Title: Licorice

Summary: Norway invites Iceland and Denmark over for dinner. Extenuating circumstances lead to the two brother's taking a shower together.

Pairing(s): Norway x Iceland; NorDen is hinted

Rating: M

Warning(s): Two men (countries? x3) showering together, a bit of sadism (but not in a kinky way), and a blowjob.

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

xXxXx

Iceland sat in his brother's living room reading a book. He was a little distracted by the smell of leeks and garlic coming from the kitchen. He marked his place, set the book on the coffee table and wandered into the kitchen.

Norway stood in front of the stove, sautéing the vegetables to perfection. Iceland's mouth watered as his brother added chopped red and green bell peppers to the pan. The sizzling sound was very soothing and the smell was unbearably appetizing.

"Noregur... why are you making Ysurettir Med Ananas og Karri?" Iceland questioned.

"It's your favorite." Norway answered automatically, voice as monotone as ever. He did not start, or really react in any other way, so he must have known that Iceland was watching him. Iceland frowned slightly; his brother wouldn't usually go to this much trouble, unless... he was up to something.

"Alright, Noregur, What do you need to tell me?" Iceland questioned.

Norway was silent for a moment, seemingly preoccupied as he added the shrimp, single cream, and pineapple to the pan. He moved to gather the rest of the ingredients without answering. Iceland waited patiently as Norway added Worcestershire sauce, curry powder and paprika. Norway stirred for a bit, tasted the dish, and added more curry powder before turning to face Iceland.

"Denmark is coming for dinner..." He said calmly.

Iceland groaned inwardly, a scowl the only visible sign of his discontent. It had been a long time since he had spent quality time with Norway, and he hadn't been expecting the intrusion by his brother's self-proclaimed best friend.

"Why?' Iceland asked; a selfish whine tinged the tone of his voice, betraying his youth more than his looks or mannerisms.

"Because I invited him." Norway said, turning away from his brother to add the previously chopped haddock to the pan.

Iceland's eyes pricked with angry tears, and he turned away to compose himself, though Norway hadn't actually noticed. He hated himself for behaving like a spoiled child, but he really couldn't help himself. He forced his face into it's usual emotionless expression as Norway turned an poured the pan into a prepared baking dish, and made for the fridge to get some cheese for the topping.

There was a loud banging on the door, and Ice started. Norway, however, looked up expressionlessly from his task, "Denmark." He muttered. Almost as soon as the name was uttered, the brother's heard a terrible cracking noise; the sound of breaking glass. Ice looked at his brother, who's eyes betrayed murderous content. To anyone else, Norway would have seemed to not react at all, but Iceland knew his brother like no one else.

Both brother's walked out of the kitchen to where the front door was, just in time to see Denmark open the door from the inside... through the broken glass.

"It. Wasn't. Locked. You. Jævla. Rasshøl." Norway said, stressing each word.

His volume didn't change, but even the Dane couldn't mistake the tone.

Denmark grinned stupidly and casually put a hand behind his head, "Whoops."

For a split second, Norway looked like he might strangle the Dane, but he just turned back towards the kitchen and grumbled, "You're paying to fix the glass."

Iceland followed Norway back into the kitchen, trying his best to ignore the obviously already very drunk Dane. He watched as Norway added the cheese topping and made to put the dish in the oven, but Denmark stumbled over to him.

"Norgie~" Denmark called in a slur, "Y'got any beeerrrr~?"

Norway set the dish down to steady the drunken Dane.

"Not for you, Danmark." He stated calmly.

"Yer so meee~an to me, Norgie~!" Denmark whined, gabbing onto the front of the Norwegian's shirt. All of a sudden, the Danes face changed.

"You don't look so good, Danmark. Maybe you should sit dow-"

Before Norway could finish his sentence, the Dane projectile vomited all over him. Norway stood completely still for a moment, before shaking slightly.

"Ehhh, I'm sowwy, Norgie~!" Denmark half-shouted, taking a step back.

So fast that Iceland couldn't really see what happened, Denmark was on the kitchen floor, out cold and bleeding from his nose. And Norway was standing beside him, dripping sick onto the floor and having a very grave expression.

"I'm taking a shower." He stated, voice betraying not a hint of emotion.

"O-okay..." Iceland murmured softly, unconsciously taking a step back.

"Take one with me." Norway said then, surprising the Icelander immensely.

The Norwegian's expression had hardly changed, yet his eyes bore into his brother in a strange way.

"Wh-what?" Iceland stammered mouth slack with surprise.

"Take a shower with me," Norway clarified, eyes still locked on Iceland's intently.

"O...okay," Iceland agreed, unable to say no with Norway staring at him like that.

"God.*" Norway said in his usual monotone. He turned and walked towards the bathroom. Iceland hesitated, and then followed.

Norway wasted no time at all stripping and dropping his clothes into the laundry basket. Iceland's face heated up as he stared at his naked brother. He was so pale and beautiful and had absolutely no tan line, making Iceland think he must sunbathe naked.

He nearly had a nosebleed as his brother bent over to start the hot water; which is why he was slightly flustered when Norway straitened out and turned towards him with a slightly puzzled expression, "Aren't you going to get undressed?"

"...okay," Iceland responded in a small voice. Slightly embarrassed, he turned around and got undressed with his back to his brother. Norway watched him idly, mind wandering slightly. When Iceland turned around, Norway could see that the boy was red with embarrassment and very flustered. He walked closer and put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "What's wrong, bror?"

"N-nothing!" Iceland stammered, eyes meeting his brother's.

Norway nodded and motioned for Iceland to get in the shower first; after a moment of hesitation, he did. Norway smiled slightly, the kind of smile you wouldn't notice unless you knew him very well, and got in too. They both stood awkwardly under the water for a moment, Iceland staring embarrassedly at the shower wall, and Norway staring at his brother's blushing face.

"Wash your hair?" Norway asked finally.

Iceland, not trusting himself to speak, simply nodded. He closed his eyes and tried to relax as Norway's fingers kneaded the soap into his hair. Iceland was surprised to find that he actually enjoyed it, and was left with a pang of longing when his brother finally washed the soap out.

"...thanks," Iceland remembered to say after a few minutes of the two brothers just standing silently under the water. Norway muttered noncommittally and the two were silent for a time.

"Want... want me to do you?" Iceland asked then.

A strange look passes his brother's face, Ice almost didn't catch it, but then it was gone, "Sure." Norway muttered, handing his brother the bottle.

Iceland washed his brother's hair with trembling fingers; he was sure he was doing a terrible job of it. Norway cringed a bit when Iceland snagged a particular lock of hair at the back of his head; almost as if it pained him.

"Sorry!" Iceland apologized quickly, removing his hands.

"...It's fine, " Norway murmured after a while when Iceland hadn't resumed washing.

Tentatively, Iceland reached up and washed the soap out of his brother's hair. When he was done, Norway turned around to face him.

"Let me wash you now," Norway said, holding up a loofah.

Iceland blushed deeply, and shook his head. Norway's lips uncharacteristically turned up in a smirk that was usually reserved for Denmark.

"Why not?" Norway asked in his usual monotone, "Danmark wouldn't complain,"

Iceland scowled, still blushing furiously, "Fine." He agreed huffily.

Norway's smirk widened slightly; even someone who didn't know him well would be able to decipher his playful expression. He started at his brother's collar bone, and worked his way down. Iceland's blush deepened as the loofah brushed along the coarse hair just below his navel. Norway met his eyes then, smirk still prevalent on his face, and leaned forwards so that Iceland could feel his breath on his cheek; he smelled like mint chocolate.

"What's wrong, brother?" Norway whispered, loofah sliding down one fraction of an inch.

Iceland's lips trembled and he struggled to speak, but nothing came out. All of a sudden Norway leaned forwards, closing the one inch gap between them, and kissed Iceland on the mouth. Iceland gasped and tried to step back, but only succeeded in backing himself into the shower wall; he let out an involuntary gasp when Norway abandoned the loofah in favor of his hands.

"S-stop," Iceland stammered, hand weakly gripping the offending wrist of his brother's.

"Hmmm?" Norway hummed lustfully, "Do you really want me to stop?"
Iceland blushed hot, embarrassed by the way his brother was touching him right now; embarrassed that it felt... nice. He whimpered and gripped Norway's wrist tighter.

"If you want me to stop," Norway said evenly, "Beg."

Iceland's eyes widened in surprise. Norway was never so forward with him; never so demanding. They'd never even made love before.

"Well?" Norway persisted, smirk still in place.

No matter what, Iceland couldn't bring himself to beg. Besides, it really did feel good.

When no more protests came from his brother's mouth, Norway leaned closer and kissed him again, this time tracing his tongue along Iceland's lower lip, requesting access. Iceland hesitated, but opened his mouth. The kiss deepened for a moment, but just as soon as Iceland was beginning to enjoy himself, Norway pulled away. Confused, Iceland found himself uttering a sound of discontent; succeeding only in making his brother's smirk widen.

"Do you want me to make you feel god*?" Norway breathed into his ear.

It sent a shiver down Iceland's spine; he nodded weakly, knees threatening to buckle.

Norway chuckled lightly, very uncharacteristically of him, and suddenly Iceland felt his brother's tongue on his throat. He gasped as Norway bit him, leaving a dark mark on Iceland's pallid skin.

"N-Noregur!" Iceland gasped sharply, reaching forward to grasp the clothing that just wasn't there; his fingernails scraped against Norway's bare chest, leaving red marks on the pale flesh.

"Storebror," Norway corrected, licking the bruised skin of Iceland's neck.

Iceland's lips trembled, and his eyes pricked with tears.

"...S-Storbror," He half-sobbed, voice cracking terribly.

Norway backed off immediately. He was used to doing this with Denmark; used to making the other nation squirm and beg him for mercy. But this wasn't Denmark. It was Iceland. His little brother. His lillebror.

"...sorry," Norway choked out; he was not used to apologizing in this state. Or at all, really. His hands twitched, uncertain for a moment, then he brought one up to Iceland's lips.

"I am sorry, lillebror," Norway said seriously, kind eyes meeting Iceland's, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It... It's okay," Iceland breathed, his brother's gaze making him a bit uncomfortable.

"Do... do you want to continue?" Norway asked with great difficulty, looking uncertain.

Norway had hurt him, true, but not much. Besides, his brother did look a little put out, and they'd been having fun beforehand. Well, sort of. Iceland nodded, blushing again.

Norway graced him with a smile, a real smile, not the smirk he'd had before.

"If I do something you don't like..." He began.

"I'll say 'stop,' " Iceland told him.

"That... that won't," Norway began with a blank face, "Pick a different word." He said finally. Truth be told, "stop" was kind of a turn on for him.

"Like what?" Iceland asked, tilting his head adorably in confusion.

"Hmm," Norway mused, lips turning up a bit when he'd decided, "How about 'Licorice?'"

"L-licorice...?"

"Ja."

"O-okay."

Then the smirk returned, making Iceland feel weak-kneed and kind of fluttery.

Norway kneeled to the ground, and Iceland looked to him in confusion; his brother's playful smile was putting him on edge.

He stiffened as Norway leaned forward and kissed his inner thigh. Norway's tongue traced along the side of his length and down to the tip. Iceland had to brace himself on the shower wall when Norway took it into his mouth and sucked lightly.

"N-Noregur, ah-" Iceland gasped, leaning heavily on the tiled wall.

Norway gently tugged at Iceland's foreskin with his teeth; his own erection twitched at the moan that escaped from his brother's mouth.

Iceland blushed deeply, embarrassed by the sounds coming out of his mouth. He bit his lip and shut his eyes tightly, determined not to make another sound. They continued like this for a while, with Norway teasing and Iceland trying to hold back. But Norway was getting bored. He wanted his brother to squeal and writhe and scream his name.

Norway stopped teasing and began to really work his mouth over his brother's length. His own was already painfully hard, but he was determined not to come before his younger brother. So he picked up the pace, and accompanied his tongue-twirling by hand massaging the boy's family jewels.

Iceland inhaled sharply and bucked involuntarily into his brother's mouth.

"S-slow down, Noregur." Iceland scolded, sounding out of breath, "It isn't a race."

Norway regretfully obliged; this was just going at too slow of a pace for him. Had it been any other nation, they would have moved on already. However, he wasn't sure he was ready to "go all the way" with Iceland. Slightly annoyed, Norway went back to teasing his brother relentlessly nibbling along his length and tickling the foreskin with his tongue. But this just wasn't getting the reactions he wanted.

In a rather desperate and depraved last-ditch attempt, Norway bit painfully on the tip of Iceland's erection. It's the sort of thing that would happen whenever he shared this sort of thing with Denmark. The moan of half-pleasure, half-pain that came from Iceland's mouth was the undoing of Norway. He came instantly, his warm froth swirling in the shower water around his brother's feet. Norway didn't really notice, as he was dizzy and lightheaded from the sudden rush of endorphins.

Only after he'd allowed a strangled moan of pleasure at his climax to leave his lips, did Iceland follow suit. Because of the position they were in, Iceland's seed sprayed across his brother's face. Norway didn't seem to mind.

Body spent, Iceland dropped to his knees beside his brother. Something bobbed in the swirling water near his thigh; Iceland picked up the abandoned loofah and smiled warmly at Norway who was staring at him with a rather blank expression.

"Storebror," Iceland began, earning a twinkle of surprise from his brother's eye, "You've gotten something on your face."

xXxXx

A/N: So, I know it wasn't very well written. This was based on a few Roleplay's done with FluffyRobi, and it was so long ago that I really couldn't remember well what happened. I may or may not add more to the story. I haven't yet decided. Anyways, hope you enjoyed~

Translations:

Ysurettir Med Ananas og Karri: Curried haddock with pineapple (Icelandic).

h t t p :/ www. food. com/ recipe/ curried-haddock-with-pineapple-iceland-254478

Jævla Rasshøl: No direct translation. It basically means "Fucking Asshole" and is a pretty harsh insult, I believe (Norwegian).

Danmark: Denmark (Norwegian).

Noregur: Norway (Icelandic).

Storebror/lillebror: Older/younger brother (Norwegian).