Warm

The meeting room was chilled, but comfortable. All the male nordics had arrived to discuss how running their countries had been, and compared to their previous meeting, nothing changed. Bernard had been rambling to Berwald about boys, Thurston had made Tino cry angrily by explaining that Santa Claus doesn't exist, Egil had been annoying Emil by poking him repeatedly, and Eduard and Egor had sat and talked about ideas for different blogs. No one had discussed anything about their countries. Lukas usually stayed in the bathroom through all the meetings to avoid everyone's rambling, and Mathias always arrived about an hour late.

Markell and Loki sat by each other in silence. Markell sat with a cold gaze glued to his watch. Waiting for the meeting to end. Loki rested his hands on his intertwined fingers. His blaze tattoo poking out of his white shirt like a snake in a hole.

An hour and a half later, Mathias walked in, wearing his usual black cloak. For once, Markell's gaze was lifted.

"Sorry I'm late," began Mathias, "hair gel took me forever to perfect!"

"You're always late," growled Markell, eyes narrowing on Mathias.

Mathias stood in silence in the open doorway until Markell went back to focusing on his watch.

Finally. An hour of no progress, the meeting ended. Markell always stayed in his seat until he was sure everyone was gone. Loki sat on the edge of the table in front of him, silently. Sleeves now rolled up and revealed only a fourth of the fiery marking on his left forearm.

Markell sat in the silence, for a few more minutes, before muttering to the man in front of him, "let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Markell unlocked the door to their apartment. The door swung open to a pitch black room. Loki took off his and Markell's coats and hung them up. Markell turned on the light and walked upstairs to their bedroom, Loki followed. He kicked off his shoes and plopped on the bed. Loki went around the other side and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Again," Markell murmured to himself, "nothing of importance was discussed."

Loki threw his shirt into the dirty clothes basket in the corner of the room. He climbed into the bed and crawled over to Markell.

"I don't see the point in going anymore," Loki purred into his ear. He wrapped his arms around his lover's neck, beginning to undo his tie. "They all don't seem to care, if they did, they would've stayed on task a long time ago."

"You're right. But we're two of the Nordic countries, so we are required to go." Markell responded. Once Loki had gotten off his tie, he hopped off the bed, sat on the Danes lap, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"This is ridiculous." Markell rested his head on Loki's ablaze shoulder, letting out a sigh. 

"There there," the smaller Norwegian undid another button, and kissed his neck, "the meetings over. We don't go back for two months."

Markell rested his eyes as his partner undressed his upper body. His mind wandered to something he could never forget. A snowy day, young Markell and Loki sat under a tree. The Dane looked up at the sky, while the Norwegian lit and threw matches into the snow.

Loki had always been right next to Markell, through rough wars, and peace treaties. Anything Markell wanted, the smaller nation would give to him.

"You've been so good to me," the Dane growled in Loki's ear, "no one has ever come close to the amount of loyalty you've shown me."

He wrapped his arms around Loki's torso, Markell lifted his head, and met Loki's gaze. His black velvet choker highlighted his burgundy eyes. His upside down cross rested on the side of his head.