Author's note: kink meme: open request: heartbeat fetish.
Interestingly enough, onomatopoeia comes from the Greek for "name" and "I make"
doki doki: heartbeat
hara hara: Heart going pit-a-pat, nervousness (see Doki-Doki)
kotsu kotsu: Rhymic, having a beat
According to geological studies, Greece is sinking into the sea. Japan is on a very major fault line – and to say nothing of that ten percent of the world's active volcanoes are found in Japan.
Greece has a strong heartbeat. Japan thinks that if he were to touch his heart, unlike Russia's frozen heart, it would be like the magma held within a dormant volcano. Searing hot, passion hidden under the sleeping rock. It is a comforting sound, it reminds him that they have not fallen yet into the sea. They are in their own ways, fragile and on the edge of ending. Each year they sink a little lower. The salty tongue of the sea licks at their ankles, dragging them in.
Like the myths of Greece's sirens.
Here their hands are entwined, holding tight against the distant threat of waves rising.
I want to live. I want to love you, he thinks, but never says.
He leans up, his mouth meeting Greece's. Greece's heartbeat is steady, even as it rises in pitch. He presses his thumb to the pulse at Greece's neck, and feels the essence of him as they breathe and touch and kiss together.
Greece has taught him bliss. When he speaks of a place called Elysium, Japan thinks it might be something like this: the intense feeling of intimacy, the swell of pleasure between two bodies fitted together.
Greece doesn't often talk when they're together like this, wrapped in each other's arms before, during or after sex. He seems to fall into a lull, a coital daze that leaves him mute.
All Japan can hear are their onomatopoeias: The doki doki of the beating heart; his own hara hara beat, each melding to a kotsu kotsu rhythm. This is the music they make in the dark, breaths, and gasps, choked down moans and the vulgar, squishy sounds of sex. Sex itself is rarely the stark aesthetics Japan prefers, yet in all its messiness, Greece has shown him a beauty he's never imagined.
When they are finished, Japan thinks of words of endearment he will never say. I love you and I want to stay here with you. After they are finished, he never says anything at all, and Greece simply drifts off to sleep. He closes his eyes and hopes his heart – the silent language of his body speaks loud enough for Greece to hear.
He lays down on Greece's chest and settles into sleep himself, trying not to count down the someday when they will disappear, trying to treasure every last moment.
The sound of Greece's heartbeat reminds him of the waves which will one day swallow them into the sea.