Norway x Reader: So That's What That Means

Lukas Bondevik

-x-

As soon as he heard his name on your lips, Lukas had to repress the shiver of delight which threatened to tear through his entire body.  It was embarrassing for him to admit how easily you could affect him with only your voice, but as of late the way you spoke his name had changed; instead of simply pronouncing the word like every other person he knew, you seemed to savour the syllables, allowing them to roll from your tongue with an almost sinful tenderness… Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part. When you shifted in your seat, drumming your fingers along the rim of your coffee cup absentmindedly, he realised that he had yet to acknowledge the fact that you’d spoken.
“Yes __________?” He decided to humour you, despite being fully aware of what you were going to ask.
Momentarily tearing his gaze away from the window of the little café, Lukas faced you across the table and allowed himself to appreciate the way you were biting your lower lip in an attempt to hide your breathtaking smile. A small part of the blond had half a mind to bite that lip in your place.
You had turned your pretty eyes downwards, suddenly intent upon studying your fingernails just as you always did before voicing those few words he so enjoyed hearing.
“Speak Norwegian for me.”
To anyone else it would sound like an odd request, and Lukas would freely admit that he too had thought so at first, but over time he had become surprisingly fond of hearing you utter that simple phrase. Outwardly he sighed with reluctance, as if to consider denying you of this simple pleasure, however he was secretly pleased.
You couldn’t speak a word of his mother-tongue. He’d attempted to teach you simple words and phrases on multiple occasions, all of which had ended in failure, quickly discovering that you just weren’t linguistically inclined. As such, you’d taken to requesting that he voice the language in your stead.
“Alright.”

Lukas recalled the first time you’d asked this of him with crystal clarity; it had been shortly after Mathias had introduced the two of you at one of his ridiculous parties. You’d smiled happily at the time, but had looked rather uncomfortable being surrounded by crowds of sweaty drunkards, not that the stupid Dane had noticed.
“This way.”
Those were the first words he had spoken to you - a blunt command - but you hadn’t complained, obediently following him as he wound through the dancing bodies. He had soon emerged outside with you at his heel like a confused puppy.
How cute.
That had been the only thought running through his mind as he wandered off down the street with no real destination in mind, intending only to escape the loud bass which resounded through the otherwise peaceful night.
“Um, Lukas?”
His name had been a question on your tongue, and one glance had been all the Norwegian needed to tell that you weren’t entirely sure that you had heard Mathias’ introduction correctly over the music.
“Yes?”
You’d smiled in relief then, clearly pleased that you hadn’t been mistaken.
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere.” He had shrugged nonchalantly before catching your nervous expression and elaborating. “You didn’t like it in there right? Well me neither.”
“But Mathias-”
“Won’t even notice we’re gone.”
Though clearly a little reluctant to follow a man you’d only just met, you had seemed even more reluctant to return to the party, and so the blond had found himself not only a pretty companion for the evening, but a friend for all the days to follow.
You’d made small talk for a while and Lukas had contributed as well as he was able, finding that you were surprisingly easy to talk to despite being a total stranger. Eventually the topic had turned to his home country, and that odd request had passed your lips for the first time.
“Will you speak Norwegian for me?”
Your face had been alight with excitement, and even the normally expressionless mask Lukas wore had done nothing to hide his surprise at your enthusiasm.
“I er… I mean, sorry. That was a little strange of me wasn’t it? I just-” He had let you ramble in a clearly flustered state for a moment, appreciating how your cheeks glowed with embarrassment.
“What should I say?”
Your doe-like eyes had been raised to meet his with a hopeful expression, and a less-composed man might have laughed fondly.
“Anything really, I don’t mind. I’ve always really liked foreign languages but I’m kind of hopeless when it comes to learning them. I used to ask Mathias to speak for me, but I got the feeling he was saying something strange so I stopped.”
Considering your attractive figure and innocent expression, Lukas hadn’t had any trouble imagining exactly what kind of things “something strange” was likely to involve, especially when it came to that idiot.
“Du er en så merkelig jente. Ikke den typen som vanligvis forbinder med den dumme dansken.”
You’re such an odd girl. Not the type who would usually associate with that stupid Dane.
Despite no knowledge of the meaning behind his words, you had walked along beside him with a contented expression on your features, and so the blond had continued to let the words roll from his tongue as he observed your happy expression out the corner of his eye.
“En merkelig jente faktisk.”
An odd girl indeed.

Lukas had known he was drawn to you right from the beginning, but he had never expected those feelings to be quite so persistent. That original fleeting attraction had grown over the past year and could no longer be considered as the occasional spark of allure it once was, but rather a twenty-four-hour infatuation. Whenever you were nearby he caught himself staring at your lips, or musing upon how well your slightly smaller stature would fit into his arms. Not that it stopped there, as of late these trains of thought were becoming more dangerous, forcing him to consider what sounds you would make if he kissed you - your cheek, your jaw, your throat - and he had even begun experiencing some questionable dreams within which you were the object of his attentions.
“Lukas?”
Your inquisitive tone pulled him from his thoughts. Realising where his mind had taken him yet again, the Norwegian bit back a groan of frustration. This was really getting out of hand.
“It doesn’t matter what I say, right?”
“Nope!” He sipped at his coffee as you settled yourself back into your chair, gracing him with a warm smile which contained an innocence he most certainly didn’t deserve. Silently scolding himself, Lukas began.
“I så fall skal jeg fortelle deg om mine drømmer. Ikke at jeg har aldri fortalt deg om dem før.”
In that case I'll tell you about my dreams. Not that I've never told you about them before.
“De er blitt mer eksplisitt om.”
They're becoming more explicit though.
You were humming happily, eyes closed as you focused on his voice, and he felt a little guilty about the secrets he was going to whisper to your innocent ears, even if you wouldn’t understand them.
“I natt drømte jeg at du og jeg møtte opp, akkurat som denne, men det var litt annerledes. Vi fikk ikke sitte stille og nippe kaffe som vi vanligvis gjør.”
Last night I dreamt that you and I met up, just like this, but it was a little different. We didn't sit quietly and sip coffee like we usually do.
Lukas couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him at the memory, but a quick glance at you ensured him that you hadn’t heard.
“Faktisk, du var ikke stille i det hele tatt.”
In fact, you weren't quiet at all.
Your eyes remained closed and your soft smile didn’t falter, giving him the courage to continue.
“Tenker på det, var du ganske vokal, stønn navnet mitt og ber meg om å gjøre så mange skitne ting til deg.”
Thinking about it, you were quite vocal, moaning my name and begging me to do so many dirty things to you.

The foreign tongue was like music to your ears. However, the expressions your friend wore when speaking his mother tongue were far more intriguing, especially considering how apathetic his usual façade was. True, the changes were still subtle, and you could only view them through your lashes as you were sure that he wouldn’t appreciate being observed like a wild animal, but still you saw them. You hummed with pleasure as his words rolled over you, sending tremors through your body. Quickly catching yourself, you turned the sound into a tune, hoping he hadn’t noticed; risking a quick peek at the young man who sat opposite, you were reassured. You closed your eyes again, relaxing into your chair and letting his voice sooth you.
Until he chuckled, that was.
Your eyes snapped open at the sound, and you stared wide eyed at your companion. Not only had his voice seemed to lower slightly, sending bolts of electricity to the pit of your stomach, but Lukas was actually smirking. Now that was sexy.
Noticing that he had stopped speaking, you quickly shut your eyes again and plastered a smile onto your features, desperately praying that he hadn’t caught you. After a moment, he resumed his monologue and you gave an internal sigh of relief.
The two of you continued like that for some time: he speaking about God-knows-what with those sinful lips, and you drinking in every word. It was after maybe twenty minutes of this that a familiar phrase caught your attention.
“Jeg tror jeg elsker deg.”
You’d heard that same phrase before, you were sure of it. It had come up quite frequently actually, or some variation thereof, though you had no idea what it actually meant. You’d once tried to Google it, but found that your memory of the language which was alien to you was not the most reliable, especially when you had to work out how to spell the words you could barely remember. Needless to say, your endeavour had been unsuccessful.
“Hey Lukas?”
You hated to interrupt, but those words that you couldn’t quite remember were beginning to get on your nerves. His pale eyes turned to you, inviting you to continue.
“What does that mean?”
He tilted his head fractionally, posing a silent question.
“Jug elski dog? No wait, that’s not quite right… hang on-” You turned the words over in your mind, frowning into your now empty coffee mug and muttering different versions of those words under your breath, attempting to find the right combination of letters. You were so wrapped up in this linguistic puzzle that you didn’t noticed the how all the colour had drained from your friend’s complexion.

At the sound of his name Lukas paused, turning to face your curious gaze.
“What does that mean?”
He tilted his head to the side in confusion.
“Jug elski dog? No wait, that’s not quite right… hang on-”
His blood ran cold. There was absolutely no way you were asking what he thought you were asking. You couldn’t be. You didn’t understand a word of his language, it must be a coincidence. But if it were, why did you have to ask about that in particular? Any other phrase would have been-
Rethinking that, perhaps any other phrase would have been just as bad, if not worse.
Lukas attempted to collect his thoughts, hoping he didn’t look as uneasy as he felt. Exhaling slowly, he tried (and failed) to still his trembling hands before coughing lightly to get your attention.
“Jeg tror jeg elsker deg.” As soon as the words left his lips your eyes lit up.
“That’s it! What does that mean?”
“Du ønsker ikke å vite, det vil ødelegge alt.”
You don't want to know, it'll ruin everything.
“Lukas~” The way you whined his name did nothing to help his self-control. “Seriously, I’ve heard you say it a bunch of times already, just tell me what it means!”
“You want to know what it means?”
“Obviously!” You had leant right forward across the table, studying him intently with your beautifully trusting eyes.
“Alright.”
Leaning forward, he all but closed the distance between the two of you until barely an inch remained between his lips and yours. Steely blue eyes gauged your reaction carefully, terrified that you’d pull away but equally frightened of the opposite. If you rejected him, then continuing your friendship would be hard with his feelings out in the open like this. Of course, if you didn’t then he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
Would he kiss you?
From your current situation that would seem the plausible course of action, but as Lukas waited for you to shove him away he became more and more aware of the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He’d never been in a relationship before; he struggled enough with retaining friendships let alone something so exclusive. Thinking about it logically, he’d probably mess the entire thing up. It was a miracle that you’d stuck with him for so long as it was, but there was no way that he’d be able to treat you the way you deserved. This was decidedly a terrible idea and-
He felt your lips press firmly against his.
After a few seconds, his body responded of its own accord, leaning into you and returning the kiss as his eyes slid shut. One of his hands seemed to have found its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as he kissed you. When the two of you reluctantly parted, Lukas was at loss for words.
“So…” You gave a lightheaded giggle. “That’s what that means.”