[Fanfic] Real Gone [2/2]
(...Follow this link for the first part)
About an hour - or maybe two - later, Arthur was lying underneath the covers of the bed that was stowed away in Alfred's guest bedroom. A heavy weight clung to his chest, making it throb. He could not settle this bad feeling, consuming and eating him with guilt. Earlier was not wholly his fault, but he cared about Alfred. A lot. It was only because Alfred said that they should be with other people that he dared to even think about letting someone embrace him. If only the American believed that.
Because Francis was willing to give him a little bit of consolation. Did he love Francis, or even want to be with him? Not on your nelly. He sighed, and rolled over, tugging the sheets with him. His back still hurt so much, but that was the least of his problem. How come Alfred could play about, but he was not allowed? He didn't even want to. It was just unfair, and he reacted badly to that. He wanted Alfred to himself, because he was selfish and he knew it. He did not want to look away from Alfred at all. He just felt like... he had to. Dammit.
He... you know. Him.
Loved.
Arthur laid there for what seemed like hours. It had been, actually. Soon, the small clock on the dresser read past one in the morning. There wasn't a sound in the house, and Arthur did not even know if Alfred had come back inside. The only sound Arthur could hear was the soft ticking noise of the bed side clock. That is, until he heard the door knob turn and the door to his room creak open.
There stood Alfred in the doorway, shadows covering most of his body and face. Arthur could tell he had shed his jacket and tie, leaving him in only his button up. "Arthur...?" He called softly, moving into the room quietly though stumbling slightly. "Arthur... are you awake?" Alfred moved to sit on the bed and watched the still figure under the covers for a minute.
It would be lying to say that Arthur had not fallen asleep, because he had. Only for a short duration, though. He was relatively restless. He always was when he worried. He got sick often that way. Though while he was awake now, and had been for over thirty minutes, Arthur was determined not to let on. He tried to keep his breathing steady, even as Alfred sat down next to him. He could feel the mattress shift with the added weight. Then, of course, he remembered that sleeping people were not silent and unmoving. He tugged the covers again, and made a light 'nn' noise, to cover his tracks.
The American was quiet for a long time before he shifted, moving to lay on the bed on his side, facing Arthur's back. Alfred took a deep breath before he spoke again, reaching up to let Arthur's soft sandy blonde hair run through his fingers. "I know... I know you're mad at me. You have every right to be, I went too far. I...I shouldn't have pushed you." There was another silence before Alfred shifted a little closer, breath now ghosting over the back of Arthur's neck.
Alfred reeked of booze.
"I just hate knowing I can't tell the world you're mine..."
Arthur opened his eyes for a moment, considered talking to him, but then they were pressed shut again. Wasn't it silly that Alfred would rather talk to him honestly when he slept, rather than to his face? In the interests of discovery, Arthur remained quiet, just listening. Alfred was being so sweet, and it hurt thinking of what had happened and why. Knowing Alfred had smoked a lot and drunk a lot because of him-well. That was the worst thing.
There was a soft sniff before Alfred moved to let his hand rest on Arthur's hip over the sheets. "Why do you always have to be so far away? You... No matter what I do I'm never good enough to be with you. I'm the strongest nation in the world... and you still don't want to be with me," the American nation shuddered softly as he let out a small sad whine, then an odd chuckle. "You know... the other day when I was in bed with this one girl... I accidently said you name. Ha... she left me right there, yelling about how I was a homosexual and that I was disgusting. But, I couldn't help it."
Arthur tried not to smile. It was warming, but at the same time, it was so sad to hear him speaking like this. Like he was utterly hopeless, and that he thought Arthur did not appreciate him. How wrong he was. He would probably never know the sheerextent to which Arthur knew he was wrong. Still, he held on. What else would Alfred do or confess?
"Sometimes...I envy my people. How they have jobs that at most only make them leave the ones they love for a week, but they always come back. Come back to the ones that they care about most." His fingers started to trace patterns on Arthur's covered hip, pressing closer as he spoke so that Arthur's back was flush against his chest. "If I could... I would have you as my wife... or Husband... or whatever. I don't care. That way I could always come home to your sewing, swearing, drinking and your God awful cooking... but most of all to you."
"...You bastard," Arthur said sharply through the silence that Alfred had created. He did not listen to any exclamations of surprise that came from the American, and just swiveled around so that he was facing the man. His eyebrows were tugged, lines on his forehead indicating worry, and eyes heavy with upset and blame. "Do you get off on saying things like that to me?" He asked. "Alfred-You wanted to sleep around with other people. I never wanted to do that. Never. If anyone is to blame for you and I not... not having that, it's you. I was and am..." He swallowed, and trailed off.
Yours. Always had been.
Alfred kept his head down, not looking into Arthur's eyes as his alcohol flooded mind tried to think. "I'm sorry," He said softly, pulling his hand away from Arthur so that he could tug on them nervously. "I just...When you told me not to tell anyone after... after that night. I was hurt. I had thought I would be able to tell everyone that Arthur Kirkland was mine... But I couldn't. So, I guess I wanted to hurt you back." His cheeks colored in shame at how childish that sounded when he said it out loud, it had made perfect sense at the time and in his head.
"I slept with Francis-!" Arthur said sharply in response. "It wouldn't have happened if-...!" He shook his head as he looked at Alfred, and his face was filled with unspoken hurt. All he wanted to do was to keep the reputation of their relationship safe. Alfred went too far. He made them branch off to other people when Arthur was there for him, wholly, already. Who was the one that should feel this incomprehensible guilt? Arthur glared in another direction, trying not to communicate just how pained he really was. "Well done on the 'hurting me back' front. You fucking well proved your point."
Blue eyes widened and he sat up quickly, moving so that he had Arthur trapped between his arms as he loomed over the Briton. "I'm sorry, Arthur! Please, you gotta know I didn't want for all this shit to happen. I just didn't want to be seen as the weaker one by clinging to you and whining that I wanted to go steady or something." Alfred bowed his head and bit his lip as he tried to think of some way to make this all better again, but he couldn't. Damage had been done, and he didn't have some magic eraser that could fix all his life's mistakes.
"Arthur... I know what I did was wrong and I'm sorry." He glanced up to meet green in the dark room and swallowed thickly. "I..." He was supposed to be brave. Be the hero. He was the United States of America. So, he tightly closed his eyes and waited for the worst after he spit out those three words. "I love you-!"
Instead of a recoil in alarm or astonishment, as Alfred might have expected, there were a fresh pair of lips pressing against his. Arthur had kissed him - which was a surprise, because Arthur was the sort that waited for the other party to dive in and show him that they wanted a piece. The kiss was chaste, not searching for anything more, just expressing true affection. Finally, when Arthur was done, they pulled apart slowly - millimetre by millimetre. "...I love you too." He confessed, before he lowered the hand that had gone on Alfred's cheek, and squeezed it into a fist. "I mean, I care about you, you idiot. So..."
Lips were pressed against Arthur's quickly, pressing hurriedly down stopping anything else the Briton could say. "Shhh," Alfred clumsily said against his lips, one hand moving to cup the underside of Arthur's head while the other went to rest over the English nation's chest, right over his heart. "Stop... Don't pull back after that. Honesty. I want that from you." He then took Arthur's hand in his and pressed it against his own chest, his heart beating wildly even through his shirt. "You make it do that. Like no one else."
Thump, thump, thump, thump - a quicker succession than a regular heartbeat. Arthur knew what that meant. His own heart ached at the thought as he realised that he was making Alfred throb for him. He laughed under his breath humourlessly, because he knew how silly that thought was. He looked up at Alfred, and reached above him to brush some hairs out of Alfred's perfect eyes.
"So..." he said. "What does this mean for us, Alfred? Are we..." He tried not to look ecstatic. It was indecent. "Is it-just us?"
Alfred smiled and leaned down to nuzzle Arthur's neck, kissing it a few times as he hummed quietly. "Do I get to hold your hand at meetings and call you mine?" He whispered against the pale smooth skin of Arthur's cheek.
Arthur frowned. He was not terribly sure about advertising their relationship. It was risky. What if the rest of the world reacted badly to their union? He thought about it for a moment, and looked up at Alfred. This time, unlike the first time, he caved in. "Yes. You may," he said, before he held a finger up. "But first! You, sir, are going to get in contact with Betty and-In fact-All of your upcoming 'dates', and you are going to cancel, right now!"
"N-Now?" Alfred croaked and frowned down at the small Briton under him, shaking his head quickly. "Arthur, it's almost one in the morning. It's not like they have secretaries that can take down messages for them." He pouted as he leaned down to kiss Arthur's lips softly, a hand moving under the covers to rub at the Briton's side. "Can I at least wait until morning..?"
Begrudgingly, the Briton's shoulders sagged and he sighed. Yes, he honestly did want to have that over, but Alfred was right. The time was not of the essence. Still, might as well get something out of this. "Fine. But I have two demands. One, you have to call all those ladies, or sirs for that matter, and tell them that it's not happening anymore. And, two..." He trailed off, and found his hands rubbing up Alfred's warm but expansive chest. "...You may take me to your bedroom right now, and we can assure that we get a very cozy night."
The American didn't need much more persuading as he leaned down to capture Arthur's lips with his, doing his best to pull the covers away from the Englishman's body. He smiled as he tugged at Arthur's flannel top and nipped at his bottom lip before pulling away completely. "How is it you're still pretty foxy in those stupid plaid flannels?" He pecked Arthur's lips again before he hopped off the bed and leaned down to swoop Arthur up like he was carrying his new bride.
"That is the best compliment I have ever received from someone that has seen me in my matching pyjamas," Arthur commented. Ah, satire. He reaffirmed their lips, and again, and again. Sweet, noble kisses to pass the time as Alfred carried him to the main bedroom. It was funny, really. This was the first time Arthur had ever not complained when Alfred treated him like this - like he was protecting and taking care of him. Arthur hated it. Just-Well. Perhaps a one off, eh? A one-off to start many. "Are you sure I am going to be enough for you, Jones? Will your romantic urges be sated?"
Alfred laughed loudly as he actually kicked his bedroom door open, carrying Arthur in and tossing him down onto the springy mattress. "Trust me, you may act all poised and proper in front of other people. But you get downright dirty when it comes to the horizontal tango." Alfred waggled his brow at his reference to Antonio's dancing. The Spaniard had been far to eagar to show off when they had last met. He quickly crawled on top of Arthur and kissed him deeply, hand moving to the small buttons of Arthur's soft top.
Arthur bounced on the bed when he was tossed down, and his heart did a flip in his chest as his partner - his partner, mind - made his way on top and trapped him under his body. Arthur reached up and tugged at his buttons to help Alfred tug the article of clothing off of him quicker. Alfred was right - once you got him in bed, which was a skill for someone to do these days, he was stunning. Foxismonitous. Arthur pressed up against the kiss, letting their lips smoothly glide over one another's.
Alfred continued to dominate the kiss and when the last button was proving to be a problem he decided to just forget being careful and ripped at Arthur's shirt, causing the button to pop off and land somewhere in the room. "Finally." He gasped against the Briton's lips and moved to splay his cool hand over Arthur's warm chest. Looking down, he couldn't help but smile at how much darker his skin was compared to the others almost paper white color.
"You should get more sun, Sweets. You got the cream down, but you're missing the peaches." He joked moving down to kiss Arthur's exposed collar bone, hands moving to play with the waist band of the other nation's bottoms.
"Oh, do shut up, Alfred," Arthur said as he gazed upwards at his lover and watched those thin lips tug into a very defined smile. He ran his fingers up the tanned and broad arms of his partner, although they were concealed by his crisp white shirt, tightening them around the taut muscles for his amusement. "You know you like me like this. Pale. It's character." He pointed out. Once upon a time, people loved a pale complexion. It was the sign of nobility - no need to work one's back off in the sun. He shifted further up the bed, till his head was pressed against the pillows.
He let Arthur move as he stood up from the bed and started to tug at his tie until he was able to pull it over his head. He threw the thin black piece of silk to the floor and started to unbutton his work shirt, his dog tags jingling against his undershirt now that they had room to move. He let his shirt slip off his shoulders and plucked at the tight undershirt before moving to start undoing his pants.
After he had removed his slacks he gave Arthur a small show by reaching his arms up and stretching, lifting up onto the balls of his feet to show off his strong calf muscles. He knew he was good looking. Even in an undershirt and briefs.
Alfred's good looking body, instead of being met with praise, was immediately met with a firm pillow. Arthur had thrown it, smacking the American right in his abdomen. From the successful look on Arthur's face, he had hit his mark. "Pity," he commented. "I was hoping I would bruise your massive ego." Arthur curled his finger in a 'come hither' movement, and waited for Alfred to come join him. He lifted one of his feet. "You can start with the socks."
Alfred rolled his eyes and moved down to pick up the pillow, tossing it back onto the bed and narrowly missing Arthur's head. "Pfff. As if anyone could." He remarked and climbed up on the bed, stopping when he came to Arthur's lifted leg. He snickered slightly as he took the small foot that was offered to him in his hand and kissed one of the sock covered toes. "Now I know I'm sleeping with an old man. Only old people wear their socks to bed." He grinned as he moved up to start peeling the sock off of the Briton's foot.
"Only young people complain about their toes being cold when they're in bed without finding a clever but simple solution," Arthur remarked back as he held his foot up for Alfred, keeping his toes nicely pointed with precision. At the very least, Arthur could control his body. "Maybe I should keep them on?" He said in a tone that was mockingly seductive, and he pinched the fabric of his pyjama trousers so he could shimmy them down a little. They were a bit baggy on him, and with not much surprise. Arthur was a bundle of bones right now and not too much else.
Alfred stopped when Arthur suggested leaving the socks on, and with a growing smile he started to roll the sock back onto Arthur's leg. "You always have the best ideas," he pushed the Briton's leg back down onto the bed and moved in to give him a firm kiss. "Now, stop being a stupid tease and let's get these off you." He growled out and gripped the hem of Arthur's bottoms and pulled, sliding them easily off those slim hips and down Arthur's long legs.
Alfred blushed when he saw that Arthur was not wearing any kind of undergarment and he shook his head slightly as a smile came onto his face. He could make a comment on how Arthur was super perverted or if he had been expecting this to happen tonight. But he didn't. He just stroked Arthur's stomach gently and lifted a bare leg so he could kiss it. "You are..."
Skinny.
Malnourished.
All Bones.
"You're beautiful, Arthur."
After watching Alfred trail off and stare, Arthur's shoulders sagged a little. Oh, yes, he knew that look. He had seen others give it to those that had not got such baggy clothes to disguise it, or substantial clothes for that matter. Arthur pushed himself up, flexibility showing as he pressed closer to Alfred even with his leg suspended by the American in the air. He took Alfred's chin in his hand, and made certain that the other male was staring at him in the eyes. "You know there are worse people out there than me," Arthur told him, before letting go of his lover's chin. He regarded him worriedly. "Are you alright?"
"I..." Alfred ducked his head, remembering how Arthur had almost crumbled when he had pushed him earlier today - and how the other times they had slept together, Arthur always seemed ready to pass out after only two rounds.
"I don't want to break you." He whispered softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on Arthur's knee.
Arthur pulled his leg down from Alfred's hands, and moved so that he was kneeling in front of Alfred. Although his back still hurt, he was determined to not let a single indication of the pain show up on his face. Without a word, he gripped Alfred's broad shoulders - really gripping them, fingers tight on those muscles.
"Alfred F. Jones," Arthur stared at him, all determination appearing in those eyes. The only offense Arthur had gotten was that Alfred did not trust him to know his own limits. "I have lived through just over a thousand years of life, now. I can handle myself. Let me tell you this..." He trailed off, and leant in, pressing his lips to the shell of Alfred's ear for a millisecond before he spoke. "I-Will-Not-Break."
Alfred looked up, watching Arthur for a minute before nodding and giving that small turned up nose a soft kiss. He then pushed the Briton back down on the bed gently without a word and pressed a soft kiss to Arthur's neck as he intertwined their fingers. He kissed Arthur's chest until he had run out of places to kiss, then while keeping their hands locked he reached over to the bed side drawer and pulled out bottle of lotion. He kissed Arthur again, pulling the other's tongue into his mouth and sucking on it softly while he pumped some of the cold lotion into his hand.
"I love you, Arthur Kirkland. I always have."
One finger slipped inside.
Arthur's breath hitched, but it was not because of the finger that had been slipped gently inside of him. The Briton was more relaxed than ever, giving an appreciative stare that was so rare from him. He barely ever showed when he was truly-what was this? Happy? He shifted his hips and lifted his legs a little and apart so Alfred's finger could penetrate the inner rings of muscle easier. "I don't-ngh-I don't think I could ever get bored, or used to, you saying that." He said, before he nodded ever so slightly. Time to stop suppressing his feeling and stop beating around the bush. "I've loved you from the second that I set eyes on you. Not in this way, obviously. But you were-ah-Always special."
He could feel his cheeks heat up at Arthur's words and he smiled letting his hand grip Arthur's tighter. He leaned down to suckle at Arthur's neck as he pressed another finger into the man's entrance, licking his lips when his blood rushed south at the feeling of Arthur clenching around him. "Love you..." He whispered again as his hips gave a small shift. His fingers started to move in a scissoring motion as he pressed his lips against Arthur's, loving the feeling of the Briton so close to him.
"Ah-hah... nnh..." Arthur's breathing, which was slow and careful right now, stammered a few times as Alfred scissored his fingers in order to stretch him. His body was not exactly pliable even when he had had recent sex let alone now - after all, he was smaller in body than Alfred. Even his fingers felt big, especially since Alfred's digits were not just solely bone. Arthur pushed his hips up as his body constricted around the foreign intruders. His member twitched with anticipation, and Arthur could not take his eyes off of Alfred's hand disappearing between his legs to plunge those digits in and out. "Alfred."
He continued the movement for a few more minutes and then bit his lip. "God... I love when you say my name in that kind of tone." He pulled his fingers out and moved to put more lotion on them, and carefully slid three inside the tight entrance. Huffing slightly, he tried to resist the urge not to just rut against the mattress while fingering the Briton.
Just then his middle finger grazed against something in Arthur.
Arthur gave an sharp exhale, breathing out quickly since he was startled. His head felt dizzy and somewhere behind his eyes there were sparks - like those that accompanied head-rush. Blood pooled further down on his body more attentively, and the pleasured Briton gave Alfred another stare - this one hopelessly unseeing. A sign that Alfred was doing well.
"Alfred..." No more 'Jones'. He lifted his hands above his head, and tugged gently at the bed-sheets and the pillow covers. It was ever harder to hold his legs up, but he could manage it. "Yes-Gosh, that's it..."
Alfred quirked a brow when he heard Arthur and he let his finger push up against whatever that was again. He knew prostates gave pleasure, but Arthur reacted so strongly every single time. Either he was sensitive, or he had one hell of a touch. "That good, Baby?" He whispered as he pressed feather light kisses to Arthur's cheeks and heavy brow, testing the Briton's reactions with different speeds and pressure.
Even when Arthur reached down as far as he could, he could only just touch Alfred's wrist. Still, he hoped that would be encouragement enough. He needed Alfred to keep going, and if not this, he needed something else. To be connected - that was the aim. Their minds, hearts, bodies, everything. A term his ex-prime minister had twigged popped into his head and made him smile, if silently. Special, was it? He cupped Alfred's cheek. "Now."
The American nation was quick to obey as he pulled his fingers out and shimmed out of his briefs, his hard cock bouncing a bit as he moved to pump some more lotion into his hands. As he slicked himself up he let out a soft moan, tipping his head back and getting lost in the simple touch of his own hand. Before he went too far, he pulled away with a soft hiss and moved to loom over the Briton again, lining himself up with Arthur's entrance.
He gave Arthur one last peck on the lips before he slid completely inside.
Their lips were still sealed as Alfred went in, but it was sloppy work. They missed a little as they both shuddered at the feeling, but because of different reasons. For Alfred, it was with pleasure. For Arthur, it was accompanied with the initial pain, and the almost suffocating feeling of being stretched and filled with something far larger than should be guided into a person's body. Arthur's thin thighs shook slightly, before he gathered the strength to wrap them around Alfred's hips. He slowly opened his eyes when he realised that they had rammed close as soon as the penetration started. As the kiss ended, effort shone all across Arthur's face - but with a strange radiance that suited him. Green eyes looked strained, but not regretful. "Al..."
Alfred watched Arthur's face and quickly his eyes filled with worry as he moved only the slightest bit in order to prop himself up on both arms. "Baby?" He asked quietly and stroked a pale cheek with his non-lotioned hand. "Baby..." He sighed softly and kissed those trembling white lips, hand moving to rub Arthur's sides. "It'll get better. I promise."
He was lying. He had no idea what it felt like.
"I'm going to move... alright?"
Arthur was silent through the first thrust, holding his breath. Though Alfred did not know what this felt, Arthur did. He knew that it got so much better. It was just that Alfred was-well, truth be told, he was the largest he had ever had, and he was also brutal at times. Thrusts that were strong and uncalculated, because Alfred commonly just went with what felt right. A timing of his own. Something that Arthur would never, ever fault him for. Finally, as his chest stopped jittering up and down from trying to recover from the initial insertion, Arthur found himself making a noise. A moan, to begin with, then words. "-ve you... t-that's... that's it... Mmn."
Alfred huffed a small chuckle when he heard the bed creak loudly with his thrusts and was glad he didn't live in an apartment or he would have some very unhappy neighbors. Something in his chest started to warm up as he rocked forward into Arthur and he let out long groan when the heat started to spill into his stomach. "Oh, Sweetie." He purred, hand moving to weave into Arthur's shaggy hair. "You are amazing."
The Briton's breath strained again and again as Alfred thrust up into him, pistoning his member in and out of his warm entrance. Each thrust accelerated with Alfred's enthusiasm. It was lucky that Alfred was not sending him straight into the headboard. Alfred had... changed, recently. The first time they had sex, it was when he was stronger and Alfred wasn't quite as powerful. His hegemony in this world was growing, and no one had the true power, right now, to stop it. Only the communist bloc in the East even threatened him. It was then that it hit Arthur that he was making love with the, perhaps, most powerful man alive.
And oh, did it turn him on.
Alfred let out a breathy moan as his hand slowly curled into a fist in Arthur's hair, pulling the Briton's head back slightly making him bare that long white neck. This had started happening ever since he had gained so much power, this need to show everyone what was his grew until it almost made him scream. Right now he could hear his blood rushing in his ears as he listened to Arthur make those sinful little sounds, and the need to lock Arthur in a room and never let him leave started to become heavy.
His hips picked up the pace as he gazed down at Arthur's throat in lust, his oiled hair now falling completely and into his eyes. "Nnnggh..."
The Englishman followed Alfred's eye-line and saw that he was watching his throat. His jugular must have been showing a little from the effort, and his Adam's apple bob as he tried to breathe through his mouth. He did not question the allure. Instead, sincere jade eyes were finding Alfred's as they bodies moved in time with Alfred's own rhythm. He did his best to follow along. "I know what y-you, ah, want. So do it," he said airily. "Mark me. Proclaim me."
Blue irises turned black when his pupils dilated to the point where there was only a slim ring of blue left, and he licked his lips when he heard Arthur consent to being marked up. He gave a pretty hard thrust before he dove down and bit into Arthur's neck, just hard enough to break the skin. He started to suck roughly as his hip twitched slightly and he pulled out only to slam back into the Briton.
Arthur cried out loud as Alfred dug his teeth strongly into his neck, and slammed back into him with more force than ever. A person that did not know what it was like to burn alive, as Arthur did, might have compared the feeling he had to a smoldering fire. It was a whole different emotion, but strong nonetheless. Arthur's legs trembled as he used his calves to help urge Alfred into him and hold on for grip. Searing pain erupted from the place Alfred had bitten into, a little bit of abuse right there. He did not even care if it was going to show up above the collar the next morning.
Alfred pulled away, loving the deep purple and red mark that he had left on that white canvas of Arthur's neck. "Mine..." He growled softly and then moved so that his neck was close to Arthur's mouth. "Now... M-Make me yours." He gasped out, the heat in his stomach becoming too much far too quickly. Balancing on one hand and his knees, he wedged a hand in between them and took hold of Arthur's leaking cock.
He started to play with the tip using his thumb. "Come on..."
When Alfred presented his neck to him, Arthur was not too sure. He did not mark other people much, even if he did like them a lot. Still, as that caramel expanse was offered to him, he could not help but react. His lips sealed around the area and he sucked and kissed. Not quite a full bite like Alfred had given him, but Arthur had another way to really show off Alfred's ownership of him - at least in him as Arthur, if not the nation.
As he shimmied his hips up to chase that cool thumb rubbing the head of his length, Arthur waited till the time was right, before he was dragging his fingernails straight from the middle beneath his neck towards the balls of his shoulders. Soon as that shirt came off, for any point, people would see the marks he made for at least a few weeks. He offered a few more kisses to that strong neck as an apology.
Alfred hummed happily when he neck was sucked and when he felt Arthur's dull nails dig into his skin through his under shirt he all out purred. "God, yessss." He hissed and his hand around Arthur's cock started to pump harshly while his thrusts became fast and erratic. His skin burst out in goose bumps as it started to tingle when the heat in his stomach started to spill over. "Fuck! Arthur! Shit!" He gripped sandy blonde hair tightly and fucked the Briton as hard as he could.
Any other man, and Arthur might have hated the power that they were forcing into the movements - impaling him with their thrusts. With Alfred, Arthur knew exactly why that was. With Alfred, Arthur was with a star. With Alfred, he would not have wanted it any other way. Each time Alfred was sent into him with a strong hurl forwards, making the bed complain loudly beneath them, Arthur could tell that Alfred was putting his all into it - and even if it physically hurt him, it was worth it. Arthur gave out a loud sob when his prostate was jammed into, and he almost spilled - reminding him of how close he was to finishing now. Alfred could not control himself, because he wanted to have all of him. He let go. That was the biggest sign of the fact that Alfred loved him that could possibly have befallen from him, or even from his lips.
The bed jerked and moaned loudly along with Alfred as he gave one last thrust and poured himself inside Arthur, not caring the slightest bit when some gushed out and dripped down Arthur's leg, onto the comforter. He screwed his eyes tight as he let his body ride out the feeling of ecstasy.
It ended with two climaxes - one for them each. After Alfred had the Briton spent and trembling beneath him as his rib cage struggled to rise and fall along with his lungs in unison, they realised that the constant groaning of the bed and exaggerated breaths they had grown accustomed to had dissipated. Arthur wiped the sweat off of his forehead, and glared at the shine now on his fingers. Effort, even for the receiving partner. The Briton flopped back into the sheets bonelessly now. "...Wow." He commented airily. "Aha. Alfred."
Alfred's chest heaved as he took in deep gulps of air, not even caring that his golden bangs clung to his forehead in an annoying and distracting manner. His mind was slowly coming down from the pleasure filled high, his skin cooling and making him shiver when the AC kicked in and brushed over his sweat soaked undershirt. "Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost..." He moaned as he slipped out and rolled over so he wouldn't crush the small Briton.
Arthur moaned uselessly at the loss, and let his legs fall back to the bed as well. As Alfred joined him, the mattress bounced a little. He used that to help him swivel around so he could look at his partner, eye to eye. "So it's just us," Arthur breathed. "Just you and I. I... just I get to feel that?"
The American hummed happily as Arthur curled up against him, he reached over into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. Skillfully lighting the tip Alfred drew in a deep breath and blew the smoke out heavily before offering Arthur a drag of his own from the cigarette. "Well, I love you and from the sounds of it, you love me. Doesn't that sound like you're my only?"
Sharing the same cigarette. Hah. That was something for the movies. Though he could not help but keen towards the romantic gesture. Arthur took a long drag of the cigarette, before he blew the light smoke into Alfred's direction. He laughed a little huskily, before he nodded. "Yes," Arthur said. "Yes, yes I am."
Alfred smiled and took another pull of his cigarette before blowing it out and leaning down to kiss the Briton softly on the forehead. "Arthur Kirkland, you are now my official beau. The United States of America's lover." He smiled and pulled gently on a strand of Arthur's sandy hair. "How do you like that title?
Had Arthur been a weaker willed lover, he might have shied away from a thought that occurred to him. As it was, he smacked Alfred's arm lightly. "Be quiet and do stop being so into yourself," Arthur mumbled. The United States' lover - sounded like Alfred thought that was something to wave around and be proud of. No. He was not in this for the reputation and otherwise gains. "You, Jones, are mine too. So remember that, won't you?"
Alfred stuck his tongue out as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ash tray on the night stand, then moved to spoon against the Briton happily. "Oh, of course I am. Maybe I should get one of those tattoo things that says your name on my arm or something. You know like our sailors do."
"Oh? So your confidence in our relationship lasting is that strong, is it?" The Englishman commented as he shifted to look at one of Alfred's broad shoulders. He stroked and kissed the ball, before his fingers slowly traced further down on his arm till they lingered over the end of the tough muscle. "Here," Arthur said and kissed the area. "Right here, I'd have my name there."
The widest grin spread onto Alfred's face at Arthur planning where his name should be inked onto the American's arm permanently and he quickly moved so that he had Arthur pinned under him. "Mmm. You know... it's pretty late." Alfred barely glanced at the clock, but by the sounds of birds chirping he had to guess it was four or five in the morning.
"We could go to sleep right now, then get only about two hours of sleep and be grumpy all day. Or..." He leaned down and pressed his lips against Arthur's, making his kiss slow and lazy as something slightly hard pressed against Arthur's thigh. "We could have another amazing round, shower together, get some early breakfast and go to our meeting. Then some home and take a nap."
Arthur listened to Alfred's proposal, kissing his lover back with tenderness when needed. "By that, did you mean..." He started, and his face lit up with an air of deviance. "Stay up, have some cracking sex, shower, breakfast, and then sleep all morning and afternoon - or go in and pretend to listen to our bosses and fall asleep at random intervals anyway?" Arthur asked. His lips tugged into a grin. "Yes, yes. I think that would be lovely."
He grasped Alfred's chin and kissed him firmly on the lips as he settled down on the bed sheets, spreading his legs openly in expectance of another round. Finally, his chest was not so terribly heavy with resentment. Or with guilt. It was dangerous, insecure times - but they could manage it. He, meanwhile, as the former world lead, passed the baton onto this younger, fresher prince of economy and power. Frankly, it was a relief to see the end. Now, he knew his Alfred was here because he wanted to be.
His Alfred and his Arthur.
The Black Queen was nothing without his King.
Hope you guys liked it :3.
Chasing Shadows chapter 3 is going to be out in a while. But first, we have another PWP on the way for you.
Cheers for reading!