Rain and Waves
Title: Rain and Waves
Status: One Shot
Pairing: US/UK
Rating: M
Summary: "You don't know what you're doing, do you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. A wave crashed into Alfred's back; Arthur could read the words 'not really' on the other man's lips.
Alfred knew how he wanted romance to work in his life; he wanted his first kiss to be in the rain on a dirt road with the girl he loved running into his arms as the sun peeked through the clouds, and he had to lose his virginity on a beach. That was just the way things should be: absolutely perfect and picturesque like the movies. He didn't tell anyone about this though, as far as all of his friends were concerned, Alfred was a ladies man who hadn't been pure since fifteen.
Lies like that came up all too often among Alfred and his friends; they'd exaggerate and stretch the truth as far as it would go to avoid being called out. The one guy who never played along was Arthur, making him the butt of everyone's jokes. He and Alfred got along well enough, but Al was the biggest victim to mob mentality since John Hawthorne. Around Francis, Alfred fell back on mercilessly harassing his friend.
But sans Francis, or Ivan, or Wang, Arthur found Alfred to be...not a total prat.
---
The two of them lay back in the loose sand, staring up at the darkening sky. It wasn't warm enough to swim, so the two young men were the only ones on the beach.
"What'd you think that one looks like, Arty?" He would ask occasionally pointing at one of the cumulus clouds wading through the blue sky.
"I think it looks like a bloody cloud, you git." Arthur would respond with his eyes closed, "And my name is Arthur." He'd only agreed to go to the beach with Alfred for the small yet contenting pleasure of listening to the waves, and he intended to do that. Next to him, Alfred shifted in the sand and scoffed, cushioning his head on his hands. Behind them, dark clouds were moving toward the sea, obscuring the setting sun.
They were both quiet for a while. Arthur listening to the ocean, and Alfred staring up into the sky.
"Guess Francis was right." Alfred muttered quietly.
"What was that dolt ever right about?" Arthur snapped, turning his head to glare at Alfred, though his real anger was targeted at their mutual 'friend.'
"Oh, well, I just guess he was right when he said that you're not really into all that stuff like watching clouds or walking on beaches," Alfred replied easily, "and that you could never satisfy anybody as long as you live, and you'll always be an unromantic Salaud, whatever that means." The bespectacled blonde laughed brightly as the other pursed his lips and narrowed his green eyes.
"I'll show you who's unromantic," Arthur growled as he whipped to the right and planted his left hand on Alfred's other side, hanging over him. Alfred's blue eyes were wide as he stared up into Arthur's face and only got wider when Arthur planted a harsh kiss on his slightly open lips. Shit! He thought immediately, stiffening and clutching fistfuls of sand which ran through his fingers. This wasn't how things were supposed to work at all. It wasn't raining, this wasn't a dirt road, and Arthur was certainly not the girl he loved. As Arthur's British tongue slipped into his mouth, Alfred let his envisioned first kiss fly out the nonexistent window. He hooked an arm around Arthur's neck and put his tongue to work.
Arthur moaned softly once Alfred began to respond. His fingers dug deeper into the sand as his other hand slid up Alfred's shirt. Then the sand began to shift from under Arthur's hand. The Briton slid down the sand dune and as he went, the American latched to his lips was forced to follow. The pair tumbled down toward the water with grunts and moans. Once they'd stopped, Arthur found his back in the damp sand and Alfred's hands unbuttoning his shirt. Not to be outdone, he slipped Alfred's t-shirt up to his shoulders. The clouds overhead thickened and grew darker. The younger man cut off their kiss so Arthur could remove the offending garment and throw it behind them.
Then Alfred descended on the smaller man's neck; he kissed and nibbled the pale skin as he unbuttoned. Arthur's breath hitched when Alfred's lips passed over his nipple. Encouraged by this reaction, Alfred toyed with the little nub with his tongue, making Arthur whimper and arch his back. Trailing his lips down Arthur's flat stomach, Alfred, parted the powder blue shirt away. A raindrop landed on Arthur's chest and ran down to his collarbone. His green eyes stared up at the sky but quickly snapped back down to the blue eyed blonde busying himself between Arthur's legs.
Alfred was beginning to gather the clarity back when he came to the realization that he didn't know what he was doing. His heart thundered in his ears as he clasped the zipper of Arthur's khaki slacks. The waves were rising and lapped hungrily at the two men in the sand. Thunder rumbled somewhere far away, and the rain began to pour.
"Well," Arthur said over the rising noise as he propped himself up on his elbows, raising his hips to Alfred's hand, "Get on with it." Alfred looked up at the smaller man through his now dripping bangs. Lightning flashed somewhere over the sea, and for a second, Arthur could see the other man's face clearly. He looked confused and even a little scared; Arthur understood why he'd stopped. "You don't know what you're doing, do you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. A wave crashed into Alfred's back and spray splattered over Arthur; he could read the words 'not really' on the other man's lips. "Well, you can start removing my bloody trousers." Alfred nodded mutely and complied, pulling the slacks off and tossing them idly to the side and gazing back up at the man's tented plaid boxers.
Swallowing heavily, Alfred proceeded to remove his own salt water soaked jeans; they clung to his legs and wound up almost five feet away when Alfred finally shook them off. While this was happening, Arthur lay back in the damp sand, listening to the thunder and feeling the rain pelt him and the waves run up his legs, into his boxers and all around him, saturating the fabric of his pants and making them cling to his skin.
He felt two fingers slip under the waistband of his boxers and slowly pull them down. He felt something shield his face from the rain then dripping on his cheeks. Arthur opened his eyes to see Alfred hovering over him like a ghost; lightning forked the sky somewhere down the beach. The younger blonde's eyes were wide and bright, asking where to go next; they were at a standstill again. Arthur gently took the other's hand, brushed as much sand as his could from those long delicate fingers and took three into his mouth.
Alfred gazed down at Arthur's slowly rising and falling chest; a cold wave ran up over his thighs, and Alfred whimpered softly at the sensation. Cool rain slid down his hot face and dripped off his chin. He looked back up as Arthur began guiding his hand down between his legs and pressed one of Alfred's fingers into himself. "M-Move," The Englishman growled after a few seconds. Alfred quickly snapped back into reality. He stretched and flexed Arthur's flesh until he murmured, "Good, 'nother." Alfred pushed in another digit and froze when Arthur groaned and clenched around him. "Don't stop." He snapped, glaring at the stormy sky. Alfred went on bending and stretching until his fingertips brushed something, and Arthur moaned over a roll of thunder. He stared at the man in the sand, rain plastering his blonde hair down, green eyes screwed up in some mix of discomfort and ecstasy, waves easing up around him, leaving trails of sea foam behind, framing him in small white bubbles. Alfred swallowed heavily and his arousal twitched; he'd never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Arthur right now.
Removing his fingers and taking a firm hold on Arthur's hips, Alfred leaned down and kissed the salty skin of the elder's neck. Taking a deep breath, he pushed into his friend's body; Arthur's neck muscles tensed under his lips and his jaw clenched by Alfred's ear. There was a set of fingernails digging into his back as he began to move and labored breathing in his ear. His name moaned with a heavy accent and cool water washing over him repeatedly and heat surrounding him completely.
Sand scratched his back and lightning flashed behind his eyes each time Alfred struck that spot within him. Alfred mumbled something in his ear before muting the Briton's moans with his salty lips. Long sandy fingers wrapped around his length and stroked him slowly only until a voice that sounded very far away shouted at him to go faster. He felt the power of the whole ocean behind every thrust of Alfred's hips. Lightning cracked over the ocean as he climaxed and thunder drowned out each other's names.
Alfred settled down in the sand beside Arthur; he immediately wondered how the other man had put up with lying down the whole time, the sand was really scratchy. The rain slowly came to a stop and the waves washed the two men clean. The pale twilight sky peered out from behind the clouds. "What'd you think that one looks like?" Alfred joked, pointing to one of the smaller clouds floating out to sea.
"I think it looks like," Arthur squinted at the vague shape for a moment, "A unicorn." Alfred scoffed at this and the smaller man glared at him, "Just get my pants, you git."
"Alright," Alfred chuckled, sitting up and reaching to the right. Arthur closed his eyes and let the ocean lap up to his knees, "Um, Arthur," Alfred's voice chimed from his side. Arthur made a pleasant humming noise to show he was listening, "Uh, the wave took our clothes out to sea."
Status: One Shot
Pairing: US/UK
Rating: M
Summary: "You don't know what you're doing, do you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. A wave crashed into Alfred's back; Arthur could read the words 'not really' on the other man's lips.
Alfred knew how he wanted romance to work in his life; he wanted his first kiss to be in the rain on a dirt road with the girl he loved running into his arms as the sun peeked through the clouds, and he had to lose his virginity on a beach. That was just the way things should be: absolutely perfect and picturesque like the movies. He didn't tell anyone about this though, as far as all of his friends were concerned, Alfred was a ladies man who hadn't been pure since fifteen.
Lies like that came up all too often among Alfred and his friends; they'd exaggerate and stretch the truth as far as it would go to avoid being called out. The one guy who never played along was Arthur, making him the butt of everyone's jokes. He and Alfred got along well enough, but Al was the biggest victim to mob mentality since John Hawthorne. Around Francis, Alfred fell back on mercilessly harassing his friend.
But sans Francis, or Ivan, or Wang, Arthur found Alfred to be...not a total prat.
---
The two of them lay back in the loose sand, staring up at the darkening sky. It wasn't warm enough to swim, so the two young men were the only ones on the beach.
"What'd you think that one looks like, Arty?" He would ask occasionally pointing at one of the cumulus clouds wading through the blue sky.
"I think it looks like a bloody cloud, you git." Arthur would respond with his eyes closed, "And my name is Arthur." He'd only agreed to go to the beach with Alfred for the small yet contenting pleasure of listening to the waves, and he intended to do that. Next to him, Alfred shifted in the sand and scoffed, cushioning his head on his hands. Behind them, dark clouds were moving toward the sea, obscuring the setting sun.
They were both quiet for a while. Arthur listening to the ocean, and Alfred staring up into the sky.
"Guess Francis was right." Alfred muttered quietly.
"What was that dolt ever right about?" Arthur snapped, turning his head to glare at Alfred, though his real anger was targeted at their mutual 'friend.'
"Oh, well, I just guess he was right when he said that you're not really into all that stuff like watching clouds or walking on beaches," Alfred replied easily, "and that you could never satisfy anybody as long as you live, and you'll always be an unromantic Salaud, whatever that means." The bespectacled blonde laughed brightly as the other pursed his lips and narrowed his green eyes.
"I'll show you who's unromantic," Arthur growled as he whipped to the right and planted his left hand on Alfred's other side, hanging over him. Alfred's blue eyes were wide as he stared up into Arthur's face and only got wider when Arthur planted a harsh kiss on his slightly open lips. Shit! He thought immediately, stiffening and clutching fistfuls of sand which ran through his fingers. This wasn't how things were supposed to work at all. It wasn't raining, this wasn't a dirt road, and Arthur was certainly not the girl he loved. As Arthur's British tongue slipped into his mouth, Alfred let his envisioned first kiss fly out the nonexistent window. He hooked an arm around Arthur's neck and put his tongue to work.
Arthur moaned softly once Alfred began to respond. His fingers dug deeper into the sand as his other hand slid up Alfred's shirt. Then the sand began to shift from under Arthur's hand. The Briton slid down the sand dune and as he went, the American latched to his lips was forced to follow. The pair tumbled down toward the water with grunts and moans. Once they'd stopped, Arthur found his back in the damp sand and Alfred's hands unbuttoning his shirt. Not to be outdone, he slipped Alfred's t-shirt up to his shoulders. The clouds overhead thickened and grew darker. The younger man cut off their kiss so Arthur could remove the offending garment and throw it behind them.
Then Alfred descended on the smaller man's neck; he kissed and nibbled the pale skin as he unbuttoned. Arthur's breath hitched when Alfred's lips passed over his nipple. Encouraged by this reaction, Alfred toyed with the little nub with his tongue, making Arthur whimper and arch his back. Trailing his lips down Arthur's flat stomach, Alfred, parted the powder blue shirt away. A raindrop landed on Arthur's chest and ran down to his collarbone. His green eyes stared up at the sky but quickly snapped back down to the blue eyed blonde busying himself between Arthur's legs.
Alfred was beginning to gather the clarity back when he came to the realization that he didn't know what he was doing. His heart thundered in his ears as he clasped the zipper of Arthur's khaki slacks. The waves were rising and lapped hungrily at the two men in the sand. Thunder rumbled somewhere far away, and the rain began to pour.
"Well," Arthur said over the rising noise as he propped himself up on his elbows, raising his hips to Alfred's hand, "Get on with it." Alfred looked up at the smaller man through his now dripping bangs. Lightning flashed somewhere over the sea, and for a second, Arthur could see the other man's face clearly. He looked confused and even a little scared; Arthur understood why he'd stopped. "You don't know what you're doing, do you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. A wave crashed into Alfred's back and spray splattered over Arthur; he could read the words 'not really' on the other man's lips. "Well, you can start removing my bloody trousers." Alfred nodded mutely and complied, pulling the slacks off and tossing them idly to the side and gazing back up at the man's tented plaid boxers.
Swallowing heavily, Alfred proceeded to remove his own salt water soaked jeans; they clung to his legs and wound up almost five feet away when Alfred finally shook them off. While this was happening, Arthur lay back in the damp sand, listening to the thunder and feeling the rain pelt him and the waves run up his legs, into his boxers and all around him, saturating the fabric of his pants and making them cling to his skin.
He felt two fingers slip under the waistband of his boxers and slowly pull them down. He felt something shield his face from the rain then dripping on his cheeks. Arthur opened his eyes to see Alfred hovering over him like a ghost; lightning forked the sky somewhere down the beach. The younger blonde's eyes were wide and bright, asking where to go next; they were at a standstill again. Arthur gently took the other's hand, brushed as much sand as his could from those long delicate fingers and took three into his mouth.
Alfred gazed down at Arthur's slowly rising and falling chest; a cold wave ran up over his thighs, and Alfred whimpered softly at the sensation. Cool rain slid down his hot face and dripped off his chin. He looked back up as Arthur began guiding his hand down between his legs and pressed one of Alfred's fingers into himself. "M-Move," The Englishman growled after a few seconds. Alfred quickly snapped back into reality. He stretched and flexed Arthur's flesh until he murmured, "Good, 'nother." Alfred pushed in another digit and froze when Arthur groaned and clenched around him. "Don't stop." He snapped, glaring at the stormy sky. Alfred went on bending and stretching until his fingertips brushed something, and Arthur moaned over a roll of thunder. He stared at the man in the sand, rain plastering his blonde hair down, green eyes screwed up in some mix of discomfort and ecstasy, waves easing up around him, leaving trails of sea foam behind, framing him in small white bubbles. Alfred swallowed heavily and his arousal twitched; he'd never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Arthur right now.
Removing his fingers and taking a firm hold on Arthur's hips, Alfred leaned down and kissed the salty skin of the elder's neck. Taking a deep breath, he pushed into his friend's body; Arthur's neck muscles tensed under his lips and his jaw clenched by Alfred's ear. There was a set of fingernails digging into his back as he began to move and labored breathing in his ear. His name moaned with a heavy accent and cool water washing over him repeatedly and heat surrounding him completely.
Sand scratched his back and lightning flashed behind his eyes each time Alfred struck that spot within him. Alfred mumbled something in his ear before muting the Briton's moans with his salty lips. Long sandy fingers wrapped around his length and stroked him slowly only until a voice that sounded very far away shouted at him to go faster. He felt the power of the whole ocean behind every thrust of Alfred's hips. Lightning cracked over the ocean as he climaxed and thunder drowned out each other's names.
Alfred settled down in the sand beside Arthur; he immediately wondered how the other man had put up with lying down the whole time, the sand was really scratchy. The rain slowly came to a stop and the waves washed the two men clean. The pale twilight sky peered out from behind the clouds. "What'd you think that one looks like?" Alfred joked, pointing to one of the smaller clouds floating out to sea.
"I think it looks like," Arthur squinted at the vague shape for a moment, "A unicorn." Alfred scoffed at this and the smaller man glared at him, "Just get my pants, you git."
"Alright," Alfred chuckled, sitting up and reaching to the right. Arthur closed his eyes and let the ocean lap up to his knees, "Um, Arthur," Alfred's voice chimed from his side. Arthur made a pleasant humming noise to show he was listening, "Uh, the wave took our clothes out to sea."