Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED
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Was it alright, to want this? To want to feel him, all of him, hold him tightly and never let go, not ever, never let anyone else have him, keep him all to himself? Was it alright for a colony to want to possess his country?
No, he didn't want to possess Arthur, not in any way that would put him in a position of power over him...at least, not yet.
No, if anything, he wanted Arthur to possess him, to make him his, consume him, touch him everywhere, everywhere he couldn't reach on his own, and everywhere he could. But, Arthur still saw him as a child...he just wouldn't take him seriously. There was no way he would do something like that, something so utterly adult.
Was that it, then? Was Arthur afraid of hurting him? Was it because he was so young? He felt his blood simmer; if there was one thing he hated, it was being told he was too young.
Still, he thought to himself as he gently lay back and slid his waistband down past his knees, tracing a few fingers over the violently sensitive area where hips met thighs, whatever the reason, it all meant the same thing: Arthur wasn't about to approach him with this.
But did that mean it was wrong? If there was one thing Alfred had learned, it was that Arthur would avoid an uncomfortable subject until his dying day if he could get away with it. It had been the same way with teaching him how to shoot. It had taken ages to convince him he was ready to learn.
And by god, was he ready to learn, now.
Arthur was not there. He had been called out on an emergency earlier in the evening and wouldn't be back for at least another hour. He didn't have to hold himself back.
Hands were no longer sufficient, he discovered, for keeping his sounds unheard. They were too easily distracted by more interesting areas to explore, or his fingers would begin to taste entirely too good, and before long he would be sucking loosely on one or two instead of keeping them tight around his mouth. What exactly the appeal was in that, he didn't quite know, but it felt good nonetheless.
Before too long, he was in nothing but his socks, and he kicked his underwear off with a contented sort of aahhh, stretching out on his bed before reaching down to take himself in hand, sliding his hand up and down, up and down, very slowly at first, quite unlike his usual haste to get himself to the top as quickly as possible. He could afford to enjoy himself tonight.
It felt marvelous, to be able to sigh and moan and murmur to his imaginary Arthur without having to worry about the real one hearing him. It made him feel so free, free to tell the darkness how much he wanted Arthur there with him, beside him, above him, wanted him to hold and stroke and kiss him, because...
Because he loved him. He loved him so much, and he had before, before he had arrived a week or so ago (he couldn't really remember), even before the dreams had started, long, long before. Not like a child loved his parent, not like a brother loved his brother, not like a friend loved his friend. Arthur was more than his friend, more than his brother. Arthur was his everything.
Was it alright to love like that? The question was fleeting, overtaken by sparks and shocks of pleasure that jumped from where his hand met his skin, all the way up his spine and down to his feet. His other hand ventured lower, to cup and massage his sac and gently press and scratch his fingernails into his hips and thighs and ass, and yes...
"Mmnh, Arthur..." he gasped, "Arthur, please, please--"
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He brought his free hand to his mouth and licked up and down one finger, then two, sucking on them between gasps and cries, raising his hips and pulling on himself with increased speed.
"Ah, aaaaah, mmm, yes," his voice had dropped to a whisper, "yes, oh god--"
He was close now, he could feel it. He bit down on the fingers in his mouth and positively writhed on top of the bed sheets. They would be covered with sweat in the morning, he knew it. Sweat among other things.
"Aah, aa-aah, Arthur, Arthur!"
The door to his room was thrown open.
"What, what is it? Are you alri--"
Alfred's eyes rocketed open. Arthur stood panting, flushed, having obviously rushed to see what was wrong with him...
And now they were motionless. Staring at each other. Neither of them saying a word. Neither of them moving. Alfred still had two fingers in his mouth. Arthur was still holding onto the door handle with one hand. He had completely knocked over the chair that Alfred had put there to keep the door shut, but neither of them seemed to notice. Neither of them moved a muscle until Arthur did what, Alfred would decide later, was really the only logical thing to do in his situation.
He bolted back down the hall to his room.
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(Captcha says waggoner pornographer. No joke. Oh god, Captcha, really?)
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But this cliffhanger? *pant*pant* I am on the edge of my metaphorical seat here!
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And I, personally, enjoyed the little mental bits. But I'm just like that.
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I can't quite articulate it but you hit all the right spots for me so, thank you, and know that I am loving this so much. ^///^
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They'd come this far already; Alfred wasn't about to let Arthur slip through his fingers again.
He yanked his socks off and tore after him, naked as it was possible to be and absolutely frantic. He made it to Arthur's room just in time to slip through the door as Arthur was closing it. They stared at each other for a moment, Alfred trying to catch his breath, before Arthur walked slowly to sit on his bed, giving a defeated sigh.
"I'm so sorry, Alfred."
"You haven't done anything wrong." Alfred tilted his head. "Why are you sorry?"
"I...I feel like I should be. I feel like I've hurt you, somehow."
"You haven't hurt me," Alfred whispered, coming to sit beside him, moving closer as Arthur flinched away. "You haven't done anything to me."
"Not yet," Arthur ran his fingers through his hair furiously, scratching at his scalp. "Not yet, I haven't, but god, the things I've thought--" he gave a frustrated hiss, "I'm not right, Alfred. Something is very, very wrong with me. You're so young, and I don't know how to control myself, and I just...god, I'm afraid I'll end up hurting you, and then I'll never forgive myself. Seeing you like that...you're not ready to be with someone. Not like that. But you're just so...wonderful, and it makes me want things I shouldn't want. Please tell me you understand."
Silence. Alfred knew Arthur wasn't done, and he wanted him to say everything before he spoke.
"I'm so sorry, Alfred," Arthur shook his head, hands over his face. "Just...I promise, just go back to your room, go back to sleep, and you can make sure my door is shut, and we can forget this ever happened. Whatever it takes to keep you safe."
Alfred watched the nation come undone before him, in anguish over his desire to protect him, and decided yes, yes it was alright to love like this.
"Arthur, what about everything I've done?" Alfred put a hand on his arm. "What about that night by the fireplace, or when you were filing my nails? Arthur, you could never hurt me. I love you, and--" He moved his hand up to Arthur's face, his mouth almost refusing to form the words, "--I...I want you. All of you."
"No, you don't," Arthur shook his head. "No, you don't, because you're too young to want anyone that way, and you don't know what you're asking for, or what it really means, or--"
Alfred grabbed his shoulders and swung himself onto Arthur's lap before the man could say another word, clamping a hand over his mouth and locking eyes with him.
"Arthur," he said, projecting his voice so that it was a little louder than necessary, "No more apologies. No more talking. You're going to think yourself sick one of these days. Just...listen. I'm gonna say it again: I. Love. You. More than anything else in the world. More than spending an afternoon at the beach throwing rocks at seagulls. More than apple pie hot from the oven. More than Christmas. More than riding my horse so fast my hat flies off and I nearly fall out of the saddle, and if I had to give all that up just so you would stay with me, I'd do it. And I want you to--to hold me. And I never, ever want you let me go. I want you all to myself. And I want you to kiss me, and touch me, just--everywhere, anywhere you want, I don't care. As long as it's you."
Moving quickly, he moved his now-shaking hand and pressed his lips to Arthur's so hard he could feel the other man's teeth.
"As long as it's you."
He closed his eyes, steeling himself, ready to be thrown out of the room, ready to be left forever...
And then a large, strong hand made its way over his brow, moving the hair from in front of his eyes, over the side of his head, down his jawline and over his throat before coming to rest on his shoulder. Slowly, dreading what he might see, he lifted his head and opened his eyes.
Arthur's eyes were pained, but he was smiling.
"If you're hurt, or if you're scared, or if you just don't feel right, anything at all...tell me. Promise you'll tell me."
Alfred was shaking like a leaf.
"P-promise."
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It was...well, it was very wet. Very slippery. And so very warm. It took a minute for him to get used to the feeling, but soon he had gotten over the strangeness of it and slid his tongue with Arthur's. He could taste rhubarb, and tea (Arthur must have had dessert wherever he'd gone), and something totally different that was purely Arthur, and it was one of the weirdest and most wonderful things he'd ever tasted. He combed his fingers through Arthur's hair, clung to the fabric of his shirt, caressed the sides of his face, anything he could do just to feel him, to know he was there, that this was real. Unconsciously, he ground his hips into Arthur's, and quickly decided that was the best idea he'd had all night, and that he should keep doing it as much as he could.
After what could have been forever, Arthur broke off and looked at Alfred with pleading eyes, his heated gaze clouded with something that made something spin in Alfred's chest.
"You--" he whispered breathlessly, "you're sure you want this?"
Alfred could only nod.
"Alright..." Arthur breathed deeply a few times, "...alright."
He began to unbutton his shirt, kicking his unlaced boots off in the process. Alfred undid his belt buckle as quickly as he could and began to pull his shirt out of his waistband. When Arthur's shirt was out of the way and his trousers undone, Alfred gripped his waistband and slid off of Arthur's lap, taking his trousers down with him. Quick as lightning, he pulled himself back up onto the bed and knocked Arthur onto his back, pressing their hips together and kissing him fiercely.
Arthur broke off again and began to trail kisses from his cheek to his jaw, taking a nip at his earlobe before kissing and sucking his way down Alfred's neck. Alfred leaned his head back and positively groaned, biting his lip as Arthur's teeth grazed his skin. His eyes shot open in surprise as Arthur found the cluster of nerves where neck met shoulder and bit down just hard enough to leave a mark. His hands fisted in Arthur's hair, eyes closing of their own accord.
"Aaah, yesssss, mmnh, harder! Bite harder!" He moaned in delight as Arthur complied, making sure that the mark was far enough down to be hidden under his shirt.
From there, he traveled lower, licking and kissing and sucking and biting his way down Alfred's shoulders and chest, just barely pinching his nipples with his teeth. One hand was wrapped around Alfred's back, and the other had reached down to squeeze and caress his ass. Alfred's moans had become softer, more breathless, and he could feel his neglected length resting on Arthur's stomach, hot and close to dripping.
"Touch me," he keened, "please, Arthur. Touch me."
Arthur slid him down until their hips met again and reached blindly for his bedside table. A small bottle of bath oil was contained within, and Arthur poured a small amount onto his hand before taking both of their lengths in hand and twisting, pumping, all the while rocking his hips up to meet Alfred's.
"AAAH! Oh, oh yes, ah-- yes, anh, please," Alfred's eyes fluttered closed. It was so much better when Arthur did it, so much better to feel Arthur's larger length against his own, feeling its heat and movement. He shifted until his knees were on either side of Arthur's hips and sat upright so he could move better, positively gyrating into the friction of Arthur's fingers. He could feel those burning eyes on him, watching his every move and responding very loudly.
"Oohh, nnnh," Arthur's head snapped to one side and twisted down into the sheets, "oh my god, Alfred."
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All of a sudden, Arthur stopped. Alfred raised an eyebrow, leaning down to look at Arthur with a very confused, very frustrated expression.
"I want--" Arthur cleared his throat; his voice was breathless, "I want to try something. Do you--" cleared his throat again, "do you trust me?"
Alfred nodded.
"Right, then. Lie...lie down. Up there." He indicated the head of the bed and reached for the oil again.
Alfred shifted upwards and lay back, resting his head on the pillows and hoping this wouldn't take too long. Arthur poured more of the oil on his fingertips and spread it around Alfred's entrance, making his face twist into a comically (well, it would have been funny if it had been in any other situation) confused expression.
"What in the world?" He asked softly.
"It will feel good in a minute," Arthur reassured him. "I promise."
"Alright..." Alfred still couldn't see how this could feel anything but weird. Nevertheless, he figured Arthur knew more about this kind of thing than he did...
The bottle of oil was almost empty by the time Arthur was finished with it, and Alfred, who had been wondering where Arthur had been going with this, nearly jumped in shock when the tip of his finger found its way inside him.
"Are you alright?" Arthur was looking at him in concern again. "If it hurts, just let me know, and I'll stop. I promise."
"No, it's..." Alfred didn't know how to describe it, really. "It doesn't hurt, really. You can keep going." He relaxed a bit and let Arthur slide his finger in all the way, turning and curling to let him get used to the sensation.
"Is it alright?" He asked.
"Yeah," Alfred nodded. "Yeah, it's alright."
"My god, it's so tight..." Arthur lowered his head and closed his eyes, almost in disbelief. "Okay, I'm going to add another one. Just one more. Is that okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, one more."
Alfred let his eyes close once more as the finger was withdrawn, replaced quickly by what felt like his two middle fingers, which moved in farther and curled more strongly than his index finger had.
"How's that?"
"Good," Alfred was starting to enjoy the feeling of having part of Arthur inside of him, as well as around him, beside him, above him. He idly took his own length into his hand again as Arthur's fingers twisted and pressed. "It feels so strange, but--oooh." The fingers had curled at just the right angle, brushing against something Alfred had never felt before.
"Was that it?" Arthur asked.
"Dunno what you're talking about," Alfred whispered. "Just do it again."
Arthur complied, pressing and stroking that spot inside of him, then pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in again quickly. Without even noticing it, Alfred began to move his hips to meet Arthur's fingers, watching as Arthur breathlessly began to bring himself off above him. Their movements became faster, more erratic. Alfred brought his hand up to catch Arthur's shoulder, vision clouded with pleasure.
"Yes, so good, god, that feels so good...more, more--harder, ooh, please, harder." He dug his nails into Arthur's shoulder. "Here. Come here. Kiss me. Please, Arthur. Kiss me."
Arthur took his hand from his own hardness and wrapped it around the back of Alfred's head, kissing him with everything he had. Alfred took his free hand and did the only thing that seemed sensible and began to pump Arthur's shaft as well as his own, which made Arthur give a shuddering cry and kiss him harder, fusing their mouths and sucking on Alfred's tongue between breaths.
"Say my name," he murmured against Alfred's mouth, "at the end. Say my name."
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"Aanh! Yes! Oh, god yes, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!"
Pleasure exploded inside of him, causing him to lose his sight in a blinding flash and snap off of the bed, a warm stickiness coating one of his hands while the other clenched around Arthur. He regained his vision in time to see Arthur remove his fingers and use that hand to support himself while the other wrapped itself around Alfred's hand and moved with it, increasing in speed.
"Oohhh," his teeth clenched, and his eyes screwed shut as he came, "aah, AH! God , Alfred! Aah--ah"
His seed splashed across Alfred's stomach, mixing with Alfred's own. He collapsed onto the bed beside him, reaching onto the bedside table to find a small towel he used to clean them both up with. Alfred reached down and brought one of the blankets at the foot of the bed up to cover them. He gave Arthur a soft kiss on the cheek and scooted closer to him.
"Love you, Arthur," he whispered.
He was just barely awake long enough feel Arthur's arm wrap around him and hear his whisper of "Love you too, more than you know," before sleep took him.
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So, that's that. This isn't the end, by the way. There's going to be one more chapter, because there needs to be at least a morning after for these two. XD Also, to the people who have consistently followed this and commented (I know there are at least three of you), thank you all so much. That's what keeps me going.
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"Aanh! Yes! Oh, god yes, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!"
Pleasure exploded inside of him, causing him to lose his sight in a blinding flash and snap off of the bed, a warm stickiness coating one of his hands while the other clenched around Arthur. He regained his vision in time to see Arthur remove his fingers and use that hand to support himself while the other wrapped itself around Alfred's hand and moved with it, increasing in speed.
"Oohhh," his teeth clenched, and his eyes screwed shut as he came, "aah, AH! God , Alfred! Aah--ah"
His seed splashed across Alfred's stomach, mixing with Alfred's own. He collapsed onto the bed beside him, reaching onto the bedside table to find a small towel he used to clean them both up with. Alfred reached down and brought one of the blankets at the foot of the bed up to cover them. He gave Arthur a soft kiss on the cheek and scooted closer to him.
"Love you, Arthur," he whispered.
He was just barely awake long enough feel Arthur's arm wrap around him and hear his whisper of "Love you too, more than you know," before sleep took him.
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So, that's that. This isn't the end, by the way. There's going to be one more chapter, because there needs to be at least a morning after for these two. XD Also, to the people who have consistently followed this and commented (I know there are at least three of you), thank you all so much. That's what keeps me going. Also, WE MADE IT THIS FAR WITH NO HTML FAIL. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE NOW? So sorry... m(_ _)m
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lovely.
glad I decided to check the meme again before bed.
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