Writing's on the Wall 4/9
anonymous
October 22 2010, 01:41:44 UTC
“Have you seen my arms?” Alfred counters, and Arthur slants his eyes to his arms. Though covered by the shirt, he can still see the way the muscles are tensed as he holds up Arthur.
Arthur raises his eyebrows for just a moment before letting them fall, aiming for condescension but ending up being a bit more appreciative as he slid his hands over the curves of Alfred’s biceps.
“Quite,” he says.
“See? Hot and strong,” Alfred says, grinning. “I’m a catch.”
“I repeat my earlier conceited statement,” Arthur says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s remarkable to me that you haven’t found a way to just sleep with your reflection every night instead.”
“I’d be lucky to have me,” Alfred says with a rare moment of solemnity that’s quickly destroyed when he laughs and kisses at Arthur’s chin. “Too bad you’re here to ruin that perfect romance, Arthur. You’re just too nice to look at.”
Arthur feels the blush in his cheeks and he huffs.
Alfred leans in close again, kissing at Arthur’s mouth. Arthur opens to him, but Alfred doesn’t move to deepen the kiss. He still holds onto Arthur, and Arthur has no intention of unwrapping and unfolding himself from around Alfred’s body, but he fears that Alfred has already noticed the blush on his face.
His next statement proves he has seen it. Because Alfred pulls away from the kiss, close enough that their lips brush, and Alfred’s ridiculously blue eyes stare at Arthur as he practically purrs, “Hey, beautiful.”
Then he leans up and kisses Arthur and the nose and it takes all Arthur’s restraint not to punch him or stutter out something incoherent. It’s all well and good to tease Alfred, to have Alfred to himself, but he still has no idea what to do with compliments or that kind of affection. He can appreciate Alfred’s body and beauty until the minutes shaved off from hours, but it still took getting used to-to know that someone found him attractive in turn. Especially someone like Alfred.
So Arthur just wrinkles his nose, trying to resist the urge to melt against Alfred while wishing he could curse his name-damn sappy, damn fucking perfect boy-and just scowls at the wall.
“Shut up,” he manages to mutter, but Alfred is laughing and Arthur can feel the laughter rumbling in the lad’s chest and it made Arthur’s chest ache. Alfred is too busy smiling, running one hand down Arthur’s chest with such reverence that Arthur thinks he really is going to melt against him. Especially when Alfred thumbs at the old Blitz scars and Arthur closes his eyes. “Idiot,” he breathes. “Damn lovely idiot.”
Alfred laughs. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
Arthur opens his eyes just so he can locate Alfred’s mouth, than captures it, biting at the lower lip and demanding physical attention-if only to get away from the emotional vulnerability he fears he’s about to stumble into.
“Oh, fuck me,” he mumbles to himself against Alfred’s mouth.
Alfred bites back, and whispers with just a small little laugh, one that sounds almost nervous-as if they’d never done this before, as if they hadn’t thought about it since the night they had to leave each other-“That’s the plan, isn’t it?”
Arthur just tightens his hold on Alfred, squeezing his waist between his legs and writhing. That’s his answer, and Alfred isn’t about to question it. They kiss again-sloppy, frenzied, but them. Theirs. Only Alfred, that’s all-
Arthur moans quietly against his mouth as Alfred rolls his hips in just the right way, pushes themselves together until the space between them is just the space where they can draw air into their dying lungs. Arthur’s heart thunders, but he can’t pull away-doesn’t want to breathe, if it means not kissing Alfred. God, how he has missed him.
Arthur realizes that he’ll eventually have to get off of Alfred, if either of them are to get their pants off. But that means arching away from Alfred, and that’s the last thing he wants. He strokes his fingers over his body, tugs at his shirt, arches up to slide his fingers over his neck and snarl in his hair. Alfred just keeps kissing him, rocking against his hips as if he is already inside Arthur, and Arthur has no idea how long either of them will last-it’s been so long, too long-
Arthur raises his eyebrows for just a moment before letting them fall, aiming for condescension but ending up being a bit more appreciative as he slid his hands over the curves of Alfred’s biceps.
“Quite,” he says.
“See? Hot and strong,” Alfred says, grinning. “I’m a catch.”
“I repeat my earlier conceited statement,” Arthur says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s remarkable to me that you haven’t found a way to just sleep with your reflection every night instead.”
“I’d be lucky to have me,” Alfred says with a rare moment of solemnity that’s quickly destroyed when he laughs and kisses at Arthur’s chin. “Too bad you’re here to ruin that perfect romance, Arthur. You’re just too nice to look at.”
Arthur feels the blush in his cheeks and he huffs.
Alfred leans in close again, kissing at Arthur’s mouth. Arthur opens to him, but Alfred doesn’t move to deepen the kiss. He still holds onto Arthur, and Arthur has no intention of unwrapping and unfolding himself from around Alfred’s body, but he fears that Alfred has already noticed the blush on his face.
His next statement proves he has seen it. Because Alfred pulls away from the kiss, close enough that their lips brush, and Alfred’s ridiculously blue eyes stare at Arthur as he practically purrs, “Hey, beautiful.”
Then he leans up and kisses Arthur and the nose and it takes all Arthur’s restraint not to punch him or stutter out something incoherent. It’s all well and good to tease Alfred, to have Alfred to himself, but he still has no idea what to do with compliments or that kind of affection. He can appreciate Alfred’s body and beauty until the minutes shaved off from hours, but it still took getting used to-to know that someone found him attractive in turn. Especially someone like Alfred.
So Arthur just wrinkles his nose, trying to resist the urge to melt against Alfred while wishing he could curse his name-damn sappy, damn fucking perfect boy-and just scowls at the wall.
“Shut up,” he manages to mutter, but Alfred is laughing and Arthur can feel the laughter rumbling in the lad’s chest and it made Arthur’s chest ache. Alfred is too busy smiling, running one hand down Arthur’s chest with such reverence that Arthur thinks he really is going to melt against him. Especially when Alfred thumbs at the old Blitz scars and Arthur closes his eyes. “Idiot,” he breathes. “Damn lovely idiot.”
Alfred laughs. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
Arthur opens his eyes just so he can locate Alfred’s mouth, than captures it, biting at the lower lip and demanding physical attention-if only to get away from the emotional vulnerability he fears he’s about to stumble into.
“Oh, fuck me,” he mumbles to himself against Alfred’s mouth.
Alfred bites back, and whispers with just a small little laugh, one that sounds almost nervous-as if they’d never done this before, as if they hadn’t thought about it since the night they had to leave each other-“That’s the plan, isn’t it?”
Arthur just tightens his hold on Alfred, squeezing his waist between his legs and writhing. That’s his answer, and Alfred isn’t about to question it. They kiss again-sloppy, frenzied, but them. Theirs. Only Alfred, that’s all-
Arthur moans quietly against his mouth as Alfred rolls his hips in just the right way, pushes themselves together until the space between them is just the space where they can draw air into their dying lungs. Arthur’s heart thunders, but he can’t pull away-doesn’t want to breathe, if it means not kissing Alfred. God, how he has missed him.
Arthur realizes that he’ll eventually have to get off of Alfred, if either of them are to get their pants off. But that means arching away from Alfred, and that’s the last thing he wants. He strokes his fingers over his body, tugs at his shirt, arches up to slide his fingers over his neck and snarl in his hair. Alfred just keeps kissing him, rocking against his hips as if he is already inside Arthur, and Arthur has no idea how long either of them will last-it’s been so long, too long-
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