Act Natural [6d/?]
anonymous
November 6 2010, 17:48:33 UTC
Alfred hummed, nodding slightly as his fingers trailed up Arthur's side. “So you're exhausted,” he said, “and breathing hard, but super relaxed and sated 'cause it was awesome sex,” he continued, kneading Arthur's muscles. The Englishman closed his eyes again and let out a shaky sigh, felt the tension flow from his body beneath those strong fingers. His breathing had gotten deeper and those damn butterflies were making him feel lightheaded as they flew up and into his lungs, his breaths fluttering out from beneath parted lips to the same rhythm of their flight.
“You catch your breath,” Alfred whispered, leaning forward, lips entirely too close to Arthur's neck, breath too warm as it washed over his exposed skin. Arthur took a deep gulp of air, let it skitter out across his lips. “And your senses slowly come back and you get that all-over warm feeling that rushes through your chest and your fingers and toes.”
Arthur nodded slowly, but his breath hitched quietly when he felt Alfred's hand trace up his chest and then down, once, as the American's breath washed over his lips.
“Now,” Alfred whispered. “What do you do?”
Arthur's mind paused.
He would run his hands down his lover's chest, swirl his fingers in the spend that still clung to his torso. He would tuck his nose into that space between neck and shoulder, breath in the smell of sweat and sex and the lingering traces of soap. He would trace the lines of muscle and bone, memorize the curve of a hip and the dip of a clavicle, file it away in that part of his brain labeled never forget.
He would slide his hips back just slightly, drop his hands to flick warm fingers across the jut of a hipbone, the smooth dip just inside a toned thigh. He would want to say something. You were amazing, perhaps, or I've wanted you since forever. But he was better with words when they were on paper, so he would drag his nose across heated skin, his chosen canvas, and mouth more against the underside of a strong jaw. More heat, more skin, more ragged breathing, more just-there kisses, more slow touches - the request would be non-specific. Just...
“More,” Arthur whispered. He opened his eyes, watched as Alfred's mouth inched closer for long, slow moments, imagined how those lips would taste, before watching them pull back, stretch into a grin. His heart stuttered once, twice, then started back up again.
“How was that?” Alfred asked. “Inspirational?”
Arthur came back to himself and blinked twice, realized where he was, who he was with. His cheeks warmed. Yes. It had been inspirational - Arthur shifted subtly - in more ways than one.
“Whenever I was stuck in my writing class,” Alfred continued, completely oblivious to Arthur's increasingly uncomfortable problem, “I would try and act it out. My prof said it was because I'm a physical person, whatever that means.”
Alfred was physical, all right. Arthur had known that since the day he'd come to fix his window. Unfortunately, it seemed the American was completely unaware of this fact, or how it affected others. And right now, as Arthur tried valiantly and with much subtly to hide his growing erection, that particular character flaw, though endearing in its own way, was the bane of his existence.
Act Natural [6e/?]
anonymous
November 6 2010, 17:50:59 UTC
There were many things that Arthur wanted to say to Alfred. You fucking tease seemed a little abrupt and not entirely conducive to winning the American over. And, quite honestly, would you just goddamned take me already, you sexy manbeast felt a little forward, though it was truthful and expressed Arthur's frustration with an effective sort of bluntness. There were a multitude of adjectives, adverbs and creative pronouns that were bouncing around in his head, most of them in regards to some part of Alfred's anatomy, but none of them really seemed appropriate for the situation. All Arthur wanted to do was kiss the man, to run his fingers through his slightly damp hair, to curl his finger around that damned cowlick, to take those glasses off and look into the blue of his eyes without any sort of barrier between them.
But when Alfred raised an eyebrow in question and tilted his head to the side, Arthur knew his window of opportunity had been lost to his wandering thoughts.
So he settled with, “Thank you.”
Alfred's expression eased back into his trademark smile and he patted Arthur's sides where his hands rested. “No problemo,” he said.
Arthur nodded quickly, then moved to climb off of Alfred's lap, careful to keep his little problem hidden as best he could through strategic motions and an impressive twist of his torso that brought his cock mournfully away from its favorite new person. And he was almost home free when the inevitable happened.
His brain shut off again.
In his haste to get off and away from Alfred, he planted his hand on a loose throw pillow and fell face first into the floor in an impressive flail of limbs and with a large, ominous thump. His arse was still mostly on the couch and Arthur took a second to make sure his teeth were all still in place before he let himself slide the rest of the way to the ground, slowly and with great dignity.
“Graceful,” he heard Alfred say, and he could hear the amusement in the man's voice. Wanker.
“I'm fine,” Arthur said in return, unwilling to voice any of his thoughts, lest he make the situation even more awkward and embarrassing than it already was (truly a feat to be accomplished, but if his track record was anything to go by, he was more than capable of upping the level of mortification with an ease roughly similar to that with which normal people drew breath). His mind, spurred into creativity by Alfred's previous 'aid', was helpfully providing him with countless scenarios that were making his cheeks heat and his groin ache.
Are you sure you're okay? Alfred could say, worry clear in his tone. His hands would run carefully over Arthur's back and sides as the Englishman picked himself up. In his quest to check for injuries, Alfred would inevitably find Arthur's half hard cock, run his hands over the bulge in Arthur's trousers, and the American's expression would turn from worried to appreciative in point two seconds flat. Alfred would push Arthur's back up against the couch and the scene they had just played out would be at the forefront of their minds.
Arthur's hands would be unable to keep still and he would slide them up and underneath Alfred's shirt, seeking warm skin, letting his fingers trail up and over his ribs to the American's nipples. Arthur would roll them, latch his mouth onto the underside of Alfred's jaw and just enjoy the sounds that Alfred made as he arched into Arthur's touch.
“That feels hella good,” Alfred said loudly and with none of the abject want in his voice that Arthur would've expected given the fact that Arthur was still attached to his neck. “I think it's finally fixed.”
What's fixed? Oh. Arthur creaked his eye open from where his face was still smashed into the carpet to see Alfred standing directly in front of his new air conditioner. He must have had it on full blast because his fringe was blown away from his forehead and his cowlick was bobbing gleefully as he turned his head this way and that, a rather large grin spread across his features.
Act Natural [6f/?]
anonymous
November 6 2010, 17:52:43 UTC
He turned to Arthur and said, “I'll send you the bill!” Then he picked up his stuff and made his way toward the door, pausing only momentarily to glance back at Arthur, opening his mouth and hesitating. Arthur heaved a long, heavy sigh.
“I'm fine,” he repeated, though somewhat morosely.
Arthur heard the distinct muffling of what sounded like a giggle. “Okay, see you!”
Arthur groaned, turned his face fully into the carpet and let out a shaky exhale. His cock, still hard and wanting nothing less than an American hand to jerk it off or possibly an American mouth to blow it, was pressed painfully into the floor. He shifted his hips to help with the pain, but only managed to create friction and excite it further. The fantasies of Alfred were still swirling around in his mind and he lifted his head slightly as he heard the telltale sound of the American's truck take off down the street. Then he let his head fall back down with another resounding thunk.
Arthur Kirkland was well and truly fucked. The sad part was it was only figurative.
x o x
Are you frustrated yet? Arthur is.
This is the longest fill I've ever written for the kink meme. OTL But we are nearing the end! Stick with me and they might actually have sex. Probably. Maybe. We'll see. XP
Re: Act Natural [6f/?]
anonymous
November 7 2010, 03:03:34 UTC
Yes. Yes, I am. So, so, frustrated.
My god you update quickly. How do you do it? ♥
I'm hot, bothered, yet laughing like a maniac. And with just how much hot sex this fic has, I realized this is the first actual physical contact between them. XD But uff god that's hot. Seriously? Acting out a sex afterglow? UMPH. This is an awesome way to end my night, by the way, and I absolutely squealed when I saw this update.
Also d-do you mean to tell me you've written more than this? Would you please tell me what else you've written on here so I can possibly stalk follow your works?
Re: Act Natural [6f/?]
anonymous
November 7 2010, 08:52:24 UTC
Oh geez.
Arthur. Arthur. Poor Arthur.
Every time that man comes over you have a boner. Every time that man doesn't come over you have a boner. And he wants to help you out with your sex fantasies.
Re: Act Natural [6f/?]
anonymous
November 8 2010, 06:06:24 UTC
You are an evil cockblock, do you know that? And I don't even have a cock to block. God, this is killing me. KILLING ME. Every time you update, you make my day.
My favourite part? Arthur sliding from the coach with great dignity
Re: Act Natural [6f/?]
anonymous
November 9 2010, 02:29:27 UTC
Wow, someone upstairs is really trying to make Arthur's life miserable XDDDDD Oh man, this fill cracks me up, makes me flush, and is overall the grandest entertainment a girl could ask for *__*
You're fantastic, author anon! Your updates make me giggle and clap my hands like a little girl every time, hahaha
Re: Act Natural [6f/?]
anonymous
November 13 2010, 20:15:12 UTC
"Arthur Kirkland was well and truly fucked. The sad part was it was only figurative." Hahahahahaha! That line is absolutely amazing! I laughed out loud. I LOVE your sense of humour. XD
Poor Arthur! If it keeps on like this, one day he will snap and just jump on an unsuspecting Alfred! However, I have a feeling that Alfred might not be against that idea... Come on! I know Alfred is a nice guy and willing to help, but helping your employer finish his gay porn story by pulling him in your lap and acting out an after-sex scene (complete with soft touches and teasing almost kisses) is waaaaay too much. XD
I'll definitely be stalking this story! I wonder how many more times Arthur's brain will shut off. XD
“You catch your breath,” Alfred whispered, leaning forward, lips entirely too close to Arthur's neck, breath too warm as it washed over his exposed skin. Arthur took a deep gulp of air, let it skitter out across his lips. “And your senses slowly come back and you get that all-over warm feeling that rushes through your chest and your fingers and toes.”
Arthur nodded slowly, but his breath hitched quietly when he felt Alfred's hand trace up his chest and then down, once, as the American's breath washed over his lips.
“Now,” Alfred whispered. “What do you do?”
Arthur's mind paused.
He would run his hands down his lover's chest, swirl his fingers in the spend that still clung to his torso. He would tuck his nose into that space between neck and shoulder, breath in the smell of sweat and sex and the lingering traces of soap. He would trace the lines of muscle and bone, memorize the curve of a hip and the dip of a clavicle, file it away in that part of his brain labeled never forget.
He would slide his hips back just slightly, drop his hands to flick warm fingers across the jut of a hipbone, the smooth dip just inside a toned thigh. He would want to say something. You were amazing, perhaps, or I've wanted you since forever. But he was better with words when they were on paper, so he would drag his nose across heated skin, his chosen canvas, and mouth more against the underside of a strong jaw. More heat, more skin, more ragged breathing, more just-there kisses, more slow touches - the request would be non-specific. Just...
“More,” Arthur whispered. He opened his eyes, watched as Alfred's mouth inched closer for long, slow moments, imagined how those lips would taste, before watching them pull back, stretch into a grin. His heart stuttered once, twice, then started back up again.
“How was that?” Alfred asked. “Inspirational?”
Arthur came back to himself and blinked twice, realized where he was, who he was with. His cheeks warmed. Yes. It had been inspirational - Arthur shifted subtly - in more ways than one.
“Whenever I was stuck in my writing class,” Alfred continued, completely oblivious to Arthur's increasingly uncomfortable problem, “I would try and act it out. My prof said it was because I'm a physical person, whatever that means.”
Alfred was physical, all right. Arthur had known that since the day he'd come to fix his window. Unfortunately, it seemed the American was completely unaware of this fact, or how it affected others. And right now, as Arthur tried valiantly and with much subtly to hide his growing erection, that particular character flaw, though endearing in its own way, was the bane of his existence.
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But when Alfred raised an eyebrow in question and tilted his head to the side, Arthur knew his window of opportunity had been lost to his wandering thoughts.
So he settled with, “Thank you.”
Alfred's expression eased back into his trademark smile and he patted Arthur's sides where his hands rested. “No problemo,” he said.
Arthur nodded quickly, then moved to climb off of Alfred's lap, careful to keep his little problem hidden as best he could through strategic motions and an impressive twist of his torso that brought his cock mournfully away from its favorite new person. And he was almost home free when the inevitable happened.
His brain shut off again.
In his haste to get off and away from Alfred, he planted his hand on a loose throw pillow and fell face first into the floor in an impressive flail of limbs and with a large, ominous thump. His arse was still mostly on the couch and Arthur took a second to make sure his teeth were all still in place before he let himself slide the rest of the way to the ground, slowly and with great dignity.
“Graceful,” he heard Alfred say, and he could hear the amusement in the man's voice. Wanker.
“I'm fine,” Arthur said in return, unwilling to voice any of his thoughts, lest he make the situation even more awkward and embarrassing than it already was (truly a feat to be accomplished, but if his track record was anything to go by, he was more than capable of upping the level of mortification with an ease roughly similar to that with which normal people drew breath). His mind, spurred into creativity by Alfred's previous 'aid', was helpfully providing him with countless scenarios that were making his cheeks heat and his groin ache.
Are you sure you're okay? Alfred could say, worry clear in his tone. His hands would run carefully over Arthur's back and sides as the Englishman picked himself up. In his quest to check for injuries, Alfred would inevitably find Arthur's half hard cock, run his hands over the bulge in Arthur's trousers, and the American's expression would turn from worried to appreciative in point two seconds flat. Alfred would push Arthur's back up against the couch and the scene they had just played out would be at the forefront of their minds.
Arthur's hands would be unable to keep still and he would slide them up and underneath Alfred's shirt, seeking warm skin, letting his fingers trail up and over his ribs to the American's nipples. Arthur would roll them, latch his mouth onto the underside of Alfred's jaw and just enjoy the sounds that Alfred made as he arched into Arthur's touch.
“That feels hella good,” Alfred said loudly and with none of the abject want in his voice that Arthur would've expected given the fact that Arthur was still attached to his neck. “I think it's finally fixed.”
What's fixed? Oh. Arthur creaked his eye open from where his face was still smashed into the carpet to see Alfred standing directly in front of his new air conditioner. He must have had it on full blast because his fringe was blown away from his forehead and his cowlick was bobbing gleefully as he turned his head this way and that, a rather large grin spread across his features.
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“I'm fine,” he repeated, though somewhat morosely.
Arthur heard the distinct muffling of what sounded like a giggle. “Okay, see you!”
Arthur groaned, turned his face fully into the carpet and let out a shaky exhale. His cock, still hard and wanting nothing less than an American hand to jerk it off or possibly an American mouth to blow it, was pressed painfully into the floor. He shifted his hips to help with the pain, but only managed to create friction and excite it further. The fantasies of Alfred were still swirling around in his mind and he lifted his head slightly as he heard the telltale sound of the American's truck take off down the street. Then he let his head fall back down with another resounding thunk.
Arthur Kirkland was well and truly fucked. The sad part was it was only figurative.
x o x
Are you frustrated yet? Arthur is.
This is the longest fill I've ever written for the kink meme. OTL But we are nearing the end! Stick with me and they might actually have sex. Probably. Maybe. We'll see. XP
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Oh, Alfred, you tease sexy beast you. Hnng I'm sorry, Arthur, but I'm really enjoying your pain.
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I still love you, tho. Can't wait for more.
and my God Alfred, you can be a physical person with me whenever y'want babe ♥
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Please write more because this is so hot!
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Love forever
-ANon
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My god you update quickly. How do you do it? ♥
I'm hot, bothered, yet laughing like a maniac. And with just how much hot sex this fic has, I realized this is the first actual physical contact between them. XD But uff god that's hot. Seriously? Acting out a sex afterglow? UMPH. This is an awesome way to end my night, by the way, and I absolutely squealed when I saw this update.
Also d-do you mean to tell me you've written more than this? Would you please tell me what else you've written on here so I can possibly stalk follow your works?
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Arthur. Arthur. Poor Arthur.
Every time that man comes over you have a boner. Every time that man doesn't come over you have a boner. And he wants to help you out with your sex fantasies.
Someone needs to jump someone okay.
I love this fill so much.
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My favourite part? Arthur sliding from the coach with great dignity
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Oh man, this fill cracks me up, makes me flush, and is overall the grandest entertainment a girl could ask for *__*
You're fantastic, author anon! Your updates make me giggle and clap my hands like a little girl every time, hahaha
Reply
Poor Arthur! If it keeps on like this, one day he will snap and just jump on an unsuspecting Alfred! However, I have a feeling that Alfred might not be against that idea... Come on! I know Alfred is a nice guy and willing to help, but helping your employer finish his gay porn story by pulling him in your lap and acting out an after-sex scene (complete with soft touches and teasing almost kisses) is waaaaay too much. XD
I'll definitely be stalking this story! I wonder how many more times Arthur's brain will shut off. XD
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