You Know My Name Part 9
anonymous
November 10 2010, 20:48:43 UTC
At least, he had never smoked in Arthur's presence, and he had never smelled like cigarettes before. Arthur tried to remember what had happened after...after their movements had stilled and they lay trembling with lust sated and meaningless words dying on their lips. He tensed as a shiver went through the languid form beside him.
Leaving their previous target, who was beginning to stir, Arthur's eyes danced about the fairly plain walls of the room. It was where Alfred lived, where he slept, where he stayed when he wasn't following Arthur like the proverbial lost puppy he sometimes seemed to be. Arthur wondered why it did not better match his personality.
The ceiling, walls, and floor were the same unpainted, unbroken khaki. There was a smudge under the window that had probably been there since the building's construction, and the curtains were faded and torn. There were no sports posters, no pin-ups of the scantily-clad models one might expect to see in the bedroom of a college-age fellow. Around the bed, there were piles of clothes and an open book or two, but everywhere else, it was neat and tidy, not a hair out of place. Even the couch, upon which they had cuddled, eaten, and briefly wrestled the night before, seemed oddly unruffled.
There was not a pack of cigarettes in sight.
Alfred's glasses, on the nightstand next to the lamp that didn't work, caught the sunlight and made Arthur bury his head in Alfred's shoulder to avoid going blind.
The air tingled with something a little heart-stopping, before the tension broke around lips smiling against his hair.
"Hi," Alfred murmured, voice heavy with sleep and satisfaction. Arthur shuddered with anxious pleasure, and hesitantly looked up into Alfred's gentle face. The blue eyes were bleary and unfocused, pupils wide, but they looked straight at him.
Of course, a southern gent is quite charming, refined, and deviously clever you know. ;D Has been reading too many Civil War fics of Confederate!America..
Re: You Know My Name Part 9
anonymous
November 11 2010, 04:05:36 UTC
DAMMIT THIS ANON WAS LOOKING FOR SMUT TOO
Your writing is tender, writer!anon. Please never abandon this!! It's so good, especially since I'm currently taking Psychology class and we're learning about serial killers.
Re: You Know My Name Part 9
anonymous
November 11 2010, 23:52:57 UTC
Authornon has never thought of her writing as tender. -blush'd- Ahh, that is so cool. I wonder if there's a serial killer section in my psychology book...?
Re: You Know My Name Part 9
anonymous
November 11 2010, 14:12:59 UTC
NNNGGGG honestly this is my favorite fill. You've really nailed the atmosphere and I'm really wondering how the cigarettes fit in. Thanks for updating so fast and frequently!!
You Know My Name Part 10
anonymous
November 25 2010, 06:54:15 UTC
Alfred proved to be a good, if not messy, cook. At first, Arthur had suggested going out, but the taller man swore up and down that a sleepy morning like theirs could only be battled with strong coffee and homemade pancakes.
Arthur didn't regret playing along. He didn't really feel up to getting dressed, and sitting at the table, breathing the heady scents of exotic coffee, a well-used kitchen, and Alfred was much more enjoyable, at least from where he stood, than fighting his way into a crowded cafe. Weary from the late night, he was nonetheless content in the dry warmth of Alfred's little flat.
The bright young man in question practically danced about the cozy room as his guest sat watching. He wore very little. His glasses, still crooked, sat unusually low on his handsome face. There was a locket on a silver chain around his neck that might have escaped notice had it not been dangling before Arthur's eyes for a good twenty minutes before. A pair of polka-dot pajama pants clung to his slender hips, cascading down his long legs and pooling on the floor so that only his toes could be seen.
Not that Arthur was looking at his feet; he was rather distracted by the broad shoulders, powerful back, and distinct curve at the base of the spine that he had not been able to admire with Alfred's bright heat and sweet smile trumping coherence.
He blushed as Alfred stirred the pancake batter with strong, steady hand, reminding the smaller man of the strength that lay hidden beneath the gentleness; how Alfred's strength had left him bleeding, bruised, and begging for more.
"Arth, are you absolutely sure? Things won't be the same if..."
"I--yes...please, Alfred...!"
"Arthur." An amused purr pulled him from his embarassing memory. Alfred was looking at him quizically, a slight smirk on his roughened lips. "What are you lookin' at?"
"N-nothing!" Apparently, he had been staring at his companion's crotch. "I was simply lost in thought, you see."
"Lost in thought about what, I wonder," Alfred said silkily, still smiling, still looking at Arthur as thought he'd rather have him than bacon for breakfast. Arthur averted his gaze, simultaneously ashamed and mortified by the idea.
Alfred was kissing his head when he started to fiddle with the buttons on the oversized shirt he wore. It belonged to Alfred, though it had probably never seen use before Arthur. It was pure white, soft and smooth. By the end of the morning, it would be covered in bacon grease and maple syrup.
You Know My Name Part 11
anonymous
November 25 2010, 07:34:58 UTC
"It's a long weekend," Arthur informed Alfred, as they sat with their shoulders touching and tried to find something vaguely interesting on television.
"Good." Alfred had still not gotten dressed.
"Do you always do this? When you aren't stalking me, I mean."
"I do not stalk you," Alfred said, a little dejected. "I like you. I like to hang out with you." His eyes glinted, though his expression was innocent, and he sat up more. "You like being with me, right?"
"Of course I do," Arthur spluttered, an unmerited trickle of fear touching him.
Alfred relaxed, pressed his nose into Arthur's cheek. "I'm glad. Thanks for coming over and staying." Even though the lips against his skin were gentle and smiling, Arthur felt a sudden sadness.
"Do you want to rent a movie?" he asked in a whisper. Alfred was only too happy to hunt down enough clothing to obtain more cuddling material.
(Sorry. I wrote this one half-asleep and multitasking. As it turns out, there are a whole two pages in my psychology book about a serial killer (just one.) I suppose I can manage, but it would still have been fun. Anyway, I read all of the comments repeatedly. Thanks so much, everyone. I'd reply to each, but the comment count...)
Re: You Know My Name Part 11
anonymous
November 27 2010, 01:45:23 UTC
I agree with OP, even though Alfred seems to be acting like the perfect boyfriend all the little details that Arthur notices hint at something a lot darker. I'm loving this fill, please don't stop!!
Re: You Know My Name Part 11
anonymous
August 13 2011, 06:26:37 UTC
This is so wonderful! I'm really enjoying the suspense and I love how softly and sweetly menacing everything is and yet you still enjoy their fluffy moments... XD can't wait to read more~
Leaving their previous target, who was beginning to stir, Arthur's eyes danced about the fairly plain walls of the room. It was where Alfred lived, where he slept, where he stayed when he wasn't following Arthur like the proverbial lost puppy he sometimes seemed to be. Arthur wondered why it did not better match his personality.
The ceiling, walls, and floor were the same unpainted, unbroken khaki. There was a smudge under the window that had probably been there since the building's construction, and the curtains were faded and torn. There were no sports posters, no pin-ups of the scantily-clad models one might expect to see in the bedroom of a college-age fellow. Around the bed, there were piles of clothes and an open book or two, but everywhere else, it was neat and tidy, not a hair out of place. Even the couch, upon which they had cuddled, eaten, and briefly wrestled the night before, seemed oddly unruffled.
There was not a pack of cigarettes in sight.
Alfred's glasses, on the nightstand next to the lamp that didn't work, caught the sunlight and made Arthur bury his head in Alfred's shoulder to avoid going blind.
The air tingled with something a little heart-stopping, before the tension broke around lips smiling against his hair.
"Hi," Alfred murmured, voice heavy with sleep and satisfaction. Arthur shuddered with anxious pleasure, and hesitantly looked up into Alfred's gentle face. The blue eyes were bleary and unfocused, pupils wide, but they looked straight at him.
"Good morning."
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BUT WOW! I'M JEALOUS OF ARTHUR, the way you had him described Alfred's seriously handsome features, boy I wanted to melllttt..
I wonder though when you mentioned his breath smelling like cigarettes, I imagined his serial killer side to be a southern gent. But that's just me :D
Another amazing piece Author!Anon~ I'm looking forward to the next update!
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And, fffff southern gent serial killer side? Hottest thing ever why didn't I think of that.
I'll try not to leave you waiting too long!
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Of course, a southern gent is quite charming, refined, and deviously clever you know. ;D
Has been reading too many Civil War fics of Confederate!America..
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Your writing is tender, writer!anon. Please never abandon this!! It's so good, especially since I'm currently taking Psychology class and we're learning about serial killers.
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Ahh, that is so cool. I wonder if there's a serial killer section in my psychology book...?
(Captcha: THE expleude)
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...was my first reaction when I realized that there wasn't anything more to this fill. It's so beautiful ;A; Please continue soon!!
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Arthur didn't regret playing along. He didn't really feel up to getting dressed, and sitting at the table, breathing the heady scents of exotic coffee, a well-used kitchen, and Alfred was much more enjoyable, at least from where he stood, than fighting his way into a crowded cafe. Weary from the late night, he was nonetheless content in the dry warmth of Alfred's little flat.
The bright young man in question practically danced about the cozy room as his guest sat watching. He wore very little. His glasses, still crooked, sat unusually low on his handsome face. There was a locket on a silver chain around his neck that might have escaped notice had it not been dangling before Arthur's eyes for a good twenty minutes before. A pair of polka-dot pajama pants clung to his slender hips, cascading down his long legs and pooling on the floor so that only his toes could be seen.
Not that Arthur was looking at his feet; he was rather distracted by the broad shoulders, powerful back, and distinct curve at the base of the spine that he had not been able to admire with Alfred's bright heat and sweet smile trumping coherence.
He blushed as Alfred stirred the pancake batter with strong, steady hand, reminding the smaller man of the strength that lay hidden beneath the gentleness; how Alfred's strength had left him bleeding, bruised, and begging for more.
"Arth, are you absolutely sure? Things won't be the same if..."
"I--yes...please, Alfred...!"
"Arthur." An amused purr pulled him from his embarassing memory. Alfred was looking at him quizically, a slight smirk on his roughened lips. "What are you lookin' at?"
"N-nothing!" Apparently, he had been staring at his companion's crotch. "I was simply lost in thought, you see."
"Lost in thought about what, I wonder," Alfred said silkily, still smiling, still looking at Arthur as thought he'd rather have him than bacon for breakfast. Arthur averted his gaze, simultaneously ashamed and mortified by the idea.
Alfred was kissing his head when he started to fiddle with the buttons on the oversized shirt he wore. It belonged to Alfred, though it had probably never seen use before Arthur. It was pure white, soft and smooth. By the end of the morning, it would be covered in bacon grease and maple syrup.
Reply
"Good." Alfred had still not gotten dressed.
"Do you always do this? When you aren't stalking me, I mean."
"I do not stalk you," Alfred said, a little dejected. "I like you. I like to hang out with you." His eyes glinted, though his expression was innocent, and he sat up more. "You like being with me, right?"
"Of course I do," Arthur spluttered, an unmerited trickle of fear touching him.
Alfred relaxed, pressed his nose into Arthur's cheek. "I'm glad. Thanks for coming over and staying." Even though the lips against his skin were gentle and smiling, Arthur felt a sudden sadness.
"Do you want to rent a movie?" he asked in a whisper. Alfred was only too happy to hunt down enough clothing to obtain more cuddling material.
(Sorry. I wrote this one half-asleep and multitasking. As it turns out, there are a whole two pages in my psychology book about a serial killer (just one.) I suppose I can manage, but it would still have been fun. Anyway, I read all of the comments repeatedly. Thanks so much, everyone. I'd reply to each, but the comment count...)
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Another great update Author!Anon, even though its short, I'm starting to feel suspicious of Al so much..
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