Sidecar [2a/3]
anonymous
November 2 2011, 00:25:50 UTC
Arthur had waited for some time after his mouthy little golden child had left his hotel room. He hesitated to go after him at all, but in the end he wanted to try and get things settled tonight so that he didn't have to go home right away tomorrow. He'd simply thought it would be too awkward to stay at Alfred's house with Toris there; that was the whole reason he'd opted to stay in a hotel anyway! And from the looks of how their brief meeting in the hotel room had gone, Arthur had been right about that. He would have been embarrassed to have Toris see what a child his former colony could be-even if he was quite sure the Lithuanian nation knew that by now. Grabbing his coat, he hailed a taxi and made his way to Alfred's house. About half an hour later he arrived, paying the man and stepping out. Was it always so warm and humid here? He dabbed at his forehead with the sleeve of his coat as he came up to the door, knocking firmly.
Naturally, it was Toris who answered it; however, the Lithuanian seemed tense. He knew that Arthur would naturally have come looking for Alfred, but the Brit’s former charge was not in any state to be seen at the moment. Reluctantly, Toris moved aside, making a helpless guesture into the kitchen. "H... He's in there, Mr. Kirkland," Toris said as he took Arthur's coat.
"I'll handle this then. Don't mind us if we get a little loud, he was pretty upset when he left. Be a dear, and just let me have a good talk with him?" Arthur 'suggested', and Toris nodded his head as he hung up the coat. He did as he was asked, too, though not without some guilt. He didn't want Alfred to get in trouble, but with the way he'd been drinking, it was a given. So he untied his apron and headed for the hallway as Arthur headed into the kitchen.
Alfred had already mixed himself a second drink by the time Arthur arrived. He hadn't bothered to put away the bottle of cognac on the counter, either-Toris was the only other person in the house at the moment, and he hadn't commented on Alfred's drinking, which was just as well. All the young man's pent-up frustration may well have been unleashed if the Lithuanian had said anything about it. In fact, Toris had probably noticed Alfred’s surly mood just from the way his footsteps had sounded when he entered, and knew better than to try to stop him from doing anything when he was like this, rare as the mood was. 'Stroppy,' Arthur might call him; but he really didn't want to think about the Brit right now. In any case, the American was now slouched over, elbows on the table, absently stirring his second drink and glaring at the ice cubes clinking around in the glass as he did so. He cursed loudly to himself when he heard Arthur's voice answering Toris's at the door, jerking himself up out of the chair to hide the cognac bottle, his half-finished drink still left on the table. As the older nation's footsteps approached the kitchen, the clanking of bottles could be heard as Alfred tried maladroitly to return the beverage to its place in his cupboard before Arthur entered the room, spinning and slamming the door shut with his body (only upsetting the glass bottles inside further) as the other walked in. "Wha-what're you doing here?" he sputtered with a bit of a slur.
One thick eyebrow rose when Arthur heard the commotion, and by the time he stepped into the kitchen, Alfred was slamming something shut. Even more interesting than the noise this created was that slur in his former colony’s voice. A smile slowly grew across Arthur’s face, and he stepped over to the American with slow and steady steps. "What's this now? Hiding something from me?"
"Nothin'. Not hiding anything," Alfred protested as Arthur moved slowly but relentlessly closer.
But Arthur didn’t seem to take that for an answer. When he was close enough, he reached out quickly, seizing Alfred's chin and leaning in to sniff. "...Cognac?"
Sidecar [2b/3]
anonymous
November 2 2011, 00:27:07 UTC
Alfred’s eyes widened almost helplessly when the other grabbed his chin and leaned in to sniff his breath, which was coming a bit heavily after his rush to put the bottle away. He was startled, though not surprised, that not only could the older nation smell the alcohol on his breath, he could identify exactly what it was from scent alone, even though Alfred hadn't been drinking it straight. For a split second, he considered denying the accusation, but even in his inebriated state Alfred knew that was completely useless, if not counterproductive. The best he could do was to try to defend his actions. "I-Look, 's only illegal to make it or bring it here. Or sell it. Volstead Act doesn't actually say it's against the law to DRINK it.” He wasn't doing anything wrong; he simply hadn’t wanted to think about the mess with Arthur anymore. How productive that solution had been. He closed his own eyes tightly so as not to have to meet Arthur’s-his former guardian was giving him that look that always meant Alfred was about to hear it.
And hear it, he would. Arthur stood up straight-ever frustrated that his once-charge had grown to be taller than he was-setting one hand on his hip this time. "And I suppose you pulled that bottle out of your ass, Alfred?” Arthur frowned. "It came from somewhere didn't it? I don't believe you've had that bottle in there since before this silly ban, so that means at one time or another you broke your own law," Arthur said with resolution. He knew Alfred too well. As much as the young man desperately wanted to be good, just as his children were bound to be rebellious, so was he sometimes. Good intentions or not, Arthur wouldn’t have it. "You said you couldn't watch me drink, Alfred, not that you were only upset about me bringing it here! You got your knickers in a bloody twist over it being bad for my health, didn't you? You're an insufferable lout with a big mouth who likes to preach but not to practice!"
Alfred made a face at essentially being labeled a hypocrite, but... well crap. He had said all that, hadn't he? Even though his initial anger had mostly been over the fact that Arthur had brought the gin into his house, Alfred had gotten carried away, as he was wont to do, and brought up more than he'd intended to-though it hadn't helped that the Brit had intentionally riled him up by drinking it-and now it was biting him in the ass. And when Alfred closed his eyes Arthur reached out, grasping that chin with one hand and forcing him to meet his eyes as soon as the other would open them. Shorter or not, Arthur could sure stare someone down.
Of course, the American nation began to protest the accusations immediately, opening his eyes to shoot a glare at Arthur when his chin was grasped again. "I did have it before the ban. Everything in this cabinet is from before the ban!" He didn't even realize he'd given himself away until he noticed the slight change in expression in the Brit’s face. Arthur let go of Alfred’s chin then, attempting to move the American aside to see what was inside the cabinet behind him, though at first the younger nation tried to block him-he couldn’t have his former caregiver discovering the contents of that cabinet! However, then came that look again-that look had to be cheating, Alfred decided-and that disapproval, and it was even harder to fight in his current state than usual. Giving himself the excuse that he'd already spilled the beans anyway, he allowed Arthur to push him to the side enough to free the cabinet door, hanging his head with the shame of what he knew the other nation would find there.
Sidecar [2c/3]
anonymous
November 2 2011, 00:28:19 UTC
Push Alfred aside he did, but not hard enough to outright topple the tipsy American, who at the moment had his eyes quite fixated on the floorboards rather than meet Arthur’s own eyes. With the door now freed, Arthur opened the cabinet, eyes widening a little when he saw more than he had expected. One, two bottles maybe, certainly not something between ten and fifteen, with varying amounts of alcohol having already been drunk from each. Torn between anger and disappointment, he now turned to Alfred. "You are aware that your policemen are breaking and dumping any liquor that they find? None of it is acceptable as far as they're concerned, obtained before the ban or not!"
Alfred nodded, with the miserable afterthought that even some of his citizens had been smashing whatever bottles they found. He didn't mention it aloud, of course; bringing up the vehement activities of certain temperance unions would only serve to make the younger nation look worse than he already did in the eyes of his former colonizer.
With a sigh, Arthur let go of the cabinet doors, crossing his arms with a thoughtful look. "I wonder what your boss would think if I told him about your stash? Do you think he would be disappointed that his own figure head was a closet lush?"
A look of horror spread across the American's features at Arthur's threat. "You can't do that! God, you wouldn't... Please don't tell anyone, Arthur! I'm sorry for what I said earlier, really I am! You can drink whatever you want here and I'll shut up from now on, I swear, just don't tell my boss about this..." Alfred seemed close to panic now, the drinks he'd just had not seeming to help.
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. Arthur's expression didn't show it right away, staying only disapproving. Arthur had to admit, he was quite tempted by that offer; some of those were very good bottles of liquor! Good years, good blends... But no, he couldn't give in here-sadly for him! "Tempting me? Oh, how far you have gone tonight, Alfred. A lecture, giving in, and then bribery? Your boss would have a field day!” He scoffed, “Besides, while there are times and places to get drunk, a house which has banned liquor is not one of them! You think I want to spend the night in lock-up? Or was that your plan?" Giving a heavy sigh as if not tattling on Alfred was such a chore for him, he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, lifting his hands. "But it's the right thing to do, isn't it? Removing temptation? Or would that finally drive you to sneak into one of those speakeasies underground, or to beg your brother for some good bottles of booze?" he asked with faux concern.
The American began to stutter now, wondering why he'd even bothered trying to bribe Arthur in the first place. "N-no, I didn't mean that..." He only slouched further down against the cabinet as Arthur continued, every accusation he brought hitting home. While Alfred’s pride wouldn't allow him to go to Matthew for booze, truth be told, on particularly trying nights, he was far from a stranger at the speakeasies. He'd felt guilty enough from the look on Toris's face when he would come home drunk, but this lecture was just killing him.
Arthur didn’t believe those protests for a minute-he knew Alfred, and he knew he would do those things, too! And he didn't actually want his dear boy to get into any real trouble. He was still quite frustrated with having been lectured earlier, especially given the young nation’s current state. "I suppose..." he moved over to the kitchen drawers then, looking through them a bit, "I could handle this myself... Teach you a lesson." He found what he was looking for, closing the drawer and turning around. It was a long and sturdy wooden spoon, which he traced with his fingertips before giving the roundish but mostly flat spoon-end a few taps against his palm.
Sidecar [2d/3]
anonymous
November 2 2011, 00:29:35 UTC
"What're you doing?" Alfred asked apprehensively while Arthur was moving to look through his kitchen drawers, though it didn't dawn on him exactly what the other nation was up to until he saw the wooden spoon in those hands. He knew instantly what it was for, what it had always been for-he couldn't actually remember Arthur ever using one for cooking. "I... I'm not a kid anymore!" he protested weakly.
Arthur was not at all moved by such protests. Still tapping the end of the spoon against his palm, he said simply, "It's the spoon, my belt, or your boss's loss of faith in his own nation, boy." It was clear that he left no room for argument.
Alfred was now pressing himself back against the cabinet as hard as he could, as if he could somehow move further away from Arthur. Even so, he knew, as much as he didn't like the alternatives, that he couldn't pick the third choice. After several pregnant seconds of silence, he muttered, "Spoon, then." At the moment, it sounded more merciful than the harsh leather bite of the belt.
"Very well. The living room then. Don't worry, I told Toris to go on to bed," he said before Alfred, who had already opened his mouth as if to do so, could even protest. "Besides, look at the house he came from. Do you think he's any stranger to this? Hell, I would bet he wished he had the guts to give you a good thrashing more than once since he's been here! Treating such an elder like a house maid, honestly," he lectured as he walked in to the living room, expecting Alfred to follow. "I bet you still leave dishes and clothing all over the house, try to avoid the food that's good for you in favor of junk, and oh, I can bet he's thought of it when you're drunk!"
With a heavy sigh, Alfred followed Arthur into the living room; in his current mindset, it was as if he couldn't conceive of trying to disobey and stay behind. And his former guardian continued to lecture even as they changed locations, his words successfully making Alfred feel lower and lower. "Hah, even if Toris is older, he's not a grumpy ol' man like you." In his tipsiness, Al didn't realize he'd voiced that thought aloud in response to the suggestion that Toris had thought of spanking him. "He's nice. He likes takin' care a' me." At this point they had reached their destination in the living room.
The Brit sat down on the couch, patting his lap. "Drop your trousers and hop over."
Alfred was too far gone to argue anymore. "Fine, fine..." Reluctantly, he lowered his pants, and even more reluctantly leaned down and laid himself across the older nation's lap. He couldn't remember being in this position in a long time-not that he'd never been punished physically since he was a child, but after a certain age he'd always been told to bend over the arm of a couch or some such position, rather than across Arthur's lap as he had when he was much younger. But even though he was bigger now, he was still quite nervous. And why not? If his memory served him at all in his tipsy state, he had every reason to be.
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And we’ve nearly gotten to the point of the prompt! XD Again, I welcome concrit if there’s anything you’ve noticed that I could improve for a cleaned-up version.
Anon 1: It’s my favorite period of American history as well, which I think shows through in the fill, because I am having so much fun writing it. And I think I recognize your comment style from another longass fill of mine but I won’t guess because I don’t want to be wrong. XD Do you read a lot of spanking fics? Anon 2: I’m glad you appreciate the historical aspects-this is my favorite time period in American history, it’s just fascinating, so I was really excited to be able to use my knowledge of the laws and culture of the period in this fill. I’ve had tons of fun writing it so far, honestly. Anon 3: And here it is! Hope you enjoyed. Anon 4: Wow, I’m flattered that you’d enjoy my fill so far, even if it isn’t a pairing you are very fond of. Not to worry, it won’t get very pairing-centric.
Re: Sidecar [2d/3]
anonymous
November 2 2011, 05:48:21 UTC
Anon1 and of course yours truly Bunk!anon, I really have no excuse why I didn't recognize your writing style earlier when I clearly remember you wrote about taking a prompt for this pairing.
I already wrote I love the setting so forgive me if I go directly to the kink part but wooden spoon!! Such an underappreciated tool in fanfics when it's fairly common in rl (at least in my country). As always, it's incredible how much thought and time you invest into the story itself so that it never ends up as a mindless PWP and the situation is once again very believable.
I think you know by now how much I can't wait for the next update, so just keep being awesome, author!not-really-anon.
(also bravo to me, I am obvious even in my comments. Should I even bother with the anonymity)
Re: Sidecar [2d/3]
anonymous
November 2 2011, 19:05:14 UTC
NewAnon here who likes spanking fics too. I think I might have read that other fill you mentioned, but I don't want to say, because I'm not certain.
Oh! Oh this! This is too good. I'm loving it. Of course, Arthur would be able to recognize a liquor by its smell--that was great. I loved reading Alfred's thoughts about Arthur's ultimatums. I like the way you've built things up so far, and look forward to reading the actual prompt portion of the fill.
Naturally, it was Toris who answered it; however, the Lithuanian seemed tense. He knew that Arthur would naturally have come looking for Alfred, but the Brit’s former charge was not in any state to be seen at the moment. Reluctantly, Toris moved aside, making a helpless guesture into the kitchen. "H... He's in there, Mr. Kirkland," Toris said as he took Arthur's coat.
"I'll handle this then. Don't mind us if we get a little loud, he was pretty upset when he left. Be a dear, and just let me have a good talk with him?" Arthur 'suggested', and Toris nodded his head as he hung up the coat. He did as he was asked, too, though not without some guilt. He didn't want Alfred to get in trouble, but with the way he'd been drinking, it was a given. So he untied his apron and headed for the hallway as Arthur headed into the kitchen.
Alfred had already mixed himself a second drink by the time Arthur arrived. He hadn't bothered to put away the bottle of cognac on the counter, either-Toris was the only other person in the house at the moment, and he hadn't commented on Alfred's drinking, which was just as well. All the young man's pent-up frustration may well have been unleashed if the Lithuanian had said anything about it. In fact, Toris had probably noticed Alfred’s surly mood just from the way his footsteps had sounded when he entered, and knew better than to try to stop him from doing anything when he was like this, rare as the mood was. 'Stroppy,' Arthur might call him; but he really didn't want to think about the Brit right now. In any case, the American was now slouched over, elbows on the table, absently stirring his second drink and glaring at the ice cubes clinking around in the glass as he did so. He cursed loudly to himself when he heard Arthur's voice answering Toris's at the door, jerking himself up out of the chair to hide the cognac bottle, his half-finished drink still left on the table. As the older nation's footsteps approached the kitchen, the clanking of bottles could be heard as Alfred tried maladroitly to return the beverage to its place in his cupboard before Arthur entered the room, spinning and slamming the door shut with his body (only upsetting the glass bottles inside further) as the other walked in. "Wha-what're you doing here?" he sputtered with a bit of a slur.
One thick eyebrow rose when Arthur heard the commotion, and by the time he stepped into the kitchen, Alfred was slamming something shut. Even more interesting than the noise this created was that slur in his former colony’s voice. A smile slowly grew across Arthur’s face, and he stepped over to the American with slow and steady steps. "What's this now? Hiding something from me?"
"Nothin'. Not hiding anything," Alfred protested as Arthur moved slowly but relentlessly closer.
But Arthur didn’t seem to take that for an answer. When he was close enough, he reached out quickly, seizing Alfred's chin and leaning in to sniff. "...Cognac?"
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And hear it, he would. Arthur stood up straight-ever frustrated that his once-charge had grown to be taller than he was-setting one hand on his hip this time. "And I suppose you pulled that bottle out of your ass, Alfred?” Arthur frowned. "It came from somewhere didn't it? I don't believe you've had that bottle in there since before this silly ban, so that means at one time or another you broke your own law," Arthur said with resolution. He knew Alfred too well. As much as the young man desperately wanted to be good, just as his children were bound to be rebellious, so was he sometimes. Good intentions or not, Arthur wouldn’t have it. "You said you couldn't watch me drink, Alfred, not that you were only upset about me bringing it here! You got your knickers in a bloody twist over it being bad for my health, didn't you? You're an insufferable lout with a big mouth who likes to preach but not to practice!"
Alfred made a face at essentially being labeled a hypocrite, but... well crap. He had said all that, hadn't he? Even though his initial anger had mostly been over the fact that Arthur had brought the gin into his house, Alfred had gotten carried away, as he was wont to do, and brought up more than he'd intended to-though it hadn't helped that the Brit had intentionally riled him up by drinking it-and now it was biting him in the ass. And when Alfred closed his eyes Arthur reached out, grasping that chin with one hand and forcing him to meet his eyes as soon as the other would open them. Shorter or not, Arthur could sure stare someone down.
Of course, the American nation began to protest the accusations immediately, opening his eyes to shoot a glare at Arthur when his chin was grasped again. "I did have it before the ban. Everything in this cabinet is from before the ban!" He didn't even realize he'd given himself away until he noticed the slight change in expression in the Brit’s face. Arthur let go of Alfred’s chin then, attempting to move the American aside to see what was inside the cabinet behind him, though at first the younger nation tried to block him-he couldn’t have his former caregiver discovering the contents of that cabinet! However, then came that look again-that look had to be cheating, Alfred decided-and that disapproval, and it was even harder to fight in his current state than usual. Giving himself the excuse that he'd already spilled the beans anyway, he allowed Arthur to push him to the side enough to free the cabinet door, hanging his head with the shame of what he knew the other nation would find there.
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Alfred nodded, with the miserable afterthought that even some of his citizens had been smashing whatever bottles they found. He didn't mention it aloud, of course; bringing up the vehement activities of certain temperance unions would only serve to make the younger nation look worse than he already did in the eyes of his former colonizer.
With a sigh, Arthur let go of the cabinet doors, crossing his arms with a thoughtful look. "I wonder what your boss would think if I told him about your stash? Do you think he would be disappointed that his own figure head was a closet lush?"
A look of horror spread across the American's features at Arthur's threat. "You can't do that! God, you wouldn't... Please don't tell anyone, Arthur! I'm sorry for what I said earlier, really I am! You can drink whatever you want here and I'll shut up from now on, I swear, just don't tell my boss about this..." Alfred seemed close to panic now, the drinks he'd just had not seeming to help.
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. Arthur's expression didn't show it right away, staying only disapproving. Arthur had to admit, he was quite tempted by that offer; some of those were very good bottles of liquor! Good years, good blends... But no, he couldn't give in here-sadly for him! "Tempting me? Oh, how far you have gone tonight, Alfred. A lecture, giving in, and then bribery? Your boss would have a field day!” He scoffed, “Besides, while there are times and places to get drunk, a house which has banned liquor is not one of them! You think I want to spend the night in lock-up? Or was that your plan?" Giving a heavy sigh as if not tattling on Alfred was such a chore for him, he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, lifting his hands. "But it's the right thing to do, isn't it? Removing temptation? Or would that finally drive you to sneak into one of those speakeasies underground, or to beg your brother for some good bottles of booze?" he asked with faux concern.
The American began to stutter now, wondering why he'd even bothered trying to bribe Arthur in the first place. "N-no, I didn't mean that..." He only slouched further down against the cabinet as Arthur continued, every accusation he brought hitting home. While Alfred’s pride wouldn't allow him to go to Matthew for booze, truth be told, on particularly trying nights, he was far from a stranger at the speakeasies. He'd felt guilty enough from the look on Toris's face when he would come home drunk, but this lecture was just killing him.
Arthur didn’t believe those protests for a minute-he knew Alfred, and he knew he would do those things, too! And he didn't actually want his dear boy to get into any real trouble. He was still quite frustrated with having been lectured earlier, especially given the young nation’s current state. "I suppose..." he moved over to the kitchen drawers then, looking through them a bit, "I could handle this myself... Teach you a lesson." He found what he was looking for, closing the drawer and turning around. It was a long and sturdy wooden spoon, which he traced with his fingertips before giving the roundish but mostly flat spoon-end a few taps against his palm.
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Arthur was not at all moved by such protests. Still tapping the end of the spoon against his palm, he said simply, "It's the spoon, my belt, or your boss's loss of faith in his own nation, boy." It was clear that he left no room for argument.
Alfred was now pressing himself back against the cabinet as hard as he could, as if he could somehow move further away from Arthur. Even so, he knew, as much as he didn't like the alternatives, that he couldn't pick the third choice. After several pregnant seconds of silence, he muttered, "Spoon, then." At the moment, it sounded more merciful than the harsh leather bite of the belt.
"Very well. The living room then. Don't worry, I told Toris to go on to bed," he said before Alfred, who had already opened his mouth as if to do so, could even protest. "Besides, look at the house he came from. Do you think he's any stranger to this? Hell, I would bet he wished he had the guts to give you a good thrashing more than once since he's been here! Treating such an elder like a house maid, honestly," he lectured as he walked in to the living room, expecting Alfred to follow. "I bet you still leave dishes and clothing all over the house, try to avoid the food that's good for you in favor of junk, and oh, I can bet he's thought of it when you're drunk!"
With a heavy sigh, Alfred followed Arthur into the living room; in his current mindset, it was as if he couldn't conceive of trying to disobey and stay behind. And his former guardian continued to lecture even as they changed locations, his words successfully making Alfred feel lower and lower. "Hah, even if Toris is older, he's not a grumpy ol' man like you." In his tipsiness, Al didn't realize he'd voiced that thought aloud in response to the suggestion that Toris had thought of spanking him. "He's nice. He likes takin' care a' me." At this point they had reached their destination in the living room.
The Brit sat down on the couch, patting his lap. "Drop your trousers and hop over."
Alfred was too far gone to argue anymore. "Fine, fine..." Reluctantly, he lowered his pants, and even more reluctantly leaned down and laid himself across the older nation's lap. He couldn't remember being in this position in a long time-not that he'd never been punished physically since he was a child, but after a certain age he'd always been told to bend over the arm of a couch or some such position, rather than across Arthur's lap as he had when he was much younger. But even though he was bigger now, he was still quite nervous. And why not? If his memory served him at all in his tipsy state, he had every reason to be.
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And we’ve nearly gotten to the point of the prompt! XD Again, I welcome concrit if there’s anything you’ve noticed that I could improve for a cleaned-up version.
Anon 1: It’s my favorite period of American history as well, which I think shows through in the fill, because I am having so much fun writing it. And I think I recognize your comment style from another longass fill of mine but I won’t guess because I don’t want to be wrong. XD Do you read a lot of spanking fics?
Anon 2: I’m glad you appreciate the historical aspects-this is my favorite time period in American history, it’s just fascinating, so I was really excited to be able to use my knowledge of the laws and culture of the period in this fill. I’ve had tons of fun writing it so far, honestly.
Anon 3: And here it is! Hope you enjoyed.
Anon 4: Wow, I’m flattered that you’d enjoy my fill so far, even if it isn’t a pairing you are very fond of. Not to worry, it won’t get very pairing-centric.
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I already wrote I love the setting so forgive me if I go directly to the kink part but wooden spoon!! Such an underappreciated tool in fanfics when it's fairly common in rl (at least in my country). As always, it's incredible how much thought and time you invest into the story itself so that it never ends up as a mindless PWP and the situation is once again very believable.
I think you know by now how much I can't wait for the next update, so just keep being awesome, author!not-really-anon.
(also bravo to me, I am obvious even in my comments. Should I even bother with the anonymity)
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Oh! Oh this! This is too good. I'm loving it. Of course, Arthur would be able to recognize a liquor by its smell--that was great. I loved reading Alfred's thoughts about Arthur's ultimatums. I like the way you've built things up so far, and look forward to reading the actual prompt portion of the fill.
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