A pirate's life for me [2/3]
anonymous
June 10 2009, 10:48:28 UTC
Alfred realised by the time that he got back to his house that he had absolutely no idea what to do with the hat. There was no way he could put it on display where Arthur could see it at any time and when would he ever get the chance to wear it? In other words, he had yet again picked up another completely useless item.
Well, that was not important, was it? Its absolute worthlessness was disregarded for the fact that it really was an awesome hat. Probably as awesome as Prussia. Anyway, pirates were cool, weren’t they? Pirates were sexy.
“Imagining that old-fashioned guy as a pirate is...” Alfred laughed at himself, putting the hate carefully on his bed. There was no way he could seriously imagine the Arthur he knew as a pirate, roaming the seven seas in search of adventure and treasure.
No, there was no way Alfred could imagine Arthur holding fierce battles on the deck, or running through the streets at midnight with stolen gold, laughing unashamedly, green eyes full of delight, breathless and alive. He could not imagine the drunken brawls, the heedless, hedonistic sex with men and women alike, golden revelry and mountains of riches plundered one night and squandered on booze and food the next. He certainly could not imagine Arthur at the helm, sunlight shining, the wind through his hair, defiant and cocky and - oh fuck.
Alfred looked at the hard bulge in his pants then at the hat sitting on the bed besides him. “A - Arthur!” he gasped, hands fumbling to unzip his pants and free his painful erection.
“So ye be here.”
Alfred froze for a good ten seconds.
“A - Arthur!” he jumped, scrambling for the covers, for anything that would cover his very obvious erection. Throwing a pillow over his lap, he tried to smile casually. “W - what’s up?” Damn his voice for shaking!
Arthur eyes the pillow a little too long for comfort. Alfred gulped.
The guilty hat had fallen from the bed in his haste to grab a pillow. It rolled along the floor towards Arthur’s foot as if it had a mind of its own and was returning to its master. That was a damn creepy thought, Alfred realised.
Stooping down, Arthur picked up the hat and put it on. Even in a sweater-vest, the hat suited him and Alfred had to suppress the pleasant trill that ran up his spine as the Arthur in his imagination was slowly being realised right in front of his eyes.
Well, that was not important, was it? Its absolute worthlessness was disregarded for the fact that it really was an awesome hat. Probably as awesome as Prussia. Anyway, pirates were cool, weren’t they? Pirates were sexy.
“Imagining that old-fashioned guy as a pirate is...” Alfred laughed at himself, putting the hate carefully on his bed. There was no way he could seriously imagine the Arthur he knew as a pirate, roaming the seven seas in search of adventure and treasure.
No, there was no way Alfred could imagine Arthur holding fierce battles on the deck, or running through the streets at midnight with stolen gold, laughing unashamedly, green eyes full of delight, breathless and alive. He could not imagine the drunken brawls, the heedless, hedonistic sex with men and women alike, golden revelry and mountains of riches plundered one night and squandered on booze and food the next. He certainly could not imagine Arthur at the helm, sunlight shining, the wind through his hair, defiant and cocky and - oh fuck.
Alfred looked at the hard bulge in his pants then at the hat sitting on the bed besides him. “A - Arthur!” he gasped, hands fumbling to unzip his pants and free his painful erection.
“So ye be here.”
Alfred froze for a good ten seconds.
“A - Arthur!” he jumped, scrambling for the covers, for anything that would cover his very obvious erection. Throwing a pillow over his lap, he tried to smile casually. “W - what’s up?” Damn his voice for shaking!
Arthur eyes the pillow a little too long for comfort. Alfred gulped.
The guilty hat had fallen from the bed in his haste to grab a pillow. It rolled along the floor towards Arthur’s foot as if it had a mind of its own and was returning to its master. That was a damn creepy thought, Alfred realised.
Stooping down, Arthur picked up the hat and put it on. Even in a sweater-vest, the hat suited him and Alfred had to suppress the pleasant trill that ran up his spine as the Arthur in his imagination was slowly being realised right in front of his eyes.
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