Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, England, Canada, America/Canada, America/England.
Warnings: Language and sexual situations.
Summary: Squirming, Alfred read the recently-received text message from Arthur over and over again, the glare of his cell phone’s screen lighting up the desire on his face...
“So, what do you think? Did I balance this equation right?” Alfred asked his twin, blinking and holding his chemistry assignment up to him. It was one which they were each currently doing, as they had the same teacher for the subject, but not for the same hour.
Matthew shrugged with indifference, muttering, “It looks all right to me… Why don’t you pay more attention in class?”
There was no chance given to respond, his dark blonde head already aimed back down at his own paper. In his right hand was a mechanical pencil, its tip producing numbers and symbols, while his left hand, his entire left arm, to be exact, clutched at a large stuffed polar bear that sat in his lap. It was worn with childhood love, first received when he was no older than three, and had finally been retired from his toy chest to a high shelf in his room when he was at his ‘tween’ stage some years ago. Now, the bear was only taken up in his arms when he was feeling upset or afraid - and in this case, it seemed to be a severe mixture of both.
Alfred recognized this, and had no intention of disturbing him any further. It was a mid-September Sunday morning, and they were supposed to be spending quality time together working on homework while their father was out. This time was precious and needed to go well, unlike how things had seemed to be going lately. Because of this, he chose to agree and remain perky, “You’re right, I’m such a dumbass… Oh, hey, is that your French stuff? Cool.”
The nearly-completed chemistry assignment had been tucked away into Matthew’s binder, an annoyed effort to keep his twin from cheating, and had been replaced by a stapled packet of French conjugation tables. He merely nodded at the other’s babblings.
Alfred made the mistake of continuing, “That reminds me, when I was waiting for you after third hour on Friday, I saw you talking to your French teacher. And you were blushing, haha! I guess I can’t blame you, that guy is pretty good-looking, and he’s a young teacher, too. Isn’t French the language of love or whatever? I--”
“Shut up. Monsieur Bonnefoy is my teacher and nothing more. How could you even think of me having feelings for someone else? You’re the only one for me, Alfred, don’t be ridiculous,” Matthew snapped, sounding like a scolding, suspicious parent to their child. He narrowed his gaze and pushed his empty orange juice glass toward him, scoffing cruelly as he stood from the dining table, “Put that in the dishwasher. And try not to break it like you did the picture frame.”
He strode off to the living room.
With a frustrated sound escaping him, Alfred followed, abandoning their homework. He peeked in at his twin, already feeling that undeniable ache in his heart as he watched him curl up on the edge of the couch, arms crossed. He hesitated before moving to sit beside him. He wrapped his own arms around him, their matching tank tops brushing together, the only sound to be heard in the open space of the room… It was soon accompanied by Matthew’s sniffles, his eyes welling up with tears and his chest beginning to heave in the embrace, which he buried himself into.
“Why do you do this to me? You-You’re awful, you hate me,” he sobbed, nestling against him. He didn’t actually return the embrace, however, hands clenched into weak fists that punched at anything he could find. “What-What’s wrong with you? You’ve changed. Tell me you have, don’t lie to me… d-don’t lie…!”
Alfred understood that it was best to deny this, obviously, wanting to ease the emotional pain of his twin and wanting to keep himself and Arthur, his feisty British sex secret, out of trouble. He was being selfish, for the most part. It was all true - he had changed, and their relationship was deteriorating. But he couldn’t allow Matthew to realize that he knew this. That he was slowly accepting it.
“I’m sorry. This year has been hard for us both, believe me.”
“No, you can’t just say that! I won’t believe that you’re so stressed that you can’t love me!”
“… Mattie, of course I love you. I love you so, so much.”
“Then why do I feel so alone!?”
As Alfred lay in his bed some two or three hours later, he reflected on these words with a softly grumbling stomach, having skipped lunch in favor of comforting Matthew. Not that he had particularly enjoyed comforting him, or felt that it was necessary, when one took the time to judge how much exaggerated sobbing and vicious whining had been involved. He had done it out of instinct. And out of self-interest in keeping down the notions regarding his dirty little secret, somehow not experiencing a terribly large amount of guilt. His twin had been lost in sorrow because of the negative developments in their relationship - therefore, he inherently knew that he himself was the only one able to amend the situation, still managing to hold his new connection with Arthur at a higher level.
Damn it, his poor sibling didn’t deserve this, and he was making it all worse by leading him on and losing interest in their deep, sexual attachment. He thought of that lithe body writhing beneath him, gasping and thrusting and quickly giving into the heated dominance. A shiver passed through him and he touched the very body he was imagining, currently resting beside him. The shared scent of musk from their lovemaking drew him in, soft skin and sweet breath doing the same… And yet…
‘Sorry we couldn’t see each other this weekend, love. But how about next Friday night at my place? The parents will be out of town, I just found out.’
Squirming, Alfred read the recently-received text message from Arthur over and over again, the glare of his cell phone’s screen lighting up the desire on his face. He glanced anxiously at the dozing Matthew beside him before typing out an eager reply and sending it. He swallowed back his present problems and looked forward to the future.
“I had to lie to Mattie,” Alfred was explaining less than a week later, on that designated Friday night, “I told him that I had a football players-only party tonight. I couldn’t get out otherwise, you know?”
Arthur stared at him. The front door to his family’s two-story townhouse was closed behind them, and he nodded in a thoughtful manner. He rubbed at his chin, his stare shifting to wander over the main room’s beige wallpaper and countryside furnishings, eventually returning to his houseguest. Hm.
“… Why is that? Why do you need to lie to him? Are you ashamed of us?” he questioned in a rather sharp tone, though it was understandable. He certainly didn’t want to be hidden away due to whatever ridiculous reasons that were imposed by the quiter of the Jones twins.
Alfred shook his head, grabbing Arthur’s nearest hand and pulling him in for a kiss, saying when they were apart, “I’m not ashamed of us. I really like you, and what we have, it’s just… difficult with Mattie.”
“We’re, uhm, close to each other. So, I doubt he would like the idea of me having… having a boyfriend,” he told him, unsure of whether or not that could be considered a lie. Not that it mattered much, since Arthur appeared to be soaking it in and believing it. Whew. “He’d probably think that I’d forget about him. I wouldn’t - but he always worries, so I hope to save him the trouble by not telling him.”
Arthur flexed his fingers, sighing and perking his head in the direction of the townhouse’s staircase. His voice was gentle, “Then I suppose that’s fine. I thought that maybe you were afraid of your sexuality… I was upset the other day when you wouldn’t hold my hand in the hallway, though I understand now that you simply didn’t want your twin to see.”
He let their hands drop and wrapped both arms around Alfred’s neck, instead. Their lips met as he stood on the tips of his toes, the fabric of their school uniforms rustling together. An accented chuckle escaped him when Alfred’s glasses bumped his nose, while Alfred shivered upon detecting the metallic smoothness of his piercing on the inside of his mouth. When they each took a full breath of air almost a minute later, he said, “Try to get him used to the idea, mm? I hate to limit myself to whenever we’re behind closed doors. I want to be affectionate with you in public, too.”
The thick carpeting on the stairs silenced their footsteps during the climb, however, their smacking kisses and hissed, naughty promises along the way were hardly silent. When they reached Arthur’s bedroom, dim with the fading twilight from his partially-curtained window, everything suddenly became even louder, starting off with creaking of bed beneath their combined weight. The sheets and pillows, which had previously been perfectly tidy, were soon ruffled - similar to themselves. Blazers were unbuttoned, dress pants were unzipped, and limbs were entangled…
“Good God, Alfred. You’re so big,” Arthur purred, one hand feeling his length through his exposed boxers. He squeezed at the base and produced an intense groan from the younger boy. He bit his lower lip and couldn’t help himself from repeating the action, also choosing to grind his front against the strong thigh he was straddling. They groaned simultaneously, and their gazes locked a moment later. They were equally motionless until a grin began to spread across Arthur’s face.
“Well,” he started with, leaning down to kiss at Alfred’s jaw, “do you want to? I do have a box of condoms for us, and also some lubricant. I nicked it from one of those sex shops on the East side of town… It’s vanilla-scented, love…”
“Yeah,” Alfred replied, fairly monosyllabic in comparison to the other’s seemingly drawn-out chatter. He listened and became nervous.
“Brilliant! You want to top, then?”
Arthur raised an eyebrow, asking as he rubbed his right hand over the tense shoulder he found, “Everything all right? We don’t have to--”
“No! I, I mean… I want to,” he said firmly, his features displaying determination in the dim light. He held the smaller blonde tightly against him for a few seconds and forced himself to relax. Another kiss or two was exchanged, and they undressed themselves entirely once they were satisfied and certain. Once Alfred believed to have perfectly pushed his twin from his mind. He refused to have any thought of Matthew here, despite the fact that he envisioned him upon seeing Arthur’s naked form before him. It was such a pain, fuck, this was so overwhelming for him, he had never had done this with anyone else!
From his nightstand’s drawer, the top covered with thick novels and unfinished works of embroidery, Arthur extracted a condom and the bottle of lubricant. Soon enough, the air around them smelled contrastingly of sex and vanilla. Earlier doubts had, hopefully, disappeared, especially when they truly started moving… They had decided to use the reverse cowgirl position - indeed, they had both giggled immaturely at the name - and were utterly adoring it together. Arthur had his legs spread wide, every rock of his hips forward sending pangs of pleasure pricking over Alfred’s nerves. He gripped Arthur’s throbbing erection from where he sat gyrating in his lap, and stroked. He was approaching his climax, sweating and pushing and whispering obscene things, when he called out in ecstasy. His back arched and he shuddered, a name heard.
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