Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, England, Canada, America/Canada, America/England.
Warnings: Language and sexual situations.
Summary: Arthur lowered his head to Alfred's nearest ear, and blew out a hot breath of air...
Arthur became completely still, and not simply because he could feel an orgasm rippling through his body, but also because… because… Fuck, had he actually heard that? He mentally repeated the twin’s name and winced at this revelation, the idea of that ruining his spiral down from his pleasure high. He then gave an involuntarily moan. Chest heaving and sweating, he managed to pull himself off of Alfred. He stood on shaky legs and stared at him for a moment, doubling over and gripping his knees an instant later.
No! How could this possibly happen!? What reason on earth could he have for this!? I have to find out!
“What… Ugh, wh-what’s with you, Alfred?” he demanded, dropping to the floor rather dramatically once he had spoken, folding his legs beneath him to soften the impact. His voice was unsteady in a mixture between the effects of intense sex and the shock of what he had heard. He was unable to hold himself up after such physical exertion - and how lovely it had been, not including that last bit - and was grateful that he at least had the strength to get away, safe on the cream-colored carpet. He blinked up at the other boy, and verbally attacked him again, more viciously, “Well!? The bloody fuck is wrong with you!?”
It was the most aggressive he had ever been with him, and he wasn’t remorseful for it. It was simply reactive to be shouting and using a rough vocabulary like this, how could one expect him to be a gentleman now? This was almost too much for him.
Alfred glanced away, he grabbed the nearest pillow to shamefully cover his messy lap, which was similar to Arthur’s, though it currently didn’t seem to matter to him. He adjusted his glasses and drew a deep breath, and yet no words were spoken, a painful amount of embarrassment and fear welling up inside him, cutting him off. He continued to avoid making eye contact and flinched when that beautiful, accented voice, now tainted by fury, roared at him for a third time.
“Tell me! Your twin’s name during our sex, are you serious!?”
“I, I…! I mean, w-we, uhm… I’m s-sorry--”
There was a loud smacking sound as the two blondes collided, Arthur having launched onto the bed and tackling Alfred out of sheer frustration - it was quite the impressive feat for a slim British boy with a tender backside to successfully knock over one of the school’s star football players. It was his emotional upset that drove him. He forced them to lock gazes, and Alfred, however, closed his eyes when he had the chance, guilt-stricken aquamarine irises hidden. And despite not having to look at Arthur and his cold stare, he could still feel him. They were flesh-to-flesh, the pillow pushed aside and his hips straddled, their stomachs flat on one another. He whimpered.
Arthur lowered his head to Alfred’s nearest ear, and blew out a hot breath of air. He hissed his name, and, upon receiving no reply, made a low growl in the back of his throat. A pause was taken, and he bit Alfred’s vulnerable earlobe a few seconds later and only released when he had something different to hiss at him.
“… Incest is a sick, twisted thing. Even more so with a sibling that close, with sex involved. Tch, you’re literally fucking yourself over,” he told him, hands moving to grip at the broad set of shoulders he found. His nails were dug into the skin, his negativity expressed further. He was pissed off. He wasn’t concerned or fearful, just pissed. And he believed that he had every right to be, hearing another’s name, an utterly bizarre name, from the mouth of his partner when he was the one providing the pleasure. “Do you understand me, Alfred?”
Of course he understood, he was simply terrified to face the facts, the facts of how wrong his relationship with his twin was and how it had come to light in the worst way possible. He obviously did feel sick and twisted, his stomach in knots and threatening to spill its contents. There was no escape, he was trapped beneath Arthur’s knowledge of the situation, and there was no consolation for him, any tender terms of ‘love’ or ‘darling’ replaced by the growling of his name. The idea of this saddened him, and he finally glanced back at Arthur, torn between pleading and arguing his case.
In the end, he merely chose to remain neutral and informative, “I… I understand you, yeah. Mattie and I are, uhm, I mean, we’ve been together before… It’s just always been like that for us, you know? I-It’s hard to explain it’s almost like an instinct.”
He then stared straight at Arthur, watching as he shifted off of him and turned around to perch on the edge of the bed, his own eyes fixed on that contrast of dark ink on pale skin before him. He bit his lip when there was no immediate response, and moved forward.
“Arthur, please…” he started with, wrapping his arms around him from behind and feeling his torso stiffening, “I’m so sorry… I know it’s wrong, a-and that’s why I think I’ve tried to become close with you, because I wanted a good, healthy relationship. I want to be normal, to have a real boyfriend. I want to be out in the open with you, but, but… I can’t because of Mattie. He’s so attached to me, and I’m the same, but I know better, and it’s so hard to--!”
Arthur held up his hand to stop him. A moment of silence was required for some thought here. He needed to sort out the swirling mass of hope, doubt, anger, and sympathy inside his mind. What a dilemma this was! He shook his head, remaining in Alfred’s hold, though exhaling with a disappointed-sounding sigh.
“You’re sweet, Alfred, you truly are, and you’re confused. It’s that ‘heroic nature’ you told me about a few weeks ago… You want to make everyone happy and to save us all - and you can’t.”
“I want to be happy with you!”
“And your twin’s feelings? Are you shoving them aside?”
“No. I want him to be happy, too, in his own way, without me having to be his lifeline.”
Shaking him off gently and standing, he shifted to gather his boxers from where they lay discarded on the carpet. When he had them on, he chose to take a break in dressing himself further in order to tell Alfred what he, no, what they were going to do next, “Matthew needs a talking to, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Clean yourself up and get dressed - we’re about to set things straight.”
Alfred nodded and followed suit. The sun had set at this point, and he had been instructed to not turn on any lights, something that oddly comforted him, leaving them to move amongst the shadows. Not without words, however, small bits of reassurance from Arthur heard on occasion and more apologies from Alfred himself. He couldn’t help it, he had never felt so out of his element before! As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, wet washcloth wiping over his stained lower half and vision obscured, he wondered if his hands were shaking from eagerness or dread.-----
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((Sorry for the short chapter, guys.))