Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, England, America/England.
Warnings: Language and sexual situations.
Summary: In desperate need to keep his apartment with Arthur and to sort out his feelings for him, Alfred takes up a job at a strip joint. He only prays that it won't affect his emotions or his sanity...
Arthur blinked, shutting his laptop and setting down his teacup while he repeated, “Take my… clothes off?”
“Yeah,” Alfred nodded, wobbling slightly when he stepped forward and shut the door behind him with his foot. Damn, his backside was still sore from the beating it had taken early, which hindered his movements and caused him to appear even more intoxicated than he already was. He whimpered and leaned against the wall, barely making eye contact with the other and continuing to clutch the strange array of items in his arms. “Let’s, you know, let’s have sex - fuck, make love, whatever you want to call it.”
Of course, Arthur’s face immediately went red at that notion, and he forgot the comment he was going to make on the Alfred’s behavior. He was now distracted by something much more intense. After all, he was a teenaged boy being prompted by his love interest for physical pleasure, how in the world could he focus on anything else?
“And you went out and bought those things just for us?”
“I did,” Alfred said, nodding his head more vigorously than the first time. He squeezed his armful of items more closely to his body for emphasis. His knees wobbled and knocked together, a rather pathetic action that he hoped could pass as a result of excitement. He licked his lips. “Please, Arthur?”
The Briton didn’t need to be asked again, quickly moving from the table to the door and kissing seemingly flawless young man in front of him. It wasn’t until they were entering the bedroom, side by side, that he began to recognize a flaw, a part that was off. It was a taste in his mouth, a taste from the recent kiss. The flavor was a distinctly alcoholic one, only reminding and deepening his previous suspicions in regards to Alfred’s voice. He winced, not wanting to ruin the moment, though understanding that this couldn’t be left unquestioned. It was his duty as a good boyfriend to be certain that nothing was amiss, for it could have a devastating effect on them both.
“Have you been drinking tonight?” he asked, allowing himself to be pushed down onto the nearest futon once Alfred had closed the bedroom door. “Because you--”
“I drank at the liquor store, yeah. The sales clerk kind of talked me into it… I had just come from the pharmacy with the condoms and lube in my hands, and he said that if I wanted to ‘get it on’ with someone tonight, I had better loosen up, so… I bought a couple beers there and drank them before buying the wine and leaving,” he lied, shrugging. Yes, he had admitted that he was drunk, and, no, he hadn’t admitted how it actually happened. However, the fact that he was telling false stories to his boyfriend failed to bother him in his current state, where all that mattered was him being away from that damn club, and being together with Arthur, instead.
“Oh,” Arthur said, feeling a bit confused at the explanation and yet choosing to brush it off for now. There were much more important things to be concerned with, like how Alfred was already taking his pants and shirt off, revealing skin that was vaguely tinged with sweat. He raised a single thick brow and reached out to graze his fingers over the other’s bared shoulders, asking, “And you’re sure that you’re all right? I don’t want you straining yourself after a night of work.”
I don’t want you rushing through this, either. This is supposed to be special.
Arthur chose not to voice these thoughts, and he couldn’t even if he wished to, as Alfred’s mouth was soon covering his, a strong kiss silencing him. The action held so many emotions, almost too many, which ranged from frustration to passion. When they eventually broke away, panting, the taller blonde whispered, “ I’m fine. We’re fine, okay?”
“… Okay,” he replied with a positive shake of his head, diving in for another kiss that led to them rolling around on the futon, Alfred’s items left abandoned on the floor. It was an almost mindless frenzy from there. They scrambled around together, loudly smacking lips and picking off their clothes down to the last pair of boxers. When their naked, heated flesh began to create too much friction between them, they broke apart, allowing them to take a breather and for Arthur to playfully pester, “Give me some of that wine. It’s not fair that you’re the only one with a buzz. And I’m turning on the radio - I don’t want us making any embarrassing sounds that the neighbors can hear.”
Chuckling and sticking his tongue out, Alfred fumbled over the side of the futon for the bottle of alcohol in question while Arthur fussed with the radio on their shared nightstand. Upon locating the wine, he noticed that it was still rather chill from being in the cold air on the walk home from the joint… Wait, wait a minute… He had stolen that bottle of wine from the joint, he had stolen from Sir! And it wasn’t just that, it was the condoms and lubricant, too, damn it! Oh, God, it didn’t help that the station the radio had been adjusted to was one that oozed pop music, consisting of remixes and fast-paced beats that were normally play in… strip clubs.
He gulped, and his hand went limp as Arthur snatched away the unopened bottle.
Arthur took a few good swigs from the bottle, too busy downing the alcohol to observe Alfred and his suddenly-jittered frame. The bottle was eventually drawn away from his lips, taken by the other for a few good swigs of his own. Fuck, he desperately needed his thoughts to be clouded and free of any worry about the joint…
“You want to top, right?” Arthur asked, his voice tinged with a slur, as he was a lightweight when it came to drinking. Nevertheless, he still had his senses and was quite aware of the situation. He smiled when he received a nod in reply, leaning over to kiss him once more and saying, “I trust you, Alfred, love. I trust you so much.”
“I know… Thank you. I, I’m glad that I’m here with you,” he murmured softly. His mind went blank after that, focused only on Arthur’s body beneath him and how himself was moving, breathing, living this experience. He had wanted this for too long.
With the wine pushed aside, Alfred started on his task of preparing Arthur, making his fingers slick with the lubricant and inserting his index first. Hey, at least he had learned something from the joint. He worked it in and out carefully, having to push up to get at the proper angle, as they had wordlessly decided to use the missionary position. He waited a good minute or so before slipping in a second and third finger inside, the quiet squeals he heard serving to be his encouragement. Another couple minutes of stretching and he was unable to hold back any longer, his erection absolutely aching and the Briton feeling loosened enough. He took a condom from the box, put it on, and covered it
with a generous smearing of the lubricant.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes… Nngh… A-Ah, Alfred!”
Arthur bit his lower lip and nodded, forcing himself to keep quiet while Alfred pushed in deeper, having stopped for only a short time to ask if his partner was all right before continuing. For him, it hurt. It hurt because this was his first time, however, he believed that it would soon become less painful and more pleasurable. It had to. They were a sturdy couple and this was the best thing for them! He began to shift his lower half in ways that hoped would help to stretch and ease the burning sensation - unfortunately, these actions were performed at the same time that hovering young man chose to thrust. Now that, that truly hurt. He let out a weak moan and reached up to grab at the muscular shoulders above him. His palms were sweaty, face flushed and his own erection tight against by Alfred’s stomach.
On the other end of this, Alfred couldn’t be enjoying himself more. How liberating this was, to be in control of the sex he was having! He wasn’t made to be on the bottom, he wasn’t putting on a ‘show’ for anyone, and he was with someone who he honestly cared for! These thoughts only fed his appetite to thrust and seek satisfaction, any regard for Arthur’s physical being momentarily abandoned. Ah, yes, he was free now, he didn’t have to worry about everything that was wrong with his life! He was--!
Less than five minutes in, he came. Not only did he have a sexual climax, but he additionally had an emotional one as the world seemed to come crashing down around him. There was too much at once within his burdened mind. It all seemed to be over, he was losing it.
“Arthur,” he croaked, abruptly pulling out and lacking affection in his gaze. He rolled to the side, off the futon and on his hands and knees, gasping, “I have to… have to tell you something.”
Blinking and utterly confused, Arthur grumbled, “Ah… go on then?”
He didn’t have the foggiest idea as to what Alfred so desperately needed to tell him, and while acting in such a strange way, as well! What, was he going to declare his love for him? Their sex had suddenly ended and now there was going to be a confession of some sort? His expression was one of sheer weariness.
Then, his jaw dropped in shock the instant the explanation began. He wished he could have covered his ears and screamed, he couldn’t fathom what he was hearing even in his wildest dreams. The reality behind Alfred’s life in the past week was amazing, disgusting.
“Is that why you’ve been so tired? Because you’re busy running around getting drunk and giving strip teases!?”
“N-No! I just… just, try to understand. I didn’t know what to do, and the opportunity was there. It made sense to me.”
“You’re out of your bloody fucking mind! That doesn’t make sense, and you should have told me!”
“If I had told you, then you wouldn’t have let me do it and I would have no money to live here with you!”
Perhaps it was the alcohol in his system, or perhaps it was the stress of the situation, but the desire to get up and leave overwhelmed him. He stood on shaky feet, ignoring Arthur’s growling demands for him to return and finish their conversation. No, he needed to be anywhere other than here. It was the joint all over again.
He walked to his pile of clothing from earlier, yanking each article on in a sloppy manner. He was shaking his head the entire time, and didn’t stop until he heard Arthur’s voice for the last time that night.
“If you leave now,” he said, swallowing and skin more pale than usual, “I’ll never forgive you. Please, come sit and talk with me… Stay.”
They exchanged glances, aquamarine to emerald, and not another word was spoken as Alfred exited the bedroom, turning his back to the one person that could save him.
Directly outside of the apartment, where he remained for a few seconds prior to moving onto the streets, Alfred was cold and alone. Although, he wouldn’t be for long, soon finding company that made his body ripe with a nervous heat.
“Alfred,” Sir huffed, grabbing the startled young man by his nearest forearm, his thick jacket flapping with the movement. He had been lurking around the apartment complex ever since he realized that he had been robbed by one of his lowest whores. He knew exactly where this little troublemaker lived and exactly how he was going to punish him. He didn’t even bother hiding his automatic pistol, immediately sticking it under his victim’s jaw. Ha, he loved how those stupid features became engulfed by fear! “I’ve been lookin’ for ya, ya thievin’ slut… See, ya broke the most important rule tonight. Never, ever piss. Me. Off.”
The gunshot roused Arthur from his angry state, bringing him out into the streets to find the lonely corpse of someone who needed saving.
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