There's a soundtrack to this, which I will be posting later.
A rather serious problem in slash fic is that sex is often inaccurately portrayed. I would definitely love some help that stops me from fucking up sex scenes.
Alfred's body rolled with his, perfectly in sync and buried deep within him. His mouth was sealed to Arthur's, and when the smaller man broke away, gasping for air, Alfred merely latched onto his throat, sucking and nipping his way down to Arthur's collarbone. He tugged feebly at Alfred's shirt.
"Get this bloody thing off," he grunted. Alfred obliged, flinging the damp outerwear across the room and Arthur was rewarded with a glorious glimpse of rippling muscle under tanned skin. Their harsh breaths echoed in the room and Arthur was dangerously close to coming. As if on cue, Alfred began to stroke him, slow and steady. His arm was balanced next to Arthur's head and Arthur took the opportunity to slide the palm of his hand up the younger man's arm until his fingers were in the other man's hair.
When he came, Alfred collapsed on top of him. Groaning, Arthur pushed him off. Alfred threw his arm over Arthur's stomach and kissed his shoulder, spooning him as he did so.
"I love you Arthur," he said.
Feels Winter Wind hated his errant memories, hated how the thought of Alfred Jones made his toes involuntarily curl in his loafers, hated how Francis' touch was a mere warmth compared to how the man kissed him in his dreams. It was pure luck that prevented the dreams from being a nightly occurrence. Arthur Kirkland lay dormant within his mind, but sometimes, when Winter felt particularly vulnerable, he could feel the human underneath the surface. He had never tried to hold a conversation with the man, boring as he seemed with his accounting job at a firm. Social mobility for Kirkland came when Winter had proved that slightly built men could be exceptionally fast at catching people. His mouth curled. The Seekers had made a mistake, thinking this one was part of the resistance. Arthur Kirkland was no Melanie Stryder. Running a comb through his hair, he slicked it back, studying his reflection. Green eyes ringed with silver stared back.
He'd put down rebellions on three worlds. He was one of the best. When Mother had made her Sacrifice, giving birth to the next generation at the expense of her existence, he had been born with a tiny piece of her pride and hunger for success. Feels Winter Wind was not like his kind, because of the simple fact that he was a pragmatic soul. He was a soldier.
When he walked into his office, Natasha followed him in. "Seeker Inrani wants to speak with you. She said it was important."
He nodded. "Anything of interest occurring on the news?" It was a running gag that he did not own a television.
"All quiet on the western front." She left and Winter snorted at the table, shaking his head. He'd left the mission report on the spy they'd found under a pile of papers that needed to be signed. Snagging it, he made his way to his superior's office, waiting quietly as she spoke to another man. A few strands of gray gleamed in her smooth black hair and he caught himself wondering why she didn't color it. He walked in as soon the room was empty.
"Punctual as usual, Seeker. I could set my clock by you."
"Good morning."
She smirked, pleased at his discomfort. Inrani had the uncanny ability to unsettle people at a whim. Winter had seen her with humans, how her voice became lower, gentler as she convinced them that the souls were there to help them, that their rebel propaganda was wrong. She adjusted the steel rimmed glasses perched on her nose, an affectation from her human days, and pressed play on a remote.
"You parasites have done nothing but take our bodies and crush our souls with yours. As if a worm could ever be a replacement for a human soul," Alfred Jones sneered from the screen, "as if your pathetic ways would ever be anything other than..pathetic."
When had Alfred learned to look so scornful?
Inrani paused the video. "This was sent to us five hours ago. There is no timestamp, no geotag that could help us find where this came from. The gist of it is that Alfred Jones is not your usual rebel. He was part of the United States Navy and was on leave when we arrived on this planet. He claims to actively disdain all form of passive negotiations and will use any means necessary to wipe our kind out. I called you here," she raised a finger to stop his reply, "because you knew this human before."
"You want me to find him." It wasn't a question.
"I knew you'd catch on quick. You, Feels Winter Wind, are the brightest, most talented Seeker in the organization. Who better than Alfred Jones' former husband?"
His desire to strangle her must have flitted across his face, because Inrani held up placating hands. "That's information on a strictly need to know basis, Winter Wind. None know except for me and your Healer." Her voice dropped an octave. "I realize that this will be traumatic for you, and I truly am sorry for this. You must do your best to keep him alive when you bring him in."
"Has anyone else tried to capture him?" He tapped his index and middle fingers together, a nervous habit he'd retained from Kirkland.
"Yes. They found Seeker Ryo's body about half an hour ago, I believe. Dances With Leaves had been ripped out of her body-"
"I understand Seeker Inrani. You needn't go into details."
"No you don't," she said icily. "If you die, morale plummets. If you die, I lose one of my best men. And if you defect to the other side, we will lose this war. People do the strangest things for love, Seeker."
"You speak with quite a bit of authority on this matter."
Winter's insinuation was not lost on her and she smiled wryly, steepling her fingers. The skyline of the city gleamed behind her and he felt something cringe inside him at the thought that he'd have to leave civilization in order to find a psychotic murderer.
"It's my job to sound like the boss. Now make like a library and book." She reclined in her chair, appearing to lose herself in the mission report he'd bought and ignoring him entirely.
He had to give it to the woman, she was creative.