Some more UKUS PWP! I guess this is set in a kind of Gakuen-esque universe...idk. :D Have some fun with the subway sex! Hahaha.
Arthur has the most persistent boner ever in this. Lol.
Arthur feels Alfred squeeze his hand tighter as the younger boy droops his head against his shoulder, scooting over closer to the older man over the hard seats. Arthur let him, albeit not without a grudging expression, and turns his head, pressing his temple against the cool vibrating glass of the window.
The two of them habitually took the metro home, especially on those days when classes stretched late into the evening. It was by a stroke of luck that the two lived in the same neighborhood, a couple blocks from the nearby station.
Arthur generally found public transportation to be rather unsavory, especially this late into the evening, but, strangely, no one else is riding with the two in the particular subway car. And Arthur is a little grateful for that, as he scowls at the jacket splayed across his lap and the younger boy resting, blissfully unaware, next to him.
Alfred had the audacity to fall asleep on him when the current "situation" was all his fault.
During the last class of the day, which they shared, Alfred had apparently thought it hilarious to engage in a bout of "footsie" underneath the discussion table. So while their teaching assistant had droned on about the dynamics of multiculturalism and its importance to the health of American culture, Arthur was tasked with trying his best to stifle obscene groans that threatened to pull out of his mouth whenever Alfred's bare toes brushed up his thighs, tickling the area dangerously close to his crotch. Occasionally, he had shot the cheeky man warning glances, but the smug and damn it, fucking sexy look on his face only made Arthur grow hotter.
Of course, after their class ended Alfred had laughed at his little "game" and gloated about how incredible easy he was to tease, completely ignoring the "problem" that he had left Arthur with.
He'd already pulled his jacket off and pillowed it in his lap in an attempt to hide the growing embarrassment. Arthur had tried to think about all forms of nasty things like the stuffed sheep's stomach his brother makes on Robert Burns Day, or the mole with the prickle of hair on his grandmum's lip that brushes up against him every time he's pulled into a sloppy kiss but—-
The tickle of Alfred's hair on the side of his neck and the curl of his breath only serve to banish all those thoughts and make the "problem" worse.
The train jolts, bumping over the tracks, and Arthur can barely conceal a groan, even as his head sways and smacks against the window he's resting on.
Fucking vibrations are making him ache. He isn't going to last the rest of the trip, he's sure of it. But Arthur certainly wouldn't allow himself the indignity of coming in his own pants.
Beside him, Alfred mumbles quietly in his half awake, have asleep state. Arthur turns and tilts his head down to look at him. Alfred's pink lips are slightly parted, a string of drool glistening on the corner of his mouth. The blonde hair in front of his nose flutters with every exhale. Arthur gulps, feeling himself stir further at the sight of his boyfriend so peaceful an vulnerable.
He glances around, making absolutely sure that nobody else is present in the particular car. He eyes the electronic screen near the front of the train, which lists the next stop as well as the approximate time duration remaining until they reached their destination.
Fifteen minutes until the next stop
Arthur bites his lip.
It would be at least a little while until the the train halted and other people began to file in, but still, he would have to work rather fast if he was to quench the throbbing need.
First of all, he needed Alfred to wake up.
"Al," Arthur whispers, shrugging his shoulder a little in an attempt to stir the boy lying up against him.
It took a few shakes, but after a while Alfred starts a little, pulling away from Arthur's shoulder and up into a hunched sitting position. He rubs his eyes and lets out a tiny yawn.
"What is it, Artie? Was having a good dream—" Alfred crosses his legs and puts on a sleepy pout.
The little bit of bed head, as well as the dazed little gleam in Alfred's eyes, makes Arthur mouth run dry. He licks his lips, trying to form the right words, though they tumble out inelegantly anyway.
"I'm hard." Oh well. There's no time to sugarcoat it.
Alfred immediately stops rubbing his bleary eyes, and looks up at Arthur with a mix of surprise and disgust on his face.
"W-what?"
Alfred's eyes fall to the jacket crumpled in Arthur's lap and he makes a face, scooting away.
"Um, okay? What the hell, did the train ride turn you on or something?" Alfred's nervous laugh is cut off when Arthur reaches out and grabs onto the front of his shirt, pulling him back closer.
"I want you."
As he sits up the jacket falls away from his thighs, making said "problem" all too visible to the flustered young man.
"Are you crazy?" Alfred squeaks, squirming away as Arthur rubs his fingers along his arms, "Here? No! No way!"
"Al—"
"It's sick! W-what if someone catches us?"
Truthfully, now that Arthur thinks about it—that's a part of the thrill. At first, he had acted out of a pure need—but, frankly, now the idea of being intimate in this setting excited Arthur more than it aggrieved him. He had heard about people who craved the fearful adrenaline brought on by doing the deed in public places, but had never imagined that the idea could thrill him so in reality.
But if he tells Alfred, Alfred, the boy who still giggles whenever someone says the word "penis" this, then he's sure his boyfriend will shove him off, call him a "pervert" or a "sicko" and then refuse to talk to him for the rest of the ride home. And none of that will do in this situation.
"Nobody is going to catch us," Arthur assures as he hovers over Alfred, coaxing his boyfriend backwards until he's almost lying on his back against the plastic seats. Alfred's resolve is slowly crumbling against the advances, but still, his nervous hands settle on Arthur's shoulders.
"Dude, I just don't know—I don't know about this—"
"Are you sure?" Arthur slides a hand up and under Alfred's uniform shirt, slowly feeling up the boy's stomach. Arthur knows from past experience that Alfred is one of those people who, fortunately or not, has a very sensitive stomach.
Alfred gasps as the spindly fingers glide across his belly, brushing over the small trail of hair below his navel, stroking over the soft curve of his waist and sides. His hands tighten on Arthur's shoulders, instinctively pulling him closer. Arthur, never one to ignore Alfred's knee jerk reactions, dips down and envelopes his boyfriend in a kiss.
Alfred's lip is trembling when Arthur pulls back, a pout deep set on his pinking face.
"No fair."
Alfred may be putting on an annoyed face, but Arthur can tell by the tone in his voice and the way he moves up against the older boy, trying to gain more friction, that he's been given permission to move forward. He leans down, nudging aside Alfred's jaw as he kisses and licks up to his ear, whispering into the fleshy curve of the shell.
"Let's get to it then, eh?"
Nine minutes left, Arthur thinks as he glances up from Alfred to the screen near the front of the cab and the red clock indicating both the time and the duration until the next stop.
Should be plenty of time.
A whine snaps his gaze back down to where Alfred lies, half naked and writhing against the intrusion of Arthur's saliva-slicked fingers inside of him as well as their sudden lack of movement. Alfred shifts, his elbow knocking into the back of the plastic seats.
"Artie—move—-and this position sucks!"
The seats are small and narrow and obviously uncomfortable, by the way Alfred squirms and shifts in a attempt to find a more suitable position. Arthur, frustrated, finally grabs Alfred wrists with his free hand and lifts them up over the younger boy's head.
"Keep your hands up there," Alfred rolls his eyes but complies, lacing his fingers together in an attempt to keep them from lashing out into Arthur's way.
Even so, Alfred struggles to keep his hands up and together as he feels Arthur's fingers move, more impatient and insistent than normal.
Arthur slows his movement again as he looks up and realizes with a scowl that they only have seven minutes, now. He pulls his fingers out of Alfred, perhaps a little roughly, by the way Alfred squeaks and curls his toes.
Arthur sets about unzipping his own pants, relieved when the problem that has been plaguing him for the better part of an hour finally springs loose from its constraints. He grins a little in anticipation as he grabs the back of Alfred's thighs and lifts them, settling the knees just above the jut of his hips.
Alfred is perhaps a little startled by Arthur's haste, as he scrambles to prop himself up on his elbows when he feels something press up against his ass.
"W-wait! Wait, f-fuck—-" He lets out a strange combination of a yelp and a moan as Arthur pushes into him.
"No time," The older man grunts, pulling Alfred towards him as he shoves in as deep as he can go. Alfred's body twists as he kicks out his legs, the pressure more uncomfortable and painful than it had ever been before. Alfred's folds his still jacketed arms over his face, clutching at the elbows, teeth gritted and eyes prickling.
Alfred's legs shake from where they are clenched around the other man's waist and Arthur himself is trembling: but just from the intense and nigh unbearable feeling around his cock. Not only Alfred's warmth, but—the sensation of the train, vibrating and jolting ever so slightly over the tracks—it courses up through Alfred's body like waves of an earthquake through the ground, amplified by Alfred's own body motions by the time it reaches Arthur.
The train bumps over an irregularity in the track and Alfred moans embarrassingly loud as the dick inside him shifts with it.
"Art—please—"
Arthur eventually manages to find an adequate hold and position, grabbing tightly on the top of the train seat, one hand slipping under Alfred's ass to try to better the angle. But another shock of vibrations rattles through him and he can't take it anymore so he gives up finding the perfect position and instead begins to thrust in.
It's awkward and generally uncomfortable for both of them given the lack of foreplay, preparation, and the virtues of their surroundings, but still, Arthur feels that painful need inside of him begin to unwind as he pushes in and out of Alfred, making the other moan and squirm on the hard plastic seats.
But Arthur finds it problematic that Alfred keeps sliding back and forth on the surface, his clothed upper body lacking friction on the sticky subway seats. Whenever he tries a particular hard thrust in an attempt to dive deeper, Alfred slips away from him, preventing any further penetration.
"Damn it, Alfred, can you—t-try to hold on to something?"
Alfred uncovers his eyes and shoots him a glare, but turns his head to the side regardless, trying to find something suitable. With a little a-hah! of realization his fingers find the metal pole sprouting next to the seats and cling to it, trying to anchor himself against Arthur's thrusts. It seems to work, because the next time the Englishman pushes in, he's able to stick in Alfred deep and finally brush against the boy's prostate.
Alfred's voice buzzes a little as he speaks in moans and whines, the vibrations of the seats rattling his lungs.
"A-Artie—"
It's no longer as awkward, and if either of them is uncomfortable with the position or the location they don't realize it any longer, too caught up in the adrenaline and the extra stimulation provided.
Unusually, Alfred is the one first overwhelmed with pleasure as he comes with a spurt all over his stomach, without so much as any aid from one of his own or Arthur's hands. Even as Alfred starts to come down Arthur still continues, pushing and pulsing into him as if they were on a bullet train to Hell—-
Arthur is so caught up in the adrenaline that he hears the screeching of the metro halting through the rush in his ears too late. But he certainly feels the suddenly jolt of deceleration and his stomach plummets as he realizes what's going to happen, though by then he can't do anything to stop it.
"F-fuc—"
Arthur's last ditch attempt at a swear is cut off as he vaults up and over Alfred at the sudden stop, legs slipping off of the seats and scraping against the friction of the floor as he tries to halt his forward momentum. Pain shoots through him as his still hard dick twists in Alfred's hole until it pulls out with a disgusting pop.
Alfred, in turn, scrambles about, squeaking at the pain of Arthur being thrown forward while still inside him. He kicks Arthur off onto the floor once the older man is dislodged as he struggles up in panic and sudden shame, trying to getting into a sitting position while simultaneously attempting to pull up his pants.
Arthur smacks his arm on the edge of the seat as Alfred shoves him off, falling awkwardly to the floor, legs akimbo and member still exposed and frustratingly hard. He's dazed, rubbing his head until he hears the swoosh of the door opening and in sudden horror manages to bring up his legs and hide his revealed regions.
The older woman, clad in a maroon pantsuit and carrying a black briefcase looks at him strangely as she enters the train, but seems to shrug it off as she moves to a more clandestine seat, making Arthur sigh with relief. At least he hadn't made a total ass of himself to anybody other than Alfred.
Speaking of the boy, Arthur turns around, covering himself up with a thigh as he stuffs his still aching dick back into his pants, buttoning them back up. Alfred has his arms crossed, looking away from Arthur with a petulant expression on his flustered face.
Arthur crawls back up in the seat, wincing from the sudden sharp pain that runs from his tailbone to his neck. He gives his boyfriend a little bit of space, instead focusing on squeezing his legs together and willing the problem that had caused all this to finally go away.
After a few unsuccessful moments, Arthur tries talking: anything to distract him from the still aching part between his legs.
"Alfred—"
The boy turns to him, face still beet red, eyebrows slanted.
"That was the worst sex ever, you dickweed." He snaps, lower lip curled in a frown.
Arthur tenses, a little irked by Alfred's assertion. It hadn't seemed so bad when the boy was whining and begging him to move—
"What are you talking about? You've no reason to complain. You're the one who got to cum, idiot."
Alfred snorts and turns his head again, resting his chin on his knees and staring straight ahead, pointedly refusing to look at Arthur. The older boy sighs, crossing his legs and looking away from Alfred. They fall into a gradual silence as the train rolls and bumps further along to its destination.
The metro stops again after a few minutes, and Alfred watches as the older woman gathers her things together and leaves the train in a hurry. He waits, looking to see if any more people are lining up to get into the car, but the door slides shut, leaving him and Arthur alone again together.
He chances a glance over to where his boyfriend is sitting. Arthur isn't looking at him, so Alfred lets his eyes trace up and down the older man's figure, from his stiff spine to his uncomfortably crossed legs.
Alfred doesn't want to feel guilty, but he still does. It didn't feel fair that he'd got to cum and Arthur hadn't. Besides, Alfred was beginning to suspect that it was his little game of "footsie" earlier that had left Arthur like that in the first place. And it wasn't heroic at all to tease somebody like that and then leave them unsatisfied, was it?
"Fine," Alfred grumbles, his hero complex overwhelming his anger with Arthur as he unfolds himself and slips off the seat to his knees. Arthur's head swivels, then turns down to where Alfred has settled on the ground.
"What are you doing?"
Alfred scoots over on his knees and places both his hands on Arthur's thighs, uncrossing his legs and pulling them apart.
"You said you didn't get to cum, right?"
Now it's Arthur's turn to blush for the first time that night, as he stutters and looks away.
"How many minutes left 'til the next stop?" Alfred questions as he palms Arthur's still half-hard length through the crotch of the uniform pants.
Arthur inhales a little at the sudden touch, but keeps his eyes fixed on the LCD screen and the smatter of digital blips and numbers.
"Twenty minutes."
Arthur barely turns back quick enough to catch Alfred's smarmy grin as the younger boy unbuttons his pants and yanks them open.
"Awesome."
Hope you liked it! Read and review please!