Arthur sighed as he sipped at his cup of tea. It was that time of year… or close to it… only a few hours away and everyone would be expected to show up on Alfred's doorstep with the biggest possible present they could find complete with a big red bow on blue and white wrapping.
However… Arthur was presented with a problem… he didn't have a present. So upon finishing his tea, he looked at the clock.
09:01 pm… not too late. Maybe he could see what he could find at one of the late night stores.
Quickly washing his tea cup, he grabbed his jacket and his wallet, walking out the door and calling the taxi to take him downtown.
Because of the time of year, he was staying in a flat in Washington. He, among other nations, learned that it was better to have flats in the countries they spent more time in, and in other countries that they rarely visited, just pay for a hotel room. Because America was one of the most influential nations of the world, it only made sense that Arthur would have a flat there.
About half an hour later, he was downtown, the place at a constant buzz no matter the time. These people, he thought, have no sense of time nor decency. But tonight he wouldn't complain as he found it all too convenient and he found himself going from store to store, searching for a gift that would please the American.
Eventually he did find it.
It was a model aeroplane. Dr Fokker No. 1… an old World War Two fighter jet, one of the first to have guns. It was a Nazi jet, but it didn't matter. Alfred had a collection of models like this in his study, not that Arthur would ever admit to wandering into the American's study. But this little model, brightly painted red with crucifix decorations and the white tail, an exact replica of the giant original that had been shot down in Australia, would be perfect.
The owner had painted it so, so that his enemies and adversaries would seem him a mile away. It wasn't meant to give himself away, more or less it was to give them something incredible and frightful to see in their final moments.
How did that suit Alfred? Well, he always wanted to be the centre of attention didn't he…? He wanted to be the first person you saw enter the room, and the last to leave. That's why. Checking his watch, he couldn't help but smile. He hadn't been aware he'd been wandering around for so long, and it had been Alfred's birthday for the past three minutes.
Deciding to be annoying for once, he called the cab to go to Alfred's house. If the American slept through his knocking then he'd leave the present on the door.
The 4th of July was awkward for him anyway, especially around Alfred.
When the cabbie pulled up outside Alfred's house, painted pristinely white with a red tiled roof and old black Victorian style door and windows, Arthur paid the fare and the yellow taxi drove off. He'd call another one if he was in dire need.
Walking up to the door, he rapped his knuckles on the wooden surface lightly, the cold air making the light impact on his skin sting just a little. There was no answer.
He tried again. Same thing. Well it was 12:24am… the sod was probably asleep. So he was kneeling down to begin arranging the present so Alfred would discover it in the morning without stepping on it, when he heard music.
The Englishman frowned, looking around, unsure as to where it was coming from. And after much inspection, he was ninety-nine percent certain that it was coming from within Alfred's house.
Frowning, he stood straight and took the handle, turning it and finding it was unlocked, at the stupidity of its owner, and the door creaked softly as it opened.
"Alfred…?" Arthur spoke softly as he held the plane model close. There was no reply, so he stepped inside, closing the door behind him and locking it. He slid his shoes off out of habit from visiting Kiku so often, and he began to creep along silently. He stepped into the kitchen, which was empty and unlit.
But through the next two openings he could see a flickering light, like that of the flame of a lone candle, and curiously, stepped forwards, leaving the present on the polished granite kitchen bench.
Through one doorway, the faint light grew brighter. And he stopped in the entrance of the second doorway. There was the candle, sitting on top of a white grand piano. It had always been there, but Arthur suspected for merely intelligence décor.
Yet sitting there, playing by candlelight with his back to the door, was Alfred. Each finger slid across the keys, barely pressing down in any noticeable way, like he was stroking silk or the skin of a lover. Each note rang out iridescently, piercing the air.
Arthur was so caught up in these few short seconds of intro, that he had to clasp his hand to his mouth when the other began to sing softly. He hadn't expected it, but Alfred's voice was incredible and breathtaking, but it made his heart ache at the same time, like a heavy sadness dripped off of each note and word.
You and I were friends from outer space
Afraid to let go
The only 2 who understood this place
And so far as we know
We were way before our time
As bold as we were blind
Just another perfect mistake
Another bridge to take
On the way of letting go,
This Ain't Goodbye
It is just the way love goes
But where's that woman now, to keep away the cold
This ain't goodbye
It's Not where our story ends
But I know you can't be mine, not the way you always been
As long as we've got time
Then this ain't goodbye
Oh no, this ain't goodbye
We were stars up in the sunlit sky
No one else could see
Neither of else ever thought to ask why
It wasn't meant to be
Maybe we were way too high
To ever understand
Baby we were victims of all the foolish plans
We began to divide
But this ain't goodbye
This is just the way love goes
But where's the woman now to keep way the cold, oh no
This ain't goodbye
It's not where our story ends
But I know you can't be mine
Just like the way you've always been
As long as we got time,
This ain't good bye,
Oh no, this ain't good bye, oh, oh, oh no this ain't goodbye
This ain't goodbye
You and I were friends from outer space
Afraid to let go
The only two who understood this place
And as far as we know
This ain't goodbye
Oh no this ain't goodbye
This ain't goodbye oh no this ain't goodbye
This ain't goodbye
It's just the way love goes
But where's that woman now, to keep away the cold, oh no,
This ain't goodbye
This isn't where the story ends
But I know you can't be mine
Like the way you've always been
This ain't goodbye
Arthur, found himself absolutely enchanted, hanging off each and every word. When the final note rang out from the piano, the crystalline sound resonating through the air, Arthur clapped his hands together.
Alfred didn't jump, like he'd known Arthur had been there all along, lowering his head slightly as the candle flame flickered in a breeze and died.
"Alfred… that was amazing…" Arthur exclaimed.
"… How long have you been standing there?" The American asked, not moving or acknowledging the compliment.
The brightness of Arthur's smile dimmed, and his hands dropped to his sides.
"Long enough… I came to say happy birthday…"
"A little early isn't it…?"
"I know… but I thought it would make for a nice surprise… It turns out I'm the one who was surprised… You never told me you could play the piano or sing…"
Alfred paused, frowning a little before closing the smooth and polished lid over the keys. "Would there have been any point…? It's something personal…"
Quite suddenly, Arthur felt like an intruder. At the mention of it as 'something personal', he felt like he was invading Alfred's private life.
"I-I'm sorry... I should go anyway… your present is on the kitchen bench if you wanted to know." Arthur turned to leave. Questions buzzed through his mind. Why was music so personal if he sung so sadly… It was like a pure untainted sorrow… and it caused an ache within Arthur.
Only having taken a few short steps, he stopped and leant against the frame of the entrance he had been standing by, sighing sadly. He thought he knew why…
"Aren't you leaving…?" Alfred asked, looking over his shoulder at the back of the Britt. Those three words sparked an angry flame in Arthur and he turned swiftly, stepping briskly up to Alfred, attempting to punch him, but the American was on his feet and caught his wrist just short of his face. "Jesus Christ Arthur, calm down."
"Calm down? Don't tell me to bloody calm down!"
Punch after punch was aimed at the American's face, and time and time again he blocked and defected the smaller hands. Until once, he missed and Arthur's fist slid past in one fluid motion, connecting with the side of his jaw and he stumbled, stepping back and tripping on the leg of the piano stall and falling backwards, landing on his arse. Texas had fallen off of his face, landing on the cream carpet and skittering aside.
No longer hidden by wire frames and glass panes, Arthur could see blue eyes, drowning him in sorrow, hurt and shock… the same eyes had engulfed him when a small boy had seen him at his worst… and it was those eyes that watched him crumble as the boy before him became a man.
At loss for what to say or do, Arthur hid his face in his hands, tears following in great torrents as he choked out sobs like a young child.
He barely heard the movement as Alfred rose to his feet, hesitantly reaching out before pulling him into his chest, wrapping his arms around the sobbing male.
"Shh… I'm sorry Arthur… I really am…"
Arthur turned his face, hiding it in Alfred's shirt, tears staining the grey cotton. What was the American apologizing for? Everything…? Nothing…? Maybe for being rude moments ago… Maybe for today being the day it was…
But that apology meant so much in that moment. And the voice behind the words was warm and rich, driving them into his very soul, or so it seemed.
After a while, his sobbing ceased, tears drying up and he merely closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, breathing in the scent of Alfred's cologne… it was faint, barely there as it had been applied hours before…
He listened to the heartbeat… great rolling beats like wild thunder or the wild mustangs that thundered through valleys and plains.
He felt the young, scarred hands rub circles in the small of his back or the gentle fingers immerse in his hair.
Oh, how he could stay that way forever, feeling perpetually safe in this embrace.
After a time, he looked up at the younger, resting his chin on the other's chest. Alfred looked at him, without the light of the candle or his glasses, what he saw was not very clear. But he offered a small smile. "Will you dance with me, Arthur?"
The shorter blonde blinked, surprise flickering across his features.
"… Dance…?"
"Yeah… just, something slow and relaxed."
"Um… okay…" The American smiled and stepped away, leaving Arthur there as he attended to a stereo, slotting in a CD and choosing the track number, hitting play.
The sound of strong, soulful notes of another piano filled the air, the volume soft so that it wasn't blaring. Alfred came back and took Arthur's hand, resting his spare one in the small of Arthur's back. Biting his bottom lip softly, Arthur raised his other hand on Alfred's shoulder. And then slowly, Alfred guided them into a dance, like the kind where it was mainly swaying from side to side in a gentle like motion.
Arthur relaxed once more into the feel as the artist of the song sang his own words, though it was a mere dull hum in the background, and he rested his head on Alfred's shoulder, staring off into space.
I heard there was a secret chord
That David played
And it pleased the lord
But you don't really care for music do you
Arthur blinked… He felt a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head. But he didn't move at all, not even to inspect. And in his own reply, pressed his lips to Alfred's shoulder.
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Halleluuuujaaa….
Alfred tilted his face up and hesitated, white teeth dragging across his own bottom lip in a small moment of doubt, before he leant forward and slid his lips along Arthur's. It was slow and amounted with time into a crushing, heated kiss.
She tied you to the kitchen chair
She broke your throne
She cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Arthur felt the warm hands, younger but broader than his own, slide under his shirt, dragging the material up and over his head, his torso exposed, small goose bumps following those hands in a pleasant trail. Alfred's own top half became exposed and Arthur moved his mouth away from the taller male's, kissing down along his neck and to his smooth chest where the light kisses breathed out across his skin like the wings of a butterfly.
And so it was
The fourth
The fifth
The major fall
The minor lift
The baffled king
Supposed hallelujah
The song faded out of their minds, and they didn't even notice when it changed. Their bodies shook with desires they'd never known to be there or had never admitted even to themselves. Arthur breathed out shakily as Alfred's hands ran up and down his sides, raising his own arms up slightly and wrapping them around the American's neck.
His legs felt like jelly at the moment and he was afraid he might just… fall down…
Alfred worked swiftly, hands and fingers deft as he removed the Englishman's belt, undoing the zip to the tailored slacks, the painstakingly ironed pants falling to the ground at their feet in a crumpled heap.
Alfred's jeans joined them soon after, as well as their boxers. He pulled the smaller male over to the piano bench, stumbling a little as he rested the flat of his palm on the lid over the keys to brace both of their weight as he sat down. Even with blurred vision, his darkened, hungry eyes wandered over every bit of the Englishman that was exposed… Within moments, said man was kneeling over him, leg either side of him.
Arthur looked down between them, blushing at the contrast of his stark pale skin from too much time inside, on rainy days in a rainy country. Every inch of Alfred seemed to be tanned, and those nudist beaches came to mind, not really helping the situation of embarrassment.
But it didn't really matter as Alfred's hands were at his waist, holding him firmly, his own hands on the warm, broad shoulders. He let go with one hand, hesitating, before reaching down between them, grasping the American's manhood, stroking it a few times which earned him a gasp, before he lined it up with his unprepared entrance.
A final shiver of nervousness ran up and down his spine before he lowered himself. The head of the larger erection pushed past the tight ring of muscle, painfully but in a sense of finality, the hot walls of the smaller man's insides encasing the member in a deliciously hot way.
Arthur stopped taking him in at about half way, but childlike impatience made the American grasp the slender waist firmly and he pulled him down. The other yelped as the rest of Alfred's erection was pushed up inside of him, all the way until the skin of his ass was pressed against the younger's waist.
A light curse slipped between Arthur's lips and Alfred's groan rang in his ears. Suddenly it became increasingly apparent to whom he was with and what he was doing with that person. A spark of pleasured joy burst in his heart, and biting his bottom lip, he didn't wait too much longer before raising himself and falling down again. It was slow and sloppy at first, having gone dry and without preparation. But after a minute or two, it got easier as forming sweat and pre-cum formed a natural lubricant.
Even if every movement sent a wave or jolt of pleasure through them, and the pacing and method of rise and fall had improved, the conditions weren't really that well thought out. Alfred ended up leaning back on the piano for support and better leverage. But the edge of the lid was digging into his back and with each movement, he was pushed further against it.
And a narrow piano bench wasn't exactly ideal either. Arthur kept slipping and having to slow to a halt to regain balance and start over.
"… Arthur… l-look… we gotta figure out a better way to do this…" Alfred said as the other was forced to stop for a fifth time.
The smaller blonde shook slightly and nodded. "Y-Yeah… I think that'd be a good idea."
They worked themselves apart, both feeling unsated and cheated as Alfred slipped out of Arthur. Both still agonisingly hard, Alfred helped Arthur to his feet and as soon as the smaller became vertical, he felt something wet run down the inside of his leg. No blush was capable of being redder, but neither said anything.
Leaving the items of clothing where they lay, Alfred led Arthur up the staircase to his room, And despite having just begun to have sex with Alfred, he was still shy about everything possible as he climbed up onto the bed followed closely by Alfred.
Alfred too this opportunity to pull Arthur close to him, locking his mouth of the smaller man's.
And Arthur surrendered to it, letting the younger pull him in to it, controlling his mind and body.
The kiss was sweet and warmed them both up. After a prolonged few seconds, Alfred pulled back softly and cupped his cheek. "Do you want to try again…?"
Arthur bit his lip, looking to the side for a moment before meeting Alfred's eyes with his own and nodding. "yes… I want to…"
They kissed again before Alfred helped the Englishman onto his hands and knees. Using a pillow to rest his head on, Arthur blushed as he moved from his hands to his elbows which Al had said might make it a little more comfortable.
Closing his eyes, the smaller waited, a coil of anticipation moving up his spine when he felt Alfred's hands at his waist.
Alfred positioned his erection at Arthur's arse hole again, pushing back in to that heat with a gratuitous groan, going in to the hilt much easier this way. He shuddered as Arthur's on sounds and gasps rang in his ear. He didn't wait too long before he pulled out, the ring of muscle tightening around the head of his penis. And when he pushed back in, his waist moved up against the other's arse cheeks.
The rhythm was set and it went on… It only changed when Arthur begged him to go harder… go faster… He pounded harder and faster into the other's throbbing heat, digging as deep as he could until he found it, slamming into the smaller man's prostate.
"O-Oh god, Alfred!" Arthur moaned loudly covering his face with the pillow to obscure the moans he let loose. He was desperate for his release and the deep heavy breaths of the man behind him made it clear he was close.
Balancing himself on only one elbow, he reached down between his body and the sheets and caught hold of his own erection. With each thrust Alfred gave, his body jolted forwards, pushing his member along through the tight casing of his fingers and palm. He moaned loudly and began to pump in time with Alfred's thrusts.
He was close, oh so close…
And then without any warning he exploded in his hand, hot white bursting forth, splashing onto the sheets and his stomach, one drop landing on his cheek. He screamed into the pillow.
Alfred groaned, clenching his teeth together as he pressed into the other's hole again and again… the muscles grew tighter around his erection and he came deep within Arthur.
They remained in that position for a while, shuddering softly in the aftermath of their release… But Alfred removed himself from Arthur, letting himself fall into the mattress with a contented sigh. Arthur looked at him and inched over to him before collapsing beside him, resting his head on his the American's chest. The younger blonde smiled a little and wrapped his arms around his old mentor, running his fingers through the spiky light blond hair.
"… Love you, Arthur…"
Arthur blushed, closing his eyes, because he was too tired to hide his face, and the child like logic of 'If I can't see you, you can't see me' seemed to make more sense than anything at the moment.
"… You don't mean that…" The older of the two whispered.
"What? Are you kidding… I mean it… I really do…" Alfred caught Arthur's chin and tilted his face up so that he could look at him in the eye. "Arthur Kirkland… I love you… And… I'm begging you to believe me…"
Arthur opened his eyes, looking at the man who had just claimed him. He traced every facial feature with his eyes. The strong jaw, cheekbones just visible with a childlike softness to his cheeks… Jewel blue eyes staring at him… warm lips parted slightly with the remnants of his declaration hanging off of them.
Arthur didn't say anything… but he summed it up with a simple kiss, pressing his own lips to the American's.
/
They had fallen asleep not long after that. It was about 2am when they finally did… and later, around eight thirty, Alfred woke up, feeling hungry. Not wanting to wake the other up, he carefully manoeuvred them so that he could slide out of bed without disturbing the smaller man.
He pulled on some tracksuit pants and made his way down to the kitchen where he started rummaging through the fridge, pulling out some left over pizza. It was his birthday after all…
He began to eat it slowly , in thought, when he saw it on the bench.
It was the present Arthur had brought over. Smiling like a curious child, he peeked up the stairs.
No movement… perfect.
He chuckled and walked over to the present, setting his plate of cold pizza on the bench as he inspected the gift. Instinct told him to shake it, but something else warned him not to. So being particularly careful, he began to tear away the paper. And before he knew it, there was a shiny red model aeroplane before him, ready to be built. But the picture on the box clearly said what it was and what it would look like.
Smiling, he peeked up the stairs again before picking up the box and holding it close like it was a teddy bear he'd gotten for Christmas.
"Best… Birthday… Ever…"
/
Whoo! Finally! All done!