Only Missing a Curse
As far as sleeping beauties went, Alfred was most certainly not one. Not a beauty at least. Somewhere while reading the last Harry Potter book (Alfred claimed it was the only good thing to come out of England), Alfred had fallen asleep. The book was spread out on his chest, the pages crumpling.
Matthew sighed, mumbling to himself as he cleaned up after his guest, shutting off the radio, the tv, and the lights. The afternoon sunlight played on Alfred's bare arms, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal the flat golden plane of his stomach.
Without knowing it, Matthew licked his lips and drifted closer. Alfred was beautiful, it was true. As a sleeping beauty, maybe if he was under a curse... Perhaps, to just taste. Maybe to kiss. Alfred breathed deeply, steadily, calmly. One arm rested behind his head, the other flung over the edge of the sofa.
Just one little kiss couldn't possibly hurt. One kiss, just like in a fairy tale, even if he had to be the prince. And perhaps Alfred would wake up and blink at him beautifully, smile blurrily and mumble something before falling back asleep. He was so vulnerable while sleeping.
Gently, Matthew removed the novel, placing it on the side table. Alfred shifted, hair tossed about his face, the shadow of stubble on his chin. He grinned even in his sleep, an endearing sight, probably dreaming of saving the world as usual.
Matthew leaned over, close enough to smell him, close enough to smell the perfume of apple blossoms and windy summer nights that clung to his skin. From here, his blonde eye lashes, nearly translucent, fanned out over his cheeks. His turned up nose, his smooth tanned cheeks, his entire face relaxed and surreal.
Alfred's breaths burst from between his parted lips in huffs, warm on Matthew's cheeks, distracting him. His mouth, dry and inviting.... He nearly begged to be kissed. Matthew leaned forward the last few inches, pressing their mouths together, feeling the softness of Alfred, the taste of apples that overwhelmed all else.
Blushing madly, Matthew prepared to step back, fingers stroking Alfred's cheek, just to see how it felt. Alfred didn't move, sleeping just as peacefully, as beautifully as ever. He realized he could linger, watch Alfred sleep, touch his hair and whisper confessions in his ear. But he wasn't brave enough. The stolen kiss still lingered, tingling.
"Love you." He mumbled, ready to turn away, ready to forget about the entire thing, even if the kiss would be burned into his mind, even if he would lay awake thinking of the flawlessness of it. He gasped as his hand was caught and he was tugged back, landing gracelessly on top of Alfred who grinned at him mischievously.
"You were gonna leave before seeing if the princess woke up?" He tangled his fingers in Matthew's hair, bringing him up for another kiss. Their mouths melded together, gentle, soft and unforgettably delicious. The rightness of the moment was tangible. Matthew moaned softly, relaxing as Alfred's arms wrapped around him.
When Alfred let him go, his cheeks were stained red, breathing hard, and he couldn't bring himself to look in the perfection of those blue eyes. Beneath his fingers, Alfred's heart raced, alive and real and his to own, his skin smooth and golden. Perhaps, if he could just give Alfred his heart, and Alfred would give him his? Was it too much to ask for?
Alfred laughed softly at his excitement. At his wonder. But it was an innocent laugh that he delighted in. His fingers continued to comb through his hair, pressing little kisses on his closed eyelids, on his temple, his forehead, his nose. His arms were strong and perfect. All of Alfred was perfect.
If perhaps this would happen every time Alfred was asleep, he wouldn't mind playing the part of the prince at all, regardless of how embarrassing it was.
Owari