Kiku shuffled about the castle, his face creased with worry and anxiety. He tried busing himself with helping the servants in the kitchen with cooking the rather large meal for an upcoming occasion, such an occasion was the reason for the melancholic mood practically dripping off the young Japanese man and dampering everyone else's emotions who came into contact with him. The Asian prince was kicked out of the kitchen with as much politeness a servant could use without sounding too forceful or rude, and sent elsewhere among their vast home.

He was now seated in a rather large, plush chair fashioned from ivory and the seat and backing covered in a deep patterned crimson, its pale legs had been carved into imitations of an animals each with large, sharpened claws curling protectively around a smooth orb. The room the small, dark haired Asian was in was filled to the brim with extravagant tables encrusted with gold and fine jewels that shone with the flickering of the fire in the large fireplace of jade, a large dragon jutting out, head turned toward and whiskers floating out at the fire, blacked from frequent use. There were large bookshelves of gilded wood all adorning leather clad books of all sizes, some worn with age and other glowing softly against the warmth of the fire's constant fluttering of oranges and yellows.

Kiku wasn't focused on the book in his lap, merely looking at the page, his eyes trained on one spot. The beating muscle in his chest which once felt so much joy and felt lighter than the feathers the exotic birds that inhabit the lush forests surrounding the castle inhabited, but now felt swollen not with pride or happiness, but with sorrow. His entire chest ached, but the source being the only thing keeping him alive, controlling the ever flow of blood that was supplied to his body. His eyes stung with the beginnings of tears, but years of training that started back when he was barely a boy kept them at bay, his fingers tightened on the sides of the book. His older brother was going to be married soon, to a young, exuberant man of a faraway kingdom.

It was a political marriage, not out of love, but of social duty. But that didn't stop the pain and betrayal he felt.

He was in love with the other prince and the prince him. They had met during a political meeting discussing the two kingdom's rivalry, the two leaving their father's to their bickering to stroll through the garden, unknown to either that such a marriage would come as a solution to their father's feud.

They grew closer to each other after that, meeting together under a blossoming cherry tree in the center of the garden when the blonde prince wasn't busy and was, of course, visiting for months at a time. They spoke of trivial things, life at opposing countries, books they had read (or rather, he had read, as his blonde love doesn't fancy reading), and soon, the two developed a small relationship. Friendly kisses on the cheek and the occasional holding of hands morphed into shy kisses and soft caresses and finally ended with Kiku being pressed up against the trunk of the cherry tree with his mouth being plundered by the taller prince, hands searching...

Kiku turned his head into the side of the fauteuil styled chair, desperately trying to hide the wetness on his cheeks, as if books could mock him for his lack of self control. Tomorrow his brother would be wed and his love would be chained to his side, for all eternity. The velvety feel of the divan was warm, it reminded him of the blonde's touch, how he would hold him against his chest with his strong arms, cradling him while a hand stoked his cheek and just thinking that almost made him sob into the cushion.

Although it was not unheard of a king to have several mistresses, the dark haired Japanese man could never do that do his brother. He loved his brother dearly and he would not ruin his chance at happiness, nor would he hold his love back. They would be married, fall in love and live happily ever after, like in the stories his mother would read to him before bed. But the thought did nothing to soothe the ache in his chest or the small tremors that wracked his delicate frame as he cradled the now closed book up to his chest.

He had received a note the night before, from the blonde prince, begging to meet him here before nightfall and ending with words of love shakily written and in some spaces, scratched out in heavy, black ink.

But it was past sundown and well into the night, he was beginning to worry that his love had stood him up in turn for his groom-to-be. He could almost imagine them, in each others arms laughing about how they had fooled him, at how he was waiting for something that would never come.

But then, the sound of a heavy door being pushed open made him quickly wipe at his eyes and stand up, causing the book to fall onto the intricate Persian rug.

"A-Alfred-san, y-you came.!"

Said blonde shut the door with some difficulty and locked it, rushing over to his Asian lover, "Of course! I wouldn't just not show up! I'm a man of my word, it's just that your father was giving me some...marital advice," He spoke in a mock offended tone which formed into guilt with his last words, feeling awkward now that he had mentioned something that was something of a taboo that had formed with the two of them, "I'm sorry Kiku...I didn't mea-"

"Don't be silly, Alfred-san, it was I who faulted you. It is your wedding after all."

Kiku wiped lazily at his eyes, pushing himself from Alfred's hold and smiling weakly, "I'm sorry, you shouldn't...you should be with your fiancé, not with his younger brother..."

Holding back a choke, but not succeeding, Kiku held a hand over his mouth and shutting his eyes tight, letting the tears run freely now.

"Kiku..."

Then suddenly he was sitting in the large chair again, warm hands on his shoulders and a mouth against his, parting it with ease.

I would never hold against you, Alfred, never you.

Those warms hands left burning trails down his now bare skin, and Kiku could find that his own hands were undressing the blonde in a hurried desperation, seeking out the man's chest and feeling down his stomach.

How long has it been that I refrained from touching you?

The blonde twisted and pinched at his nipples until they were pert, erect nubs and then he bent over and Kiku nearly cried at the feel of the other man's mouth on his chest, over his neck, his jawline, back down his chest pausing to nip at his hardened nubs. His hands were nestled safely in the blonde's hair, silently tugging him to another area but the prince wouldn't have that, instead sticking with his sensual attack on his chest and lower stomach until he had Kiku groaning for him to go on.

Then his aching member was released from its confines and he sighed in relief, releasing the other's hair to undo his pants, slipping them off with ease. His mind was jumbled and his body was hot and aching for his lover, pulling the man against him until their hardened arousals rubbed against each other.

"Alfred..."

He moaned loudly, his head thrashing from side to side, they had never been this intimate before, always stopping before it got too heated, always sticking to lust filled kisses. But never this. Never had he felt like this, so utterly wanton and writhing under the blonde's touch. Trying to hold in gasps and moans were hard, until Alfred told him not to, that he wanted to hear him. So he let him, no longer hiding his cries and found himself chanting Alfred's name over and over.

Then Alfred was preparing him, three fingers stretching him with such gentle care that he could help but cry against his shoulder, knowing that after tonight, Alfred would never be his again. The blonde whispered into his ear words of reassurance and promises that he knew would, could never be filled, as he was breached with something larger than the blonde's fingers and much more painful. But he welcomed the pain, wrapping his legs around the prince's waist, and forcefully burying the man's member within him.

It hurt, it hurt so badly. He was already crying before so he hoped Alfred wouldn't notice and he begged him to move, the stinging in his ass could be overlooked as long as Alfred could feel pleasure. He should be the one in pain anyways, for the position they were in, for stealing his brother's husband before they had even met. But the look in Alfred's large, bright cerulean orbs told him he wasn't going to move anytime soon.

"Does it hurt?"

Please don't do this.

"I'll wait until it stops okay?"

I don't deserve your kind words or your love. Please just hurt me, for I fear that's all my heart can take.

"Please just move, Alfred...Please..."

He was ashamed of his voice, so weak and broken. But he was thankful that Alfred did move, the pain intensifying when Alfred all but pounded into him. The look on Alfred's face was worth it, his beautiful gold locks clumped together and sticking to his cheeks, his face contorted in passion and his near-closed eyes brimming with love.

But pain turned into please and he tried his best to hide his pleasure-filled noises, they had never been this intimate before, always stopping before it got too heated, always sticking to lust filled kisses. But never this. Never had he felt like this, so utterly wanton and writhing under the blonde's touch. Trying to hold in gasps and moans were hard, until Alfred told him not to, that he wanted to hear him. So he let him, no longer hiding his cries and found himself chanting Alfred's name over and over as the blonde thrust into him without abandon.

Then Alfred was pumping his weeping arousal in time with their thrusts and soon, neither could hold back and they both released with the other's names being cried out.

"I love you so much Kiku," Alfred was resting his head on his shoulder, both curled up on the large chair, the blonde's hands stoking his sides.

"Ashiteru, Alfred."

He knew in the morning, Alfred would be gone, leaving him alone in the middle of the night to escape to his room; but he was pleased. He was glad they had this one night together, if they weren't going to ever again. But he would still love him, even if he grew to love his brother instead.

"Ashiteru Alfred"

He repeated and nuzzled the man's neck, breathing in his musk-filled, sweaty scent and let his eyes drift shut, sleep claiming him.

I love you Alfred.

Okay, all done! This was an art trade with SylasCyanide145 on deviantArt, she wrote me DenSu *-* and I wrote her angsty, lemon AmeriPan. So, I hope you and she likes it! I hope this was angsty...

Damn, I hate how long this is and yet my story is so short...

Review please!