His monster had come home shouting, seemingly in the middle of one of his tantrums. Someone had crossed him in the wrong way again. Someone was always setting him off; Arthur was used to dealing with it by now. After all, a demon will do as he do, whether it be in the face of a coward or in front of the King of Hell himself.
Luckily, it hadn't taken very long for Arthur to subdue his lover. He'd only had to scratch his master once to get him to shut up. He'd have to pay for it later, he knew, but it was worth it to stop all that whining. Arthur had wrapped him up in the plush blankets of the King's bed, stopped his thrashing about without having to use the handcuffs, and had even managed to cuddle up to his King after a few moments of letting him calm down.
Demons didn't love. And even if they did, Alfred wouldn't let him. He was a stupid, annoying brat; the horrible boy King of Hell. Arthur wouldn't let himself love someone like that. And yet, he pressed closer and closer under the sheets.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Arthur asked quietly, his hair tickling Alfred's neck.
"No," Alfred huffed, obviously sulking. Arthur rolled his eyes. He let another moment pass, and the disdain for his King soon passed too. Alfred was awfully irresistible. Arthur began to rub small circles into his lover's chest.
"Well, if you feel like it, let me know." His voice was barely above a whisper.
The King of Hell adjusted himself on the bed, momentarily uncomfortable. He glanced at Arthur. Arthur noticed and met his gaze. Almost instinctively, the smaller of the two demons leaned in. Shiny, sharp teeth gleaming behind parted red lips. A moment of hesitation between them.
Alfred gently pushed at Arthur's right shoulder. "It's okay," he murmured quickly. "L-Let's just do what we were doing before."
Arthur stared at him. "… What?" He finally asked, smirking. "You mean, just lying here?" And suddenly, Alfred's face was a brighter shade of red than Arthur's hair. Arthur thought that the blush looked stupid against the black hues of his hair. The beautiful sky blues in his eyes. The gorgeous tan skin of his once sun-kissed face. Arthur's expression quickly fell.
"Yeah. And, um, with the rubbing," Alfred managed, stumbling over his speech. "I liked that." He refused to meet Arthur's eyes.
"Oh." Arthur didn't know what else to say. "Okay."
He eventually settled back into the sheets. He started to rub Alfred's chest again in small, comforting circles. Alfred eventually moved to rest his arm around Arthur's shoulders. Arthur tried not to pay attention to it.
Demons didn't love. And even if they did, Alfred wouldn't let him. He was a lovely, stupid, charming, annoying brat; the horribly endearing boy King of Hell. Arthur wouldn't let himself love someone like that. And yet, he pressed closer and closer under the sheets.