For Kizanami:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! !
hope u like this fic that i should've finished centuries ago and i ended up forgetting what u requested but i had some written so i nailed it, so sorry Mimi alsdnfaklsdnflakdjfn xD
I still don't know how to title :\
Not beta-ed.
Alfred had come back from his business trip wanting nothing more but to be received by his Queen with a kiss.
That wasn't what he received at all. Instead, his, oh so delightful, Queen didn't even saw him as he proceeded on his merry way while talking with Afonso of all people!
And, before he even had any say in the matter, Yao came by, pulling him on the opposite direction, ignoring whatever complain fell from his lips as he talked about more work and work and work, did Yao ever stop?!
Alfred sighed tiredly, glancing back once in a while, trying to spot that messy head of blond hair, but nothing.
"You'll have time to rest later, we have many, many things to do. Please, your highness, cooperate."
"But—"
"No."
Thud.
The door closed and Alfred stared at it for a few moments, pout present on his face even as he quietly sat down on his chair, staring at the door, waiting for Yao to come back and free him from this nightmare that was called work.
He waited.
Just a few seconds.
Maybe minutes.
Nothing.
Alfred's face connected with the desk, a groan sounding from his defeated form. The King bit his lip, teeth gritting as he remembered that he had been ignored by his Queen who had been talking with Afonso.
Afonso Luís Salazar, their Ace, Arthur's childhood friend... And before Alfred had come along, the two had been dating. It didn't last long since, from what Arthur told him, they worked better as just friends. Of course, that didn't settle well with Alfred, even if he trusted the Brit, who knew if the Portuguese wasn't still in love with his Queen?
Why was Arthur talking to him so much lately anyway? Even before he left he knew Arthur had been talking to him.
Alfred felt rage coursing through his body at the thought of what might have happened while he had been in Hearts. That damn Portuguese bastard...
His rage fuelled him and he finished his work in a matter of minutes, of course, being angry while working wasn't the best to do. Hot headed decisions are far from good, but at the moment, Alfred just wanted to get rid of work and swoop in to take away his Queen for the rest of the day and night... and the rest of his life.
The King stood up from his seat, stomping on the floor as he walked out the door. This time not even Yao could keep him away from seeing his Queen.
Alfred finally found the duo in the garden after almost an hour of searching the fucking huge palace. Why didn't he think of this place before anyway?! It would've spared him a lot of time; the sun was starting to set.
He saw the two sitting on one of the benches near the fountain, they seemed to be having a nice conversation from what Alfred was observing from his spot in some bushes behind them.
Alfred was fuming, glaring daggers at the back of Afonso's head. If looks could kill... Alfred would have committed many murders by now.
He couldn't quite hear what they talked about, but just the sight of his Queen smiling and laughing, an adorable light blush on his cheeks while conversing with the Portuguese man was enough to make him want to strangle the other. He rarely put that kind of expression on Arthur's face although he tried.
Yet... Here he was being so open and carefree. Alfred felt his stomach twisting, his heart clenching, his face contorting into a scowl as the very known green-eyed monster tugged at him.
Alfred wasn't a very logical person (most of the time), he would always take action before thinking it through. When he wanted to do something, he would do it. Perhaps he would be reckless and impulsive sometimes, but most of the time he got what he wanted, the way he wanted, so.
"I can't fucking believe you, bloody wanker— Put me down!"
"No." Alfred stubbornly replied, ignoring Arthur's shrieks, hits and kicks as he walked to their bedroom. Arthur was slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. A screaming sack of potatoes.
"Why the bloody hell not!?"
"Because." He took a turn. They were almost reaching their bedroom now. Alfred didn't offer a continuation, simply remaining quiet the whole way while Arthur was demanding an answer.
The King threw his Queen on the bed and climbed right after him, staring down at Arthur while said man stared up at him, eyes narrowed.
"Alfred, for fucks' sake, what was all this for—?!" The Queen wrinkled his nose in distaste, looking more than ready to shove Alfred of him and go back to his happy chatting with Afonso.
Alfred growled lowly before his sour expression slowly turned into a pout, "You're getting too close to that Portuguese bastard and I don't like it!" He whined, untying Arthur's bowtie and placing it on the bed close to him.
"W-What—?"
Alfred ignored the other's shriek, busily trying to take off his Queen's clothes.
"O-Oi— Stop this!"
"You're my Queen, Artie. Mine." He stated. With all the struggle Arthur put up, he only managed to push his coat till his elbows, "Yet, once I come home, where is my Queen to receive me?" He inquired, feeling Arthur tense and pause in his squirming.
The King took advantage of the Brit's momentary stillness and, practically, ripped off the Queen's clothes. Which immediately set Arthur to struggle once more and try to push him off.
"I-Idiot!"
"My sweet Queen was talking with his old ex-boyfriend, his dear childhood friend..." His mood was darkening with each word, "While I was dragged into my office to do more work." Alfred growled, Arthur trembled beneath him, gazing up at him with wide green eyes. He had missed looking at those eyes.
Arms wrapped around the King's neck and pulled him down into a brief kiss.
"I'm sorry, love. I lost track of time... I feel a tad lonely without you around... So I invited Afonso to come spend some days while you went away." Arthur explained, a dark blush settling on his cheeks as he looked to the side.
Alfred still wasn't going to forgive him. Yet. He would need much more than a few kisses from his dear Queen.
"Oh, I'm sorry, but just this won't suffice now. I missed you very much and I'm going to take my whole fill tonight." Alfred said with a smirk, eyes roaming through the expanse of skin that was already exposed, the clothes being thrown somewhere in the room.
The King reached for the ribbon that Arthur used to do his bowtie and then turned the Brit onto his stomach, bringing his arms around his back despite Arthur's attempts at fighting him off.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?!"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" The American asked back, tightening the ribbon on Arthur's forearms.
"It bloody looks like you're tying me up, you wanker!"
"Ah. So you know what I'm doing." Alfred said cheekily, a finger trailing up Arthur's spine lightly making the Brit writhe and arch his back. He then started stripping Arthur off his shoes, trousers and underwear, having to avoid a few kicks. His Queen sure was stubborn.
But, tonight, he wasn't going to escape him. He would have his full attention, no matter what. Clubs could start a war against Spades and Alfred would still rather have the whole night with his Queen than anything else.
"Git, stop that!"
"Don't wanna."
Alfred reached into his pocket and took out a special bottle of lube that the Queen of Hearts had given him. He spread some on his fingers, a grin forming on his face. He was going to enjoy tonight thoroughly...
The King looked down at his Queen laying on the bed, trying in vain to get rid of his restraint, but that piece of clothing wouldn't break that easily. The American chuckled.
"Tonight, I'll have your full attention, my Queen." He purred, his blue eyes darkening. One of his hands spread Arthur's asscheeks and then his lubed one started rubbing at his entrance teasingly, smearing the lube all around and then trailing down and up again...
He could feel Arthur trembling in anticipation, he was definitely paying attention to him now, not anyone else. Just him. Alfred smirked, ignoring his Queen's pants and soft gasps. Alfred knew what he wanted, but he wasn't going to do it just yet. The King wanted his Queen to ask for him. Beg, plead...
"Alfred..." Arthur whined, rocking back his hips against the fingers, but Alfred pushed him down, not letting him move.
"Maybe I should just leave you here..." Alfred pondered out loud feeling Arthur freeze beneath him.
"W-Wait, Alfred—" The Brit tried to look at him over his shoulder, but in his position it was rather hard, "Alfred, don't leave me—" The American pushed a finger inside making Arthur gasp and trail off into a groan.
"Why not? You can always invite Afonso to come spend time with you, right?" Alfred pulled out his finger, looking over his quivering lover, the jealousy jerking at his insides clawed at him, at the thought of Afonso coming here to finish this.
"W-What?! I-Is this really because I simply invited Afonso—?"
"Yes."
A sigh, "Alfred, don't you trust me?"
"I do. I don't trust him." He growled, clenching his jaw and leaning down to kiss Arthur's shoulder, nape, trailing down his back. Nipping, licking, kissing, biting here and there...
"Well, y-you sh-should— Mm— Ah—!" Alfred bit down on one of his asscheeks, "He's our A-Ace! Alfred, you're being r-ridiculous!" Arthur's voice high-pitched at the end. Alfred licked his entrance, his hands groping and squeezing Arthur's ass, kneading it as Alfred breached him open with his tongue.
He tasted of strawberries because of the lube. Alfred inhaled sharply through his nose, a rush of pleasure coursing through him as he heard Arthur moan and try to buck his hips to get more of the feeling, but the American didn't let him. He held his hips still, squeezing the soft flesh beneath his fingertips.
Alfred pulled back and panted lightly, licking his lips and staring at Arthur's trembling figure, his hole was twitching and shining with saliva and lube. Alfred bit his lip.
"A-Alfred..." The Brit whimpered breathless, the American pushed a finger inside again, wiggling it around and watching Arthur squirm and rock back against the finger, it slid in and out easily. Alfred rubbed a finger of his other hand against his entrance, "Please..." The Queen keened.
"Please what?"
A groan, "You know what."
"Do I now...? I don't know if I do." He teased.
"Bastard— Mhh—"
"Oh? I'm a bastard now. Huh." Alfred pushed in the second finger just slightly before pulling back out.
"Bloody wanker— Argh—" The Queen cursed making Alfred grin, "F-Fuck me, you g-git—!" The King pulled out his finger and pushed his thumbs instead, pulling in opposite directions to spread Arthur's entrance apart. The Queen's back arched, his legs spreading wider and from his lips Alfred heard one of the most delicious cries.
"Mmm... You're such a slut, Artie..." The American chuckled as he stared at the open entrance. Alfred leaned down again and pushed his tongue inside once more. The Brit was definitely more loose now, but it was still a tight fit. Alfred would change that soon enough.
Only he could do this. Only Alfred could see his Queen come undone like this, hear him scream and beg for more. Alfred felt his cock twitch in his trousers. His glasses were starting to slide down his nose because of the sweat, but he wasn't going to take them off now, his hands were too busy...
"Alfred, please—" He heard Arthur moan and backed away.
"I don't think I quite hear you, honey, care to say it louder?"
If Alfred's calculations were correct, by around this time Arthur would get frustrated enough that he would scream his lungs out to get him to do what he had to do.
"Fucking hell— Alfred F. Jones, if you don't fuck me right now I'm going to find Af—"
Alfred had never taken off his trousers so fast. He also had never penetrated Arthur that quickly either, which really, resulted in both of them groaning in pain. Alfred gritted his teeth, placing a hand over Arthur's mouth.
"If I hear you saying that name again, you won't be getting out of this room until you only say mine." He hissed in Arthur's ear, biting and tugging at his earlobe, staying still to get the Brit used to the sudden stretch. It most certainly must have stung. He hadn't prepared Arthur all the way, it usually went till three fingers, tonight however...
Well, it's not like it mattered, Arthur usually liked it rough anyway, and as long as he wasn't screaming bloody murder, it was okay.
Alfred started to slowly grind against Arthur, pulling out just a bit before snapping back in. The Brit hissed at the first few times, but was slowly getting used to it. Alfred's hand slithered beneath Arthur to grasp one of his nipples, playing with the hard nub, rubbing and pulling at it.
Arthur took his fingers into his mouth and bit down on them, Alfred yelped.
"H-Hey!" He winced, and bit on Arthur's neck, his fingers pinching the nipple and making the Brit moan.
The Queen started rocking back against him and Alfred started to speed up his pace. He groaned against Arthur's nape, moaning lowly at the tightness surrounding his member. He had missed this, a lot.
Alfred pulled out his fingers from Arthur's mouth. They had some bite marks and were completely covered in saliva, the American gave a harsh thrust making Arthur's breath hitch.
"I'm the— Only one— Who can— Do this— To you!" He punctuated each pause with a rough thrust, "I want to hear you scream my name." The American hissed, straightening himself, he pulled Arthur's hips up making his back strain at the arch it made.
"S-Stupid—" The Brit gasped, Alfred felt him shake, his muscles clenching around him. The American pulled out till only the tip was inside and paused, hands grasping Arthur's hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on the skin.
"What did I told you, Artie?" He asked, agonisingly slowly pushing back in before pulling out leisurely as well. The Brit panted quietly, so Alfred continued his sluggish pace. Having to restrain himself as well, his hands squeezing Arthur's hips hard enough to leave marks, he gritted his teeth.
"Alfred..." Arthur moaned, pushing back against him, Alfred licked his lips.
"Louder." He commanded.
"Alfred!" He shouted in a gasp, the American snapped his hips forward.
"Louder." He repeated, starting to pick up his pace.
"Alfred—!" The Brit yelled and Alfred felt his pride (and ego) swell, the green-eyed monster inside him receding...
"Even— Louder—" Alfred uttered out, finally taking off his glasses and leaning down to whisper in Arthur's ear, "Say it loud and clear, so that even Afonso can hear..."
"Al-Alfred—!" He cried out, clamping down on Alfred's member, his back arching even more. The American groaned, slowing his thrusts a tad. Arthur had come, but he didn't want to yet.
Alfred panted lightly and stopped completely. He hugged Arthur by the waist and pulled him up. The King sat down on the bed, his Queen sitting down on his lap with him still inside.
"Artie, look at me." He requested, kissing his back, rubbing his thighs gently. Arthur looked at him over his shoulder through tear stained eyes, his cheeks flushed a dark red, his lips parted, "I love you." Alfred smiled at him and Arthur's face turned a vivid red then, the Brit sputtering and squirming, tensing around him, Alfred pulled him into a kiss, "I missed you."
Arthur avoided staring into his eyes, but he leaned down to kiss him again and murmur, "I missed you too, stupid..." And after a few seconds he mumbled, "I l-love you too..."
Alfred beamed at him, completely forgetting the issue with Afonso. His hands trailing up on his soft, warm, sweaty skin to grasp his nipples. Arthur moaned, shoulders hunching as he shivered. Alfred bucked up into him, and Arthur looked at him with wide eyes, wanting to protest, but Alfred shushed him.
"The night is young and, like I said, I intend to have your full attention. All night." The American smirked and bit on Arthur's shoulder, leaving hickeys wherever he could reach and not letting the Brit even catch his breath as he continued.
Throughout the whole night.
Afonso Luís Salazar is a mix up of the names of three big Portuguese people:
Afonso - D. Afonso Henriques, founder and first king of Portugal
Luís - Luís de Camões, epic and lyrical poet, author of the national epic "Os Lusíadas"
Salazar - António de Oliveira Salazar, president of the Council of Ministers for 48 years during the authoritarian period of the "Estado Novo"