Matthew doesn't tell him why. And Alfred never asks. Those beautiful violet eyes hold a silent plea and Alfred readily acquiesces to their appeal, knowing that no amount of I'm sorry's and heroic bravado can change his past. And Matthew is here with him now and safe and wonderful and maybe - despite the opinions of so-called experts and what the shows say - Alfred can help him move forward without having to look back.
He thinks that Matthew's looked back enough, and perhaps all he needs now is to look to Alfred.
Matthew thinks that Alfred is like the sunshine. All bright, warm and soothing - and searing but in a good way. He likes the touch of a sunbeam, the feel of it against his skin. Unlike this cotton shirt he's wearing where the fabric chafes at his skin and makes him hyperaware of every movement he makes. He wonders briefly if he'd be more comfortable wandering around naked, but his natural bashfulness (not to mention societal norms) causes him to reconsider. The discomfort is minimal, so he can deal with clothing.
He can't say the same when someone who bumps into him in the halls or accidentally brushes his hand during an exchange. That's when the real problem kicks in, triggered by the briefest human contact. His nerve-endings alight with sensations that might as well be pain ( It's all in your head, they tell him - but they can't understand that he still feels these things ). It's not pain but it hurts and there's an underlying feeling of disgust that makes him feel nauseous.
Over the years he's learned how to function in the world but in an isolated bubble - an inflated sense of personal space. He knows how to rein this feeling in, preventing the onset of panic. His reactions are reduced to a flinch and a flare of nausea.
His few friends understand and keep their distance. He becomes content, convinces himself that he's not missing out on anything.
He never wanted anyone to touch him, much less get close to him. That was before Alfred. Now he wants cuddles, kisses, everything.
He imagines that Alfred touches like the sunshine.
It turns out that wanting makes no difference.
So Alfred tries. And tries and tries and tries - more than anyone else before him. He's an overly-affectionate soul who lives on little touches, hugs and reassurance. He dams that up for Matthew's sake but he can still feel his spirit spill over into every other permissible action.
He gives Matt "air-fives" during games.
He purposefully sidesteps Matt on the way out of the bathroom - ignoring his impulse to push him against the peeling doorframe and tug playfully at too-cute pyjamas.
He texts him hugs and kisses (and Matthew saves them all - every last luv u matt *kiss* message that comes his way).
People tell him that it can't possibly work out with Matt because Alfred's just too touchy-feely and they tell him that surely his phobia is a deal-breaker. Alfred merely waves them off.
Because he loves Matthew - Matt who lets him keep an entire freezer full of burgers, laughs at all his jokes and because every time Matthew smiles at him it reminds Alfred that he didn't make a deal so much as handed over his soul.
They sit in matching arm chairs, watching one of the scariest movies that Alfred's ever seen (and he's not just saying that this time!).
Alfred shoots glances at Matthew once in a while - to make sure the other was alright, and he wishes each time that he could cling to Matthew instead of the too-hard pillow he was currently clutching.
As he gets into the movie, and as more and more characters are killed off, he finds himself pretending that the pillow is Matthew. He tightens his grip on the thing, running shaky comforting hands along the sides of it - and even gives the top of the pillow a reassuring peck.
Matthew pretends not to notice. However, the guilt he feels is more difficult to ignore.
A little past eight months into their relationship, it begins to get to Alfred.
It's not necessarily the lack of sex but the lack of intimacy that Alfred craves so much. He wants to melt into Matthew and he wants to feel him melt right back.
Matthew tells him he loves him and he reciprocates physically as much as feels comfortable and Alfred does his best not to push him. Once, they held hands for ten seconds before Matthew wrenched his hand away and started to shudder.
Alfred can't stop the pangs of rejection that stab through him.
One night he comes home triumphantly from the office - finally a promotion! - and practically breaks down the door and yells the news to Matt before reflexively running over to capture his boyfriend into a victory hug.
He freezes at the sight of Matthew his beloved Matthew tripping backwards over the kitchen chair in an attempt to back away from him.
He catches the fear in those eyes.
He ducks his head to clear his suddenly blurry vision and chokes out -
"Aha, sorry. Forgot! Um... Air-five?" Alfred grins weakly and holds his hand up and Matt picks himself up off the floor, rubbing at his elbow.
Matthew knows without seeing Alfred's expression that he's severely hurt his boyfriend and welcomes the self-loathing that engulfs him. But he returns the awkward gesture anyhow.
"Uh, yeah - air-five. Congratulations Al," is all he can say and he can't even muster a proper smile. Pathetic.
Alfred checks that Matthew wasn't injured. Then he excuses himself, leaving Matthew alone in the kitchen with the overturned chair.
Neither of them feel like celebrating that night.
Matthew tries to come onto Alfred the next day.
He gets the buttons on Alfred's shirt open and forces himself to touch him, run his hands over tanned skin and to bury his face into Alfred's neck (partly to hide the fact that he was drunk out of his mind) and he wants to want this so badly- he begs his body to want this.
But as soon as Alfred's bewildered arms encircle him - he panics and he can'ttake the feeling of being surrounded and trapped and touched and he tears away from the embrace just as quickly, locking himself into his room collapsing into sobs on the floor.
Alfred sits outside Matthew's door, letting his shirt hang open as he remembers the frantic way Matthew's hands slid over his torso - he's desired Matthew for a long time. But that - that wasn't what he wanted at all.
"I was thinking -" Matthew begins one day and pauses, unsure how to proceed. "I know how I am and well, I know it's difficult for you but I was thinking that maybe, you know, if you wanted - you could take a - a lover?" The word doesn't come out of his mouth as easily as he wanted it to. He curses himself. Be selfless Matt. Think of Alfred.
He doesn't know what reaction he was expecting - relief? Agreement?
Instead his boyfriend stays silent and stares at him with hard, disbelieving eyes.
Alfred's never wanted to hit Matthew before. But he wants to now - try to knock some goddamn sense into him.
But he can't do that.
So he leaves.
Alfred doesn't come home for an entire day.
He calls the next night, Matthew drops the laundry basket at the sight of the caller ID and clings to the phone with both hands. They speak over each other, both asking for forgiveness in the round-about way that they're used to.
"It's really good to hear your voice," he tells him.
"Haha, really?" Alfred likes the sound of Matthew's voice too. He freezes - that's it!
"I'll be back soon okay Matt?"
When Alfred returns, it's with an armful of maple desserts and pie and he asks Matthew to please help him finish all these delicious things - and Matthew's too relieved to say no.
That night, Alfred approaches him tentatively.
"Hey Matt can I talk to you for a sec?" Alfred asks, dropping his voice and his eyelids just so. He beckons him to follow, and leads Matthew (curious) to his bedroom.
"Um - Alfred!" Matthew starts uncertainly as Alfred shuts the door behind him.
Alfred immediately puts his hands up in a calm down gesture.
"It's okay - it's okay the door's not locked. You can leave whenever you want."
He takes a deep breath. He had a speech prepared but damn if he can remember it now with Matthew staring at him like that so instead he just blurts out:
"I just - I want to try something - I know how much it's hurting us both that we can't have a physical relationship but there are ways around that right? I don't mind doing that until - until you're ready for other things."
Another intake of breath, shakier this time.
"I don't want to do those other things with anyone else because I only want you Matt. Really."
A pause.
And finally, Matthew - who looks a little breathless - gives him a small nod.
"Okay I... I trust you Alfred."
It's the best thing Alfred's heard in a long time.
Alfred walks to the other side of the room, away from the door, giving Matthew a clear path to it.
"So. I'm going to stand here and keep my back against this wall okay? And you - uh -"
"- you can lie on the bed - " he waits for Matthew to comply.
"Okay, ready?"
There is an air of awkwardness that hangs between them - Matthew lying on the bed and Alfred leaning against the wall, but there is anticipation too.
Alfred clears his throat. His body is still, but his heart pounds away at his insides.
"Imagine that I - imagine that I crawl over you," he begins.
He sees Matthew breathe in long and slow and knows that as embarrassing and awkward it was for him to voice such things, that Matthew's fighting his own battle there. He feels pride and relief and happiness and he's so glad - so glad he's giving this a chance -
" - and then what?" Matthew turns his head to face Alfred, staying on his back. Alfred stares back and thinks for a moment. He's already chosen a well-loved scene from the ample collection of Matthew in his head.
"Well. It's much too warm in here to be wearing so many clothes, so I kindly and considerately decide to relieve you of yours. With my teeth." He gives a sly grin at the sight of Matthew's wide-eyes and raises his eyebrows expectantly.
It takes a second for Matthew to catch on.
"O-oh!" He exclaims as his hands rush to fumble with the top button of his shirt, and Alfred narrates from the wall.
"I'd undo each button with my mouth, never taking my eyes off yours - " they share a glance " - as I make my way down. I take it slow - but only because you want me to go faster." He laughs as Matthew shoots him an indignant glare while the last of the buttons are undone and Matthew's arms return to his sides, awaiting further instruction.
Alfred can see Matt's bare chest and stomach from where he stands and he's seen it before but it's different right now.
"I run my hands up and down your side and -" Alfred hesitates when Matthew flinches anxiously on the bed.
"You okay?"
"O-one second," Matthew breathes, willing himself to calm down. The idea of skin-skin contact is terrifying him right now but he can't lose it, he can't.
Then he remembers the sunshine. Warm, harmless and beautiful against him.
Alfred touches like the sunshine.
It becomes a mantra in his mind.
"Thanks you can... keep going now." Like the sunshine, he tells himself firmly.
Alfred licks his lips, "I kiss you because you look so good, and it's really soft at first -" Matthew can practically feel the warmth of him against his lips "- and then we really get into it and at some point there's tongue and -and stuff."
"And stuff," Matthew echoes questioningly from the bed.
Alfred feels his ears burning. "Ugh -shut up okay, I've never narrated a make out session before."
Matthew is incredibly touched by Alfred's next words.
"All I know is that I end up loving the taste of you, even if it's not maple like I thought it'd be and I don't think I've ever felt anything so perfect and hot before in my life and I want more - "
" - and stuff," Matt amusedly adds, unable to resist.
Alfred pouts at him.
"I forgot to add that I especially like kissing you because when I do you can't make smartass comments."
Matthew snorts.
"Anyways," Alfred huffs, trying to regain control of the situation - it's HIS scenario damn it!
"I strip." He shucks off his own shirt and slips off his pants, allowing Matthew to enjoy the view from the bed. The wall behind him feels cool against his bare back and legs.
"And then I unbutton your pants and pull them off of you, mouthing your name into your crotch as I do." Matthew almost rips the jeans off.
They're both breathing a little harder now.
Alfred eyes his boyfriend's body because he really was beautiful and it's so tempting to rip himself away from the wall and ravish him good and proper. It takes all of his self-control. He smirks, at the sight of Matt's erection.
"You're hard and all because of me - because you love the feel of me on top of you, against you."
Matthew's dizzy, his entire body warms pleasantly at the description and for the first time in a long time, he wants to feel exactly what Alfred describes.
"And then I put ask you - I whisper it right up against your ear so you feel the words more than you hear them -"
Matthew's holding his breath.
"Do you want me to ride you?"
Alfred talks him through it.
And he doesn't even hear the entire sentences anymore - not sure if Alfred's even speaking them -
"- so good - you're perfect inside me - harder - I slam down right when you yeah - yes -"
Matthew is bucking furiously into his hand and Alfred's not standing anymore, lost in his head, grinding his hips down into the floor to match his narration - watching Matthew move - imagining how he'd move inside of him.
And when Matthew comes it's a stunning combination of his curving, arching back and a flurry of AlfredIloveyou's that takes Alfred's breath away.
As Alfred lies on the floor watching Matthew's heaving chest through his own post-orgasmic bliss, he can't help but think that it can only get better from here.
AN: Thank you very much for reading! This piece was originally written for a friend on tumblr.
Thank you to Alli who was very encouraging and even gave the fic a pre-reading.