Please Capture Me
"One or two drops will work, but no more than three," Francis murmured into his ear, one gloved hand pulling him closer. As always, Alfred was torn between drawing near and flinching away, so he stood motionless before the seated man.
"Th-thank you, Francis," Alfred whispered, lowering his eyes as he felt warm lips brush against his, a slightly scratchy chin against his skin, all of this a trivial recompense he chose to pay for Francis' support. He kept his gaze fixed on the perfectly tied cravat, doing his best to hide his anxiety at this forbidden contact. Arthur would… he would… be so angry, so very angry…
"I wish you the best of luck, mon cher," and that flawless, cruel smile might have better fitted a wolf upon seeing a lamb.
That night it began to rain, at first softly and then progressing to a full-blown thunderstorm, with howling winds that might have kept Alfred awake, except that he was already unable to sleep from the weight of that dreadful secret on his mind. So caught up in his thoughts, he almost jumped when the door to his bedroom opened slowly.
"Alfred? Are you awake?" Matthew whispered from the shadowy threshold.
"Yeah, I'm awake. What'd you need?" Alfred sat up in bed, his heart inexplicably pounding even faster than before. There was a deafening thunderclap, and in the brief flash of light, Matthew's face looked deathly white. In the next few seconds, he had scurried over to Alfred's bedside, clutching a teddy bear to his chest as if it were a lifeline.
"I can't sleep because of the storm… C-can I stay with you tonight?"
Alfred nodded and scooted over to make room. "Sure thing." He smiled reassuringly, and Matthew gave a weak grin in return.
"Thanks."
They huddled together under the blankets, Alfred's hand over Matthew's, and soon the thunder and lightening began to die away.
"See, that wasn't so scary!" Alfred said as he sat up, untangling their fingers and feeling somewhat mortified that his hand was so warm and damp from perspiration.
"N-no, but that was because I was with you…"
Alfred beamed at that, always gratified to be the hero, and Matthew blushed, burying his face into the teddy bear out of embarrassment. So he did not notice when Alfred took advantage of this opportunity to whack him over the head with a pillow.
"Ow, that hurt!" Matthew cried, tears in his eyes from the pain. He dropped his bear and picked up his own pillow, getting in a hefty blow that knocked Alfred backward and off the bed with a loud thump.
"Aahh, Alfred! Are you all right?"
Alfred responded by grabbing Matthew's sleeve and pulling him off the bed. Then it was a race to reclaim their pillows and continue the fight. In the end, they had to declare a draw as they both collapsed back onto bed, breathless from giggling and yelling and jumping on the mattress.
Exhausted, the boys curled up underneath the covers, waiting with bated breath to see if Arthur would come in and yell at them for making so much noise late at night. But for some reason, he did not.
After Alfred felt certain Matthew was asleep, he carefully got out of bed and tiptoed out of the room. He still could not sleep and thought perhaps something to drink may help. At least it might distract him from Matthew's presence at his side.
"Huh? Is he still awake?" Curiously, he made a detour towards the glimmering sliver of light emanating from Arthur's quarters, his bare feet making almost no noise in the thick carpeted floor. Ever so slowly and cautiously, Alfred peeked into the room, wondering what could possibly occupy Arthur so late at night.
He pulled back quickly after only an instant, one hand over his mouth. Alfred knew he made a small gasp, but clearly the two in the room did not hear him over the sounds that they were making. Backing away from the doorway, he made his way to his room in a daze, breath coming fast and uneven.
Matthew felt the mattress dip slightly under Alfred's weight as he slid back under the covers. Even though they had moved as far apart as they could, he was still too close, Matthew thought, shivering slightly in anticipation of the next day. He hugged the stuffed bear to his chest again and tried to relax, not knowing that on the other side of the bed, Alfred was doing the same. Over and over, Matthew mentally rehearsed what he was going to say, until he drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
"Tea in the garden?" Alfred asked, looking doubtful. He was not very fond of drinking tea anymore, but Matthew still enjoyed the whole ritual, and there was no point in disappointing him, not now.
"Yes. The weather is perfect, don't you think so?"
"Of course…" Alfred said, not really looking at the vivid blue skies above. He coughed nervously and muttered something about meeting at the gazebo by the roses in an hour. Matthew smiled at him, much too sweetly, and then excused himself to prepare the tea. Watching him leave, Alfred dropped the jonquil blossoms he had gathered and ran off in the opposite direction, his careless footsteps crushing the delicate white petals.
A few minutes later, Alfred quickly pulled up a footstool to a shelf in the mansion's library. Hesitating only a little bit, he moved several books to one side and found the box, right where Francis had said it would be. He opened it, ignoring the grinning death's heads engraved upon the wooden lid, and carefully pulled out a small bottle made of dark red glass, half full of liquid.
"This is it," he whispered in awe. He knew it was the right one, for he saw the exact same bottle in Arthur's bedroom last night, glittering seductively in the candlelight. Too late to stop himself, Alfred recalled those glassy green eyes, the shine of sweat on Francis' bowed back, faint candlelight illuminating Arthur's moistened lips, mouth opened in a soft moan heavy with uncharacteristic lust, sighs answered and reflected in the other's slightly deeper tones. He almost dropped the vial because he was trembling so much from the intensity of the memory, but caught it in time.
"A-all right… I can do this," he said aloud to himself, though all he could actually think of was the other's name.
Alfred could not help but notice how perfect Matthew looked, how he really did take after Francis in that way. In the meantime, Matthew rearranged the plates and vases to his satisfaction, the blood red of the roses contrasting sharply with the somber color of his frock coat.
Once the table inside the gazebo had been arranged, Arthur's fine china and sterling silver sparkling and inviting in the sunlight, they both sat down in nervous silence, sneaking glances at each other but looking away immediately if their eyes should meet for more than a second. Behind them, the mansion loomed ominously, all darkened windows and even darker secrets. Out here, though… things would be different.
"Ah, Matthew-!" Alfred exclaimed, his hand reaching across the table as Matthew dropped a sugar cube into his teacup.
"What, is something wrong?"
"Oh… oh nothing…" He put his hands back into his lap, fidgeting slightly as Matthew poured him his tea and handed him a biscuit drizzled with what seemed to be maple syrup.
"I hope you like them," he said shyly, "I baked them myself."
"Gosh, I can't imagine why I wouldn't like them then!" Alfred replied cheerfully, biting into the biscuit with gusto.
The rest of the tea passed by much more comfortably, and unbeknownst to the two boys, their guardians watched from above.
Francis, upon seeing Arthur's fond smile, leaned over to kiss him, and Arthur eagerly returned it before suddenly biting his tongue.
"Stop it, you monster, and let me watch in peace," Arthur murmured archly, resting his head on Francis' shoulder as he continued to observe the scene below.
"As you wish, my heart," Francis replied, and licked the drop of blood off of his lips.
Alfred chewed at his lower lip in frustration. He had no idea if the potion was working or not, since Matthew had not expressed any change in the past hour and was only smiling that dreamy smile he always had, speaking only when spoken to. The heavy scent of roses in bloom was so cloying to his nose, the sun too warm and bright, the syrup too sweet on his tongue. Alfred needed to just move and do something, instead of waiting for something to happen. He stood up abruptly, dishes clattering as his knee bumped the table. At the same time, Matthew got up from his chair as well.
"Alfred…" he whispered, moving closer, his eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and desire. "I… want…"
Like a lightning bolt that struck his heart, such was the force of this latest revelation. Even so, Alfred stepped forward to hold the other's hands in his own, gently drawing the other near.
"Matthew…" he breathed, finally daring to hope.
There was the briefest of pauses before their lips met in a kiss they had both been dreaming of all these nights. Each of them thought the taste was too sweet, deadly sweet, but neither one cared anymore, now that they have obtained the prize they had sought.
And so the culmination of their scheming resulted in this - a poisoned kiss surrounded by roses the color of lust, the faint clatter as one empty vial, then another, slipped from their pockets onto the ground, the sound of delighted laughter in a room high above - a perfect ending built of lies and deceit and secrets best left in the shadows.
[Author's Notes: Don't you just love AUs that have nothing to do with the series whatsoever? Actually, someone requested this, the prompt was based on the Len & Rin Vocaloid version of Cantarella. Thanks for reading!]