A Certain Type Of Magic
Summation: AU where witches are sex slaves, England is a newly trained witch and was just bought by America. This eventually turns into love. Yes, somehow.
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia and do not profit in any way from this.
Warning: Will eventually contain SMUT/YAOI/MAGIC and the like. For now, mostly enough FLUFF to stuff a mattress.
A/N: Deanon from the Hetalia Kink Meme on Livejournal. This came out way more fluffy than I first intended it to, but I assure you there will be light(and by light I mean sex) at the end of the tunnel. Also my first time writing any kind of squeaky/cuddly England. I am as amazed as you.
Also, for another take on this concept might I recommend Siren by kagomegirl2004? That's the awesome thing about kink meme prompts, multi-fills means more awesome!
The first thing Alfred noticed was that Arthur was slightly smaller than he himself was; perhaps a bit older too, but still in his early twenties at least. He was wearing a formfitting long sleeved shirt, the color of which matched his expressive green eyes. His black dress pants and sensible shoes made it seem like he could be the son of any well-to-do family. The only thing that gave away his status was the thin silver collar around his pale neck, that and perhaps the subdued air about him.
The man standing before him, Arthur, was Alfred's 'belated birthday present' from his best friend. For years Francis would usually get him random sex toys and the like; he was always saying that Alfred needed to 'live a little' and that he needed to 'experiment'. It's true Alfred didn't usually indulge in his own perversions, he'd never had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or any long-term lover. But getting an actual sex slave...
Sex slaves were always witches, and witches were always sex slaves. Some said those who used magic were cursed, and that making them use their destructive powers for the pleasure of others was their penance. Others said they were no different than anyone else, and that they should be allowed basic rights and freedoms as human beings. Alfred was never quite sure how he felt on the matter - he'd never actually ever met a witch before. Oh he'd seen them plenty of times, they'd follow their masters obediently to a variety of public places, but not once had he ever talked to or gotten to know one. But a person was a person, no matter what they could do, right?
And now here one was, a witch of his very own, standing in his doorway looking uncomfortable and nervous.
Alfred smiled, trying to look inviting as he opened the door all the way to let the other man pass. "Please, come in."
"As my master wishes." Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper, and his eyes never looked up to meet his as he walked inside. He looked... Well... What was the word he was looking for? Sad? Sullen?
Alfred closed the door and guided his new 'guest' to the couch in the living room, hoping that if they sat down and talked a few things over he might be able to make the other man more comfortable. Alfred wasn't quite sure what he should do after that, but then again he wasn't exactly experienced in the whole 'owning another person' thing, and he was already having second doubts about accepting Francis' gift.
As Alfred sat down next to him Arthur tensed slightly, his posture becoming more rigid. And still his eyes never left the floor in front of him.
Alfred resisted the urge to touch him, to hold him and tell him that everything was okay. Knowing what Arthur was, (and what he was here for) it would probably give him the wrong impression of what Alfred was trying to do.
"So... are you hungry? Thirsty? Something I can get you?" Was it appropriate to ask your slave if they needed anything?
Arthur finally looked up at him, slightly bewildered as he answered, "I'm fine. Thank you, Sir."
A heavy silence descended between them, Arthur's eyes had lowered back to the floor and he found himself trying not to fidget. What to say? What to say? Put Alfred in a room full of shouting businessmen and he'd stare them all down into silence in record time. Put him in a room with a man meant to cater to his every sexual whim and he choked.
"You're very beautiful," he sputtered. Smooth.
Arthur's cheeks tinted pink at the comment, he turned his head demurely to the side to look at Alfred. "What does my master desire?"
He could feel Arthur start to shake next to him, as if anticipating the worst. Alfred wasn't that intimidating, was he?
"Well what I desire is for you to relax, and I want you to trust that I'm not about to hurt you." Alfred leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. "And for now you can just call me Alfred."
Arthur just looked at him in confusion, a small frown on his thin lips. Was it really that weird that Alfred hadn't just bent him over the nearest surface as soon as he arrived? He didn't think he'd ever be able to look at himself in the mirror again if he did that...
He shrugged noncommittally. "I don't like thinking my partner isn't going to enjoy being with me."
"I would enjoy anything my master desires me to." There it was, that sullen, biting tone again.
"We'll go slow when we, uh, you know. And if anything ever feels like it's too much, just let me know and we'll stop." A little voice in the back of his head was calling him ten kinds of idiot for thinking that consent had anything to do with owning a sex slave. By all rights Alfred could do about damn near anything to him as long as it wasn't outright murder.
Alfred really did want to ravish his slave, wanted to tie him to the bed and play with him until Arthur was begging for more; but he just couldn't force himself on another like that.
Having a sense of propriety sucked.
He gave a shaky smile as he stood up. "You haven't even settled in yet. C'mon, I'll show you my room, your own is right next to it. I'll give ya the grand tour later."
With that Alfred scooped the smaller man up in his arms, bridal style. He ignored the surprised squawk as he carried Arthur up the large staircase to the master bedroom.