Alfred massaged the side of his neck, rolling his shoulders as he walked down the busy street. It was late, the sun had already set, and the night owls were about. He finished work not too long ago and felt drained- everything that could go wrong did, and the day was taking its toll on him. Needing caffeine, he decided to go get some coffee, but after driving for a bit, he decided to check out a certain one downtown.
It was a quaint little cafe, so he was told. It offered an array of exotic drinks, but what drew him was the lively entertainment that they had some nights. The owners allowed local bands to perform there, be it their own original work, or a karaoke of sorts for others. Alfred wanted to check it out for the longest time, so he was happy to finally have the chance now.
Walking in, he noticed that the cashier was in one area, and that the area for the performers was further back. It allowed the patrons a choice to view the show or not. Alfred was a little surprised over how large the place was- it never looked that big from outside. He ordered a large cafe mocha and walked slowly towards the back. It sounded like the band had just finished one song, and were about to start another. He just caught the last bit of their introduction.
"- cover of Waiting. Hope you guys like it."
The voice struck a chord with Alfred, something about the softness of the tone and the pitch. Soon the strumming of a guitar sounded, drums pounded, and then his voice.
"A coma might feel better than this. Attempting to discover where to begin. You're weighed down, you're full of something. Of sickness and desertion. You're weighed down, you're full of something. You're underneath it all."
It was as though his lungs stopped working. Alfred found himself unable to breathe when he saw the man who was singing, and heard his soft, calm voice. The man sat in the center of the stage, his band members behind him, on a chair with an acoustic guitar in his lap. He had golden hair, highlighted by the lights of the stage, but his head was down, hiding his face. He was strumming at his guitar, and Alfred could tell he was really feeling the music.
When he began to sing the chorus, the man turned his face up to the microphone, and Alfred was able to stare into his beautiful, youthful face. He had large, dark coloured glasses, and wore a red shirt under a plaid black and white over shirt. His hands and wrists were bare, and his fingers moved deftly over the instrument.
Alfred needed to get closer, he realized, as he watched the man- coffee forgotten in his hand. There was a seat on the end, three rows from the front so he snagged that, practically sprinting towards the chair.
As the man finished the chorus and began the second verse, he finally opened his eyes. Alfred was awestruck over the shade of his prefect violet orbs. He looked around the room as he sang, eyes slightly hooded, until they fell upon Alfred. He continued his sweep for a moment, but then his gaze fell back on the American and lingered. He finished the second chorus and began the bridge, watching Alfred the entire time.
Alfred felt his breathing quicken, his heart race, and his palms become clammy as he watched the man almost sing to him. Each note he sang, each delicious inhale he made, sent waves of pleasure over his skin. When he vocalized, it was his chest and pants that tightened, making Alfred shift in his seat as his voice flowed over his body. It almost seemed as though the man knew how wonderfully uncomfortable he was making him, and he smirked slightly before it was the chorus again.
When it got to this he looked back down, and Alfred let out the air he did not know he was holding. He finished the song with passion, his voice caressing his senses and Alfred's eyes fluttered shut. Before he knew it, the song was over and the man stood up.
"Thank you everyone, it's been a pleasure."
The audience gave a round of applause for them, and the man left the stage, smiling to his band mates. Alfred was watching him the entire time, and was struck to the core when the man turned his head to look back at him, amethyst eyes glittering with interest.
He watched the man put the instruments back, evidently not belonging to them and walk outside. Alfred bolted up, walking swiftly to the door and throwing out his untouched coffee on the sprint there. The door swung wide, and he peered from side to side, drinking down the cool air as he looked for the intoxicating man. He didn't have to look far, because leaning against the side of the wall was the singer, his lips wrapped around a cigarette, in the process of taking a long drag.
Violet eyes, filled with amusement, regarded Alfred, looking him up and down as he shifted from foot to foot. He blew the smoke up and away in the opposite direction before putting it out and facing him, still leaning against the wall.
"Hello."
Simple as that. Hello. And yet it made Alfred's head spin.
"H-hey! I just wanted to say...It's...I really liked your performance. You're an amazing singer."
To his amazement, the man blushed slightly and adjusted his shirt from embarrassment. He looked up at Alfred from beneath his lashes and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.
"You think so? Thank you...?"
"A-Alfred! Alfred Jones."
Alfred walked a step closer, extending his hand out for the other. The man moved away from the wall and straightened. He realized that the singer was a lot taller when he wasn't leaning against the wall, and stood directly before him. They were practically the same height- if anything the man was a bit taller. His hand was suddenly enveloped by an equally large hard.
"Hello, Alfred. My name is Matthew Williams."
Their handshake lasted a few beats longer than normal, the two men staring at each other with a look of unmasked interest. It was Alfred who broke the silence first.
"Did..did you want to get something to drink, or...?"
Matthew's grip tightened for a moment before his hand slid down, caressing his skin until their fingers laced and went from a handshake, to holding hands casually.
"I have a better idea. What would you say if I asked you to come to my place for some drinks?"
Unable to speak, Alfred just nodded his head dumbly.
Matthew closed the door behind Alfred, kicking off his shoes in the corner before walking down the hallway- something that Alfred imitated immediately. His apartment was nice, and large; having two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a balcony, and a joint living room and kitchen.
Clearing his throat, he looked to the back of Matthew's head. "Anyone due home later?"
The man looked over his shoulder to him with a gleam to his eye. "I live alone."
"O-oh! I just thought with the two bedrooms-"
"I use it for more space, or if friends want to crash for the night."
Alfred just kind of nodded, feeling anxious, but the man's voice was soothing in a way that he wasn't too jittery.
Matthew motioned to the couch, "here, take a seat. I'll get us a beer."
He walked to the kitchen and took out two drinks as Alfred sat down gently on the couch, savouring the cool feel of the leather beneath his fingertips. His heart hammered in his chest, threatening to explode, as he watched Matthew walk back to him. His hips swayed in a way that was almost hypnotic to Alfred, and he had to focus on grabbing the opened bottle.
Matthew had a small grin on his face as he sat down next to Alfred, thighs touching as he set his bottle down on the table before the couch. He took Alfred's drink and took a quick sip, swallowing, then licking around the opening, catching any drops before giving it back. With shaking hands, Alfred took a drink of his own, a quick swig before setting it down on the table.
"You okay, Al?" Matthew asked with that sweet, delicate voice of his.
"Y-yeah, I'm okay...so, uh...what do want to talk abou-"
His lips were quickly occupied when Matthew closed the distance between them, kissing and licking at his lips before drawing away slightly.
"What I want to talk about...is how you're going to fuck me." A lick to the shell of his ear.
Alfred moaned slightly and shuddered, hands flying up to grab at the man's shoulders. He looked at Matthew for a moment before giving in and kissing him, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Matthew tasted divine, Alfred thought as he explored his mouth, licking every area he could. He wanted to hear that voice again though, he wanted to hear him call out his name in pleasure, to see that angelic face look to him through a haze of lust.
He pulled Matthew to the ground and moved on top of him, kissing down the man's neck and stopping to leave his mark. His hands flew to the hem of his jeans to try and undo them, as Matthew moved to remove their shirts. They drew apart for as long as it took to remove their clothes, and no longer. Once that was completed, they smashed back together, their lips locking, and legs tangled.
The American drew away and looked down to Matthew. "You want to talk about it? Alright. First, where is the lube so I can ease the way?"
Matthew just pointed to the table that had their drinks. Alfred saw a small drawer on the side, and sure enough, a small bottle was contained inside, along with a few condoms.
"Second, I want to hear your voice. I want you to call my name, and tell me what you like. Third, I want to feel your thick cock slam the back of my throat as I taste you. I want you to come down in my mouth so I can swallow all of it. I want to feel the weight of you on my tongue, to feel the hard, smoothness between my lips. I want-"
"Fuck, Al, just do it!"
Alfred chuckled and slid down his body, hovering directly above the member he had previously described. With a soft lick, he tested the waters and found Matthew to taste as good as he thought he would. Moaning, he let the head slip by his lips and sucked, sky blue orbs meeting amethyst crystals, darkened with lust.
"Fuck, Al...oh god, that feels so good..."
He groaned from hearing Matthew pant out so desperately. He loved how his slow voice cried out, moaned, groaned, and each shuddering breath he took. With his reaction urging him on, Alfred took him further into his mouth until it touched the back of his throat. Eyes fluttering shut, Alfred began to bob up and down, applying suction and moaning, giving Matthew the added pleasure of vibrations. The man was writing, hips lifting in desperation, wanting to go even deeper, ever faster.
"Oh fuck, Al...I don't think I can last too long...O-oh God!"
That didn't matter to Alfred. In fact, he wanted it to happen, so his efforts doubled to make him come faster. His hand started to cup and massage Matthew's balls, applying pressure here and there as he fucked his mouth with his cock.
"I-I'm...Alfred!"
Matthew's hand grabbed at his hair, holding and pressing him down harder as he came. Choking slightly, Alfred swallowed him down, breathing heavily through his nose, until everything was consumed. Drawing away with a pop, a thin line connected him still to Matthew's softening member until it broke, causing Alfred to lick his lips. His own member was throbbing, and he was going to go insane if he didn't do anything about it soon.
So without finesse, he ripped open a condom packet, rolled it on, and applied lubrication to Matthew's opening, gently trying to dip a finger inside. Still riding his euphoria, Matthew showed no resistance for the most part, and Alfred's finger slipped inside relatively easily.
"That's it, Mattie...loosen up for me. I don't want to hurt you..."
"Hurry Alfred...I want you inside of me...I want you to take what you want...!" He broke off with a keening moan, bucking his hips and pressing against his hand.
Once Alfred felt that his lover was stretched enough, he stroked himself a bit before lining up with Matthew's entrance. Hissing through clenched teeth, he pressed in, slowly, until Matthew adjusted to him. Hands clenching at his back, Matthew wrapped his legs around Alfred and urged him to move.
"Come on, Al...fuck me. Fuck me like you wanted to when you heard me sing. I knew you wanted to just by looking at you."
Too blinded by lust to consider being embarrassed, Alfred merely smiled down to Matthew, withdrew almost completely and slammed home. The sound Matthew made from that pleased Alfred and made his repeat the action until he reached an established pace- fast and hard. Exquisitely hard.
"F-fuck, Mattie...you're so tight...ngh, please...talk to me."
"Alfred...Al...keep going. Tear me open, fuck me until I can't walk- can't see straight. Please, oh fuck yes...I want to feel you deep inside of me-"
Alfred cried out, his melodic voice pervading his mind and senses until all he could think of, see, taste, and hear, was Matthew. He needed to claim him, to mark him up and dirty his skin. To stake his claim on this gorgeous young singer who claimed his mind, and possibly heart, so easily.
His thrusts became erratic, his breathing fast and shallow. He pressed his lips against Matthew and kissed him roughly as he came, crying out into his mouth. Matthew clenched slightly around him, making Alfred's moaning more high pitched, as he milked the orgasm out of him.
Matthew pulled his lover down against him, holding his head against his chest as he smoothed his hands down Alfred's back as they tried to calm down.
"I liked that." he whispered to the worn out man, squeezing him slightly. Alfred hummed and pressed a kiss against his chest before nuzzling him.
"I did too. You just made my horrible day into an amazing one."
Matthew was silent for a moment before he quietly asked, "how about I try to make your tomorrow even better?"
A/N: Yes, Matthew's band was singing Waiting by City and Colour.
Why? Because I have a headcanon that Matthew can sing like him :)
Hope you enjoyed this little PWP. x)