Rating: M
Warnings: Masturbation and language
This is a side-story to my fanfiction "Brit Next Door." So, if it seems confusing, it follows the 12th chapter.
"Nng, A-Alfred... hah..."
"Don't worry, babe. I'll be home soon." Alfred released a brief chuckle on the other end of the line, a bit of static interrupting their phone call for a moment. "Are you doing okay on your own?"
Arthur's cheeks were already a deep red, making it nearly impossible for the tone to darken, but if he wasn't already flushing, his face would be pink. He knew exactly what the American meant in his innocent hint, not wanting to set off the other students undoubtedly in the room with him. "Mmmm F-Fine..." He moaned softly, words trembling with every uneven breath that passed through his figure. The Brit's hands shook as he continued to move 2 fingers in-and-out from his entrance, which was being stretched with every movement. He couldn't help the creaking of the mattress, and only hoped it wouldn't set off the neighbors. Specifically Matthew.
Alfred continued to listen to Arthur's sensual moans, loving the sound of each and every syllable that left his mouth. Oh, how he missed his sexy, British partner. He'd love to go back... to feel the touch of his milky skin across deprived finger tips, and hear his desperate cries first hand, and not over a simple instrument for conversations, but it wasn't quite possible. He knew Arthur felt the same (whether the stuffy man would admit it aloud or not) and was that much more compelled to return back to their lonely city in Virginia.
On the other hand, the thoughts weren't quite passing Arthur's mind, as he hit a particular spot in his body that sent tremors passing through his limbs. "O-Oh god, yes...!" He grunted out in ecstasy, vision clouded by a sudden brightness. He directed his fingers back to that same spot, the burning and pain etched out by the pure pleasure and imaginations of his American rolling his hips inside, letting out deep comments about how beautiful Arthur looked when he put on a particularly lustful expression, or just the pure moment that made him itch to voice his thoughts about his body.
"Does it feel good enough?" Alfred smirked into the earpiece, shifting ears to get a closer account of the events taking place on their adjoined beds back in their house. "Having fun?"
Arthur would have said go to hell, but he was enjoying himself too much to be bothered by such suggestive things said in listening distance of the others, so he only nodded his head yes, forgetting that Alfred couldn't see him, but he knew he got the idea.
"R-Right there!" He whispered to himself, eyes screwed shut as he focused his remaining energy on controlling the warmth in his stomach that continued to build heavily. This had been a suggestion by Alfred- as it always was- and he knew he wouldn't be permitted to release until the man's homesickness was cured. He slowed his pace in the slightest, letting out loud, needing mewls into the phone, hoping Alfred would give him the okay, and decide not to toy with him. He let go of the phone, and started to stroke his weeping erection, needing attention to the poor organ. "A-Alfred..."
"Say my name while you do it. I wanna hear."
So, doing as he was told, Arthur let out the American's name what seemed like a hundred times, as he reached his climax over his naked torso. The cum slipped onto his abdomen, as he rolled out gibberish, meant to be loving words to the phone, and let his hands fall by his sides tiredly.
Spent and exhausted, Arthur rolled over on the bed and gripped the slick, abandoned phone, and held it to his ear, breathing heavily.
"I can't wait to see you do this when I come home." His voice said silkily, making Arthur smirk mischievously, though he was embarrassed by the idea. "Go ahead and fall asleep; you sound tired. I love you, Artie."
"I love you too... you blasted fool..." Arthur mumbled, lids fluttering shut as he pressed the off button gently on the phone. He touched one abused nipple, feeling odd to know it was done by his own hands, and had felt so... good. With one last smile, he was able to pull the covers up around himself, and drift into a peaceful slumber.
Alfred sat back in his chair, staring at the wired phone connected to the wall. "Goodnight... my sweet Artie." He whispered, before standing, knowing he had an entirely new problem in the Netherlands to take care of that his dear Arthur had unknowingly caused.