Alfred's POV...

1 day later...

He swore he was going to be sick again, dry heaving over his bucket. He refused to eat, drink, even leave the room, watching over his torn up omega. The presence of his mate was still strong, despite the gaping hole in abdomen. Arthur was going to be okay, his brothers saying that in addition to his natural healing prowess the medical herbs they gave him should have him up in no time. Nevertheless, his bloodshot eyes, his unmoving chest and bleeding nose was a sickening sight, too morbid for the prince's weak heart to handle.

According to Seamus, the royal sorcerer had come out of nowhere as Seamus struggled to get Arthur away from the edge. He said he was flung into the forest, and when he had returned, Arthur was impaled by a 2 foot spike, still conscious and suffering. Even now, Arthur was awake, eyes glazed over as he stared at nothing. He must have been in an unimaginable amount of pain, Alfred trying to compose himself. The prince hesitantly stroked the brit's face, the omega not responding. "I love you." He whispered softly, leaning forward to move the bangs off of his face.

They were currently in their room, Seamus insisting that Arthur be cared for in there. Alfred was a little grateful for the brothers, but then again, they were the reason for all this. If they hadn't challenged him, Arthur wouldn't have been chased through the forest and attacked by the beast. Furthermore, Seamus's story didn't explain the stab wounds on Arthur's shoulders. Alfred didn't trust him, and if he read the redhead's face right, he wasn't very convinced either. The prince pulled the blanket up a little higher, the fabric laying around his neck.

"You can probably hear me." Alfred started, getting no response. "You're probably scared, and so am I... but your brothers said you should be okay." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I can only imagine the pain you're in, and I'm sorry that, once again, I've failed to keep you safe." He sighed. "Seamus said that your wounds were the result of the royal sorcerer, but... I don't really believe him. You ended up on the cliff for a reason, you wouldn't have run from him if you didn't think he was safe to be around. Was he... was he the one who pushed you? There's no evidence to support that he did, but there's no evidence to support what he said either. Your shoulders were stabbed a number of times, but by a smooth sharp object. Your stomach wound has this torn, random pattern whereas your shoulder wounds are clean slits. Sure the sorcerer could have stabbed you and then threw you over the cliff, but for some reason I doubt that."

Alfred was interrupted by a knock on the door, the Kirkland who goes by Allister walking in. The prince stared him down as he approached the pair, a wooden bowl in his hand. He looked over at the clock, shocked to see that it was already midnight. "I need to clean his wound." He deadpanned, setting the bowl down. Alfred nodded, standing up to give the other his seat. "You've been here for the last 17 hours." He spoke as he pulled down the blanket, removing the shoulder bandages first. Alfred sighed.

"I'd rather he not be alone." He sighed. Allister hummed.

"I guess..." He began to dab the wounds, Alfred watching his expression intently. He can't really believe he got all the wounds from the fall, right? Seamus obviously did something to him. Allister suddenly glared at him, stopping what he was doing. "Why are you staring at me?" Alfred scoffed.

"You're touching my unconscious mate, why wouldn't I watch you." He snapped, the redhead frowning. The prince wouldn't be surprised if the thought had crossed his mind. He seemed smart enough to doubt the little story the other had said, but then again, they're brothers, closer to each other than they are to Arthur.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He growled, wrapping the shoulder up.

"Excuse me?"

Allister sighed hesitantly, shaking his head. "Forget it... I just need to clean his stomach wound and he's all yours." Alfred hummed. Oh, he's his now that he can't speak or move, but when he's healthy, Arthur doesn't have a right enough mind to pick his mate. Allister stilled for a bit, coughing. "I don't know what happened to Arthur." he said suddenly. "We have no way of knowing without him waking up, so if you have your little theories you want to fact check later, do so. But until then, keep them to yourself."

Alfred scoffed. "I don't recall telling you any of my conspiracy theories."

"It doesn't matter." He stood up suddenly. "I'm done. The wound is no longer open. There's just a scab that'll heal. His lungs should take a little longer to heal, but he should come to a full recovery in 4 days or so." He walked away, picking up the bowl leaving the room.

"Thank you." Alfred scoffed. He sat down on the chair, pulling the blanket up again. "Your brother's a dweep."


2 days later...

Alfred yawned as he closed his eyes, resting his hand lightly on his mate's chest. His lungs were working like normal, the rise and fall hypnotising as he tried to get some sleep. The brit's face was buried in his neck, the prince at first shocked when he felt the other move. However, he forced himself to relax seeing that moving meant progress. The wound on the stomach was healed for the most part, just some discoloration. However, what really got his attention was the hand-sized burn shaped as a cross on his stomach. Of course Alfred was livid as he left the room for the first time in days, hunting the blonde Kirkland down. He had accused him of torture and attempted murder until Allister explained to him that the burn marks were due to his time in the cave, not because of them. Though this encounter happened a day ago, Alfred still didn't believe him, and just the thought of them hurting Arthur made his blood boil.

His quiet rage was interrupted by a soft groan, which inclined the prince to light a candle. Once lit, he turned to face his omega, who was still a deathly pale. However, it seems his little nap was over because his eyes were once again open, searching the room silently. Alfred caressed his cheek softly before sitting up, figuring that he had slept enough anyway. For the last 3 days or so, the brit, despite needing all the rest he could get, would only take brief infrequent naps, leaving Alfred at most 5 hours of sleep. He didn't want to be asleep while the other was awake, in case he needed something. The brit was somehow recovering, moving, breathing and drinking like normal. He just hadn't spoken yet, but he had tried; it just came out as nonsense.

The omega groaned again, rolling over to his side, back towards the wall. Alfred placed a soft kiss on his lips, not surprised when he felt no pressure in return. He yawned loudly, stretching. He was really counting on the brit sleeping for a few more hours. He sighed, albeit a little disappointed. "You have bad timing, babe." he chuckled, looking down into the other's bloodshot eyes. Under the warm glow of the candle, Arthur looked disturbing. Yes, he was pale, but that was hardly the reason why. Though Alfred knew the brit was looking at him, he only knew could he could sort of feel the gaze. However, Arthur's eyes itself were hollow and it was hard to tell what he was actually looking at because of how dull his eyes were. Not to mention the contrast between green and red was sharp, and paired with everything else it was just creepy.

"Still, you're gorgeous." He thought outloud. "Even with those crosses on you. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I wish I could have been there with you." He was rambling, but he was extremely happy. "I love you, so much. Sometimes I think..." He stopped himself. "Nevermind." He sighed, taking out some papers from underneath his pillow. He began to read again, but he couldn't concentrate. "Actually... I know you're too good for me, and that you deserve better, and sometimes I think you life would have been 100 times better without me. Exponentially. So I want to make you an offer..." He trailed off as the brit suddenly sat up, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. Alfred could only stare, unsure of what to do. "Umm? You okay-"

"What's your offer?" he muttered, voice weak. The prince flinched, the brit was actually talking. He couldn't see his face, but he figured the brit wanted it that way.

"Um... yes, of course. If you want to leave me, and pursue the british crown, I'll endorse you to the rest of europe." His voice was shallow, feeling a little unsafe. He felt his heart race as the brit slowly turned his head to face him. Holy fuck. He was half expecting to see a grotesque face, however, he was just met with the wet, pained eyes of his lover, and trembling lips. Guilt washed over him as he crawled over to his lover, who had began to sob. Arthur scooted away from the other, rolling over to his side so that he back was facing the American. "Arthur." He pressed his chest against his back, pulling some soft strands back behind the omega's ears. "Arthur, what's wrong?" The smaller shook wildly as he cried, mumbling in another language. "What?" Alfred climbed over the brit so he didn't have to strain himself. Once they were face to face, the brit spoke.

"W-why does ev-everyone think I'm g-going to leave you?" He rubbed at his tears, and Alfred shook his head, the other completely misunderstanding.

"No, no, no. We just want to make sure you're happy. We want to give you a chance to back out." His soft voice did nothing to soothe his lover, in fact the brit began to cry harder. Alfred tried to hush him, forcing himself not to feel annoyed. However, after 3 minutes of continuous crying, he had lost his patience. "Arthur, hush!" he snapped, the other flinching as he quieted down. The prince instantly felt bad, but the brit began to wrap his arms around his neck. Alfred hummed; so he likes aggressive. "I said I love, got that. I want nothing more than your happiness, and if I don't make you happy, I want to know." His voice was commanding, and he could feel the other shake under his authority. "I said I want to know." he repeated himself through clenched teeth. The brit gasped lightly.

"I love you." He said meekly under the other's watchful eyes. "Which is why I respectfully decline your offer." Alfred smiled, pressing his lips softly against the other, whose lips didn't move.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked, mildly offended. Arthur shook his head.

"I wanna brush my teeth before we get into that." He explained, and the prince nodded.

"Can you move?" He asked, standing up, ready to be used as a crutch to help him.

"No. But can you get me some water?" Alfred nodded obediently, leaving the room to retrieve some water. When he had arrived, Arthur was on the lying on the bed again, the blankets pulled over his head. Alfred walked over to him with the glass of water in his hand. He hummed in order to get the other's attention, but there was no response.

"Artie?" He placed a hand on the other's shoulder, feeling the other trembling. He tugged the blanket off of his face, ignoring the sound of shattering glass as he dropped his cup. For the first time in Alfred's life, he was truly petrified. "Artie?" he rushed to his side, lifting the spasming figure. He was foaming from his mouth, and his eyes were rolled to the back of his head. "Guards! Guards! Guards!" he screamed, flipping Arthur onto his stomach. "Guards!"


1 hour later...

Alfred was slowly rocking back and forth, ignoring the worried looks of John, Arnold and Allister. The redhead had called it a fit, a seizure due to overexertion. He was stabilized, but none of them knew for how long. The brit's presence had weakened at the back of the prince's head, an unfortunate warning sign. Oh God, he isn't gonna die, is he? He was fine a moment before, he even asked for water, and he had even told him that he loved him. Alfred pulled at his hair, blinking away the tears. Why does this keep happening? What does the world have against Arthur?

"If you stop thinking about it, this process will be much easier." Allister advised, placing his palm on his brother's forehead. "He's not dying-"

"Excuse me?! You didn't walk in one him fucking tweaking with his eyes looking at the back of his head! You said he'd be better in a few days! This isn't fucking better you stupid piece of shit!" He stood up suddenly, the trio taking a step back. "What were you giving him?!" He demanded. "What fucking herbs were you giving him?! You're fucking killing him yourself, you sick-"

"Alfred!" John yelled, the group completely shocked at his irrationality. "Alfred-"

"Shut the FUCK UP! YOU HAVE NO fucking CLUE what's going on!" he barked, glaring at the harold, Arnold taking a step behind in order to escape rage. The prince turned his heated gaze back at the redhead, who had his hands up in defense. "What's happening to him? And tell me the fucking truth!" Allister stared at him blankly for a moment. Alfred's throat began to vibrate as he practically roared, taking another threatening threat forward. The redhead jumped back, nodding rapidly. Alfred turned to the older men. "Get the hell out! Now!" The pair scrambled away without resistance. Alfred dropped to his knees, suddenly exhausted. "oh fuck." He whispered. Allister cleared his throat.

"I couldn't tell earlier, but I'm certain that he's actually in a middle of his transition." Alfred shot him a confused look, the redhead elaborating. "Witches go through a transition to their full magical capacity. It usually happens a lot earlier, but I guess this is another area where he was just a late bloomer." Alfred nodded. So this was normal? "No, it's not normal. Usually it's not this dragged out, but considering he was impaled and almost died, the transition is slower and more laborious on his body." Alfred narrowed his eyes at the redhead.

"Okay." he mumbled. Something about him wasn't sitting right. Why was he so compliant? Why was he... he stood up again, energy suddenly returning. "Where's the other one?!" Allister looked confused. "Where the hell is the blond?!" Allister blinked wildly.

"Seamus? I-I sent him home. I don't know what this is-"

"You're lying." Alfred said softly. "Seamus is still here. He's looking for something, or he's here for someone." he muttered. Allister shook his head, but Alfred rolled his eyes. "Cut the crap, you know you aren't scared! You didn't come here to deliver Arthur, what're you really here for?" Allister backed away. "Who are you here for? You could have killed me in the courtyard, just as Seamus could have killed Arthur in the forest. Why are you dragging this out? What are you stalling for?" He approached the redhead. "You couldn't care less about Arthur, what do you want?"

Allister's shocked face quickly contorted to that of mild surprise and amusement, before laughing maniacally. "You're much smarter than you look; a hell of a lot smarter than I thought you'd be." he growled. Alfred gasped; he was actually right?

"You were behind all of this?" he needed confirmation. The redhead shrugged. "What do you want?"

"Your signature."


Alfred's POV...

The next morning...

He knew he was a coward for handling it the way he is, but he didn't want to be there when Arthur learned the truth. Alfred, Arnold and John ate breakfast quietly, the other two learning of the truth earlier that morning. Every one of of them was sick to their stomach, unsure how to move on from this point. On the bright side, it wasn't the quirky palace sorcerer Alfred knew and loved who was behind this. Instead it was... He didn't even want to think of it to be honest, he had Allister and Seamus write out their crimes in a letter they were to leave on the foot of Arthur's bed. Alfred could only imagine his devastation.

Alfred had a feeling the other was awake, but he couldn't detect a change in mood, so perhaps he just hadn't found the letter. Suddenly a sharp pain coursed through the prince, causing him to sink into his chair in shock. Nope, he took it back, the brit was awake. "I need to go comfort him." He said suddenly, standing up shakily, walking as fast as he can without losing balance. He left the room and rushed down the hall, already hearing Arthur's cries of anguish. Alfred ignored the concerned glances of the people in the halls as he grabbed the door handle to their chamber, swearing as he found it locked. "Arthur! Arthur!" he shoved the door, trying to force it open. "Arthur open the door!"

"NOoOOOOooo! Go AwAy! Go awaaay~!" He sobbed, voice hoarse. "I-I-I-I..." his voice cracked. "I-i want to be alone." He begged, and Alfred, though his heart broke, agreed.

"Okay."

~~~~ Wounded Knight~~~~

Alfred drank some tea as Arnold kept him company. The older was staring at the side of his face, wanting to know the prince's opinion on everything no doubt. Alfred glared at him as an answer to his unvoiced request. Arnold pouted.

"You have to admit, the plan was very elaborate." He said gruffly. The American hummed. "I mean," he continued, "To disguise yourself as a mayor, then as a snake-monster and kidnap and torture your brother just to rescue him as your normal self in order to gain his trust is just insane. And to use him as a way to get into a close enough proximity to steal the prince's signature in order to remove the rest of U.S troops from England is just crazier." he summed up the whole ordeal pretty well.

Dylan disguised himself as mayor Deen, and then that monster. He took Arthur to England, tortured him nonstop for days until the Kirkland brothers came to rescue him, the brit being so broken that he would allow anyone to help. For a month they made him feel at home, like he was loved and wanted, however, they were just using him as leverage. Originally they were going to demand the signature as ransom in return for Arthur, but they eventually decided on putting a slow acting curse that was going to slowly incapacitate him, so he'd be easier to kill. They hardly knew Arthur, they weren't going to give him claim to the throne. By the time Alfred arrived, all Arthur needed was a few triggers to send him spiralling into a blackhole of misfortune. They stressed him out about staying, then Dylan, under the guise of a helpful voice, drew Arthur to the cliff, eventually becoming the beast and throwing him off the cliff.

However, Dylan wasn't aware of the last minute changes to the plan, realizing that if they killed Arthur too early, they wouldn't get the signature. However, Arthur was already plummeting to his death, and the pair was sure he was going to die. However, his powers kicked in just in time, saving his life and sending him into transition. While they treated Arthur's wounds, the herbs they used were known to slow down magical processes, hindering Arthur's recovery. Arthur's seizure was his body's attempt at removing the toxins. In return for the signature, they would remove the curse and all of it's properties. So Alfred signed it, under one condition: They never contact Arthur again. They agreed, promising they'll contact him directly from now on.

"They're awful people." He spat, and Arnold shrugged.

"I've known good people who've done worse things." he sighed. Alfred eyed him, curious. "I don't want to delve into anyone's dirty laundry." He said. Alfred shrugged understanding. "But if you insist your highness-"

"I'm not-"

"It all started about 20 years ago." he started, and the prince rolled his eyes.

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

That night...

Alfred hesitantly pushed the door, pleased to see that it was unlocked. He was even more pleased to see the room spotless, and the brit safely tucked in bed with a book in his hands. He walked in and closed the door behind him, not wanting to make eye contact just yet. He locked it shut and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When he had come out, Arthur was still in the same spot, still reading. This is great.

"Are you coming to bed soon?" Arthur asked, and the American grimaced. His voice... it was so raw.

"Do you want me to get you some tea?" He offered as he changed into his nightwear. The brit shrugged, not looking up from his book. "I'll get you some tea." he decided, opening the door and calling over the closest person. "Hey, can we have a few glasses of tea? Thank you." He closed the door softly, turning in time to see the brit set down the book and rub his eyes. "Are you okay?" Arthur shrugged.

"No, but I'm as close to okay as I could be for a while." He said snarkily. There was an awkward pause. "What? No hum?" he said, getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom. While he was in there, the tea had arrived, and Alfred had set it on the table, pouring the cups himself. Arthur exited the bathroom completely naked, pulling on one of Alfred's shirts. But before that, Alfred finally got a good look at all the crosses littering the brit's body, counting seven. The brit could feel his eyes as he snuggled into the shirt. It happened to be Alfred's favorite daytime shirt, and the prince felt his eye twitch, however, Arthur's in a state of emotional distress, so he didn't say anything. "Ooo, tea." he grabbed a cup and sipped it. "It's good."

"Yeah?... You okay?" Alfred asked awkwardly, having no other means to actually bring up the conversation. Arthur shrugged.

"It hurts, thinking about it. I mean, but what did I expect; they don't know me, and they don't care about me. All the laughs were fake, the drinking games were fake, the sandwich making competitions were fake; they were all fake." he spoke slowly. "It was all a scheme." He smiled bitterly. "I wish nothing but the worst for them." Alfred sighed; at least they were on the same page.

"I'm sorry for everything that has happened." Alfred said weakly, and Arthur nodded his head.

"It wasn't your fault." he said softly. "And it wasn't your mother's fault. I'm sorry for accusing her, again." He offered, and the prince waved it off.

"No need, I believed she did it too, for a time." He stood up and yawned. "Just focus on your tea." He advised, heading towards the bed, sleepy. "Come to bed when you are ready."

"Okay." the brit said softly, downing his glass of tea and pouring himself another one. "Sweet dreams."

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

4 hours later...

Alfred woke up at the sound of something rattling. He felt around for Arthur, who was safely tucked into his side. Then what the hell was making that noise? He lit the candle and looked around, not noticing anything at first; the windows were even closed. For a second he thought he was just imagining it until he heard the sound of stomping hooves outside his bedroom door. They sounded heavier than the average horse's step, and he couldn't hear any neighing or anything of the sort. Instead he heard a loud growl as the door ripped open, the brit jumping awake, looking around in shock, then horror, and then proceeding to scream.

Alfred reached underneath the mattress for his sword, grabbing the hilt, and swinging it out. He leaped out of bed and stood at the foot of it, looking the creature straight in the eye. It was essentially a minotaur: a half bull half human hybrid. It was around 14 feet tall, and it had an axe about the size of Alfred slung over his shoulder. The American used most of his strength to stop his knees from buckling, Arthur levitating a vase, poised to throw it at the beast. The minotaur only stared at them with unblinking black eyes.

"I come in peace."

It spoke. And it came in peace. Alfred sighed in relief, Arthur still holding his vase up in fear. "Just because he says he comes in peace, doesn't mean he actually comes in peace!" He spat, and Alfred regained his composure.

"But I do come in peace." He said. "And I come with a message from the Order." What?

"Who?" Arthur asked, putting down the vase. The minotaur took out a letter and placed it on the table next to the empty tea cups.

"I must leave, more messages to deliver." he said abruptly, and he walked out of the room, Alfred and Arthur staring after in him in shock. Alfred retrieved the letter and handed it to Arthur. While Arthur opened it, the prince scooped him up into his arms and walked out of the room, going to the nearest empty guest room. The brit didn't seem to mind being carried, reading over the letter over and over. The American actually didn't want to know what it said, just wanting a safe place to spend the night. He eventually found an empty room and settled Arthur down there, leaving briefly to retrieve his sword. He'll probably need it.

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

"So, this is just a congratulatory letter for your transition?" Alfred asked, and the brit nodded.

"I believe so." He muttered.

"Well that's nice." Alfred said, yawning. Arthur shrugged.

"They could have sent a less destructive messenger." He pointed out. "But I guess it's sweet." He flopped down on the bed, tucking himself into Alfred. "How are you still tired after all this?" The omega whispered, kissing the other's collar bone. "You'd think after a mythical creature bursted into your bedroom that you'd be too paranoid to do sleep." Alfred hummed, allowing the kisses to continue as he dozed off.

"I dunno, I'm just sleepy." He muttered. Arthur hummed back, sitting up in order to blow out the candle. Once he had, he tucked himself back into his mate and began to draw tiny crosses on his chest. Alfred slowly opened his eyes; not recalling the other to be religious. He made a grab for Arthur's hand, startling the smaller, but he didn't pull away. "Is there anything you want to say?" Alfred asked, masking his annoyance well. Arthur shook his head. "Is there anything you want to do? Eat? Drink?" He asked, and Arthur sat up, relighting the candle. He turned slowly to his mate, eyes shimmering in confusion.

"Are you getting at something?" he asked quickly. "Because if you are, ask it outright, I'm tired of the mind games." he deadpanned, crossing his legs. As he did so, his shirt rode up and the prince could see his thighs. Alfred's eyes lapped up the milky smooth complexion of the skin, taking note of the brand mark. Despite the blemish, the skin still looked tantalizing. He licked his lips.

"Do you wanna talk about your feelings?" he asked softly, and Arthur narrowed his eyes at him.

"No."

"Are you sure?" He asked, sitting up and leaning his back against the headboard. Arthur nodded. "Any concerns, doubts etc?" The brit groaned.

"No." he spat. "I'm fine, I mean it. Now go to sleep, you have a busy day tomorrow." He ordered, blowing out the candle and flopping onto the bed again, Alfred wiggling in beside him. The American took the liberty to bury his nose in the other's hair, hand caressing his thigh. Arthur allowed it, placing an arm around Alfred's waist, and burying his nose in the other's neck, close to his gland. The prince growled lightly, his hand traveling up the other's shirt, rubbing his side. The brit gasped as the cold hand travelled over his abdomen, brushing another of his scars. The prince kept touching the tender skin, using his thigh to touch the scars in between the other's legs. The omega began to place soft kisses on his neck, occasionally biting softly.

Alfred grew impatient, so he hooked a hand underneath Arthur and pulled him on top of himself, simultaneously sitting up. Arthur's face remained buried in his neck, the prince groaning as he relit the candle. He looked down to see that the smaller was a bright red, body shaking a little, hands clinging to his shirt. The American used a finger to hook the omega's chin, making him look up at the other. His green orbs were blown out, his wild hair sticking out everywhere. His soft pink lips looked moist, inclining the prince to press it against his. The kiss started off gentle, but before long, The brit opened his mouth, giving the prince further access.

The prince grabbed the end of Arthur's shirt and tugged over his head, momentarily breaking the kiss. He removed his own shirt and boxers as Arthur watched him, the omega completely naked. The brit straddled him once more, lips connecting in a heated kiss. Alfred rubbed the brit's body all over, hands finally settling on his bottom cheeks, slapping and then massaging them. The brit whimpered into the kiss, pulling away with a moan. The prince quickly forced a pink bud into his mouth, biting down softly at the sound of Arthur's moan. The prince would spend thirty seconds on each nipple before switching to the other one, despite the lewd pleads from Arthur.

The brit's member was leaking already, the prince having a strong urge to spoil the other. He wrapped his strong hand around the muscle and began to pump, stroking him softly. The contact obviously caught the other off guard, gasping and moaning as he tried to move away. The American secured him in place by wrapping his free arm around his waist, pulling him in. The brit thrashed around a bit before he accepted his fate, allowing his body to be ravished. The prince continued to pump him, smirking at the wild look in the other's eyes as he finished all over him. Arthur panted as the prince flipped them over so that Arthur was now on his back.

The prince wanted to make sure the other knew the knew scars did nothing to change how attractive he was. He lifted the brit's left leg and began to kiss the cross on his calf. The brit's face was red again, hands in his own hair as he watched the prince lick his calf. Alfred switched to the next one, kissing the scar passionately. After a few more minutes of appreciation, he moved down to the crosses on his inner thighs. His tongue lapped over the blemish on his left thigh, kissing and sucking it. He could feel Arthur shake as he moved to the next one, repeating the treatment. He then moved up to his stomach, kissing it as he used his hands to toy with his pink buds. Alfred purred as the omega's back arched. Arthur wrapped his legs around his torso, bucking his hips forward. Alfred shoved his fingers in the other's mouth, the brit sucking them vigorously. Once each digit was coated with saliva, Alfred flipped him over for better access.

He inserted one cool finger, noting the way Arthur's walls closed on him. He began to move the finger as he draped himself over the brit's body, dragging his tongue up his back. Once he got to the crosses on his shoulder blades, he inserted another finger, spreading them apart in a scissoring motion. Arthur gasped and moaned underneath him as his shoulders were assaulted with licks and kisses. Alfred added another finger, curling his fingers. "Ngh~" The brit fell limp, having ejaculated for the second time in the last 30 or so minutes. He panted as the prince removed his fingers, turning around onto his back. "Go in dry." He ordered, and Alfred quirked a brow.

"You'll tear." He warned, shaking his head. He dug around in the nightstand for any kind of oil, not wanting to leave or use saliva as a lubricant. After having no luck, he groaned, stretching. "I guess I'll just-" He was interrupted by the brit jumping and straddling him. "Arthur, I'm not going in dry." He said sternly, but the other kissed him passionately, stroking his neglected member. The prince sucked in a breath, Arthur slowly aligning it to his entrance. "Arthur, I said no." He said, pushing the other away lightly. The brit whimpered desperately.

"Let me suck you."

"But that sucks as a lubricant." he deadpanned. Arthur growled at the prince, Alfred hushing him. "Do you want your ass to tear?"

"Yes!" Arthur shouted, and Alfred stared at him incredulously. "I'll heal by morning, I'm magical." Alfred still wasn't convinced. "I survived a 60 foot drop, I don't think not using lube will kill me." He argued, and the prince scowled as he climbed over his small body. He pulled a leg over his shoulder and aligned his member with his entrance. He pushed in slowly, watching the other's face intently. The omega's eyes were already watering despite the prince not being halfway in yet. Arthur threw his head back as he gripped the sheets, panting as his hole was stretched. Once the prince was fully sheathed in the uncomfortably tight heat, he waited for the other's body to relax so he could move. In the meantime, he sucked on Arthur's neck gland, causing the brit's backside to lubricate itself. Arthur began to move against him, Alfred taking that as a signal to move.

He started off slow, the brit still tight at first. Eventually his thrusts got faster, the prince losing the will to hold back. Arthur seemed to be completely fine with it, releasing scream like moans. He tugged on the alpha's hair and dragged his face down to his neck. "Bite me." he begged. "Please." Alfred nodded, lapping his desired spot and sucking the gland. He wrapped his arms around the other's waist and pulled him onto his lap, forcing the other to ride him. the brit's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he let out silent screams, dragging his nails down the other's back. The prince watched as Arthur threw his head back, preparing to orgasm before he stopped. It took the brit a moment to realize what was happening, looking at his lover in confusion. "What?" He whined, grinding his hips. Alfred bit his lips, continuing, unsure himself as to why he had stopped. He could feel his own end coming as he thrusted faster and deeper into the brit, taking the other in his palm as to speed up the process. Arthur came without interruption, the prince following right after. Arthur panted, wrapping his arms around Alfred as he used his boxers to clean them up.

The pair flopped down on the bed, the prince leaving a trail of butterfly kisses on his cheeks. Alfred pulled the blanket over them, but only after noticing the blood stains on the bed sheets. "You better be good as new in the morning." He threatened, and the Arthur purred in response.