Author's note: As you all know, my story was first published about a little over a year ago. As you can tell, the brunt of the conflict has ended, and it is heading towards a speedy resolve. I'm here to inform you all that this will be my second to last author's note. I know this because I had just finished writing the last chapter to this story. It may seem unfinished to some of you guys, but that is intentional. I'll probably write a one shot about their lives a couple of years later, and answer some unresolved questions.
Arthur frowned as he struggled to keep the whimpering toddler in his arms. The other royals were all staring at him, silently judging, probably assuming the child was his. He ignored the whispers, however, making his way out of the reception, heading up to his bed chambers. As the halls grew silent, a bad feeling overcame the brit. He suddenly stopped and looked around, holding Julius impossibly closer. He could see a shadow whip around the corner; he was being followed. He paused for a moment before continuing to his room, at a much faster rate. In fact, he was almost running, the toddler in his arms giggling. The brit couldn't hear anyone follow him, but he didn't want to slow down to check.
He had finally made it to his room, slamming the door and locking it. He breathed in and out heavily, putting Julius down. "Go wait for me in the bed." He ordered through broken breaths, the child complying obediently. Arthur slipped off his shoes, wiggling his toes in relief. Running in his heels made his feet go numb. He walked over to the bed, only to see Julius undressing. The brit sighed. "Sweetie, it's only 3 o'clock, it's not time for bed." He said softly, moving to put his green silk tunic back on him. The child shook his head, running around the king sized bed to evade the brit. "Julius~" Arthur called, trying to show the other that he was serious. The child still shook his head.
"I wanna look like mama." He pouted, the brit feeling his heart skip. The blonde little boy ran towards Arthur's dresser, pulling open the drawers. The brit took a seat on the bed, smiling.
"You want to look like me?" He asked, mystified. The child nodded his head. Arthur blushed. "I'm your mama?" The boy, once again, nodded. The brit tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "I'm going to call for the stylist-"
There was a sudden bang on the door, both blondes freezing in shock. Julius went to go open it, Arthur having to lurch forward and grab him. It has to be the one who was following him. The toddler looked at him in shock as Arthur rushed him into the bathroom, telling him to be quiet. The brit had no idea why he didn't hide in the bathroom with him, but the door was shaking under all that banging, the wooden frame looking as if it would burst from it's hinges. He couldn't let whoever it was find the both of them. He stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him, saying a soft prayer. He approached the door in acute fear, rushing over to his dresser to retrieve a dagger. It wasn't his first one, he had lost that in England, but rather it was one he had gotten from Chancy. It was a cursed weapon that left the enemy with chronic pain for an hour. He held it behind his back as he approached the door, calling out softly.
"Who is it?" he asked, the banging momentarily stopping, only for it to start up again, more fiercely. Arthur gasped , stumbling back in fear, tripping on his heels. He landed on backside, his dagger nicking his side. He swore, flinging the dagger away in shock. The door was loosening on it's hinges, the lock breaking. He crawled towards the bathroom in shock, what was- "Agghhh!" Arthur curled up into a ball, a pain shooting up from his side. He screamed in agony, the curse settling in. He could hear Julius begin to cry, the banging on the door finally stopping. Arthur attempted to get Julius, but he couldn't see straight, and every movement felt as if he was being skinned alive. He cried out again, the bathroom door swinging open, the toddler rushing out. Arthur gathered all of his strength to speak. "Hide... Please~" he begged, Julius staring at the tattered door in fear. The brit groaned. "Please Julius, hide for mama." He whimpered.
Alfred was in the middle of slow dancing with Gilbert when the doors of the great hall flung open, guards rushing in. The music stopped playing as the crowd of dancers parted, everyone looking around in shock. Alfred scanned the hall for Arthur... Arthur? Suddenly a sharp pain zapped through his body, the king gripping his head as he fell to his knees. Matthew was by his side in a second, however, the pain was just getting worse and worse, the king eventually screaming at the top of his lungs, rolled up into a ball, lying on his side. A small pair of hands began touching his shoulder, well, more like hitting, the king forcing his eyes open. Everything was blurry, his eyes streaming with tears. He blinked as much as he could, but each blink felt as if he was stabbing his eye lids. When his vision became semi-normal, he recognized his attacker to be Julius, who too looked as if he were in a lot of pain. Alfred sat up shakily, his skin feeling raw and battered. His senses weren't working, the boy looking as if he were yelling, but he couldn't hear him. The toddler kept on hitting him, Alfred growling in protest.
"Mama... ma..." Alfred could only hear every few syllables.
"Wah?" he groaned.
"Someone hurt mama! Mama's hurt!" he cried, his voice raw. Alfred rolled onto his stomach, forcing himself up. Julius grabbed his hand and began leading him, each step taking a huge toll on Alfred. The king only realized they were heading to his bedchamber when they were just down the hall, a crowd of palace personnel surrounding the door. Julius lead Alfred into the room, Arthur's wedding dress sprawled on the floor. For a moment, Alfred thought the worst had happened, rushing his way deeper into the chamber. He found Arthur on the bed, with a warm towel on his head. He would have lunged himself at the other, if his legs didn't give out.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
Alfred woke up to the sound of soft sobbing. He squinted his eyes over to his side, to see Arthur snuggled up against his side. Who was crying? He looked around, glad to see the pain was gone completely, he wasn't even sore. He frowned. Then what was that? He shook his mate awake, who shot up.
"Julius!" Was the first thing he said. Alfred bit his lip. The brit threw his legs over the side of the mattress when he too noticed the crying. He slowly retreated back into bed, afraid. The king sighed, crawling out instead. The noise was coming from the bathroom. The American swore, baring his teeth.
"Who's in there?" He asked, pushing open the door. He looked inside to see a sobbing Julius curled up in a ball. Alfred didn't ask, not really having the energy. He scooped up the child and brought him to bed, Arthur sitting up in concern, opening his arms wide. The child then proceeded to bury himself in the blonde's chest, sobbing into his nightwear.
"I'm sorry mama!" The child cried, Arthur stroking his head. Alfred quirked a brow, unsure as to when he started to refer to Arthur as his mother. "You told me stay in the bathroom but I didn't. But you're not mad, right?" The brit scooted closer to his mate, sandwiching the child between them.
"Thank you for not listening to me." Arthur said softly. "Thank you for calling for help." He kissed the toddler on the head, the blond head of curls turning to face the king. Alfred rested his head on the child's chest, Julius laughing.
"I'm sorry for hitting you... daddy." The child whispered, the king feeling a warm sensation course through him. He felt the kid kiss the top of his head, and he blushed.
"I'm glad you did, otherwise I would have stayed on the floor." He thanked the other. "Did we scare you?" Alfred asked, looking up into the blue eyes of the other.
"Yes" he said meekly.
"We're sorry." Arthur said softly, stroking his hair. He sat up, stretching his arms above his head. "I don't think we've been asleep for a more than 2 hours." He frowned, yawning. "I don't think I want to go back though." Alfred sat up also, caressing the omega's face.
"What happened?" He mumbled, the brit looking down in guilt. Alfred waited patiently for him to answer, the brit sneezing.
"Well," he mumbled. "I was screwing around with that dagger-"
"The one Chancy gave you?" The king sighed. The frenchman had given the dagger to Arthur as a late birthday gift, advising the brit to practice with it sheathed before trying it on another person. The king scrunched up his nose, the pair never having an occasion to actually practice with it. He partly blamed himself, the brit honestly having no idea what he was doing, but then again, he knew he had no idea what he was doing. He was reckless. "Is the baby alright?" He asked quietly, the brit nodding.
"I can feel it's presence." He assured, the king sighing in relief. "I was going to use it in self defense. There was someone trying to break into the room, so I had Julius hide in the bathroom. I tripped and fell and cut myself with the knife. Then the banging stopped." He explained, blushing slightly. Alfred frowned. So that's why he was unconscious when he came. He had assumed the worse when he had seen his dress on the ground.
"Someone was trying to break in?" He began to hum, drifting into deep thought. Who would have known he was in here? Did they follow him? How? Why? He hardly noticed the child crawl underneath his blanket. Arthur stood up and went to the bathroom.
"I'm gonna attempt to fix my makeup." he muttered. Alfred remained on the bed, only mildly aware that he was half dressed. The child remained underneath the blanket, not making a sound. He was just balled up.
"Julius," the prince said without much thought, the child emerging from the blanket. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, the child nodding. "Did you see anyone suspicious?" The prince figured he'd cover all of his bases. The child didn't respond. The king quirked a brow, finding his silence odd. "Julius?" The blonde child began to pout, eyes glistening. Alfred tried to reached out to grab him before the child bursted out in tears, but the toddler was already crying. He was loud, very loud, Arthur emerging from the bathroom in concern.
"What did you do?!" He snapped, Alfred glaring at him in offense.
"Excuse me?!" Arthur walked over and scooped up the child, shooting Alfred a dirty look as he tried to calm him. "I only asked him a question!" He struggled to explain, Arthur ignoring him completely and taking the child into the bathroom with him.
"Do you wanna look like mama?" He asked in a soft voice, the toddler nodding as he caught his breath. "Okay, let's do our makeup." Alfred frowned. Make up?
"Can't you tell?" He asked suddenly, Arthur turning to look at him with mild annoyance.
"Can't I tell what?" Julius was sniffling in his arms, his entire face red. Alfred bit his lip. The child shouldn't be wearing makeup, it's clear that he's an alpha. The king wanted to tell his husband that putting makeup on an alpha child is seen as irresponsible and inappropriate, if they're male that is. However, Arthur looked upset already, and bring this up could anger him even more, and on their wedding day at that. He pouted. "Are you just going to keep staring?" The brit snapped, the king quirking a brow.
"Nevermind." he sighed bitterly, the brit continuing to the bathroom. The American just hoped that Arthur wouldn't be criticised to his face.
6 hours later...
It was dinner now, the mood returning to it's light heartedness prior to the king's unexpected collapse. The food was exquisite, smoked ham, turkey, fresh bread, and platters of fresh fruits and vegetables. The king and his queen sat beside each other, Julius at the kiddy table with kids his own age. The toddler almost cried when the king told him to sit with his friends, the child claiming he didn't have any. Arthur suggested he sat with them, but Alfred could already feel the judgment in the air, he didn't want anyone to strike up a conversation about the child's makeup, or his background.
Alfred glanced over at Julius, who looked miserable amongst the other aristocratic children. The king groaned. He felt guilt creep into his heart, perhaps he should have let him sit with the adults. Arthur was currently talking to Chancy about the situation that played out earlier, the Frenchman in tears. He found it hilarious, so much so that he had almost choked 4 times. Arthur at first was offended, but eventually he began to dramatize the event to make the other omega laugh harder. Davie and Marshal were talking over the king, who pulled out of the conversion half an hour ago. The whole conversation was dumb really, what's the best way to clean a sword. The King initiated the discussion, but when he realized the pair were going in depth about where the go to get the supplies, and how long the should sit down and clean it, Alfred knew he opened a can of worms. Davie actually cleans his sword for 3 hours, just thinking about it makes the king frown. It was just so... extra. In total Alfred spends 5 hours cleaning and repairing his armor and swords. Like, seriously, he couldn't imagine cleaning one item for three hours.
The king brushed a strand of hair behind his ear, struggling to see the end of the table. His eyesight was just getting worse and worse. He bit his lips. The prospect of wearing those red glasses... he shivered. He used to pride himself for his eyes, and one would think that as a lycan, he would have amazing eyesight. However, since that side of him was unlocked, it eyesight had taken a turn for the worse. He found himself growing dependent on his glasses in his office, not being able to read fine print without it. He could, of course, just find a better pair of glasses, but the thing is... he didn't want to ask. He had gotten those glasses as a birthright, in case he needed them. No royal since his great, great, great, great, great grandfather Ulysses had worn glasses because royal are so insecure. So a secret pair was passed down to avoid embarrassment. The king found wearing the red glasses unbearable, though. He would have to suck up the pride from the last 7 generations and ask for new ones.
The thought of it made him panic slightly. It was still enough for Arthur to feel it, the blond suddenly looking at the American in concern. He shook his head, smiling, encouraging the other to continue his conversation. The American tried to distract himself, looking around the table of happy faces. He had made eye contact with Thomas, who was currently talking to Isabelle and Julia about who knows what. He smiled and waved, the king waving back with one of his best faux smiles, another shot of guilt hitting his heart. Tommie was so pure. His father is a beast, but Tommie was so pure. He wouldn't have felt as bad if Tommie hated his dad, but the two were as close as ever. Alfred was already settling on exile, but he could still see that shattering his friend. Maybe he should talk to his father, Charles, first. Get his side of things, seeing that the old man and his mother still talk on occasion. The queen-mother wasn't the type to let go of a grudge unless there was a real good reason.
He hadn't even noticed Thomas come over until Davie and Marshal yelled out his name, like the childish duo they were. He began to panic again, the brit turning to him once more in confusion. The king shook his head, turning to Tommie and beginning to chat. "What were you and the ladies talking about?" He asked, the knight pouting.
"They were criticizing my hat." Alfred looked up at the black feathered hat, pursing his lips.
"I don't know how I feel about it." he lied. The king knew full well that he hated the hat, however he hated pretty much all hats. Thomas shrugged.
"The one thing I've noticed while living in the palace all of my life, is that no one here, aside from my dear Annabelle, has a decent taste of fashionable headwear." Alfred nodded, realizing this conversation was going to head in a completely different direction from what the king was expecting. "However, let's not focus on me, it's your wedding night." He smiled brightly, the king having a brief flashback of when they were all kids. All young, pale, running around in the kitchen trying to steal bread. He shook his head, blinking wildly.
"Yep, it's my wedding night." He said, taking a sip of water from his cup. He couldn't drink wine or anything alcoholic, for Arthur's sake. He hadn't told Arthur yet, but they'd still need to consummate the marriage that night, under the supervision of the pastor, the priest, and the queen-mother. Of course they'll be a curtain, so they'll only see shadows, and they won't be there for the entire time, just the for the first 3 minutes or so. At least that's what John had told him. The king was made aware of that early that morning, he couldn't find the right time to bring it up. Matter of fact, he couldn't find the right time to bring many things up. He still hadn't told Arthur what Earl had told him about the council. He pursed his lips, Thomas smirking.
"Oh c'mon, it wouldn't be your first time with him, so don't be nervous." He declared, the king hushing him in annoyance. The king told him. "You haven't told him yet? You do realize he could be using this time to prepare." He mumbled. The king shook his head.
"I was advised not to. The pastor needs to see a bloodstain or some bullshit." He said in his defense, the knight shrugging.
"Your husband, not mine." He took Alfred's glass and sipped from it, recoiling when he realized it was water. "It's your wedding night, so drink!" He downed the rest of the water, and poured some wine in his glass. "Here." Alfred groaned, taking a sip. He hummed.
"It's really good, holy shit." he whispered, taking another sip. Thomas nodded.
"I had placed an order 2 months ago, while you went back to England. The wine is over 2 centuries old." He explained, Alfred giving him a quick thank you. It was so rich, Alfred would have drank straight from the bottle if he weren't at such a formal event. "Aren't I perfect?" Tommie asked, Marshall interrupting with a quick 'no'. The two began to argue, like they always do, Davie turning his attention to the king.
"Are you okay?" he asked, the king nodding. "Good, but you should refrain from drinking." The 2nd in command already knew about the king's situation. The king being drunk could prove a threat to Arthur's safety while they consummated, seeing that he wouldn't be allowed to be prepared. He didn't want to be too rough and tear him too bad. Alfred took one last sip of the wine, well gulp, and placed the cup down.
"Now all that's left is your wedding." Alfred said randomly, Davie sucking his teeth. "What?"
"Ní sin ... phrioctha inconsiderate ag iarraidh a bheith pósta cé tá sé ag iompar clainne gheall ar dóigh leis go mbainfidh sé ag breathnú saill." He spat, the king raising his eyebrows.
"I understood one of those words. 'inconsiderate'. Can you translate the rest?" He picked at his food, filling his cup with tea.
"He thinks he'll look fat if we got married while he's pregnant." He translated. Alfred turned to look at Chancy, who was barely showing.
"You can hardly tell he's pregnant since...you know." He said, turning to his friend. Davie looked confused, but nodded anyway. "You guys can have it within the next 2 months or so, I doubt he'll be showing all that much."
"I know right!" he said a little too loudly, the pair of omegas turning to look at them. Arthur turned back around, but Chancy was still eyeing them blankly, perhaps already knowing what was getting Davie all worked up. Arthur turned to look at the alphas again, shooting them a confused look. Davie slowly looked away from them, Alfred doing the same. The two looked at each other awkwardly before laughing it off.
"That could have ended badly." Alfred chuckled. "But tell him that you guys can do it as soon as possible. Who knows what will happen if you wait too long." Davie nodded grimly. "Anyways~," The king changed the subject. "How was your night? How you doing?" He took another bite of his food. Davie smiled.
"Despite you scaring the shit out of me with your whole collapse, I'm swell." He chuckled, but Alfred could almost hear the panic. He patted Davie's shoulder.
"Relax, I'm indestructible." He assured, the knight frowning.
"Yeah, only when you're prepared. You didn't look very indestructible today. A lot of royals were ready to run off and go home. That scared them a whole lot." He explained, Alfred shrugging.
"Less people, more food for me." He scoffed, the knight shrugging.
"I guess... fatass."
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
That night...
Alfred was in a panic, Davie and Thomas calming him down. Alfred was in rut, for the first time in years. This was bad, very bad.
"Just do your best not to hurt him." Tommie advised, the king glancing at him in shock.
"I'll do my best." he shuddered, Davie patting him.
"Lube, lots of lube." Alfred shook his head.
"The freaking pastors won't let me prepare him. I told John to tell them I'm in rut, but I doubt that'll do anything." The grandfather clock chimed midnight, the king wincing. "I have to go."
"You'll be fine." Tommie said softly, but he didn't sound very sure. Davie stood next to him, nodding in uncertainty.
Arthur's POV...
His cheeks were on fire as he waited for Alfred. He sat naked by the head of the bed, surrounded by curtains, and moist. He had told Chancy of his predicament, who slipped him a small dose of some stimulant. Chancy said the most it will do is make him lubricate. The queen-mother, the priest, and pastor were standing in the corner of the room, silently waiting for the king to come. According to the pastor, the king was in rut, for the first time in years, so he allowed Arthur to briefly prepare himself. A whole generous 3 minutes, as if that would do much to prepare him. The curtains were kinda thin, so they were still able to see Arthur's shadow if he had tried to go over the time limit. The brit cursed himself as he waited.
How could Alfred keep something like this to himself? The brit, just thinking about it, was on the verge of tears. He was scared, and he was embarrassed. No one had told him about any of this before. He sighed, saying a light prayer. He stopped when he suddenly felt his mate's presence draw closer. "He's coming." He informed the witnesses, the door slowly cracking open. The first thing Arthur was greeted with was his alpha's odor. It was thick, and the pheromones made his glands moisten. He began to pant as he heard his mate undress. He laid down on his back, moaning softly. The curtain on one side was lifted, revealing a completely naked king with a fully erect member. His eyes, though hooded, failed to mask his desire, his blue orbs dilating at the sight of his omega.
Alfred crawled into bed, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He crawled over the brit, burying his tongue in the slits of his glands. The englishman gasped softly, running his hands through the other's hair, tugging it lightly. Alfred growled, sending waves of desire through Arthur. He continued to lick his gland, reaching down slowly and cupping the other's member. The king stroked him as he nibbled on the brit's neck, the omega moaning shamelessly. The king pulled away and began to stare down at his meal. He was sitting back on his heels as his large hands grabbed the other's hips, dragging him closer. The brit struggled to stay calm as he was forcefully aligned with the other's member. The queen gulped.
"Alfred." He whimpered, getting the other's attention. "I don't think I'm ready." Arthur felt his eyes water. He was so afraid, needed more than a little gland tickling, he needed preparation. The king stared down at him, eyes flashing with pity.
"If you want to be his husband you'd better suck it up." The queen-mother spoke up, the clergymen hushing her. "Oh, don't hush me! If you can't handle his rut, you can't be his husband." Arthur clenched his jaw, refraining from cursing the woman out. He looked up at Alfred, who had a dark look in his eyes, probably holding himself back. Arthur closed his eyes, wiggling away from the alpha. The American grabbed his thighs, pulling him back. Arthur whimpered as he struggled to get away, begging him.
"Hey, look at me." Alfred said, leaning over his mate. Arthur kept his eyes closed, tears rolling down his cheeks as their foreheads touched. "Don't cry, I'll prepare you." He reached down slowly, inserting a finger. The brit slowly opened his eyes as another finger was inserted. "That's right, look at me." Arthur looked him in the eyes, moaning as he was stretched. He gripped the sheets as he threw his head back, a weight lifted off his shoulders. After a few more thrusts, the clergymen spoke up.
"You must consummate." The pastor said bluntly. "You can proceed how you wish after we leave." Alfred grunted as he pulled away, aligning his member with his entrance. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. He braced himself as the king pushed in, the brit hissed, trying to close his legs instinctively. Alfred pulled them apart, and continued to push in, only getting about half way before Arthur screamed. He felt it, he felt something tear.
"OW!" he shrieked, the American pausing in shock. The priest spoke up this time.
"If you stop now, you'll never be able to continue. Don't drag out the pain." he advised, Alfred staring at the curtain in confusion. Arthur panted under him, praying softly. Alfred leaned over him once more, kissing his forehead.
"I'm sorry, but they're right." He muttered, Arthur looking up at him in pain. He shook his head, the alpha growling at him, forcing him into submission. The brit tried not to fight as the prince pushed in the rest of the way, but he screamed silently in protest. He stayed extremely still as Alfred panted over him, his odor washing over the brit once more, lubricating himself. Arthur's head lolled to the side as tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't like this feeling of forced entry, of forced compliance. Alfred stroked his cheek as he patiently waited, but since he was in rut, he wouldn't be able to hold it up forever. In fact he was already shaking.
"We don't have all day." the queen-mother groaned, sounding almost angry.
Alfred began to move, Arthur using all of his strength to pull away. Alfred grabbed him in time however, and pulled him back roughly with a growl, thrusting rapidly. Arthur's heart felt as if it has stopped beating, his eyes rolling inside his head. He opened his mouth and tried to scream, but he had nowhere near as much strength to pull that off. "p...please." He pleaded in breathless whispered, eyes streaming as he, practically blind, held onto his mate. "o-oh god... it hurts... be gentle..." Alfred slowed down, his own eyes wet and miserable. He thrusted once more, hitting the brit's prostate, making him moan. He hit it again, and again, the brit moaning louder and louder, despite himself wanting this to be over and forgotten about.
After what felt like forever, Arthur felt his lower abdomen constrict, having him release all over himself. The moment he did, Alfred pulled out, sitting back silently. "We're done." He muttered, standing up. "When you leave, send for a maid to give us some salve." He ordered, stumbling over to the bathroom. Arthur rolled over to his side, struggling to keep his composure. He looked down at the sheets, almost gagging at the sight of how much blood he had lost. The curtain of the bed was moved slightly, enough for the clergymen to see the bloodstain and nothing else.
"We'll send for the salve." The queen-mother said softly, leaving the room along with the other two men. As the door clicked closed, Arthur felt his conscious slipping. Though he knew the other was in the bathroom relieving himself, he still felt like a cumrag. He mumbled bitterly to himself when the bathroom door opened, the omega growling at his alpha. Alfred growled back. The brit flinched away, not making eye contact with the other.
"Go wash up." The king said, the brit shaking his head.
"You did this to me!" He snapped. "You did this, so now you need to live with it!" Alfred shot him an incredulous look, walking around the bed in anger.
"I didn't want to do this!" He shot back. "I d-didn't plan on this, I didn't want you to get hurt!" Arthur cursed at him, the king looking at him in shock. Alfred bit his lip, nodding his head and walking off. "Get up, I'm changing the sheets." He ordered, yanking at the fabric, the queen refusing to comply. "Arthur, get up." He order, the brit ignoring him. "I beg you-" the brit scoffed, eyes wet as he turned to face his mate. He's begging!?
"Just like I had begged you!?" he screamed. "To slow down?!" Alfred opened his mouth, but the brit cut him off. "No! Shut up! You're my husband, you're not supposed to force yourself on me! I don't care if it was consummation, you sorry sack-" He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Alfred walked over to the door, opened it, and without a word, took the salve, and closed it. He placed it on the bed before walking over to the dresser, taking out some clothes. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Where are yo-"
"I'm leaving." He said softly, pulling on a shirt. "Please take care of yourself, okay? Apply the salve every 3 hours on a clean wound, so, you need to clean yourself thoroughly with a rag. You should be fine by-" He was interrupted by a slap across the face, the omega looking up at him with wide wet eyes.
"Leaving?" he hissed. Alfred looked to the side. "In the middle of a rut?" Alfred scoffed.
"What am I gonna spend it in the bathroom?" He yelled, the brit not believing his ears.
"S-so you'd s-spend it with a whore!?" Alfred bit his lips, looking down at the omega. They stared at each other, the king shaking his head slowly.
"I was going to stay in my office." He whispered meekly, Arthur rubbing at his arms. "You obviously don't want me-
"I want you to apologize!" He sobbed, storming away. "But if you can't see what you've done, you might as well leave!" Alfred stared as the brit went to the bathroom. Arthur hopped into the tub, hissing as the cool water washed over him. He bathed quickly, wanting to see if his beloved husband actually left him. 30 minutes later, once he had washed himself thoroughly, he forced himself to stand, his backside pulsating. Each step hurt as he left the room, sighing in relief when he saw Alfred, dressed in his pajamas. The bedsheets were changed, the curtain was fixed, and there was a platter of food on the bed, the king nibbling on some cookies.
"I love you." The king started, Arthur walking over to him. They wrapped their arms around each other, kissing each other. "I'm sorry." He whispered, Arthur sighing. "I'm sorry for hurting you, like that. As your alpha, that was an incredibly awful thing of me to do, and though, I don't expect you to just forgive me like that, but with time, I would hope-"
"I forgive you" the brit said softly. "I'm too young to hold a grudge against you." Alfred shook his head.
"No, no, no. You can't do that, you can't forgive me, I'm an awful-"
"Alfred, just forget about it. Today wasn't a very day, despite the amazing morning." He picked up a cookie and took a bite. "I love you, and as long as you promise to stop when I express my discomfort, I see no problem forgiving you and moving past this. But if you do it again, I'll probably hate you forever." He warned, the king nodding.
