Lost Without You

Behind the door was his shield- yes, his protection from, from what? What was he trying so hard to hide from? Exhaling the breath he didn't even know he was holding, he sunk so slowly to the floor. He hadn't noticed what had passed him, that cold figure that slipped passed him. It stared at him, watching how he made no movement.

Shaken by his own self, he found what will he had to move himself. Leaning mostly on the door for support, he ever so slowly sauntered towards the bed; a dull shadow had overtaken his sky blue eyes. The resort was just to fall atop his bed, bitterly to close his eyes and fall deeper into darkness. The ever silent whispering called him, drew him from what he yearned which was a rest. His eyes strayed from the comfort to look over to something- someone who he needed. Who was ever patient with him; who was there.

"Matthew."

He sounded different, the hoarse cry that ripped from his throat as the other came closer, so close. The touch on his cheek felt so ice cold, he couldn't acknowledge the fact that he had flinched away from it. In fear, or something else; he could not tell the purpose of his own actions, yet he let them be.

A gasp escaped his lips as arms wrapped around his body, picking him up and laying him on his back. His eyes descended upon the moving figure that dipped the bed as it joined him.

The other is slow as he removes his pants and pulls off his shirt. Cold feathered touches ran up his legs. When had he been stripped so far down? Why hadn't he noticed? The answers never come and he leans into the touch, nails scraping down his inner thighs and he gives a pathetic whimper.

What was he a dog? Slave? Probably both; a needy slut that only wanted to be wanted and cherished. The attention was what he drowned in, fingers pulling off the remaining article.

Grasping at his attention did he see the other licking and biting down on his exposed skin, but only craned his neck to let the other devour at his neck. Licking his lips, he drew the other closer before flipping them over.

He straddled the other, the feeling of their skins just touching made him flutter a bit. Blue eyes found the depths of purple ones as he tugged off the other's shirt. He began at the button of his pants, buttoning it and pulling off the offending pants. He nearly ripped off the boxers and ground himself against the other.

An escalated cry escaped his throat and his face scrunched in pleasure, yet it was only the beginning. No prepping or gentle caress, there was only the need. He never strayed from the other's orbs, feeling so taken; caged in them.

His vision blurred as he gave a hoarse cry in pain, yet the pleasure was so mixed in it. Raising his hips after a moment to settle did he begin to ride the other.

Soft grunts caved into moans and groans of pleasure, yet the pain was still there. Clawing attacked his legs and hips he felt the other under him begin to thrust harder. Alfred caved into and shuddered rather violently, feeling the other fill him up till it dripped from himself.

Though, that wasn't the end to this long night.

"We have to do something," were the first words that escaped the Brit's lips as he entered the Frenchman's door. The sluggish movements and moments of spacing out showed the other that he hadn't had much sleep in a while. A long while it seemed when the shaggy blonde slumped in his seat, something so unnatural of him, it baffled Francis.

But that wasn't the problem at the moment; he'd deal with the insomniac Arthur after they dealt with Alfred. The young lad had been so loved, so looked over, so wanted that it still shocked him to be even considered a patient out of hospital latent terms.

Seating himself across from the other, Francis picked up from the table a folder. Flipping it open, he once more ignored the picture and first pages to get to the notes that seemed more filled than before. He furrowed his brows before raising his head. "Arthur."

Said man raised his own head, looking at the other. He knew that look, all too well of a determined Francis. Arthur sat up a bit, up enough to present himself in somewhat of a tired fashion. A shaky sigh escaped his pale lips.

"Alfred seems to have lost weight, thinner than usual. He spaces out more and is beyond normally timid." He said, gathering what he saw from the few visits he had with the American. Arthur closed his eyes. "He's walling out others that seem a threat with his time with … that thing-"

"Matthew you mean." Francis interrupted. He gave a weak glare and nodded. "That- Matthew is growing stronger. It seems to feed off of Alfred- off of something he has!" he gave out in defense. Arthur didn't want to believe that Alfred wanted Matthew there, that Matthew was just breaking him lower into darkness; into something else.

Francis had stayed quiet for a moment, only the scribbling on the pen was filling the void of silence. With a click, he closed the folder and sighed. "There's nothing you think it is?" He prodded, crossing his legs and leaning against his plush couch.

"Besides a bloody demon t-that's tearing Alfred apart?" With each word he grew louder in volume, not noticing how his vision blurred. He blinked away the coming tears, not wanting to seem so defenseless in front of the Frenchman. He shook in his place and slumped once more, caving in and covering his hands over his face.

The sobs broke from his walls and he gave a cry out. Francis joined the other on the couch, patting him on the back and giving soft hushes of comfort, though he let the other continue to cry. After so many years he realized how fragile the other was, especially when it came to Alfred's predicament.

He'd practically raised the boy at the age of 7, meeting the young baby at 2; he knew he wanted to protect him. Arthur wanted to make Alfred into a fine gentleman, a good lad that wouldn't have any problems.

Well, no one had expected Alfred to make a new friend named Matthew.

A/N:

Woot

Finally got the Third chapter [:

Next one will be a flashback ;

Reviews/Comments/Love/Requests/Ideas are always welcomed :D