Chapter 31
Alfred sighed as he re-read the e-mail a third time. It was one of the first times in his memory he ever recalled his mother apologizing to him, even though it was curt and rather annoyed sounding (if an e-mail could even have a tone). Still, it let Alfred know she was upset by the strain between them and had been stewing over it. Biting his lip, Alfred typed a short reply accepting her apology. He also insisted that he wouldn't end his friendship with Ivan and wouldn't change his mind any time soon. He hinted that he had big news, though, and he confirmed her suspicions that he was gay.
At least, this way, when his father showed up in a week he wouldn't have to come out. He'd already know.
"Does this tie look alright?" Arthur asked, emerging from the bathroom in a rather nice outfit. Alfred was dressed equally well, in trousers and a suit jacket.
"I like it. Didn't your mom give it to you for Christmas?" Alfred asked. His boyfriend nodded absently and returned to the mirror, scowling critically at his ensemble. Smiling affectionately, Alfred closed his laptop and stood, stretching his ever-growing limbs.
"You look good, Artie," Alfred said with a smile. Arthur glanced at him, nodded, and appeared to be trying to psych himself up for the evening that was coming. Alfred crossed the room and leaned over to peck Arthur on the cheek.
"Technically, shouldn't I be the nervous one? Your parents already like you—it's me they're not so sure about," Alfred joked. Arthur, however, rolled his eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous. My father thinks very highly of you. I can't say that he won't be giving you a call once that calendar is released next month, but for now, you're on his good list."
"And your mom?" Alfred prompted.
"She likes you, of course, but it might be a little different now that we're dating. She met you when we were just friends. I don't know how she'll feel towards the first boyfriend I bring home," Arthur said, a thoughtful expression on his face. Alfred pulled him into a gentle hug.
"Well, I won't make a very good impression by getting you to the restaurant late. We need to get a cab pretty soon. You sure you're ready for this?" Alfred confirmed. Arthur met Alfred's blue-eyed gaze confidently and nodded, a small smile touching his lips.
"I couldn't be more proud of you. I want them to know who's responsible for making me so happy," Arthur said, in a rare moment of sweetness. Alfred melted a little inside and hugged the other boy tighter, kissing him lovingly.
"You're just a big sap, aren't you?" Alfred teased, after they parted. Arthur scowled, and flicked Alfred on the ear.
"Don't be a prat," he scolded. Grinning, Alfred intertwined their hands and led Arthur out of his room. They had invited Arthur's parents to join them for dinner at a nice restaurant in London, and they were planning on telling them about their new status as a couple.
As the cab carried them speedily towards their destination, Arthur grew more and more nervous. It was a strange role reversal—Alfred, who should have been the one freaking out, merely held Arthur's hand and smiled at him with an almost shy sort of confidence.
"Relax, Arthur. Your parents will see how serious I am about you. I'm not going to mess this up—not something so important," Alfred promised. The shorter boy smiled thinly and scooted closer to Alfred, soaking up his confidence and warmth. Alfred was right. His nerves were quite silly.
The restaurant came into view and Arthur let out a shaky breath. He couldn't help the nerves zipping around just beneath his skin, making him feel like a live wire sparking and twitching. Alfred slid out of the cab after paying the driver and extended his hand to him, still wearing that new, confident smile.
For a strange moment, the situation seemed to fade away, and it was just Alfred smiling at him, holding out his hand, waiting for him to take it. He was absolutely crazy about the boy. He loved him so much he would have never even thought such an emotion existed.
He placed his hand in Alfred's and exited the cab, feeling some of the nervous butterflies fade away. Everything was going to be fine.
His parents were already seated in a VIP section of the restaurant. It was quiet and rather secluded, and the restaurant staff were bending over backwards to offer the best possible service. Arthur's parents smiled at them happily, and Arthur's mother got up to give them both a hug.
"It's so good to see you again, Alfred. You left so suddenly over the holiday that I was worried my cooking had scared you off," she joked. Arthur winced, all-too-aware it had been his own rudeness that had been the cause for Alfred's sudden departure, but of course his parents didn't know that.
"Oh, no, ma'm! Not at all. If I can survive Arthur's cooking, I think I can handle anything. I am sorry I had to leave so suddenly, though. Did you find my note?"
"Yes, yes, such a sweet boy! Not many teenagers running around these days with such good manners."
"Note?" Arthur asked confusedly. As they all got seated, his mother gave Alfred a fond smile.
"Alfred left your father and myself a very sweet thank-you note, and even had some flowers sent. You really didn't have to, dear, but they were quite lovely."
"I'm glad you liked them," Alfred said. Arthur, meanwhile, was staring a bit stupidly at the other boy. In the middle of their fight, Alfred had still had the presence of mind to leave a thank-you note for his mother and father, and even after he'd kicked him out, essentially into the snow, Alfred had sent flowers?
Alfred noticed his gaping and winked at him.
"What? Just 'cause I don't always use my manners doesn't mean I don't have them," Alfred defended. Arthur marveled a bit, but managed to close his mouth. He realized he was blushing, while everyone at the table was casting amused glances his way. He snatched up the menu and studied it rather intently, leaving Alfred on his own. He'd expected the other boy to falter, but Alfred cleared his throat and spoke rather confidently.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland, we invited you to dinner tonight because I wanted to talk with you both about something very important. I've asked your son to be my boyfriend. I know we're kinda young, but I wanted you to know that I'm really serious about him, and he's my best friend, so I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him. I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you both, and to ask if there were any special rules you have about Arthur dating that I should know about," Alfred said, not even stumbling over his words. They didn't sound rehearsed. Alfred was speaking from the heart, and being perfectly sincere.
Arthur (who had just taken a sip of water at the beginning of Alfred's little speech) coughed in surprise. Still half-hidden behind his menu, he flushed with embarrassment and turned wide green eyes towards Alfred.
He'd been planning on telling his parents about them—he'd never suspected Alfred would initiate the topic (and in such a way!) before their appetizers had even arrived. Alfred just raised an eyebrow at him in concern and lightly patted him on the back.
"You okay, hun?" Alfred asked. At the addition of the casual endearment (he though Alfred was finally over saying such ridiculous things!) Arthur completely lost his composure. He jerked rather strangely (perhaps a side-effect of the complete mortification) and accidentally knocked over his water glass. It spilled onto the table, dripped a little on his trousers, and the majority of it soaked into the carpet.
"I have to go to the restroom!" Arthur blurted, stumbling out of his chair and startling the waiter that had been coming to take their order.
"Your highness! Is there anything—"
But Arthur was already gone, leaving the waiter to fuss over the overturned glass and insist upon moving them all to the nearby, vacant table.
"Well, Arthur is certainly nervous tonight, isn't he? I don't think I've ever seen him so out of sorts," Prince George commented. It was the first thing the stoic man had said all night. Mary shook her head in exasperation but smiled fondly.
"I know we probably say it too much, but Arthur really is such a sensitive boy. He held onto his dummy till he was nearly six, you know," she said. Alfred's brow hitched upwards in confusion.
"His…dummy?" he asked.
"Oh, you'd call it a pacifier, I believe," she said. Alfred bit back a smile. Oh, that was funny.
"I promise he's usually the tough one between the two of us. If it hadn't been for him, I'd have been all over the place this year," Alfred said. Mary smiled proudly.
"Arthur is a good boy. I know it must have been hard on him this year, and if that awful scandal is to be the worst of it, I suppose I should be grateful. It's a lot less than what most parents have to deal with," she said. George nodded, seemingly in agreement, and leveled a rather serious look at Alfred.
"We've already spoken, so you know how I feel about the subject. I trust you'll keep an eye out for Arthur, and treat him well. Next year will be Arthur's first time to live so far away from us, and I expect you to take good care of him when he's in the states," Prince George said. Mary nodded.
"You seem to be a very sweet and thoughtful boy, and my only rule is that you both stay out of trouble. Behave responsibly and take things slow. You're both young and there's no rush," she said. Alfred nodded respectfully.
"I'll treat Arthur with respect. I know he loves you both very much, and your good opinion is really important to him, so I won't let you down," Alfred assured earnestly. Mary gave him a fond smile and George nodded, almost dismissively—as if he'd already decided Alfred was a trustworthy boy and was no longer concerned about the issue.
The waiter had taken their initial order and the conversation had shifted to food by the time Arthur returned. He looked less red-faced, but still nervous. He was biting at his bottom lip rather harshly. Alfred flashed him a concerned smile when he sat.
"Better?" Alfred asked. Arthur nodded.
"The waiter came and you were gone, so I just ordered your usual tea—lemon on the side," Alfred informed. Arthur's lips quirked into a smile.
"Thanks. So…everything's okay, I suppose?" Arthur asked, his green eyes meeting those of his parents rather hesitantly. Alfred took a sip of his coke and watched them.
"Of course, dear. I admit, you both seem very serious about this and it's a bit sooner than I expected we'd be having such a conversation, but Alfred's a sweet boy. He'll take good care of you," Mary said. George nodded.
"Alfred is a fine young man. I know he'll keep you out of trouble," George said. Arthur frowned slightly.
"Why do you keep saying he'll take care of me? I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, for starters, and—"
"Oh, Arthur, hush. We don't mean it like that at all. We only mean that you spend so much time alone if someone doesn't drag you away from your books. You take everything so seriously that we do worry about you. If you don't have a little fun when you're young, when will you?" his mother said.
"Speaking of fun, I've convinced Arthur to join the rugby team—just for the final game of the season. He's really a fantastic kicker," Alfred said. Mary blinked in surprise and George huffed in dry amusement.
"Colin and Patrick are our athletes. Arthur's fairly good with a foil, but I don't know about rugby." Mary was working herself into a fret over it and Arthur was glaring at Alfred.
"Arthur, poppet, I really don't know about that. Rugby is such a tough sport, and you're not as big as your year mates by far. Patrick was a good two heads taller than you at your age, and twice as thick around."
"I'll be fine, mum," Arthur replied snippily.
"He'll stay out of the scrum—we won't let him get hurt or tackled," Alfred said. Arthur, however, was working himself up into a right temper.
"Even if I were to be tackled, I could handle it, you know. I'm not a pre-pubescent girl," he said rather moodily. Mary shot him a rather patronizing look of agreement that seemed to only ruffle Arthur's feathers more.
"I know dear, but all the same, do watch out for him, Alfred. You bigger lads can be a bit rough without even realizing—"
"Mum!" Arthur interrupted with a scowl.
"Don't interrupt your mother, Arthur," George scolded, before taking another sip of his wine. Arthur turned his head sharply, glaring at nothing in particular. Alfred just smiled.
"Arthur's tougher than he looks, but I don't want him to get hurt, either," Alfred said. Arthur glanced at him in surprise, and his glare softened ever-so-slightly. When Alfred put it like that…
"If you two wanted to come see the game, I suppose I don't mind you coming," Arthur muttered. His mother smiled and his father smirked.
"Alright, poppet, we'll do our best to make it to the game to cheer for the two of you. I imagine it's very important to you, Alfred."
"Yes ma'm. I've been training for this game all season. The team wants to win one so bad we can almost taste it," he said, that familiar fire lighting in his blue eyes. Without really thinking about it, Arthur reached for the other boy's hand and their fingers knitted together perfectly, as if they'd been doing it for years.
The food came, and the rest of the evening was a rather surprising success.
USUK
As they changed into their pajamas, Arthur found himself simply watching Alfred undress, listening to him talk.
"I think it went pretty well. I mean, at least your parents don't seem to hate me," Alfred commented.
"You took the time to send my mother flowers," Arthur said, a small smile tilting up the corners of his lips. Alfred glanced at him a little sheepishly.
"Yeah…well, I wanted her to like me. It really wasn't a big deal. I just called a flower shop and explained the situation. I didn't have to pick anything out, thank goodness. She might really hate me if I'd sent her the funeral flowers."
Arthur's smile turned contemplative.
"My parents…they really trust you. It kind of surprises me, actually," Arthur said. "You were so confident tonight. It was…different," Arthur said.
"Different bad, or different good?" Alfred said, as he tugged off his shoes.
"Different good," Arthur replied. Alfred smirked, and crossed the room rather suddenly in his socked feet. He loosened Arthur's tie and tugged it over his head, followed by the shorter boy's sweater vest. He undid the buttons on Arthur's dress shirt, all without breaking eye contact with Arthur.
"You make me different—better, somehow," Alfred said. Arthur blushed.
"I haven't done anything special. The only difference is that we kiss now…and do other things," Arthur said. Now his chest was bared to the other boy, and Alfred's expression was hard to read. He ran his hands over Arthur's shoulders, slowly pushing the shirt off.
"No…it's more than that. I can't really explain it," Alfred said. He leaned down and kissed Arthur's lips demandingly, his large hands sliding down Arthur's sides and resting possessively on his hips.
Arthur broke the kiss, rather dazed, a little surprised by Alfred's demeanor. Perhaps he was imagining it, but Alfred's touch even seemed different—less hesitant and bumbling, surer and heavier instead…and it was turning him on.
"Arthur…I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I want…" Alfred's voice trailed off and his fingers moved to the buckle of Arthur's belt. He undid it and pulled the leather free, tossing it carelessly behind him. The button was next, followed by the zipper. The trousers pooled in a wrinkled pile at Arthur's feet.
"What do you want?" Arthur asked, turning green eyes up to stare into pools of blue. Alfred bit his lip, and his hands slid firmly over Arthur's backside.
"I don't want to be a virgin anymore. I want to…m-make love with you, Arthur." The taller boy was blushing now, the suggestive words causing his cheeks to burn scarlet.
"Oh," Arthur said softly. He'd had fantasies about it—he'd fantasized just about every position he could imagine with Alfred—but fantasizing about it versus actually doing it were two very different things.
"I have everything we'd need. I've been doing some research…" Alfred said suggestively. Arthur snorted in amusement.
"I bet you have," he said. "You won't crack an English text to save your life, but—"
"Arthur, you're trying to change the subject," Alfred said, advancing forward a few steps and forcing Arthur backwards. He felt the doorframe of the bathroom hit his back, and he realized just how little clothing he was wearing compared to Alfred.
"I'm not sure about this, Alfred," Arthur finally managed to reply. It was hard to say, though, because Alfred was carelessly stroking the backs of his thighs and lightly ghosting his fingers over the curve of his arse. That deep, husky tone Alfred used whenever things turned intimate was wreaking havoc on his brain. Arthur realized he was clutching fistfuls of Alfred's dress shirt. He swallowed thickly and tugged upwards, pulling the shirt free of Alfred's trousers.
"I won't hurt you, Arthur. I promise," Alfred said. It wasn't much of an argument, especially since Arthur knew it was likely going to hurt no matter what Alfred said, but damned if it wasn't convincing. They'd been together three weeks, and they'd spent a good deal of that time with their clothes off.
"You've got a condom?" Arthur confirmed. Alfred nodded. His hands were pushing down Arthur's briefs, teasing the erection that matched Alfred's own. "And lube?" Arthur asked. With a bit of amusement glinting in his blue eyes—mischievous, boyish eyes that knew they were about to get exactly what they wanted—Alfred nodded again.
"There's more than one way to lose your virginity, you know. I've topped someone before—"
"Arthur," Alfred interrupted smoothly, his voice hinting at something dark and a little wild, "I don't want you thinking about what you've done with someone. I want you to think about me. I want you to think about what I'm about to do to you, and nothing else."
"Rather confident, aren't you? I haven't agr—ah!" Arthur's reproach was cut-off when the taller boy's gentle, playful little touches to the backs of his thighs turned into a strong grip that lifted him, without warning, off the ground. Surprised, Arthur's arms twined around Alfred's shoulders to find balance, but his grip broke when Alfred tossed him onto his old bed, where Arthur bounced a bit before settling on the mattress in a sprawl of limbs. He tried to sit up, but Alfred was too quick for him—the other boy kneeled between his legs and braced his weight on a hand placed next to Arthur's chest.
Alfred's other hand slipped between Arthur's spread legs, rubbing teasingly over his tight, little hole. Alfred had never touched him this boldly before, and he'd never looked at him so intensely. Arthur was a little nervous under such a gaze, but for the most part, it just made him hard.
"I might be…willing to…consider the idea," Arthur said. Alfred smirked in the low light. His hand left its' task between Arthur's legs and he undid his trousers, kicking them off along with his boxers quickly. He undid his dress shirt buttons, and the shirt met with the floor in a rumpled heap. Alfred opened his beside drawer, and Arthur's eyes turned to follow the sound. The promised preparations were inside (when had Alfred stashed them there?) and Alfred was fumbling with the wrapper on the condom. It was the first hint of his usual awkwardness he'd shown all night, and Arthur was strangely comforted by it.
"Let me," he said, taking the little package and ripping it open with his teeth. He pulled out the condom and passed it to Alfred, who didn't move to take it.
"Err…" he said, blushing hotly. Rather than let Alfred do it incorrectly, and before the other boy was forced to admit his inexperience, Arthur pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it smoothly into place. His hands were shaking slightly, but he wasn't sure why. He didn't feel nervous—just a little breathless. Alfred's gaze was heavy and relentless, staring straight through him, to the very core of his being.
His task complete, Arthur reached for the lube and squirted a fair amount in Alfred's hands. He distracted himself by stealing a kiss, rising up onto his knees and pressing his torso against his boyfriend's.
"The site said it's more comfortable to lie on a pillow," Alfred said. His kiss had lacked his usual level of enthusiasm. Alfred was distracted, and very, very nervous. His blush hadn't faded, and Arthur could feel the heat radiating from the other boy's skin. Despite his awkward nervousness, Alfred was looking at him in an entirely new way.
He'd thought just a few weeks before that there was nothing else—that he had given away anything worth taking in meaningless moments that he instantly regretted—but Alfred made him feel precious. The other boy's hands, usually so eager and jumpy, now smoothed over the lines of his body as if he were ethereal. Alfred's blue eyes shined with lust, but it was more than that—Alfred loved him, too, and his eyes showed his sincerity. His reservations began to fade under the bigger boy's blue eyed gaze, so full of adoration and longing. He could trust Alfred in a way he had never trusted anyone else before. What they would share together would mean something, and he wanted to be able to look Alfred in the eyes and engrave his expressions into his memory.
"Forget what you read. I want to be able to see you," Arthur finally replied, reclining onto his back against the pillows. Fighting back his own blush, he let his knees fall apart. Alfred pressed a kiss to the inside of his thigh, warming the substance in his hands briskly before pressing his touch once more to Arthur's entrance. He used his smallest finger, but Arthur still winced as it slid in—a rather strange feeling. Still, the mild discomfort was not enough to discourage his erection. Arthur gave his member a few firm strokes and watched the look of complete concentration on Alfred's face.
"Okay…here goes," he warned. Alfred leaned over him to press an apologetic little kiss against the corner of his lips. Arthur tilted his face and claimed a deeper one, encouraging Alfred's tongue to move against his own. Still stroking himself, he tried not to think about the heavy sensation in his arse.
Still too distracted by his task, Alfred pulled away from the kiss and glanced between their bodies, where he cursed to see his own fingers slipping in and out of Arthur smoothly. Imagining the tight warmth on his dick was nearly enough to undo him. He tried thinking calming thoughts, but Arthur's tongue was not helping him stay in check.
"Just one more…then you should be ready," Alfred said, his voice cracking. Arthur craned his neck to see Alfred's movements more clearly, and the sight proved to be arousing even if the sensation (so far) was not. He bit his lip, glanced up at Alfred from beneath his lashes, and experimentally pushed against Alfred's fingers.
"More," he moaned, just to turn Alfred on. Alfred gritted his teeth at the simple word and adjusted his position before adding a third finger. His longest digit pressed in impossibly deep, and Arthur's cock jumped in his hand as an entirely new sensation jolted him. "Ungh! Alfred!" he grunted, wanting to feel whatever that had been again, but the fingers were sliding out of him, leaving him feeling hollow and horribly empty. His restraint completely gone, Arthur spread his legs wider in what he hoped was an irresistible sight, his head tossing on the pillow as his hand moved faster and faster against his cock.
Then Alfred was pulling his hands away, pressing them up above his head, and his long, muscular torso was slanting over Arthur's. Alfred's length slid into him with aching slowness—ten times thicker than the fingers had been (or at least that was how it felt). A pained moan escaped Arthur's lips and he closed his eyes tightly, pressing his forehead against Alfred's shoulder.
That was when he heard the whispered chanting.
"Clowns…car wrecks…shark attacks…dung beetles…urrrgh…fuck!"
"What…what the b-bloody hell are you talking about?" Arthur gasped, trying with every fiber of his being not to tense up around the arousal sinking into him with agonizing slowness.
"I'm just trying not to cum!" Alfred half-shouted, his grip on Arthur's forearms tightening almost painfully before he finally (finally!) stopped moving. Alfred was panting, panting like a winded racehorse in Arthur's ear, and the smaller boy marveled that he was the one causing such a response. Alfred was fighting his pleasure with everything he had, trying desperately not to lose himself in the moment.
It was an admirable show of restraint, and it was the last thing Arthur wanted to see. For Alfred's first time, he wanted him to see stars. Arthur bit his lip harshly, squinted his eyes shut, and thrust his hips upward to close the last of the distance between them. Arthur was rewarded for his initiative. Alfred's unyielding erection hit that spot again, and Arthur felt the spark of pleasure race right to the tip of his cock.
His gasp of pleasure mixed with pain was all the invitation Alfred needed. With a deep, husky groan, Alfred began to piston his hips in a rather awkward, unpredictable rhythm. Arthur's breathing deepened as did the discomfort. He felt hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but Arthur squeezed them away and tried to shift to lessen the uncomfortable feeling.
Alfred's face was the picture of ecstasy. Arthur drank it in as he angled his hips upwards and hooked his feet around Alfred's hips. Then the pain turned into a spectacular pleasure. Each little thrust hit the magic spot that caused the fireworks in Arthur's mind. Their moans mingled together and their huffing breaths filled the room, as their bodies rocked harder against each other, deeper and faster and relentless.
Arthur squeezed his legs tightly around bony hips; Alfred's thrusts slowed and became longer. Their eyes met and their faces drew closer together, a magnetic pull, until their sweaty foreheads were pressed together and their noses bumped. One long, forceful thrust, nearly from tip to balls, and Alfred came hard, his toes digging into the sheets for leverage.
Arthur felt all the pressure build at the base of his cock. The friction between his penis and Alfred's belly combined with that strange, sparking pleasure to cause Arthur's release. Having already orgasmed seconds before, Alfred slipped out limply and rolled to Arthur's side, releasing Arthur's trapped arms.
"I love you. You're amazing, Arthur," he said breathlessly. Arthur turned his head and kissed Alfred's soft mouth, darting his tongue out to taste Alfred's teeth and braces, his tongue and his lips.
"I love you, too," he panted, feeling as if he no longer had skin for a boundary, and all his emotions and sensations were floating away from him and bleeding into Alfred's heat and the cool, evening air.
"Was it…was it okay?" Alfred asked, his worry evident. Arthur smiled reassuringly, tangling his fingertips in the other boy's sweaty hair.
"You were wonderful, love," he praised, adding a kiss to Alfred's forehead.
"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Alfred asked, rolling up onto his elbow and staring concernedly at his slender boyfriend.
"Ah…a bit, but I'm fine," Arthur said. He tested out this statement by shifting slightly, and his eyes shot open in wide surprise at the jab of pain that zipped up his lower back. The hissing noise he made was all the proof Alfred needed. Energetic once more, Alfred fumbled to get the soiled condom off and wrapped it in a tissue before throwing it away.
"Stay right there. I'll get something to clean you up, okay?" Alfred fretted. Arthur rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. Alfred had told him to stay in place—as if he were just seconds away from springing up and dancing a jig.
Hell, he'd be surprised if he could sit up, let alone go anywhere.
Alfred returned a few moments later with a warm washcloth. Arthur wiped his sticky skin and then collapsed once more in a tired puddle of muscle and bone. Alfred curled up beside him, nibbling at his bottom lip, obviously both excited and vulnerable. Arthur carded his fingers through Alfred's mused hair and kissed his temple.
"I mean it…you were good. That was…incredible, actually," Arthur reassured. Alfred seemed a little pacified and ceased abusing his lip. His eyelids began to droop a bit tiredly, though he'd been all nervous energy just moments before.
"So…we can do it again?" he asked hopefully, throwing in puppy dog eyes just to cement the deal. Arthur sighed with exaggerated reluctance.
"Ask me again in the morning," he replied. Unwilling to try shifting positions or rolling over (not when he was so comfortable just where he was) Arthur began to drift asleep as Alfred fetched a blanket off the other bed and covered them both up. The taller boy curled up against Arthur's chest, smiling a bit dazedly, and fell into a deep, exhausted, dreamless sleep.
A/N: Long time between updates, I know. Some other stuff has taken priority, though I did want to get this up for Valentine's yesterday. That's why the whole chapter is mostly just sex. Lol, there are other characters in this story, and there is still a plot, but it tends to be the case in most new relationships that the happy couple doesn't get very far from bed and doesn't do much socializing, so they're kinda in their own little world right now. They'll be less smut and more plot next chapter. Happy belated Valentine's Day!