Mortified. Ashamed. Disgraced.

Sated.

Arthur couldn't figure out what he was. His favorite movie had somehow led to Alfred sucking him off on his couch. How?

That bloody accent.

It was the only explanation. Under normal circumstances, he never would have done something like that. Never. But, still, he couldn't bring himself to regret it in the slightest. Not when he still felt this way.

Even though they were both awake, neither blond had moved from their spots on the couch other than to use the remote to turn off the movie. Other than that, they'd only bothered to snuggle a little closer to each other, arms wrapped around waists, legs tangled, Arthur's face nuzzled into Alfred's neck. The American smelled amazing, as always.

Lying there, even on the couch instead of a bed, Arthur was far too comfortable to move. Yes, his pants and trousers had yet to be fixed, but he honestly didn't care. It wasn't like he was cold—not with Alfred holding him like this. No, he was warm and comfortable and, hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so satisfied. When he was a teenager, maybe, back when sex had been a regular hobby. But back then, it would have taken some thorough shagging to feel this way, and now he felt it and they hadn't even had sex. He wasn't sure how it was possible for a simple blow job to leave him limp-limbed and drowsy even after a nap, but he certainly wasn't going to complain.

What will sex be like…?

Oh, he was curious. So, so curious. Alfred would be a god in bed. He was a god anyway. Just his mouth was incredible. Shagging the American would be…ah, what was the word? Incredible? Fantastic? Unforgettable? No, those weren't right, but there was a word for it, Arthur was sure. He just had to remember what it was.

It didn't matter for now, though. Sex with Alfred was a little ways off yet, so no point in worry about it. For now, all he wanted to thing about was the American's warmth and scent, his arms holding Arthur as close as possible, and the strong, steady ba-bump he could feel through Alfred's chest.

This was perfect.

With a happy hum, the Brit wiggled in order to press just a little harder against his boyfriend's body, his lips curved in a smile. Unable to keep a straight face after how blatantly adorable that had been, Alfred opened his eyes far enough to glance down at the smaller male. This was going better than he'd expected, though he couldn't say he was surprised. His partners were never disappointed, after all. But he was still glad that Arthur was okay with what had happened—the last thing he wanted was to rush things and ruin them.

Shifting, the bespectacled blond lifted a hand so he could stroke Arthur's hair. As always, it was fine and soft to the touch, the perfect shade of gold to compliment those green eyes and that pale skin.

I love you.

Alfred surprised himself by thinking it, so much so that he opened his mouth to say it before he realized and stopped himself. He couldn't say that, could he? It was too soon. Way too soon. And where could it go? Into letters and phone calls and emails when he went back to America at the end of the summer? That wouldn't be enough.

I'm getting in over my head. Love? I can't fall in love. I'm an incubus. Love is a death wish.

But even the thought of keeping it to himself made him want to hold tight to Arthur and never let go. The Brit was his and he definitely didn't want to share. He'd kill anyone who tried to take the golden blond away from him.

I love him, he thought resignedly, then gave himself a mocking smile. I'm an idiot.

Well, there was no help for it. He'd fallen for Arthur in a matter of weeks. The only thing left to do was figure out how he was going to survive it. That could come later, though. First, he wanted to just enjoy the smaller man's company.

"Hey, Artie," the incubus murmured, shifting again as he continued to run his fingers through the Brit's hair.

Rousing himself, Arthur looked up and met the other's gaze, his expression sleepy-eyed and curious. "What?"

So fucking cute.

No, no, he needed to get a hold of himself.

"You still haven't told me anything about yourself," Alfred pointed out, forcing himself to ignore how badly he wanted to kiss the Englishman.

Slowly, Arthur blinked. "Oh. That."

That?

Alfred was instantly concerned by his companion's flat tone. "Something wrong?"

"No." Reluctant to move and lose how comfortable he was, Arthur nevertheless sat up and began fixing his clothes to give himself time to think. "What do you want to know?"

Even though he got the feeling that Arthur wasn't up to sharing, Al sat up as well and moved to give the other male plenty of space. "I'm curious about your family," he suggested, hoping that wasn't too sensitive of a topic to start with.

"I have three older brothers."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"What're their names?"

Arthur stood so he could straighten his shirt and make sure he'd done his belt properly. "Seamus, Allistor, and Dylan."

For a moment, Alfred considered what he should say next. There were ripples of tension coming off the Brit, and he didn't want to risk turning those into waves of anger. Still, he was curious. Why was this a touchy subject?

"…do you mind telling me about them?" he asked, his tone almost cautions, watching Arthur's back for any sign of trouble.

The golden blond didn't answer right away. What should he say? He wasn't exactly proud of his brothers, and his brothers definitely weren't proud of him. He could try to portray them in a good light, he supposed, but they probably wouldn't have done the same for him, and it wasn't like he owed them any favors.

"They're gits," he said simply, turning to face the other male with a blank expression. "I've never gotten along with them."

"Why not?" Alfred lifted his arms in a silent invitation, and Arthur quietly settled onto the larger blond's lap so that the model could hug and cuddle him.

He nuzzled into the American's shoulder before answering. "We fought a lot as kids. My parents died when I was…twelve, I think. Seamus took over after that. Naturally, I was a sodding little git and didn't want to listen to him. Allistor got along with him fine. Dylan acted mean, but he made sure I was alive more than Sea and Al did."

"I didn't realize you were an orphan," Alfred commented, his hold on the smaller blond becoming just a little more protective.

"It's not something I talk about. Back then, it was something I was always trying to forget."

Comfortingly, Al squeezed the man in his arms. "We don't have to talk about it. You can pick a new topic."

Arthur nodded a little—now wasn't the time for depressing conversations. "What about you? What's your family like?"

Well, his parents had been dead for almost two centuries, and he had an "adoptive father" in the form of an age-old French mythical, who, with the help of an alcoholic madman, had turned him into a sex demon. Oh, then there was the Faerie and the fire Nymph he lived with and occasionally fed on and would have been more inclined to claim as his family than the bastards who made him.

No better to talk about than Arthur's family.

"My parents died a while after I left my dad's farm, and I never had any siblings. Now I have Fe and Tor—we do a good job taking care of each other, think." Okay, that was all true enough. No harm in telling it to Arthur.

"You seem really close to them."

"I am. They sort of…took me in, you know?" Alfred smiled crookedly, his gaze on the floor as he let his imagination draw up memories of meeting the other two mythicals. "We just happened to meet in this little café, and it was probably about three in the morning. Feliks took one look at me and decided to recruit me to be a model." He decided to leave out the part about it being a mythicals-only café and that he'd actually found the two wrapped up in each other in a corner booth because he'd been hungry and the smell of their arousal was too good to resist. Mentioning that they'd had a threesome that night was probably out of the question, too.

"That doesn't surprise me at all," Arthur teased lightly, smiling up at the blue-eyed blond.

Alfred looked towards the ceiling and sighed dramatically. "Of course it doesn't. You took one look at me and decided I was American tourist trash."

"I couldn't believe someone as handsome as you was talking to me, actually." It was safe to admit that now that they were in a relationship.

"I couldn't believe you turned me down even after I used my infamous model charms."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur lifted one thick eyebrow higher than the other and pursed his lips to one side. "I'd never met a model before so you can't blame me for not realizing I was supposed to swoon on the spot and let you sweep me off my feet."

"As if a face like mine means you should do anything else."

Arthur snorted. "You're a cocky bastard."

With a grin, Alfred caught the smaller blond's chin in his hand and turned Arthur's head until they were face-to-face, noses almost touching, so he could look deep into Arthur's eyes. "Maybe, but you're the one who agreed to be my boyfriend, so I know you don't really mind," he cooed playfully, then stole a quick kiss from the Brit before letting him go.

Immediately, Arthur's face flushed pink and he shoved the larger male back against the couch as his expression morphed into a pout. "Watch it, you."

"I'd rather watch you." There was more than a small flirtatious edge to Alfred's tone, one that made Arthur feel hot under the collar within seconds. Still, he forced himself to keep a steady tone and somehow managed to act aloof.

"That's unfortunate. I'm not a fan of being stared at by perverts." That was a lie of course. He'd always enjoyed a bit of exhibitionism during his younger years and liked to think he would still be pretty good at it. Not that he meant to tell Alfred about that.

With a sly smirk, Al wrapped his arms around the Englishman's waist and drew Arthur close, lowering his voice into a husky whisper. "Then I guess I'll have to change your mind. Or maybe," he nuzzled the green-eyed male's cheek before putting his mouth by Arthur's ear, "you'd rather be the one to watch?"

Bloody hell. That git. This was almost as bad as having that damned accent turned on him. Alfred was being seductive and he'd already been sucked off once—if this kept up, it was going to happen again. He'd already been imagining having Alfred watch him, but the thought of watching the American, of having that entire perfect body laid out just for him to look at and admire, well, that was a pretty nice thought. Just maybe not for right now.

"I don't have to put up with this," he declared instead, removing Alfred's arms from around his middle and standing so he could move towards the kitchen. Walking made it obvious to him that he was at least a little aroused, but he meant to keep it from going any further. If he let the git on his couch get away with shagging him already, he wouldn't have the fun of making him work for it. Besides, this sort of flirting could too easily lead to them actually trying it out, and as exciting as that sounded, he wanted to be ready for it when it happened. Which meant he needed to do a little shopping first.

Even though he wasn't showing it, Alfred was a little relieved that Arthur had gotten up. Any more of that game and he'd have had the awkward task of asking the Brit to move because he was getting too hard to have the object of his arousal perched on his lap without clothes being taken off. It wouldn't have been too awkward, since he could smell that Arthur was getting turned on, too, but still. He didn't want to push things.

"So," he called, pulling one leg up to rest his ankle on his opposite knee, his arms stretched along the back of the couch, "what now?"

"Now?" Arthur's voice was slightly distorted since it was coming out of the kitchen.

"Yeah. We had a picnic for dinner, we watched a move," the American's voice lowered into a drawl, "I made ya feel good," he grinned at the slight spike in Arthur's arousal, but went back to his usual accent, "and now we've talked about our families. What should we do now?"

You should leave before I come back in there and make you talk like that while I ride you, you infuriating wannabe cowboy.

But Arthur could never actually say that. "I'm not sure."

"I guess we could just talk about something else."

"That sounds fine."

"All right." There was a pause as Alfred tried to come up with something to say. "When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?"

Arthur paused then walked out of the kitchen, a glass of lemonade in each hand. "What?"

Looking up at the Brit, Alfred smiled. "I wanted to be a superhero." To be fair, back when he'd actually been a little kid, they weren't called superheroes, but that didn't change anything. It was what he'd wanted to be. A hero.

"Well," Arthur was careful in placing the drinks on coasters before he sat beside the other blond and rested against him, "I wanted to be a wizard."

"Like in Harry Potter or like in Lord of the Rings?" the bespectacled male clarified, and Arthur chuckled.

"Both. I wanted to be able to perform spells, go to a magic school and have a wand, ride broomsticks and the like. But I also like the kind of magic that doesn't require specific spells, the 'this is what I want and magic will make it happen' kind. I always wanted to be able to use magic."

"Did you ever think about becoming a magician?"

Arthur made a face. "Oh, no. Magicians use slight-of-hand and illusions. I wanted to use real magic. Being a magician would have been a pathetic alternative." Besides, he'd had far too much pride for something like that—his friends would have laughed themselves silly.

"Well, I think you'd pull off the caped look really well."

Both blonds smiled; Alfred let his arm rest around Arthur's shoulders.

"Thanks." Arthur took a drink of his lemonade so he'd have time to come up with the next question. "If you could travel to anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

"That's a silly thing to ask."

The Brit frowned. "Why?"

Alfred grinned and nuzzled the pale man's cheek. "Cause I'm already right here."

Okay, he admitted it, that was pretty smooth, but Arthur still rolled his eyes. "Flatterer," he accused, and the model chuckled."

"True. I think I'd go to the Alps. I've already been to Paris and obviously London, and most of the US, Vancouver, Warsaw, Rome and the like. Feliks loves travelling, so we go on trips like this one all the time. But he always picks cities and big tourist locations. If I got to choose, I'd want to go stay in the country for a while, somewhere with hills and mountains, maybe a lake. Big and wide open and green. You know?"

That sounded absolutely perfect. "Yeah," Arthur breathed dreamily, his imagination taking him to a cute little cabin at the base of a mountain where they could be away from the world for a little while, just him and Alfred. "That would be incredible."

Alfred had to smile at how cute that was. "What about you? Where would you go?"

The question drew him out of his daydream. "Oh, well, I was going to say New Zealand, but I like your idea, too."

A wide grin took over the American's features. "New Zealand would be great! I didn't even think about that. New Zealand. That's where I'll go." Alfred paused then smiled at his companion. "Want to go?"

"…really?" Arthur wasn't sure if that was a serious question or not.

"Yeah, why not? You've got a passport, right?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"I'd love to go to New Zealand with you, Artie." The taller blond was sincere, his eyes bright with excitement and an eagerness that reminded Arthur of a puppy.

What should he say? He wanted to go, there was no doubt about that, but getting the time off from work, and paying for it, and he really hadn't known Alfred long enough to go on a trip like that with him. He wanted to, but he felt like he shouldn't.

"I don't know, Al," he hedged, voice low. "That's a big trip."

"Not for Feliks."

Oh, so Feliks and Toris would go along, too.

"We could rent two cabins, and they'd have one and we'd get the other, and we could go hiking, and see where they filmed the Rings movies." Alfred was in full vacation-planning mode now, his imagination running wild with possibilities. "It would be great, Artie."

Now it was starting to sound more like his original daydream, and that sounded pretty bloody perfect.

"I'll think about it, okay?" he surrendered with a smile, and Alfred grinned widely before hugging him.

"Great!" In his excitement, the American didn't pause to think before drawing back far enough to kiss the man in his arms. It was a short kiss, but a nice one, and the two smiled at each other when he pulled away again, him beaming and Arthur just short of flustered.

To hide the flush that was coming into his cheeks, the Briton busied himself with his lemonade and focused on calming his heartbeat. Alfred's excitement was infectious, or maybe it was just the kiss, but either way he was feeling a bit giddy and short of breath. So far, dating an American model was even more interesting than he'd expected, and he didn't mind in the slightest.