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Post by arthurkirkland on Sept 10, 2011 8:36:41 GMT -5
Arthur snorted and waved the remark off. “If I am super drunk, then you must be completely wankered.” What a lightweight, which was rich, coming from him in this given situation. He found himself in a similar situation, one drink after another. Ironically, he only felt thirstier.
He looked around now. Was it him or is the room spinning? His drunken state of mind told him that, yes, the room is spinning. Arthur’s mouth was constantly moving but even he was not sure what he was going about. Was he talking about his life? His family? Mythical creatures? How lonely he felt?
His sentence was cut off though when Alfred leant in to place his lips on his. Arthur could feel his cheeks heating up, and it wasn’t even because of the alcohol. As the other began to move his lips in a way that made the Englishman weak in the knees, he was at a loss of what to do but his instincts told him to respond to the kiss, which he did, moving his lips in sync with the American’s. The only experiences he had with kisses were ones he witnessed on television shows and from fairy tales in books. Arthur tend to differentiate them and this, he decided, this is the fairy tale type. It felt good and he didn’t want to stop but break it did and Arthur whined a little in protest.
“W-Why…?” He found himself asking as he reached out to pull at Alfred’s hand. He wanted to hear the answer somewhere else…
… Somewhere much more private.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Sept 10, 2011 19:34:52 GMT -5
His blurred mind was pleased with this. So pleased in fact that he wrapped his hand around Arthur's and dragged him away from the bar and into one of the unoccupied dark corners. They seemed to be one of the first couples drunk enough to venture away from the festivities. Not that Alfred noticed, he was too busy feeling Arthur's hand in his, and then later feeling his body pressed up against his when Alfred backed them both into the corner. He drunkenly leaned over and against Arthur and kissed him again. He wasn't really sure what was compelling him to be so forward, but given Arthur's reaction to the previous kiss, he had a feeling the other man didn't mind much.
When he broke the kiss, he stared at Arthur for a moment while he cleared his muddled thoughts. "You....I uh....I really like you. You're cool. Weird but cool." He smiled goofily and couldn't think of anything much better to say, so he held tight to Arthur's hand. Hopefully that would be enough to keep him here.
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Post by arthurkirkland on Sept 10, 2011 21:22:33 GMT -5
Arthur was less than satisfied with the answer. He didn't want it to be so minor, for it to simply qualify as a mere liking. He wanted there to be love. And up till this point, he had never felt this desperate, this lonely. It was as if he was addicted to the warmth he had been deprived of throughout his life the moment it was given to him.
Right now, all he wanted to do was to tear away, tear away before he regrets, before it gets too late.
... But Alfred's warm hands around his compelled him to stay.
He smiled sadly before closing his eyes and pressed his lips on the American's once more.
Just one night. And hopefully, this memory will vanish along with it in the morning.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Sept 12, 2011 5:20:57 GMT -5
As far as Alfred knew, they never stopped kissing or touching. He didn't remember ever losing contact as they slowly worked their way out of the museum. He didn't remember any looks they got. He didn't care either. His whole world swirled and whirled around one person, the rest of the world be damned. Those lips, those brows, those vibrant green eyes, nothing more mattered to him. He held Arthur against every wall they passed and tugged his hair and pressed his lips to the other man's. He drank up every noise Arthur let out and returned with his own.
At some point, he laced their hands together. On some level it might have seemed romantic. Alfred just didn't want Arthur to leave him yet.
Eventually the touches became more than just touches, and they moaned their way into the back of a cab. Alfred didn't even notice the looks the cab driver gave them. Nothing mattered but Arthur.
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Post by arthurkirkland on Sept 12, 2011 12:49:15 GMT -5
Arthur returned every kiss and every touch passionately, trying to make up his inexperience with fervour. Being a gentleman who highly valued his pride, he would have stopped but no, he was too far gone and one look into those twin pools of blue told him that he needed this, way too much.
When their fingers were intertwined, Arthur’s heart sped up. He most certainly has never felt this way before and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. It was only then did Arthur felt fear, fear that the night would indeed vanish as morning comes. No, this isn’t right. He knew he will regret the next day. He has to—
Oh, that felt insanely good.
Whatever thoughts of escaping were soon lost in sounds of pleasure, both Alfred’s and his. The once gentle and teasing touches became rough and intense as they hurried to discover each other bodies. Arthur’s hands roamed all over the other, trying to find out which areas would make him moan the loudest as he was being touched in places where he had never dreamt of being touched by anyone, much less a stranger.
Ignoring their driver’s dirty looks, Arthur pushed and pinned Alfred down to the seat. He then gave him a lopsided grin, muttering his next words without giving it much thought:
“I love you.”
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Sept 16, 2011 7:27:51 GMT -5
Nothing made sense. Nothing really had to make sense beyond the alcohol running through his system and the Brit above-below-with him. Oh how Alfred wanted this man. From the noises Arthur was making, he wanted Alfred too.
Suddenly Arthur was on top of him. Woah. Talk about a change of pace. Up until now, Alfred had been taking the lead, been being the assertive one, but now Arthur was changing up the game and making things interesting. As much as Alfred loved having someone to fawn over, having someone to match him step for step was even better. He had a feeling that if anyone would be his match here, that would be Arthur. Cold Arthur who rebuffed him from the start but fell victim to the bliss of booze, just as Alfred had. Alfred briefly considered the possibility of this being rape but then--
"I love you."
Alfred paused. Arthur loved him? But they'd only just met. This was a drunken hook up. Alfred was very fond of the man already but, love?
Let it be love then. Alfred had a big enough heart to go around. He'd happily take Arthur's affection and return it equally, if not with more love. At least now he was certain he wasn't taking advantage of some poor man. In response to Arthur's confession, Alfred kissed him slowly, doing his best to give Arthur exactly what he wanted.
When the cab pulled up to Alfred's hotel, Alfred all but dragged his new friend up to the room to show him what love really looked like.
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Post by arthurkirkland on Sept 16, 2011 8:36:06 GMT -5
(( All right then, I suppose this ends it off? x3 It had been fun ouo ))
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