[Fanfic] Typing One Handed [USxUK]
Oct. 30th, 2009 12:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blood_wingedTitle: Typing One Handed
Genre: Romance
Pairing(s): USxUK
Rating: R
Warnings: Solo, swearing
Summary: Arthur finds that he loves teasing Alfred over instant messenger, and that having a new lover after so long has done wonders for his dormant libido~
Written foramael_elen based on another AIM conversation, so don't blame me if you don't get it. =P
This is all Alfred’s fault, Arthur mused, with not half as much bitterness as he’d tried to inject into the thought as he shifted uncomfortably and tried to concentrate on typing. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he couldn’t get those thoughts of his new lover out of his head (and really, for only spending a week together there were a lot of thoughts), Alfred just had to keep talking about it. Because damn, Alfred had looked so cute when they had finally tumbled into bed and he had nervously admitted that Arthur had been right, and he had never done this before. There had been something so exciting about that discovery, and about having to give the young man gasping instructions of just where to put his fingers and when to go faster.
He had never known about that scar on Alfred’s chest, just below his ribcage on the right side. Alfred had tried to hide it at first, but Arthur had insisted that he loved each and every part of Alfred, including any marks on his body. He had pressed a soft kiss to that scar and Alfred had shut his eyes and let out a breathy sigh, and then-
‘Arthur?’
Arthur blinked at his computer screen, and it took a moment to register that Alfred was trying to get his attention. Sighing, he barely noticed as he pushed one hand down between his thighs and pressed his palm lightly against the growing tightness at his groin. It really, really didn’t help that until just a few nights ago his libido had been more or less non-existent, and now he felt like a horny teenager and it was all that sodding American’s fault. Not that he could say he minded.
Alfred was so adorable when he was worried, and he had been so, so very worried about being able to please Arthur. If he were honest, the older nation hadn’t needed to give that much direction – Alfred was smarter than he let on, and he had picked things up very quickly.
‘’Lover’...I really like that term...’ Alfred had typed, and Arthur found himself smiling.
‘I thought you might,’ he responded. ‘You are, though, aren’t you?’ He would have loved to have been having this conversation with Alfred face to face, just to see those blue eyes light up, and the tiny crease that appeared between the American’s eyebrows when he frowned, and how his fingers clasped his knees in that adorably fretful way when he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the right words.
‘I certainly am~ and you have no idea how happy that makes me.’ Oh, he was just too... cute... and now he was thanking him for not making too much of a deal about Alfred’s virginity. Arthur had really, really not had any problem with that. In all honesty, he had always secretly hoped that he would be Alfred’s first, though that hope had been all but dashed when they had fought. It had been so difficult to go all those years with his heart aching for the one person that he couldn’t have. What a surprise it had been to find that Alfred had been feeling the same, and it had only been their equally stubborn natures that had stopped them from mentioning something sooner. The years of pent-up emotion had definitely shown themselves when the door to Alfred’s New York apartment had closed and the Englishman had been immediately, somewhat roughly pushed back against the wall and all but ravished.
Damnit, thinking about that wasn’t doing him any good! It was with an almost feverish urgency that he typed now, catching his lower lip between his teeth. ‘I want you to come over here, Alfred. I want you to make me scream your name while I forget my own and every stupid little thing that the government are always pushing me to do.’
He was very much aware of just what saying that would do to Alfred, even as far away as he was. What he wasn’t prepared for was the jolt of need that simply typing those two sentences sent through his body.
“Fuck,” he whispered, closing his eyes and letting out a long, unsteady breath. God, he wanted Alfred so badly. His fingers fumbled at his belt buckle and the button of his trousers, jerking the zipper open and shoving down the front of his boxers, his head falling back as skin met skin and a faint heat rose to his cheeks. It was almost (almost) embarrassing, how helpless he was as soon as those kinds of thoughts about his American lover began to enter his mind, and it was some minutes before he cast a quick, hazy glance at the toolbar on his computer to realise that the instant messenger had disconnected. Muttering a low curse about the uselessness of American technology he fumbled with the mouse, using the wrong hand to click and re-open the damned thing, welcomed back by a stream of offline messages.
It was just like Alfred to suspect that he was distracted by drinking, he thought a little grimly as he bit his lip to keep from panting too loudly, the fingers of his right hand moving in a jerking rhythm in his lap while he slowly and awkwardly typed with his left, teasing, pushing the American to guess what had distracted him so much. He couldn’t help but smirk at the idea that Alfred would never in a million years think that he would be doing this, unless he was given some kind of larger hint. Arthur held back as long as he could until the pooling warmth in his abdomen overrode his habit of being pedantic about his typing. Anything that required the use of the shift key was lost, and his fingers shook as they moved over the keys.
‘i dont suppose youre familiar with the expression......’ he said, deciding to put the poor confused boy out of his misery. ‘’typing one-handed’’
While Alfred tried to work that one out, Arthur picked up his phone, and made a call to have his private plane sent over to pick the American up. It was hard to resist the urge to giggle at the man on the other end of the line as he asked with concern, ‘Are you alright, Mister Kirkland? You sound a little breathless.’, and then he turned the chair back to the computer. He had to laugh at the poor boy’s complete obliviousness, and laugh he did, a gasping sound as he gripped tightly to the edge of the desk, his spine arching away from the back of the chair as Alfred finally figured it out and Arthur smashed his hand across the keyboard, delivering a string of gibberish that would leave no doubt in the American’s mind that he had finally hit the nail on the proverbial head.
Sinking down into the chair and panting harshly, Arthur didn’t realise how tense he’d been until he found that his entire body was shaking.
‘Fuck do I want to hear what you sound like right about now...’
Well, that was something he could do. He picked up his phone again, holding it against his shoulder as he punched in Alfred’s telephone number, typing a quick message to the American just before pressing the ‘call’ button. Shutting his eyes he smirked faintly as he heard Alfred let out a low groan, treating him to barely a minute of soft, laboured breathing before he hung up. It seemed that his activities had had more of an effect on the American than he had first thought, and he felt a spike of excitement run the length of his body.
Oh, he was such a tease.
‘I want you wrapped up in an American flag,’ Alfred was saying now, and Arthur couldn’t stop his thoughts casting back to a few nights previously when he had indeed been wrapped in an American flag, and he couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone so turned on as Alfred had looked upon seeing him like that. ‘Looking all beautiful and sexy like you always do...and fuck, Arthur, I want you every day for the rest of forever just like that...you and me, together and so close and fuck, I don't even know...’
He smiled softly to himself, and then a flex of his fingers brought his attention to the slowly drying thick white liquid covering his left hand (and spattered over his trousers... and the carpet). The Englishman wrinkled his nose a little, wiping his hand over his trousers and moving to tell Alfred that he would be right back. Then that kinky little sod said something that stuck him right back into his chair, a warm flush rising to his cheeks.
‘Just you wait until I get there and you don't have to imagine anything.’
Well, fuck. Fuck that kinky git and his sweet talk and how he could wrap Arthur around his little finger just like- Why was he talking about Thanksgiving...? What would Arthur need a webcam for, he already had...
Ah... but of course Alfred wouldn’t think that someone as ‘unhip’ as the Englishman would have anything resembling modern technology.
Arthur glanced at the webcam perched on top of his computer monitor. He never used it, and now he was kicking himself for not thinking of it earlier. Alfred wanted a show..? Then he was going to get one. The blonde clicked the small webcam icon, and settled back, taking his once more quite ready cock in hand and stroking, his free hand curled over the back of his chair, knuckles white as they curled into the leather. He could just imagine the expression on the American’s face as the image appeared on his screen, and being able to see himself felt thrillingly voyeuristic. If Alfred’s incoherent typing was anything to go by he was certainly enjoying himself.
Arthur shut his eyes tightly and grunted under his breath, lips parting with a broken moan as he rose to a second peak far faster than he thought he would. Perhaps it was something about being watched. He cracked one eye open.
‘Bloody hell, Alfred,’ he typed slowly. ‘What did you do to me?’ Sliding a little lower in the chair he shuddered, trying to calm himself down. He was getting on after all and an old body could only take so much abuse.
He grinned.
‘Your ass is so nice that it is a shame that you have to sit on it.’ The last in a line of very corny statements, and Arthur couldn’t resist teasing the American a little more.
‘Just keeping it safe for you,’ he replied, casting a glance at the webcam and quirking one eyebrow.
‘You'd better be~ I expect to find it in the same condition I left it, you know.’
Another smirk. Arthur closed his eyes briefly and shifted in his chair, feeling the faint discomfort of a vivid purple bruise on his left buttock as he did so.
‘Don't worry, it is,’ was the carefully typed response. ‘Including the bite mark.’
Genre: Romance
Pairing(s): USxUK
Rating: R
Warnings: Solo, swearing
Summary: Arthur finds that he loves teasing Alfred over instant messenger, and that having a new lover after so long has done wonders for his dormant libido~
Written for
amael_elen based on another AIM conversation, so don't blame me if you don't get it. =P****
This is all Alfred’s fault, Arthur mused, with not half as much bitterness as he’d tried to inject into the thought as he shifted uncomfortably and tried to concentrate on typing. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he couldn’t get those thoughts of his new lover out of his head (and really, for only spending a week together there were a lot of thoughts), Alfred just had to keep talking about it. Because damn, Alfred had looked so cute when they had finally tumbled into bed and he had nervously admitted that Arthur had been right, and he had never done this before. There had been something so exciting about that discovery, and about having to give the young man gasping instructions of just where to put his fingers and when to go faster.
He had never known about that scar on Alfred’s chest, just below his ribcage on the right side. Alfred had tried to hide it at first, but Arthur had insisted that he loved each and every part of Alfred, including any marks on his body. He had pressed a soft kiss to that scar and Alfred had shut his eyes and let out a breathy sigh, and then-
‘Arthur?’
Arthur blinked at his computer screen, and it took a moment to register that Alfred was trying to get his attention. Sighing, he barely noticed as he pushed one hand down between his thighs and pressed his palm lightly against the growing tightness at his groin. It really, really didn’t help that until just a few nights ago his libido had been more or less non-existent, and now he felt like a horny teenager and it was all that sodding American’s fault. Not that he could say he minded.
Alfred was so adorable when he was worried, and he had been so, so very worried about being able to please Arthur. If he were honest, the older nation hadn’t needed to give that much direction – Alfred was smarter than he let on, and he had picked things up very quickly.
‘’Lover’...I really like that term...’ Alfred had typed, and Arthur found himself smiling.
‘I thought you might,’ he responded. ‘You are, though, aren’t you?’ He would have loved to have been having this conversation with Alfred face to face, just to see those blue eyes light up, and the tiny crease that appeared between the American’s eyebrows when he frowned, and how his fingers clasped his knees in that adorably fretful way when he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the right words.
‘I certainly am~ and you have no idea how happy that makes me.’ Oh, he was just too... cute... and now he was thanking him for not making too much of a deal about Alfred’s virginity. Arthur had really, really not had any problem with that. In all honesty, he had always secretly hoped that he would be Alfred’s first, though that hope had been all but dashed when they had fought. It had been so difficult to go all those years with his heart aching for the one person that he couldn’t have. What a surprise it had been to find that Alfred had been feeling the same, and it had only been their equally stubborn natures that had stopped them from mentioning something sooner. The years of pent-up emotion had definitely shown themselves when the door to Alfred’s New York apartment had closed and the Englishman had been immediately, somewhat roughly pushed back against the wall and all but ravished.
Damnit, thinking about that wasn’t doing him any good! It was with an almost feverish urgency that he typed now, catching his lower lip between his teeth. ‘I want you to come over here, Alfred. I want you to make me scream your name while I forget my own and every stupid little thing that the government are always pushing me to do.’
He was very much aware of just what saying that would do to Alfred, even as far away as he was. What he wasn’t prepared for was the jolt of need that simply typing those two sentences sent through his body.
“Fuck,” he whispered, closing his eyes and letting out a long, unsteady breath. God, he wanted Alfred so badly. His fingers fumbled at his belt buckle and the button of his trousers, jerking the zipper open and shoving down the front of his boxers, his head falling back as skin met skin and a faint heat rose to his cheeks. It was almost (almost) embarrassing, how helpless he was as soon as those kinds of thoughts about his American lover began to enter his mind, and it was some minutes before he cast a quick, hazy glance at the toolbar on his computer to realise that the instant messenger had disconnected. Muttering a low curse about the uselessness of American technology he fumbled with the mouse, using the wrong hand to click and re-open the damned thing, welcomed back by a stream of offline messages.
It was just like Alfred to suspect that he was distracted by drinking, he thought a little grimly as he bit his lip to keep from panting too loudly, the fingers of his right hand moving in a jerking rhythm in his lap while he slowly and awkwardly typed with his left, teasing, pushing the American to guess what had distracted him so much. He couldn’t help but smirk at the idea that Alfred would never in a million years think that he would be doing this, unless he was given some kind of larger hint. Arthur held back as long as he could until the pooling warmth in his abdomen overrode his habit of being pedantic about his typing. Anything that required the use of the shift key was lost, and his fingers shook as they moved over the keys.
‘i dont suppose youre familiar with the expression......’ he said, deciding to put the poor confused boy out of his misery. ‘’typing one-handed’’
While Alfred tried to work that one out, Arthur picked up his phone, and made a call to have his private plane sent over to pick the American up. It was hard to resist the urge to giggle at the man on the other end of the line as he asked with concern, ‘Are you alright, Mister Kirkland? You sound a little breathless.’, and then he turned the chair back to the computer. He had to laugh at the poor boy’s complete obliviousness, and laugh he did, a gasping sound as he gripped tightly to the edge of the desk, his spine arching away from the back of the chair as Alfred finally figured it out and Arthur smashed his hand across the keyboard, delivering a string of gibberish that would leave no doubt in the American’s mind that he had finally hit the nail on the proverbial head.
Sinking down into the chair and panting harshly, Arthur didn’t realise how tense he’d been until he found that his entire body was shaking.
‘Fuck do I want to hear what you sound like right about now...’
Well, that was something he could do. He picked up his phone again, holding it against his shoulder as he punched in Alfred’s telephone number, typing a quick message to the American just before pressing the ‘call’ button. Shutting his eyes he smirked faintly as he heard Alfred let out a low groan, treating him to barely a minute of soft, laboured breathing before he hung up. It seemed that his activities had had more of an effect on the American than he had first thought, and he felt a spike of excitement run the length of his body.
Oh, he was such a tease.
‘I want you wrapped up in an American flag,’ Alfred was saying now, and Arthur couldn’t stop his thoughts casting back to a few nights previously when he had indeed been wrapped in an American flag, and he couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone so turned on as Alfred had looked upon seeing him like that. ‘Looking all beautiful and sexy like you always do...and fuck, Arthur, I want you every day for the rest of forever just like that...you and me, together and so close and fuck, I don't even know...’
He smiled softly to himself, and then a flex of his fingers brought his attention to the slowly drying thick white liquid covering his left hand (and spattered over his trousers... and the carpet). The Englishman wrinkled his nose a little, wiping his hand over his trousers and moving to tell Alfred that he would be right back. Then that kinky little sod said something that stuck him right back into his chair, a warm flush rising to his cheeks.
‘Just you wait until I get there and you don't have to imagine anything.’
Well, fuck. Fuck that kinky git and his sweet talk and how he could wrap Arthur around his little finger just like- Why was he talking about Thanksgiving...? What would Arthur need a webcam for, he already had...
Ah... but of course Alfred wouldn’t think that someone as ‘unhip’ as the Englishman would have anything resembling modern technology.
Arthur glanced at the webcam perched on top of his computer monitor. He never used it, and now he was kicking himself for not thinking of it earlier. Alfred wanted a show..? Then he was going to get one. The blonde clicked the small webcam icon, and settled back, taking his once more quite ready cock in hand and stroking, his free hand curled over the back of his chair, knuckles white as they curled into the leather. He could just imagine the expression on the American’s face as the image appeared on his screen, and being able to see himself felt thrillingly voyeuristic. If Alfred’s incoherent typing was anything to go by he was certainly enjoying himself.
Arthur shut his eyes tightly and grunted under his breath, lips parting with a broken moan as he rose to a second peak far faster than he thought he would. Perhaps it was something about being watched. He cracked one eye open.
‘Bloody hell, Alfred,’ he typed slowly. ‘What did you do to me?’ Sliding a little lower in the chair he shuddered, trying to calm himself down. He was getting on after all and an old body could only take so much abuse.
He grinned.
‘Your ass is so nice that it is a shame that you have to sit on it.’ The last in a line of very corny statements, and Arthur couldn’t resist teasing the American a little more.
‘Just keeping it safe for you,’ he replied, casting a glance at the webcam and quirking one eyebrow.
‘You'd better be~ I expect to find it in the same condition I left it, you know.’
Another smirk. Arthur closed his eyes briefly and shifted in his chair, feeling the faint discomfort of a vivid purple bruise on his left buttock as he did so.
‘Don't worry, it is,’ was the carefully typed response. ‘Including the bite mark.’
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 01:10 am (UTC)It's so...I can't even...Goodness... D:
<3<3<3<3
I'm in love with this. Lyke, srsly.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 01:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 02:17 am (UTC)♥♥♥ *melts*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 03:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 02:39 am (UTC)it's fics like this that remind me how perfect Arthur and Alfred are for each other... <333
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 04:00 pm (UTC)^-^
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 03:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 04:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 04:48 am (UTC)Arthur + technology is always a win. ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-30 04:02 pm (UTC)I'd imagine Arthur would be better with technology than Alfred would believe - Britain did have one of the first computers XP
Thanks for reading <33
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-05 03:39 am (UTC)im actually cackling in glee when arthur end up calling alfred just to freaking tease him. ohgosh ohgosh.
brb nosebleed
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-05 04:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-06 01:36 am (UTC)my. \O/
...B-b-b-bite mark!? :O