To Serve And Protect. [R18]

Alfred seemed almost too happy to have Arthur sleeping next to him. He seems eager to stay close and cuddles into him. He has a smile on his face but it seems a bit forced like hes trying to act as normal as he can. His body movements are the slightest stiff but he settles in none the less.

When Arthur mentions the stars though he turns his head to look and something more natural appears on his face. "Y-yeah..no one's ever noticed that before." He says turning his face back into his pillow as he suddenly feels inexplicably shy.

Alfred lays there and listens to Arthur becoming more relaxed now that he is back in his home environment, in his own bed, with what he realizes is the man that he wants in his bed all the time. "I'm glad you did too." Alfred replies quietly moving his arms to wind around Arthur, head still buried in the others chest. Only then does he allow himself his usual bright smile. "Arthur..I..love you."

Arthur was relieved when Alfred cuddled into him under the covers. At least Alfred could still stand the thought of touching people. That was something, at least. Arthur stared up at the ceiling and was secretly glad that no one had noticed the constellations before, because in order to see them one had to be in Alfred’s bed and Arthur didn’t want to think of anyone sharing a bed with Alfred other than Arthur himself.

“I’m glad that I chose you,” he whispered again, “but I’m not glad that you…” he trailed off. He didn’t want to destroy the fragile peace that they’d seemed to find. Alfred would bring it up in his own time, wouldn’t he? It was best to let Alfred heal at his own pace, however slowly that may be. He relaxed in the other’s arms, letting his chin rest lightly on top of Alfred’s head.

Arthur had closed his eyes and was slowly sinking into sleep when he heard Alfred say something. At first he thought he was just hearing things, but then his heart soared. “I…” he wriggled down until their faces were level with each other’s. “I’m glad,” he whispered after a moment, a wide, joyous grin spreading across his face. “Because… I really do love you, you know. It seems utterly ridiculous because it’s only been a week, but… I just can’t imagine being without you.” He stared across the pillow into Alfred’s eyes and hesitated before inching closer very slightly. “Alfred…” he breathed softly, “is it… can I… would it be all right if I kissed you? I mean, I understand if you don't want to, but... I just...”

Alfred had almost fallen asleep as he had murmured those words and was startled as Arthur suddenly moved in front of him. He opened his eyes wide and looked back at Arthur but his shocked turned into a soft smile when he saw the expression on the others face. "Why do you think I didn't want you to go tonight?..er..other then..yeah." Alfred says starting out confident before his voice drops out half way through.

Alfred continues on as if he hadn't stopped. "But yeah! I mean, it would be odd, without you right there in the room with me anymore. Heheh, I guess I've gotten used to having you always just a step away."

At the request Alfred looks hesitant before he nods. "Just..be careful." He says before slowly leaning part of the way forwards himself. He wants to kiss Arthur too just,..there are certain things he wants to avoid. Luckily, he thinks kissing isn't one of them. He touches his lips to Arthur's and his eyes fall almost closed. He keeps the partially open just to remind himself that it's Arthur he's kissing.

Arthur pressed his lips gently to Alfred’s, feeling the same pleasure and love wash over him as when they had been enthusiastically making out on the couch. It didn’t have to be sexual to mean something. This here, sharing body heat with Alfred and knowing that the American wasn’t afraid of him and simply basking in the emotions that consumed him, this was enough. This meant everything. He kept the kiss gentle and chaste, watching Alfred through half-lidded eyes.

He pulled back after a moment and smiled across the pillow at his boyfriend. The moonlight was streaming in through the window and sent deep shadows across Alfred’s face. Still, he was beautiful. Arthur admired him for a moment before reaching up and gently stroking his cheek. “Thank you for loving me,” he whispered almost inaudibly. “You don’t know how much it means to me…” He laced their fingers together and leaned in again, this time merely rubbing his nose against Alfred’s. “And I want to help you… I’ll do anything you need me to. Anything at all. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it for you. All right?”

Arthur cuddled Alfred to his chest gently and soon the two of them were asleep. He held Alfred close all night long, their breath intermingling across the pillow. And nothing had ever felt more right.

Alfred relaxed immensely as Arthur kissed him and his eyes slide all the way closed. It wasn't long or sloppy but it was still passionate and Alfred didn't pull away until a good few seconds later and that was only to sink back into the pillows.

Alfred was drifting off again with the release of all the tension that had built up in his body over the coarse of the day. He barely heard what Arthur said but squeezed Arthur's hand back gently as their fingers met. He makes a small noise in recognition to what Arthur says and half nods, half nuzzles against Arthur as his falls asleep fast.

In the middle of the night Alfred wakes ups startled though, something is touching his stomach and chest and suddenly he wants- no needs to get away. He squirms and panics and when his eyes shoot open he can see that it is only the sheets that he has managed to get twisted in from his usual tossing and turning at night. He sits up breathing hard, hands wiping across his face as he feels cold sweat.

Arthur was woken from a distressing dream about Alfred running off with a mermaid and leaving him alone at the beach by a strange thrashing at his side. Sleepily, he patted at the disturbance, mumbling incoherently. His hand made contact with cold, clammy skin and Arthur shot upright, rolling off the bed and landing in a crouch, blinking around the room blearily. “Wha—what’s—” he caught sight of Alfred sitting bolt upright in the bed and everything came rushing back to him.

“Oh… Alfred…” He scrambled back onto the bed, still half asleep. Arthur hovered anxiously, knowing that it wouldn’t be wise to touch Alfred while he was in that state unless Alfred reached for him. His head was still fuzzy from sleep and he shivered while he sat at the foot of the bed. Maybe he could try simply talking to Alfred?

“I’m very useless at this time of night,” he began groggily, scratching at his head and wincing when his nails came in contact with the cut. Maybe he should have had that looked at. Oh well. “So I don’t really know what I’m saying. But Alfred, I’m here and I love you and I won’t let anyone touch you ever again.” He inched forward very slightly on all fours. “So you can go back to sleep now and if you like I can stay up and make sure that no one comes near you, except me of course, but I won’t ever do anything that you don’t want me to do. Okay?” He looked at Alfred expectantly, wondering he’d made any sense at all. He couldn’t even remember what he’d said.

Alfred vaguely registers someone on the other part of the bed and flinches as first. Sleep combined with his eyesight made it hard to see in the dark and for a moment he was expecting someone to jump out at him. He hears Arthur's groggy voice though and tries to calm down. He is in his room, safe with his boyfriend. Everything is fine, he tells himself.

For awhile he just listens to Arthur ramble and it's comforting. Just having him talk to him. He eventually leans back slowly and settles down into the bed again, he pointedly kicks the covers off though. He's sweating and too hot and he doesn't want it touching him.

"Thanks Arthur.." He mumbles sleepily as his hand reaches out across the bed, fumbling until it find's Arthur and holds onto whatever he can grab. With that as an anchor Alfred closes his eyes again and falls back into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning Alfred wakes up, moving a hand to shield his eyes because light is pouring in from the window and blinding him. He tries to cover it with his hand but that doesn't seem to work. So he pulls at his covers to hide under them like he usually does only to find he is laying on top of them. He finds this odd for a moment and looks around for Arthur. He remembered going to sleep next to the other man.

Arthur staggered out of the bathroom with wet hands, having just relieved himself. He blearily stumbled back towards the bed as he wiped his hand on his pyjama bottoms and yawned. True to his word, he had stayed up all night in Alfred’s arms, gently stroking the other man’s face whenever his forehead began to crinkle into a frown. He’d edged away when Alfred’s movements became too agitated and had quickly pulled the American back into an embrace as soon as Alfred began to reach out again. Alfred had clawed at him at one point, leaving shallow red marks down his arm. They would have been deeper and probably would have drawn blood if Arthur hadn’t been wearing long sleeves.

He was nauseous from exhaustion now and his balance was definitely off, but if given the choice he would have definitely done it all over again. Alfred should never have been that frightened and hesitant. That wasn’t who he was. Arthur was just glad that he’d been in Alfred’s bed last night, and had noticed when Alfred had woken up in terror.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he mumbled stupidly, staring back at Alfred. “How are you feeling this morning?” He yawned again widely and sat on the edge of the bed. He’d examined himself in the mirror, and Arthur knew that he wasn’t a pretty sight. He was pale and dark bags were forming under his eyes. His hair was more of a mess than it usually was and his eyes were dull and becoming unfocussed. Still, he wanted to do all he could for Alfred. “And what would you like for breakfast, darling?” The endearment slipped out without his consent and he paused, blinking. “I—er, I mean… well…”

Alfred looks up when he locates Arthur but the sound of his voice and smiles. "I feel pretty good." Alfred says honestly. It had been an odd, fitful night but Alfred was all too happy to have spent it with Arthur and put another day behind him and everything in that college.

Still, as Alfred looks over at Arthur he gets the idea that he didn't have the same night. He scoots over to him and leans against Arthur's shoulder lightly. "You look a mess, didn't you sleep well?" He asks, concern in his voice. He reaches up to touch Arthur's cheek, fingers brushing over his cheekbones and eyebrows, coming to a halt at his chin as Alfred leans up to plant a quick kiss to Arthur's lips. Alfred is grinning like a usual idiot as he pulls away.

At the question about breakfast Alfred perks up once again. He is very ready for breakfast and nods. Although the term of endearment doesn't go unnoticed. His cheeks flush just a little light dusting of pink but he is reminded of his own search for the right term to use. "We can go in the kitchen and try to make some pancakes or something, sweetheart."

Arthur blushed at the chaste good morning kiss, the redness spreading across his sickly pale skin. "I... Er..." he mumbled, dazed. He hadn't stayed up to extract gratitude from Alfred in the morning, no, he'd done it so that Alfred would get a relatively peaceful sleep and possibly feel a bit better. He was quickly crumpling under Alfred's weight and his vision was kind of blurry but he summoned a smile nonetheless. "Don't worry about me."

S-sweetheart? Arthur felt dizzy. His whole face lit up in a broad grin and he found Alfred's hands, squeezing them tightly.  Sweetheart?! Oh, Arthur felt like he could die happy now. He'd always wanted someone to call him by that endearment, and for a while he'd pretty much given up that dream, thinking that no one would ever love him enough to call him that. But Alfred had, and Alfred loved him, and God he was grinning like an idiot but he couldn't help it, he was so happy, and it felt so right to be called that by Alfred. He felt kind of faint now, his mind repeating sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart!!! triumphantly. Giving up his much-needed sleep had definitely been worth it. 

"Y-yes," he stammered, trying to get over his mini spazz attack. "Yes, pancakes, very good." He climbed off the bed and held out a hand to Alfred. Arthur ended up staggering to the kitchenette, dragging Alfred along behind him. His eyelids drooped as he tried to find the right ingredients, eventually settling on a simple bottle of 'add water and shake'. He yawned constantly and leaned heavily on Alfred as the pan heated on the stove.

Alfred did worry though. He didn't need his glasses to tell that Arthur was a mess currently. He would address the problem later though as at the moment it seemed that he had hit the mark perfectly with the pet names if Arthur's expression was anything to go by. Sweetheart it was then, Alfred though as he squeezes Arthur's hands back and grinned himself. The other's excitement was endearing enough in it's own. Alfred had never thought that such a simple thing could make someone so happy.

Alfred chuckled as he was led by the hand into the kitchen but had to catch Arthur from meeting the floor on more then one occasion. He held the sleepy man up, standing by the stove with him. "Arthur..are you sure you don't want me to do that. You can go rest while I finish breakfast." he says trying to convince him to give up the job as Alfred grew more and more concerned that Arthur might hurt himself somehow if he kept fumbling with hot pans while in such a state.

Arthur knew that it would be stupid to handle a hot pan in his sleepy state, but he also didn't want to leave Alfred to make breakfast on his own. He pouted slightly as he drew back from the stove. "I'll let you do that, just this once," he mumbled, "but I'm not going to back to bed." Arthur flicked on the coffee machine sitting by the sink and hurried away to avoid the smell. He was already nauseous enough. He began hunting through the drawers and cupboards until he'd produced plates, cups and cutlery.

 It was quite amusing to note that all of Alfred's mugs were either bright red or featured super heroes. Arthur set everything up on the benchtop, then began his hunt for tea. While he highly doubted that Alfred had any, he was hoping that Alfred had at least single bag hidden behind the row of poptart boxes or under the coffeebeans. 

Eventually he had to admit defeat though, so he had a look in the fridge to see what else was available. Normally he'd be grumpy at the lack of tea, but he was honestly too tired to be grumpy. Alfred's fridge contained milk, orange juice and a strange red substance that looked suspiciously like cordial. Alfred and red cordial. What a terrifying thought. He poured himself a cup of milk and set Alfred's mug on the tray under the coffeemachine, staring quizzically at the multitude of buttons. 

"I don't know what to press," he complained, burying his face in the back of Alfred's shirt and wrapping his arms loosely around his boyfriend's waist sleepily. "Isn't coffee just coffee? Why is it so complicated?" The scent of Alfred combined with the sweet smell of pancakes was delicious and Arthur almost ended up falling asleep right there, pressed against Alfred's back. 

Alfred gladly toke over at the stove and poured the pancake batter into the pan when it was hot enough. "I Didn't say you had to go to bed, at least go sit down or something." He watches from the corner of his eye as Arthur goes around his kitchen but has a small smile on his face.

Alfred flips the pancake in his pan and pour some more for another. While is attention is on the food for a moment he is surprised to find arms around him and a body pressing into his back. He chuckles at the question and looks over at the coffee maker. "It's already set, all you have to do is press the start button. There. "He says gesturing with the spatula in his hand. He flips the other pancake and sets his tools down for a moment to turn around and return the embrace to Arthur. "Tell me something." He says quietly, rubbing the other's back. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

“O-of course I slept!” Arthur replied, face red. And it wasn’t a lie. He had been asleep until Alfred had woken him up with his thrashing, after all. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Alfred’s shoulder, purring softly at the way Alfred rubbed his back. “Alfred,” he said after a moment, pulling back shyly. “Alfred, darling, you’re going to burn the pancakes.” He hurried over to the coffee machine before Alfred could question him again and pressed the big green button that Alfred had pointed at.

Instantly the coffee machine began hissing and rumbling, causing Arthur to jerk back in shock. He tripped over his own feet and scrabbled for anything that would keep him toppling to the ground. His hands found Alfred’s shirt and as he fell, he managed to pull the American down on top of him. “Ow,” he muttered, arching his back a bit to rub at his tailbone. Fucking bloody hell, that hurt! He blearily stared up at Alfred and, on an impulse, leaned up to kiss him softly.

Alfred continues to hold into Arthur for a moment. He isn't sure if he believes him or not but he decides to let it go. He'll make sure Arthur gets some sleep tonight at least. He looks over his shoulder at the stove and before he knows it Arthur has escaped his arms and is flying back over to the coffee maker. "Ah, the food's fine." he replies just before he is yanked rather unceremoniously backwards.

Alfred throws out his arms in front of himself so that he doesn't end up crashing all his weight onto Arthur and hisses as his elbow hits the floor. "Arthur..are you okay? You've got to be more ca-" He is cut off as lips meet his own and he immediately responds by dropping his eyes closed and kissing the man under him back. Call him easily distracted all you want, he quite enjoyed it.

Arthur drew back after a moment, giving Alfred a silly smile. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ll be more careful.” While he’d been kissing Alfred, he’d been distracted from the pain radiating from his tailbone but now he groaned softly and rubbed at it. “You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?” he asked Alfred anxiously, running his hands down Alfred’s arms to check for injuries. Though the kitchen floor was probably very dirty, Arthur was content to just lie there under Alfred and stare up at him. He yawned suddenly and blinked sleepily. There was a strange smell coming from the stove…

He lifted his head and sniffed at the air. That smell was strangely familiar, but out of place here. What was it? He glanced up at the stove and, to his horror, found thick black smoke rising from the pan. “A-Alfred!” he said, panicked, as he wiggled out from under the taller blond. “I told you that you’d burn the pancakes!” He grabbed the smoking pan and thrust it into the sink where it immediately began sizzling and spitting. Arthur rushed around the flat throwing open all the windows before collapsing face down at the counter. That had used up far more energy than he had stored away and he was tired.

“Alfred…” he muttered into the bench top, one hand questing blindly across the surface for Alfred. “I can’t believe that it was you rather than me who almost set your flat on fire.”

Alfred returns a shy but amused grin. He shifts on his elbow, feeling that it is going to be bruised but he doesn't mention it. "I'm fine." he insists before turning his gaze on Arthur. "What about yo-."

Before he can figure out whats going on, Arthur is scrambling out from under him, leaving Alfred in a confused heap on the floor. "Ah-Your the one who keeps distracting me." He says although there is no bite to it. He stands up and watches Arthur run around the apartment before he moves too. He takes a glance at what is left in the pan in the sink and cringes. "Well, what do you propose we do for breakfast now?" He asks scratching the back of his head and glancing over at Arthur.

He walks over to the other side of the table and takes Arthur's hand. "Thank you though, for saving my apartment from a horrible cooking accident.." He reaches out with his other hand to brush at his boyfriend's hair when he notices something.."Arthur..Arthur is that a cut on your forehead?" He asks leaning down to get a closer look.

"W-what?" Arthur jerked back from Alfred's hand, almost overbalancing on his stool. He'd almost forgotten about the cut, having been more concerned with Alfred. Now that it had been mentioned it throbbed dully, causing him to clap a hand over it. He probably should have a least disinfected it last night, but he hadn't exactly been thinking straight. "Er-- don't worry about it, Alfred. It's not a big deal." Not as big a deal as what happened to you, he meant. 

He pulled his hand away tentatively, peering at it but fortunately all that came away were a few flakes of dried blood. Arthur gingerly probed at the cut with his fingers. "A-anyway, what would you like for breakfast, now that pancakes are out of the question?" he yawned, trying to change the subject. He'd feel incredibly selfish if Alfred wasted any concern on him, considering the state that the American had been in last night. 

He yawned again. Arthur definitely didn't have the energy to go anywhere except maybe to the couch for a nap, but if Alfred wanted to then he could probably scrounge up his very last reserves of energy. He leaned back across the bench-top and took a hold of Alfred's hand again, running his thumb across the knuckles. 

Alfred smiled a bit at the touch to his knuckles and moved to lace their fingers together before thinking better of it. He needed to make sure Arthur was alright.

"No, let me look at it." Alfred says as he rounds the table to go over to where Arthur is. He slides up close to him, putting one arm around Arthur's waist and using the other to brush back his hair once more. He has to squint a bit to focus on it but he can see the cut there along with what must be a bruise. "Does it hurt?" He asks running a finger lightly over the place.

Alfred has to chuckle quietly even though he is concerned. "..like the first day we started on the case.." His expression goes fond even at such an odd to place memory. "Are you always going to be hitting your head on something?"

He turns his head to take one last look at the forgotten breakfast before sighing. "I'll just grab something out of a box and we can go to the couch. How about that?"

Arthur pouted when he heard Alfred laughing. "Don't laugh at me! It's not as if I can help it... Everyone just seems to enjoy tossing me about." What was with that, anyway? Surely he didn't weigh that little? He hissed when Alfred prodded the tender area and jerked backwards, covering it again. "Ow! Stop touching it!" he cried, climbing off the stool so that he couldn't accidentally topple off it.  

The cut gave a single massive throb that made Arthur's knees go weak for a moment before it settled again. "It only hurts if I touch it," he confessed weakly, clinging to Alfred's arm. "Otherwise, it's fine. I don't even notice it. It'll heal in a week or so, so you don't need to worry." Chances were, if it was going to get infected then it would have done so already. But Arthur still felt okay, other than the utter exhaustion that seemed to weigh him down heavily and blur his mind. 

"Yes, whatever you like," he agreed. It didn't matter what Alfred wanted to eat. Arthur doubted that he'd be able to stomach anything before getting a few hours of rest. Figuring that he wasn't of any more use in the kitchen, Arthur grabbed Alfred's coffee and his milk and made his way over to the couch. He set them down on the coffee table curled up on one end of the couch where, despite his best intentions, he immediately snuggled into a cushion and fell asleep. 

Alfred released Arthur when he saw the pained expression on his face. "I'm sorry..I was just trying to help." He holds onto Arthur elbows to keep him from falling over. "Be careful until it heals, alright?" He says and before he can change his mind he leans to give a small peck on the skin just beside the cut. When he is sure that Arthur has his balance Alfred let's go of him and goes to rummage through the pantry.

He fishes out one of his favorite poptarts and takes it back to the couch. He sits down beside Arthur and turns to offer him some of his snack only to find his boyfriend fast asleep. He doesn't dare disturb him then. Doing his best to settle into the couch, without making too much movement Alfred takes a sip of his coffee and makes a small happy noise. He wishes that things like this could last forever. It's peaceful. There is a looming report they have to give to the station though somewhere in the near future. It can wait for all he cares at the moment.

Alfred would flick on the tv but that would make too much noise he thinks. So he just sits there quietly nibbling on his snack. He'll let Arthur sleep for as long as he wants..in fact he's a little sleepy still himself. He leans his head back against the couch and closes his eyes..just for a moment, he tells himself.

Arthur stirred a few hours later, his body attempting to uncurl without much luck. Groggily, he cracked open his eyes and squinted up, feeling a heavy weight pressing down on top of him. "Wha'?" he mumbled stupidly, giving a small groan when he realised that his foot was itching but he just couldn't reach it. His brow furrowed and he tried his best to wiggle out from under whatever was pinning him to the couch until he realised what that weight was. Alfred had fallen asleep on top of him. 

He stilled almost immediately. Alfred seemed to have simply flung himself over Arthur, possibly in his sleep. Arthur could hear every beat of Alfred's heart and feel every breath that the taller blond took. His left leg was almost completely numb, though, and his right leg was getting there. Oh fuck. He couldn't get Alfred off without waking him, but he needed to get out from under the American before his entire body went numb. 

"Alfred," he said, his hoarse voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silence of the room,"darling, wake up. You're crushing me." He gave Alfred a tiny shove with his shoulder and peered up at his face. Alfred looked... Strange. There was something different about him... Arthur belatedly realised that Alfred must have lost his glasses at some point the night before. He'd probably had blurry vision all morning. It was Sunday though, so Arthur wasn't sure whether any optometrists would be open. They would have to replace Alfred's glasses as soon as possible though, he knew.  He couldn't have Alfred runnig around half-blind. 

Alfred's face crinkles up in discomfort as he stirs awake and tries to shift and get comfortable. He's laying on something oddly lumpy though and he cracks his eyes open to see what it is. It takes a moment but as Arthur face comes into focus he splits into a grin. "Hey Sweetheart." He says and for a moment makes no move to get off of him.

Alfred relents though and sits up though. He remembers he was doing something before he fell asleep again. He looks down and there is snack crumbs all over his lap. He must have dropped everything when he fell asleep. The thought amuses him and Alfred finds that despite everything he is in a good mood. "Sorry, I didn't realize I had fell asleep, I didn't mean to." he says.

He holds out a hand to help Arthur sit up. "Have a nice nap?"

"Yes, yes, lovely nap," Arthur mumbled, yawning as he took Alfred's hand and eased himself up into a sitting position. He leaned his forehead against Alfred's shoulder and sighed. "'M still sleepy, though..." He couldn't go back to sleep now though, because if he did then he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight and then his entire sleeping pattern would be thrown off. Still, he buried his face in Alfred's sleeve and let his eyes droop half-shut, inhaling sleepily. 

"My legs are numb," he complained after a moment, poking at them in mild annoyance. As soon as he started moving, he'd immediately be assaulted by a wave of pins and needles. Pins and needles ranked very highly in Arthur's top list of sensations that he hated, so he didn't want to move any time soon. But it was better to get it over and done with if he had to go through it anyway. 

Arthur unsteadily climbed off the couch and took a single, hobbling step before his knees buckled and he crashed to the floor with a small gasp. "Alfred," he called, stretching both arms out towards his boyfriend, "come and help me walk it off!"

With Arthur slumped into his shoulder Alfred puts an arm around him and brings his hand up to ruffle his hair slightly. Something about Arthur all disheveled just really agreed with Alfred he thought. "At least you shouldn't be tripping all over the place now?" Alfred comments.

He watches Arthur get up and fall to the floor and makes a face, rubbing the back of his neck. "Er..or maybe not." He says standing up and stretching on his legs before walking over to Arthur and looking down at him. "Getting clumsier on me?" He asks waiting a moment before he leaning over and takes Arthur's arms and tugging him up. He puts an arm around him shoulders again and does the same with one of Arthur's arms on him. "Come on now, it can't be that bad. Should we walk around the apartment?" The apartment is n't very big and there isn't much space to go around but he can work with that is there if need be.