To Serve And Protect. [R18]

It wasn't his fault? That was nice of him to say, but Arthur knew that the American didn't really know what he was talking about. Alfred hadn't been there, hadn't seen the gloating in the man's eyes as he'd pulled the trigger. Arthur shook his head, concentrating on his clothes. He looked up when Alfred asked how he looked, and finally noticed the damage to the room. 

Somehow, it was comforting to know that he wasn't the only one with a violent temper. 

He looked nice. Innocent. But that wasn't the look that they were going for. "The jeans are fine," he said, "but try this shirt on." He tossed a black sleeveless shirt at the American. It fitted Arthur well, so it would probably be tight on Alfred. "We've told them that we're a couple, so we'll have to stick to it. If it comes to it though, I'll just say that we had an argument or some such thing."  He said, then made his way over to the bathroom, clutching a few articles of clothing and leaving Alfred to change his shirt in the bedroom. He hoped Alfred understood. If engaging in sexual contact became necessary...

Once he was in the bathroom, he took a deep breath. Dressing provocatively wasn't new to him, but he suddenly felt shy in front of his partner. It was strange, but he was worried about what Alfred thought. Sighing, he stripped down and changed his clothing. 

Arthur stepped out of the bathroom slowly, feeling himself flushing but not quite knowing why. He wore a thin white collared shirt that was cut in such a way as to accentuate the slenderness of his build. He left the top buttons undone, revealing a soft black choker encircling his neck. Under the shirt were a pair of tight black shorts that just covered his arse, leaving most of his pale thighs on show. He held a pair of boots in his hands and paused, awaiting judgement. 

That outfit had never failed to gain a reaction from a target. Arthur wondered what Alfred's reaction would be. He smirked nervously. "Like what you see?"  

Alfred catches the black shirt and inspects it, it looks smaller then anything he's worn before and he hopes that he doesn't rip it or anything on accident.

He nods and watches Arthur disappear into the bathroom. He understood but that didn't mean he had to like it. "Fine..." He says although Arthur probably can't hear him. He slips off his white shirt and pulls on the black one with a bit of difficulty. It is indeed tight and rides up, showing the tiniest bit of his stomach.

Once he was dressed Alfred went back to stuffing his things back into his bag. It somehow felt wrong to mess the place up when he was sharing it with someone.

He looks up as he hears the bathroom door creep open an turns to look at Arthur, really look at him. He can't help his eyes wonder over Arthur's body when it it so on show like that. He had never found a man attractive before and he face heated up at the thought before he quickly looked away. He didn't dare open his mouth to answer for fear of saying something he would regret somehow.

Alfred's disinterest stung for a moment, before Arthur caught sight of the American's flushed cheeks. He was just being shy, then. How cute. Arthur allowed his gaze to scan over his partner's body and gave a nod of approval. While Arthur was slim and compact, Alfred had the physique of a star athlete. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and the tightness of his shirt showed off his muscled chest wonderfully. And that sliver of skin that showed just above the jeans...

"Shall we go, then?" Arthur murmured, bending down to slip his long boots on. Once that was done, he patted himself down. "Don't bring your mobile phone," he told Alfred, "there are too many ways to lose it at a party. I don't know what you have on yours, but they can be very incriminating if someone is already suspicious."

Not having phones on them meant that it was easier for them to become separated though. Ah well. Seeing that Alfred was finished with his clothes, Arthur beckoned him forward and ran a hand through the golden locks a few times, leaving Alfred's hair dishevelled. "Wonderful," he said, a blush creeping across his face. He turned away. "Let's go now, before we're late."

It wasn't hard to find the specified room. A crowd of scantily clad students were slowly drifting towards there, so the two of them just followed the students. As promised, the trio from that afternoon were dressed up and waiting for them just outside the door. 

"Ah," Francis said as he caught sight of them, "the two of you look absolutely delicious." He caressed the side of Alfred's face with one hand, while the other trailed down Arthur's side. 

Alfred toke a moment for the color in his face to leave before looking over again, making sure to avoid staring as the other boy bent over to deal with his shoes as he was sure that would just restart the reaction from before.

"Ah, ok." He replies, slipping fingers into his own pockets. He doubted that he could even get his phone into them with how tight those jeans were. "What if we lose each other though?" He asks slightly concerned. He doesn't expect any answer though.

When Arthur motioned for him he leaned over wondering what it could be and was surprised by the fingers in his hair. The feeling funny but not unpleasant in the least. He almost closed his eyes.

"Ah! Right! Let's go!" He says quickly and follows Arthur out of the room, locking up behind him.

The more people Alfred saw along the way he more nervous he become. They all seemed to know what they were doing so well. Alfred, himself was rather unsure. He was new to this but determined to do his best. He, strange as it sounded, wanted to make Arthur proud of him and he begins to feel more confident.

That is until they see the three friends again. Alfred casts a wary look over them, lingering over the french one. As Francis goes to touch him he shifts away from that hand, incidentally shifting closer to Arthur in the process.

Arthur felt Alfred press closer to him and felt a stab of annoyance. How dare that frog touch his partner! He reached over and wound an arm around Alfred's waist possessively, pushing away Francis' wondering hands. "'ello, lads," he smirked at them, laying on his accent thickly. "Did we dress skanky enough for you?" He could feel the heated looks that they were getting from all around them.

Francis nodded wordlessly, gaze tracing the lines of their bodies as Gil knocked on the door. It opened and someone peered out, conversing with the albino momentarily before they were ushered through the door. 

Inside was dark and smoky, with pounding music and the sharp tang of alcohol in the air. Space had been cleared in the centre of the room, where a crowd of bodies ground against each other and moved as one. There was a row of bottles lined up on the kitchen counter, along with plastic cups. 

Antonio made a beeline for the dance floor, where he immediately began harassing an irritated-looking brunette. Francis caught Arthur by the wrist and tugged him towards the alcohol, ignoring the way the Briton dragged Alfred along behind him. 

"Come have a drink," he told them, gesturing to the bottles. "Then we can play a game."

Arthur glanced at Alfred, frowning. "A game?" he repeated, tugging his wrist away from the Frenchman and leaning against his partner. "What kind of game?"

"Something innocent," Francis assured them. "Seven Minutes in Heaven perhaps, or Truth or Dare. Of course, we can always play something of a more adult nature if you so insist." He waggled his eyebrows and Arthur pressed more closely against Alfred. 

"What do you want to do, love?" he asked, tilting his head back to look at Alfred. 

Alfred could feel eyes on him, something he wasn't unused to but it still made him nervous. Before when people looked he knew it was because he was nice, handsome, friendly and maybe a little loud. Now it was different though, those eyes on him felt hungry and he wanted to squirm because he had intentionally put himself in display,

He thought he might feel better as they went inside. How wrong was he. The whole place gave him a bad vibe but he doesn't have too much time to think on it as he is jerked further into the room by Arthur and his suddenly connecting hands.

Alfred eyes the alcohol, normally he wouldn't mind such a thing but it would be bad if they got wasted and spilled their identities or worse. So he vows to stay away from it for the night.

Alfred instinctively moves to hold Arthur by the shoulder, slipping his arms around the other's neck as he leans against him, listening to the other two talk. When he is asked his opinion he simply smiles down at Arthur. "I like games." He says nodding. It is the truth, he does like games, just not those kinds, but he distinctly remembered their witness saying something about a truth or dare game. They had to take the lead. "So yeah. Let's give it a try." he says trying to show Arthur that he isn't afraid. Alfred looks down trying to convey his thoughts with his eyes. It seems that he really does only have eyes for Arthur to anyone else that might look. The spacey boy avoided everyone else's gaze after all.

"All right," he agreed with a smile. "Pour us a drink, Francis, and we'll play a game." It was almost scary how right Alfred's arms felt around him.  They seemed to fit him exactly and he couldn't deny how safe he felt encircled in them. If only they'd met a few years earlier, he mused, when things were simpler and he wasn't so jaded and used and tired. But that didn't happen, and they had a job to do. 

Arthur accepted a mixed drink from Francis and took a gulp of it. It burned as it made its way down his throat, warming him up inside. As they followed Francis into one of the corners of the room, Arthur poured his cup out into one of the many cups scattered around the room, leaving about a mouthful left in the one he was carrying. There was a group sitting in a circle, playing a game that seemed to involve quite a bit of snogging and groping. Francis gestured for them to sit, and Arthur perched himself comfortably on Alfred's lap, pretending to take another drink from his cup. 

He looked around at the people making up the circle. Any one of them could be their suspect, he knew. But which one was he? Arthur leaned back against the American's chest. "He might be one of these men," he murmured into Alfred's ear. "We have to stay alert."

"The drunkest of us starts," Francis was saying when Arthur turned his attention back to the man, "and the rules say that you can't ask or dare something too clean, or else you both get punished. So be dirty!" He beamed, and the game began. 

Alfred watched Francis pour them drinks before taking his cup, keeping one arm around Arthur. He looked into the cup and sniffed it experimentally before taking a sip. It wasn't bad really, much to his surprise. He had seen what it did to people though and told himself he wouldn't drink much of the stuff.

Alfred followed along rather like the big puppy he was and sat down in the circle of people he didn't know. He let out a tiny sound as Arthur sat in his lap but was used to it by now and found that his presence there wasn't unwelcome now that he was expecting it. He sits his chin on Arthur's shoulder, close enough for them to whisper to each other.

He nods while lifting his cup to take another sip. Taking that chance of the cup hiding his lips to say. "I know, I'm on it." He says glancing around the circle of people, eyes falling onto Francis again as he speaks. He cringed at the 'rules' hoping he could think of something satisfactory to the others while still being able to life with himself after wards.

Arthur..is probably good at games like this, he thinks for some reason that he won't let linger long enough to inspect it. Instead he busies himself taking in the situation, using all that his training had taught him to pull in on anything suspicious.

It'd be easiest to stick with dares, Arthur knew. If someone dared them to go into a seemingly abandoned house then they'd know straight away who the suspect was, but Arthur knew that it couldn't possibly be that easy. Still, it was logical enough so when a stranger across the circle from him asked, "truth or dare?", he chose 'dare' with no hesitation. There were already a few people engaging in various adult activities around the circle, but it was to be expected. It was a university party full of hormonal, not-quite-adult males, after all. He could handle it. 

"Get your boyfriend there to cuff your hands behind your back for the rest of the game," the man said with a leer. Arthur's heart stopped momentarily, and then began pounding. Surely they hadn't been that obvious? They hadn't been acting like officers at all -- they hadn't even asked any questions!

 "W-what?" he stammered, shooting Alfred a wide-eyed, panicked look.  

"Here," someone tossed Alfred a pair of fluffy red handcuffs, obviously bought from an adult store. Arthur relaxed then, hoping that his face wasn't too pale from the earlier shock. 

"Oh," he said, "oh, yes. C'mon love, cuff me then." He leaned forward, holding his wrists together behind his back and sending the circle a smouldering look before framing his neck to catch sight of Alfred's expression.

Alfred was conflicted by this game now. If he chose dare they might make him do something he didn't want to judging the the circle of people already going at their dares. If he chose truth, the he would probably have to lie..and he didn't like lying either.

Alfred made a concerned face at Arthur's dare. It wasn't really that bad but..he didn't have any cuffs on him..and well they shouldn't expect him to either. The panicked look on Arthur's face said the same thing.

He caught the cuffs in his hands and they felt odd to him. He didn't know people put feathers on them for such activities. Strange. He looked up at Arthur who didn't seem to mind and after a moment of fiddling with the cuffs (the darn feathers got in the way) he got them open and around his partners wrists.

It was really something he thought, the irony of having to put cuffs on his partner while undercover. At the same time it was kinda, that is to say, exciting. He had cuffed people before when he was a security guard and every time they struggled about. Arthur didn't seem to be struggling but surely it was easy enough to get out of the toys. It wasn't like they were real.

Arthur fidgeted as he heard the cuffs click into place around his wrists. He tugged at them lightly. They certainly weren't real handcuffs, but they weren't plastic toys either. They seemed fairly secure and Arthur had to force himself to relax. He disliked being restrained by anything, but this was more for show and besides, having Alfred with him was a great comfort. Arthur wriggled a bit on his partner's lap, trying to find a position that was both comfortable for his arms and comfortable for Alfred -- if he sat down the way he had earlier, he'd be forced to grope the poor lad's groin. As it was, he couldn't lift his hands very far away from Alfred's lap at all and ended up brushing against the American's toned stomach. 

"Truth or dare?" He asked someone across the circle, desperately wracking his brain for something to say. 

"Truth."

"State your favourite position and why in detail."

While the man quite drunkenly began describing the pros and cons of certain sex positions in great detail, Arthur relaxed back against Alfred's chest. The smoke was making him feel a bit lightheaded, so he wriggled around and buried his face against his partner's shirt. He was sure that plenty of people were smoking and doing drugs within the dorm room -- too bad they weren't here for a drug raid. He inhaled a few times and turned back around in time to see the man finally finishing his spiel. 

"You," the man slurred, nodding at Alfred. "Truth or dare?"

Alfred resisted the laugh that bubbled up as fingers brushed against his stomach. To cover it up he coughed off to the side. It wasn't that hard to fake with all the smoke in the air anyways.

He listened to Arthur ask the other guy a question and his tried not to hear the answer. He would have covered his ears but that might have looked odd, plus he didn't want to let go of Arthur. It wasn't like he enjoyed holding him or anything, just he might be like a turtle with his hands tied and not be able to get up if he fell over. Yes, that was Alfred argument to himself as he nearly missed that it was his turn.

"Ah..dare." Alfred says and immediately wanted to change his mind but kept his mouth shut. He waited for what he would be asked to do and hoped to god that it wasn't anything too horrible. If he could just get through this.

The man grinned at Alfred, and Arthur found himself glowering. What did he want Alfred to do? He leaned back against Alfred more firmly and fixed the man with a glare. His dare hadn't been too bad, but they were only going to get worse from here. 

"Make out with..." The man paused, glancing around the circle. "Francis."

Arthur made an indignant noise and wiggled off Alfred's lap and onto his knees. It was the only way to keep his balance -- standing up fully would have been impossible without falling over. "What's the punishment if he doesn't?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. He probably looked like the dirtiest of sluts, kneeling on the floor in short, tight clothing with his arms cuffed behind his back. But damn that frog, he'd probably been planning on snogging Alfred all along! Arthur began planning the worst dare he could think of for that him. 

"He could grope you and put on a show for us all," the man offered. "That'd be hot as hell. Go on, spread 'em."  There were a few cheers and Arthur glanced at Alfred's face. What was worse? Having Alfred make out with Francis, or having Alfred touch him and make things uncomfortably awkward from now on? He normally didn't mind touching, but this was Alfred and they'd be liking together for the next few weeks. "It's your choice," he whispered into Alfred's ear, "just make sure to dare the frog to keep his hands off everyone for the rest of the night afterwards."

Alfred felt himself reel back at the request. His eyes cut over to Francis for a moment before he goes to protest.

To his surprise though Arthur beats him to it. He turns to look at his partner again and is greeted with a site that he isn't sure whether he wants to look away from or not. Eventually he gulps and looks off to the side.

Alfred's face lite up like a christmas tree at the second suggestion. He doesn't know whether to look for Arthur's encouragement to take the alternate dare or not.

At the whisper Alfred nods. He reasons, at least he has kissed Arthur before..even if it was nothing special. He'd rather take his chances with his partner then give his mouth over to that creepy french guy.

"I choose you, of course." He says looking at Arthur and reaching out to pull him in his lap again. He seems hesitant though as he reaches around, hands stopping as they run over Arthur's lower stomach.

He really doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't want to make Arthur uncomfortable either. He doesn't know what to think about the idea of touching the other like this.

Arthur arched up against Alfred's touch. The American's touch left what felt like a burning line across his stomach, even through his shirt.  "C'mon, love," he purred, glancing around with half-lidded eyes, "let's give them a show to remember." He stared deliberately at the man who had dared Alfred as he tilted his head back against Alfred's shoulder and slowly spread his legs. Then he was sprawled, wide open, in his partner's lap, face flushing a delicate pink as he felt Alfred's hands running lightly along his skin. "Touch me," he said, trying to sound demanding. They'd wanted a show, so they'd sure as hell get one. 

Alfred closes his eyes as Arthur opens up to him, going by touch alone. His hands run lightly over the junction between his thighs and stomach before going down over his legs. The skins feels smooth under his fingers and he almost let's a smile slip onto his lips.

He had almost tricked himself into thinking that it is someone else until he realizes that he doesn't want it to be anyone else.

That's when his hand find's Arthur's cock, palming it through his shorts. His cheeks set ablaze at that. "A-Arthur.." He says testing out the name on his lips.

Arthur shuddered as Alfred's fingers danced across his pale thighs. It almost tickled, but the light touch filled him with more warmth than he could ever remember. He tugged at the handcuffs for a moment before remembering that he couldn't move his hands, and that Alfred would have to do all the work. 

And then Alfred's hand eased its way between his legs. 

"A-al--" he moaned, tipping his head back against Alfred's shoulder and instinctively jerking his hips up against the touch. "Alfred-- Ohhh--"

Was this okay? He had no idea. Alfred was acting much more confident than Arthur had thought he would, but he wasn't complaining. Every touch sent sparks through his body, turning his vision hazy and reducing him to a gasping, moaning, wanton mess. His cock felt so hard, so restricted in his shorts. He'd never felt like this, never felt so sensitive to every touch and sound, as if his heart was about to burst from warmth and love.

He moaned again at the thought. It couldn't be love. They'd only properly met the day before. And soon, very soon, Alfred would snap out of his new-found confidence and would push Arthur away in disgust, and refuse to look or speak to him again. He'd tell everyone in the station what a slut Officer Kirkland was, how willing he was to spread his legs for anyone. It couldn't be love. Could it?

"Al--Alfred--" Arthur tilted his head back to look at his partner, his face betraying his fear and vulnerability. "P-please--"

Alfred was encouraged by the sounds he was producing from Arthur. Somehow they were lovely and heating all at once.

He ground the heel of his palm into Arthur's groin, light touches turning into a firm feel, tracing the edges of his hard on and using his other hand to feel up his chest as if exploring the other's body.

In truth Alfred really was becoming fascinated. He's never touched another male body like this before and he was surprised to realize that as much as he knew about himself, he didn't know about Arthur either. Discovering the places that made him gasp were quickly becoming his favorite.

Finally, he opens his eyes and looks down at Arthur finding the other looking down at him with such an expression that he hesitates in fear of hurting the other. He does the only thing he can think of in such a situation and removes his hand from Arthur's cock and pulling his partner tightly, safely, to his chest. He kisses the side of Arthur's face, catching the shell of his ear with his lips in the process.

Arthur moaned loudly as Alfred's lips brushed against his ear. Dimly, he registered the loss of friction against his cock and whined, thrusting his hips uselessly into the air. He tugged at the handcuffs, wanting some kind of touch down there, any kind of touch. The scent of Alfred, the feeling of his warm, firm body beneath him and the breathing in his ear--it was overwhelming and he needed more. 

"More," he moaned, panting heavily. "Please, more, Alfred--"

Desperately, he turned his head, blindly seeking Alfred's lips with his own through the lust-filled haze that clouded his senses. His bound hands jerked against Alfred's groin, trying to incite a response. 

Alfred was going to kiss him again when he hears the those pleas and pulls himself back. Of course, this was about getting off he had to remind himself. This wasn't for anything but show after all right. He hadn't even realized when he had started to think of it as something else.

He shakes his head and returns his hand to where Arthur obviously wants it. Rubbing against the other man a little more forcefully than before.

He is a bit surprise as Arthur tries to capture his lips again and in his sudden worry he moves away, so that those lips fall short of his. He is even more surprised when Arthur's bound hands brush against his own groin and to top it all off Alfred finds himself half hard as well. That has to be the biggest surprise of all.

Arthur's breath hitched strangely in a half-sob when he felt Alfred withdraw and ignore his seeking lips. Of course, he thought. Of course Alfred wouldn't want to kiss him unless absolutely necessary. Who would want to kiss someone like him? No matter what he felt, it wasn't like this meant anything to the American. He gave another shuddering half-sob and then cried out as Alfred's hand returned to his cock, rubbing a bit more roughly. 

"Ahhh-- Alfred--"

He looked out at the rest of the circle, and noted with a bit of disgust that some of the men had their cocks out and were jerking themselves off at the sight of the two of them. One of them came right up in front of Arthur and reached out a hand, pupils heavily dilated with lust. 

"Let's take him to the bedroom," the man said to Alfred, palming his own cock. "We'll give the little minx the time of his life."

Alfred had nearly forgotten that there were other people in the room until that hand shot out towards Arthur. This made him look up and reeled in disgust at the sight before him.

"No!" Alfred shouts before he can help himself. One hand carefully cupping Arthur's hard on still while the other maneuvers him around until he is sideways in Alfred's lap and pressing him to his own chest protectively.

"He's mine, so back off. None of you get to so much as touch him." Alfred growls suddenly finding his voice. He wasn't about to send his partner off into a dark bedroom with these perverts, even if, he contemplated, Arthur might want to go.

Arthur found himself being pulled sideways and gasped, his mind disoriented and hazy. He pressed his face against Alfred's firm chest, the words slowly filtering through to him. He didn't want to go with the man. It seemed unlikely that he had information, but that was the least of Arthur's concerns. He didn't want to sleep with the man. He wanted Alfred. Please, he thought, I want to stay with you.

Arthur fought against the cuffs for a moment before letting his shoulders and arms fall limp. He wanted to reach up and touch Alfred's face, wanted to fling his arms around his partner, wanted to...

"A-Alfred," he moaned, straining up again in an effort to reach the American's lips. Just one kiss. He just wanted one kiss. Then Alfred could do what he liked with him. Could cast him aside or fuck him; Arthur wouldn't protest. "Please... Yours, I'm yours, please--" His lips found the edge of his partner's jaw and he let out a sob. He couldn't make it, couldn't reach that high up. Couldn't reach Alfred's lips. He just wanted a kiss. 

Alfred felt Arthur wriggling around once more and looked down at the man, lips catch the other's as Arthur had his head tipped back at just the right angle.

Alfred noted that England looked like a mess and he was either lost to whatever alcohol and smoke he's breathed in or he was a damn good actor. Feeling a bit of pity for the man, he reached under and felt his way around the cuffs until the clicked and fell off.

Alfred rubs at Arthur's wrists, knowing that with all the struggling he had been doing, they were probably sore.

At the words spilling out of Arthur's mouth Alfred makes a strained face. He couldn't possibly know what he was saying. "Yes, I'm here for you." Is what he replies to his partner before looking up at the rest of the crowd.

"I think we'll be leaving..Can you stand?" He direction the last part of that to Arthur, more then willing to carry him back, if need be.

Trembling, Arthur forced himself to rise. What was wrong with him? Even lust wouldn't have affected him so much. He gripped Alfred's arm and jerked back against his chest when one of the men reached for him again.

"Have a bit of fun!" the man said, holding out a cup. "Come on, have a bit more and loosen up! You lost the dare, too, by the way."

Arthur leaned forward and peered into the cup, seeing the same bright green mixture he'd been drinking before. A sudden thought occurred to him, making his stomach twist in dread. 

"Where's your cup?" he asked Alfred, his voice hoarse. He didn't wait for an answer though, instead letting go of his partner and allowing himself to collapse into an ungraceful heap at the American's feet. Arthur reached for Alfred's cup and examined it. It was light blue. He sipped it then, and confirmed his suspicions. 

There had been something in his drink. 

"You stupid bastard!" The feminine screech had Arthur whirling around on his knees, hands automatically feeling for a weapon he didn't have. He covered up the movement by winding his arms around Alfred's legs to keep his balance. 

A girl was striking at the albino from before -- Gil, his mind supplied slowly -- and shouting various expletives. He closed his eyes and leaned against Alfred's legs, trying to pick out her words over the pounding of the music. 

"Why did you... In the bottles... Look... Everyone... Fucking... Kill..."

Gil had put something into some of the bottles. Now everyone was fucking. Was Gil suspicious? Who else knew? What was in the drink? His arousal throbbed painfully in his shorts and he stared around the room wildly. Who hadn't been affected? Who had tried to get someone off by themselves? Was their suspect even here?

"A-Al!" he gasped. He couldn't concentrate. He needed to be touched. Had Alfred had any of the drug? His fingers tightened around Alfred's legs, trying to refrain from unzipping his shorts and jerking himself off. "Need... To..."

A thought struck him. Had he only felt that way because of the drug? Even though Alfred had made him feel so warm? The thought made him suddenly feel cold inside, even as he felt himself sweating. 

"Come on," the man repeated, clearly affected by the drug and assuming that Alfred was too, "we can all fuck you together. What do you say?"