Same Job, Different Time and Place [R-18]

Arthur seemed extremely cheerful though Alfred wasn't too worried. Each of the times that Arthur was drunk, he wasn't all that bothered by it. He didn't seem to always get on the nerves and Alfred surprisingly did have quite a bit of patience. Of course he wouldn't let his boyfriend go alone out in the streets or even to his own flat at the moment. He wanted him close so that he could at least keep an eye on him. Though any sign of intelligence that he knew that Arthur had seemed to be wiped clean from his mind.

Instead the American just smile back and closed the door behind them though he was surprised when Arthur kissed him clumsily. He let the kiss last for a moment before he pulled away, making a face at the taste of the alcohol and he almost choked on the other's tongue.

"Ah yeah...um...good evening." He smiled cheerfully, intent on taking care of Arthur tonight. He soon tried to lead him to the bed. "How about you lay down on the bed and I'll get you some water, okay?"

With that, he turned away towards the kitchen and grabbed Arthur a glass of water.

The world around Arthur seemed to be spinning as he let Alfred lead him, completely trusting him. He had to lean on Alfred to be able to keep upright, however.

He landed on the bed with a thump and stared up at the ceiling as Alfred left. He then looked around the room he was in. He couldn’t remember being in there before. They’d mostly gone to Arthur’s house because he was such a pest about cleanliness. He could see dirty clothes littering the floor in what Arthur thought was supposed to be a pile. He rolled around on the bed, waiting for what seemed like forever for Alfred to come back.

He took off his shoes and unbuckled his belt, enjoying the brief release it gave him. He shoved off his trousers (that he had worn to work that day; he was still in his suit) after deciding that they were too uncomfortable and shrugged out of his suit jacket, which went down with his trousers. His tie was already loose around his neck but a much better use for it was around his head, he thought. It would be hilarious. Alfred would laugh so much that he wouldn’t know what hit him. And then Arthur would seduce the boy into fucking him into the mattress or letting Arthur fuck him. It had been a few weeks since their last penetrative encounter, after all.

Arthur pouted up at the ceiling, deciding that Alfred had taken too long when in reality it had only been a few minutes. He clambered off of the bed and started to leave the room, without realising that his feet were still tangled in his trousers.

Arthur fell flat on his face.

They certainly never really came to his flat after dates but that was mainly because of his problems in keeping his flat completely clean. It was clean in the living room and the like but the bedroom was still rather messy. Alfred would just have to clean that in a bit so when the other became sober the next day, he wouldn't be too disturbed by the mess littering his room. He decided that it was relatively safe to keep Arthur on the bed and he soon grabbed some painkillers and water for the older man, which took him a few minutes to find the right kind of medicine for his boyfriend.

Though he soon jumped when he heard the thump from the bedroom and his eyes widened, swivelling around and quickly hurrying into the bedroom. "Arthur!" He gasped as he put the medicine and glass of water on the nightstand.

"Fuck, are you alright?" He asked as he tried to lift him up and lay him back on the bed.

"Just rest there for God's sake. And...why are you wearing your tie around your head?" He asked with a sigh, reaching forward to take it off. Arthur would be furious if he woke up the next morning and his tie was ruined just because of some drunken stupidity. He sighed softly and gave Arthur the glass of water, keeping a careful eye to make certain that the other didn't accidentally spill it.

"Drink up."

“’M fine!” Arthur insisted, rolling on to his back as he grinned up at Alfred. He held the tie straight up in the air. “Look, Alfred, I’m a Darlek. Exterminate!” he laughed as he was hauled back up on to the bed. He pouted as his tie was taken away from him. “And the Doctor wins again,” he mumbled. “Same bloody ending every series.”

Like babies, Arthur had bounced. He wasn’t at all injured (other than the throbbing at the front of his head). He rubbed his forehead, letting a quiet groan escape his lips before a glass of water was thrust at him. He grimaced.

“I don’t want any water,” he held it out to Alfred. “You could do with it more than me,” he frowned. “You’re a growing boy, after all.” He flopped back on to the bed and again stared up at the ceiling. He contemplated it for a long while, completely silent as he blocked out Alfred, treating him as though he was white noise.

He sat up abruptly. “I like you, Alfred,” he declared, slurring. “I like you a lot. You’re a good bloke, you know that? A damn good bloke.” He then smirked a little, in a way that he thought was suggestive. “And a good shag, too.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows at the Dr. Who reference...and that was certainly unexpected. Arthur seemed to be rather...excited...to say the very least when he was drunk. He actually wasn't certain that he wanted to see more of it. Certainly he thought that Arthur should cheer up at times but definitely not to this extent. It was actually a bit ridiculous. Yes, slightly endearing but he knew that it would be a long night ahead of him.

"The Doctor always win, babe." He said with a small smile, putting the tie on the night stand as well.

He simply sighed as the other rejected the water and he knew there was no use trying to force him to drink it. He didn't really want to hassle with a drunk Arthur after all...that would be no fun. Even if he was possibly stronger than him.

"I'm glad you like me...and...apparently shagging me but I think you should rest." He murmured with a small smile. The smirk actually looked a bit silly and in fact, Alfred was very, very far from aroused by the other. He didn't want to take advantage of Arthur even if they were together, if Arthur was drunk at least. "Come on. Lie down." He sighed.

“No, no, I wanna’ tell you how I feel because I don’t do it and I know that it must hurt to have a shit boyfriend that bosses you about all the time even though we’re working.” Arthur rolled out of the way, avoiding being made to lie down. He got up on to his knees and placed his hands on Alfred’s shoulders for support. “I was with Gil earlier and,” he paused to hiccup a bit, “he was flirting with all of these girls an’ I just wanted you to be there with me. I missed you so much.”

Arthur tried to kiss him again but pulled away after a short amount of time.

“Gotta’ piss,” he stated bluntly, sliding off of the bed. He managed to land successfully on his feet and began to wobble out of the room, in search of the bathroom.

Alfred hesitated at that and he swallowed thickly. He knew that was the truth because Arthur was oddly very, very truthful when he was intoxicated but he never really expected to hear that. "Hey...you're not a shit boyfriend...it's your job to boss me around and it's my job to listen to you." He tried to say comfortingly, reaching up to stroke the other's hair. "I'm sorry. I should have been there with you. I missed you too." He whispered and he decided that if Arthur continued to at least be like this, then he wouldn't mind so much.

In fact, it actually made him feel a bit guilty for not being there and actually enjoying the fact that Arthur missed him so much. "I'm here right now." He said and he soon let Arthur stand up to go to the bathroom, standing up a bit to make certain Arthur didn't pass out or fall anytime soon. He still was a bit worried about him and he didn't want anything to happen to him.

Arthur took his time, after having to remember how to function properly. He stumbled back towards the bedroom and when he entered again, he let out a loud and pained gasp.

How had he not seen the full damage in this room earlier? Sure, he’d noticed the clothes all over the floor but he hadn’t noticed the sheer amount of dust in the room on the windowsill and the nightstands. He looked mortified.

“Bloody hell, do you ever tidy up, Alfred?!” he marched (sloppily) to the side of the bed, ran his finger over some dust and held it up to the American to see. “This is as thick as a beaver’s backside. I thought that my cleanliness had rubbed off on you. I mean, you never come in with bits of toast all down your shirt anymore.” He heaved an over-dramatic sigh. “Silly sod.”

He sat down on the bed again and curled his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them. “I’m bored,” he pouted, meaning ‘entertain me’ (or ‘dance, monkey, dance!’ depending on how you looked at it).

Alfred was certain that because Arthur was intoxicated, he wouldn't know how messy his room was. He couldn't help but frown though when he heard the comment on his room. "Of course I tidy up!" He defended, flinching a bit as he looked around his room. "It's not that bad and I just haven't had time to clean up my bedroom is all." He muttered.

He really didn't think there was anything wrong with it but he certainly didn't want Arthur to talk to him about cleaning up his room. They were together as boyfriends! Alfred wasn't his mother or anything of that sort. That would have been extremely weird in all reality.

He soon glanced over at Arthur, raising an eyebrow. "You should be getting some rest instead, Arthur." He heaved a sigh, climbing on the bed so he could push him down on it. He wouldn't mind resting next to the other for the night since they've done it plenty of times before.

Arthur, yet again, had other ideas. He laughed a little as he was pushed down on to the bed and grabbed at Alfred’s arms, trying to pull the other on top of him.

“My idea is much more fun. Alfred, let’s have sex,” he leaned up and kissed the American too heavily again. He locked his arms around his neck this time, meaning that he couldn’t get away. “Sex with you is good. Really, really good,” he spoke between sloppily kissing Alfred’s chin and jaw, unaware that it was quite repulsive.

“That’s why you instantly took me here, isn’t it, you dirty bugger?” he giggled, much quieter than earlier although he still didn’t quite have control over the volume of his voice. “Come on, poppet. What is it that song says…? Like on the discovery channel? Some bollocks like that. Anyway, fuck me,” his language was coarse, vulgar as per usual. He was just leering up at his boyfriend expectantly, as though he thought that Alfred would be eager to jump straight into bed with him.

Alfred's eyes widened a bit when Arthur leant up and kissed him a bit too heavily. He was distracted for a few moments before he tried to pull away, panting softly. "Arthur! I can't have sex with you." He whispered, trying to push the other down. "You're drunk." He murmured with a frown, trying to climb off of him.

He couldn't help but redden a bit at the mention of him instantly bringing him there. "N-No! The reason why I brought you in here in the first place was because you need to rest!" He exclaimed, flustered and admittedly a bit irritated. He couldn't have sex with Arthur! He was a good man and would only do it with Arthur's sober consent. At least when he wasn't acting in such a lewd manner.

"Come on. Just sleep. I can't have sex with you tonight."

“What?” Arthur raised his large eyebrows, surprised by the response. “Oh, come on, darlin’! I want you, really badly,” he whined, not letting go of the American. “Sod consent, I’m giving you consent right now. Fuck me!” he bellowed the last part loudly (so loudly in fact that it would be surprising if Alfred’s neighbours didn’t hear).

“Alfreeeeeeeeed,” he wrapped his legs around his lover’s body, holding on tightly as though he’d never let go until he got his way. His hands risked letting go of Alfred’s shoulders to go to his chest, groping his pecs through his t-shirt unceremoniously. “We haven’t had sex for at least a week! You must want it as badly as I do. Oh please, please!” Arthur rarely said ‘please’ in such a tone.

It began to dawn on him that Alfred would be unlikely to chance his stance. He became much more sombre.

“You can’t or you won’t have sex with me?”

Alfred felt his breath hitch in his throat as he heard Arthur pretty much beg him for some sex. "Arthur! Stop it! You're damned drunk and horny and it's wrong for me to have sex with you!" He hissed out in a whisper. He couldn't help but flinch as he heard just how loud Arthur was. The neighbours most definitely could hear it...hopefully they weren't in. Though it was rather late at night.

"No, Arthur. You can wait until tomorrow if you want it so badly!" He frowned and he did want sex but he couldn't take advantage of Arthur. He really, really couldn't. It went against everything that he stood for and he wasn't sure how Arthur would forgive him if he did go along with his urges. Despite everything, he couldn't help but moan a bit when the other groped his pecs.

"Be quiet for a moment! The neighbours will hear!" He hissed out and he soon frowned as he noticed the sombre mood. He just stared straight at his boyfriend and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry. ...I won't have sex with you. Not tonight."

At that, Arthur began to frown and let go of Alfred entirely, limp beneath him. He stared at the man above him and before he could help himself, he could feel tears brimming in his eyes.

“Why? It’s not just because I’ve been drinking. I’m not drunk.” But he really was. “It’s more than that. I bet it’s Kiku. I see the way you look at him. Am-am I not…” good enough? Like with his parents. He’d never been good enough for his parents and now he wasn’t good enough for Alfred, either. He felt his lower lip start to wobble before finally his shoulders shook a little. He placed his hands over his face, quick to shield himself from the other. He couldn’t believe that he was crying, and he didn’t want Alfred to see it.

“Get off of me,” he commanded, though his voice lacked strength and sounded strained as he repressed his small sobs that had come from nowhere.

Alfred felt as if his heart stopped when he saw tears brimming in Arthur's eyes and honestly, even if he was drunk, he never wanted him to be sad. Though despite this, he was still exasperated and a bit offended that the other accused him of that. He held Arthur close, sighing softly.

"Dammit Arthur. You're so stupid and tiring." He muttered. "I don't like Kiku like that! I like you! Can't you get it in your stupid head that I like you?" He asked, a frown on his lips as he refused the other's command and instead kept him close. He wouldn't get off of him...not any time soon. He didn't want him to wander off somewhere and do something completely stupid.

He was just drunk... It was irritating but he was just drunk.

"I won't have sex with you because you're drunk. You're very drunk, Arthur. I don't have it in me to do that with you...do that to you." He kept his voice low.

Arthur struggled against his hold, protesting at being held and coddled like some infant. He was still incredibly proud even though he was drunk. He wouldn’t be but to shame like this.

His breathing was laboured as he tried not to cry, meaning that he did not hear most of what Alfred said and unfortunately missed the sentiment in the words. Had Arthur been sober, he would have kissed him silly and fallen a little more for him. But he was drunk and crying and Alfred wasn’t getting off of him, which was making him uncomfortable and hot.

“Alfred, I told you to get off of me,” he snarled, somehow managing to find his voice again. “Get off. I want to sleep.” Arthur began to push at his boyfriend’s shoulders to get him off. “Just sod off,” he growled tearfully.

It seemed as if Arthur was still extremely prideful even when he was intoxicated. That was a shame considering that Alfred was just trying to help him and to reassure him. Yet all of his efforts seemed to be miserably failing. He loosened his hold on Arthur, sighing a bit though not completely letting go though now his hold was light enough that the other could easily pull away if he wanted to.

"Stop it, Arthur. You're acting childish." Well that was definitely something he was never really expecting to say though the other trying to push him away left him in a bit of a sour mood. Why couldn't Arthur understand?

Hopefully things will turn out better for them both in the morning. Arthur was just extremely drunk and he didn't know what he was saying. He really didn't mean any of it. Irritated, Alfred finally pulled away a bit, settling on the bed right next to him.

"Fine then. Whatever you want. Just go to sleep! I was just trying to not take advantage of you." He grumbled, closing his eyes though not completely drifting off. Not until he knew that Arthur was asleep next to him because dammit, he wouldn't let the other wander off.

“Says Alfred fucking Jones,” Arthur mumbled and glared at him until he was settled down on the bed. He turned on his side, facing away from Alfred. He was still crying, but not as much anymore. He felt quite bitter now as well as the initial hurt at the rejection.

He lay staring at the wall for what felt like hours, completely numb. That had hurt Arthur more than he thought that it would. Sure, people had said no to sex before, but they hadn’t gotten annoyed about it. Nor had anyone called him childish. Other than his mother. The association of Alfred and his mother was sickening. He was already starting to feel ill, his head throbbing.

Soon enough, Arthur was asleep.

Alfred sighed softly and decided not to say anything as he kept his eyes closed, turning away from the other. Normally he would be able to handle Arthur when he was intoxicated but he spent most of his day worried sick about the other and his drinking habits and then he had to baby him and not only that, but his room was criticised and then the other threw a fit about not having sex! Also accused him of liking Kiku instead of himself!

He knew that Arthur was drunk but fuck...it still hurt to be accused of it. What if Arthur actually thought about that with him? He was brutally honest when he was drunk.

Soon enough he closed his eyes and fell asleep, not rousing from his sleep until the sun came up and the light peered through the windows. All night he was tossing and turning as bad dreams flashed through his head and insecurities rised up in him.

Arthur had been up long since the sun had been up. He’d already thrown up twice and still felt awful. His head was pounding from lack of hydration and from when he’d fallen over the night before. Every time he moved, he could feel his insides swaying along with his movements. It was horrid. He felt like he could die.

When he finally returned to the bedroom after cleaning the bathroom (he wasn’t exactly going to leave it in a state – his morals couldn’t bring him to do it no matter how angry Arthur was with Alfred), he went straight for his clothes and pulled on his trousers and jacket (which were creased beyond belief). He was careful as he took his tie from the nightstand and tied it loosely around his neck.

He watched Alfred for a few moments. Arthur had said more than he’d wanted to and God, did he regret it. He couldn’t believe that he’d done something so stupid as to even come around. What had he expected from the lummox anyway? No, he should have just gone home and slept there instead.

“Arsehole,” he muttered as he sat to put on his shoes.

By the time that Alfred woke up, he already felt a bit more relaxed though still a bit stressed out. At least it was the next morning and Arthur wasn't drunk and maybe things would turn out better. Yet the first thing he was greeted with seemed to say the exact opposite. Instead he frowned, sitting up and looking over at the other.

"An 'arsehole'? That's not nice to say." He murmured, trying to tread carefully though it seemed as if Arthur was still rather angry at him. Why was he angry at him? Sure he called him a bit childish but by God, he was drunk! He did act a bit childish and he didn't want to take advantage of him.

He couldn't help but frown when he saw the other pulling his shoes on.

"Wait...are you going back home?" He asked, a bit hesitant now. He didn't want Arthur to be angry at him for the night before. He tried his best to deal with him but he was hurt from last night as well...!

Arthur ignored him at first until he was questioned to which he huffed.

“No, I’m going to pick daisies in the fairy garden,” he snapped, sarcastically. “Yes, you moron. I’m going home. It’s obvious that I’m not wanted or needed here,” He barely took the time to look up at him. He simply did up the laces to his dress shoes, frowning at some of the scuff marks on the leather. He’d have to clean his shoes later. What fun. He stood up again and adjusted his jacket, fastening it.

He caught sight of himself in a mirror and had to look away again. He looked horribly unwell. He didn’t want to draw any attention to it. He cleared his throat and turned to leave the room.

Alfred flinched at that and he furrowed his eyebrows. "What makes you think you're not wanted or needed here?" He asked carefully. Certainly he rejected him the night before but dammit, that didn't mean that he didn't care for him. He still wanted what was best for him and wasn't what he did in the end good?

Though when he looked at Arthur, he noticed that he didn't look his greatest. Alfred quickly got up to his feet when his boyfriend turned to leave the room. "Wait! Arthur! I think there's a misunderstanding here!" He said, trying not to raise his voice. He didn't want Arthur to just march out of the flat, not without at least attempting to resolve things between the both of them.

“Alfred, I’m really not in the mood to play games. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” the Brit rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been expecting for the other to get up. He turned and looked back at Alfred and his face twisted into an unattractive glower. This expression made his eyebrows look twice as large and made him look suitably older than he was; the face of an over-worked man.

“What is there for me to misunderstand, Alfred? For God’s sake, you said it yourself. You won’t make love to me. That is a physical choice. I don’t know whether it’s because you haven’t topped anyone for a long time and you’re being stupid about it or if you simply just don’t want to.” He looked away. “I feel sick, I don’t want to discuss this any further.”

Alfred couldn't help but be surprised with that and honestly, he thought that a sober Arthur would at least understand the very reason why he had rejected him the night before. He just furrowed his own eyebrows, looking rather tired as well and a bit over-worked but not nearly to the extent of Arthur. But he was tired and he had a lot to deal with the night before.

"You're misunderstanding!" He defended, biting his lip. "I said I wouldn't make love to you because you were drunk! I didn't want to take advantage of you in that state!" He said, fists a bit clenched. "Don't you understand that I care for you and that I just wanted you to rest?" Alfred dragged off a bit, a bit uncertain and extremely hurt.

Did Arthur honestly believe that about him? Wasn't his affections from before that night evidence enough that he cared about him a lot?