Arthur stood there dumbfounded, feeling the rush of frustration wash over him like a turbulent wave. He knew it. He knew the blonde was up to something. This wasn’t even about feeling guilty or anything. The American was playing dirty, and seeking his revenge through a situation he so clever reversed back onto Arthur. The Brit kept his calm and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“All right Alfred,” He replies and seemingly repeats, “Whatever compensation you’d like.”
The shorter male quickly closed the distance between the two, bringing both of his hands up to gently press his palms against Alfred’s chest. Just a slight push, to throw the other nation off before he jumped up, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His arms reached up, cupping the younger’s face in an inflexible grip, drawing his face down, just inches from Alfred’s.
“I know what you’re doing, Alfred. But it’s fine, I’ll play along with it.”
The Briton dropped his head down, pressing his lips against his lover’s, tilting his head slightly. His tongue, slick with his own saliva, slid in right between the other’s lips to explore it’s warm crevices. The muscle continued to glide along side Alfred’s, poking and twisting; consumed in their own familiar dance. His thumbs stayed glued to Alfred’s cheeks, gently massaging little circles on the skin’s surface.
He continued, realizing his own increased breathing and decided to pull away, slowly lifting his eyes lips to greet the other nation’s gaze.
“Now, maybe I can have my phone back?”
Alfred had this all in the bag. Usually Arthur was pretty boss when it came to these sorts of mindgames. And sure, Alfred hated to admit that he more often than not fell for them time and time again, but he was learning. Having Arthur as a partner gave him the opportunity to learn a lot from the Brit.
Or so he had thought.
‘Wow, jerk—’ Alfred barely managed to think as Arthur grabbed onto him. Alfred’s eyes went upward to watch the older man. “Wha—What. Play—What….” He suddenly found himself…what could be the word for it…? In shock? It was like being paralysed.
That was the most enjoyable kiss he had ever had. All over a phone.
‘I’m going to have to steal more of his shit,’ Alfred mentally noted, bringing an arm to wrap around the Brit. He could barely focus on what Arthur was doing; he just wasn’t expecting this to be the outcome. Not at all.
Kiss long gone, and over with, Alfred merely pressed his head to Arthur’s chest and raised the phone. “I give.” He sighed loudly and inhaled to catch his breath. “You win.”
“You win.” This still applies to me, of course.
NO, ARTHUR—
WHAT THE FUCK.
Remembering back on this day, we can both see it’s quite obvious that I’m still a prominent victor.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFF.
You’re being a douche tonight.
