It started with a kiss—a silly kiss in the kitchen, and the next thing he knows Edward is on his knees and his trousers and underpants are pooling around his boxers and Ed is sucking, a maniacal glint in his eye that doesn't look quite sane. Alfons buries his fingers in Edward's hair and cries out as he comes, is dimly aware of Edward helping him sit, and then his friend is kissing him, kissing him with a mouth that tastes of his own come; Alfons kisses back, despite the horrible taste, and thinks that this is wrong.
He drops his coat on the floor, shocked, and only just remembers to close the door of their apartment behind him; the curtains are drawn and Ed is sitting naked on the kitchen table (the kitchen table, Alfons notes dully, they have to eat off that) with a hand wrapped around his cock, watching Alfons with smoky golden eyes as he jerks himself off.
"Well?" he says, lazily dragging the pad of his thumb over the head, smile sharp and feline. "Aren't you going to come give me a hand?"
Abruptly Alfons' clothing feels far, far too tight for this.
Edward is on his hands and knees, breathing fast and watching Alfons with bright gold eyes; his lean, muscled body is tense, one long arch on the sheets, and Alfons nuzzles the curve of his shoulder, the skin on his back where his prostheticís strap has rubbed and rubbed. Fondles his friend's cock gently, and grins at Ed's low moan.
"Alfons," Ed whispers, hips jerking into empty air, "Hurry the fuck up—"
His words trail off on a hiss of air as Alfons slips a slick finger down the small of his back, and the taller blond smiles.
He licks his lips, gulps nervously, and spreads his legs for his friend—wishes that he could see, that he could somehow get this blindfold off. Starts when he feels Ed's fingertips press against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, attempting to jerk his legs back to together; Ed's hands are there, blocking, and then his friend speaks—says, "Alfons, are you sure you want to do this? You're shaking. We don't have to if you don't—"
"Touch me now," Alfons demands, erection aching, still impossibly hard, aroused by the blackness and the lack of sight.
"Look, I'm sorry," Edward says, stroking Alfons' hair. "I have to say, this wouldn't have happened if youíd told me how to do it."
"You were the one who wanted kink, Edward," Alfons murmurs, queasy, and curls into a tighter ball; Edward sighs and says "I didnít even bite you hard."
And then Alfons rears in a flash of motion, pushes his friend down on the bed and growls at him before ducking his head down. "This is how you give a good blowjob!" he says, licking at the soft vein on the underside of his cock.
Edward isnít complaining.
Edward is all the way inside him, pressed heavy against his back, and Alfons grits his teeth—it's a wonderful feeling, but he's impossibly hard and his nipples are aching and he wishes Ed would just touch him; he's too hot and his friend is thrusting mindlessly and there's pre-come dripping onto the sheets and just when he thinks he's going to explode, Edward wraps an arm around him, curls his fingers loosely around his cock. Alfons can't bring himself to care that it's the prosthetic, it's contact and he thrusts into it, gasping at the warmth it brings.
The shower spray is cold, the hot water having run out several minutes earlier, but neither of them notice—Alfons scrabbles at Ed's back, breathing in short hisses of air as they grind against each other, both of them hard and wanting but neither coordinated enough to get out and find the lube; Edward throws his head back, water pouring off the ends of his hair; thrusts again when Alfons is least expecting it and with a yelp the taller blond toppled backwards, snatching at the shower curtain to save himself. As the loud 'rip' testifies, it doesn't work.
The ice cube washes over one of Ed's nipples, and Alfons' tongue follows it a split second later; Ed whines and bucks into his friend's belly, his cock so hard it hurts, and Alfons ignores him in favour of sucking, nipping, teasing the small nub, rendered sensitive from the cold.
"Alfons—" Ed breathes, but doesn't get further than that as his friend switches the rapidly-melting ice cube to the other nipple, expression as devious as it gets. "Please—"
"Not just yet, Edward," Alfons murmurs, breath hot over his friendís wet chest; smiles, gentle and falsely innocent.
They are midway through having somewhat enthusiastic gay sex before Alfons notices that the blind is open; yelps and pushes at Ed. It fails; Edward is stronger, and holds him down as he licks at Alfons' bare throat, their cocks pressing together, slick with saliva. "What's wrong?" Ed asks, nipping at Alfons' nose; the taller blond ducks, not needing a lovebite there, and says, "The blinds."
"What about them?"
"Huh—oh. Oh, shit—-" Edward stands, and Alfons watches him stumble over to them, naked, and thinks they should stick with the bathroom floor from now on.
Alfons refuses to give blow jobs, though he's surprisingly good at them; leaves it to Ed to go down on him, mouth hot and tongue wonderful as it slides under his foreskin, teases the glans and licks at the sensitive spot under the head. Ed asks him why, once; Alfons merely shrugs and says he's paranoid about not being able to breathe, and Ed merely looks somewhat thoughtful before ducking his head and continuing where he left off, gently pulling one of Alfons' balls into his mouth to suck. Alfons threads his fingers into his friendís hair, and moans his apologies.
"You got these from Hughes?" Edward sounds scandalised, and with reason; Hughes himself would be appalled if he ever found what Alfons was doing with his handcuffs. Despite himself, Edward can't help but be turned on; normal people don't get off on being tied to the bed and fucked by pure-blooded Aryan boys, but he does.
"Yes, is that a problem?" Alfons' face is slick with sweat, as are his naked shoulders and back; he thrusts into Ed again, just to hear his friend moan, and is rewarded for it.
"... No, not at all," Ed purrs, and means it.
Just once, Alfons thinks sourly, he'd appreciate a good night's sleep; instead Edward is thrusting against his side, only half awake and expression utterly pitiful. Alfons sighs and props himself up with one arm, reaching out and slipping his hand down beneath Ed's pyjama bottoms, jerking him off slowly—oh so slowly, dry flesh over dry flesh and Edward is whining and writhing and looks utterly beautiful. He comes with a soft sigh and Alfons wipes his hand on his friend's side, rolling over and closing his eyes. Really, he almost wishes he'd never uncovered his friend's bloody libido.
He comes out of the morning haze to intense pleasure; shifts on the pillow, then opens his eyes and sits bolt upright, ripping the covers off to stare—down at Ed, who lies between his legs and is busy sucking away, exploring the crown of Alfons' cock with his tongue.
"Edward?" Alfons manages, his half-awake brain shocked senseless. Edward breaks away, wiping at his mouth with his good hand; grins at him.
"Thanks for last night," he says, and bends back to his task; Alfons almost misses the whispered Equivalent Trade before his friend goes back to his work.
Alfons leans forward, hands on the table, and smiles. "Listen, Edward..."
His friend licks his lips, panting softly, and pulls at the rope tying his arm to the chair. "What do you want to know?"
"Where did you get this from?" Alfons holds it up, before remembering that Edward is blindfolded.
"Will you let me come if I tell you?" Ed asks desperately, his cock visibly throbbing and flushed a dusky red. He pulls at the rope again; whines, attempting to flex his hips into empty air. Alfons takes pity on him, and reaches out to touch his friend's erection.
style="font-weight: bold;">15. Use
"Okay," he says, a few minutes later, stepping away. "I know what to do."
Edward swallows and bows his head, still breathing hard; Alfons picks it up, and pads over to him. "Alfons, come on, don't be like this," his friend protests, gulping; Alfons crouches in front of him, the object clasped in one hand.
"Don't worry, I won't be too cruel," Alfons promises, and then reaches out with the feather duster, running it along the insides of Ed's thighs, watching as the ticklish feathers brush against Edís balls. "Of course, that depends how you define cruel," he adds, amused.