"Hey, Arthur..."

I jump. Alfred never calls me Arthur, even though we've been romantically involved for a month or so by now. What's his plan?

He leans on the door frame of our dorm room, which we share with Kiku.

"Can it wait? I'm in the middle of the good part here," I request, returning to reading my book. Or trying to.

"Heheh...you're already on the bed, that's pretty convenient."

I widen my eyes in surprise. "What exactly ARE you suggesting?!"

He shifts his weight so he doesn't need the door frame's support and swaggers over towards me. Yes, swaggers. With such a cocky air about him, it's clear that there's only one thing on his mind...

"It's about time I gave you your sixteenth birthday present...I'm sorry it's a couple of weeks late, I had so much to revise for..."

His right shin eases itself down onto the bed, on the other side of me. He looks at me with lust in his eyes and I return it with a flustered expression.

Knocking the book out of my hands, he leans over me, lifting his other leg from the floor to rest on the bed.

"Alfred, I-!" I gasp.

He stops his descent towards my face. "What is it?"

"Do you need to do this?" I ask, struggling to find other words to make this less awkward. It's not that I don't want this, I really do, but there's just that risk of embarrassment. "As in, right here?"

"Back at the dorm, okay?" he mutters in an approximation of my dialect. "I've been waiting since that hike for this. And now we have no exams anytime soon, I can finally attend to you."

My face reddens from all this talk.

"I wasn't thinking straight then, I mean, what if Kiku walks in?"

"He's too occupied with Feliciano and that German guy in the journalism club; he'll be gone for a while," he assures me, leaning in closer, slowly and steadily. My gaze flickers to his lips. Wouldn't it be nice to feel them reach mine again, like when we made out for the first time? Not all of those chaste, goodnight kisses. A proper make-out session would've clouded our minds for studying, I decided, so we refrained from them. But now...I guess I'm ready for this.

"Quit teasing me," I command.

"Oh, so NOW you want this? Make up your mind!"

"Bloody git," I mutter under my breath, "why do you have to take so long?"

Getting impatient, I throw my arms around him, accelerating the last few centimetres his lips are from mine. Our mouths clash together, and we continue that frenzied make-out session we were having during that hike, with even more intensity.

"Alfred...oh God, Alfred..." I moan into the kiss, panting. I can feel myself getting hard.

He slides one hand inside of my shirt again, pausing for a second to ensure he has my acceptance. My tongue lashes in his mouth more eagerly as a response, and he accepts it as a yes. His hand amorously moves up and down my side, and doesn't even stop (nor does the kissing) when I drag him down so my back is on the mattress. I don't know why I just did that...

My hips thrust upwards instinctively so that my growing erection brushes against him. Idiot...why do I even feel a sexual attraction towards him?

Alfred's other hand, which had been pressed into the bed, fumbles with the buckle on my trousers. In the heat of the moment, I let him, but barely suppressing (embarrassingly effeminate) giggles as he fails to do so with one hand.

"Sorry," he says as he breaks the kiss, sliding his tongue from my mouth and hand from inside my shirt at the same time. He hesitates before undoing the buckle.

"What're you waiting for?" I ask.

"Well, it'd be weird if you kept your shirt on for this..."

The full realisation of his intentions hits me. Normally, I'd have noticed it earlier, but I was lost in the moment!

"Sex?"

"Isn't that...what you wanted?"

Shit, he looks disappointed.

"N-no!" I blurt out. "It's just, I wasn't really thinking about it and I...I...!"

"What's the matter?" he asks, then his expression changes to mild surprise. "Are you a virgin by any chance?"

I look away. "Yes..." I mutter, embarrassed.

"But didn't you and Michelle," he makes swirling gesticulations, "you know...?"

"No!" I snap, turning back to look into his eyes. "Nothing happened between us!"

"If you say so," he mutters, unbuttoning my shirt. "I promise I'll be gentle."

"Uh-uhm, okay..."

As he's sliding my shirt off of my shoulders, I ask him if this is legal. Sixteen is the legal age, right?

He shrugs, tossing my shirt aside.

"Hang on a tick - you're NOT a virgin?"

"Of course I'm not! Do I look inexperienced to you?" He returns to an upright posture.

"...you're fifteen, aren't you? Your birthday's after mine."

"Actually, because I came here from America, I'm sixteen."

"That's still a young age to lose your virginity..."

"Dude."

"Can't you wait until you're married or at least...mature enough?"

"DUDE," he cuts in. "I do what I want." He licks his lips, moving closer again. "And who I want."

"But it means that I'm not the only one," I mutter sadly.

"Hm?"

"Nevermind."

"No, really. What did you say?"

"I was just wondering...am I...special to you? Or am I just another one of your...your..." I trail off.

"Oh please, THAT'S what you've been worried about?" He leans over me to stroke my hair. "Of course you're special to me...Arthur."

I smile, all negative feelings cast away by his words. He moves down to undo my belt before sliding my trousers off.

He then pauses, looking down at my cock (still clothed, may I add).

"Heh. Trying to see through them, love?" I ask in what I believe to be a sexyish tone. "Don't worry, you won't need your imagination in a second," I add. With courage I never knew I possessed, I take my boxers off and throw them aside.

"I was just thinking," he begins. When someone says that, it's usually for a bad reason... "I probably should've undressed myself before this point, haha."

"Uh, yes, of course. Go ahead."

However, he makes no move to take his clothes off already!

"I said go ahead..."

"Nah. I want you to do it~"

I gulp. "S-sure," I stutter, my hands reaching up to the top button of his shirt, uncertainly.

Shakily, I undo each button, my core muscles straining from being just slightly raised off of the bed for so long. I pull his shirt off with less difficulty than I imagined it would take. He tosses it aside.

Taking his trousers off was a much more awkward ordeal. It was impossible for him to shimmy out of them completely while on his knees.

He steps off of the bed and hops out of his trousers, resuming his position above me. I hope that didn't spoil the moment too much.

Slowly, sensually, he drags his boxers down. His erection is now visible.

I gulp. THAT'S going inside me? Will it fit?

As soon as his boxers are around mid-thigh, he yanks them off quickly, having no need to move slowly anymore.

His finger traces down my side, curving round to the back as it moves closer to my entrance, and...he stops at the very base of my back, withdrawing his finger.

"Let me just test something," he requests, his thumb and index finger moving to my left earlobe. He gently clasps it and massages small circles.

"What're you doing?" I ask him.

"Y'know, some people have ero... argh, what's the word?"

"Erogenous?" I offer.

"That's it. Some people have erogenous zones in weird places. You know, like Feliciano has one-"

"I don't want to know," I cut in.

"Uhm, sorry. Anyway, apparently some people have them on their earlobes."

"Hm. Well, it feels relaxing, but not erotic."

"Well then," he replies, pulling his fingers away, "this should."

The same fingers, tracing down the same side, reach my nipple. He rubs it, up and down, increasing in pace. I soon find myself panting.

"Al-Alfred," I gasp. "I'm...I'm sensitive there...ah...ah..."

Nobody's ever touched me like this before.

He pauses. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Ahn...I don't mind..."

"To be honest, I'm sorta getting blue balls over here. Can I put it in you already?"

"Alfred! Don't use such vulgar terms!" I scold.

"Damn..." he mutters.

"What?"

"I forgot to bring lube..."

"Oh bloody hell. Perfect," I reply sarcastically, crossing my arms.

"Don't worry, I'll just steal some from someone else's room!"

"You are NOT going out there naked!"

"Dude, everyone wants some of me."

I blush. "But that's..."

"Improper, I know, yadda yadda yadda. Unless you happen to have any lube."

"What?" My cheeks flush redder. "Why would I, of all people, have any of the stuff?"

"I dunno," he responds. "Actually, I might have some. Otherwise, I'll use spit."

I wince. "Doesn't spit dry too quickly?"

"That doesn't matter, I don't last very long anyway!" he replies cheerfully, jumping off of the bed and walking over to his own.

"You're saying that like it's a good thing!" I snap, sitting up. "Let me guess, you're just going to satisfy yourself and not even make me cum and I'll end up finishing it off myself; that is NOT what a good lover does, an-"

I stop ranting, realising what I've just said. He stares at me, shocked by the terms I used. Awkward...

He chuckles. "Wow. I didn't know you even have words like that in your vocab."

"Vocabulary," I correct.

"Whatever." He rummages around under his bed for a few seconds. "Yes!" he cries out, lifting a bottle of lube in the air victoriously.

He returns to his position on top of me, unscrewing the lid of the bottle.

"H-hey, Alfred...is this going to hurt?" I ask, still blushing.

"Don't worry, dude. Trust me, if it hurts, I'll take it out straight away, no matter what."

"Okay," I meekly reply, watching as he covers his cock with lube.

"Ready, babe?" he asks.

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"YES!" I shout desperately.

"Whoaaaaa, somebody's eager for this hot guy!"

"Shut it," I reply.

He lines himself up with my entrance, before slowly sliding himself in.

"Unnnh..." I moan, feeling the friction inside of me.

"You good?"

"Y-yeah..."

As he's moving in further, I suddenly feel an incredibly pleasurable sensation shoot through me, and my body spasms.

"OH GOD!" I cry out.

"Are...you okay? Should I stop?"

"On...on the contrary..." I pant.

"Heh. I found your prostate already."

He retracts slowly, then aims for the same spot again.

"Fuck yes," I moan, shuddering, as he repeats the pattern, moving back and forth in a steady rhythm several times. Each time he hits that sweet spot, I can feel pre-cum gathering around the tip of my length.

"You're...you're so tight...man..."

I can feel pressure building up in my cock.

"A-A-Alfred, I think I'm going to-" I bite my lip, trying to hold back - it'd be selfish to cum first.

"M-me too...on the count of three?"

"O-okay," I stutter.

"One," he begins, thrusting harder with the word.

"T-two," he continues, trembling with the effort of holding back. He thrusts again, harder. I can barely hear him out of sheer, mind-numbing pleasure.

"THREE!" he cries out, and suddenly, it feels hot and sticky down there. I release my own load as well, with Alfred's name on my lips.

I ride out the orgasm, trying to intensify it by replicating Alfred's rhythm.

My hazy vision gradually refocuses. Alfred collapses on top of me, a dopey post-orgasm grin on his face.

"Oi, you're rather heavy," I mutter, weakly attempting to push him off. Intense orgasms really sap your strength, you know?

"Nn... Artie, that felt so good... you, you really ARE a virgin." He chuckles. "Were."

He rolls off of me, forgetting it was only a single bed, and falls onto the floor, not even appearing to be too bothered about it.

"How was it?" he asks, panting.

"It was..." I begin. With my mind clouded, it takes a while to find the right word. "Amazing."

"Glad you enjoyed it, Artie."

"What happened to Arthur?"

"He lost his virginity."

"And thus you revert to using that nickname?"

He sits up, cross-legged. "Should I call you Arthur all the time?"

"Just during sex," I reply after considering the matter. "It adds a bit more of...a romantic quality to it."

Alfred doesn't reply, staring at the wall instead. Without the distraction of talking to him, I become aware of a cooling, sticky mess dripping out of me.

"Uhhh...Alfred, how are we meant to clean up afterwards?"

"Simples, just throw the sheets in one of the washing machines."

"But what if someone sees me with them?"

"Well, they'll be jealous," he replies, pushing himself up onto his knees to rest his upper body on the edge of the bed, looking down at my face.

I roll my eyes. "Still as narcissistic as ever," I mutter.

"Nuh uh, they'll be jealous because I get to do it with you." He kisses my forehead.

"Pfft. Who's going to be jealous?"

"Me," cuts in a voice, "but I think this arrangement is perfectly fine."

Eyes wide with terror, we both turn to the source of the voice. Kiku peeks over the edge of his bed, a camera in his hands, aimed at us.

"Ne, look. I have some good pictures," he says, turning the camera to us. "I could make some hentai out of this," he continues in a casual tone, scrolling through the incriminating pictures, "I'm sure a lot of people would buy it!"

"What did I tell you?" Alfred remarks happily. "That's how sexy we are."

"HE TOOK PHOTOS OF US!" I scream.

"Send them to everyone," he says to Kiku. "Everyone deserves to see Artie naked."

"WHAT?!"

"Hai, I agree. I'll send them now."

I leap up from the bed and run over to him to grab the camera out of his hands; he speeds out of the door.

Which is open. Fuck. Did anyone else see us?

"Elizaveta, you got some good angles too, hai?"

"I sure did!" responds a cheery voice.

I slide out of the door.

"Give me those cameras!" I command.

"Well, well, what happened to propriety?" Elizaveta teases.

"Damn it," I mutter, realising my nudity.

She raises her camera and snaps a photo, so fast it's almost professional. I dive into my room, embarrassed, but not quickly enough. Slamming the door behind me, I turn to Alfred, who's still sitting on the floor with the cheesiest of grins.

"Don't say a word," I hiss, gathering my clothes from the floor, aware of two pairs of rapidly receding footsteps.

Several months later, I wake up on the morning of December 25th.

I didn't let Alfred engage in *such activities* with me again. Much.

I've rummaged through Kiku's belongings a few times, but I never found his camera in there. I'm still worried about who he's sent those pictures to; nobody's mentioned anything of them.

"Merry Christmas," sings Alfred cheerily.

"Merry Christmas, minna-san," Kiku adds.

"Merry Christmas to you too," I reply, sitting up groggily. Alfred grins childishly, and there's wrapping paper from his presents scattered everywhere.

Just like our clothes that one time... shut up, brain.

I get up, stumbling slightly out of bed. I catch sight of a pile of presents labelled "To Arthur".

The one lying on the top is shaped like a short book or a magazine, so I decide to open it first.

Tearing open the wrapping paper, I see a title in Japanese. Okay, one of Kiku's mangas, this should be interesting. I slide the manga out further and see someone who looks like me (my eyebrows aren't THAT thick, right?) and then one who looks like Alfred.

I remove the rest of the wrapping and look at the now fully exposed cover.

"WHAT THE-?"

...and that's the end! Hopefully you enjoyed this :)

It felt weird making Alfred older but I wanted to keep it legal, y'know?