Sugar addiction

Arthur panted. Breathes coming in quick and leaving much too soon for his liking. Someone breathing in time with him stood on the other side of the room, well just on the other side of the table… the table… that was Arthur's only defence.

On the other side of it, olive eyes stared straight at him, unmoving… determined. Tan hands gripped the table hard and clothes and hair alike stuck to the sweat coated skin. Arthur didn't want to look at the man, but taking his eyes off him for one second could be his downfall so… he watched the man's every movement… just like the man was doing to him.

"Arthur." The tone was like a soft melody coated in the richest of honeys and where Arthur enjoyed the sweet taste of honey in his tea every now and again, he dared not fall for such treats, after all too much sugar was bad for someone.

"Stop running away." It was a demand; a command… coated with such a sugary tone and such soft facial features that Arthur was almost positive he'd misheard what the brunette said, but those olive eyes were steeled over with such fiery passion that screamed of what the brunette was planning… and Arthur couldn't become a part of that… he couldn't!

"I'm not running away." Denial was best… Denial would give him a few moments to gather his wits… to find an escape route… or… or… something!

The brunette laughed. A laugh that revealed all of the brunette's white teeth. A laugh that Arthur was sure Alfred would claim was a villain's laugh. Olive eyes watched him as though they knew exactly what he was doing… exactly what he was thinking… and Arthur was pretty sure the brunette did know… and that sent shivers down his spine.

"Not running away?" The brunette questioned with a smile that was much more deadly to his usual one. "Not running away?" Arthur nodded, hoping… hoping… that somehow he would be left alone. "Not running away…" The brunette laughed, olive eyes not leaving his form. "All you do is run away from me, Arthur. That's ALL you do when I'm involved!"

The brunette leaned on the table trying to bring his self closer, though Arthur just leaned away, not letting the brunette get any closer. The brunette's smile turned harsh, when he laughed.

"Of course, not running away just pulling back. Refusing to let anyone get too close, or should I say refusing to let me get too close! A well planned retreat, just like all the wars we've been through! Always pulling away, just before I get my chance to catch you!" The brunette pulls one knee onto the table, slowly, purposely, letting Arthur see it, letting the blonde know he's making a move… allowing the blonde to take his step back.

"Stop it Arthur," he hears the growl from the brunette. "Stop running away, stop pulling back; stop retreating… Let me catch you."

Arthur laughs at that and finally looks into those olive eyes and wishes he didn't have to see every detail of what the brunette wants to do etched into them so clearly. He hates those olive eyes that show each and every emotion as brightly as a fire, he hates them so much.

"Let you catch me? Who let's anyone catch them?" He takes another step back as the brunette pushes his other leg onto the table. He needs to escape, but he's caught up in those eyes he hates so much and he's curious… he hates curiosity so much…

"Someone who's falling," the brunette grins and Arthur's pretty sure he's been dying saying to say that all evening.

"Well I hate to break it to you, but I'm not falling," Arthur glares as he realises there's not any more room to move back, he has his cupboard with all the precious china in behind him and the brunette looked ready to pounce him and he can't risk losing any of that, and the smug bastard in front of him knows that as he casually and seductively prowls towards him.

"I could make you fall," the brunette says, letting his legs fall gently over the edge of the table a few steps away from him.

"I'd rather cling to the edge than let you catch me," the brunette laughs, smile genuinely amused for the first time that evening.

"I know you would," another step towards him. "That's why I'd make sure you fall where there's no edges." Another step. "So you can't cling onto anything but me." Another. "And so there's no way for you to climb back up."

"Oh and where would this magical place where you can fall with nothing to fall off of exist?" And Arthur's trying to blend into the wall.

"Well I guess you could fall from heaven for me," the brunette grins and brings his hand up and brushes it lightly against Arthur's cheek; tilts the blonde head up so they're looking at each other completely.

The brunette brings their faces closer; glides his nose slowly against the blonde's while he brings their lips closer.

"What about Francis!" The brunette blinks and looks at the blonde with a raised brow at the sudden outburst.

"What about Francis?" He questions.

"We're… we're… dating and you know it!" The blonde stutters and looks to the side, he doesn't like those eyes and he doesn't want to watch them as they gave him that look… the brunette didn't know what he was thinking… he didn't.

"Now you're just clinging onto whatever excuses you can find," he hears the voice whispered into his ear and shivers. "And we already decided that you're freefalling with nothing to cling onto."

"But… but it's true… and… and… you decided that not me!" And he won't turn to look at the brunette and he will ignore the feeling of the brunette's lips ghosting around the flesh of his ear.

"You're clinging desperately onto excuses, Arthur." And he feels those lips move to the space just under his ear and he bites his lip, he can't moan for this man, but the brunette just lets his lips rest there, not moving, but he can feel the man's smile. "Just fall."

"It's not an excuse."

"It is an excuse, Arthur," and those lips move slightly and kiss his skin gently all the while calmly explaining what Arthur already knows. "You and Francis are dating… if we can call a rather open relationship dating." He stops his kissing and just continues to talk, lips moving purposely against his flesh. "And Gilbert did tell me of yours and his escapees from the other week and I'm pretty sure you didn't use such lame excuses with him back then."

"I was drunk…"

"Were you drunk when you and Francis decided your relationship would only work if it was an open one?"

And before Arthur can even think of something intelligent to say to that, those lips bring pressure to his neck and he's suddenly being sucked on and bit; that little spot is being abused. He groans as he feels that smirk and bites his lips.

He won't give in. He can't give in.

"Just fall Arthur."

"I'm not falling!" He growls, he can't give in.

And he feels teeth bite into his flesh too hard and he yelps in pain. The brunette pulls back and makes Arthur look at him again. Olive eyes ensnaring his emerald ones.

"If you really don't want to fall, then stop all this dancing around!" The brunette growls, bringing his face closer once again.

"Dancing around…?" The blonde blinks, wondering what exact the brunette was going on about.

The brunette just chuckles under his breath lightly and pulls away. He puts a hand across his face and shakes his head.

"If I knew the little kid that I taught to dance all those centuries ago was going to use what I taught him to evade me all the time…" The brunette takes the hand from his face and once again captures those emerald eyes with his olive ones that are glimmering with unshed tears.

"Well I wouldn't have taught you to dance if I knew you would do that."

And the brunette captures his hand and tugs him along with him, the blonde's body keeping up, but his mind miles behind.

"What… where are we going!" And as the question (demand) leaves his lips they've already reached the door of his room and the brunette's dragged him in and pushed him onto his bed. His legs dangling over the edge; the brunette has one knee on either side.

"I want you to stop retreating Arthur." The brunette's face leans in too close to his. "I want you to fall." Tan fingers wrap their selves into blonde locks. "And I want you to dance with me, not around me, with me." His other arm rests gently beside his face. "I won't force you… I'd never force you, but I know you would never admit to what you want even under torture, so I'm going to give us both a chance here."

Olive eyes trap emerald ones once again; Arthur has to question whether emerald was actually a stronger colour than olive.

"I'm going to kiss you Arthur." A thumb rests gently against his lips as he looks up at the brunette. "Long and hard and whatever you say after that I will take to heart. Whether you kiss back or not… or even if you struggle… well that just doesn't matter… but whatever you say afterwards, if you tell me you hate me, well I'll leave you alone, but if say something that even suggests you don't hate me as much as you have me believe…"

The brunette smiles and pulls in close. His thumb gently stroking his bottom lip before pulling back and letting lips take its place.

"Well then you'll have to deal with me forever."

And the brunette's lips are smashed against his. His smooth lips devouring his and he glides his tongue across, asking… begging for entrance and Arthur finds his self opening his lips and letting the brunette in.

It will be their last kiss. He tells his self, so he might as well let the brunette have some fun as well. It will be their last…

And he moans as their tongues dance together like they always found their selves doing when the two were in a room alone. And he arches up wanting more as he finds the brunette's words not the only thing dripping with honey, somehow, the brunette tastes sweeter than those words.

And he wants more of them; he doesn't want this to their last kiss… not yet...

And… and…

He feels the brunette's lips slowly slipping from his; he finds that his hands had somehow found their selves into those curly locks and he finds that the world's dark from his eyes being shut. And he opens them slowly and looks into those olive eyes that he hates so much and he practically feels the hope radiating out of them.

And there's silence for a second, as he tries to breath and just as he feels the brunette giving up, he can't stop his hand tugging at the brunette's hair.

"Please more… Antonio…" He moans.

And he hates the way that those olive eyes light up, and he hates the way that Antonio holds him so carefully as though he loves him and he generally hates Antonio… the Spaniard that constantly stops anything he attempts to do… But most of all he hates his self for wanting this to continue, for wanting to be held by the Spaniard and for liking those ever so addicting sugar coated kisses…

A/N: So, I've decided since I didn't have any of my favourite OTP fictions up, I'd have a go at a one-shot (and not a long story cause I have other stories that need to be finished before then). Hope it's ok, I think it's really random, but it was fun writing it!

Thank you to any people who decide to read, review, fav this in the future!

PS. The name's really random isn't it?