Sorry I haven't updated in a while, school & hockey have been crazy.
Also: This chapter does contain Explicit content. That means Rape. And I don't want to traumatize anyone who accidentally stumbles across this fic looking for fluff. (Although there is fluff at the end) And please remember, this was based off of a prompt on the kink meme, so don't be too upset about the sex scene. Really, if a story's rated M and is categorized as romance, it really shouldn't come as a surprise.

Anyway, enjoy!

Arthur knew Alfred was a bad mood when he stormed into the kitchen, the Saturday morning calm ruined by his angry stomping. The American angrily sliced himself a piece of bread, refusing to look anywhere but the counter as he hurriedly bit at the slice, looking more like an axe murderer than a businessman. A loud groan echoed through the kitchen as the businessman plodded over to the kitchen table, dragging a chair out from underneath before changing his mind and flopping tiredly onto the counter, glaring at the floor tiles. Arthur quirked an eyebrow, placing the kettle on the stove before hesitantly approaching the American.

"Are you alright Alfred?"

"Peachy."

Arthur sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with the stubborn American. He turned back to the kettle, plucking it from the stove as it began to whistle shrilly. He hesitantly looked to Alfred, silently asking permission to use some of his tea. Even after three weeks of living together, the Brit was unsure of using anything but the basic necessities. Alfred nodded distractedly, waving his arm tiredly in the direction of his spice rack before slamming his head down against the mahogany table, a pained groan escaping his lips as he did so. Arthur gave him another worried look before making them both tea –English breakfast, of course- and sitting down across from him. For a while, neither spoke. Arthur sipped at his tea, observing the American above the delicate porcelain rim. Occasionally he nudged Alfred's cup, indicating that he should drink. The businessman would take a small sip, not bothering to hide the grimace as the bitter liquid sloshed down his throat, and return to his melancholy silence.

Finally, Arthur broke the silence. "Er, Alfred?"

The American looked up, and Arthur noticed a red tinge around his eyes. Alfred averted his gaze once more, his mouth twisting into a soft frown. "What?"

"Are you alright? You seem quite distressed…"

"I'm fine." The businessman stared into the milky depths of his tea, resolutely willing himself to remain calm. "It's just- forget it."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, pressing forward. "No, tell me. Please?"

Alfred sighed, pulling himself up to face the Briton properly before speaking. "A few associates are coming over today to discuss a new proposition with one of my companies." He paused before continuing, his eyes flicking to the floor before settling back on Arthur's anxious face. "T-That's not all. Usually, if a partner has a slave, they, well, offer them up as… entertainment."

Arthur choked on his tea, emerald eyes widening in panic as Alfred continued; now refusing to meet the Brit's eyes.

"A-And I don't know how I'm going to get out of this. I can't just hide you; tons of people saw me at the auction. And it's bad taste if I don't share. You know how the attitude is here, slaves aren't treated as people. And I'm not saying it's right, but the deal is really important and I can't just throw it away. What would people think? If I were to cancel they'd think I was hiding something, and they'd shun me if I didn't let them near you, and I'm lost and I just don't know what to do and…I'm sorry Arthur."

Arthur swallowed heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't safe. He would never be safe. Even Alfred, who had taken care of him for the last three weeks without making any move to touch him, was going to abandon him. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, hating the weakness in his voice as he drew in a shaky breath before suddenly standing, backing away from the table at the resigned look in Alfred's eyes. "No. Get away from me!"

Alfred stood, withdrawing a horribly familiar object from his suit pocket. His face was perfectly blank, save for his eyes, which were shining with a sad determination as he fingered the black leather. Arthur's stomach heaved as the black leather glinted dauntingly in the pale morning light. Arthur ran, sprinting toward the door and fumbling with the lock. The American easily caught up, spinning him around until his chest was pressed flat against the wall and his arms were pinned painfully behind his back with one hand. The American brushed sandy hair away from the nape of Arthur's neck, trailing his fingers along the pale skin. He loosened his grip enough so that the Brit's arms no loner ached, whispering soft reassurances in his ear. Arthur growled, twisting his head away. Too fucking gentle, you bastard. Black leather slid across fragile skin, tightening jut enough to provide some pressure against his throat. The click of a lock sealed his fate.

Alfred released the Briton's arms, and Arthur sank gratefully to the floor. The American quickly sat down beside him, carding his fingers through Arthur's sandy hair. For a while, neither of them spoke. Arthur fixed his gaze on the opposite wall, trying to ignore the worried stares of the American sitting next to him. Alfred continued to soothe the angry man, somehow praying that he would somehow understand.

"I'm sorry." Alfred started contritely at his feet. "I wish there was some other way."

Arthur started at the wall for a while longer. Finally, he spoke. "When are they coming?" His voice was raspy in his ears.

"This evening. I've already got dinner arranged, so you don't have to do any work."

"And this meeting means a lot to you?"

"Yes… I need to establish myself amongst these people, Arthur. Otherwise they'll walk all over me. It's really rare that someone like me gets a private sitting with people of their stature. This deal could make or break my company, and I can't just give up my dreams. If there was any other way…" His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes, his bottom lip quivering slightly as he waited for Arthur's response.

"Fine. What are they going to do to me?"

Alfred jerked his head up, incredulous blue eyes widening as he saw the determined look on Arthur's face. He was surprised to hear the steely edge in the Briton's voice. He had been very docile since his branding, complying with Alfred's wishes and rarely criticizing his actions, speaking up only when necessary. Only over the last week had he become comfortable enough to hold lengthy conversations with the American. Still, even these were very stinted and limited to narrow subjects. Arthur would go mysteriously silent at any mention of his past, or his enslavement. Of course, this only made Alfred more curious, but he had done his best to comply with the Brit's unspoken wishes and refrained from asking anything too specific about wither of the topics.

He sighed, deciding that if nothing else, the Briton deserved an explanation. "Well, the meeting usually starts with a light snack before dinner. There's a bit of wine, maybe some cheese or an expensive appetizer, like shrimp. The slave usually carries it in and serves people, like a butler. The only catch is that they're usually naked." Seeing Arthur's face darken, he hastily added, "but don't worry, not all servers follow this procedure. Some are allowed to stay clothed until after the main course, so we don't have to worry about that. The only catch is that your collar must be visible."

Arthur nodded, relieved that his torture would be held off for a few more measly hours.

"But after dinner, when we're sealing the deal, well, that's where you come in. If the deal goes through, the slave is meant to help the members of the agreement 'celebrate'…"

Arthur translated. "So they fuck me."

Alfred winced. "Not always. Well, not really. Sometimes they just stick to… using…your mouth, but I can't promise that. It's considered bad taste if you deny one of your business partners the choice. And… they're not the only ones expected to use you. I'm a partner too." He looked to the floor, hating the stunned silence that followed his speech.

Arthur's mind reeled. Alfred was going to fuck him. Well, maybe not completely. He guessed the American would do no more than what was required, but the idea still hurt. And yet, he understood on some level. Alfred was the energetic upstart, the little guy that large corporations always tried to stomp on. He was wealthy, but he could easily make more if he went through with a few good deals. He couldn't be expected to give up on his dreams just because of a slave he had bought on a whim.

This reasoning didn't stop Alfred's decision from cutting at his heart. He had trusted the American, and he was betrayed. Alfred had said he would be safe. He had lied. And yet, he hadn't been touched in the last three weeks. He had been fed and cared for, and given clothes. He had been allowed out of the house to accompany Alfred on various errands, and he had been treated as more of a friend than a slave. Really, things were better at Alfred's than they would be anywhere else. If he was still at the auction house, he would probably get raped multiple times a day. Now he was almost free, and treated better than many of Boston's legal citizens. He was staying with a prestigious businessman, for goodness sake. He wasn't exactly hard done by. But it certainly felt that way.

"I'll do it. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

The words surprised him, jumping out of his mouth without much thought. Arthur's eyes widened, surprised at his own decision. However, when he looked to Alfred, his resolve only strengthened. The businessman was giving him one of his sad little smiles; unshed tears threatening to fall from the corners of his piercing blue eyes.

"Arthur…"

"It's alright. I don't really have a choice anyway, and you've been very kind to be these past few weeks. It's the least I can do to repay you."

Alfred smiled a bit wider, wrapping his arms around the Briton and pulling him flush against his chest. "Don't worry Arthur, I won't let any of them hurt you."

Arthur hugged him back, burying his face in the American's shoulder. "I know."

They lay on the floor together, watching small birds fly past the sunlit kitchen window, their carefree songs clashing beautifully with the morose atmosphere inside the delicate pane of glass.

After half an hour of this, Alfred spoke up. "Thank you."

Arthur mumbled a quiet 'no problem', choking out a sarcastic laugh before meeting Alfred's eyes.

"I'm not going to shove you in there without any prior experience. Come on, we'd better get up. I'll teach you the proper serving procedure and find you something nice to wear, and then we can work on your presentation."

Arthur stood, ignoring the cramped feeling spreading through his legs from lying on the floor for so long.

Alfred suddenly grabbed his face, forcing the Brit to look into his determined blue eyes. "Don't worry Arthur, you're not alone in this. I got you into this mess and I'll do everything I can to help you out of it. So don't be scared, ok? I'll protect you."

Arthur nodded. He could only hope that Alfred was right.

Arthur winced as the blonde man, Ludwig, snapped his fingers, signaling that he wanted more wine. He hurried over to where he sat, passing the other four members of the meeting without a glance. The German man was stretched out like a large jungle cat in an armchair, calmly leading the negotiations. He didn't bother to look at the Brit, snatching his glass when it was filled and continuing with his speech. Arthur growled slightly at his rude attitude, but quickly backed down after a startled look from one of the other partners. Catching Alfred's eye, Arthur gave a small smile. He was alright. He was fine. He could do this. Even if the man had already made several snide comments about his British heritage and hinted at what his intentions were for later that evening. The meeting was going well, and Arthur was happy to see that Alfred was holding his own, clearly stating his demands and refusing to back down to Ludwig's threats. Arthur refilled Ludwig's wineglass without making eye contact, slinking quietly back to the farthest corner of the room to wait until he was summoned again. Inwardly he was panicking, glancing anxiously at the clock while trying to ignore the increasingly common hungry stares directed his way. They still had to make it through dinner. He was still safe, for the time being.

They finally reached a compromise over dinner. The respective parties shook hands, congratulating each other on the progress they had made before returning to the living room in wait of their nightly entertainment. Alfred had pulled Arthur aside as soon as the deal was assured, leading him to the kitchen and going over the procedure for the night that he was to follow. He was to present himself to the gathered audience naked when they were settled in the living room. He was not allowed to fight back, regardless of what the men did to him. Arthur had rolled his eyes at the command. As if he had a chance against four of them anyway. Besides, he would be put to death if he attacked anyone. Slaves had no rights. He was quite literally, fucked. Alfred gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before returning to the living room, tonelessly laughing at the jokes of his partners.

Finally, Arthur walked in. The room immediately quieted, it's many occupants waiting until the Brit was on his knees in the center of the room. His eyes were trained firmly on the ground. Gradually, the small talk resumed. The men stood and sauntered over to Arthur, who remained unmoving on the floor. Only Alfred could see the faint shiver in his shoulders as Ludwig trailed his fingers to the cleft of his ass, murmuring snidely about what a slut he was.

Soon the others joined in. A timid looking Asian man moved in front of Arthur's face, prodding at his lips with his semi-erect member. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth, licking lightly at this tip before taking more of it in, inwardly grimacing at the taste. Another set of hands began to fondle his testicles, rolling them appraisingly. Arthur shut his eyes, gasping quietly at the sensation. A slap to his face reminded him of his place. He opened his eyes again and resumed sucking on the Asian man's cock, determined to make him cum as quickly as possible. It would be better that way. The sooner they came, the sooner they would leave, and he could be alone again.

A cold, slippery hardness pressed against his ass, rubbing gently against his small pucker, and he couldn't stifle the whimper that escaped around the cock in his mouth. Not there, not again. Hands were running all over his body, fondling his cock, teasing his nipples, and he hated it. He hated how he leaned into their touches, how his body responded without his consent, how every time those hands did something wonderful, small pleading whimpers would escape, unbidden, from his throat. He didn't realize he was crying until a pair of soft hands trailed down his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He looked pleadingly to Alfred, wishing he would do something, anything. But Alfred seemed just as miserable as he was. His eyes held a desperate, lost look, and Arthur could feel the slight shiver of his hands against his face.

He let out a scream as Ludwig pushed into him. He could feel himself tearing at the sudden entry, and he clamped down hard on the thick shaft impaling him. Ludwig immediately began to move, not wasting any time. He forced himself in, reveling in the way Arthur screamed. He hadn't realized the Asian man's cock had fallen from his mouth until it was forced back in, deep into his throat. He choked and whined; his screams and gags only adding to the sensation the other man felt as he plundered his mouth. Soon, both men were coming, filling Arthur's ass and mouth respectively before tucking themselves back into their pants.

The cock in his ass was almost immediately replaced by another one, thrusting quickly into the tight heat much like Ludwig had. Arthur stole a quick glance behind him and saw that it was the tall albino who complained loudly all through dinner who was forcing himself into his unwilling body.

Everything from that pint onward was a haze of tears and pain. Arthur retreated to the recesses of his mind, trying his best to block out the pain of another cock scraping down his throat. He didn't even bother look at the owner this time. The albino was still thrusting into his ass and showed no signs of stopping. The scathing words in his ears faded to a dull buzz as he sought to remove himself from reality. He was brought back to the present when they finally finished, coming into his weakened body before pulling out. Arthur lay on the floor, exhausted. A sharp kick to the ribs reminded him that there was still one person who had not come yet. Alfred.

The American pumped his cock a few times before positioning it near Arthur's head. Alfred looked absolutely miserable, his face waxy and pale as he forced himself to go through with the deed. Arthur seemed to sense his distress. For an unknown reason, he didn't like to see the American unhappy, so he pulled himself to his knees once more and began to lick tenderly at the head, going through same motions as he had with so many others. He liked to think that he was a little more tender than he had been with the others, but he knew that it probably wasn't the case. It would take more than a few weeks of kindness to get him to trust the American implicitly. Alfred sighed and moaned, thrusting gently into his mouth but refusing to force himself on the prostrate man below him. Arthur almost smiled, grateful to the American for his kind actions. His throat already ached, as did his rear, and he could feel an unpleasant dripping down his thighs. He didn't know whether it was semen of blood.

Suddenly he gasped, twisting away as multiple hands began running down his body. The other men were touching him now, forcing him to take pleasure in what he was doing. And although he tried his best to resist, he could soon feel himself reacting to their touches. He was surprised at first, when the harsh slaps and bites he was accustomed to never happened. Then someone grabbed hold of his cock and began to pull in sure, steady tugs, and he became too lost in the sensation to care. He was vaguely aware of Alfred's cock in his mouth, and on impulse he began to speed up, swirling his tongue around the slit and bringing his hands up to knead at the American's balls. He was expecting the sudden shudder that passed through Alfred's body, and the warm fluid that filled his mouth. He dutifully swallowed before collapsing to the floor once more, the steady hands following his every movement. Someone rolled him onto his back and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see what they were doing to him. He felt familiar fingers threading through his hair as the other men resumed their ministrations with a newfound enthusiasm. He felt a single finger press against his entrance before slipping inside, twisting and pumping amidst the mixture of cum until it brushed against that special spot that made Arthur see stars. He bucked, a small keening noise escaping his lips as the finger continued to knead and massage that area. He felt himself coming closer and closer to the edge, finally toppling over with a small scream. As he came down from his high, he noticed that the hands had left his body. As the sound of footsteps gradually faded, Arthur began to relax, content to lie on the floor and recover for as long as they would let him.

Alfred turned to lead his guests to the door, returning to the living room a few minutes later when they had all left in their respective carriages. He lifted Arthur's limp form from the ground, carrying him to the bathroom where he stripped them both before running a hot bath. Arthur murmured tiredly in his embrace, sighing contentedly as the warm water soothed his aching muscles. Alfred let him rest against his chest as he rubbed comforting circles in his back.

They lay together for a long time, both lost in their own thoughts. The room was still, save for Alfred's gentle movements as he added more hot water to the tub when it began to cool.

Arthur didn't blame the American. Not really, anyway. And it hadn't been as bad is he thought it would be. He had thought that he would be horrified, scared and weak as his tormentors forced themselves on him again. However, this wasn't the case. Though he hadn't been exactly willing, and the men hadn't done anything to prepare him, these details were nothing new. What was new however, was the way they had acted while using him. Everything was crisp and precise. They would take pleasure and leave, offering neither praise nor criticism. They hadn't shown any interest in pleasing him throughout the affair, save for the final bits at then end. Arthur suspected that they had pleasured him more to ease Alfred's guilt than his own suffering. Funnily, it had worked out the opposite. The pleasure made it easier to forget, masking his agony. And although Alfred hadn't hurt him, he must still have felt intense guilt at what had happened. That would explain the absolute misery carved into his face as he first undid his pants. He supposed that must have been what made the difference, what made this incident different from the countless others that he had endured. Alfred hadn't wanted to take advantage of him. The American had looked so sorry for what he had done, and it melted something inside of Arthur's chest. Coming back to the present, Arthur snuggled closer, enjoying Alfred's tender massage as the warm water sloshed gently around them.

He turned to smile wanly at Alfred, his face falling as he noticed the crestfallen look on the businessman's face. "Oi, come off it," he murmured gently, wrapping his own arms around the businessman's neck. "It's not your fault."

Alfred met his gaze sadly. "It is. I could have stopped them. I could have done something. I don't know what, but there must have been a better way."

"It was for the best," Arthur replied, hating the misery that settled in the American's eyes.

"I could have stopped them."

"You would have lost their support."

"I would have managed without them anyway."

"You were following you dreams."

"And because of that, you got hurt."

"I'll be fine in a few days. It's nothing I'm not used to."

"I couldn't save you."

And then Alfred had buried his head in Arthur's shoulder. Arthur stroked his hair, not understanding the American's refusal to give up on him. He whispered reassurances in the businessman's ear, that everything was going to be alright; that he was fine, and that he really shouldn't worry so much because he would gladly do it again if it meant that Alfred would be happy.

He started, suddenly panicking as he realized his words. He would do it again. He would put himself through hell for a stranger who had bought him at an auction only three weeks previously. And he meant it. What was it about Alfred that made him want to believe his crazy ramblings? He didn't get a chance to ponder the thought any longer, as Alfred chose that moment to stop his sobbing in favour of clutching Arthur's hand tightly.

Alfred pulled his head away from Arthur's shoulder, looking disbelievingly into Arthur's face. "You can't mean that. I, I-"

"I do, Alfred."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but for some reason I can't bear the thought of you upset because of me… because of anyone, actually. I want to protect you like you protect me."

He blushed at the words, ducking his head and staring absently at Alfred's toes.

"Arthur…" Alfred sounded so contrite, so anxious, and yet so happy and loving that he couldn't help but turn around, his own smile forming at the sight of the American's face. He was smiling gently now, his eyes tender and full of something Arthur couldn't place. He felt a pleasant warmth spread through his chest as he leaned forward, pressing himself into Alfred's welcoming arms.

And then Alfred kissed him.

Well that's possibly the most stereotypical chapter ending imaginable. Don't shoot me, I'm tired! Anyway, tell me what you think (Ie, review or message, because me saying 'I appreciate feedback' is code for REVIEW! *panting uncontrollably*)

So have an awesome March break! I'll probably have more time to write now, so you won't have to wait a month for an update! (Insert sarcastic applause here)

-Meg