Arrested in Love: UsUk Prisoner AU

26: Cigs and Iron

The lights of the house were dimmed but one, the dining room light, illuminating the tan envelopes sprawled upon the table.

Both men reviewed each and every word, eyes sore and tired behind glass-framed spectacles, not daring to look away as the Brit sipped at his three AM tea.

"Two shots fired at the abdominals, one lodging in the upper left quadricep of the male, the other burying into [his] now broken Ulna to the Radius. Only fragments are discovered upon the scene." Alfred read off the report, setting his narrower framed glasses to the side to understand.

"In my thigh they removed one, and the other, only found in pieces, is found in my wrist which is what broke it." Alfred gathered, jotting it down in his legal pad. Arthur slowly nodded his head, reading newspaper clippings.

"Correct. But there was a third bullet. So read on." Arthur coaxed, already too deep into this to stop. He was well aware of his rather nonexistent sleep schedule by now.

"The bullets belonged to a Ruger LC9, a nine millimeter-" He read before being cut off by Arthur, who immediately went to his cabinet, pulling out the same gun, setting it onto the table.

"A police issued gun. All of us on our precinct had them. So it wouldn't narrow him down." Arthur thought out loud, both of them writing it into their notes.

"Who were all in your precinct?" Alfred asked. "Do you remember names, how many there were-? Anything?"

"There were easily sixteen of us in that area. I only remember Francis. He was the only one I remained by." Arthur shrugged, pushing another document towards Arthur. "But where did that third bullet go?"

"Somewhere within the hypodermis layer of skin in my abdomen. There isn't much to it." Alfred shrugged, feeling the pain just coursing through him once more, causing a visible shutter. Arthur frowned and set the papers aside, using paper clips to bind them back together.

Alfred tilted his head, unsure as to why Arthur was cleaning up. This had become an obsession for Alfred. This case was his absolute obsession. Arthur knew it was hurting Alfred to constantly relive the pain and suffering but Alfred just couldn't stop.

"Alfred, Love, let's go to bed." Arthur whispered, slowly getting out of his chair, tucking it into the table. "The sun is starting to crest."

Alfred wiped his tired eyes, staring at the table. "You go on without me. I'll be there soon." He waved his lover off, causing the Brit to grit his teeth.

"Alfred, please. It's so late, or well, early. I have work tomorrow and you need to watch the girls. You can't be sleeping all day." Arthur sighed, rubbing Alfred's shoulder, trying to coax him into bed.

"I'm coming." Alfred groaned, rolling his eyes as he got out of his chair, pushing it in as well.

"Not yet. If you get to bed quicker, that is." Arthur tried to bargain with a wink, though he somewhat knew he had work in a couple hours and couldn't handle being fucked into the mattress.
But he could in fact fuck Alfred into the mattress..

"Are you trying to coax me into bed with sex?" Alfred asked, leaning against the table. Arthur was practically drooling in his mind at the thought of a submissive Alfred.
And he had his handcuffs..

"What-? Oh, yes. Yes I am." He nodded, reaching out to grab Alfred's hand. "I can see that it's working?"

Alfred slowly nodded. "Damn you're definitely right. And from your look I'm not getting it easy?"

Arthur shook his head widely. "No. No you're not."

***

Arthur had picked up a shift at the jail, stretching out his arms before placing them behind his neck, yawning. He was going to take a nap before he got a can thrown at his head, causing him to hiss.

"Who the fuck. Why the fuck." He muttered to himself, sipping from his coffee before standing, marching over to the cells. "Who was it?" He asked sternly, arms crossed. "I work in the prison, this is pussy-work. I'll whip you like prison bitches."

There was a quiet chuckle, Arthur noticing the outline of a man reading the daily news.
"Well was it you?" Arthur asked with a stomp of his foot. "You have no bloody idea what I'm capable of." Arthur said with a growl following.

"Sure I do." The voice spoke back, looking over at where Arthur was.
"Ah, of course." Arthur muttered, shaking his head. "Good morning Francis."

Francis smiled, walking over to the iron bars containing him. He had a lot of stubble and his eyes were a crazed and deep purple. Orange jumpsuits still suited him though, Francis even styling it like a wanker.

"Good morning Amour. How are we doing today?"
Arthur really didn't want to have any conversation with Francis. At all. Ever.

"Fantastic. So you really did it, didn't you?" Arthur crossed his arms, shaking his head. The conversation wasn't ending he guessed.

"Did what?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow before humming with s small 'ah.' "Alfred.. Yes, that was all me."

Arthur could have been seething. Just knowing the person who shot his lover was a couple feet in front of him.

"I grabbed the gun. I walked to the courthouse, with the gun. I pulled out, the gun. And I shot that American idiot with the gun. Three times, I want to say." Francis rambled, nodding his head. "And only now did they catch me. And guess what! I might have confessed to you, but you can't do anything about it. No video, no voice, nothing. Useless information if I have anything to say about it."

Arthur stepped back, shaking his head. "You have a baby. You have a wife. You had a family and you threw it all away to ruin my life. Why? Why would you go through all of this? You're going to be going to prison Francis!"

Francis slowly nodded, sitting on his bed once more, retreating back to the shadows of his cell. "I know. Strange, right?"

Arthur sighed heavily, realizing the Francis he knew was far gone. He wouldn't find that part of him again. The smart, loving, and kind soul. Long gone. It hurt a bit, truthfully. He didn't want to see this side of Francis. Not anymore.

Arthur went back to the desk, now completely unfocused. He cursed as he dropped coffee onto his lap, growling. "This is fucking bullshit." The Brit muttered, shaking his head. "I'm so tired." He added, standing up. "I need to clock out. I need to go home."

***

Whimpers fulled the house, as Arthur was per usual, fucked into the mattress. He took the rest of the day off and needed a break while the kids were all at school.

Alfred didn't understand how it happened. Arthur just came home, shirt falling off of him, clutching a bottle tight in his hand, drunk off his ass.

Alfred groaned, gripping onto his hips tightly, enjoying the feeling of Arthur bruising. Enjoying the sight more.

And soon it was all over, Arthur passed out asleep as Alfred went back to working on the house, cleaning up the whole house. Alfred enjoyed getting a good fuck out but Alfred didn't understand what had happened. He'd just have to wait for Arthur to wake up.