USUK/UKUS One Shots

Enemy Territory- Part 1 (Usuk Lemon, Revolutionary War)

A/N: This is an excerpt from a fanfiction I'm working on, except that the scene in that book ends right before the smut. But I thought, hey, why don't I write the sex scene and put it in my one-shot book? So I did. Anyway. Yeah. If you like it and want to be a beta-reader, message me!

Warnings: Strong language, sexual content

Summary: Alfred sneaks into the British camp late at night, desperate to see Arthur again. Once there, they share an exchange that Washington and Cornwallis likely wouldn't approve of during wartime...

Word count: 2,038

Estimated read time: 11 minutes

Alfred paced the length of his tent. It was really getting to him- not having Arthur around. Without him there to correct his grammar and scold him for leaving his shoes in the doorway, it was easy to forget about all the reasons living with him was so difficult and become enraptured with him all over again.

For days, all he'd been seeing were green eyes, soft blond hair, and his smile in everything. It was driving him crazy.

His pacing gained speed. He wanted Arthur- no, he needed Arthur.

But Arthur wasn't there.

His pacing stopped and he made a decision.

It was almost like he was in a daze as he pulled on his coat and crept out of the camp. It was almost like he wasn't in control of himself when he mounted a horse and took off toward the nearby British camp. And it was almost like he had lost his mind when he tied his horse to a tree, slipped past the sentinels, and searched the British camp for Arthur's tent.

Finding it wasn't hard. It was one of the nicest and largest ones with a guard stationed outside and Arthur's spare pair of boots in the grass beside the doorway.

He approached the tent boldly. The only soldiers out were huddled around a fire further away, far enough that the light couldn't reach him, aside from one outside the general's tent on the other side of the camp and the one guarding Arthur.

When he saw his outline, the soldier raised his musket. "Oy, you! Show yourself!"

Alfred was too far for the soldier to identify the color of his coat in the darkness. With a flawless impersonation of a British accent, he faked confusion. "What're you going on about?"

He lowered his gun. "No one's allowed this close to Mr. Kirkland's tent. You know the rules. Go back to the fire with the others."

"I want to speak with Mr. Kirkland, if you don't mind," Alfred replied. "It's about one of the horses."

"Go talk to a stableboy. They're in charge of them."

Alfred scoffed and drew on his repertoire of British words he had once used before his own culture developed. "As if those blokes have the foggiest idea what they're doing. Please? It's important."

"Sorry, no can do."

Guess they were doing this the hard way.

Alfred marched up and pushed past the soldier into the tent.

Arthur was there, writing something down at a desk. He looked up, startled, as the soldier came in after Alfred.

"I'm sorry, sir, I tried to-"

"It's alright. Leave us."

The soldier looked between them uneasily, especially now that he could see the color of Alfred's coat, but nodded, stepping back out and assuming Alfred was a spy coming back to report. The tent's flap fell shut, leaving them alone.