Hey guys! I know nobody really reads my stories, but oh well...and for those who read them...sorry. I'm just type of person that has head filled with ideas, so when I decide one of them is good enough, I have to at least begin to write it before I forget. So that's basically the reason why I have so many unfinished stories. The other reason is that BLOODY FUCKIN' SCHOOL is keeping me really really really busy. I hate it, ghhh!

Well, this is gonna be multichaptered story, but I have no idea how many chapters. Probably 8-15...dunno, really.

If you like it, leave a review.

If not, leave a review.

Just leave it, I like to read them! :D

No pressure though...

yesssss...pressssuureee...my preciousssss...

Was long and dark December

From the rooftops I remember

There was snow

White snow

It was long and dark December 2014. Whole city was bathing in the darkness of winter twilight, and only sources of electronic light were the streetlights, giving a kind of soft look to all the buildings and snow around. It looked almost peaceful.

Young soldier entered the shop. He looked around carefully, his baby blue eyes, scanning his surroundings for a brief moment before he let go of a gun set on his thigh. He couldn't be older than eighteen or nineteen, yet he was there, in London, tall and muscular, soldier of the US ARMY. Times were tough, everyone kept saying. With the war spreading everywhere as quickly as it did.

Soldier look around a shop once again. It was quiet, a pool of light and warm place in the endless snow outside. It didn't feel friendly though.

''One pack of cigarettes.'' He said, giving the saleslady just a tiny, yet shining smile. Of course, who'd smile openly in those times, with WW3 practically breathing on their neck. Saleslady, mid-aged woman hadn't returned his smile and just frowned.

''I'm not going to sell anything to scum like you. '' she replied harshly. Soldier just chuckled and ran hand through his blonde locks.

''It's not for me, it's for my captain. We're in charge of this district.'' He explained, but the woman just deepened her frown.

'' Then there's no way I'd sell you anything for that bastard. Go away.'' Her voice was cold and unpleasant. Young man just apologetically smiled and waved his hands in front of him.

''Hey, no offense ma'am.''

'' Go away you American rubbish!'' she hissed at him. Soldier looked actually hurt this time, as he opened his mouth for defending himself.

''Ma'am, just so you know, we're here to protect you!'' he said, but she gave him such an ugly glare that he shut his mouth. He sighed and then wanted to leave into the cold night again, when suddenly another person spoke.

''One pack of fags for me.''

That man had been there the whole time, quietly looking over magazines in the corner of the room. Now he came to the saleslady, pulled out money and she gave him incredible look, but she did give him a pack of cigarettes in return. Man smirked and walked over to the soldier, handing him the pack.

''Take this.''

Soldier was so surprised that he ignored complains of the lady and just thankfully smiled at the man, who, however did not return his smile, as he furrowed his big eyebrows and left the shop, leaving soldier and saleslady alone. Young man, still surprised by sudden generosity of a man just stood there, watching him leave through the showcase.

''Get out!'' the woman was the first one to speak, and soldier gave her one confused look before heading out to the night. Suddenly, not knowing why, he noticed himself running after that man.

''Hey, you dude, stop!'' he yelled. The man turned around with disapproving look and stopped walking.

''What?''

Soldier smiled at him, noticing really green eyes under that bushy brow, the color of the orbs noticeable even in the dark. The man had also blonde hair, but lighter than his. He was smaller, thinner. He wasn't a soldier, but he seemed to be a little bit older.

''Thanks for the cigarettes. She was being such a bitch.''

Man raised his eyebrows.

''And you're surprised? Nobody likes you, soldiers. Nobody wants you here on our soil.''

''Yet you helped me.''

Man, clearly British, judging by his thick accent, didn't remove the frown he had from earlier.

''Well, I am a proper gentleman.''

''Alfred.''

British man blinked.

''I beg your pardon?''

Soldier smiled and stretched a hand in front of him.

''My name is Alfred. Yours?''

Other man just stared at his hand for a while before shaking with it.

''Arthur Kirkland.''

Alfred smile as he let go of his hand. He put on his gloves and looked around carefully before turning back to Briton.

''So, Arthur…you're a local? 'cos I wan-''

''I'm busy. Excuse me.'' Arthur started to walk away.

''Hey I-''

''Excuse me!'' Kirkland said, hurrying away from soldier, leaving him standing there. It started to snow.

..-..

Alfred sighed and after a while headed back to their base. He walked slowly, enjoying the silence of a winter night, disturbed only by the sound of his own feet stepping on the street covered with snow. December. He vaguely remembered that Christmas was approaching. How long had he been there? Half a year? A year? He couldn't tell. He hated war, yet he signed up in the army. He wanted to save somebody, to help someone. His comrades were making fun of him for that, calling him 'a hero'. He sighed as he entered the building, their base and headed to the captain.

He found him exactly where he should have. In the office, legs on the table, drinking coffee from can, paperwork and maps and strategies listings shattered around that table. And he clearly waited for him as he raised his tired, yet blunt blue eyes to greet his subordinate. Alfred gave him a nod.

''Here you go cap.'' He threw him a pack of smokes. His captain, , smiled at him, unpacking it.

''Thanks lad. Any trouble getting them?'' he asked, offering him one.

''No, not at all. One citizen helped me.'' He shook his head as a 'no'.''I don't smoke.''

''That's right. Too good to be here, aren't ya?'' he lit his smoke and inhaled deeply.

''I'dnt say that sir. I'm just an American hero.'' Alfred laughed. Captain laughed with him. He liked that boy, he liked his attitude. The had to smile in every situation, to keep bright mind.. His enthusiasm. He was a good soldier too.

''Now go and get some rest, Jones. We have important meeting tomorrow, remember?''
Alfred nodded, but then realized he wasn't tired at all. He chuckled at his captain.¨

''I'll take a walk. Not sleepy.'' He explained and Coleman nodded.

''But don't you go alone. Take someone with you.''

..-..

''It's so cold…'' whined Al's best friend Antonio. Antonio's family originated from Spain, but he himself was already born in Boston. He looked like Spaniard and spoke Spanish though. Such a cheerful guy shouldn't be in a war, thought always Alfred. But he was glad that Antonio was there.

''It's December. But come on, isn't it beautiful?'' he pointed at the rooftops, streets and everything covered in white snow that was slightly shining in the street light. He loved it when it was snowing. But Antonio didn't.

''It's cold! And dark! I don't like it …I want sun, and tomato…''

Alfred sighed.

''It'll be just a quick walk man.'' He tapped Antonio's shoulder as they continued walking. Before, Alfred had never been to England. He was sad that it was war what led him into such a nice place. No that it was better than America, but it was good.

After a while they spotted a person in front of them, propping against one of the lamps. They both gave each other a quick look. That person could be hurt. Alfred was the first one to go there, followed by his friend.

''Hey, man, are you o-'' he stopped when the person looked in his face. It was that Briton from earlier. Arthur, if he remembered correctly.

''You again, you bloody American git?''

Once he had said that, it made Al wonder just how managed that man to get drunk so quickly.

Antonio reached them by then.

''Oh, it's just a drunkard. Leave him go, Al.''

But Alfred didn't seem to even listen to him. He helped the man to stand up and supported him.

''Where do you live?''

When the Briton mumbled an address in return, Antonio snapped. He didn't want to go and help some drunken Brit. But Alfred obviously had different idea.

''How do we get there?''

''Alfred, I don't think it's a good idea. Let's go.'' Antonio tried.

''Yeah, leave me alone, ...git...'' hiccuped Arthur. But Alfred wasn't listening to any of them.

''Toni, you go back to the base. I'll take care of him.''

''Al, but-''

''Toni!I'm not gonna leave him here. He could fall asleep and freeze to death.''

Arthur glared at him.

''It's 'going', not 'gonna'..and put me down you brat!'' he yelled drunkenly when Alfred lifted him and put over his shoulder. Antonio just shook his head. He didn't like that, but he knew he couldn't really do anything now. He nodded.

''I'll tell the boss.''

''Thanks man.'' Alfred adjusted man on his shoulder and gave a bright smile to his friend, who just waved it off and started to walk away.

''So..how do we get there?''

..-..

''Let me down first…''

Although he was drunk, he seemed able to speak. At least good enough to tell him directions. And he did once Alfred put him down. He wouldn't really mind carrying him, he was surprisingly light. But somehow he just ended walking the Brit home.

''Does it snow often here?''

''Yes. Snow or rain, I don't care.'' mumbled Briton, supported by American soldier.''It's all the same.''

Alfred laughed. He liked that attitude. The man seemed funny as hell.

''Be quiet! You don't even realize we don't want you here, do you?'' growled Arthur quietly. Alfred continued walking, smile never leaving his face. Brit watched him, his features, blonde hair that seemed sunny even in the dark, that bright blue eyes, American smile, his composure, how proudly he wore his uniform. He was like a prototype of perfect American soldier. Arthur didn't like him.

''I do.'' Said American suddenly and Arthur gave him questioning look. That smile was there still.

''I realize you don't want our help. It's not like we were keen to go here either.''

That startled the older man. He just blinked and then furrowed his too big eyebrows.

''Then why the bloody hell didn't you stay home in your holy America?''

Alfred put him down and Arthur expected him to leave him there and go away, since he insulted his country.

''When I joined army, I swore I'd protect. Anyone. Anywhere. What difference makes if it's in Britain or America? After all, we all came from here.'' He smiled. ''And we're here.''

Arthur was so caught in those words he was saying that for a brief moment he hadn't even realized what he meant. Then he looked around. They were in front of those town houses, one exactly the same as others. One of them had name 'Kirkland' on the bell, but it couldn't be seen from where they stood.

''We're here.'' Repeated Alfred. ''Which one is yours?''

Arthur blushed when he realized that American had been nice to him even after all those things he said and he clumsily walked towards his house. A few drinks he had had earlier where showing off a little. He wondered why American still followed him.

He stopped just in front of his gate and turned to soldier.

''Uh…want to…go inside? I could make you tea.'' He offered, after all, he WAS a gentleman. Alfred seemed surprised by that question and smiled.

''What about coffee?''

''Tea.'' Replied Arthur quickly and a little bit angrily. He hated that black, bitter liquid.

''Tea then.'' Soldier smiled and followed him inside.

..-..

Alfred had never been in British house before. So when Arthur a bit unsure stumbled to kitchen to make tea, Al took his jacket off, and also took his opportunity to look around. It had been just like he imagined. Decorated, but small, with heavy 'British' scent, how he called it. He saw that Arthur had a huge collection of books, which actually reminded him of his own collection he had home. But his was collection of comics. These were Shakespeare, Dickens, Scott, Shelley, Byron, Wilde…

Then his attention caught something different. It was rather thick book with title 'History and rise of the United States'. He was surprised. So even after Arthur kept saying he hated Americans, he still had this kind of book. But then he noticed there were many, many history books. Maybe he was a history teacher or something.

However, he had no time to look around more, because suddenly someone grabbed his chin and pulled him into a kiss.

Kiss with a strong taste of alcohol.

That someone was Arthur.

..-..

Alfred was shocked, and he pushed the Briton away.

''What are you doing man?'' he asked with shaky breath. Was it just his imagination, or did that man really look…different?

But he actually never got an answer, because within a second he found himself being kissed again. If only kissed. Brit was fast as he started to undress him rather quickly. Alfred became aware of what just was happening when he heard his gun clash on the floor as Arthur threw it away.

''Hey! Stop it!'' he glared at him, but green eyes were lustfully smiling at him. He was pressed against the book shelf, his mouth ravished again and again and again. He felt a hand on his thigh, sliding up, A knee between his leg, pressing on his crotch. He groaned.

And stopped controlling himself.