A/N: song fic based off of the song from Shrek 2 "I need a Hero" or "Holding out for a hero" time passes usually between lyrics. italics are most often lyrics please reveiw and enjoy~ i finally wrote something not seychelles fanfiction XD
Where have all the good men gone?
And where`s all the gods?
Where`s the streetwise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn`t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn
and I dream of what I need…
Arthur Kirkland glared coldly at the wall. Honestly who did that French bastard think he was? Using people like that. He was without a doubt with some other unlucky naïve creature at this very moment. The room was dark and the wall he stared at was blank. He checked the clock, it read 12: 05 a.m. He wouldn`t get to sleep now so he got his ass out of bed. Putting tea on the stove he picked up a book, only to drop it like it was hot from the oven. Bloody French books. He had been reading it to show some sort of support for his partner, but now that he was abandoned…. Arthur walked to the bookshelf absentmindedly fingering the spines of the well ordered volumes. No, he would not cry for that frog. It was ridiculous and weak to cry for someone. He would not do it. Blinking back what unwelcome tears had dared pool in his eyes, he picked up the kettle, pouring out the steaming liquid into a small cup. Mixing in the sugar he sat down. It didn`t last long. The alcohol in the house was wiped out, so Arthur was forced to leave the comfort of his own home. A foul mood apparent, no one approached him, not on the street not in the pub he managed to reach. "A scotch." Arthur growled to the bartender, who immediately obeyed, getting the requested drink.
I need a hero I`m holding out for a hero
`till the end of the night
He`s gotta be strong
And he`s gotta be fast
And he`s gotta be fresh from the fight.
I need a hero, I`m holding out for a hero
`till the morning light
He`s gotta be sure
And it`s gotta be soon
And he`s gotta be larger than life (larger than life)
The Kirkland spent a while alone on a barstool, just drinking scotch after scotch. It was well into the early hours of the morning before he stopped. Slapping a fistful of money on the bar, he staggered out of his chair. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Arthur scowled when a sliver of wood penetrated his skin. The blood rising to his skin reminded him of the color of the wine Francis had passed him that first night they met. He sucked his middle finger sourly, making the bleeding stop. An obnoxiously loud American was yelling something about sports teams to a shy looking man that had to be his brother (as they looked exactly alike) beside him.
"I have to be good at everything I`m the hero." Yes, definitely American. No other race was so stuck up.
"You`re not really a hero, just because that`s your video game username, eh?" The other, must be Canadian, pointed out.
Arthur rolled his eyes, clutching the wall for balance. Honestly did those idiotic yanks ever grow up? He watched their retreating backs, couldn`t hurt to tease the two could it? He chuckled to himself before starting after their blurred figures. "Oi! You two." The Canadian was the first to look around pulling his brother with him. "Yes you."
"What?" That obnoxiously loud American asked.
That's when Arthur realized how utterly cute the American was. No, cute was not the appropriate word. But sexy seemed too strong. Arthur smirked lightly. "Want to join me for some- hic – drinks?" Was what he managed. What happened to his sly behavior, his quick, cutting words? The attack he had prepared had left his mind as soon as the leather jacket wearing yank turned around.
"Sounds like you`ve had enough drinks." The smirk on the louder`s face was unbearable. A dark glare appeared on the Kirkland`s face.
"You can never have enough drinks." He went to step forward to confront the American and lost his footing. Falling on his arse, that bloody American came forward to help him up. Shoving the man away The Brit stood, once again using the brick wall for support.
"What`s your name?" the curiosity was apparent in the younger`s face.
"Arthur. Why do you ask?"No, Arthur wouldn`t stop being irritable so fast.
"I`m Alfred. Now will you allow me to get you a cab? I don`t think you could walk like that…"
"Nonsense I walked here. Say, where did you bloody brother go?"
"How did you know he was my brother?"
"You two look exactly alike bloody idiot. Now where did he go?"
"He has a habit of disappearing at random."
"I`m right here eh? Names` Matthew. And Alfred is correct in saying you can`t walk home in this condition…" The shyest of the three mentioned. "But if you don`t mind Alfred I really must be getting home. Or do you need help getting him home?"
"I`m the hero I can do anything on my own." The American- Alfred apparently, claimed.
"I told you I`m bloody fine."
The Canadian left soon after flagging down a yellow taxi and climbing in.
"Lean on me for support." Alfred ordered.
Arthur grimaced. "Are you deaf? I`m fine." He took a step only to cling to the wall again.
"Fine. Since you are far too drunk to walk let alone find your house I hope you won`t mind crashing at my place~"
"Of course I will! I can find my own bloody house, just give me a moment." In fact the Brit couldn`t remember the direction he had come in.
Alfred smirked and threw Arthur over his shoulder. "Just relax." Arthur wanted so badly to kill.
"Let go of me you bloody bastard! Put me down! I`ll bloody kill you." He threatened. None of it was any use. The American refused to let go, and carried Arthur with suspicious ease for a fast-food eating, video game playing, couch potato.
Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There`s someone reaching back for me
Raising on the thunder
And rising with the heat
It`s gonna take a superman
To sweep me off my feet
They reached the American`s apartment just before Arthur completely lost it. Unlocking the door, the Kirkland found himself dumped onto the slightly too soft leather couch. It was all he could do not to gag at the sight of the messy condo. Wrappers and soda cups littered the entire room, the carpet was stiff in some places from mustard or ketchup stains. The entire room smelled of french-fries, and old spice cologne. Arthur pulled a video game control from beneath his back and dropped it on the floor. He sat up quickly. A little too quickly and a headache soon set in. He moaned softly , rubbing his temples, and lying down again.
"Aspirin?" Alfred stood over him with a pill bottle and a glass of water. The Brit wanted to glare, but instead he simply nodded, and took both. Swallowing the pill easily, he cast another disgusted glance around the room.
"How can you bloody live in this pig-sty?"
Alfred only shrugged as if this was nothing compared to usual. "So Arthur since you`re staying here, tell me, why did you drink so much tonight?"
"My boyfriend broke up with me after-hic- months of dating, apparently he only wanted sexual gratification." Arthur said sourly.
"Sounds like an ass, and someone to not drink yourself sick over."
"What do you bloody mean?"
"I mean if he`s that rude you shouldn`t care." Alfred kicked his shoes off, leaning back in a recliner. Arthur sat up, slower this time.
"How do you know?"
"It happens to everyone, dude, messy break-ups shouldn`t be so bad." Alfred shrugged.
Arthur seemed to consider that. "So even if you gave your heart to someone and they tore it to pieces, you`re saying you wouldn`t care?"
"I never said that. I said people shouldn`t. Instead of being sad they should be angry, make a comeback, not drink and eat ice-cream." He offered a small smile, looking a bit distant.
"What the bloody hell are you thinking about?"
"I`m sorry it seems like we`ve met before…"
Arthur agreed. Perhaps not met but he must have seen the boy somewhere… "Indeed. I just don`t seem to recall how." He considered how they had met, to give him a hint, and it did. A big one. "Didn`t we go out drinking once?" That had been one of the times, he had gotten drunk did and said stuff he regretted then dashed first thing in the morning. He never thought about how it would have affected the younger.
He saw slight hurt in Alfred`s eyes. "Yes, yes we did. That was the first time I…" He blushed slightly and trailed off.
"First time you what?" Arthur prodded, he had to know now. If the git had lost his virginity to a drunken version of himself, he would never be able to forgive himself.
"First time I fell in love."
Up where the mountains reach the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I could swear there`s someone somewhere watching me
Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach like fire in my blood
Arthur simply blinked. No, he refused to admit the same was true for him, and it definitely wasn`t still true now. No he would never fall for anyone again, never let anyone hurt him so badly. After all he had only met this man once, only spoken to him once before. There was no way old feelings were rising in him now just at the sight. Then again, what other explanation did he have for being all tongue tied? For not knowing what words to say?
"Arthur?" Alfred was still blushing madly.
"Yes?"
"It…it`s still true. That`s why I picked you up. I remembered. I wasn`t nearly drunk enough to forget." It took the bitter Kirkland a full minute to register what Alfred just said. He was still in love with him. Oh, God. This wasn`t happening. And there were most definitely not feelings of his own rising up in his throat. Most of all he refused to admit them. Instead he carefully stood. There was always a test. Using various materials for balance, he made his way to the recliner.
I need a hero, I`m holding out for a hero
`till the morning light
and he`s gotta be sure
and it`s gotta be soon
and hes gotta be larger than life
He sat carefully on the arm of the chair. His hand cupped around Alfred`s neck, the other taking his chin and tilting it up to face him. Closing his eyes, he kissed the American. The test results were disappointing. It was almost as if an electric shock traveled between their lips. He ,in fact, had feelings for the younger man in front of him. Life wasn`t fair. His heart should have learned a lesson by now. It had only been a week since the breakup. Could Alfred be this so called "come back"? This obnoxiously loud American who believed he was a hero?
I need a hero I`m holding out for a hero
`till the end of the night
He`s gotta be strong
and he`s gotta be fast
and he`s gotta be fresh from the fight
Yes, it could. It was. Francis was off making out with some poor innocent soul. But here was Arthur`s hero. Saving him from his past. Any mistakes were accepted. The muscular arms of the man wrapped around the Kirkland, pulling him into his lap and kissing him passionately. Yes, he wasn`t the only one who believed he was a hero.
I need a hero.