Arthur woke up in the middle of a dream in which his younger self had been riding a unicorn, possibly heading "somewhere over the rainbow". The digital clock on the nightstand said 5:57am. In a split of second, he figured out the current situation he was in. To summarize, first, he slept with someone he picked up from streets; frankly this wasn't too new to him. Second, by the standards of a certain Elizabeta Hedervary, he absolutely hadn't done the homework on his on-going case. And last but not the least, he was supposed to join his mentor for said case in the courtroom at 9 o'clock sharp.

The black-haired man was still sound asleep. Arthur leaned against the headboard and looked down at the slim Asian. This was a man far too delicate to be real. Arthur remembered the Asian's suicidal attempt from last night. Why on earth would an angel like this want to disappear from this world? The Brit pondered and sighed. He always knew he probably had a little kinky yellow fever, which was part of the reason he followed this guy when he climbed up to the roof. And yes, he knew he was a guy from the very beginning. The amber-eyed man looked so hurt and broken when he was about to cut himself; but shortly after he got totally turned on and participated enthusiastically in their make-out session. Even the more experienced of the two was a bit impressed by the sudden turn of attitude; of course, he couldn't complain about that. All in all, they did have wonderful sex; so wonderful that Arthur almost wished to upgrade their relationship to something more than merely a one-night stand.

The blonde switched off his cellphone in the last second before his 6am morning alarm went off. Swiftly removing himself from under the pale-skinned arm that clung to his waist subconsciously, Arthur quietly dashed to the bathroom for a quick shower. He might have fantasized another night with the angel-faced brunette in the past three minutes. But he knew far too well that he'd better reserve such leisure thoughts for later of the day.

As a new pupil at the criminal bar, the Brit decided to skip breakfast when he recalled the remark from the head of the chambers on his mentor. "You will opt to be sent to Mercury than face the wrath of Miss Hedervary." Not that he hated her for being incredibly strict though. Instead, that was probably what he liked the most about her. Unlike everyone else, Miss Hedervary simply wouldn't give a damn because he was the son of Judge Kirkland.

Arthur frowned at the thought of his father as he brushed his teeth. Ever since he started law school, he had desperately been in the shadow of his famous father. It was bad enough that half of his professors were family friends of the Kirklands. And now four barristers in the chambers might ask his dad to be a referee for their QC applications. He could swear on all that was British that he had worked much harder than most of his peers to be where he stood now, and that his father really didn't offer much help other than a few advices from experiences. But nobody would believe him. He knew exactly what those smirks on his colleagues' faces meant. Boy he only wanted someone who saw him as Arthur, not a Kirkland!

He was going through the brief he read last night in his mind during the shower. No doubt the emerald-eyed Brit was smart and all, even blessed with a bit of what people called eidetic memory, which was certainly quite handy for a future lawyer. Making mental notes here and there, thinking of the possible grounds to build their reasoning on, and murmuring the speech he as the junior lawyer would have to give in an unlikely event, Arthur rubbed the towel on his head hastily. Sometimes he really despised himself for what he was doing.

It was a rape accusation this time and they were prosecuting. The accused was a notorious wanker and the victim was a waitress working at the coffee shop near the man's workplace. Troubles were, apart from his terrible reputation, the defendant had been clever enough not to be found guilty a single time. And the young and vulnerable waitress was completely traumatized and didn't report until her family found out five days after. At the end of the day, the evidences provided by the police were not strong enough to guarantee the penalty. Arthur wanted to send that bloody jerk to prison as badly as the CPS. Yet his inner barrister failed to see how procedural justice could be realized at the same time. In other words, their job was mainly to fit the defendant in and get the jury to buy their story. Miss Hedervary specialized in this field. She might be fair with her pupils; but it didn't necessarily mean she'd be fair at court. After all, eloquence and passion alone would get her nowhere near that gorgeous silk gown. And who said justice was well defined in the first place? She'd play dirty if she needed to, and Arthur would play along.

He was fine with such rules of the game except when he wasn't. From time to time, he felt sick of himself impersonating the defender of justice, while truth was he was only taking advantage of all he had learnt and trying to win the cases that would flatter his resume. And when he was fed up and being torn by himself, he would put on his band outfit that had seen better days, join his good old friends at whatever pub they picked, and throw a totally thrilling concert to the drunken. And that was how he had spent the early night before he caught a glimpse of a surprisingly alluring Asian wandering about the dark corners of London.

The Brit stepped out from the bathroom, with a few drops of water still dripping from his spikey blonde hair. The Asian was still panting slightly in his dreams when Arthur dug into his backpack. Thank goodness he was smart enough to pack some proper clothes, a gown and a wig before he reunited with his band friends last night. No one in the chambers needed to see his fashionable punk outfit.

Arthur didn't know the other person in the room woke up as he dressed himself. When he turned around and reached for his watch on the nightstand, he couldn't help but held his breath for a good thirty seconds.

That was the saddest and the most beautiful face his emerald eyes had ever met. Even sadder than last night when he was attempting to suicide. Silky dark hair covering the pillow, the Asian kept still. His amber eyes were watery and shining; yet through them the Brit saw nothing. He was smiling, pink lips forming an elegant curve; and that made Arthur's heart sink hopelessly in an unknown sea of unknown grief.

As practical and rational as a lawyer ought to be, Arthur simply couldn't resist the urge to question the Asian's background and reach out a hand to drag him out of whatever saddened him. Yet who was he to interfere with this man's life? They were strangers, after all.

The blonde suddenly wanted to fuck the brunette so hard, over and over again; and that way maybe he could revive the upset beauty and turn him into the passionate one he had been last night. But he couldn't, obviously. He could only kneeled by the bedside and kissed him gently. The Asian's lips were cold and soft in the refreshing morning breeze, just like the skin of a juicy plum with a drop of dew. Arthur threw the blanket to the ground and started to place soothing kisses everywhere on the other's naked body, even though the other paid no attention.

Another kiss on those delicious lips, Arthur knew he must leave. Like an old married couple bidding their morning goodbyes, the Brit murmured, "You can stay here in the morning if you want. Do you want breakfast? I can call for room service. Don't worry about money. I'll take care of that when I check out." If there was anything Arthur liked about being the son of a busy judge and living a stressful life, it would be having enough bills in his wallet that he could casually spend on attractive strangers.

The dark-haired showed no interest in such an offer. He only gave out a sigh and asked slowly, "Who are you?"

"Arthur, Arthur Kirkland." replied the blonde. It was quite rare for him to give his real name in such situations. Usually he'd just use whatever name he made up that instant. "Pleased to meet you. May I have the honor to be told your name?" If there was someone worthy of all the gentlemanliness he had to offer, it would be this fragile oriental beauty in front of him.

Arthur waited for a bit while the other only sighed again. The Briton more or less foresaw this reaction and wasn't really expecting an answer. He fished out a notebook from his backpack, quickly scribbled down his name and phone number and put the piece of paper on the nightstand. "I- I really have to run. Call me if you need anything, any time." Placing one last kiss on the smaller man's right hand, Arthur stood up and turned his heels to the door.

"Wang Yao," mumbled the Asian, when Arthur turned the knob. The voice was low and soft, like fairies' whispers. Yet Arthur caught it.

"How beautiful." The blond remarked, before he finally got out of the room. He didn't know what it meant; but it would only make sense for such a person to have a matching name. He couldn't pronounce it as the Asian did. With the intonations the Brit couldn't manage, it was more like singing than speaking. Even though those were the only two words the golden-eyed man said in his own language, even though Arthur wasn't sure whether that was Chinese or Korean, he fell in love with that mysterious oriental language immediately.

Nervously sitting in a café near the court, Arthur bit his lips and took a last sip into his earl grey. Then he closed his bulky folders and set out for the courtroom. Little did he know how he changed Yao's life completely in this very morning.


A/N: Thank you for commenting, fav-ing and following! Lots of love! I'm sorry if Arthur is a bit OOC. (I seem to make him too soft and gentle... but somehow I'd always picture Arthur being sweet when he truly falls for someone.) My knowledge of the British legal system completely comes from Silk. *Courtesy to Martha Costello!* So another apology if there's something wrong.

Comment please!