Title: Once Upon A Thursday
Pairings: America/England
Characters in this chapter: America, ~*mystery bartender*~, mentions of England and Prussia
Rating: T
Summary: AU (human names used); It all started with Punk Thursdays. Alfred stumbles upon a mini concert held in a small-time bar and falls in love...with Arthur Kirkland's voice. What started as admiration turns into friendship between this unlikely pair. But when Alfred finds himself falling in love with Arthur himself, he realizes that starting a relationship is not as easy as he thinks. Especially with someone like Arthur Kirkland.
Warning: possible OOC?
AN: written for the prompt: Punk rocker!England and fan!America's lives as they meet, become friends, and eventually fall in love. beta'd by strawberryburst at livejournal
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Chapter One: Of Rainy Days and Forgotten Umbrellas
There was a time when Alfred thought he had first met Arthur on a day with overcast skies and a forgotten umbrella. He got the details right; he was just mistaken about the specific situation.
Overhead, plump clouds fought for supremacy over an overcast sky, and Alfred immediately chided himself for forgetting his umbrella at home. It always rained whenever he failed to bring his umbrella with him.
His trusty yellow umbrella was at home, leaning against his doorjamb mockingly, but he knew that there really was nothing he could do anymore about his lack of protection against the rain. He was not, to use an over-used idiom, one to cry over spilt milk. All he could do now was quicken his steps and hope that he could reach the bus stop before the rain came.
Luck however was not on his side that night; fate was. Alfred was a long way from the bus stop when the rain fell, not in slow fat drops but in a deluge of thin wet needles, sharp and cold against his skin. He was getting soaked and he had to find some shelter, fast.
Luckily (fatefully), shelter was just around the corner.
To Alfred's surprise, he was able to enter the bar without anybody asking him for proof that he was of legal age—surprising since he wasn't.
But then it was just a small establishment, a homey pub whose neon signboard was blurred behind the misty blanket of rain. They probably didn't care much about such small details.
Alfred walked towards the bar counter and sat down, all damp coat and damp spirits. The bartender winked at him, as if in on his little secret. He leaned towards Alfred, a little too close actually, forcing him to back away, just a little bit.
"A drink to warm you up?" he asked. Alfred couldn't help noticing his thick French accent.
"Actually, I'm not supposed to drink yet," Alfred replied sheepishly. "I don't even know how I managed to get in here."
"Don't worry," the bartender replied, already pouring him a glass of brandy. "Drink's on the house."
He handed the glass to Alfred who downed it, bottoms up. It was warm and fiery as it went down his throat, just what he needed that cold night, and soon, he found himself asking for another glass.
He did not drink his next glass as quickly; he was certain he'd burn his throat otherwise and besides, he wasn't sure how long the bartender's generosity would last. He was going to savor this glass of brandy as if it were his last. And so, Alfred sipped his brandy slowly, savoring its taste together with his surroundings.
Alfred had been to several bars before, thanks to his roommate's, Gilbert's, connections. Yet, this bar was different. There were the usual scents of cigarette smoke and alcohol floating in the air; missing however was another scent that usually mixed in with the two—one that belonged to warm bodies pressed together, moving as one to the rhythm of club music.
In fact, there was no dancing and no music. Instead, an air of anticipation, of excitement, hung above the air. Something was going to happen; Alfred could feel it tingling in his nerves.
"Is something up tonight?" Alfred asked nonchalantly.
The bartender winked at him. "You're lucky, mon cher. You stumbled upon my bar on Punk Thursdays."
"Punk Thurs—" But Alfred wasn't able to finish his question because just then, the air of excitement all around him suddenly exploded into loud cheers. The other customers obviously knew something he didn't.
Alfred turned around and realized that somewhere a little to his right was actually a small makeshift stage. And atop it was an unassuming man of slight build, plugging in his amp, oblivious to the cheers around him. He wondered if, perhaps, this man was the punk star everyone was waiting for.
The answer stared Alfred right in the face as soon as the question slipped through his mind. The unassuming man was obviously the one all these customers were waiting for. As soon as he stood up, his guitar slung across one shoulder, the unassuming air around him just upped and left. He wasa punk star; it was all over his ripped shirt, his leather pants, his Union Jack-print Chuck Taylors and the Union Jack-print bandanna tied around his neck. Alfred couldn't help but stare as he thought that this man must be one hell of a Brit.
And then he started playing his guitar, cheers erupting from the crowd. And Alfred realized, that no, he wasn't just a punk star; he was thepunk star.
His fingers flew across his guitar, with a speed and intensity that Alfred had never seen before. His riffs soared through the air, as did his voice, at times loud and brusque, and then suddenly soft, almost like a whisper to the wind. He played and he sang and he sent electricity through the air and into Alfred, jolting him, giving him goose bumps. Alfred found himself standing up, jumping up and down with the crowd, cheering until his throat felt hoarse.
The glass of brandy lay unfinished on the counter. A different kind of warmth now shot through Alfred's veins.
No, it wasn't warmth, it was white hot electricity.
In the middle of the singing and the cheering and the pressing of warm bodies against each other—which had been absent just minutes ago—
Something clicked in Alfred's mind.
He had seen this man before; he was sure of it. The question was, where?
"Arthur Kirkland," the bartender replied to Alfred's question, almost wistfully.
The show was over before most of the audience, including Alfred, even felt that it had truly started. Arthur Kirkland was off the stage and had exited via a back door. And Alfred still couldn't shake this feeling of déjà vu he had.
"Aren't you going to ask my name too, mon cher?" The bartender was obviously flirting with him now. But Alfred was too lost in his own thoughts. Forgetting that the brandy he had drunk was on the house, he set some bills on the counter and left.
(He'd soon find out the bartender's name anyways. After all, he'd be back the next Thursday, and the next Thursday, and the Thursday after that.)
It was only when Alfred was wide awake on his bed later that night, silently following the winding cracks on the ceiling with his eyes, did he remember where he had first met Arthur Kirkland.
The memory was blurred in his mind, shadowy figures hidden behind a rainy mist. But he could see it playing in his head well enough, and Arthur Kirkland, he was certain, was part of it.
It was a rainy day, but unlike most other rainy days, Alfred had not forgotten to bring his umbrella with him that afternoon, one of only a few rare occasions.
As soon as the first fat wet drops fell from the overcast sky, Alfred, with a slight smugness, opened his bright yellow umbrella, a fist of sunshine against the grey skies. Humming to himself, he began to skip along happily, making sure to jump into every puddle that came into his path.
"What a silly dolt." He heard someone mutter from somewhere in his shadowy surroundings.
Immediately, he stumbled on a puddle and stopped, his heart jumping around in panic inside his chest. Could it be a….ghost? But then, wasn't it too early for anything, anyone to be out haunting him? It was only dusk for crying out loud! Weren't ghosts and other supernatural beings supposed to only appear during midnight at least?
With these jumbled thoughts jumping around in his head, Alfred began to quicken his pace. The sooner he got to the bus stop, the better.
And that was when he saw him, a drenched figure standing by the sidewalk.
He stood under the rain, one hand holding a guitar case and the other inside the pocket of his drenched trench coat. His sandy blond bangs were wet and pressed against his face but Alfred could still see his expression, his mouth turned down in a thin disapproving frown. Alfred immediately felt like a kid caught red-handed stealing from a cookie jar.
Immediately, he felt a wave of annoyance bubbling inside him. What did he do wrong now? He tried to channel his displeasure at the stranger's own apparent displeasure at him into a glare.
Wrong move.
As soon as he looked at the stranger, really looked at him, Alfred began to see strange things. Things like sad sad eyes, staring right back at him from underneath those wet bangs. He could feel the bubbling feelings of annoyance inside him turning into something else. Pity? Or sympathy? He wasn't sure.
Before he was completely aware of what was happening, Alfred found himself walking towards the stranger. He stood beside him, yellow umbrella wide open over their heads.
"What do you think you're doing, git?" the stranger muttered, refusing to look at Alfred. He actually looked kind of embarrassed and to Alfred's surprise, he found his expression rather…cute.
"I don't know either." Alfred replied, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I guess now that I've seen you, I can't leave you under the rain anymore just like that."
And so they stood quietly side by side under Alfred's bright yellow umbrella.
(It was actually a little too small for the both of them, and Alfred could feel cold raindrops splashing against his arm. But he didn't mind. Not at all.)
tbc
Some Notes:
I'm so sorry for the short first chapter! This is actually kinda prologue-ish but I promise, the next chapter will have more action so please be patient with me m(_ _)m. This whole thing might end up being short actually, just around 3-5 chapters I guess? But hey, it might end up longer who knows XD? Anyways, I hope you all like my first multi-chapter fic in a long time haha |D.