Claim: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, and I do not make any money from writing this. This goes for all chapters.

Arthur sat in the park smoking his eleventh cigarette that evening while he patiently tried to persuade himself into going home. It had been two hours already, and besides his red lips that were heated up from the smoking his body was turning cold as ice. As he moved his feet in order to stand and straighten up in his back, he could see how his legs were shaking, and his actions suddenly occurred very ridiculous to him.

"You're an old man," he whispered and forced a smile to his lips, "too old to take that one last step. Your time has passed." He looked at the cigarette. There was only the end left. "Might as well head home now."

It wasn't as if this evening was any different from the others. Since he moved from the country to the city a month ago, he'd been heading downtown every afternoon with one target in mind; to make that day his last day in denial, and get out of the closet once and for all. Hell, he'd even moved to this specific city because it was well known for it's huge gay-community. However, in his excitement he'd forgotten that coming out meant an end to being straight, and if he were to flirt with guys, he would have to seek into the places where the gays were.

And he just hadn't got the balls for that yet.

Arthur's gaze flickered to the entrance of the park. He could see his flat from where he was sitting. His flat and the flats of all the other citizens. He could see the boring old offices and the museums with proper art and the shops with dusty suits and striped ties and long skirts.

But what he could also see when turning the head a little was the park's second entrance. The entrance leading to bars filled to the brim with half-naked, sweaty men dancing their erection away, leading to the museums with statues of cocks and dildos, the shops offering leather-suits and whips and food at the same time. And the music! Oh, he could hear the music clearly. When closing his eyes, it was as if the deep beat filled his body, heated it up and made his heart beat faster, - no, it raced! His heart raced with joy, and he felt young again!

But when he opened the eyes and looked down, what he could see was a boring old businessman. 30 years old, but what had he done with his life so far? He'd graduated from university, gotten married and gotten divorced three months later because of his 'sick behaviour' that included masturbating. He'd moved five times, gotten a job, gotten fired, gotten another job, quitted, gotten yet a job. Not exactly a story for a movie unless boredom becomes the new Twilight. Arthur made a face of disgust; even he would rather be watching that teenage-film than keep living his own life!

"Go to Hell!" Arthur jumped at the sudden yelling coming from behind. He got up from the bench and turned around just in time to see how the arms of a heavy guy locked around a smaller woman. She screamed while kicking with her feet in the air as the man easily lifted her up from the ground. "Let go of me! Go fuck someone else! Let. Go!"

"Hey – she doesn't like you, so let go of her!" The man stiffened in his actions as Arthur shouted at him. He shot the smaller Englishman a glare.

"What, kid, got a problem? Here to get your ass kicked, haah? Haah!"

"…haah.." Arthur felt his throat go dry within seconds, and just like the beat of the music had made his heart race like crazy minutes earlier, the voice of the man made it stop moving at all. He lost hold of his cigarette, dropped it to the ground as his hands nervously went up into the air, shaking protectively in front of himself. "I-I-I mean.. She just doesn't look… Happy?" he tried, a shaking smile crossing his lips. He attempted to look friendly, but the man was an animal disturbed in its hunting, and his smile was a request for blood and broken bones.

"Oh, you don't like sad faces, is that it?" he asked with a gentle voice, slowly placing the woman back down onto the ground. Arthur sank a mouthful of spit that wasn't there while he slowly nodded. "Oh, then I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Arthur smiled confused though taking a step back, "n-no harm done. As long as we can discuss this in a civilised manner." He laughed a little. The man laughed, and slowly Arthur's heart began to beat again. Bump. Bump. Bump.

"No, lad, you're not getting it – I am not sorry for letting you see a sad face, I am sorry because I'll be giving you one in a second." Bum-…

The fist hit Arthur's chin before he even saw the man move, and he fell, smashing the back of his head into the ground. He heard whimpers, and first he though it was the woman's, but she was long gone, and the sound of defeat was escaping from himself. "Fucking queer," the man above him spat, kicking him in the stomach, making Arthur twist in pain, "you're everywhere, aren't you? Won't fuck the women and won't let others! Fucking faggot!" Arthur growled and tried to get up on all fours, but the man grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his face upwards. "Look, now my catch got away. That makes me sad, so I'll beat you up until I become happy again, got it?" He grinned, spitting down at Arthur's face. Arthur gasped in air, his brain still not comprehending the situation.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I really am!" he sobbed, tears forming in his eyes.

"Yeah, you'll be fucking sorry." The man let go of his hair and took a step back. Arthur could see how he lifted his leg, preparing to kick his teeth out with that big black boot of his, and in his silent mind he cursed himself for ending his life before he even allowed himself to begin it properly.

Then - what happened next seemed so cool and so stupid at the same time that when thinking back, Arthur's not sure whether it really happened or if he was hallucinating.

Just as the man's foot flew forward, the steady music from the background drowned in a loud mechanical roar, and just centimetres before the man's boot hit Arthur, from the dark a shining red motorcycle flew out and crashed into the side of the man, knocking him over. The man cried in pain as he was swung through the air, crashing against the bench metres away. Arthur yelled out in surprise, rolling backwards as he tried to avoid the bike himself, but it seemed as if he was attracting danger that evening. The motorcycle turned and headed fast towards him, and he was sure he was going to get the same treatment as the guy, but then the brakes were kicked to their limit and the bike stopped in front of him.

"Christ… Jesus… Christ…" Arthur gasped, starring into the headlight.

"Hey!" the biker roared, "hey, get up, dude! You don't want to be hurt, do ya?" Arthur stumbled onto his feet again, his body still swaying in pain from the kick. His eyes fell upon the biker who was watching him with great concern in his blue eyes. "Ya okay?"

The bloke was much younger than him, maybe even 10 years, and though Arthur shouldn't be noticing it at the time, he couldn't help but admit that he was damn good looking. Blond, wavy hair, honest blue eyes behind a pair of glasses, and the black leather-jacket just gave him the last touch of a complete bad-ass. "Hey, you hear me?" Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a whimper, and his vision blurred up in tears. "Wow, mate!" the bloke reached out and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him closer, "hey, there's no reason to go all whiny. Hey.." The biker peeled off his glove. Arthur's tears were gently swept away with the guy's warm fingers, and he couldn't help but smile a little, for it was all so silly and so stupid and so scary at the same time. "Ya, that's right," the guy said cheering as Arthur smiled, "that's what I wanna see. Hey, you new in town? I'm telling ya, here we homos look out for each another! No need to feel afraid!" Arthur sank a mouthful of spit.

"But I'm not ga-"

"Oh shit!" The guy interrupted Arthur, looking at something behind him. As Arthur looked over his shoulder, he could see how the man was slowly getting up from the broken bench, - and to say it mildly, he didn't look happy. "Here," Arthur looked back at the biker as something was pressed to his chest. He looked down at the helmet. "Get up and let's get away."

"But I've never tried riding a bike before," Arthur complained, though he was already putting on the helmet. The biker smiled, watching Arthur climb onto the bike.

"Piece of advice then; hold on tight!" As the motorcycle accelerated from zero to way-to-much, Arthur did hold on tight, and everything was so messed up in his head that he didn't even notice that they were heading for the park's second entrance and the life he had always wanted.