AN: Hello fans. I was inspired by a song called Need You Now, so if you look up those lyrics then you will see that the plot follows them nicely. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I disclaim…

The blonde lifted his blue eyes from the floor where they had been focused and shifted them to the bare white ceiling of the house that always felt too big. He pulled Texas off his nose and rubbed his eyes, leaning back in the armchair where he had thrown himself down earlier that night. What a long night it had been.

Rain.

It started raining about midday. The rain only meant one thing.

Alfred Jones closed his tired eyes and memories flooded back to him.

"Arthur!" The taller man turned around, thick eyebrows arched in curiosity, "Don't go! I'll be lonely in this big house!" Arthur ruffled the small boy's hair. "I'm sure you'll manage." Upon seeing the frown on his colony's face, he smiled gently and continued. "I'll miss you Alfred, and I'll be back soon, ok?" The small blonde nodded happily.

Alfred rubbed his eyes again trying to forget, desperate to make the images disappear.

"Arthur!" He ran to greet said man. "Hey.. wha..?" Started the man who raised him, but Alfred was no longer the small colony he had been when Arthur left. Now he was nearly a head taller than Arthur himself and squinting, as if he was having trouble seeing, "You're…" Alfred, His Alfred, cut him off, "Taller! Yeah! I was wondering if maybe you had just shrunk!" Alfred laughed.

This memory, too, faded quickly, only to be replaced by one a lot less welcome.

"Arthur!" A bayonet was pointed at him, but only briefly before said man dropped it to the ground, falling to his knees with it. "Is this it?" The Briton choked out weakly looking up with tears in his eyes as the American army surrounded him. "It started as you throwing out all my tea. That was innocent enough. You were always a naughty child anyway. But now this…. This is how it ends?" Alfred stared down at the man who had raised him, he had no words of comfort. No words at all. He walked away. He was a hero.

Alfred shook his head to erase these unwelcome memories. Why did the rain always cause them to return? He was no hero. He walked away from the one man he ever loved. The blonde slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it a moment, before making up his mind and dialing slowly.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four.

The machine answered.

"You've reached Arthur Kirkland. Leave a message and I'll get back to you, eventually." 'Yes Arthur,' Thought the American clutching the phone, 'come back to me.'

The beep sounded and startled Alfred out of his reverie. "Oh, um, hey Arthur! It's me Alfred!" He started brightly, then sighed deeply, "Um, listen…. I said I wouldn't call but…I…. need you now. Call me." He hung up. Lame. That sounded lame. Alfred sighed and tossed his phone aside and goes to the kitchen to grab a beer glancing at the clock. 12:24 A.M.

A few blocks down the road a phone vibrated unnoticed on a bar. The owner of the phone, nursing his fourth shot of whiskey, with his bushy eyebrows, collared shirt, sweater vest, and proper British accent, clearly did not belong there.

Arthur Kirkland glanced at the clock on the wall then at the door, as was his habit for the past few hours. It was 12:24 A.M. and still the man he was praying would show up, was nowhere in sight.

In his mind, he sees the tall, proud, blonde wanker striding in the bloody door, pushing his bloody glasses up his nose, and then blathering on about some nonsense that is oh so important because he's the hero. Arthur scoffs at the air and takes the shot in his hand. His vision blurs replacing the dirty bar with another image.

"Is this it?" he laughed weakly, vaguely aware of solders clad in blue surrounding him but for him all that existed were the blue eyes above him. "It started as you throwing out all my tea. That was innocent enough. You were always a naughty child anyway. But now this…. This is how it ends?" He watched as he felt his heart break in two, the man he raised turning his back on him and walking away as he lay in the rain, powerless.

"Sir," Says the man behind the counter, "I'm sorry but we are closing." Arthur glares at the man who so rudely interrupted his, whatever he was doing, and started for the door. "Sir!" The man called, "Your phone." Arthur turned and snatched his phone, blinking angrily trying to notify him of a message. Arthur brought the phone to his ear, playing the message. The sound of the taller blonde's voice made his knees weaken and his heart feel like a weight in his chest, but the words themselves had a sobering affect and he bolted out the door into the pouring rain. "Guess I'd rather hurt then feel nothing at all."

The self proclaimed hero glanced at the clock when he heard the loud banging on his door. It was a quarter after one. He was still alone. Any company would be welcome. Especially the dripping wet, half drunk Arthur that greeted him waited outside his door when he opened it.

"Alfred. You bloody wanker. You said you'd only call in emergencies."

"Oh Arthur. It is an emergency." He pulled the older man to him and held him close.

"What? L-Let go of me!" But Arthur didn't fight the strong arms around him, letting himself be led into the house.

And when soft lips came down to search for his own, he met them eagerly. Blue eyes met green as a wet sweater vest and collared shirt met the ground followed by a t-shirt baring the name of some American band just that didn't matter anymore. Arthur slipped out of his shoes and leaned fully into the man he raised so lovingly.

"Arthur," Alfred lifted the smaller man, cradling him in his arms like the most delicate of treasures, "I need you."

"Wha-What?" The words and the actions of the other man stunning him mostly to silence as he was forced to wrap his arms around the other's neck for fear of being dropped as Alfred, his Alfred carried him up the stairs. But the American would never drop him. Arthur would have struggled; he really would have, except it just felt too good to be entirely in the other's arms. His heart won out this time in the war against his brain, and when the taller man set him down he didn't let go. Instead, he pressed his lips to the other's. He'd be damned if he let Alfred leave him again. Ever.

Their kisses became more desperate, searching, exploring each other's mouths, while their hands did plenty of exploring of their own. Soon pants and boxers created a new pile of discarded items on the floor as Alfred eased his lover back onto his bed running kisses down his chest and stomach, nipping teasingly at the inside of his thighs.

"Please Alfred, don't tease." Arthur pleaded, green eyes taking in every inch of the other's body. The American merely smirked in reply sliding one finger into the other's entrance soon accompanied by another curling and pushing in and out until Arthur could no longer feel any pain, only white hot pleasure as he felt the other brush up against the bundle of nerves that sent sparks up his spine. "How can I not tease you, when your reactions are so beautiful." Purred Alfred, who was indeed drinking in every twist and turn Arthur made, every small whimper and moan egging him on impossibly more. "Alfred must you make me, beg you git? I need you now!"

The urgency in the English man's voice was all Alfred needed to hear. He leaned down, their faces inches apart, and whispered softly to the other while guiding his length deep into his lover's body.

"I love you. Know that I love you. Believe me. I love you."

He repeated it like a mantra penetrating Arthur's sex induced haze. The green eyed man cried out with pleasure at each thrust, drilling those words in deeper and deeper. Then he found himself no longer convincing himself they were true. Alfred really meant it. He had always loved this man, he just did have the strength to say it. And now Arthur truly believed that he was loved. And truly loved his hero back.

When orgasm came, they came together. Each with the other's name on their lips and blue eyes locked with green. And as exhaustion over took them, they were no longer alone, Arthur curled contently into Alfred's chest as they both drifted off into a beautiful sleep that needed no dreams. In each of their minds, they were living their dream.

"Alfred," Said Arthur fighting off sleep for a minute longer.

"Humm?" Came the sleep fogged answer.

"I love you too."