A/N: Just on a major UsxUk kick at the moment. Series isn't mine and all that fun stuff. Enjoy!

"I need you more than you know and I could never let you go."

Liquor always made the yearning stronger.

And as things currently stood, there was a lot of liquor currently rushing through Arthur Kirkland's veins. He'd somehow wrestled the emerald bottle from the barkeep and was swigging away happily as he ranted in some nonsense tone that no one could quite understand. He teetered dangerously on the edge of his bar stool, hiccuping and shaking the bottle with a vigor in an effort to somehow conjure more precious liquid inside.

There was no such luck for the man though. He was never a man gifted with luck of any sort. That was just the cards that he'd been dealt and he'd be damned if he was gonna let that get him down. All the same... He wanted some more of whatever the hell it was he'd been drinking for the past three hours.

"No more, you're bloody drunk." The surly barkeep grumbled this at the wavering man who had been glaring at him with his bloodshot eyes that were normally the same color of the battle he held in his hand. Now they were blurry with the effects of the drink, his disheveled blonde hair falling haphazardly across them as his thick brows drew together in agitation.

"I'm the one," a hiccup momentarily silenced him, "Who's paying you here you git, you'd...do well...to just give me the...damn drink." His words slurred together but the barkeep was well used to men of this sort. They frequented his dark corners often enough for him to recognize the signs. The men that had given up on life, the ones that thought the truth to all of the world's questions lay at the bottom of a bottle.

They were all the same.

"Listen to me now buddy, I've let you stink up my bar for a vast majority of the evening, you're lucky I didn't throw you out on your hide earlier. Thankfully I was up for earning a few extra pounds, now you've gone and aggravated me, get yourself home." Like the burly man would understand what he was thinking. Arthur grinned, proffered the man the international symbol of displeasure and then smashed the empty bottle against the wall just over the man's head.

"I don't wan't anymore of your awful drink...anyway!" He wavered on his feet, stumbling forward in anxiety when it appeared as if the man was going to jump over the bar and beat the living daylights out of him. There was a good deal of cheering as he stumbled towards the door and straight into a new patron. "Watchwhereya going you bloody idiot." He shoved the man away from him so he could get by, only to find that the taller figure grabbed him by that same arm and toss him up against the wall with a quick soldier's movements.

"That's not very nice of you. I thought you Englishmen were supposed to have manners." The force of the movement had knocked the breath out of him, his bleary bloodshot eyes flickered up in the lazy way of the inebriated and he smiled vaguely.

"Mos't of us aren' when we've been..." He struggled for a moment to find the right word. "Thirsty." The man that had him pinned to the wall let out a loud peal of laughter that made him cringe.

"I'd say you're more than thirsty dude!" Oh that accent... He was most definitely a tourist, an Americantourist. They always were the worst. "Looks like you must've had a reason though." Arthur tried to get a steady identification of this crazy man but all he could see was a tall blur with a head of messy gold hair. Just his luck... drunk and attempting conversation. At this time he just wanted to get his sorry butt home and into his bed.

He'd have plenty to suffer through in the morning without drinking with this American bloke on top of everything else. Gently he attempted to push the man away from him.

"No, thanks." This earned another peal of that brash laughter, it made him feel as if though he was turning red from his ears to his toes. He thought he heard the bartender say something about if they were going to carry on like queers then they needed to take that outside. He really hoped that wasn't what he'd heard... It's not like he hadn't heard it before.

But as he'd often said before, liquor made the yearning stronger. The man shouted something back to the barkeep and before Arthur was quite aware of what was happening he was being dragged out of the same door he'd been heading towards only moments ago. It was that stupid American dragging him out into the harsh winter wind. Arthur didn't like the winter on a normal basis, but for some reason he didn't feel so cold just yet, even though he'd forgotten his coat back at the office.

"Are all of you Brits so uptight?" The taller man seemed to grin, or at least it kind of seemed like it, his eyes still wouldn't focus so well.

"Of course. That's whatall o' you think of us isn' it? All of you are the same..." He began to stumble down the sidewalk, hoping the cold air would knock some clarity back into his head. This was a tender subject as it was, he didn't need some stupid tourist telling him what he'd only heard a few months ago from that damned Frenchman. Spend a few years with a man and you would think that he'd have gotten over your obsessive habits... But nooo, Francis was a "free spirit", he had to roam.

To Jenny, Marlene, Emily, Anne. Women the lot of them. Probably had a few other men in there as well but he preferred not to think about it. Sometimes he still liked to imagine that what he'd had there was something good... Ha. If anything it made him worse than he'd been before. And why the hell was that damned tourist following him?

"You're a funny guy, how about I give you a ride home?" One of those hands that had restrained him landed heartily on his back, Arthur had to resist the urge to vomit all over his favorite shoes. Instead he glared over at the still blurry man.

"Why the hell do you think I would want that?" He felt like he had sandpaper in his throat, like he was choking on the words even as they scratched his vocal cords raw. Again the man laughed, did he just find every bloody thing hilarious?

"So you don't end up in another bar... Or an alleyway. Call it a heroic deed." He held out his hand with a thumbs up, that much he could make out. Arthur immediately deduced that this man was a complete loony. Completely and utterly off his rocker. But then again... The idiot did have a point, and he doubted he had money for any transportation home at all.

"Fine." For a moment the tourist stood there as if shocked by his quick acquiescence. How like an American, they offered help and then never followed through. Almost as bad as the French... Almost. "Or not, you bloody idiot." He turned again to continue on his slightly steadier journey down the sidewalk. It was only within a few loud strides that the tourist had overtaken him.

"Sorry, i was surprised, no one ever actually lets me help em' out around here." Well, now that his vision was just slightly sharper thanks to the frigid temperatures he could make out the spark in deep blue eyes and a very pleasant smile on the tourist.

"If you offer," a hiccup, "don't be surprised when someone... actually accepts." He combed a hand quickly through his messy hair, feeling suddenly ashamed of his appearance. Not that he really should. He was not hitting on this tourist. He was drunk and just getting a ride home. Who cared if the warm liquor in his veins had him feeling a bit more confident than normal, it didn't change the fact that he was Arthur bloody Kirkland and that he was, according to his ex, "a complete and utter tightass".

"Sure thing dude! Just don't freak out at my driving... I'm still not quite used to your weird cars around here yet." That really was just his luck, well, lack there of. This guy already had proven himself to be completely crazy, cute in a really weird drunken way, but still... He must have been insane to be going along with this.

Suddenly a grand idea struck him, just a bit of internal vindication. Francis liked to think he lacked any spontaneity, any sense of his "free spirit", he'd show that asshole! A leery sort of grin settled over his face that was considered handsome by some.

"Should be fun, dude." It felt weird to use the American's slang, but it kind it was also weirdly liberating in the same breath. Once again he found the taller man's arm slung carelessly over his shoulder as he began steering him down the familiar and mostly empty sidewalk. It didn't stop the other travelers from giving them weird looks over their scarves, but he really couldn't bring himself to care.

Must've been the liquor. He hadn't ever let Francis do something like this, he'd kept everything looking strictly professional in public. It was the true English thing to do.

"So how do ya like it here? I mean I figure you've probably lived her for like ever, but is there a buncha cool stuff? I always wanted to come see London, but you know so far a lot of you Brits are really rude, no offense or anything... It's just I thought you would be a bit more fun, I mean in all of the movies I've seen..." Arthur rubbed his forehead in between his finger and his thumb, this guy never shut up. Well at least he could just ignore him, stare at the kind of cute smile, the coolly confident stride and the warm arm still companionably slung over him.

He reminded himself to never drink again.

"Could you not so talk much?" Arthur stumbled a bit, his ability to concentrate seemed to be slipping in and out. "I don' feel so good...dude." This seemed to earn a more exasperated laugh, but it was a gentle one. Not condescending or anything, just amused at his plight. Arthur's brows drew together in frustration as he attempted to glare sternly at the taller man.

"No problem man, I talk a lot when I'm nervous..." Well that was a surprise. He never would have guessed that the man was nervous. Or at least, that he would admit to it. Must have been the easy trust of dealing with a drunk man that would most likely have no recollection in the morning. Thankfully enough the man increased their pace when a vaguely familiar parking garage came into view.

They were only a block away from the apartment that Francis still had in town. An evil idea that never should have even come to mind suddenly seemed like utter perfection. Arthur grinned and halted suddenly in his stumbling steps. He prayed that even though, drunk as he obviously was, he still had some of the charm that he supposedly possessed.

"Could I ask you another quick favor?" He hated the low grate that the liquor had caused in his voice, he smiled to cover up for his discomfort. "I...have a friend that lives just down the block, could we stop there first? I have...I have..." Man his brain was feeling really fuzzy again, couldn't possibly be a good sign. "I have something important I need to tell him." The American's blonde brows drew together in a surprisingly studious expression.

"Is that such a good idea man? I mean you are pretty smashed." It was obvious that he didn't very much enjoy denying Arthur, he was trying to be helpful. Unfortunately for him, Arthur had a way better use for his time. He moved just a little closer to the American, his hand placed subtly on the front of his dark blue sweater.

"It's really important, you have my word as an Englishman." A slightly hesitant smile slid across the taller man's face, but it was quickly obvious that he wasn't going to deny his comrade anything.

"Fine fine. Can't turn away an interesting guy like you." Again he found that arm tossed around his shoulders as they made their way to a very...interesting looking vehicle. Like a sportscar of some kind or another. It was more than a little bit of a surprise. Apparently this guy was pretty well off, had a nice job or something. He shouldn't have found that an attractive quality, but he did.

"Thanks..." It suddenly came to mind that he didn't know the man's name. Though, it would be foolish for him to ask now. Well, it wasn't like he was going to seem him again after this strange night was over. With a grin he watched as the man actually opened the car door for him... It was oddly sweet. What a shame that they'd met under these circumstances, he could really have...

He really shouldn't have been having those thoughts. It had been a lucky coincidence that lead him here. And he was going to use him to get back at that douchebag Francis. That's what it really boiled down to. Why he'd been in that rundown bar to begin with. All because he was still pining over that frilly, loose, manner-less jerk. It really was pathetic to say the least. His thoughts were interrupted the moment he slid into the passenger seat and the man was filling the silence once more.

"Okay, so you're gonna have to give me directions, you can remember where your friend is, right? Are you sure he's even home, I mean it is a Friday night after all and I don't know about you Brits, but back home most everyone liked to go partying on Fridays..." Arthur found himself putting his head in his hands and grumbling his response. This had to pay off in the end. Otherwise he'd probably never be able to stop...

"When you pull out of the garage, take a right. Follow that street down to the first light, take another right and then the house will be the third on the left. It'll be all decked out in Christmas lights." That was right, Francis had an obsession with making his house the brightest on the street. A townhouse lighting up one of the older parts of town, at first he'd found it vaguely charming. Funny even.

Now it just proved what he knew to begin with.

Francis was in it for the attention. It was always about attention for him. Having to have the nicest houses, the nicest cars, the nicest women to feed his ego. Hell he'd even had him, perhaps not the best prize, but still. He was a picky man, he had refined tastes and he had more than a little bit of trouble relating to people. When he'd first met Francis, well, he'd hated him. Saw everything that drove him crazy about men. Saw everything that he would never be.

And then he'd given in.

"Are you goin' to be okay man, you don't look so good." That harsh American accent pierced Arthur's moment of self-pity. He had to stay focused if this was going to have even the most remote chance of success.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just the drink taking hold." He made it sound like a bit of a joke, but with the way this man was driving it seemed he'd have no trouble explaining himself if he happened to spill his guts all over the vehicle. Apparently the American really didn't know how to drive. The man laughed, his head tilting back in a moment of pure amusement. There really was something vaguely attractive about him.

He shook his head to dispel the notion.

There was a harsh squealing of tires as the man took the second corner at break-neck speed, Arthur really was hard put to keep the contents of his stomach in order. And all the time the American was chuckling to himself. Handsome, but crazy. Yeah, there was no way that he was going to see this man again.

"Gotta have a sense of adventure man!" He was loud, and brash and just plain weird. Not his type at all. At least Francis had his moments of refinement. Damn. He really had to get that guy out of his head. Well... Now was the time, that house was in view. The lights were glaring, a technicolor massacre. Just like they always were. There were some things that would just never change. Arthur took a moment to regain his breath.

"I. Do. Thank you very much." His deep green eyes seemed to be a tad clearer, or at least that's how they looked to the American. It was an improvement at least. "How about you, would you like to meet my, err, " Arthur nearly choked on the word, "Friend." The man's face seemed to light up, it seemed there was nothing that did not amuse him in some way or another. How nice it must be to have such a light spirit.

He stumbled out of the car, the ground didn't want to stay still beneath his feet. He couldn't believe he was here, that he was going to really see... That he was finally going to be able to get even the tiniest hint of revenge. Dizziness overwhelmed him, but in hardly a moment's time there was that warm hand at his back and that loud voice at his ear.

"You sure, you're alright?"

"Never better." He grimaced at the words, taking a confident stride forward now. This was it. There was something that spoke volumes of the man he was in the way he moved now. Long strides, unwavering even though it was obvious that the drink had done well to cloud his mind. Somehow he managed to make it up that sidewalk, up those front steps, all without falling. He stopped at the door though, turning to proffer a wink to the boistrous man that had fallen a few steps behind him. "Well get up here, you're going to like this guy."

He sure hoped not. He hoped that he would be able to see through that heavy French accent and those leering smiles. A foolish ex's single wish for the tiniest hint of revenge on the man that had hurt him. There was perhaps one breath, in which the man first stood beside him and his fist pounded against the door where he felt that perhaps this wasn't the best idea in the world.

The sharp staccato sound of his knock made it quickly obvious that there was no turning back. Especially not when he heard a hearty chuckle followed by a voice that he'd really never wanted to hear again.

"I'm coming, don't run away mon cher!" Francis must've been expecting company. Well, wouldn't he be surprised? Nausea threatened to overtake him. " 'Ere I am, come in come in, it's a cold night and I'd hate for your lovely-" The man's voice cut short, bright blue eyes opened wide and he found himself stumbling for words. "Why, Arthur, I did not think...It's been...So nice...Who's your friend?" In that moment he was as utterly blindesided as his loathed ex had been. Surprisingly, the American managed to keep his mouth shut. Probably realized that it was rude to speak up.

That or he sensed there was something wrong with him. Neither seemed much like what he'd seen of the man thus far, but he was silently grateful for it. Even if his next words would throw everything into complete chaos. He gulped before turning his now vivid green eyes towards the man in the doorway who was nervously running a hand through his wavy gold hair.

"Francis," He stood a little straighter and fixed the collar of his shirt, "this is my...fiance." Again there was silence. For a much longer period of time now. All in which glances where desperately exchanged between all parties involved. It was awkward, terse... And for the American, completely and totally unexpected. How he managed to not utter a single word truly confused the now profusely blushing Arthur.

It was Francis to break the silence.

"I don't believe you." He crossed his arm, and a cruel smile had settled across his features. Not unlike the one he'd adopted when he'd broken up with Arthur. "Zere is something entirely too strange about this...even for you." Arthur opened his mouth to speak but found that the American was now speaking with a rapidity yet to be conceived.

"Hey there buddy! You'd better believe it! Kinda sudden, but this guy's a total romantic! Shoulda seen him, love at first sight and everything. A little weird at first, but hey bro, who could resist him?" Arthur was officially mortified. The man had actually gone and said it. Had lied for him. Had covered his ass for no apparent reason. Francis's glower only seemed to deepen at those words, mostly upon seeing the heinous blush falling across Arthur's face.

"He is not much of a romantic. I do believe he 'as fooled you little boy." Now that really cut. Of course Francis didn't stop there, not with that dark spark in his blue eyes. " Zis man is an uptight asshole. He can hardly stand to 'ave someone 'olding his 'and much less loving zem at first sight. It's just not in his nature." That last part seemed to have been added as if it would soften the blow. If anything... It hurt more. Arthur was feeling dizzy again, he wobbled on the front step caught somewhere between wanting to throw his guts up and wanting to punch Francis straight in his smug face.

Surprisingly enough, the American smiled.

"Must be that you didn't treat him right. You musta been one awful boyfriend for him to act like that. This is the kindest dude I've ever met! He's spontaneous and hilarious. Not to mention one hell of a lover, though I somehow doubt you knew that." Before Arthur could open his mouth to foolishly ruin the charade he'd been grabbed around the waist by those warm hands. He'd been pulled up and then he was being kissed.

And it wasn't half bad.

This had to be the craziest night of his life. It was the American to pull away from him, to toss a playful grin and then turn towards Francis. All Arthur could do was stare.

"You're an idiot bro. Shoulda never let him go, cause he's all mine now." He didn't even give Francis a chance to reply,instead he tossed that arm around his shoulders and steered them back towards the car. Arthur couldn't think, couldn't breathe. What in the hell had just happened here? He'd never thought... Never planned. A complete and total stranger. Kissed him. In front of Francis.

He didn't even know his name.