My Stalker My Protector
A/N: So! This is something new to me because I am dealing with Gender Bent characters and an uncommon pairing! I hope you all enjoy it though!
Pairing is! Male!Belarus/England!
I wrote this because I was influenced by RedWolf95! Thank you so much!
This is AU so human names will be used! This is rated T, contains minor domestic abuse but nothing graphic! Some cursing (which if you are over 14 you should have no problem with that in today's society lol) Drinking and other bad habits!
If you couldn't guess from the title, this also includes Stalking!
If any of this offends people then don't read!
The rating may go up but for right now, T is good!
NOW ON WITH THE STORY!
He never really liked tall people. He really didn't and it wasn't because he was shorter than them, that was a petty concern. He hated them for an entirely different reason. Oh, but don't get him wrong, some tall people were good, he knew a few that were certainly decent. It still didn't change the facts though. Arthur Kirkland really disliked tall people.
Sometimes, the reason for this dislike was easily visible while other times he could hide it well enough. No one knew that these marks were the reason though; they just thought he had some sort of a height complex! Sitting on this park bench while bandaging his arm reminded him exactly why he hated them. Tall people that is, not the bench.
Arthur Kirkland lived with his two brothers and no parents. His mother had died when he was around five years old in a car accident and their father died of a heart-attack around 5 years ago when Arthur was 12. When the old man had first died, they were at risk of being separated by their relatives and for an odd reason. They all had different mothers.
Arthur's mother was a British woman with blonde hair and blue/gray eyes. His father was a Scottish man with red hair and green eyes and that was the only things he got from his tall, burly father. Green eyes.
(Switching to Arthur's POV)
Next was Connor, his mother was Irish and he had the same red hair as his father with bright blue/green eyes with freckles dusting his nose. His mother was still alive but they didn't have a good relationship even though he doted on his younger half-brother who lived with his mother.
And finally, there was the eldest…Blair. Blair took after their father in every way, shape and form except in personality. The man was a right bastard he was. He drank too much and was violent when he was drunk and mad, which was most every day. His mother may or may not be alive, we are not sure for she never contacted us after Father died.
Back to the funeral, my mother's family tried to take me while dad's family wanted Blair and Connor. I clung to my brothers and cried, Blair telling me everything would be alright and Connor cooing softly to call my tears. The tall Scot stood up and glared at all of them, his brogue coming out thick with rage.
"Ya would separate us brothers for yer own selfish needs…Well screw ya all! I'll take care of Connor an' Artair, just ya wait an see!"
Sure enough, the lad did a fine job of taking care of us. He got himself a job, he used the insurance money to pay off the house so we didn't have to pay the mortgage and he made sure we had food and clothes. Connor got a job the next year and between the two full time workers, we were set. The only thing they had asked of me was that in their stead, I make something of myself and always do good in school which I was more than obliging of.
It wasn't until two years ago, when I was fifteen, that Blair started drinking heavily. I won't make any excuses, the man drank like a fish before that but he was never really a violent drunk, rather a daring and rough one. He had a girlfriend, a pixie like thing that reminded me of my imaginary friends (they are not imaginary but everyone else seems unable to see them!) who told him she was pregnant.
Now Blair was a good man and he would have done anything for this girl…if the story was true that is. As it turned out…it wasn't all that true considering she wasn't pregnant. After that, Blair dumped her and started drinking in a different sense and he became increasingly violent. Connor was his original target, the slightly shorter the Blair Irishman seeming easy for all his wiry muscle.
Things didn't go that way and Connor was able to defend himself with weaponry more than brute strength. Not to say that Blair didn't get in a few cheap shots, but he did get parried off which left me as his next target…
This brings me to my main point. I couldn't hold him off, not that I am weak it comes down to the fact that he is much taller than I. Connor would try to protect me but there wasn't much he could do, either he let it happen and patched me up afterwards or he took the beating himself which he had done on more than one occasion.
We really couldn't hate our brother though…which is probably why, despite it all, we stayed with him. Personally I believe if Connor had a place to stay permanently, he would be gone in a heartbeat for as it was he stayed over at his friend's houses 80% of the time. On those days I would retreat tactfully to the park where I could bandage my wounds in peace.
Today was a particularly bad day considering Blair's best friend, a welsh man from work, had stopped by. This man was especially violent and would purposely instigate fights. It was him who stabbed me in the arm. Lovely I know and yes, I meant that very sarcastically. Lucky for me, Blair hadn't yet been drunk enough to allow everything and punched his friend while I ran for the door.
No one came after me, the never did so this was nothing new but I really hoped this wound wouldn't affect me tomorrow at school. It wasn't particularly deep but it hurt quite a bit and every time I moved my upper arm, it would hurt and start to bleed again. Tying the tourniquet tighter and standing slowly, I slowly made my way towards town and the 24 hour convenience store to pick up crazy glue.
I looked up quickly and saw Francis, the French bastard, manning the counter as I placed down the crazy glue and few more bandages.
'damn' "Hey…um, just this…"
Francis looked down and sighed before ringing me up. He was one of the only people who knew about Blair, mostly because he had been on the receiving end of one of those punches after being the frog pervert he was to me. We weren't really friends but we had a small amount of comradery after what happened. I took the bag and nodded my head before heading to the front to leave.
I certainly wasn't expecting to run into something hard or get grabbed rather harshly by whatever I walked into. My mind quickly supplied that it might be Blair but I knew better and as I looked into almost silver eyes, I was happy to be wrong.
"Would you mind removing your hands you Git!"
(third person POV again!)
What Arthur growled out probably wasn't the brightest but as he looked up…and up…and up into those silver eyes, he couldn't help it. Nothing good came from meeting tall people like this and this one was glaring rather fiercely. He certainly wasn't expecting this man to lean down and press his nose into Arthur's hair.
"You shmell like blad."
The thick accent that he couldn't quite place and the words he heard made him struggle more to pull away but this giant of a person wasn't letting go. It was the exact opposite actually. He grabbed Arthur by the wrist and drug him back into the store!
"Hey! Don't pull!"
It hurt like hell to have his arm pulled on like that as he stared at the back of the stranger. The long off white coat with black fur trim reached down to the knees of this silver haired man with matching eyes but that was all he could really see. He was even more surprised when the person tossed him into the bathroom of the store, locking the door behind them and turned those silver eyes on him.
Arthur fidgeted with the bag and could hear Francis banging on the door from the outside. Considering he had just been drug straight past the man he wasn't surprised.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Those eyes narrowed into a glare as their owner stalked forward and nearly ripped the buttons off of his shirt, exposing part of the bandage.
Arthur finally figured out what that must mean.
"Blood? You could…" he thought back to what this man had said before. "smell it?"
The man nodded and moved long pale fingers to undo the bandage. Arthur instantly went to smack those hands away but this man was having none of it as he fixed Arthur with a rather dark glare and revealed the wound.
"I'll fix it. Stay still."
Arthur watched in morbid fascination as this total stranger reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like an emergency sowing kit that had Cyrillic writing all over it. As soon as he saw it, he knew this person was Russian thus explaining the thick accent. Reaching into that winter coat again he pulled out a small flask.
(Back to Arthur POV)
He seems to think of something and, finally letting go of me, he pulls his gloves from his hands and motions to the sinks.
I climb up, fully removing my shirt which I don't want to get wet since I have to sit outside for a bit and scowl at the person.
"Who are you anyhow?"
Walking towards me and setting everything on the counter next to the sink, he nods his head and speaks.
"Well Nikolai, I'm Arthur Kirkland…"
It seemed only slightly awkward to be introducing himself at such and odd moment but it was the only thing he could think of as Nikolai examined the wound.
"Why are you helping me?"
Nikolai's silver eyes danced from the new wound over the other bruises on my body and back to my face.
"Blad." He said simply, as though that explained it all.
Realizing I wasn't getting anything else out of this man, I let him do what he would because it was better than crazy gluing it…even though this would probably hurt worse. Nikolai stood to his full height and picked up the flask, unscrewing the cap. I cringed at the smell of vodka as Nikolai held the open container closer.
"Disinfectant." was all he said before shoving his other hand into my mouth and dumping the contents of the container onto my wound.
I will instantly admit that this hurt, it hurt more than the actual wound! I could taste blood in my mouth as I bit deep into his hand but Nikolai didn't even flinch, he just waited as the burn slowly numbed.
I guess I must have eased up on his hand because he reached for the sowing kit and pulled out an already threaded needle. Somewhere in the back of my mind I noticed he was left handed as he gently pressed the needle back and forth through my flesh with practiced ease. The pain was mild as I watched him and when he was done, he gently removed his hand. Blood and saliva dripped down my chin, mixing with tears while Nikolai wetted down a paper towel and wiped at my face before standing back.
"Fixed. No infection, no permanent damage. Cut the stitches out in a few days."
I nodded and dressed slowly, my arm still numb. I didn't really want to say thank you to this weird person but I felt obligated to since he did help me.
"Thank you, um…for this."
Nikolai nodded and slipped his gloves back on before unlocking the door.
As I went to walk past him though, he whispered something that made me freeze for a second.
"Be more careful of men with knives. They can be dangerous…"
The glint in those silver eyes as I looked at him in shock unnerved me before I gathered my wits about me and stormed past him and Francis who was waiting outside. When I finally reached the cold night air, I calmed enough to wonder.
'How did he know it was a knife?'
Trudging home at what was now five in the morning, I hoped I could catch an hour or two of sleep before I had to get to school. Sneaking past my sleeping brother, I collapsed onto my bed and stared at the wall for a few seconds, my last thought being 'What a weird person to run into in December…'
If only I had known that weird would become normal just for me.
I hope you all enjoyed this! I know it's a weird pairing but I absolutely LOVE Male!Bela with Arthur! It's just too cute!
This story is my play thing and since it is my first fic like this please be kind!