Punk!EnglandxMale!Reader: This Song's for you.

He was your best friend. He was in a popular band that originally started out as nothing more than a garage band. You always watched him practice; it was almost like a past time for you, after all you were his biggest fan. His fame would never change how you felt about him nor would it stop you from being allowed to come to his practice sessions. You sat in silence, tapping your fingers against your chin, your (eye color) eyes never leaving your friend; Arthur Kirkland.

Arthur was enjoying himself to say the least. For the longest time, he had kept his passion for rock music hidden from the world but now everyone knew. Since he had been playing his guitar all morning with the band, his blonde hair was beginning to stick to his forehead from the sweat. He closed his green eyes as he licked his dry lips, tasting the salty liquid that dripped above his upper lip. Soon he had had came to a sudden stop, his eye glared at the blonde next to him.

"What the bloody hell, Alfred?" The British man inquired, walking over the other.

Alfred laughed, reaching his hand out to Arthur's shoulder and patted it rabidly. "Dude, relax. I think we should take a break anyways." With that, the American ran off heading for the exit.

"Wanker," Arthur mumbled, taking his guitar off of him and sat it down gently. He walked off the stage, turning to face you. "(Name), you're still here?"

You stood up from your chair and walked over to him, nodding your head. You rubbed the back of your head, causing yourself to mess up your (hair length & color) hair before putting your arm back at your side. "You caught me, Arthur. I'm still here. You made it seem like I'd go home, which I wouldn't because I enjoy listening to you."

He crossed his arms and looked away from you; he wanted to hide the small blush that had crossed his face from hearing you say that. It wasn't like it was the first time he had heard you praise him like that but for some reason the thought of it embarrassed him. "Thanks. So, are you hungry?"

"Yes," You muttered, nervously running your finger along the pocket of your jeans. The two of you began walking out the studio; you turned to look at your friend. "Say, Arthur, do you regret this getting out? Does the fame bother you?"

Arthur was silent for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not all that bad. I get to do what I like."

"Oh." Was all you could manage to get out. In reality, you had really wanted to ask him if he'd still be your friend even though he was famous and you weren't. On second thought, you wanted to tell him that you loved him and you had always loved him but you were afraid that it would ruin your friendship or he'd think it was weird that you did.

--

It was finally the day that Arthur and his band would make their grand entrance into the world of rock music. You had asked him several times before if he wanted you to come to the concert but every time he was about to answer he had gotten interrupted or dragged off by the manager or Alfred. You never got a definitive answer, but you had gotten a ticket anyways.

"(Name), what are you doing here?" Arthur called out to you, making his way over to you. He was showing his British pride, wearing a scarf with the British flag on it. It seemed a little out of place with the rest of his outfit, which only consisted of a plain black shirt and a pair of red pants.

"I came to see you play." You replied, giving him a smile.

A light blush dusted his cheeks at that moment as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Thanks. But, I thought the manager had told you, you shouldn't show up here?"

A shocked look crossed your face; you didn't hear anything like that. You reached your arms out to Arthur and grabbed a hold of him, pulling yourself closer to him. You buried your face in to the crook of his neck, shaking your head. "No…it has to be a lie."

The British man tried to push you off of him as he kept from facing you; he clenched his teeth before he hit you. "Bloody hell, (Name), let go of me! Can't you see you're not good for me if you're here?" It was a lie, a bold faced lie. He was never good a showing his true feelings nor did he want you to know them.

Hearing such words come from your friend's lips, you let go of him. You never once thought you'd hear him tell you that it wasn't good for you to be around. It hurt. You gave him a fake smile, "Alright, Arthur. I'll see you later." You gave him a small wave and a thumbs up for luck as you walked away from him.

--

On stage with his band, Arthur scanned the audience with his green eyes. He had removed the scarf he was wearing, figuring it would get too hot on stage if he wore the entire show. He bit his lower lip as his hands rested nervously on his Union Jack guitar. His eyes saddened a bit when he noticed that you listened to what he said earlier about not wanting you to be there.

"Hey, Arthur, are going to do anything?" Alfred asked, poking him on the side of the head.

"(Name)," he mumbled before looking at Alfred. He tensed up a bit, smacking the American's hand away from his head. "Stop it, you git!"

Nervously, you stood outside of the concert hall, swallowing hard as you opened the doors. Sure, Arthur had told you he didn't want you there but you still wanted to see him. You maneuvered around the crowd of people, trying to get yourself a little closer to your friend. You only hoped that you wouldn't hurt his performance in the end.

Looking back into the crowd, Arthur stopped fighting with Alfred. "(Name)," he said, grabbing a hold of microphone. "I can play now. This song's for you."

He looked over at Alfred, who nodded before they started to play. Rock music filled the entire concert room, which caused the crowd to cheer and dance where they were standing.

After the concert had ended, you headed toward the back stage, hoping that no one would see you. You wanted to talk to Arthur about what had happened earlier before the concert. You breathed a sigh of relief seeing Arthur, grabbing a hold of his arm. "Arthur, wait."

"(Name)? What is it?" Arthur inquired, being a little shocked by you being back stage.

"Earlier…you didn't mean any of that did you? About me not being good for you, you didn't mean it right? You couldn't even play until I showed up, right?" you asked him. You wanted to know.

He was silent for a moment, blushing lightly, as he looked away from you. "No, I didn't. It's not like I really wanted you to leave. W-what? It's not like I need you to be around for me play my music. I could have done just fine without you."

You couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as you could. Pulling back, you stared into his green eyes with you (eye color) ones, running a hand up into his blonde hair. "I know you're not the best at conveying your feelings, Arthur. But the truth is…I love you. I would have showed up either way."

Arthur huffed, "Bloody idiot," he said before he leaned a little closer to you and locked his lips with yours. He pulled back, keeping his eyes from looking at yours. "Yeah, me too."