Hey! So this is going to be a multi-chapter fic. It's basically a bunch of USUK stories about Alfred and his relationship with Arthur. Some will be a bit stereotypical [Arthur's tsundere-ness] and others will be sides of Al that I haven't found a story on at all. I have some ideas, but basically this will be updated as my muse dictates. Which shouldn't be too bad since there isn't really a common plot that you'll have to wait on. :D

Enjoy!

Oh! and i don't own Hetalia. If i did... well... lets just say that some international relations would be a bit... different. *evil fangirl grin*

Also! Al gets drunk and you may not be able to understand his slurring. For those readers that don't have english as their first language, or if you just can't understand my typing, I have a translation down at the bottom.

Now Enjoy!

Arthur knew it was a bad idea to bring Alfred to the party.

"Hey! I'm Alfred, but you can call me Al", yelled Alfred to Arthur's friend, Mara. Arthur couldn't believe his rudeness. With no consideration for polite conversation, Alfred just ran right up to her like a little kid, not even waiting for Arthur to introduce them. Now Alfred was chatting to her so loud that Arthur was sure everyone in the room could hear his boyfriend going on and on about the militaristic properties of zombies. Arthur was going to kill him. He just spent twenty minutes going over proper English manners in the car. England rested his head in his hands. He should have known that Alfred would stick out like a sore thumb. This was a terrible first impression for his friends. Now Arthur would hear all about how his boyfriend turned out to be a brutish American. Oh god. Alfred just rearranged the place cards on the table.

"Alfred! What are you doing!" He hissed at the American, yanking him back by his collar.

"Jeez, Arthur, I was just moving the seats around. I haven't really got to talk to Mara so I figured I'd switch us around so that I could sit next to her. Nobody'll notice!" He said, grinning.

Arthur just stared at him. "Alfred Jones! You cannot just switch seating arrangements! And its 'nobody will' not 'nobody'll'." He hissed. Alfred took no notice of him and went off to go talk to someone. Yet again, rudely inserting himself into the conversation of others, not even bothering to ask Arthur to introduce them.

"Hey Artie!"

Oh god. He did not just call him that inane nickname in front of all his friends. Arthur was going to strangle him. "Artie, co-"

Some will later claim that it was just a gust of wind or that something was thrown across the room, but the only thing Al remembers feeling is a metal bar collide with his stomach and the feeling of being whisked backwards out of the back door. The next thing he knew he was outside being shaken violently by Arthur. "What is wrong with you?You bloody wanker! Are you trying to embarrass me as much as possible? Poland would have been a better date than you! At least he would have been charming! You are just annoying, selfish, little hob knocker! I can't believe how you acted,-"

"Artie" America looked down at his shoes.

"-I mean, I don't even think you tried to be likeable! Is this some kind of stupid scheme to get me to leave early? Do you really hate my friends that much? I mean I knew you were childish-"

"Artie."

"-but this is a whole new level! You couldn't have acted more like a brat that needs to be disciplined if you tried! I take that back, YOU could! Why are you so immature? Really! It's inconceivable that you couldn't notice how annoying you are-" Arthur stopped.

Alfred was crying. He was trying to hide it, but England could tell when America was crying. "Al?" he said, gentler this time. "I didn't…"

"N-No, Arthur, you're right. I'm just a d-dumb little kid. I should g-go." And he runs off. Arthur sighs. He didn't mean half of what he said. Stupid, stupid England, Arthur cursed himself internally, now Alfred was going to go and get himself lost in London. Probably end up on the other side of the Thames by morning.

"Eejit. You'd better go after him. Or you're never getting invited to any of my parties again." Mara remarked from behind him.

"I didn't mean to, Mara. It's just… I was worried that everyone wouldn't like him and they'd make some sharp remark and he wouldn't know that he was being made fun of. I just wanted to keep him from getting hurt." Arthur sighed, still looking off into the direction his lover had run, as if he could see his frame still.

"Clearly you did a bang up job. I don't think the other guests were the ones you had to worry about." She put her hand on his back and pushed him forward a bit. "I think you'd better go get him before he disappears into a pub with all the other jilted lovers. Then he'll be near impossible to find." She started to walk back inside.

England turned toward his car, fumbling with his keys. "Honestly, I don't think Al could blend in if he tried." he mumbled to himself as he got into his car.

" I take that back" remarked Arthur to no one in particular as he squirmed his way out of the billionth pub of the night. Four hours of pub hopping and still no sign of that blond American. "I sure hope to god he isn't in any club, because it would take forever to convince each bouncer to let me in" Arthur shook his head. There was just one more bar that he had brought Alfred to. Arthur hoped that Alfred would go somewhere that he'd been to, or else it would take years to search through each pub in London. As he pushed the pub's door open, Arthur immediately recognized the voice, far too loud for indoors and singing ridiculously off-key, that was wailing along to some song playing in the pub.

"Jus' a small tawn girrrl! Livin' in a lonely wu-hurld!" Alfred howled, oblivious to the glares of all the other patrons, clearly intoxicated. Arthur sighed. He could tell just how drunk Alfred was by how thick his Southern accent was. "Took the midnigh' train goin' AN-Y-WHERE!" As he got closer, Arthur counted two bottles of Southern Comfort sitting next to him, one empty and one almost empty. God, he is going to whine all day tomorrow. Alfred is such a baby when it comes to hangovers.

"HAY! Is' you!" Oh god. America spotted him "You bastard! Ah was jus' trayn' ta' make your friends like me, andja' jus' had ta go an' say tha' shet! Yurra jerk! Ya shoulda been nicer ta' me." England sped up and was quickly over to America. Not that his closeness had any effect on the volume at which Alfred was speaking.

"I'm really sorry Alfred. I didn't mean to say those things, I just wanted my friends to like you-" At this Alfred toppled off his barstool and on to Arthur.

"Ah furgive ya. Ah missed ya sow much. I thought that you abandin'd me for those damn Brits." At this, everyone within hearing distance [aka everyone, since the bar wasn't all that crowded] glared even harder at Alfred, who was now sticking his face into Arthur's hair, and thus couldn't notice them."Wit' their damn fancy tea 'n crumpets. Haha. Crumb-pits. Like arm-pits" Gritting his teeth, Arthur dragged the drunk and hysterical Alfred out the door, hollering at the bartender to put it on his tab. He pulled him out of the door before Al started squirming around and pushing away from his arm. "Wai' a minute! I'm supposed ta be mayd at you!"Arthur sighed. He was going to have to use the big guns.

"But Alfie!" Arthur internally cringed at using Al's ridiculous nickname. "A true hero always forgives his love interest." Arthur sniffed, just for added effect.

His reaction was instantaneous. Alfred's knees literally went weak and he looked up at Arthur with huge eyes and a grin large enough to rival the Cheshire cat. "Raght! An' I'm the truest true hero tha' there ev'r was. Sow ah will furgive ya!" Alfred grabbed him around his chest, nearly knocking the Briton over. "I luve ya, Artie! An' I'm sorry. Ah can be lawd and obinock… obnequ… obnoshi… ya know what I'm trayn' ta say…"

Arthur sighed. "Don't worry about it, just know that I'd pick a loud, obnoxious you over anyone else any day of the week. Let's go home."

"Sounds good. Iss' good that ya luve me, cause ah make yurr life more excitin'." Alfred grinned up at his lover, who was trying to drag him to his car without letting Al get a face-full of sidewalk.

"Sure, if that's what you want to call it…"

If you couldn't understand Al's drunk southern accent, here are the lines "translated":

"Jus' a small tawn girrrl! Livin' in a lonely wu-hurld! Took the midnigh' train goin' AN-Y-WHERE!" - Lyrics from "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey

"HAY! Is' you!"- "Hey it's you!"

"You bastard! Ah was jus' trayn' ta' make your friends like me, andja' jus' had ta go an' say tha' shet! Yurra jerk! Ya shoulda been nicer ta' me."- You bastard! I was just trying to make your friends like me and you just had to go and say that shit! You're a jerk! You should have been nicer to me!"

"Ah furgive ya. Ah missed ya sow much. I thought tha' ya abandin'd me for those damn Brits."- "I forgive you. I missed you so much. I thought that you abandoned me for those damn Brits."

"Wit' their damn fancy tea 'n crumpets. Haha. Crumb-pits. Like arm-pits"- "With their [the Brits'] damn fancy tea and crumpets. Haha Crumb - pits. Like arm - pits"

"Wai' a minute! I'm supposed ta be mayd at you!"- "Wait a minute! I'm supposed to be mad at you!"

"Raght! An' I'm the truest true hero tha' there ev'r was. Sow ah will furgive ya!" - "Right! And I am the truest true hero that there ever was. So I forgive you!"

"I luve ya, Artie! An' I'm sarry. Ah can be lawd and obinock… obnequ… obnoshi… ya know what I'm trayn' ta say…" - "I love you, Artie! And I'm sorry. I can be loud and... [he then attempts to say "obnoxious"]... you know what i'm trying to say..."

"Sownds gud. Iss' gud that ya luve me, cause ah make yurr life more excitin'." - "Sounds good. It's good that you love me, because i make your life more exciting."