A/N: So I know I haven't put anything fan wise up in awhile, and I'm probably going to get a lot of people asking about my HidaSaku and GaaSaku stories as well. Give me a little more time. I'll mostly only be able to update such things only on breaks now; I just started my junior year of high school, and since I fucked my grades up my first 2 years, I have to hold strong and get classes done and over with. That probably makes you think, "Then how can you do this?". Simple: IT'S STUCK IN MY HEAD AND WILL. NOT. GO. AWAY! X( I hate it when this happens… (It's also a one-shot)

But this is something new for me. SAY HELLO TO MY FIRST EVER HETALIA ATTEMPT! XD Pray for me. I just got into the series, and I am insanely in love with this couple. The emotional depth of UsXUk to me is absolutely mind blowing. A fanflash by kittymimi200 on youtube inspired this. It her UsXUk flash when you're gone. If you type that in exactly, you'll find it… hopefully.

APH is the property of its genius creator Hidekaz Himaruya! :D

ON WITH THE SHOW!

Why was this happening? Why? And why, of all people was it him doing this? England stared into the hard, determined face of his colony. His throat seized up and suddenly, the Brit's rain soaked uniform was even colder. Arthur felt as if his soul was being cast down to Hell as America turned and strode away, his volunteer troops following. As he kneeled on the ground, England heaved a loud sob, hearing it break from his throat; America didn't even glance back.

He looked up, barely being able to see in his pitiful condition.

"Please… Amer-Alfred… Please, God don't go…" He said. Whether the American heard him or not was not known; because even then, England got no second glance. Arthur gritted his teeth, and slammed his hand into the muddy ground beneath him; one of his knuckles ricocheted of a sharp stone. He barely noticed.

The only thing or person he'd ever cared about, other than his people, had just upped and left him; like it was no big deal.

Arthur secretly promised himself, that never again would he trust that American. That Alfred F. Jones.

With a start, Arthur shot up in bed, sweat dripping from his brow. With a groan he ran his hand through his hair. Every bloody year, the same dream…

"This is getting quite aggravating…" Arthur heard himself mumble. Out of habit, he glanced at his clock. Barely 6 A.M. and with the meeting only an hour away, England figured he might as well stay awake. That was how he caught sight of the date; he realized why he'd had the dream, as if having an epiphany.

It was the 4th of July. It was that bloody git's birthday, and the day of the World Conference, no less. With sloth style movements, Arthur stood, and strode to his window. The desk next to it held a picture; a picture of him and Alfred after they'd "patched things up"; after all, things were still quite tense between the two, even if they only noticed it.

Arthur sighed, noticing the darkening clouds in the distance, and the way the wind blew harshly against the hotel he was staying in for the week. There would be a storm.

In more ways than one probably…

After a smooth shower, Alfred dressed and switched on the television to see the news for the afternoon, hoping to catch the weather. Unfortunately, every other news channel seemed to be filled with that idiot's face. Why on Earth had Germany thought it would be a good idea to have the conference in America, on the moron's birthday, too. That meant he'd have to listen to America boast more about his freedom and Independence than usual. Like always, a sharp stab flew through England's breast. So instead of having his morning tea, he knocked back a few alcoholic beverages the room service had brought to him. It was called Smirnoff Ice. It didn't taste too bad, and after just about 45 minutes, 4 empty bottles of the stuff were around the ground.

The effect wasn't immediate, so England made it to his awaiting taxi before it really started to kick in. He knew Smirnoff was some type of vodka, and he made a note to ask Russia about it later.

Surprisingly enough, England was the last one to arrive; this shocked some people because usually, he was the first one there. Then, as Arthur staggered his way to his seat, everyone knew why. The Brit was absolutely plastered.

France grimaced as England flopped into his chair. "Angelterre, are you ok? You don't look too hot, mon ami."

Arthur glared at the blonde. "Of course I'm- *hic*-fine, you bloody wanker. W-why wouldn't I be…?" He hissed. France left it at that. And so the meeting began.

America was unusually quiet the whole time, and didn't yell about it being his turn or anything. He calmly sat there, and listened while Germany said what he had to say. And that was pissing Arthur off more than he could even imagine. The Brit had been hoping that Alfred's obnoxious behavior would give him a reason to yell at the imbecile; but if this kept up, Arthur wouldn't get the chance. His attention was caught as Germany said something… Odd.

"America, since you've been quiet thus far, and have made no interruptions (for once…) you may speak next." He said in that stern German tone he ALWAYS uses with America.

England tensed, his buzz causing him to anticipate the next moment. But his irritation soon returned.

Alfred smiled thankfully. "Thank you, Germany." Calmly, the man stood and strode to the front of the room, and settled behind the podium. Everyone was a little shocked; but England was just plain pissed.

America smiled at the other nations. "I know you guys are expecting me to spout a bunch of shit about me being a hero, and protecting everyone and everything; but for once I'm not going to do that." He chuckled a little. "The fact is, I've been introducing some unrealistic solutions, and being an all around dick. But now, I think I've come up with something I can be proud to say I created."

The whole room was shocked into silence; even Greece had awoken from his nap. France smiled knowingly, and through his drunken stupor Arthur took note of it; the Frenchmen knew something.

"If we devote ourselves to turning some of our military funding to, say, trying to give every state/country a certain number of solar and wind farms, it could very well lighten our oil problems. Both resources are highly effective; we've been testing them for quite awhile now, and I think it would work." America explained. "And for countries who don't get much wind or sun, Hydro power would be the next best thing. Especially you, England."

Arthur looked up with narrowed eyes, but it seemed the American didn't notice; he just smiled. "With your climate and how much rain you get, hydro power would be very effective. I'm not saying-"

"Are you calling me DIRTY?"

America's eyes widened as England outright glared at him.

America furrowed his brows. "What? No, I was just-"

"Shut the fuck up, you git." England growled.

America's eyes hardened. "Look, Arthur, if you have something to say wait-"

"STOP ACTING SO HIGH AND MIGHTY!" Arthur yelled. His hands connected loudly with the table as he jumped to his feet. His breathing was a little labored from his drinks, and he instantly regretted his quick movements; they made his head swim.

"What's the big deal coming in here on your birthday, and suddenly acting like you know what you're doing? For as long as you've been a child, you can't just… suddenly be an adult! All you've ever been is a child playing pretend; that's all you'll ever be." England said. His voice rang out loudly through the silent room. "I remember when-"

America slammed his hands down on the podium, instantly shutting Arthur's mouth. "That's ENOUGH, England!" He yelled. His eyes narrowed on his former ruler. Several strong emotions played behind those shielded blue eyes; hurt, anger. "I've been independent now for 243 years; all I've been doing since then is playing. Now it's time to step it up. Because of me, almost every major nation is ahead of me academically. I'm failing my own future generation." England's eyes hardened, those 2 emotions intensifying. America continued. "I have to fix that; I have to BE the hero I boast about being. So don't treat me like you still own me." Alfred's eyes were cold steel by the time he finished talking. Arthur was… Mortified, I guess you could say. He was so mad, and embarrassed at himself; and there was a sharp pain from where Alfred had called him 'England', and not one of his many nicknames, or even his real name.

So England did the only thing he knew how to; he retaliated.

Eyes narrowed dangerously, he glared at America. "You think you're big enough to take me on again? Ok then, Brat. You know where to meet me; today, noon. No weapons." And with that, Arthur strode from the conference room; or at least tried to. He swayed a little (remember he's intoxicated).

America quickly took his place back in his seat, and said nothing else the entire meeting.

And the meeting promptly ended at 11. America was the first one gone.

It was 12:30 and England was worried the brat wasn't going to show after all. His buzz had finally dulled to the point he could think more logically, and a sense of strong shame washed over his consciousness. He had always wanted America to become stronger, more mature. And when it finally happened, Arthur had been an ass about it.

He sighed and looked up at the dark sky. Though it was only noon it felt like night; the storm clouds hovered dangerously overhead. The rolls of thunder could be heard every few minutes. The wind howled, and trees groaned under the strain.

Then there was a new sound: footsteps.

Arthur turned. His heart seized in his chest.

Alfred stood there, cold as stone. His eyes held so little emotion that it pained Arthur.

Yet again, Arthur made an ass of himself. "So you had the guts to show up, huh? Glad I instilled some form of courage in that thick skull of yours." He said.

"What do you want Arthur?" Alfred asked outright.

Arthur hesitated. "Why are you suddenly being so mature? What the fuck happened?"

Alfred stiffened suddenly. "That's none of your damn business England."

So we're back to countries then, are we?

England smirked. "On the contrary America, I believe it is."

Alfred's eyes flared. "No it's not! I'm not your colony, England! I'm not a child either! When will you see that?" His tone had an underlying tone of sadness to it.

"Maybe," Alfred said suddenly. "You're the real child."

That was why Alfred got punched in the face. Though much older than America, England could brawl with the best if needed. And right now it was much needed.

Fists, and feet flew, with both managing to land several good hits before they rolled away from each other. America had lost Texas in the dirt somewhere, and his lip was bleeding slightly; England didn't look much better, but what hurt most wasn't the physical pain, but the emotional. The boy he'd raised, protected, and then had to let go… utterly loathed him. All of a sudden, it was like he was back in his dream. A loud crash of thunder sounded over head, and the rain began to pour.

"Why…?"

America focused on him.

"Why are you doing this now, after so long?" Arthur yelled. He felt his eyes well up, and the tight constricting of his throat hurt.

All he heard was a growl, and he soon found himself pushed up against one of the nearby boulders. America had his wrists restrained above his head, and Arthur couldn't tear his shocked gaze away from the blue eyes boring into his own. With the flash of lightning behind him, America looked slightly evil.

"You want to know why?"

England piped up as America spoke, eager for some kind of answer that would make his unending hurt disappear.

Alfred leaned in near Arthur's ear, and Arthur shivered when America's breath tickled him.

"Because I'm trying to make you see me as an equal."

England jolted from the revelation. America continued. "I'm tired of you seeing me as a child. I'm a country now, I have been for years; but you never really acknowledged me. Not how I've wanted you too." The hurt was evident in his voice.

Arthur was thoroughly shocked. The boy thought he had no feelings for him? How absurd was he?

"I like you Arthur. I have for years."

NOW Arthur could definitely say that nothing else in the world could surprise him.

America pulled back to look at England's face, and when he saw the shocked look on his face, America took it as a sign of rejection.

He smiled. "I know you can't stand me, but I just couldn't help myself. I'm sorry for hitting you. Bye Arthur."

England watched as he began to walk away. America like him? Like, romantically? And like a child seeing their first snow, Arthur's face lit up in realization. That explained the pain of him leaving; why that dream always came around. He was in love with Alfred.

"W-wait!" Arthur called.

America stopped, and turned slightly.

England blushed furiously, and turned his eyes away a little under Alfred's intense gaze. "I-I like… you too, Alfred…"

Suddenly, he was in the air, spinning. America was laughing heartily, and England turned ten shades of red, and then some.

"Y-you idiot…! Put m-me down…!" Arthur said forcefully. With another chuckle, Alfred set him down. Right onto his lips. England was shocked at the boys confidence, but remained silent; with equal vigor, he threw himself into the kiss.

When the need for air became necessary (They couldn't breathe through their noses or they sucked in rain), the two broke apart, and stared at each other for awhile. America suddenly chuckled.

What are you laughing about, you git?" England said smacking him slightly.

Alfred shook his head. "I'm just glad it worked, and I wasn't left utterly humiliated."

Arthur cocked his head. "What worked?"

Alfred grinned. "France told me you liked guys in control, so I became that. I need to make sure to thank him."

END! ^_^

I'm kind of ok with it I guess. I've never done a one shot before, so I don't really like the ending; but for my fist yaoi fic, I'm pretty damn pleased with myself. BTW, the place they met was Yorktown, somewhere in the more wilder parts. Let me know if you guys think it's a little rushed cause I kind of feel like it is; but I've never done this before so I don't know. You may be able to expect a GermanyXItaly out within the next like 6 months (lol) I have a basic idea; Italy finally annoys Germany to breaking point, and Germany takes out the frustrations on out favorite Italian. Sexually of course. X)

Well, Then yeah. That's it. Bye-Bye!