I apologize for the delay and updating! :'D
I had to re-write this chapter about three times until I was satisfied with it so...
On another note, I'll be holding a poll on my page for what I should do after this arc (Which is a new one x3)
This might be my only update for August since I'm going into honor classes next year and I still have homework over the summer to finish.
But anyways, if you have the time, stop by on my profile to vote and take a look at the website for this story! It's a tumblr page so those who have one can be notified when a chapter goes up! ^^
Thank you all for your support and reading and keeping me motivated! :)
Love you all~


Brothers

Fandom(s): Captain America and Hetalia: Axis Powers

Characters: Alfred F. Jones (Hetalia) and Steve Rogers (Captain America)

Genre: Friendship/Drama/Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort

Raiting: T

Summary: Steve Rogers has known his uncle Alfred Jones ever since he could remember. He was always there for him, even when no one else was.


"…YOU HAVE NO TASTE BUDS!" – Arthur Kirkland; UK REP.

"Hey, Dude, what's up?"

There was an exasperated sigh on the other end of the diner's phone. "Alfred, why aren't you at your office? Your secretary said you were out." The Englishman sounded tired. Then again, unless he was having tea or his burnt scones or something was horribly wrong, he always did. That's Bushy Brows for you.

"Yeah, I'm with Sarah and Steve at the 38th Street Diner." The light brown haired rep. paused. "Something wrong?"

"No," the Brit sighed. "I just need your signature on a few things." Pause. "Will you still be over there in say…about ten to fifteen minutes?"

Alfred blinked in surprise for a brief moment before giving a reply: "Yeah," he answered. "We just ordered our drinks a few minutes ago. And knowing how Sarah can be a bit of a talker..." he laughed nervously while shoving a hand in his leather jacket's pocket. "Yeah, we'll be here."

"Good. I need something in me or I'll fall asleep and then I'll have to worry about Francis pulling a prank on me." The British representative groaned loudly at this while Alfred smirked as he imagined what the Frenchman would do to him.

"Alright, see you in a few then." And with that, the American hung up the black phone's receiver and sighed heavily. One bad thing about his job was that it followed him everywhere he went. There was no escaping it completely. He had no choice but to try and have small breaks from the stressful office life of signing papers and downing at least five or six cups of black coffee a day to keep away in the boredom and silence of it all.

Deciding that keeping Sarah and Steve waiting any longer would be a bad thing, he walked back into the vast maze of a sitting area filled with booths and wooden table and chairs. As the rep. was squeezing through the narrow passageways through occupied chairs and tables, he happened to look up right where his company was. Sarah and Steve were playing some sort of game – most likely Tic Tack Toe – And Sarah was most likely wiping the floor with her nine year old son.

And sure enough, as he got closer, he could see the boy begin to pout as he looked away with his arms crossed while he pouted. His mother laughed, meanwhile – ruffling his hair and telling him not to spoil his appetite over a silly game. The blonde woman then looked up, seeing the familiar face and almost immediately smiling. "Took you long enough." She quipped before looking down at her son once more with her gleaming brown eyes. "I was getting sick 'n tired of wiping the floor with him at Tic Tack Toe."

Alfred couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the comment as he looked down at his nephew, who glared lightly at him when he saw him laughing. 'Tis a shame that it made the rep. laugh even more.
"C'mon." the light brown haired man narrowed his face slightly while grinning widely still. "Don't give me that look." Steve's look weakened for a second when he began smiling due to the goofy tone that his uncle was using to talk to him. Said uncle took a seat next to the little boy. "Or I'll have no choice but to…"

"But to what?" the blond boy raised a golden eyebrow, blue eyes filled with mock annoyance and a gut feeling told him what was to come. But being a naïve nine year old, he ignored it. And that's when he saw the grown man crack a small smirk and raise his eyebrows ever so slightly as he began to lean somewhat closer to him.

"TICKLE TORTURE!" Thank God that there weren't a lot of people in the restaurant. But none the less, meals were disturbed. Steve began giggling like a maniac when the uncle's hands went to the boy's stomach and jabbed at him ever so slightly. Sarah couldn't help but laugh a bit at the scene as she tried to remain composed and as if she didn't know the two idiots, one of them she called "son".

"Playing games as usual, are we, Alfred?" an accented voice inquired. At the sound, said grown man froze and turned his head to the right, seeing the one and only Arthur Kirkland look at him with a displeased expression. The American then beamed a smile at the green eyed blond.

"Well, looks like you did decide to show up after all!" Alfred commented to the dressed up Brit who merely sighed at the comment. The American then stood up and shook hands with the older man as the two Rogers watched with curiosity and waited patiently for an explanation. The US rep. turned back to the two who were sitting down while the British man merely shifted his eyes. "Oh," he turned to fully face them and shifted to the side, pointing a finger at the man beside him. "Meet Arthur Kirkland; representative to England."

Being a respectable gentleman, Arthur bowed his head lightly; removing the hat he was wearing and holding it against his chest. "Nice to meet you." He shared a small smile. Sarah returned the gesture.

"Likewise." She replied. Steve stared up at the man, curious about him. Uncle Al and the mystery man seemed to be on friendly terms, so maybe they knew each other? Alfred then took a seat next to the nine year old blond and Arthur took a seat next to the mother who just became more and more uncomfortable with the new scene.

Luckily for the group of four, the waitress came back with two Coca Colas, a glass of water, and a cup of steaming tea. "Here are you drinks," she smiled at the group. "Two Coca Colas one water, and one Earl Grey Tea."

"Thank you," the three blondes gave their thanks while Alfred just said "Thanks."

"Now," the brunette woman sighed, taking out her small note pad and pencil as she looked down at the four. "What will you folks like to eat?"

Alfred grinned lightly. "Un hamburger pour moi," the American gestured to himself, placing a hand on his chest. "Un fromage grillé pour le gosse," the light brown haired man's hand landed firmly on Steve's shoulder. He looked up shyly from the brunette waitress to the familiar face. "Une salade avec vinaigrette ranch pour la belle dame," Arthur raised a thick eyebrow and gave a questioning look at the name he called Sarah as the other representative's hand went from the boy's shoulder to the blonde woman sitting across from her son. "Et certains Rôti de boeuf pour les sourcils broussailleux." The questioning look on the Brit's face automatically turned sour at the childish nickname. One of the Englishman's emerald eyes twitched uncontrollably at the moment.

The waitress tilted her head to the side and only uttered "huh?" in a questioning tone. Kirkland sighed, as if he had to do this before. "One hamburger, one Grilled Cheese, one salad with ranch dressing, and some Roast Beef, if you'll please," he translated. The brown eyed girl nodded her head which was still spinning from confusion before scribbling down the order and running off to the cook. Once she was gone, the British man let out another sigh. "Really, Al, did you have to order the meal in French?"

The American shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't have to, it was by choice, and why not?" a small smirk crept onto the man's face as he eyed the British representative while quirking a bushy eyebrow at him. In return, the man with the thick eyebrows raised both of them, apparently amused with the American. A shy smirk crept onto the mother's face as she watched the two begin to argue like a tennis match – back and forth – back and forth.

"I can see why everyone considers you the asshole of the world meetings, now. And to think that it's my fault…" another sigh left the Englishman.

"Don't worry, Artie. We all forgive you. After all, if it weren't for you, the world wouldn't have me as a hero!" the American replied while jabbing his thumb at his chest while his left hand held the Coca Cola that he seemed to be enjoying a lot. The last two lines of dialogue earned muffled snickers from both blondes sitting next to the two reps. Had the Englishman been more younger, he would have slapped his forehead, but since he already had a headache, he didn't feel like making it worse; Although, Alfred probably wouldn't say the same thing. Little Stevie could be seen trying to stifle a small giggle while Sarah merely rolled her eyes while breathing out a prolonged sigh through her nose.

"Last time I checked, you left me, plus everyone else at the last meeting, at the mercy of Ivan, who decided to…Never mind." Artie shook his head and furrowed his thick eyebrows even more. Alfred couldn't help but have a small smirk on his face when he saw that the man sitting across him was starting to resemble his Scottish Fold cat that Arthur took with him wherever he went. "You left us at the mercy of THAT monster. If you were a hero, you wouldn't have – "

"Last time I checked, you ain't a damsel in distress. You brought those scones with you last time, didn't you?" Alfred replied with a blank face, trying to suppress his laughter. And as expected, the Englishman cringed at the question. "Those things taste like petrified couch stuffing." A slight smirk crossed Alfred's lips…which quickly faded when in the next instant, he was being violently shaken by the older man.

"THAT RECIPE WAS PASSED DOWN BY MY MUMSY! How dare you insult her! You don't know anything about exquisite cuisine because YOU HAVE NO TASTE BUDS!"

…And for the second time that day in less than fifteen minutes, people stopped what they were eating on the spot. Some food even fell out of a few patrons' mouths as they slowly turned their heads to witness the cause of the new commotion.

The dizzy American replied, "Neither do you…" as he saw chirping birds flying around in front of his eyes that were now black and white swirls. The Englishman then yelled with rage as he continued shaking the American violently. Steve couldn't stop his giggling this time and his mother let out a low chuckle while having her eyes closed and her face lowered to the ground. It seemed like a whole eternity passed before Arthur let go of the American. Sarah looked at him with a worried look.

"Is…he going to be alright?"

Another sigh escaped the Englishman. "He'll be fine." He answered, looking down at the table while frowning with his arms crossed. "What you've just witnessed is our usual bantering. The mother and boy raised their eyebrows at this. Usual!?

The brunette waitress then came back into view, carrying over the four ordered meals with a smile on her face. "Here's your food!"

And then like that, Alfred came to when he smelled the delicious hamburger on its way over. "Man, I'm starvin'!"

Arthur merely let his head bob as he lowered it hopelessly. The woman next to him let out a long sigh while her son just looked up at the man with a curious look on his face.