I do not own Hetalia nor do i own the settings or the characters.

I'm finally back with an update! Yay! Sorry it has taken me so long, but I've been looking for a new job while still working at my current job. Plus, I started a new Bleach fic which I definitely didn't need to start while trying to finish this one, but it has begun so there ya go. Anyway, I appreciate everyone who is still being patient with me and continuing to support this fic. I love you all so much!

So get to reading and tell me how much you still hate me for the content of this chapter. Thanks for reading.

Alfred hated sitting in World Conferences. If he was being completing honest, he hated all conferences. He hated the ones he had with his band of rebels during the American Revolutionary War. He hated the ones he'd had to sit through during World War I and World War II. So obviously the ones today where every nation in existence came together all in one place to essentially get into one big stereotypical, politically influenced argument was not what he considered a good time. The fighting and arguing hadn't quite started yet and everyone was either listening or pretending to listen to the big blond German standing at the front of the room.

The American lets out a sigh and props his face against his palm with his elbow on the table. He hadn't slept that well the night before the conference. He never slept well the night before the conferences. He always tried to pretend like he didn't know why, but deep down he did know why. Arthur…that's why…the Briton filled his every thought and all his dreams. He wasn't exactly nervous about seeing Arthur rather, he was nervous about what usually happened after the conferences with Arthur.

It hurt the bespectacled blond's heart every time he thought about the type of relationship he and Arthur seemed to remain in no matter what happened. They had actually hurt each other's feelings more times than either of them could count, but for some reason it seemed much harder to sit down and hash out all their problems than it did to just sweep it all under the rug and pretend like none of it ever happened.

Alfred knew what they were doing was stupid. He knew it was stupid when they'd started all this back some 70 or so years ago. It didn't stop them though. Every time the two of them were together they would find some time to be alone. Their alone time always consisted of sex, sex, and more sex. In fact, Alfred couldn't remember the last time he and Arthur had actually had a real conversation with all their clothes on. There certainly wasn't a lot of talking going on when they were together…just a lot of heavy breathing and moaning.

Neither of them ever talked about it anymore. It always happened exactly the same way every time. The meeting would end and Arthur would catch Alfred's eyes. The look always meant, 'Follow me and don't let anyone catch you.' Then they would meet up in some deserted conference room or cheap hotel and that's where the sex began. It was always great while it was going on, but Alfred always felt terribly used when it was over, but he couldn't blame Arthur for this feeling because he was using Arthur just as much.

He's suddenly pulled from his thoughts when an elbow jabs him hard in the ribs, "Ow! The hell was that for?!" He should have known better than to sit beside Romano during the meeting. Alfred continues to glare at the feisty Italian awaiting an answer for the assault.

Romano rolls his eyes in annoyance, "It's your fucking turn to get up and speak, dumbass!"

Alfred fumbles with his papers for a few seconds before finally getting out of his seat and taking Germany's place at the front of the room.

Arthur was just as bored as the American, but he managed to hold himself a bit more proper by not slouching on the table. He wondered what Alfred had been daydreaming about? It didn't matter at all, but now that the young blond nation was standing at the front of the room, the Briton could think of nothing else than what they would be doing only minutes after the meeting ended.

The Englishman lets out a sigh and tries to rid his mind of the dirty thoughts coursing through it. He'd often times wondered if maybe he should just let Alfred go all together or just take the plunge and try to work things out with the younger man. Both options absolutely terrified him, but he would never let Alfred know that. Besides, the American never complained about what they had been doing for several decades so why should they change things now? The sex was always fast and rough, but America seemed to like it that way and the both of them always got off.

England closes his green eyes for a moment and rubs his temples with his fingers. He hated it when he got to thinking about this subject. He always regretted just tossing Alfred to the side when they were done, but he just didn't know what else do to. Surely if Alfred wanted something else he would have said something by now. Arthur opens his eyes again and notices that Alfred is once again in his own seat and another country is wrapping up the meeting. It wouldn't be long now.

The meeting finally ended and Arthur gave Alfred the look as he always did. The two English speaking nations allowed the room to thin a bit before the older man makes his way slowly into the hallway allowing Alfred the chance to catch up without being too obvious about it. Arthur turns the corner and the American knows exactly where the older nation is headed. It certainly wouldn't be the first time the two of them had got it on in that particular room. Alfred didn't know what that room was used for, but there was never anything in there but a few tables and a bunch of boxes.

Alfred assumed Arthur had already made it to the abandoned meeting room, but the younger blond makes a point of stopping by the restroom first just in case anyone happened to be watching. He stays in the restroom stall for a few minutes and then quietly makes his way to the room he knew Arthur would be waiting in. He reaches the door and looks around once more just to make sure no one is around. He then takes in a deep breath, slowly letting the air out as he turns the knob.

When he enters the room, all thoughts of the conference meeting and worry that someone saw him follow the Briton into the room leave his brain as Arthur pushes him roughly against the wall and crushes his eager lips against the American's equally anxious lips. It doesn't take long for the kiss to become sloppy and heated as Arthur's tongue delves deeply into Alfred's mouth. The American groans as his own tongue meets the older man's tongue in a desperate attempt to taste as much of the Englishman as possible. Their fingers hurriedly begin ridding the other of clothes until jackets, ties, shirts, pants, socks, and anything else in the way is strewn all over the box crowded room.

When their lips finally separate, Alfred takes in a much needed breath as Arthur pushes him even closer to the wall as he grinds his pulsing erection roughly against the bespectacled man's own dripping cock. Alfred closes his blue eyes and lets out a loud moan as he also moves his hips with Arthur's to gain just a bit more friction between their slick bodies. The American then feels Arthur's teeth on his neck and he lets out a very desperate sound low in his throat, "Yes! Arthur…ah!...please…j-just get on…with it…ah hah…fuck me already!"

The Englishman's green eyes meet Alfred's for the first time since they entered the room and he nods before taking his former colony's hand and leading him to one of the tables, "Bend over and put that nice arse of yours in the air for me."

Alfred would like to say that the demeaning talk from Arthur offended him, but he'd be lying if he said that. He actually enjoyed it more when Arthur treated him like a slut. It made it easier to just walk away when everything was said and done. So the younger country does as he's told and bends over the table. He could hear Arthur fumbling around in one of their briefcases. It didn't matter which one because they both held a tube of lube inside. Neither of them pretended this wasn't going to happen anymore and both nations arrived prepared every time.

The younger blond can feel his heart pounding in his chest and he wouldn't be surprised if Arthur could hear it reverberating off the table he was leaned against. Finally, the island nation makes his way back to the American and gently caresses the soft mounds of flesh with his hand. Alfred lets out a gasp as he feels Arthur's hand smooth over every inch of his ass. He knew this was the last gentle touch he would feel and the American preferred it that way. When Arthur pulls his hand away, Alfred shivers from the loss of such a tender touch. The sound of the lube being opened fills the quiet room and the blue eyed nation knows it won't be long now.

Arthur squirts a generous amount of lube into his palm and strokes the liquid along his own hard shaft a few times before approaching the American with a lube slickened set of fingers, "You were thinking about this during the meeting weren't you, America?" When Alfred doesn't respond, Arthur continues speaking, "It's alright…you can admit it." A soft chuckle leaves the Brit's mouth, "I know I was thinking about it." He once again caresses the skin of Alfred's ass with his lube free hand, "How could I not think of this beautiful, perfect arse of yours?"

America lets out a needy sigh as he spreads his legs farther apart, "Please, Arthur…just do it."

"Why so impatient, America?" Arthur squeezes the warm flesh underneath his palm a few times before pulling the American's cheeks apart as much as he can with one hand, "Surely, your flight doesn't leave for another few hours."

Before Alfred has a chance to respond, he feels a calloused, lubricated finger slip inside him causing another groan to leave his throat. The lone finger moves back and forth at a fast pace for a few seconds before a second finger enters quickly. Arthur never spent much time on prep anymore. Actually, it had been a few decades since Alfred could remember being properly prepped, but he didn't mind. A little pain wasn't the end of the world and the soreness always made him remember how utterly stupid he was for continuing this type of relationship with his former caretaker. He would feel the sting for a few days afterward and would inwardly chastise himself, but he knew it wouldn't convince him to stop. He didn't know if he had the willpower to stop after all these years anyway. Alfred then feels the Englishman's fingers slip free from his body and he readies himself for what comes next.

Arthur could feel how tense Alfred was and he would like to think that there was nothing to be tense about any longer considering this was a well done practice between them, but Arthur felt tense also. He didn't know why, but for some reason he always felt guilty right before they became one. The feeling of guilt always faded quickly once he was finally inside the hot, squeezing confines of the younger man's body, but it always returned just as fast when everything was said and done. He should have put his foot down and stopped this madness they called a 'friends with benefits' relationship a long time ago, but he never could convince himself that it was the right thing to do much less convince America. Everything was just less messy this way. At least it seemed on the outside to be a cleaner solution than rehashing everything in their pasts.

The Briton finally grips his own cock in order to help guide it into the still sinfully tight hole belonging to the American bent over the table beneath him. Arthur holds his breath as he feels the head of his extremely sensitive cock slide into Alfred's body and without much warning or time for the younger man to adjust, he pushes his hips forward burying his entire length deep within his former colony. He can feel Alfred's heated wall pulse around his shaft as he finally releases the breath he had been holding. The younger blond's body trembles slightly beneath him and the island nation wanted so badly to comfort him and tell him he was sorry for rushing it, but he knew Alfred wouldn't appreciate being patronized. The American had said so once before and since then Arthur had refused to try and comfort him during their 'meetings'.

Alfred lets out a low squeak of pain as the Briton's cock penetrates his insides without so much as a pause. He shivers as he feels the thick, hard length resting and throbbing inside him. He thought that eventually he would get used to the feeling, but it always seemed to take him by surprise at just how full he always felt once Arthur was inside him, "Wh-what are you…waiting for, Arthur? Do I have to beg you? You always seemed to…to like it when I beg you. Is that what you…what you want?"

Arthur grips the younger nation's hips tightly as he grinds his hips against Alfred's ass forcing his cock to inch a bit deeper inside before pulling back and sinking his length deep inside again, "Shut that mouth…of yours, America…I…ah!...I only want to hear your…your pleasure this time."

That was all it took to fuel the British nation into pounding him roughly against the table. It was fast and hard, but everything felt amazing and it was all just the way Alfred liked it. Arthur knew just where to touch him…inside and out to make him feel amazing. That was one of the many reasons why Alfred didn't just walk away from his situation. He could feel his orgasm building and he gave the European just what he asked for as he cries out his bliss with each thrust into his quivering hole. He knew Arthur was close by how erratic the pace of his thrusts had become. He could feel the Englishman's labor breaths on his skin until suddenly Arthur cries out his climax. Alfred can feel the warmth enter his body as he too spills his essence onto the meeting room floor. He hoped that Arthur would remain inside him for a few more seconds, but as soon as the Briton's orgasmic convulsions cease, he pulls himself free and sinks to the floor to catch his breath.

Alfred remains propped against the table as he waits for his legs to stop shaking and for his heart to slow down just a little. The cluttered meeting room becomes quiet with only the sound of their ragged breathing until Arthur sits up and breaks the silence, "America, are you okay?"

"Oh, shit…am I bleeding?" He uses his arms to prop himself up and uses one hand to feel behind him, "I didn't think you were any rougher than…"

"That's not what I meant." Arthur pushes a sweaty strand of hair out of his eye as he lets out a loud sigh, "You're not bleeding so relax."

Alfred turns around to face Arthur with a perplexed look on his young face as he too takes a seat on the meeting room floor, "Then what are you talking about?"

Arthur lets out another sigh not really wanting to say what he had planned to say, but he runs his fingers through his sweat dampened hair and responds to Alfred's inquiry, "Are you…okay with this?" He gestures to the two of them with his hand before continuing, "With this 'arrangement' we have?"

Alfred also lets out a sigh as he scans the room for his clothes, "Don't start this conversation up again, Arthur. It always leads to a fight and you know it."

"And what does that mean?" He gives Alfred an offended look, but the American is busy pulling his underwear back on to take notice of the expression.

The younger man lets out another sigh as he continues to search for his clothes strewn all about the room, "You know exactly what it means." Alfred locates his pants, but before pulling them on he gives Arthur a serious look, "We've tried to talk about our 'relationship' before and it always leads to us hurting the other person's feelings and we never accomplish anything."

The Briton locates his own underclothes and begins pulling them on as he addresses Alfred's concerns, "That's not true. Why would you say that?"

Alfred lets a condescending chuckle escape his throat as he continues redressing, "Did that last orgasm cause you to have a stroke? You can't tell me you don't remember all the times we claimed we were going to do better or change things." He shakes his head and rolls his blue eyes in disbelief, "Let's just say that I'm not happy with our current arrangement…what then? There are only two options."

Arthur begins dressing as well, but he continues to listen with interest at what the American has to say, "And those two options would be?"

Once his pants and belt are back on, Alfred leans against the table he'd just been fucked on and crosses his arms over his still bare chest, "We either stop what we're doing all together…which we have tried more than once and it never works…or we actually sit down and hash everything out and see where we both stand when the discussion is over." He lets out another deep sigh, "Or we could continue what we're doing and avoid a shit load of heartache. That is the option I'm personally rooting for."

Arthur is silent for a few minutes as Alfred's words make their way through his brain, "Perhaps you're right, but…we never really did give the hashing it out option a fair go did we?'

Alfred looks down at the floor as he shakes his head, "Wow…are you sure that's such a good idea?"

Arthur swallows the lump of sadness in his throat before speaking again, "What could it hurt? Everything else we've tried has blown up in our faces."

The younger nation looks at his former caretaker once again, "And what makes you think this won't either? There is a lot of heartache and pain in our past that we'd have to dredge up all over again. There are things that happened between us years ago…centuries even, that I've tried my best to gloss over and never think about again. If we hash it all out, are you ready for all the things we buried to be brought back to the surface?"

When the Englishman doesn't respond, Alfred speaks again, "If we were to talk it all out then who's to say it would do any good? Some of the things in our past may very well tear us apart more than we already are. Have you ever thought of that?"

An angry expression overtakes the Briton's features, "I have thought about you and me more than I care to admit. I know it may be hard for you to believe, but even through all the things we've suffered through…the things we've done and said to the other…I still care about you. I could never in a trillion years stop caring about you." Arthur's green eyes shift away from Alfred's face and focus on the floor.

Alfred stands up straight and he turns away from the older nation as he slams his hands on the table, "Why are you doing this?! Why after all this time are you telling me this?!" He turns again to face Arthur, "That night that you came to my house right before World War II ended…I decided it was time to give up my feelings for you. I thought it best to bury them as far down as I could because I knew that you would never return those feelings for me." A few stray tears make their way down the American's young face as he speaks his next words, "And now you tell me that you care about me? What am I supposed to do with that?"

Arthur can feel his already shattered heart break just a little bit more at the sorrowful look on his former colony's face and he doesn't really know what to say next. He did still care about Alfred, but he didn't really know what that meant either. He knew he would always care about Alfred, but he wasn't sure if he could actually go through with the hashing it all out talk, "America…"

"Don't! Just don't!" Alfred snatches his shirt up from the floor and hastily begins putting his arms through the sleeves, "I can't have this discussion with you right now! You're just feeling nostalgic and lonely!" He buttons his shirt and stuffs his tie in his pocket as he tries to avoid the Briton's gaze, "I can't trust you with my heart again." He picks his briefcase off the floor and heads toward the door never looking at Arthur's face, "I'm afraid that if you break it again…there won't be anything left."

Arthur hears the quiver in Alfred's voice as the younger man places his hand on the door knob, "My heart is broken too, love." The American halts in turning the knob and his heart skips a beat at hearing Arthur call him that after so many decades, but he remains silent giving Arthur the chance to speak once again, "But, sometimes…the only one who can mend a broken heart is the one who broke it to begin with. You see…they're the only ones who saw it when it was still whole and perfect."

Alfred lets the words sink in and for a moment he has to fight the urge to turn around and embrace his former lover, but the feeling soon passes as he remembers all the pain Arthur had put him through. He turns the knob and opens the door, "Have a safe flight, Artie. Goodbye."

Arthur watches Alfred leave the room and close the door behind him. The Briton finishes dressing and tries not to think about everything that just transpired. The only solace he finds is in the fact that he did try to make things better with Alfred. He really couldn't blame the American for feeling the way he felt. The island nation then realizes it will take a lot more than fancy words and what ifs to bring Alfred back around.

TBC…

Once again, thanks for reading! Love ya!