Author's Note: Okay.. There's an OC here and his name is IRELAND!

Here's some info on Ireland~

Name: Quinn McKinley Kirkland

Yeah, just so you guys don't get confused. Thanks! Oh and the OC is really mine, so... Yeah.

I don't own Hetalia. **cries**

America grew along with the development of his land. He now took the image of an eleven year old child.

America was sitting on the stairs at the front porch of his house, clinging onto the rails just at the side. He swung his legs back and forth as he waited for his 'older brother'. For his England.

He sighed to himself, 'England, you're so slow..' he thought impatiently.

America had grown very attached to England, possessive even. He was always jealous when France came over and made England flush in that really cute way. America also wanted to do that! But it looked as if all he could do was make England chuckle and smile.

'As long as big brother France doesn't see that smile, we'll be even!' America grinned to himself.

At that moment, he saw a figure walking towards the house. America jumped from his seat and ran towards the silhouette. "Englaand!~" he squealed and glomped the older nation.

England sputtered as he was tackled to the ground by America. "Pffft- H-hey there kiddo!" England chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair before giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.

They stood up and America resumed hugging England, only tall enough to barely wrap his arms around the older man's waist.

"England! I missed you! Did you miss me? What did you do? Where did you go?" America rambled, not really caring. He just really missed England.

England smiled down at the boy and picked him up. It was bit harder than usual, he was.. Heavier? And England swore the boy grew a good few centimeters taller.

"Heh, let me tell you about everything I did while I wasn't here with you.. But before that, let's go back to the house." America smiled and took the opportunity of his new height. He gestured England to bring his face closer, as if he had a secret to tell.

England quirked an eyebrow but leaned forward. America cupped his hands around his mouth and blew gently into England's ear, causing the other nation to go weak in the knees, almost dropping America.

England flushed and moved his head away from America, who was smirking at the expression on England's face.

"H-hey! Don't do that!" he chuckled slightly, but it was rather breathless.

America giggled "Sorry, England! I just wanted to try it! But that wasn't the real thing I was gonna do.." and he motioned England to lean closer again, a sincere expression on his face.

England hesitated but then leaned again and America leaned forward, lips ghosting over England's ear. "I love you." America whispered into England's ear, before pulling away slightly and kissing England on the cheek.

He smiled at the words and gesture and pulled away slightly then smiled down at the boy. "I love you too, lad. Now let's go back inside, it's getting cold out here..."

As England finished getting his bags into the house, along with the crates that contained pieces of his culture, he had settled down on the sofa, sighing softly to himself.

It was hard. Hard to return to America. Hard to get on a ship and sail all the way to America. But it was worth it. England loved the lad so much. He wanted to stay with him forever and treasure the moments of his little brother's childhood.

America went over to the couch and sat down next to England, clinging onto his arm and inhaling the scent of England's clothes. "I reaally missed you.." he mumbled into the sleeve, growing slightly addicted to the scent. England chuckled and used his free hand to ruffle the boy's hair.

"Hey, I missed you too.." 'A lot more than you can imagine' England added.

"England, tell me a story about the times you went on ships with cool looking hats, swords and guns! You know, the time you told me about you kicking big brother France's a-" England silenced the boy with a finger. Pressing it delicately to his lips.

"None of that language! You're much too young!" England chuckled.

At that moment, one of the men entered America's home, carrying the last of England's luggage. "Mistah Kirkland, is there anythin' else yah might need?" the man asked with a heavy Cockney accent.

England shook his head and gave a firm glare at the man. "No. Yer dismissed. Now off with ya!"

The man nodded nervously and scrambled out of the house.

"Kirkland?" Alfred repeated. England smiled at him.

"That's my human name, Arthur Kirkland. My crew knows me as 'Captain Kirkland' instead of 'England'." He poked the tip of America's nose, making the boy giggle.

"Hey, England... I want a name too!" America beamed.

England chuckled "You already have one. It's America, isn't it?" he smiled.

"No! I mean, a human name! Something cool, like yours!" England pondered over this a bit then snapped his fingers as he got an idea.

"Alfred. Your name can be Alfred!" England grinned, America bounced excitedly.

"Yeah! Alfred Jones- No! Alfred F. Jones! Awesome!"

England quirked an eyebrow. "Why F?" 'And why Jones?' he silently added to the question, but assumed that maybe America was already thinking of a human name and all he did was confirm the boy's suspissions.

"Because of that word big brother France taught me! Alfred Fu-" England covered the boy's mouth.

"Eheh... Please avoid using that word. It's a bad word..." England swore he was going to burn the frog alive for teaching a child such vulgar language.

America- Alfred, merely grinned. His beautiful blue eyes, wide, staring at England. England smiled, mostly to himself. He had a feeling that, from now on, his human name would be used more often.

"Alfred F. Jones..." England whispered.

Alfred flushed. It was sort of embarrassing to have England say his name like that. But nevertheless he loved England and smirked. "Yes?" he answered, a cheeky grin on his face.

England smirked as well. His little Ameri- Alfred, was growing up. A bit too quickly for his pace, but never mind that. He was proud and he kissed the tip of Alfred's nose.

"Now, about that story..." And Arthur began telling the tale of Captain Kirkland, the most feared gentleman in the seven seas.

Alfred walked through the empty hallways of his home, wandering idly. England was working and Alfred had just run out of things to do. He sighed as he approached a stack of crates England had brought over, and decided to examine them. He trailed his finger over a crate, examining the texture.

But suddenly,

'Tap'

Alfred jumped, whipping his head around, looking for the source of the sound.

'Tap, tap' it continued.

Alfred walked near the biggest crate.

'Tap, tap, tap' Yup, this crate was the one making all the noise.

A part of Alfred told him to get as far away from the box a possible, the other part was just dying of curiosity. So he decided to listen to the later of his thoughts and unhooked the lid of the crate, only to have a man nearly jump out of the crate like a Jack in the box.

"Aaah, God! Wut the feckin' hell wus A' thinkin'?!" the man sighed, stretching as he was finally freed from his prison.

Alfred stared at the man. He had bright orange hair that was just as disheveled as England's, only, slightly longer for it almost touched his shoulders. His eyebrows just as thick as England's but, somehow, neater. Forest green eyes, freckles, a bit stubbly...

"Eh? What're ya starin' at, lad? Ye look like ye saw a ghost!" the man chuckled, getting out of the crate and ruffling Alfred's hair affectionately.

"Ya must be America! The colony mah eejit o' a brother keeps braggin' 'bout!" the man smiled deviously and he stuck his hand out. "The name's Ireland. Quinn McKinley Kirkland, if yar comfortable callin' me bah mah first name."

Alfred grinned and grabbed Ireland's hand in a strong grip and he shook it feverishly. "Heya! My name's America! Alfred F. Jones!"

Ireland gave a startled gasp at the grip.

"Woooaah there lad... Iron grip ye have there..." he muttered before chuckling, picking Alfred up and placing him over his shoulders.

"Let's go an' say hi tah Arthur!" Ireland smirked then broke into a sprint, following his instincts and heading towards the study room.

Alfred was laughing and giggling. It was so fun! England never did these kinds of things to him, because he was always too busy.. And even though Ireland claimed to be England's brother, he was the exact opposite of him! Alfred had a feeling he would be rather fond of Ireland...

Ireland kicked open the doors to England's room. England whipped his head towards the door and gasped, choking slightly on air and, what Ireland guessed was, spit.

"'Ello thar, meh least favorite o' a brother! Met yer li'l America. Ya sure got lucky! He's nothin' buh a bundle of cuteness an' sunshine!" Ireland grinned and bounced, making Alfred giggle with giddiness.

England turned a dangerous shade of red. "Quinn!! What the bloody-" Ireland brought a finger up to silence him.

"Ya swear in front of the lad? Are ya goin' insane? Yer s'posed tah be a GOOD influence! Not a bad one!"

"S-shut up!" England glanced at Alfred, who was burying his face in Ireland's hair, giggling.

"And will you please put Alfred down! Before he gets hurt!" England panicked slightly. One of his worse fears coming true. Alfred meeting his daft of a brother, Ireland.

"Ah, relax Arthur! Loosen up 'n get that prick outta yer arse!" Ireland laughed, going over to his brother and looking over his work.

"What the hell?! Yer plannin' out the lad's life?! Ya must'a hit yer head too hard an' lost yer mind!" Ireland screamed, flailing as he did.

England sighed. The bloke was just as loud as ever.

"Quinn, I'm not planning his life! Just arranging my stream of thoughts and culture..." England explained, then quirked an eyebrow "How'd you get here anyway..?"

"He came out of a box!" Alfred answered, his eyes widening as he remembered how he met Ireland.

"Tha's right! A'm one hell of a magical bastard!" Ireland chuckled, Alfred following the suite.

Sigh. This was going to be a long week...