A/N: Aaaah! Finally done! An early B-day present for the lovely lebunnylub. She's an awesome author, and I felt compelled to do something in return for her hard work. Two ongoing series...I won't ever be able to remember to update them both...w;;

Tis only a one-shot, and I'll be doing quite a few of those, but I do have a series planned! :D

This is also my first lemon/lime/orange/citrus type fic, so please be gentle with me...Suggestions would be nice as well! (This does not include flames, thank you~)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia. I wish I did, as do many other people here. Himepapa and his amazing brain has made this fandom possible. =w= d Characters are also not mine, etc. etc.

This plot was...somewhat inspired by a doujin. So if it's similar, I apologize, but I assure you I did not know of anything word for word. Why? Because this was a USUK doujin that inspired me. This fanfic is a UKUS.

Moving on to other warnings! Once again, this is UKUS! Yaoi, lemon, and a lot of other stuff that I suddenly forgot... Don't like? Then please don't read. For those who wish to proceed, please do enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Serenity. Stillness. Silence. A thick air enveloped the basement as Arthur stood there, staring at a giant puff of smoke that wafted from the magic circle in front of him. The spell-book that he held dropped to the floor with a loud CRASH as he continued to gape at the magic circle.

"ALFRED!"

Alfred F. Jones (also referred to by many as the United States of America), stared at the blue sky that expanded over the horizon, his arms sprawled out to either side of his body as he laid basking in the sun. Occasionally, a few seagulls flew lazily by, and the smell of saltwater assaulted his nose.

"Dude...where the fuck am I..." was the only thing that the young blond thought as he laid on the wooden surface below him. Finally finding some sort of motivation to sit up, he slowly did so, only to cringe and keel over forward as a sharp pain coursed through the back of his head. Alfred reached his hands up to his head to find a lump, and his fingers rubbed it soothingly as he tried to ease the pain.

"Fuck man...Must have landed on my head or something...What the fuck did Artie do to me anyways?" Alfred thought as he continued to massage the bump. Finally looking up, the American found himself sitting on the deck of a ship. Various barrels and crates were scattered about, and the crow's nest was visible from where he sat. At the very top, a single piece of cloth flapped about the wind, its black fabric adorned by a Jolly Rogers.

A pirate's flag.

"Holy shit...is this a pirate's ship? Oh shit dude, this is awesome! Is it like some sort of movie set? Whatever, this is gonna be so great! I'm gonna thank Artie when I see him aga-"

"And just who, if I may so kindly ask, has the guts to dare and sneak upon my ship as a stowaway?" A voice interrupted Alfred's thoughts. The American flinched when he heard someone speaking behind him, and froze for a moment. Wait...that voice...Slowly, almost mechanically, Alfred slowly turned his head around as he tried to find the owner of that oh-so familiar voice.

Blue sapphires almost popped out their sockets when they caught sight of said owner. A slender, lithe, yet built frame donned a white button-up with ruffles running parallel to the buttons. A white, lacy cravat fanned out elegantly, complimenting the ruffled shirt which it hung in front of. A blood-red coat hung from the shoulders, giving the body a larger and more intimidating appearance. Gold tousles dangled from the shoulders of the coat, and a gold lining accented the coat helped to compliment the coat, along with a dark-royale blue on the inside of it.

Accenting a thin waist was a forest-green silken sash, which was wrapped quite securely in order to sustain a sheathed cutlass a bit further down. A pair of black trousers hugged the figure's legs, which disappeared (a little below the knees) into a pair of dark-brown bucket boots.

"I truly appreciate that you are so keenly observing me, but are you going to give me an answer any time soon?" the voice rang again.

Realizing he had been checking the body out for far too long, Alfred snapped his head up almost immediately. As he rose too fast, his eyes caught a black hat with a large, white feather plume ornamenting it, drooping down and giving the headgear a majestic touch...if that was even possible. Gold linings ran a border at the top the hat, accenting it further. As his gaze fell lower, a mess of shaggy blonde hair was seen protruding every which way from beneath the headgear flowed into Alfred's vision. The recipe for shock was complete when his gaze finally met the other's face.

A single emerald orb, with a piercing glare that was almost as potent as daggers, was now looking at down at Alfred. The other eye was hidden by a black eye patch, and a familiar scowl was plastered onto the face. Two caterpillar-like eyebrows were perched above the eyes, and the blond bangs were not doing a good job of covering them up. One name rang in Alfred's head as he simply stared at the figure.

"E-England...?" He had no idea why he decided to use the nation name instead of the human name, but it seemed to be... more appropriate for the current situation.

"Oh? It seems you know of my true identity. Are you, perchance, a nation as well?" The other man asks. His tone has not relaxed, but he seemed less intent on killing Alfred...for now. Alfred, on the other hand, simply continued to stare at the pirate in silence.

This person didn't deny that he was England. Said person was also a pirate...and didn't know who he was.

Oh. Shit.

Alfred had gone back in time.

FLASHBACK

A fuming Briton was in his basement, crouched down as he was scratching runes into a magic circle on his wooden floor with a piece of chalk as he mumbled something about "bloody Americans" and "stupid arse" and "intolerable wanker".

Adding the final touches to his circle, Arthur (otherwise referred to as England or The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland) stood up once more, taking a moment to admire his work.

"Honestly, Alfred seems to get more and more annoying with the passing years. First he ignores all my attempts to contact him, then he goes and pesters me non-stop, and even has the guts to try and say that I ignored him! The nerve of him!"

After a moment longer of the Brit ranting on (and on...and on...) about Alfred, he finally opened his spell-book to the page required. His eyes dart over the characters that littered the page, and his lips parted as he started to chant the spell in a low voice.

The circle lit up, and the runes began to glow. The once-dark room was now illuminated by the soft, yet somewhat eerie glow of the magic circle. Smoke was now floating up from the circle as the spell continued, fogging the room with the mystifying white gas.

At first, thudding sounds were heard, but Arthur chose to ignore them as he continued on with the spell, shrugging it off to be his cat just wanting attention.

Big mistake.

The thuds grew in volume, and eventually the door flew open with a loud SLAM as a certain American stormed into the room, pouting and whining the whole way in.

"DUDE! Artie! Not cool, man! You do not ditch in the middle of a scary movie marathon just so-"

His sentence was left unfinished as Arthur span around, his face agape with horror that the idiot had once again messed up the spell. From the circle, the white mist now turned into a dark grayish hue, and instead of lazily floating about, the smoke whirled...almost with aggression. As if angered by Alfred's intrusion, the smoke surrounded the sunny blonde, encircling him like a cyclone and rotating at speeds which made the poor thing dizzy. The smoke thickens quickly, but dissipates just as fast...taking Alfred with it.

FLASHBACK END

After recounting that (so freakishly amazing and not scary in any way) event, Alfred confirmed his earlier assumption. He had indeed traveled back in time, and he was now meeting with his boyfriend's past self. More specifically, it was England's pirate self.

He was in some deep shit.

While he was gawking and gaping the fact that he was facing pirate England, said pirate was getting very irritated with the stares and silence.

"So lad, are ye gonna answer my question or not? Ye be a nation or not?" he asked, his arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping the floorboard underneath impatiently. His pirate lingo slipped as he grew impatient with the...whoever this was gawking at him.

Snapping out of his little daze, Alfred pondered on a reply for the pirate. Should he tell the man that he was America? Or should he just call himself Alfred... Either way, he knew he was not getting a positive reaction out of the pirate.

"I-I'm...Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. I'm not a nation...yet" he said, chuckling nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. England bent down, and his face was mere centimeters from Alfred's, his green eyes burning itself into Alfred's own blue ones as he searched the intruder for any signs of lying. None was found.

"I see. So are you a micronation? What are you?" England asked, his impatience not wearing off any time soon. Alfred was at a loss, but micronation seemed to be the most logical choice, at least, it did now.

"I-I'm a micronation. Yep!" He replied, giving England his signature smile. Perhaps it would help if he seemed friendly and non-threatening. While busy musing over his brilliant plan, Alfred had not noticed the dark smirk on the other's face.

"I see...Have you...a guardian? You're quite big for a micronation." England stated, inspecting the other once more. "Are you sure you're not lying..." he asked, crouching down to meet with Alfred at eye level.

"I-I'm not! I just...grow fast?" Alfred replied, scurrying away for a moment. Oh shit, was he busted? That wasn't going to be good. Was he going to have to walk the plank now? Dude, that would not be cool...

England simply smirked, and stood up. "Come along lad. I've...some things I want to discuss with you." he said, a mischievous grin flashing onto his face for a moment. Alfred gulped nervously, stood up, and followed the Captain. He didn't want to be killed...Ar-England was frightening during this phase...

The Englishman had walked into the Captain's cabin, threw his heavy red coat onto his chair, and grabbed a bottle of rum while Alfred looked around, gawking. England poured out a glass for Alfred, while he held the bottle by its neck, and handed the other his share of the drink.

"Have a drink, lad. I'm not going to harm ye." England said, letting a bit of the pirate slip past his proper English. Alfred, albeit a bit reluctant, took glass in both hands. "Thanks..." he muttered, looking at the alcohol. He looked over to England, who took generous swigs from the bottle. Thinking that it was safe, since the alcohol came from the same bottle, Alfred took a sip, which slowly turned into gulps.

"So, lad, where are ye from?" England Asked, wondering if the other was drunk enough to start talking yet. It did not work, and Alfred hummed every now and then, pondering a suitable answer to give to the pirate.

"I've only been recently discovered. Dunno what I am." he shrugged off. For some reason, his body started to feel extremely warm. Perhaps it was just the rum..he had never had so much of any strong liquor at one time.

That was not the case. Not only did his body feel extremely hot, he also felt flimsy and weak. His legs felt as though they could collapse under him at any moment, and his arms felt like they were jelly. England, secretly smirking as he placed the empty rum bottle down, went over.

"The drug took effect quite faster than I thought..." England mumbled, as he carried a weak Alfred over to the bed, where he dropped Alfred down onto the large mattress. The American landed with a grunt, and attempted to sat up, trying to catch up with what had just happened.

England did not seem to have wanted that. He had found some sturdy ropes, and with quick motions, he had tied as secure knot over Alfred's wrists, binding his hands behind his back. Snapping out of his daze by the slightly rough manhandling, Alfred struggled and attempted to break free from his binds, though it was to no avail.

"Dude, what's this for?" he yelped (in a manly way) as he thrashed about like a fish on land. England simply smirked, his face flushed with the large intake of alcohol. He climbed onto the bed, effectively pinning Alfred's body down and surrounding it so that the American could not escape.

"Hey...on second thought...you don't look too bad. You also don't seem to have any guardians, so why don't you become mine...?" he asked, running a finger gently down the other's jawline. Alfred shivered, and a small groan of protest escaped his lips. Why did that feel so damn good...

"Wh-Dude, this is not cool, man! Not funny! Let me go!" Alfred replied, thrashing about more violently. He still felt like shit, and his body was aching with the way he was pushing his extremely relaxed muscles, but he was not going to lay around while England did whatever the hell he wanted.

Amused by the amount of energy the American displayed, England simply chuckled, before leaning down near Alfred's ear. "Why not give in to me and enjoy it, luv? I'll be sure to take you to heaven..." he whispered huskily, before flicking his tongue out to tease the shell of Alfred's ear. This earned the Englishman another shiver, and also stopped the violent floundering about, long enough for England to dive in and capture the other's lips.

Alfred stubbornly kept his lips sealed, refusing to allow the slimy organ entrance no mater how many times it ran over his lips. England, who was slowly running out of patience, growled as he attempted to slip his tongue in to no avail. Seeing this as a new challenge, he smirked, and removed his lips from Alfred's. As he did so, one hand made a painfully slow trail, which ran over the T-shirt covering Alfred's abs, and finally down to the small bulge in his pants.

With the sudden touch, Alfred gasped, and before he was able to recover, England dove in once more, this time making sure to move quickly. He slipped his tongue into Alfred's hot, moist cavern, and slowly began to ravish it. Meanwhile, Alfred was trying not to give into the temptation, but with the other just...so damn good at kissing, he was fighting a lost battle. Lost battle or not, though, Alfred was going to fight back until he can no longer resist the advances of the horny pirate.

So with all the strength he could muster, Alfred craned his neck, and pushed back against the other's tongue. This caught the pirate off-guard, as he pulled away from the kiss with a slightly shocked expression. However, that was quickly replaced with a dark smirk, as he laced his fingers into Alfred's golden waves of hair, and tilted his head back. "The drug is taking effect quite slowly...Let's see how long you can last before you come and beg for me..." England said, nibbling on Alfred's lower lip before resuming the tango of tongues.

Alfred groaned, not wanting to give in...but the heat was starting to be unbearable as he squirmed in his restraints. Even though he was a super-nation...even though he usually came out on top...even though he could kick the commie bastard's butt without breaking a sweat...he felt completely powerless and helpless, laying there as the other continued to ravish his mouth.

Satisfied with the lack of struggling from the other, the pirate released the kiss for air. A lovely shade of crimson had painted itself onto Alfred's face, his eyes slowly glazing over, blinded by the pleasure. England smirked, holding the knowledge that the drug had finally taken effect. Because of the odd way he tied the other's hand, England was unable to remove the offending cloth. So instead, he opted to suckling the hidden perks, using his tongue to try and find them from under the shirt.

Alfred trembled, the feeling of wet cloth brushing over his nipples, sending chills down his spine. Why did it feel so good? It's not like he was a girl or something...But it was what it was, and his body did not deny the sensation. A groan found its way through his supposedly sealed lips.

Releasing his captive from the teasing, the pirate loomed over the other for a bit, before moving down to attempt a full undressing of the other. The odd belt confused England, so after a bit of fumbling, he somehow managed to loosen the odd contraption, unbuttoned the jeans, and revealed an impressive bulge that begged for attention beneath cottony restraints.

Those were pulled off as well, but in a more teasing manner. Alfred heaved and groaned, as his weeping erection was so close from being released, but would become bound under the briefs once more. His body showed no shame in displaying his need, as his hips bucked forward slightly, doing just so.

England, knowing that he was slowly shattering the other's ability to think and his resolve, decided to be gracious and release the member from the confines of its brief prison. Alfred hissed, feeling the sudden cold air that met with the sensitive skin.

With a smirk, the pirate teased the slit with one finger, using the tip of his finger to tickle the slit. A loud gasp choked its way out of Alfred's mouth, and his hips once more bucked up.

"Well, aren't ye an impatient lad..." England mused, continuing to tease the other. Alfred was unable to protest, only spitting out incoherent sentences as waves of pleasure raged inside him like an angry sea. No good...his mind was slowly getting hazier.

England had removed his hand, as well as a a few articles of his own clothes. The ruffly cravat had been tossed aside, and the shirt was unbuttoned all the way, revealing a slim, yet slightly muscular torso. His pants were also unbuttoned, and from it was quite an amazing boner. Through hazy eyes, Alfred could do nothing but simply stare at the other. Holy shit...England was so fucking sexy...

"Like what you see?" The pirate asked teasingly, snapping Alfred out of his staring trance. He simply averted his eyes, not wanting to be drawn to those sharp, toxic emerald orbs. He groaned as England ran a finger about his length several times, gathering the sticky liquid that had been accumulating from earlier.

Before he knew it, he felt fingers probing at a ring of muscles between his cheeks, and his eyes snapped wide-open in fear. He knew what England was doing; it was the same preparation he did for Arthur before entering.

Having new-found strength, Alfred attempted to worm away from the other, retreating away from the finger that wanted to impede upon his inner walls. England saw this, and frowned. He hovered over Alfred once more, grabbed his chin, tilting it up before locking their lips again. Alfred attempted to move away, but the grip was strong, and...well, he still felt like shit. Slowly, his mind was blanking out, and he only focused on the lips ravishing his mouth.

Taking the moment where Alfred was distracted, England slipped the finger, slowly, into the ring of muscle, and as expected, the walls clamped down upon the digit, preventing further entry. England let the finger stay there, allowing for Alfred to get used to the feeling of penetration. From the tightness, he could tell the other was still a virgin down there. Oh, this was going to be fun...

Once the muscles had relaxed, the finger probed deeper, wiggling as it slid slowly into the hot cavern. Alfred's breathing slowly became labored as he tried to keep his mind off the intrusive digit. Ignorance was bliss, as he had heard somewhere.

Well, bliss didn't last too long. A second digit found its way inside, causing the American to jerk and twitch. The fingers only probed and thrusted at first, but damn it hurt...Was this what Arthur had to go through all the time?

A new pain snapped Alfred out of his thoughts; the fingers were scissoring him, stretching him out. Alfred doubled over, even though he laid on his side, once more attempting to escape the pain. England stayed patient, poking about with skill, attempting to locate-

"Hrn...Ahhh-!"

Oh, he found it. Just to confirm the spot, England poked at the same location. The same, delicious moan resonated, and the pirate smirked. He then removed his fingers, much to a horny American's dismay. He positioned himself at the other's entrance, and looked down at the slightly pouting, extremely flushed face.

"Don't be like that, luv...I'll be sure to send you to heaven..." England said, running the back of one finger down Alfred's face, tracing the outline of it. The feather-like touch sent shivers down Alfred's spine, as he stared into the intoxicating eyes he had been avoiding for awhile. Ah...so green...like a forest...a forest that one could get lost in and not find a way out...

Even those intoxicating eyes were not enough to distract Alfred from the searing pain that torn through him. Something hot...pulsing...he could feel it. It was inside...It was burning...it was tearing him apart...

England hissed at the velvety heat that surrounded his sensitive manhood, summoning all of his willpower not to pound the other into the bed. Besides, with the walls so tightly around him, he couldn't exactly move if he wanted to.

Strangled moans and gasps choked its way out of Alfred as he attempted to retreat yet again. It was uncomfortable. It felt like he was being forcefully torn in two. How the hell did Arthur enjoy this...

"Breathe, luv..." a distant voice called. That was what Alfred did. He was going to do anything, as long as it helped to ease the pain. A few shaky breaths, he attempted, and slowly, very slowly, the pain started to ease up, though it was never gone.

England knew the other was used to the feeling, for he felt the walls release their death-grip on his manhood. Slowly he pulled out, and slid back into Alfred, rocking his hips at a slow pace. The heat was slowly gnawing away at his resolve and willpower, but he had to go slow.

Alfred grunted and huffed in pain as he felt the length poke about inside him. It was uncomfortable, he felt like he was going to rip into two any minute now. He could feel something else inside...something slick...wet...

The red that stained his length was a firm reminder that he had taken a virgin, and his will remained a bit longer. Thrusting at a few different angles, he attempted to find that one spot once more. Though the blood helped to act as a lube of sorts, he knew from the other's grunting and tears that the ordeal was still painful. One hand reached out to latch itself onto Alfred's length, and started to slowly pump in rhythm with the thrusts in an attempt to distract the other from the pain.

Alfred tried to concentrate on the strokes rather than the thrusts, but it didn't help as much as he hoped it would. He didn't want this anymore...It hurted...Fuck, was he bleeding? He didn't know anymore.

"S—stop...T...take it...AAAAH!"

One very wanton moan resounded the room. Waves of pleasure jolted his body like electrocution when one particular was scraped by the hot tip of England's length.

The pirate took that as a good sign, and smirked. "What was that you were saying...?" he asked, his voice low and husky. Such a smooth voice, such that chills were running through his body again.

The pain was starting to return. He needed that feeling again...he wanted to feel the pleasure. His mind was filled with nothing but his own need, nothing but the want of the pain to go away. Once more, his hips rolled, just a bit, to show the other his need.

England did not need anything else to push him over the edge. Pulling out almost completely, he slammed back into Alfred, stabbing the other's sweet spot with such intensity that Alfred threw his head back and practically screamed. His back arched up quite sharply, the bound hands scratching fervently at the ropes.

Knowing that the other was dancing on his palm, England reached around, and untied the ropes. Alfred's hands fell weakly to his side. As England thrusted into him once more, waves of pleasure coursed feverishly through him, like a wildfire, burning everything it touched. His hands grabbed desperately at the sheets, almost tearing them if he wasn't so weak at the moment. With each stab at that sweet spot, the room was filled with a loud, wanton cry of pleasure, occasionally cut by the wet sound of skin slapping against each other. His vision was now mostly spots of white, pure bliss as he drowned in the pleasure presented.

The next thing he knew, the heat that had been building in his stomach was slowly moving down, until he let out a particularly loud scream, vision completely whited as warm seed splurted onto his stomach. He could feel something splash about his walls, something warm...

No good...his consciousness was slipping. All he heard was a voice, growing further away. "Are you alright? Ah, you're asleep..." a deep chuckle, with a somewhat sinister tone to it, could be discerned in the darkness. For just a split second, he could hear the voice draw just a bit closer. "I hope you'll never forget this..."

"...fred...lfred...Alfred!" a voice called. Alfred could feel his head pounding, and his eyelids felt so heavy that they probably won't lift if he tried to open them.

But they did, and when he did, he immediately raised an arm to shield his eye from the blinding light above. Bad move, the sudden movement sent waves of pain down his body. A black silhouette of someone hovered above him. His vision was too out of focused to see who it was, but from the annoyed British accent, the faint outline of messy hair, he knew it was Arthur. He had returned...thank goodness...

"Oh, thank goodness, you're awake. Are you alright? You returned in such a horrible condition! You have a terrible fever too...Alfred?" Arthur asked. His rant was interrupted by Alfred's eyes suddenly growing wide, and his mouth gaped. The other immediately shook his head, and looked to the side.

"I-It's nothing..." he said, and pulled the sheets over his head. "Can you leave me alone...? I wanna sleep..." he mumbled. Arthur huffed, and crossed his arms, wanting to call the other an ungrateful brat, but he felt pity since he rarely saw Alfred so weak and helpless.

"Alright...You sleep well. I'll prepare beef stew for dinner. You'll be getting an earful for me, so don't think I'm being nice or anything!" Arthur said, before walking out and closing the door.

Alfred had remembered what had happened. He felt something trickle down his leg...something wet..something sticky. How Arthur dragged him into the bedroom and not notice it was beyond Alfred...

But the real reason why he was staring at Arthur, was that for a moment...the pirate's smug face appeared on Arthur, half-lidded lusty eyes looking at Alfred, a smirk that taunted him...and the words replayed in his head.

"I hope you'll never forget this..."

A/N: And...Lame ending is laaaaaaame! If you read this through then...I don't know what to say ; w ; / I'm very happy if you enjoyed it! Feedback is most welcome, but not flames!