Disclaimer: I own nothing. Rights go to the respected owners. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

A/N: Hey everyone! This story is actually just going to be a compilation of very short stories. I write short works every once in awhile, sometimes for events, requests, friends, or even if I just have a spur of the moment idea. These have all been posted on either my tumblr account, or my livejournal, but I thought it might be helpful to consolidate them here for those of you who don't follow me on those other sights. Anyway, hope you like them!

Title: Lost

Warnings: Implied sex

Summary: Arthur takes a wrong turn that leads him to the love of his life.

You'd be surprised how hard it is to keep up a long distance relationship. The letters, emails, web chats and virtual hugs are never really enough. I find it shocking, every time I think about it, that my love lives halfway around the world and yet I have so much faith in him. His name is Alfred; Alfred F. Jones. My first thought was that that name wasn't terribly romantic, but it's grown on me. Shouting it out in bed will do that to you.

Anyway, I'm in love with Alfred who lives on a small family ranch in the-middle-of-nowhere Oklahoma. We actually met by coincidence once, as I was studying abroad in the United States. During my summer break, I'd decided to try and take a cross country drive that so many Americans insist on taking. After all, how hard could it be to follow the interstate all the way from Los Angeles to Florida? Easy, right? No. apparently being good at navigating the M1 did nothing to help me plot the American roads. I'd made a wrong turn somewhere, or perhaps I missed a sign, but I wound up off the main road, with nothing but plains alongside me. Long story short, I was lost, and as much as I told myself I wouldn't ask for directions, I wound up pulling up to a ranch that I'd circled at least three times. Perhaps the owner could direct me to the interstate.

Knocking on the door was quite unnerving, after all I had no idea where I was and I felt like I was imposing. Not soon after, a young man, blonde and tanned to perfection answered the door. His eyes looked like the vast American sky, cloudless and clear blue. I momentarily lost thought as I just stared at him.

"Hey there, stranger," he smiled at me kindly, like we were long lost friends. "Something I can help ya with?"

I nodded and shyly motioned to my car.

"Ah yes, well-"

But I never got to explain myself, because my future lover's eyes twinkled with bemusement.

"You're British!"

I felt my cheeks flush just a tad, and smiled shyly.

"I am, yes. Born and raised in Manchester."

His grin rose like the sun, and set across his face. He grabbed at my hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Well great to meet someone from so far away! The name's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones."

I couldn't help but return his smile as I shook his hand.

"Arthur Kirkland. Charmed."

That's basically how I met Alfred; an accident, a wrong turn on the pathway of life. He did wind up giving me directions, but when he invited me inside for some beverages we took the first step toward a relationship that neither one of us knew would become incredibly strong. Drinks turned into staying the night, and Alfred insisted that since there was no one in the guest room, and he rarely got any visitors, why not stay the week? So I did, because not only was the accommodation free, but Alfred was great company. We'd talk and listen, and I'd get a perspective I'd never once thought about before. Also, Alfred wasn't exactly an eyesore, so I didn't have a problem when he asked if I'd extend the visit from just one week to two. I agreed, and realized that time does really fly when you're enjoying yourself.

"Ya wanna try and milk, Bessie?" Alfred had asked me on my last day of my five-minute-turned-fortnight stay with him. "Though, she might not take ya seriously in that get up."

He looked me up and down and I could feel my cheeks heat. It didn't help that it was nearly 90 degrees Fahrenheit out, and the outfit Alfred was referring to consisted of black trousers, a white dress shirt, sweater vest and tie. It was the only thing I'd packed.

"Oh hush up," I'd answered, and he smiled and waved me over. He got up from his stool and told me to sit down.

"Alright redcoat," he replied cheekily, though with no harm intended. "So you're gonna grab one utter like this," he demonstrated. "And squeeze strong, but gentle, got it?"

I could feel my face reddening again but I ignored it. I reached for an utter, grasped it firmly and started to squeeze, but before I could get too far:

"No, no, Artie, you're doin' it all wrong," Alfred said as he laid his large calloused hands over my own. "Gotta squeeze gently," he encouraged as he clutched my hand slowly and squeezed.

Something inside of me hit its breaking point, and I shot up from the stool. I'd tried to run, so Alfred wouldn't catch sight of the slight problem I was having in my trousers, but before I could get to the barn door, he caught me. I'm not sure whether I was shocked, exhilarated or just plain delighted, when Alfred turned me around and caught my lips. We didn't talk about what we were doing, for there was no time for words. He ripped off my tie and vest, and the buttons that were once attached to my shirt went flying. I aided in pulling his shirt up over his head, and sometime in between our trousers went missing. Somehow the evening had gone from milking a cow to making love in the farmhouse long into the night.

That morning I woke up in a bed of straw, Alfred's limbs tangled amongst mine. He was up already, and had a bright grin on his face as he lent forward and kissed me. It should have been much more awkward than this. I should have been scrambling to put some clothes on, or trying to fuse together some type of excuse, but Alfred's smile and warm skin put me so at ease, I felt perfectly content naked and covered in hay.

Late that afternoon, after a light lunch (after a relatively heavy night) I had to wish Alfred goodbye. As much as I'd wanted to stay with the man, my holiday was over and I had to head back. It really did kill me a bit inside as I told him it was unlikely I'd be back.

"We're on the quarter system, and I've only got nine or so weeks left before I have to go back to England."

He frowned, but then took my hand and led me to my long forgotten car.

"Well that's alright, we can write each other letters," he smiled hopefully. "And I've got this computer I've been meaning to set up back in the house," he squeezed my hand tight. "Oh! One more thing before you go." Alfred let go of my hand and smiled warmly. "It's a tradition out here that I give ya something to remember me by."

I cocked my head and protested.

"No, that's quite alright. You really don't have to give me anythi-"

But I stopped talking halfway through as Alfred pulled off his baggy, plaid shirt. I thought perhaps he was up for one last round before I left, but I realized that wasn't it when he handed the clothing to me.

"It's not much," Alfred smiled and laughed. "But it's yours to remember me by."

I didn't know what to say or do, and the first thing that came to my mind was to return the pleasure. I reached up and undid my silk tie, pulling it over my head. I felt a little silly as I handed it to him.

"Ehm… and for you, to remember your redcoat by."

Alfred let out his happy rumbles of laughter that I'd gotten so accustomed to over the past two weeks. A smile broke out on his face which was quickly reciprocated on mine.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, Arthur, I'm really glad you got lost."

I smiled at him and he grinned back.

"Me too, Alfred, me too."