Hetalia - Axis Powers 1. Time for Bed

Disclaimer: Own nothing

Note: This is what happens when I refuse to sleep. I write stories about people refusing to sleep. Anyway, I always liked FACE fics, so it's all good.

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8:30, the time of the day Arthur feared most of all. His husband didn't understand his resentment for this time but since when did Francis ever understand him? He pulled himself reluctantly away from his paper work to face the daily challenge.

He approached the living room where his two boys sat playing. Matthew was silently in the corner with some legos while Alfred moved his toy truck around the floor noisily.

"Time for bed, you two."

Like an angel toddler in disguise, Matthew began picking up his toys. Alfred continued to play like he didn't hear his father. Arthur gave him a chance to do as he was told, just like the chances he gave him every night.

Matthew finished and was already on his way to brush his teeth and give Papa a goodnight kiss. Alfred stubbornly kept playing.

"You heard me, young man."

The toddler finally looked up at his father.

"But I'm not-"

"I know you're not sleepy. And I don't care. To bed. Now."

Alfred shook his head with a pout, leading father and son to have a stare down. Arthur wasn't going to resort to bribery again, not when he was determined to wean his son off the sugary snacks and burgers. Threats it was.

"You'll get no dessert for a week."

Alfred looked scared for a moment, then his expression returned to defiance.

"I don't care."

_More like you know your pushover Papa will give you dessert anyway, you little wanker_. Arthur thought with a scowl. Francis was way too soft on him.

"You won't get to watch any telly."

"I'm not going to bed!"

"Then you'll never have ice cream-"

"Mon cher," that damn flowery voice had to come now of all times.

Arthur scolded as his husband came into the room with an amused grin on his face. Francis always liked to brag how the boys liked him better. It was all fun and games, however and Arthur understood that. Besides, someone had to be the tough parent. Francis smiled at Alfred.

"Your father says it's time for bed. So you need to go."

"But I don't want to!"

"Oh? Why not?" Francis faked a pout.

"Because I'm still playing."

"Very well. You can stay up."

"WHAT?!" "Really?"

The outbursts from the other two came at exactly the same time. Alfred was smiling giddily. Arthur was glaring at his French lover until Francis held up a finger.

"But just so you know, we only make you two go to bed so you don't have to see us expressing our love for each other. We know how gross you boys think it is. But if you're okay with it, let's start cuddling Arthur."

Francis was about to kiss a flushing Arthur on the lips when a repulsed Alfred dropped his toy.

"Okay! I'll go to sleep."

He was about to run off when Francis grabbed him.

"You're forgetting something."

Francis leaned his head in so that Alfred could give him his mandatory kiss on the cheek. Alfred was okay with those kinds of kisses. Just not gross cootie-filled kisses that couples did. Alfred went up to Arthur on his own.

"Night Daddy."

Arthur got his kiss too and the boy left. He was happy but also sad. Sad because he was now going to hear the bragging.

"Told you I was better with them."

"Shut up, Frog."


	2. Haircut

He felt his little boy tremble in his arms, so Arthur gave his tiny hand a gentle squeeze to reassure him. Haircuts were always hard on Matthew ever since he accidentally cut himself on a sharp object. It was horrifying but Arthur knew that his son still had to get over this fear.

Alfred was upset with him for putting his brother through this. He didn't understand why they couldn't just grow their hair out. To him, Matthew's feelings of security was worth an unkept mane.

Francis sided with Arthur, of course, so there was nothing the boys could do. Miss Vogel knew about Matthew's dilemna, so she was being as sweet and gentle as possible, offering small conversation while she took Matthew out of Arthur's arms and placed him on a child's seat shaped like an elephant. Alfred got the giraffe, with Mr. Zwingli as his barber. He and his sister looked almost like twins, especially after Miss Vogel cut her hair to match her brother's. It would have seemed odd to Arthur that an unwedded woman didn't have the same surname as her brother except that his twin boys had the same situation.

Erika Vogel placed a hand on Matthew's head and smiled.

"It will be okay," she spoke in her usual soft voice, "I won't let anything hurt you."

Matthew managed to stop trembling for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

"What for?"

"I…I don't want to make your job difficult."

"Oh, Matthew. You've done nothing wrong, mon cher," Francis offered.

"That's right," Erika added sweetly, "There's no reason to apologize."

"I'm sorry."

"Is he apologizing for apologizing?" Basch Zwingli asked incredulously.

"He does that all the time. Right, bro?" Alfred smiled, also attempting to ease the tension and soothe Matthew.

The younger twin was completely still as Erika took her time to tenderly trim his locks. Basch was already finished with Alfred and on to another customer by the time she finally finished. Matthew smiled in relief. The deed was done. He was scooped up in Arthur's arms and given a big hug.

"There's my brave boy. You did very well."

"Yeah. He did very good," Alfred stated.

"_Well_, Alfred. The correct term is well."

"I say what I want."

Arthur was now glaring at his older son. Alfred hid in Francis's arms as a means of protection. Francis gave Arthur a wink.

"I love haircut days. I remember when you tried to copy my hairstyle. Remember that, mon ami?"

The two husbands were leaving the shop with their sons. Alfred perked up in interest.

"You tried to grow your hair out? Why couldn't we?"

"We're not having this discussion again!" Arthur sighed.

"I want my ice cream now."

Arthur paused and looked at Alfred, noticing that Francis was looking guilty.

"What ice cream are you talking about?"

Matthew, surprisingly, spoke up.

"Papa promised that if we let ourselves get haircuts, we could have ice cream."

Arthur glared at Francis accusingly.

"I told you no more sweets for them," he really meant Alfred.

The boys looked ready to cry from being denied their promised reward. Arthur felt guilty. Francis spoke up.

"If you break a promise, then I will too. I'll tell the boys about the love letter in high school-"

"Okay okay! Let's go get them ice cream," Arthur knew when he was defeated.


	3. French Food

Francis was lenient on many things but not on this. When he made food from his culture, he expected his sons to honor his efforts enough to eat it. Yes, he was a proud French chef and would be the first to admit it. But he also knew that it was better for his boys to get used to this now so by the time they visited their loving grandparents in Paris, Francis' loving mother wouldn't have a heart attack when her famous tripe recipe was insulted. Matthew was very good about eating whatever was provided for him, even if he would cringe at times. It was Alfred who downright refused to try a bite.

"It's snails!"

"It's escargot, the appetizer. If you cannot eat anything at the start of the meal, how are you going to handle the rest of the evening?" Francis asked.

Alfred made a face and pushed his plate away, or would have except Francis' hand prevented the plate from moving.

"I hate it when we have to eat snails! They're gross."

"How are they anymore gross than the burgers you love so much?"

"Snails aren't burgers, they're gross. I'm not gonna eat any."

"Then no dessert and this time I mean it."

Arthur had oddly been silent throughout the conversation. Francis hated being the stern one when Arthur was so good at it. It seemed that his English husband was willing to let him take control.

"That's not fair!" tears began welling up in Alfred's eyes.

"You throw a fit, mon petit, and you're going straight to your room," Francis hated, hated being the bad guy.

"But why does Daddy get to throw his snails away and I have to eat mine?!" Alfred demanded with a cry.

Pause. Francis looked accusingly at his husband. Arthur now had the face of a burglar caught red-handed. True, he _did_ have a habit of sitting close to the trash bin on French food nights but surely-

Francis got up and noted with a scowl the discarded escargot. It wasn't often that the tables were turned and Francis was the one glaring at Arthur but when it did happen, Francis proved to be scary.

Arthur laughed nervously and shot a glare at Alfred.

"You rat."

Alfred was now laughing. It was so weird to see a grown-up in trouble, especially when that grown-up was his dad. He thought Papa knew about Daddy throwing the food away but was pleasantly surprised. Now at least his father had to suffer with him and misery loved nothing more than company.

Matthew, meanwhile, had finished his plate. Francis patted him on the head.

"Cake only for us tonight, Matthew. Daddy and Alfred must eat the rest of the escargot."

Alfred looked ready to cry again and this time so did Arthur.


	4. Scary Dreams

"No, Alfred," Arthur told the teary eyed boy, "You should've listened to me and not watched that show like I told you. You're going to bed now."

"But I'm scared!"

"I told you you would. And I told you that you weren't going to get to sleep with Papa and I when you did get scared. Matthew will sleep close by, you'll be in the same room."

"But…but…"

Now to lay the guilt card. Arthur offered him a reassuring smile.

"Besides, if those monsters are real, you wouldn't want to sleep with your parents and leave Matthew all alone to defend himself. Would Superman do such a thing?"

It worked like a charm. Arthur knew exactly how to get to Alfred's hero complex and his love for his twin at the same time. The small boy set his jaw in determination.

"No, he wouldn't. I'll be with Matthew and protect him. But," his voice wavered just a tad, "Can we leave the light on? You know, so it will be easier for me to fight the monsters if they come?"

"You can have two nightlights on," Arthur negotiated.

"Deal."

Later that night, Arthur was resting but his bushy eyebrows were cringing as he slept. He dreamt of his boys in their teenage years. Matthew-terror of all terrors-gets a boyfriend. Arthur felt sick to his stomach. Then Alfred decides to move out of the house. Out of the house! Where will he go?!

The nightmare continued. Matthew graduated with his doctorate and didn't need him anymore. Alfred was having his wedding, getting married to that little Russian boy in his preschool class that Arthur always felt uneasy about.

The English man woke up with a cold sweat. His husband sensed the mood and shifted to him.

"What's wrong, mon ami? A nightmare?"

Arthur hated it when his composure fell. He offered a strained smile at Francis.

"Just a small fright," he admitted.

"That's good."

"Maybe we should let our boys sleep with us tonight?" Arthur suggested.

Francis shot him a disapproving look.

"You had the dream again," it wasn't a question.


	5. Dating Advice

"Papa?" Matthew peaked his head into the kitchen where his French father was preparing food.

Francis looked up at his young son, adding spices to the soup pot that was simmering. Arthur had wanted to help with dinner yet again and Francis was running out of excuses to keep the man away from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mathhew? Was there something you needed?"

The boy edged closer and shuffled his feet.

"Um…I wanted to ask you about how you and Daddy met."

This gave the adult reason to pause.

"Why do you want to know all of the sudden?"

"For an assignment."

"I see. Well, your father and I knew each other since primary school. He come to my school in Paris and that's when I was smitten. It took your father a very long time to agree to date me but such is the rules of love."

Matthew seemed very interested now.

"Can I ask how your first date went?"

Francis was flattered that his son was so willing to learn about his parents' history. There wasn't anything wrong with answering a few questions, provided they wouldn't lead to anything too adult for his ears.

"Of course. You see…" Francis trailed off when he remembered that something 'too adult' happened on that night, "Um…perhaps another question is in order."

The toddler thought for a moment.

"Um. What about when you decided to get married? How did that turn out?"

Again, something that would led to him discussing something too adult. Francis suddenly smiled when he had an idea.

"I know. I'll tell you about when I went with his family for dinner. His parents' dinner was simply terrible and Arthur was so upset when I insulted the cooking. I always thought it was cute when he was angry. I decided to make it up to him by," Francis trailed off and frowned.

"How?" Matthew pressed.

Darn it, Francis forgot about that 'too adult' topic too.

"I…uh…gave him the top bunk of my bed," he fibbed.

"Oh. Alfred likes having the top bunk but I don't like it that much. I'm scared of heights."

"Do you have enough information for your little project?"

"What? Oh yes. Thank you, Papa," the boy left.

**Later that night…**

Arthur was embraced the minute he entered the master bedroom.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, noticing his husband was more enthusiastic than normal.

"I just realized how much spice we had in our love life, mon ami."

The voice sounded excited and sexy at the same time. Arhur couldn't respond for his lips were sealed with a kiss.

**The next day…**

Matthew offered a quick glance to the silver-haired German classmate. Maybe if he asked him to a slumber party, it would make a great first step. From what he gathered from Papa, it would be a good idea. He would be all too glad to let Gilbert have the top bunk. He never liked heights anyway.


	6. Gilbert

Mr. Edelstein's class was comprised of only the most intelligent students, at least according to Mr. Edelstein. Matthew was happy to have the honor of being one of his students and getting to listen to him play the piano was always fun.

Gilbert didn't appreciate hearing the compositions all the time, suggesting once that they listen to the radio once in a while. Matthew believed that Mr. Edelstein was still refusing to speak to him after that.

Alfred didn't get to be in the class, which didn't seem to bother him since he preferred Miss Héderváry anyway.

In Matthew's class, Mr. Edelstein had interesting pictures he figured would get the children's minds working creatively. Matthew hardly paid much attention to them until he saw a new one.

"That's Mr. Zwingli!" he exclaimed.

"You know that cheapskate, Williams?" asked Mr. Edelstein, suddenly coming up from behind the boy.

"Yeah. He cuts my hair sometimes."

Matthew always felt self conscious when he had the teacher's full attention. Mr. Edelstein was looking at him in shock.

"That idiot told me he and his sister moved away three years ago! I knew he was avoiding me!" Mr. Edelstein then said a word which Matthew couldn't ever repeat.

The students were shocked when their teacher suddenly ran off at full speed away from the classroom, darting away from even the building until he was out of sight.

Gilbert smiled at Matthew, the first smile he ever gave to him. Matthew's heart fluttered.

"You managed to get rid of the teacher! You're the coolest kid ever!"

Matthew nearly swooned like that lady he saw on TV once. Gilbert was always going on about how awesome he was so to hear such a compliment made his heart swell in pride.

"T-thank you," now was Matthew's chance, "I was wondering if you wanted to have a slumber party sometime. It's okay if you can't."

Gilbert took a minute to think.

"Well, I'll have to ask my parents. And mein bruder may want to come."

"You have a brother too?" Matthew asked.

"A little one. He's annoying. He tries to act like the big brother."

"My brother does too. Even though we're the same age."

The two agreed to ask their parents later about the night over.

Meanwhile Arthur was at work when he felt his overprotective daddy senses tingling. What was going to happen now?


	7. Overprotective Daddy

It was Arthur's turn to pick up the boys from preschool. He had to drag Alfred from fingerpainting. The toddler wanted to finish his red, white and blue eagle that looked more like just a smudge of colors to Arthur. Now in Mr. Edelstein's class, he found Matthew playing with a silver haired boy.

Matthew walked up to him with the other boy in tow. Arthur wasn't sure why but he didn't like the way that boy had his hands behind his back. Neither did he like that too-wide-to-be-real smile thing he had going on. This was a mischievous boy if he ever saw one. Arthur would know. He spent time with Alfred on a daily basis.

"Daddy, this is Gilbert, my friend. We were wondering if he can spend the night."

Arthur's heart dropped significantly like it was submerged in ice water. The expression must have shown since Matthew was now looking worried. Arthur barely felt Alfred tugging his hand several times.

"If he can have a slumber party, can I have one too? I want to invite a friend too."

"But what if we don't have enough room for four of us?" Matthew asked in worry.

"Why do you get a friend to spend the night and I don't? How can you-"

The two boys began arguing but it all sounded like background noise to the adult. Matthew wanted a boy to spend the night. He couldn't help but think where all that would lead. If he said yes now, what would stop him from saying yes when they were sixteen and ready to start a relationship? How did he know this Gilbert kid wasn't a bad influence? Maybe he was already eyeing Matthew like a piece of meat. He couldn't let this happen.

"No, Matthew. He can't spend the night."

The boys stopped their arguing, their faces shocked and hurt. Especially Matthew's.

"But…but…"

"I said no," Arthur pressed. Matthew usually didn't push the matter once he got a decline.

Gilbert was now glaring at the adult. What a rude, disrespectful child. Arthur knew he was right to say no.

"But I have so many friends that would love to spend the night! Having Kiku over would be rocking. And so would having Ivan," Alfred was cut off right there.

"I don't want you hanging out with that Ivan boy any longer."

"Why?"

"Because that's the Russian boy who always stares at you."

"Papa says that's because he likes me," Alfred defended.

"Which is why I don't want you hanging out with him."

"Oh," Alfred said like he understood, then added, "I don't get it."

The boy named Gilbert placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder. The innocent act made Arthur's blood boil and he grabbed Matthew's hand.

"The answer is no, for the final time. Now come on, you two. We need to go home."

Matthew never questioned his father before but right now he knew this wasn't right. He should be able to spend time with friends if he wanted to.

He was going to talk to Papa about this. Maybe he could persuade Daddy.


	8. Papa to the Rescue

He felt the chilling presence enter the room, so he could no longer pay attention to his light Sherlock Holmes novel. Arthur glanced at his husband who was now looming over his chair. The Britain was about to get up in order to confront whatever was wrong when Francis held him in place, his stern look casting down on him.

"Matthew told me that you wouldn't let him have a slumber party."

Shoot, his son brought Francis against him. Arthur was determined to win this battle either way, even when Francis was intimidating when angered.

"Is there a problem with my decision?" he asked his French lover.

"I would like to ask why you decided that. It's not even a school night tonight and according to Matthew, Gilbert's parents would have agreed easily."

"I simply thought it was for the best," Arthur had no idea why he had to defend himself.

"I would understand you chaperoning them once they reach their teenage years, even though I will still consider you overprotective when that time comes too. But they're only five years old, mon ami."

He set the book down on the end table next to him. He remembered the Gilbert kid and how close he seemed to Matthew. Arthur glared at Francis but it was a feeble glare in comparison to Francis's fatherly look of disapproval. How was it that Francis was the scary parent when mad?

"It's not them I don't trust. It's their friends. That Gilbert child touched Matthew."

"Touched him? Where?"

"On the shoulder."

Francis slapped his forehead and sucked in a breath. Arthur was supposed to be the smart one but his IQ always dropped significantly when he was in overprotective daddy mode.

"Next week, I'll let Matthew have his slumber party."

Now Arthur mustered the courage to stand up.

"What! You can't-"

"He's my son too, Arthur."

Uh oh. No nickname that time. That only meant that Francis meant business. There was no discussing this. Arthur slumped in his seat, feeling the low blow of defeat. Now Francis's look softened to one of amusement. He kissed his fuming husband on the forehead.

"I love you, mon lapin."

"I love you too, you bloody wanker," Arthur's voice was only a tad sour, he was already melting in Francis's hands, "You know I'm going to watch them closely, of course."

"I know. I wouldn't have you any other way."

"I swear to you, though, if that Gilbert kid touches him again…"

"Please don't threaten a child, mon ami," Francis sighed in annoyance at his overbearing man.


	9. Ludwig

Gilbert's younger brother really was something else. Ludwig was only three years old but cleaned his room everyday, took naps when he was supposed to, ate his veggies even if he didn't like them and minded the adults with such patience that would rival that of a sergeant general's. Matthew was undoubtably impressed by the younger kid and so were his parents, if their gawking was anything to go by.

The two German boys were going to spend the night, Ludwig insisting on coming over to (as he put it) keep an eye on Gilbert. Alfred's slumber party will take place a week after this one. He had to choose between two friends, so he was in their room going over the pros and cons of his choices.

Arthur was very attentive to everything going on between Matthew and Gilbert, especially after Gilbert patted Matthew on the head.

"What are you two up to now?" asked his British father.

Matthew loved him but he was getting a bit overbearing. Gilbert and Matthew were still watching the same movie as last time the question was asked. Gilbert took a gulp out of his soda.

"The movie's only halfway done," he told Arthur.

"Oh. I suppose movies are longer than when I was a lad," Arthur smiled.

"You mean in the year 1890?" Gilbert asked.

Glaring, Arthur growled at Gilbert like a rabid dog.

"Why you little wanker! I don't have to feed you my food, you know!"

"Your cooking sucks anyway."

Before Arthur could retort, Ludwig stood up and crossed his arms.

"You know better than to speak to your elders like that, Bruder. You should apologize."

Arthur smiled in pleasure. But the happy look was short lived when Gilbert ventured to speak again.

"I guess. And his old man heart can't take much anger. His blood pressure, after all."

If Francis didn't make it in time to drag Arthur away, Gilbert might have not lived to be six. Matthew offered his friend a nervous smile.

"I'm sorry about Father. Please don't be too hard on him."

"Don't worry. I'm not really upset with him. He's just really fun to make mad," Gilbert confessed.

That was fascinating for Matthew to hear. He would never have the courage to make an adult angry at him on purpose. Gilbert was the coolest kid ever. Matthew couldn't help but feel his face heating up as he thought about it.

"Are you alvight? You're all red."

Matthew looked away embarrassed.

"Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

"Matthew. Can I ask your parents for another soda?" Ludwig for some reason asked Matthew first then asked his parents. Why he felt the need for a double affirmative was beyond him.

"Sure. You only had one so far. Gilbert's already on his third can."

When Ludwig left, Matthew ventured to ask.

"Having a little brother must be fun. I wish I had one. Or even a pet."

"I have a bird," Gilbert informed.

"Really!" Matthew exclaimed. This guy had everything.

"Yeah. He's cool."

"What's his name?"

"Gilbird."

Interesting. Maybe he should get a pet and call it Matcat. That had a ring to it. He would have to ask.

Meanwhile, Alfred decided on Ivan. He would invite Kiku some other time.


	10. Wrong PB&J

Alfred was nestled between his best friends, Kiku and Ivan. The Russian boy still didn't talk much except to Alfred, so he and Kiku rarely conversed. Alfred cringed at his sandwich. His father was never more intent on weaning him off of sweets, so the peanut butter and jelly had no extra sugar and the bread was made of whole wheat that felt grainy against Alfred's tongue.

Daddy had a knack for making everything that was supposed to be fun dull as world news on tv. This peanut butter and jelly sandwich was too gross to even deserve its title. It was more like a peanut butter and yucky sandwich.

Kiku had what he called a bento, which Alfred would guess was just another word for a lot of rice and some pickled veggies. He would ask to trade except Kiku's lunch sounded even less appealing.

Ivan, on the other hand, had something weird. It looked like a big round loaf of bread that had some cabbage and other things stuffed inside it. What was really strange was how much of it he had, even Alfred didn't think he would have been able to eat all of it by himself. Kiku dared to ask about it.

"Ivan-san, why do you have so many piroshiki?"

The Russian boy frowned at his friends.

"My big sister learned how to make it and now she insists on cooking for me. She's always afraid of me being hungry, so she made all of these."

"They look good for someone who just learned how to make it," Kiku commented.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Alfred said suddenly.

Ivan finished chewing and swallowing before speaking.

"Yeah. I do. Her name is Irina. She's nice, I guess. But always overprotective."

"That's so cool."

"Alfred-san. I find it unusual for you that you have yet to eat anything. You're usually finished with your lunch by now."

Alfred turned to Kiku with a sad smile, then looked down at his meal. He was in no hurry to eat this monstrosity even though he was hungry. It just tasted too weird. Ivan stared at him intently.

"Do you not like your lunch?" asked the young Russian child.

Alfred just shook his head sadly, then explained to them about how his father made it differently today. The sandwich was all wrong without any sugar.

"The jelly should have some sugar. If it's made from fruit," Kiku offered.

"It's not enough!" Alfred cried.

"How much sugar do you need?" Kiku exclaimed.

Ivan seemed to sense bad tension, so he offered one of his many breads. Alfred thanked him out of politeness and stared at it. He never had whatever this was before. What did Kiku say it was called? Piroshiki? He took a bite.

And then happily munched on it. It wasn't sweet with sugar or anything but it was much better than his peanut butter and yucky sandwich. After he was full up, he thanked Ivan.

At the end of the day, he proposed the question. Ivan was more than happy to spend the night. This was going to be awesome.


	11. Ivan is Mad

Papa and Daddy were still chatting by the time Alfred came back into the kitchen. He had been playing with Matthew, leaving on Papa's request. But that had been a while ago.

The two noticed their son coming in and spoke in hush tones. Arthur glared but stepped back in defeat. Papa smiled at Alfred in victory.

A few days later, Alfred was at Ivan's house. The place looked very nice, clean and neat. There wasn't a knick knack on the shelf that wasn't right where it was for a purpose. Those little Russian dolls were set up in order by size and color.

Irina was only ten years old but acted like a second mother to Ivan. She offered them cookies before sending them off to play. Ivan and Alfred found an empty box and pretended it was a space ship.

"Wow dude! I'll totally be a space man when I grow up."

"Me too," Ivan added. Alfred smiled at him."Let's make a promise. We'll go to the moon together."

"Okay," his friend readily agreed.

After playing with the box for a while, Alfred became hungry. Ivan seemed amuse that he was already working up an appetite. Irina however seemed to be pleased that her little brother had a friend with such passion for eating. She whipped up some quick dishes and he ate them all.

"You'll grow into such a strong man at this right, little Fredka."

Alfred paused mid bite on some sort of meat dish.

"Fredka?" he repeated.

"I like the name. I want to call you that too," proclaimed Ivan.

Alfred turn to him.

"Then I'll choose a nickname for you. Um...I know! Ivy!"

There was a bit of a silence as Ivan took a moment to process that name. He frowned uncertainly, looking up at the ceiling as he considered the new title that Alfred had offered.

"I'm not sure that nickname suits me though..."

"Sure it does," Alfred insisted with a grin, "It sounds like your name and is all clingy like you and everywhere like you."

The young boy completely missed the hurt look on his friend's face. Irina decided to leave the room to let them sort it out for themselves.

"You think I'm clingy?" Ivan demanded with a scowl.

In a rare instance, Alfred was at a loss for words, wondering what he did wrong. Everything was fine just a few seconds ago.

"Well...I mean you do kind of tag along whenever I'm doing something at school. You don't seem to do anything unless I'm doing it."

Ivan stared down at the floor. If he glared any harder, there would be lasers out of his eyes. Alfred realized that he made a terrible mistake but didn't know how to fix what he said.

"Ivan, I didn't mean-"

"I won't follow you or do anything with you anymore then."

Alfred thought he heard a crash but realized that was his own heart breaking.


	12. Call Me Ivy

Alfred was still at Ivan's house but now he felt like an intruder. Ivan didn't want to do anything with him: play, eat or even speak to him.

The young guest decided to make things right but how? Whenever Papa or Daddy was angry at the other, he would give his husband flowers. Daddy always gave roses and Papa offered lilies. Alfred found Irina cleaning off cooked food from a skillet.

"Miss Irina?"

The older girl smiled at Alfred. She knew Alfred made a mistake but was all too forgiving with any friend of her brother's.

"Yes, Fredka?"

"Do you know what Ivan's favorite flowers are? I want to give him some."

The girl frowned in thought.

"His favorites are sunflowers but we don't have any."

Seeing the discouraged Alfred made her heart sink with pity. Motioning him to wait a second, she left the room. She came back with paper and crayons.

"You can always draw some," she suggested.

Alfred brightened up and did just that. He took out a yellow crayon, one he used very rarely. Only the white crayon earned less attention from the child.

He sank the crayon deep in order to produce richer color. He didn't realize how little was left of the crayon until it was too late.

Meanwhile, Ivan entered the kitchen. He saw Alfred with his colors and stormed up.

"Hey, those are mine! You didn't ask."

"Wait, Ivan," Alfred tried to hold up the picture but Ivan caught sight of the yellow crayon.

"My crayon! That's my favorite color. You ruined it!"

Hearing all these shouts and accusations was too much and Alfred began crying.

This gave Ivan reasoned to pause, no longer angry but simply confused. He had never seen Alfred cry.

He held onto the shorter boy's shoulders.

"Fredka?"

"I'm sorry Ivan. I always mess things up."

He stopped short when his Russian friend embraced him. Alfred's tears dried up as he felt the love of the hug.

"Thank you, Ivan."

"Call me Ivy," Ivan informed in a cheerful voice.


	13. Mattie's New Friend

He felt something nudge his leg, so Matthew looked down an noted a tiny cat aiming for his attention. It was a lovely day on the playground so Mattew didn't know why the furry creature was spending it here. All the other children were so noisy that Matthew had to be by himself for a little while. He wasn't trying to be unfriendly. It was just that too much noise gave him a headache. Which made it a real pain when Alfred was your brother.

"Hello," he greeted.

The cat was furry and white, with a cute black nose. It almost reminded Matthew of a tiny polar bear. The cat purred softly, rubbing against his leg pleasantly. Matthew caved in and petted it behind the ears.

Gilbert noticed his friend with a cat, so he curiously came on up.

"Oh. Vat's this?"

The cat gave a meow.

"I don't know. It just started rubbing against me," Matthew told him honestly.

"It looks like a little fluff ball. Maybe we should name it Snowball."

"But it might already belong to someone, so should we name it?"

Gilbert inspected the cat closer.

"There's no collar on it. So I don't think it has an owner."

Matthew brightened up. Maybe he would get a Matcat, after all? But Snowball sounded cool too.

He immediately deflated. There was no way that Daddy would let him have a pet. Papa might agree but not Daddy. He would say how animals always made messes or something like that and not let Matthew adopt this kitty.

Gilbert noticed his friend looking sad, arching an eyebrow to hide the concern he felt.

"Vat's wrong now?"

Matthew didn't take offense to the off putting way Gilbert voiced his worry because he realized that his friend cared. Some people only acted cold to protect themselves.

"I want to adopt him but my daddy will never let me."

"Oh, I see," Gilbert thought for a moment, "My brother already has a cat. There's no way my parents will take in another."

"But if this cat doesn't have an owner, who will feed it?"

As if answering in its own language, the cat spotted a beetle crawling by and ate it in one gulp. The boys made a noise of disgust.

"I thought cats ate birds and fish," Gilbert exclaimed.

"They eat whatever they can find," an adult voice said from behind him.

Mr. Edelstein was peering down at them with his glasses. Matthew dared to speak up.

"Teacher. How is this cat going to survive without a family? Beetles can't be that tasty. And our parents won't let us take it home."

The teacher was sympathetic.

"Then why don't you two raise it right here? It looks quite at home in this playground. You two can bring it some food if you want to spend any allowance. Cat food is very cheap."

The two boys stared. Spend their own money? They didn't realize they would have to make any sacrifices.

Matthew turned to the cat nuzzling him. Actually, he was okay with that. He would be more than happy to spend some money for it.

* * *

A/N: A special thank you to SorenintheTwilight for informing me of my French grammar mistake. I went through and hope I made the changes correctly. I do not know any French, not even basic French so I apologize. I'm very grateful and hope that you readers will continue to inform me of any error I make. Thank you.


	14. Terrifying Fae

Working in the publishing business had always been fun for a book lover like Arthur. However, there were always setbacks. Specifically, some of the submissions may upset Arthur in some way and it was always obvious to Francis if he read something like that. Some people wrote on very dark topics involving children and the father bear could never take it. He would be paranoid for at least a week afterward.

Francis noticed Arthur was coddling Matthew and Alfred a bit more than usual, even when no friends were visiting. The Britain insisted on the boys playing in the living room where he could keep an eye on them in his favorite chair. Francis took that moment to strike. He hovered above the seat and planted a kiss. Alfred cringed and looked away from all the 'cootiness.' Matthew paid no mind.

"What was the story then?" whispered the French husband.

Arthur didn't bother to ask this time. He had learned by now that Francis could figure out not only when he was upset but also why. It was an unfair advantage that Francis had over him, being able to tune into the other's emotions.

"Changeling," he whispered so the boys wouldn't hear.

The boys didn't take any notice of their conversation, so Francis felt it was safe to continue it.

"What's a changeling?"

"A faerie," Arthur said shortly, sounded conflicted over whether he wanted to talk about it or not.

Francis almost gave a humorless laugh.

"A faerie upset you? I can see that this is not the wish granting kind that you will sometimes talk to."

"I don't talk to those anymore," Arthur defended, "And you're right. These monsters take your children and replace them. The submission I read had one little boy taken away and his parents never figured it out."

Francis placed a kiss on Arthur's forehead. The Britain was already melting into the kiss. Matthew stood up.

"Can Alfred and I play outside? We'll stay in the backyard."

It was a great day and still a few hours before sunset. But Arthur didn't seem very keen at the idea. Francis spoke before he could utter a sound.

"Go ahead, you two."

The boys left in a hurry, hoping to reach the outside before Daddy said no. They had been bored staying in one room for so long. Arthur glared at Francis.

"You idiot! Faeries live outside."

"Your vivid imagination has always been sexy. But do you really think you wouldn't be able to tell our boys from a changeling?"

Arthur frowned.

"Well-"

"Our sons are something no magical creature can copy. Forget about whatever you read, alright? It's not worth getting excited over. And you get onto Alfred for watching scary shows."

"Of course I do. He gets paranoid afterward."

Francis didn't even dignify that moment of irony with a response. He kissed Arthur again and pulled him into the bedroom, locking the door behind them.


	15. Where Do Babies Come From?

"Daddy?" a voice peaked from the other room.

Arthur put away his novel with a frown. He had instructed Alfred to take a nap fifteen minutes ago. The young boy was always finding some excuse to stall for as long as he could, until he eventually tired himself out. Arthur would prefer it if Alfred just did as he was told.

Alfred caught the upset look from his father but-just like all the other times-it didn't faze him at all. He took it as an invitation to continue.

"Where do babies come from?"

Arthur's angry look instantly turned to one of horror. He knew this day was going to come, he just hadn't expected it to be this soon. Also, he had imagined Matthew would ask first, since he was the more curious of the two.

Alfred titled his head when his father failed to answer. The Britain gaped at him, no sound able to come out of his mouth. It was like he forgot how to speak altogether.

"Daddy?" Alfred pressed after a time.

Maybe he should throw this one Francis's way. But who knows what his husband would tell Alfred. He had to think of something to say quickly before Alfred got impatient and think about seeking out his papa himself.

"Um. The stork."

"What's a stork?"

"A mystical bird," Arthur smiled, drifting into his own lie, "They bring babies to families that want one."

"Oh. But where do the storks get the babies?"

"The babies hatch from stork eggs," Francis appeared out of nowhere.

Alfred blinked at his French father, trying to digest this new information. Arthur had a thought. Wasn't there a child book about storks? Maybe he could get a book like that for Alfred. He had been trying to get the boy more interested in books, after all.

Francis smoothed out Alfred's hair.

"Shouldn't you be taking a nap like your father told you? I know Matthew is already asleep."

"I couldn't sleep. I was too busy thinking about babies and where they come from," Alfred defended.

"Why can't you ever have these deep questions when you're playing or eating burgers."

Alfred frowned at Arthur, stealing Arthur's disapproving look.

"Because it's more important to eat burgers than to take a nap," he said, sounding upset because he hadn't been allowed one for some time now.

Arthur frowned right back at his son. He knew that Alfred would suffer from burger withdrawal soon. Francis patted Alfred's head.

"You know we can have lunch after you take your nap. And I can take you to McDonald's."

The proposal brought a smile to Alfred's face.

"Really? And I can have a burger?"

"Of course, mon cher."

"Now wait a minute-" but Arthur was cut off by his son.

"Goodnight," with that, Alfred finally left.

Francis noted Arthur glaring at him accusingly.

"I told you I'm trying to wean him off those."

"You know that the stork told us we should learn to compromise," Francis kissed Arthur's angry forehead.


	16. Fight with Matthew

Matthew's teddy was snow white while Alfred's was the regular brown color. They placed their toys against each other with Alfred using a lot more force than his brother. He made growling noises.

"Roar! I will defeat you, evil menace."

The other boy cringed at what Alfred said. Alfred always wanted to be the hero, which wouldn't be so bad if he didn't make Matthew's toys the villain all the time. Matthew loved his polar teddy and was secretly hurt to know that Alfred always saw it as a bad guy.

"Can't my bear be the hero this time?" Matthew dared to ask, breaking away from his pretend evil voice.

Alfred blinked as though the thought had never occurred to him. He looked up in contemplation, his lips twisting in disdain.

"But I like being the hero."

"I know. But I want to be the hero too sometimes. Can't I? Please?" Matthew asked hopefully.

"No way!"

The rude rejection made Matthew stand up in disgust. He glared down at his brother.

"Fine! You can play by yourself."

Matthew didn't normally throw a fit like this, which was why when Francis witnessed this, he was worried. Alfred appeared concern as well. The two exchanged glances as Matthew threw himself in his room. Alfred made a move to join him when Fancis stopped him.

"Give him some time. Then you can apologize."

"I didn't know he wanted to be the hero so much," Alfred admitted with guilt.

"He hides his emotions well. Just apologize later and I'm sure he'll forgive you. I know you two love playing together."

That was what Alfred used to think as well before Matthew's outburst. Had Matthew not been enjoying the games they played together? Why didn't Alfred just let him be the hero? He knew how fun it was, so it was understandable why Matthew would want to.

Alfred felt bad just like he did with his last fight with Ivan. He waited for a long time, almost twenty minutes, before daring to go inside their room.

Matthew was sprawled out on the bed, sitting up and rubbing fresh sleep from his eyes. Alfred could tell that he had fallen asleep and just woke up. Alfred came up, feeling happy to see his brother smiling at him.

"Hey, Alfred."

"Hello. Matty. I'm sorry that I didn't let you be the hero. Do you want to play now? You can be the hero this time."

Matthew seemed confused for a moment, then a thought struck him.

"Oh. I forgot about the fight. I'm sorry, Alfred."

"You can be the hero if you want," Alfred repeated.

Matthew seemed uneasy like he was feeling guilty for lashing out. Alfred decided to change the subject.

"Would you like to watch the Lego Movie?"

This brought up a smile and Matthew agreed.


	17. Cat Food part 1

He was such a treasure, especially when he got flour all over his face. Matthew stared at his papa in fear that he was about to get scolded. Francis patted his head soothingly, before wiping away the white dust with a cloth.

"There. That's alright, Matthew."

The young boy was relieved that his father wasn't angry and soon the two were on their way to making their cupcakes. Every other week they liked baking things together. Alfred didn't have as much interest making sweets as he did eating them, so he never joined. And Arthur was forbidden from the kitchen ever since a certain incident that would not be named that involved boiled eggs and peanut butter.

Francis involuntarily shuddered at the memory. It was Matthew who helped place the cupcake liners for Francis to fill the batter with. He scooped up a bit of pineapple flavor batter and the cupcakes were soon in the oven.

"Now we wait," Francis said.

"How long?" Matthew asked.

"I'd say 15 minutes at most."

Matthew set the timer that was shaped like a cat. He stared at it for quite a while after setting it that Francis grew concerned.

"Is there something wrong, mon cher?"

The boy snapped his head like he was pulled out of some deep contemplation. There was a guilty look on his face.

"Papa. How much does cat food cost?"

The sudden, unexpected question caused Francis to arch an eyebrow. Wherever this was going he could already tell why Matthew went to him about this and not Arthur.

"Only about a few pence. Why?"

Matthew looked down, his way of trying to reveal something he really didn't want to. But he hated to lie even more.

"There's this cat in the playgrounds. He played with me the other day but he was really hungry. I wanted to feed him and Mr. Edelstein said I might be able to with my allowance."

"Oh, mon chat."

Matthew was unfamiliar with that pet name but he knew what his papa called him. Francis petted his hair before continuing.

"We'll make our own cat food. It's better to make the gift rather than buy it."

"You can make cat food," Matthew smiled hopefully.

"But of course."

After the cupcakes were out and cooling, Francis helped Matthew with a recipe the French man learned during his teenage years when he had a pet of his own. The two decided to set the pot of cat food on low heat and let it simmer. They left the kitchen for a while.

When Matthew came back to eagerly check the food, he was shocked to see his father and brother with two bowls of the cat food.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Hey bro! Thanks for making this chili!" Alfred exclaimed, taking another bite.

"How come your papa never made this before. It's really good," Arthur complimented.

Matthew couldn't do anything except stare in horror. Arthur sensed something was wrong immediately and frowned in worry.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"PAPA!" Matthew screamed, calling for the other.

To his relief, his papa told him that they wouldn't get sick. But Francis did point out to Matthew that this only proved the other two had no sense in taste.


	18. Tony

When Alfred started breaking his cookies in half and placing them near an empty seat, Arthur started to wonder. When Alfred began talking to himself, Arthur grew concerned. When Alfred introduced Tony, the alien only he could see, Arthur was officially worried.

Francis smiled after Alfred left to play with his new friend. He glanced over at Arthur brooding in a corner and smirked.

"Just like you. He sees invisible friends too."

"How is this a joke to you?" Arthur shot out of his seat and started pacing, "Do you think he's suffering from isolation issues? Maybe his imagination is personifying his fears of the unknown. Should we get a therapist? Of course, we should! Know any names?"

The smile collapsed on Francis's face. Oh dear, it might be time to get the Prozac. He held onto Arthur's shoulders to prevent him from pacing and looked his husband in the eye.

"Calm down, mon lapin. It's just an imaginary friend. Many children get one."

"But what if Alfred really thinks this Theodore exists?"

"Tony, mon amour. And he might very well think that."

Francis offered a reassuring smile when Arthur tensed up. With a gentle but firm hold, Francis pushed him back down onto his chair. He then took the opportunity to set himself up on Arthur's lap.

The man usually joked how much Francis weighed at this point. However, he didn't have the humor now and instead he wrapped his arms around Francis's torso, hugging him for comfort.

"I just…worry that he won't grow out of it. What if he's a teenager and he still thinks Tony exists?"

"You just worry for the sake of worrying. If you had nothing to worry about, your mind would search for something to worry about. You're just like Matthew in that sense."

Being compared to one of his sons brought a smile to Arthur's face. Francis saw that he was no longer worried about Tony. At least, not at the moment.

"You know. I haven't heard from Flying Mint Bunny in a while."

Now the smile fell as Arthur gave a scowl.

"You know I don't talk to my imagination anymore."

"But really. How's he doing?"

"Who? Flying Mint Bunny?"

Francis nodded. Arthur sighed.

"He married Tinkerbell. I'm not sure it was wise of them to do so without putting much thought into it."

"Seriously. You put too much thought into everything. Remember how long it took you to decide to date me?"

A hint of bitterness crept out of the tone. Arthur kissed his husband as a means of amends. Francis melted into the kiss instantly.

"That's why our marriage worked out so well. Now I'm worried about them. I hope they will be alright together."

He looked off into the distance with evident concern. Francis was confused.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Well, Flying Mint Bunny and Tinkerbell, of course."

Now it was Francis's turn to be worried. Maybe he really should get the medication.


	19. Bad Grade

He wanted to scream when he saw the ugly mark on his coloring project. Mr. Edelstein expected more out of him, that must be why he got such a horrid grade. Matthew stared at the A- in hopes that it would automatically improve if he looked at it long enough. But it remained the same. A minus right by his perfectly good A. How could Matthew explain this to his parents?

His papa came up to him with a smile. Matthew kept the paper from sight and stuffed it in his bag with all the grace of his brother. Francis didn't notice anything amiss with his younger son, taking Matthew's hand and going to collect Alfred. The other boy came up to show his papa a paper of his own.

"Lookie! An A!"

"Oh, what a good boy you are," Francis cooed, placing a hand on Alfred's head.

No way. Alfred got a better grade than Matthew? In a rare moment of pride, Matthew was convinced that he should've gotten a much better grade. An A+ actually. Mr. Edelstein didn't know what he was doing when he graded the papers.

Matthew felt his throat dry as the thought made him ashamed of himself. It wasn't like him to question his teacher or any adult for that matter. Why was he doing so now? They were in the car when Papa decided to ask.

"By the way, mon chat," that was his new nickname from Papa, "Did you get back your paper yet?"

"No. Not yet."

Matthew hated to lie but he couldn't stomach the thought of letting his parents see his grade. He had a feeling that guilt would win over and he would tell Papa everything before bedtime. He tried not to think about that.

Francis frowned in concern. Something seemed wrong with Matthew. He was more silent than usual. When they got back, Francis's phone began to ring. He answered.

"Hello? Mousier Edelstein? What is it?"

Matthew stopped short, staring at his papa in horror. Alfred wasn't paying attention. He ran to the tv to watch Superman like he always did after school. Francis's frown deepened as he listened to whatever Mr. Edelstein was saying.

"Alright. I'll let him know."

He hung up and looked at Matthew.

"Did you lie about the paper?"

Tears were threatening to well up but Matthew hold them back. He nodded sadly.

"I'm so sorry."

"I understand why. But I would like you to tell me when something is bothering you. Promise me you'll tell me next time and not make yourself suffer."

"I promise. But are you going to punish me?" Matthew felt he deserved it.

"No, of course not. Goodness knows we've caught your brother lying plenty of times before."

"No. I mean for the bad grade."

Francis began laughing cheerfully. Matthew slowly began to feel better.

"Oh, chat. Even if it really was an A- I would still be proud."

"What do you mean if it really was an A-?" Matthew stared up curiously.

"That's why your teacher called. He just found out that someone got hold of his red marker and added a minus on all the papers as a joke."

When his papa laughed, the news was still trying to trigger in Matthew's brain. Mr. Edelstein…didn't give him an A-? It was an A the whole time? Francis leaned over and gave Matthew a hug.

"Everyone lies sometimes. But please promise you'll tell me the next time something bothers you."

"Okay Papa," Matthew agreed, eagerly hugging his father back. Honesty was the best policy, after all.


	20. Future Plans

"What are you going to be when you grow up?"

"I'm going to play video games," was Gilbert's answer. It worried Matthew, to say the least. His German friend should know that he needed to have a goal for a career.

Matthew thought how he could put his concerns delicately.

"It's okay to have a hobby but-" he trailed off.

Gilbert dug some more sand out of the sandbox and scooped it into his pail.

"But?"

"But what about a job? What do you want to do? Be a doctor? Or a lawyer? Maybe a teacher."

"Nah. Doctors have to vork long hours and so do lawyers. That's no fun. And being a teacher wouldn't be fun either, since Mr. Edelstein is such a busybody."

"What about a cook?"

"I can't cook."

"You can always learn."

"Guh, that's too much vork."

Now Matthew was really growing worried, so much so that he stopped focusing on his sandcastle.

"But you can't avoid work forever. You'll be a grown-up one day."

Gilbert simply shrugged.

"Vell, I guess I can move in with Ludwig. He wants to work as a bootcamp instructor."

"But what job will you have?"

"Vatever's fun."

Matthew let out a sigh and Gilbert finally looked him in the eye. It seemed that he finally realized that his friend was worried.

"We're 5. We have time to think about it."

"I guess," Matthew granted.

"Maybe I could make video games."

This proposal brought a smile to Matthew's face because at least it was something. As long as Gilbert worked and was happy, Matthew would be content.

Gilbert looked around the playground.

"Have you seen that cat anywhere?"

The shift in the conversation managed to distract Matthew from his initial concerns. He looked around for his furry friend in hopes that he might turn up. They still do not even have a name for him.

"No," he replied honestly, "Papa helped me make cat food but I haven't seen him so I can give it."

"Maybe you can leave it out and see if he'll come? That might vork."

Gilbert was really smart, which was one of the reasons why Matthew idolized him so much. He was also, as Papa would tell Daddy, handsome with his platinum hair and ruby eyes. Smug, confident smile and pretty face.

Uh oh. He shouldn't be thinking like this yet. He was 5 like Gilbert said. What would Daddy say if he found out he was having these thoughts? He would surely say how he was thinking a lot like Papa.

Meanwhile, Arthur felt his Daddy senses tingling. He didn't know why but his senses wanted him to slap his husband.


	21. Too 'Scary'

His husband had his arm setting comfortably around his shoulder as Francis leaned his head on his. Arthur shifted his legs on the bed as he watched the video with interest. It was one of those horror zombie films. Francis was insistent that they should watch it together, though Arthur had yet to figure out why. So far it was a normal zombie horror movie. After introducing the characters the film got onto the chase part.

The door opened with Alfred scurrying in quickly. Francis let go of Arthur and stood up with speed that Arthur didn't think he was capable of.

"Alfred. You know you're not supposed to-"

"But Mattie won't let me," whatever Alfred was about to say died in his lips as he saw the movie. He grinned in excitement, "Is this a zombie movie? Cool! I want to watch."

"Absolutely not. It's too scary."

Arthur was usually the parent that said things like that. The Britain was proud to see his husband finally putting his foot down on something.

But Alfred didn't agree with Arthur, as his frown clearly stated. He looked ready to cry in order to get what he wanted.

"I won't be scared. I promise. Please please please please-"

"No," Francis said.

"Please please please please please-"

"For every please you say, you get one minute of time-out."

Arthur felt his jaw go slack. Alfred stared bewildered at his Papa. Francis sighed and put a hand on Alfred's head.

"Forgive me, cher. But you will not watch this. It's too scary. And if you leave now then I promise to get you a dipped cone from McDonald's tomorrow."

"Deal!" Now Alfred was happy again and he gladly left.

The pride Arthur felt in his husband was now gone.

"Francis."

The French man turned his way, looking curiously at him. Arthur was giving him his usual Arthur-glare.

"Why did you promise him sweets when you know how I feel about that."

Francis took the opportunity to lock the door.

"I needed to get him away."

"I'm glad you're worried about him getting nightmares but," Arthur trailed off when he saw the telly. Did her shirt just…

"Aside from being scary, this movie is a bit too adult for him."

"Did you get this from the adult section?" now there was a blush accompanying Arthur's glare.

Francis lied back down and commenced cuddling. Arthur glared.

"While the boys are in the house?"

"They're supposed to be asleep anyway. I wonder why Alfred was up anyway."

Arthur might need to scold his son in the morning. But first he was going to scold his husband.


	22. Hockey Aspirations

It caught his eye the moment he first saw it on the telly, though he had yet to know why he was so fascinated. All he knew was that he wanted to be a part of it. Matthew witnessed a hockey game and shortly vowed to be a great player.

He didn't normally like that much adrenaline or speed but hockey was different. Something about the sport called to him to leave his mundane studies just long enough to play a game or two. When he proposed the idea, he was shocked to see that both parents were worried, Arthur being more so, of course.

"Why would you ever want to subject yourself to such a dangerous situation?" he asked hurriedly.

"I might actually agree with your daddy on this one, mon chat. Players get hurt a lot in those kinds of sports."

Matthew frowned at the responses he was getting. He really wanted this but he also wanted his parents' support. He knew that his daddy would have a hard time but he thought-he hoped- that Papa would be on his side.

Francis saw that Matthew was disappointed with him and he withheld a sigh.

"Can you tell us more? Why are you so interested in hockey?"

Matthew shrugged because he honestly didn't know. He thought about how his brother was so fascinated with the way Americans played football. Their parents had behaved similarly with him too.

"I just like it a lot. It looks like a lot of fun. The players are working as a team and you get to skate on ice too."

"That makes it even more dangerous. What if you flip and land on your head?" Arthur sounded terrified like it was going to actually happen in three seconds.

"But I promise to be careful. And I'll train extra hard everyday. I really will."

"It's no sport for someone your age."

It was time to negotiate because for once Matthew really, really wanted something that was being denied.

"What about if I'm older? Could I play then? I'm willing to wait."

Francis was now smiling at his youngest, his eyes shining as he indulged himself in some sort of memory that he wasn't sharing with the other two.

"Yes. You can always prove you want something if you're willing to wait."

He said it in such a serene, dreamy voice that his husband and son were now staring at him oddly. Arthur cleared his throat.

"We are still talking about hockey, right?"

"Of course! Can I play someday? Please Daddy and Papa?" Matthew begged before his papa had to answer.

Francis was still smiling when he turned to look at Arthur.

"Maybe when he's old enough-"

"The sport would still be just as dangerous," Arthur argued.

"But he really wants to."

"It's just a phase."

"Then you risk nothing by agreeing to this. If it is just a phase then Matthew will forget as soon as he's old enough, correct? Let's agree."

Arthur found himself at yet another losing battle. Matthew's eyes were dangerous once they were in puppy mode. He agreed, silently telling himself that surely Matthew would forget.


	23. Cat Food part 2

He set some of the cat food on the ground in hopes to see his furry friend. Matthew waited for a long time but the cat never came. With a sigh, he debated whether or not to throw away the food before he had to go back to class. In the end, he decided to leave it in case his friend came while he was gone.

A few minutes later, he was writing down numbers that they were slowly but surely learning. Edelstein gave them a hard lesson by introducing new numbers and they had to figure out how to write it.

"Okay. Next is 38."

Easy enough for Matthew, since he knew that every thirty number started off with 3 and that 8 was supposed to follow. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Gilbert was looking at his paper but Matthew didn't dare to turn his head completely otherwise Mr. Edelstein would notice and Gilbert would get into trouble.

"Alright. Pencils down."

The children sighed in relief. They hated doing paperwork when they could be playing tag or painting.

"I'll look at the later. Now, free time," Mr. Edelstein announced.

The children scattered the room happily. Gilbert came up to Matthew.

"Vat do you vant to do?"

Matthew smiled at him because he loved hearing Gilbert's accent. Gilbert occasionally tried to drop his German accent and that always made Matthew a little sad. He didn't know why but he loved hearing Gilbert as he really spoke.

"I put some cat food out but he never came."

Gilbert pointed to the table that Edelstein used sometimes to write things down. Above it was a window that showed the playground perfectly.

"We can look out the window and see if he's here now."

The proposal would have been tempting had it not been against the rules. He told Gilbert that it wasn't a good idea and Gilbert laughed as if he had cracked a joke.

"Oh, you always worry over nothing!" he exclaimed.

Matthew didn't think that getting into trouble was nothing but Gilbert was already crawling up the desk before he could stop him. His German friend looked out in interest.

"There are a lot of cats out there."

"Beilschmidt!" Mr. Edelstein's voice came up angrily behind Matthew.

The poor worry wort jumped up but Gilbert merely looked at his teacher cooly. Edelstein had his hands on his hips.

"What are you doing on my desk?"

"Looking at all the cats."

Edelstein inspected the window and his face fell as he let out a howl. Matthew was far too short to see what the other two were looking at but based on Edelstein's expression, there were a lot of cats out there.

"What is going on? Do they think they're in a petting zoo?"

Edelstein marched toward the door. When he opened it, Matthew got a chance to see all the felines. There had to be 12 at least! They must have smelled the food but only three of them were eating. The rest of the cats were just lounging about like Matthew's daddy liked to do at a cafe.

"Look, Mattie? He's over there," Gilbert cried.

Matthew was happy to see the white cat from the other day walking with skill on the fence. The children rushed out to pet the cats but that only scared them away. Every cat except the white one was gone. He darted toward the food bowl and grabbed a few mouthfuls before retreating to avoid the curious tiny humans. Matthew was happy to see him again, at least, even if it was only for a few seconds.


	24. The Doctor

Dr. Wang lost all of Alfred's trust after he snuck a flu shot when the toddler wasn't looking. There had been much wailing and screaming, mostly out of shock rather than the small amount of pain. Arthur had to comfort him for an hour.

So Arthur knew why Alfred was hiding behind his leg when they were standing in the examination room, Dr. Wang bringing out a stethoscope. Arthur brought the struggling boy on the table for the doctor to feel his heartbeat.

"No worries, Alfred. Just check-up now," Dr. Wang assured.

"That's what you said last time!"

Alfred gave the Chinese man his most fierce glare, as if blaming him for everything bad that had ever happened to him. Yao wondered how long a 5 year old could hold a grudge for. Yao Wang took out another tool and checked Alfred's reflexes. He inspected Alfred's torso closely.

"He look a bit skinner than last time."

Arthur frowned for some reason.

"Well, I have been trying to wean him off sweets and burgers. He's not too skinny though, is he?"

Mr. Wang felt around the ribs with a pursed lip. Alfred lost only about a few pounds. It was nothing to worry about.

Except Yao knew that Alfred loved burgers and being denied life's pleasures was never fun, especially for a child. He knew the father was trying his hardest but sometimes a kid just needs sugar. Yao had a nephew himself that he liked to treat from time to time. Through his brother's adoption and marriage, Yao's nephew was actually Japanese and not Chinese at all.

"He might need more fattening up though. Just a little."

Alfred blinked for a moment. Then smiled. Yao Wang knew that he had restored all the boy's trust. Arthur took his advice and fed Alfred a Happy Meal after they were done.


	25. Mermen

It took an incredible amount of patience for a boy his age to sit around for an entire hour simply to draw. He was so unusually quiet for so long, even for him, that his daddy and his papa would check on him every now and then. Matthew had a dream last night and wanted to write it down ever since. But because he wasn't very good with spelling quite yet, he decided to draw it out instead.

He finished Papa's hair, trying to make it look as accurate as possible and gave his daddy bushy eyebrows. His brother got glasses just like him and Matthew would have to remember which one was which. He also had Gilbert in there as well as Ludwig.

Papa and Daddy were right beside each other and sitting on a giant clam. Gilbert was chasing a catfish. Matthew was close to Alfred while Ludwig sat close by. They were all drawn as merpeople. Matthew didn't know why he had such a fascinating dream but he found that he really liked the idea of swimming all day in the ocean. When he was finished coloring every blank spot, he allowed his mind to wander. Think of all the possibilities if he were a merman! He could see a lot of whales and friendly dolphins. He could learn to swim before he learned to even speak. If he wanted, he could swim up until he was actually eye level with his parents and give them a kiss without them having to bend over.

"Oh? What's this?"

Matthew swiveled to face his papa. Francis was glancing down at his drawing while he beamed in pride.

"That has to be the best drawing yet. We're all mermaids."

"Mermen," Matthew corrected politely.

Francis didn't respond right away, just continued to inspect the work. He smiled very widely.

"You know. I once called your daddy my little mermaid."

"Why?"

"Because he loved Disney and we were both learning to swim at the same class," Francis looked up in thought as he remembered, "Your daddy was a much better swimmer than I, so I made it a habit of calling my my mermaid. He didn't like that."

"He didn't want to be a mermaid-er- merman?" Matthew couldn't believe that anyone would _not_ want to be one.

"He thought I was making fun of him."

"You don't think that wanting to be a merman is something to make fun of, do you?" now Matthew was worried. Would people ridicule him because of his dream?

"Of course not! I meant to compliment your daddy. I told him that our wedding should be ocean themed and I got a black eye that day."

This Matthew could understand. He realized that Daddy took a long time to admit his love for Papa.

"Was it?"

"Was it what?" Francis asked curiously.

"Was the wedding ocean themed?"

"No. We had forgotten about that on our wedding day. We just had a simple elegant style."

"I wish I was a merman," Matthew said sadly.

"Well. Your daddy really is a merman. So you're part merman."

Matthew looked at Francis to see if he was joking. The French man had such a straight face that he wondered if he was serious. Francis kissed him on the forehead and left the room, leaving Matthew to his thoughts.

His papa really was joking. He had to be. Matthew didn't want to get his hopes up for nothing.

Yet he couldn't help but dare to dream. If Daddy was a merman, then so was he. Matthew smiled as he thought about it, feeling very happy.


	26. Ratting Harry Potter Out

Alfred stormed into the room with a fuming frown. Arthur immediately turned his attention away from the telly to consult his son. Whatever had upset Alfred must have been important.

"Daddy," by Alfred's tone he was about to rat someone out. Arthur only hoped he wouldn't try to get his own brother into trouble. He never liked it when the boys fought and Matthew was left feeling unnecessarily guilty.

"What's wrong?" he said from his chair.

"Harry Potter is playing in a horror movie."

Three. Two. One.

"Um…pardon?" out of all the ridiculous things he had ever heard from that boy's mouth, this had to be the most ludicrous. Well, at least top ten.

"Harry Potter is playing a horror movie. It's called the_ Woman in Black_ or something. Call the studio and tell them he can't do that!"

Okay, Arthur realized he was going to have to go through a lot of nonsense to sort this out. He rubbed his temples.

"Okay. You mean the actor is playing a horror movie? Daniel Radcliffe?"

"His name is Harry Potter. Everyone knows that."

"And you want me to call the production studio in order to prevent him from being in a movie that's already out, am I correct?"

"Yeah," Alfred didn't see anything wrong with his logic.

"And why can't Daniel-"

"Harry-"

"Er…why can't Harry be in this movie?"

"Because the ratings too high and I can't watch it. He can't be in a movie I can't watch. That's like dangling a bone under a dog's nose and telling him he can't eat it! And I don't think he even does any magic in the movie. Tell him to stop being in movies I can't watch and where he doesn't do any magic!"

"Darling, I don't know his number."

"Who's?" Francis came up from the other room. Arthur explained the near dilemma Alfred seemed to be in.

"The Harry Potter movies are done, mon cher. He needs to do others now," Francis set out to explain.

"But why a horror movie I can't watch?"

"You can watch it when you get older, right? This one will surely scare you. The latter movies of Harry Potter were scary enough for you."

"But why can't he play a superhero? Like Wizard Man?"

Francis took a moment to think.

"Well, your father works with books. Maybe his company can make a Wizard Man series that will surely stick. Then Radcliffe can audition and play the part."

This appeased Alfred immediately, if his wide smile was anything to go by. Arthur withheld a groan. Just like his husband to make promises that _he_ was required to fulfill. At least it got Alfred in better spirits and out of the room. But Arthur wasn't going to let Francis off the hook that easily.

"So. I guess you're going to get started on writing that novel now."

Francis stared at him incredulously.

* * *

Apologize for this joke. Outdated joke is outdated.


	27. Chibi FrUK

The very young Arthur Kirkland was content to just stay in his room and read all day. However, his mother decided that he could use some sun and forced him to go to the park with her. He was simply sitting in the sandbox, minding his own business when he showed up. Great. It was that weird kid from his class that wouldn't stop looking at him.

Francis spotted him instantly and smiled. The young boy came up to him. Arthur wished he could make a hole big enough in the sandbox to bury himself so that he could hide. The other boy took a seat right by him, smiling that stupid goofy smile that made Arthur want to punch him.

"Oh. Fancy seeing you here, mon ami. I was hoping to see a beautiful flower in the park today."

That was the other weird thing about Francis. He said the most bizarre things and Arthur couldn't tell if the French child was making fun of him or if Francis was just crazy. Either way, it really aggravated Arthur to hear the other boy talk.

"I told you. We're not friends. We're just classmates."

"But we played ball together."

"No, you took the ball I was playing with by myself. That doesn't count."

"But I wanted you to notice me."

Arthur blinked, legitimately confused.

"Why?"

"Because I like you."

The declaration made Arthur's face heat up but he couldn't understand why. Why did his chest feel all..tingly now? Something strange was going on.

Francis leaned over closer to where Arthur's pail and shovel were.

"Can I make a castle with you?" he asked.

Figuring the French child wouldn't leave him alone, Arthur decided to agree. Maybe if he humored him for a few minutes, Francis would get bored and go away. They worked surprisingly well together, making a sandcastle much bigger than Arthur ever made by himself. He stared at the creation in awe.

Meanwhile, Francis took this moment to look at Arthur's face. The English boy was smiling for once. Francis wanted him to smile all the time because that was when Arthur was the prettiest. Francis knew he was too young to start thinking about love yet but with Arthur around, he couldn't help himself. The moment he saw the boy, he knew that this was the one he was eventually going to marry.

"I wonder if our house will be this big?" he asked out loud.

Arthur seemed to forgot the other boy was there. He blinked and looked at Francis.

"Our house?" he repeated.

"But of course. So when we marry."

Arthur flushed but glared in order to cover it up. Maybe Francis would think the red on his cheeks was the result of pure rage? That was what Arthur hoped.

"I won't marry you. I don't like you."

Francis didn't show any ounce of hurt. He continued to smile.

"How about we make a bet?"

"What kind of bet?"

"If we end up marrying, I get to choose the children we adopt."

"Fine."


	28. Grandparents' Visit

"Daddy?" the little boy timidly asked while his British father worked on shampooing his hair.

"Yes, Matthew?"

"Why is Papa so…nervous?" he asked then remedied, "If you don't mind me asking."

Arthur smiled at his son. Matthew always felt the need to make sure his questions weren't inappropriate. Such a sweet thing.

"He's just a bit jumpy because your grandparents are coming over."

"But they're your parents right? Why is he so nervous?"

Matthew never understood why his papa seemed to resent his grandparents' visit from Liverpool. They seemed to like him okay, as far as the boy knew at least. Arthur sighed.

"Well let's just say, they found us kissing on the bed one time and ever since then Francis felt weird around them."

"How long ago was that?"

"When we were teenagers."

Why was Papa still feeling weird? That seemed like a very long time for Matthew. At his age, three months alone felt like an eternity, never mind all those years ago when his parents were younger.

Arthur finished up with the blow dryer and put Matthew in his best suit. They liked to dress his brother and him up for their grandparents, something Matthew understood but not Alfred. If he had his way, Alfred would be in his Iron Man shirt and jeans by now.

"There you go. You're all set."

There was a knock at the door.

"Mes chers! Are you two almost finished?"

"Calm down, Francis. I just finished dressing him."

Arthur and Matthew came out and Francis took the opportunity to inspect Matthew's appearance for any flaws. Alfred was beside Papa, with hair too shiny to appear natural and a deep frown on his lips from all the day's grooming. When his papa deemed Matthew ready, he looked at his husband.

"Oh, Arthur. You're not going to wear that, are you?"

The Britain felt his jaw go slack. Matthew looked up at his father, who was wearing his favorite green suit and red tie. Arthur looked at himself.

"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?"

Francis slapped his own forehead and gaped in dismay.

"Oh, dear! We don't have time for this. You two stay here while I help Daddy dress."

Arthur was dragged away despite his protests, leaving the two boys looking at them until they disappeared. When they were gone, Alfred felt through his hair.

"It's all slick and weird feeling," he complained.

"It's only for today," Matthew assured his brother.

"I hope grandpa won't make us any scones this time. They don't taste as good as Papa's biscuits."

Matthew silently agreed to this remark. Their grandpa, much like Arthur, insisted on cooking and baking when they were no good at it. It was almost sad to see both of them struggle in the kitchen. Their British grandmother was a little bit better but compared to their Papa's cooking, she didn't have a prayer. At least she didn't insist on cooking most of the time.

Matthew perked his ears when he heard the doorbell. The boys waited a while but their parents didn't come out of their room. Curious, Matthew edged closer to their door and heard the blowdryer on along with Daddy's arguing that he didn't need Papa fussing with his hair. Matthew tried knocking but they didn't hear, so then he tried the door knob. Locked. Now he was nervous. The bell rang again.

"Oh no. What if that's grandma and grandpa?" he asked his brother.

"Then we better go answer," Alfred said.

"But we're not supposed to answer the door by ourselves."

Alfred wasn't listening. He went down the steps and opened it before Matthew could stop. Thankfully, it _was_ their grandparents on the other side of the door. Their eyes widened when they saw who answered.

"Hey Alfred," Grandpa James greeted, "Where's your daddies?"

"They're getting ready. Papa said Daddy wasn't presentable," Alfred has been loving to use that big word ever since he heard it.

The two smiled. Grandma Martha noted her other grandson by the steps.

"There you are, Matthew. I thought we were one grandchild short."

She picked him up and kissed him. Matthew giggled. He did like her affection. Meanwhile, they heard footsteps from upstairs stomping toward them.

"I told you I don't need your help dressing me."

"But put on your heart printed underwear on at least," Francis shouted.

Alfred giggled madly. The parents just now realized their guests had arrived and Francis snapped his mouth shut like he just said something bad. This made Alfred laugh even harder.


	29. Lovino

Mr. Edelstein brought something different with him at class that day. A new student that had a fierce scowl on his face. It unnerved Matthew to see a child his age so unhappy and he wasn't the only one. Most of the children seemed unsure about the boy. As a matter of fact, Matthew noticed only one student showing any interest in him and that was his Spanish classmate, Antonio.

The boy stuck to Mr. Edelstein like glue, unwilling to leave the adult's side in case the other children would approach him. Mr. Edelstein decided to introduce the newcomer.

"Class, I want you to meet a distant relative of mine from Italy. Say hello, Lovino."

The boy named Lovino said nothing. Mr. Edelstein continued.

"He has a younger brother too. I want you kids to play nice."

The way Mr. Edelstein said it made it seem like those instructions were meant more for his relative than anyone else in the class. The kids stared at Lovino awkwardly.

"Alright. Art time. We're going to play that buddy game. Pick a partner."

Antonio immediately went up to Lovino, startling both Mr. Edelstein and the Italian newcomer. Matthew was so interested in looking at them that he didn't notice Gilbert coming behind him.

"Vant to be buddies?"

Matthew turned around and smiled. He liked it that Gilbert was the first to ask. Most children forgot Matthew was even in the class, which hurt more than he let on. But Gilbert always noticed him.

"Sure, thanks Gilbert."

The two decided on drawing a cat, mostly because Gilbert thought that was easy enough. Matthew was happy for a chance to draw his white furry friend. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen that cat around lately.

The buddy game consisted of two partners drawing the same thing and comparing their work, all the while watching how the other kid drew. Mr. Edelstein's theory was that by watching someone else draw the same thing you were, you could learn something from their artistic style and apply it to your own one day.

It seemed to work with Matthew. He copied one student's way of drawing a beak on a bird and another's way of drawing whiskers. He used those same whiskers on his cat. Gilbert noticed this and gave his drawing whiskers too.

In front of them, Matthew heard Antonio speak.

"We're supposed to be drawing a tomato, Lovi."

"This is a tomato dummy. And don't call me Lovi."

"You shouldn't call people names."

"You're lucky. I used to use a much worse word for people until my parents got mad."

Lovino really was a mischievous type, maybe even more so than Gilbert. With Gilbert, the boy just did what he enjoyed, whether or not the adults approved. But Matthew noticed that it was different with Lovino. His acting out didn't appear to give him any satisfaction at all.

Mr. Edelstein came up to his relative.

"Did you insult another student again?"

Lovino glared and opened his mouth but Antonio beat him to it.

"He didn't do that."

The Italian and Matthew were both shocked at this lie. Matthew didn't have a chance to know Antonio very well but he was really nice. Mr. Edelstein left.

"Why did you lie?" Lovino asked.

Instead of answering, Antonio turned to his paper.

"You're using red violet. Tomatoes are always red red. Like your face is right now."


	30. Origins?

"Hey Vanya."

After another discussion, Ivan and Alfred decided on a new nickname for the Russian boy. Ivan really didn't mind Ivy too much anymore but he much preferred Vanya and was happy to note that Alfred seemed to prefer it too.

Ivan had been messing with some blocks when his friend came up to him. Alfred had on a huge grin on his face.

"Guess what? I'm going to France."

The news made Ivan drop the block he was holding as it was so shocking. He stared up at the boy in horror but Alfred didn't seem to notice. Ivan stood up so that he was looking down at Alfred this time, his purple eyes wide.

"What? You're leaving?"

Alfred didn't catch the fear in his friend's voice, taking it for excitement instead.

"Yeah. Papa wants me to see my French grandparents. He says that they've been waiting to meet me and Mattie."

Now Ivan looked relieved.

"Oh. So you're not leaving forever?"

Alfred frowned when he realized just how scared his friend had been seconds prior. The smile came back quickly.

"Of course not. My papa is French so my grandparents are in Paris. We had to learn a lot of French so that we could go."

It had seemed unfair to Alfred that he had to learn a new language outside of school but his papa made sure to teach him and Matthew as much as possible for an entire year. It was a good thing that the lessons remained entertaining or else Alfred wouldn't have stood for it.

Ivan looked up as if he had a thought.

"That's right. I forgot one of your daddies was French."

"That's right."

"So are you French or English?" Ivan asked curiously.

The answer put a stop to Alfred's excitement as he had never considered the question before. Ivan had a point. What _was _he? His daddy went on about being English and his papa proudly proclaimed that he was French, so what did that make him and Matthew?

Both? Could they possibly be both?

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

Ivan frowned when he noted Alfred brewing over something. Unsure if he asked a sensitive question, he decided to change the subject.

"Want to play?"

Later that evening, Daddy picked up Alfred and Matthew from school. He seemed concerned about Alfred's silence but Alfred wouldn't say anything until they got home, where Francis was making something.

"Daddy?"

Arthur prepared himself, knowing that his son was about to reveal what was bothering him.

"What am I?"

Francis overheard since they were all in the kitchen. He ceased stirring the stew in order to glance curiously at his son.

"What do you mean, Alfred?" asked his French father.

Matthew frowned in concern. Now everyone seemed worried, not something Alfred intended to do but he just had to know.

"I mean…me and Mattie? What are we?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," softly confessed Arthur.

"Well, you're English and Papa's French, so what are we?"

The stirring spoon was heard making a thud sound. Arthur and Francis gazed at Alfred, then at Matthew, then at each other. They were saved from answering by Matthew.

"You mean where did we come from? Papa already told me."

Francis looked confused and Arthur shot him a dark look.

"We're from the ocean. He says Daddy was a merman," Matthew continued.

The news was so cool that Alfred forgot about his musings. He smiled broadly.

"Wow, really? That's so cool!"

Arthur and Francis were both relieved. It looked like they wouldn't have to say anything just yet.


	31. Tea Time

Bland and boring, that was what tea was to Alfred. But what came with said tea was good enough to make up for the disgusting brew. Alfred took another biscuit and practically swallowed it whole, earning a disapproving look from his British father.

"No more jammy dodgers until you finish your cup."

What? Alfred felt his jaw drop as he stared in horror. He looked to his papa for help but he was too busy talking with Matthew to notice the exchange. It seemed like the hero was on his own. Alfred stared up at his father.

"Can I put some sugar in it?"

So the tea would actually taste like something? He thought to himself but didn't dare voice it. Arthur shook his head.

"No. There is no reason to destroy the many benefits of tea with something as worthless as sugar. Besides, I need you to develop a taste for tea."

"I liked that one tea."

Arthur cringed as he remembered.

"That wasn't tea! Some American at that party gave sugared water and called it tea."

"But I liked the sweet tea."

"It wasn't tea! It was cold for goodness sakes. Now drink your real tea."

Alfred frowned at the cup, glowering at it like it was the root to all his troubles. He wanted more biscuits. But Arthur was now watching him closely, so he couldn't sneak one. Maybe if he drank it really fast…

Arthur was shocked when his elder son gulped down the tea greedily, trying not to taste the drink. In a few seconds, it was gone. Laughing in victory, Alfred took three more jammy dodgers. He heard papa laugh.

"Why, mon cher. You must love your tea. I thought you hated it."

"I do. Daddy said I couldn't have another biscuit without drinking it first," Alfred explained.

When Arthur opened his mouth, Alfred knew more complaints were on their way.

"Tea is something to be savored, Alfred. Why can't you drink like your brother?"

Matthew leaned back in his chair, uncomfortable at being used as an example. Alfred offered him a reassuring smile before frowning at Daddy.

"But Papa says nothing about British food should be savored."

Arthur shot his glare his husband's way. Francis laughed, nervously this time.

"I do not know where he gets these ideas, lapin."

"But you did!"

"Hush, cher. Daddy and I are speaking."

"Matthew. Tell Papa I'm not speaking to him," Arthur glared at Francis.

Matthew shifted in his seat once more. He looked up at his French father.

"Are you going to sleep on the couch again, Papa?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?" Francis asked curiously, looking a bit nervous at the prospect himself.

"Because you're sleeping on the couch again," Arthur said, quite forgetting that he wasn't speaking to his husband.


	32. Sick Mattie part 1

He realized, as he woke up, that his throat felt like it was on fire. Once Matthew left the realm of sleep completely, he was able to fully register just how awful he felt. His bones felt sore and cold and shaky. His face felt flushed and his head warm. And he felt weak, very weak. So much so that part of him simply wanted to lie back down.

But the other part refused to acknowledge the possibility that he might be sick. It was a school day and it would be a cold day on the sun before he decided to stay home from school. He knew, however, that if his parents found out, they would insist he stay away from school. That just wasn't an option.

True, he hated lying. But not telling someone that you didn't feel well wasn't actually lying. At least that's what he figured. He would just pretend that he felt fine and none would be the wiser.

Alfred was already out of bed to do what he normally did in the mornings: playing video games before school. Right on cue, Daddy came up to greet them good morning.

"Put the game away, Alfred. We're getting dressed now."

The British man paused when he saw his other son. Matthew tried to keep a straight face as his dad inspected him.

"Good morning, Matthew. Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine, Daddy," he reassured. Because he surely was, right? It wasn't like he was dying so that answer didn't count as a lie, right?

Arthur continued to look. Matthew could tell that his dad was slightly worried. He was worried that his dad would press the issue further and find out.

But fortunately, Alfred was the distraction Matthew needed. His brother grabbed Arthur's wrist.

"I want to wear my Superman shirt."

"You know you can't. You wore it two days ago and it's still dirty."

Alfred jumped up and down in frustration.

"But Kiku says he has this cool Naruto shirt, so I have to show him my shirts are cooler!"

"But certainly he's already seen it!"

"I have to remind him!"

Meanwhile, Matthew was relieved that he was being ignored. This would make it much easier to fool his parents. He got out of bed and immediately regretted it. His stomach did an awful, painful flip that made him want to throw up.

His face went even paler fast. The effect was so obvious that even Alfred could now tell something was wrong. Arthur immediately kneeled down to inspect his son.

"Matthew? Are you alright, luv?"

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to go to school. But now he realized just how much everything hurt. Tears welled up in his eyes. But school. School….

"I feel bad," he admitted, feeling ashamed at his weakness.

Arthur felt his head.

"My goodness! You're burning up. Get back to bed this instant, I need to talk to your papa. Alfred, watch him."

Alfred nodded. Arthur gave one last worried glance before going to Francis immediately. Papa came rushing in a few seconds later.

"You better get Alfred to school. I'll call Dr. Wang. It looks like the flu but we should probably make sure," he told his British husband.

Alfred protested, partly jealous that Matthew got to stay home but also partly worried too. Arthur led him away as Papa soothingly stroke Matthew's forehead. Matthew closed his eyes and deep sleep took him once more.

**TBC**


	33. Sick Mattie part 2

"So it is the flu," Francis told his husband, "But don't worry. We just need him to rest and get him to take his medicine."

Arthur had a cup of tea in his hands. The cup was trembling slightly as the Britain stared down blankly, not acknowledging that he heard him. Francis could tell that he was brewing with worry.

"I'll go and see how he's doing."

That brought Arthur out of it. He stood up and placed the tea away with disinterest.

"I'll go with you," he stated.

Francis smiled at him. He knew that seeing Matthew would make him worry but denying him would only make it worse. At least if they were to check on their son together, Francis could point out to Arthur that Matthew wasn't going to die.

He took hold of his husband's hand, which Arthur used for his own comfort, stroking Francis's hand with his thumb. They walked upstairs to see Matthew and were shocked to see him up. Matthew was trying to walk somewhere. Arthur was by his side in an instant. He was faster than a train when it came to his sons' wellbeing.

"Matthew. What on earth are you doing out of bed?" he demanded, sounding worried instead of angry.

But it seemed that Matthew was still worried he might have upset his daddy.

"I'm sorry. I was just going to the sink. I wanted to rub some water on my head."

Arthur felt the burning forehead and frowned, looking up at Francis.

"We need to get him more medicine."

This was why he was the rational parent. Arthur already forgot what Wang instructed them to do, so it was up to Francis to remind him.

"It's only been an hour since his last dose. We have to wait," he told him.

Arthur glared.

"But-"

"You know that's what the doctor said, Arthur," Francis said sternly.

This shut the other up. Matthew looked up at the two and frowned.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, don't blame yourself, poppet. I'll get you a glass of water and a wet cloth. Are you hungry?"

The mention of food seem to make Matthew cringed. He politely declined. While Arthur was gone, Francis helped their son back to bed.

"Papa?" Matthew asked.

"Yes, chat?"

"Can I go to school tomorrow?"

"Only if you're better."

Matthew wanted to protest. School was too important for him to miss even a day. He only agreed to stay home this time because he felt too weak. His energy was starting to return but he was still worried that he would still be sick tomorrow.

Francis kissed his forehead.

"Did you know your daddy hated staying home from school as well?"

This caught Matthew's interest, "Really?"

"That's right. And Daddy would make a wish to the faeries to make him better. Sometimes it worked, sometimes not. You can try if you want."

Did merpeople have some sort of friendship with faeries? Matthew wondered about that. But he might as well try. Arthur came up and placed the wet rag over Matthew's forehead.

"Can you tell the faeries to make me better?" he asked his English father.

Arthur looked at his husband, before glancing back at Matthew.

"I'll see what I can do. But I really need you to get some sleep."

Matthew nodded and fell asleep, praying that the faeries would follow through. And they did. A day later, he was completely recovered, much to everyone's relief.


	34. Suspicious of Vanya

Arthur tried his best not to glower at his son's guest, but he had the same uneasy feeling with him as he did with that Gilbert kid. Ivan wanted something from Alfred. Arthur didn't care what his husband tried to tell him. The Britain was convinced that underneath that five year old mask was a Russian kid with terribly impure thoughts about Alfred.

Ivan and Alfred were coloring together, one drawing a snowman while the other drew a stick figure with a cape. Matthew was able to join in, though he sat to the side and colored silently to himself more than anything else. Francis knew that Arthur was keeping a close eye on little 'Vanya.' Ivan, however, didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

"When are you going to France?" asked the Russian child.

"Er-" Alfred stalled, clearly unsure of the answer. He turned to his papa for help.

"This summer. So in about two weeks," Francis answered for him.

The young guest turned to Francis with an awed expression.

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"We'll be back in about a week. It will be a kind of long visit since my parents haven't really had much of a chance to spend time with their grandkids. They don't even know very much English, so my children had to learn a lot of French for their visit."

"Oh. That's neat!" Ivan said.

Alfred smiled, "Kiku knows Japanese and you know Russian, right?"

"Da, of course."

"So maybe we can all get jobs speaking all kinds of languages. We can totally be in the secret police force. That would be rockin."

"What secret police force?" Arthur dared to ask.

"The super secret one."

This caused Arthur's defenses to lower just enough to emit a chuckle from his throat. Francis smiled when he saw that his husband was no longer glaring at Ivan. Ivan added.

"Did you know Kiku knows Chinese too? He told me."

"What! You mean Chinese isn't just another word for Japanese?" Alfred asked, starstruck.

Francis waved his finger with a tut tut.

"They're two completely different languages, cher."

"He said his uncle was Chinese and taught him," Ivan continued. He didn't like how angry Alfred looked right now. What did he say that was so wrong?

Arthur also noticed how Alfred was glowering. Matthew stopped coloring and was the only one who decided to break the pause.

"What's wrong, Al?" asked the younger brother.

"How come Kiku didn't tell me?"

Ivan arched an eyebrow.

"How come he did not tell you what? That he had Chinese uncle?"

Alfred shook his head.

"No! How come he didn't tell me the two languages were different! Now I look like a dummy!"

Arthur chuckled at how cute his son was being. Alfred's face was flushed with embarrassment. If only he had a camera.

Ivan laughed too.

"You know. I like it when you're angry. You're funny looking and kind of cute."

Alfred flushed with pleasure. Francis chuckled deeply. Meanwhile, Arthur went back to a full forced glare. If only he had a bat.

* * *

A/N: I'm going to need to title these chapters soon or I'll lose track of them all...


	35. Matthew's Fear of Flying

"Cool!"

"What!" exclaimed Matthew when he heard the terrifying news. Alfred was jumping for joy.

"We're gonna fly. Like superheroes."

Arthur grabbed onto Alfred in order to calm the toddler down. Francis focused his attention on Matthew. The boy looked downright frightened. But he never mentioned fear of heights before. Then again, it was his first time on a plane, so that would make it a little scary.

"It's okay, chat. Your daddy and I will be right by you all the way to France."

Matthew still didn't seem at ease. He gave a smile but Francis could tell it was forced.

"O-okay."

Francis hugged the boy. He could feel the boy tremble in his arms, so he whispered in his ear.

"It will be alright," he assured.

They went to get their tickets. Arthur had to hold Alfred still because he wanted to run off on his own. Matthew made sure to stay close to his dads.

"Will you kindly hold your horses?" Arthur groaned at his elder son.

"Issitgonnabe ajet? Arewegoing onna jet? Iwanna go onna jet!"

Meanwhile, Francis noticed Matthew looking a bit pale. He held his sons arm as they sat down to wait for the plane. Arthur glanced in Matthew's direction, frowning when he saw that his other son looked so scared.

"What's wrong, poppet?"

Alfred finally stopped bouncing when he realized that something was wrong with his babu brother. He looked concerned too. Matthew felt terrible about worrying them. He figured he would tell them what was on his mind.

"Planes crash sometimes, don't they?"

Francis patted his hair soothingly.

"The plane won't crash. They'll be very careful."

"Besides, if it does crash, we'll have a cool ride," Alfred added.

Arthur glared at his son.

"You're looking at a time-out once we get to Grandma's house."

Matthew could remember nothing about Grandma Ada and Grandpa Pierre. Papa said he was three the last time he saw them. That was two years ago, practically forever for five year old Matthew.

He really wanted to meet them. This time he would actually be able to talk to them. He still didn't approve of the plane idea. Couldn't they have taken a boat? He sighed.

They got on. Francis carried Matthew as if he was afraid his son would try to run off in terror. The closer they got to their destination, the more Matthew shivered.

Alfred insisted on having the window seat. He had to sit on Arthur's lap to see anything. Matthew, in contrast, pressed his face into Francis's chest. The pilot on the intercom told them they were setting off and soon Matthew felt the plane move up.

"Wow! Lookatthecars. They looklikeants. LookDaddy. LookDaddy. LookDaddy!"

"I see, alright!" exclaimed Arthur, "Kindly settle down. I'm not dealing with this the entire flight. Quiet down or you're not looking out the window any more."

This managed to shut Alfred up. Matthew was slightly more at ease without his brother telling them all how high they were. He tried to pretend he really wasn't sky high in the air. It managed to work until the pilot told them they were landing.

The intercom woke Matthew up from a nap. He didn't realize he had fallen asleep. Francis felt him stir and he held onto him tightly.

"It's almost over."

Arthur gave Matthew a good pat on the head.

"Almost there, sweetie."

The plane landed safely but it was only after they were off did Matthew feel at ease. Arthur gave him a big hug.

"You were so brave, dear. And yes. You too Alfred."

Alfred beamed in pleasure.

"Can we go to McDonald's to celebrate?" he asked his daddy.

"Absolutely not," Francis responded before Arthur could even open his mouth, "We must celebrate with French cuisine. We're not going to have our first meal in Paris to be hamburgers. And now, mon chers. We must speak French. Do you understand."

"_Yes, I do," _Matthew said in French.

Francis turned to Alfred sternly.

"Alfred?"

The boy shifted his feet nervously.

"_Yes. I'll try."_

While Alfred was better at riding in planes than Matthew, Matthew had always been better at speaking French. It was a give and take sort of deal. The family set off to find the grandparents.


	36. Letting Out Old Secrets

Grandma Ada and Grandpa Pierre grabbed their sons in a tight hug the moment they entered the room. Matthew and Alfred cowered under the unfamiliar people's kisses, only assured by their daddies smiling at them.

Grandma pinched Papa's cheeks.

"Ow! Mama!" he exclaimed.

"It's been so long, Francis," she cooed, keeping Matthew safe in her arms as she cuddled his papa, "Your hair is still magnifique."

Arthur felt his hair that was never as luxurious as Papa's. Grandma Ada giggled.

"So is yours, Arthur."

She felt Matthew's hair. He looked up. He was too shy to say anything. What was strange was that Alfred wasn't saying anything either. He had never seen his brother so shy.

"Your hair feels so nice. I'm sure your father cleans your hair."

Matthew nodded. Francis frowned at his two sons.

"Go on, chers. Say hello to your grandparents."

"Bonjour," Matthew greeted timidly, "I'm…sorry for seeming rude."

Grandpa arched his eyebrow. Alfred looked uncomfortable in his arms but the French elder was not about to let go of his grandson. Grandpa smiled at Matthew.

"Since you apologized for no reason, you're Matthew, right?"

"Y-Yes."

The grandparents led them to the kitchen, where a long dining table was waiting. Once in their seats, Grandma gave her grandsons some sweets. With sugar in his bloodstream, Alfred felt more confident. He told them how cool it was to fly a plane.

Matthew, meanwhile, sat quietly. Francis petted his head.

"You may not remember them but they remember you perfectly, chat," he assured.

Alfred's French was thick with a foreign accent but the grandparents could tell what he was saying. Matthew was worried if his accent would sound strange to them too. He whispered his concern to his papa.

"It will be alright. Your grandparents will find it cute. And they will never make you feel embarrassed," Francis stated.

Alfred glanced around the house that had a lot of fragile nicknacks but seemingly no toys. He frowned.

"Is there anything to play with?" he asked Grandpa Pierre.

"We still have some of your Papa's toys from when he was a boy."

For some reason, Matthew noticed that Papa tensed up after Grandpa answered. Matthew looked at Daddy to see his reaction but he was too occupied with talking to Grandma Ada to notice the exchange. She was giving him tips on hair treatment.

Alfred smiled.

"Cool! What kind of toys?"

"Well, there are legos and his fashion playset."

Arthur heard this part. He turned to his husband who was now blushing and looking away.

"You never told me you had a fashion playset," he told Francis.

"It was simply a character study," Francis defended feebly.

Arthur chuckled.

"What was it you said that one time I said you used clothes to show off? 'Just because I'm French, doesn't mean I'm obsessed with fashion,' and all this time you-"

Francis gave an evil look.

"Well, now that we're giving away each other's secrets, I can tell our sons about that stuffed bunny of yours. The one you had since you were seventeen."

Alfred gave a laugh and even Matthew produced a smile. Arthur gave Francis a look that promised he would get him back for that one.


	37. Alfred's Rare Wisdom

Francis didn't realize it but his parents had adopted a cat shortly before they arrived. The cat, Pepe, was an instant celebrity among both his sons. However, while as Matthew knew how to treat a cat, Alfred kept trying to grab his tail and throw him in the air. Alfred wasn't used to having an animal in the house, so Francis could understand. Though he did keep telling Alfred not to do that.

It was Matthew's reaction that surprised everyone. He was more upset with Alfred's treatment of Pepe than Arthur. Their grandparents were more worried about Pepe scratching their grandsons than anything else. Matthew was now steaming in front of everyone and no one knew how to handle it. Francis had never seen Matthew so enraged. Alfred was mostly shocked but there was also a tinge of fear in his eyes.

"Don't treat Pepe like that! You'll hurt him."

Arthur's jaw dropped. That was exactly what he was going to say. Matthew held Pepe protectively. At first, Alfred's lip wobbled and his eyes moistened, but he straightened himself at the last minute.

"I'm sorry. I'll be nicer."

There it was, just as Francis predicted. Guilt was all over Matthew's face. Grandma Ada decided to step in.

"Now boys, it's alright. Alfred knows better now. No harm done. Would you two like to bake with me?"

"I'm going to go play with the fashion set," Alfred announced.

Matthew watched him go. Pepe purred and snuggled up to his savior. Matthew felt like a bully for yelling at Alfred. Arthur leaned over with an apologetic smile.

"He was asking for it, poppet. Please don't feel so guilty. He'll be fine. I'm very proud of you."

Francis added, "Why don't you go bake with Mama now?"

Seeing as he had no other choice, Matthew did what was advise, guilt wallowing in his heart. He managed to keep his composure and even forced a smile while Grandma Ada taught him the art of macaroons.

"Grandma?" Matthew asked.

The elderly woman turned to him with a smile.

"Yes, dear?"

"Can I take a biscuit to Alfred?"

She patted his head and handed him two macaroons.

"Of course. Be careful. They're a little hot."

Matthew walked to the guest room that they shared, where his brother was dressing a male doll in a dress. He was laughing.

"Ahahaha! Taking away manliness is funny!" he exclaimed. He noticed Matthew and his face crashed into a frown.

Matthew stopped short. He hesitantly held out one of the biscuits.

"Would you like one?"

Alfred made no move to get it. He just stared with a sad expression.

"I'm sorry," Matthew cried, "I'm very sorry. I was mean. I-"

"You don't get it," Alfred said, "I'm not sad because you got mad. I'm sad because you always feel bad about yourself afterwards."

Matthew's eyes widened as he heard words he never imagined would be uttered by his brother. Alfred could be very wise when he wanted to be. Matthew had seen this side to him before. The side that proved Alfred was a protective older brother.

"I want you to be mad at me sometimes. Without feeling guilty," Alfred admitted, "I would've hurt Pepe if you didn't say anything. You get mad sometimes, you're not perfect! I wish you wouldn't…"

He trailed off. Then with a smile, he took the biscuit and munched on it. Matthew hugged him. The words, _I'm sorry_, threatened to spill from his mouth but he stopped them just in time.

Instead, he uttered, "I love you."

Alfred laughed.

"Love you too, bro. But be careful not to say that too much or your manliness will disappear," he laughed at his own joke.

A while later, Alfred was treating the cat with much more respect. At night, Pepe cuddled up to Matthew on his bed as a silent thank you.

* * *

Yes. A bit too serious, perhaps. I'll try to make a funnier chapter next time.


	38. Dresses and Weddings

What started out as a joke became something else for Alfred. The male doll looked strangely good in his frilly pink dress and it occurred to the boy how unfair it was that only girls got to wear them. He pointed it out at dinner one day.

"So can I have a dress?" he asked his daddy.

"For goodness sakes, Alfred. People will laugh at you," Arthur argued.

"But I'm too awesome for people to make fun of!"

"He's got a point there," Grandpa said.

Matthew looked up from his roasted duck. It's one of grandma's best dishes.

"But I thought you said it's funny to take away masculinity?" he reminded his brother.

Alfred simply laughed confidently.

"Wearing a dress won't take away my masculinity. It will enhance it! Only real men wear dresses."

Francis winked at Arthur, causing his husband to have a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"What's with that look, Francis?" he asked his husband.

"Maybe if you put on a dress, you'll be manlier too."

"Stop it," Arthur glared, then turned to Alfred, "What would your classmates say if they saw you in a dress?"

"I'm sure Ivan will like it."

"I'm sure he'll like it too much!"

Grandpa and grandma both laughed at how cute the family was. Francis, meanwhile, was starting to get really into the idea of Arthur in a dress. At their wedding, they both wore tuxedos and Arthur had never had the urge to cross dress, as far as Francis knew.

Wouldn't it be nice to see him in pretty laces? His face grew red. Matthew sank into his seat as he saw his papa was being weird again. Arthur blushed too.

"What are you thinking about?" he demanded.

"You, in a dress," Francis answered honestly.

"Don't talk about this in front of your parents."

"I don't mind," Grandpa Pierre reassured. Instead of looking appeased, Arthur looked disturbed.

"You're just as perverse as your son."

"Of course. Where do you think he got it?"

Alfred pouted at all the adults ignoring him. Why were they talking about Daddy being in a dress when he was the one who asked? He imagined himself in a bride's dress on his wedding day, with a smiling Ivan at the altar.

Pause. He did a double take. Why did he imagine Ivan at the altar. Sure he liked him, but only as a friend. Right?

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of them marrying one day. Arthur stared down at him as he noticed how red Alfred's face had become.

"What are you thinking about?"

Alfred shook his head with a bashful smile.

"N-nothing, Daddy!"

"I know that look," Francis said suddenly, "The question Daddy should've asked is, who are thinking about?"

His joke was lighthearted, so Alfred didn't take offense. Arthur, on the other hand, was practically fuming.

"Alfred. Whatever you're thinking. Stop it right now."

That was strange since Arthur usually told Alfred to think more. He looked at his father.

"Can I have a dress? Please?"

"No!"

And that was the end of their conversation.


	39. The Pet Name

It was a crisp and clear morning in Paris as twelve year old Francis made his way to school. It was a safe neighborhood and the walking distance wasn't too bad, so Francis often got the leisure of having a morning stroll before school. He smirked when he saw the figure in front of him, and rushed toward the young boy.

"Arthur! Mon lapin."

He managed to catch up to him, even with Arthur increasing the speed of his strides in an attempt to avoid Francis. They were friends now but lately Francis had been flirting more and more often. Arthur would pretend to get angry when his feelings were in reality confused at what his friend was doing. He would often feel flustered from all the special attention Francis gave him. Arthur glared at the French boy.

"Why do you always have to call me that? Just because I have rabbits for friends doesn't make me one."

Arthur was blushing and that caused Francis to blush too. One day, Francis hoped to be such an experienced flirt that he never showed a blush on his face. It would make him seem cooler that way. But Arthur could blush as much as he wanted to. Francis certainly wouldn't complain.

"What would you rather me call you?"

"Why not my name?"

"Don't you want a name that symbolizes our friendship and endearment towards each other?" Francis argued.

"Then call me your ami. You used to do that all the time."

Francis shook his head, dissatisfied with the suggestion. He flicked his super clean hair out of his face and imagined for a second what Arthur's hair would look like with his shampoo. And what it would smell like….

Francis had been getting a lot of weird thoughts like this one lately, but he never could explain why. The thoughts gave him a nice feeling, though, so he enjoyed having them.

"But lapin is a lot cuter."

"I'm not cute, Francis! I'm a grown man."

This got Francis to crack up laughing. Because no matter how stuck up his friend acts, he could never imagine Arthur as a grown up. It would be just too weird.

Arthur pouted and looked away, trying not to enjoy the sound of Francis's laughter. Francis recovered enough to respond.

"I think you're cute. Especially when you give me my pet name."

"I don't give you a pet name, frog."

"Yes you do. You said it just now."

"What? You think frog is a pet name?" now Arthur was confused. Francis merely smiled at his friend's glance that looked like he was silently questioning his sanity.

"I'm the only one you call frog. And you're the only one I call lapin. We were made for each other that way, don't you agree."

"I told you. I'm not going to date you. We're not old enough."

"But you said you were a grown man," Francis reminded him. He felt slightly hurt but tried not to show it. For a long time, he wanted to dine with Arthur and call it a date. They ate together plenty of times before but Francis felt like calling it a date would bring them closer together.

And Papa did tell Francis that if he managed to woo Arthur, he would finally have him in his bed. Francis had no idea what he meant by that, nor did he understand why Mama slapped Papa after telling him that. But Papa knew how to date, so Francis wasn't going to argue with his advice.

"Well…I….yes but.."

"So it's a date?" Francis smiled.

Arthur was now officially as red as a cherry.

"I'll date you if you stop calling me your lapin."

But Francis never stopped calling him that. Lapin was just too cute to give up.


	40. Kitty Plan

Matthew was happy to give Alfred lessons on how to treat a cat. First was petting. Alfred tried to rub Pepe's belly but Matthew informed him that most cats don't like that. Matthew placed a hand on Pepe's head and rubbed.

"Like this."

"Okay," Alfred went and copied the action. Pepe tolerated this for a while but Matthew noticed him getting agitated, as his tail swayed back and forward from pent up energy.

"No more, Al. He's about to burst."

But his brother didn't listen.

"But he's wagging his tail. That's what they do when they're happy, right?"

Before Matthew could correct him and tell him that his brother was thinking of a dog, Pepe chomped down on the hand that had been petting him. Alfred was about to open up his mouth to cry when Matthew stopped him. Alfred was so confused about his brother's actions that he forgotten all about crying out for his parents. Pepe, in the meanwhile, let go of Alfred's hand and made a run for it.

"Why did you keep me quiet, Mattie?"

Matthew frowned. He had never told Alfred about the tiny friend he made back at home. It looked like he would have to now.

"I was afraid that if you told on Pepe, then Daddy would never let me have a cat of my own," Matthew continued by telling his brother about the white cat in London. Alfred's eyes sparkled with pleasure.

"Really? Cool! I would totally love to have a cat at home too. We can get all sorts of cat toys and it will be neat. Kiku will be totes jelly, because he loves cats but doesn't have any! Do you really think Daddy will let us? Do you? Do you? Do you?"

Matthew tried to shush him to settle down. Alfred did, though the wide smile remained on his face. It caused Matthew to smile too by just seeing it.

"So, don't tell Daddy, okay?"

"Okay!"

Satisfied that his big brother was now in on the secret, Matthew dared to daydream about what it would be like to have a cat in the house. Matthew would have a furry friend to pet and snuggle up with. He would get to feed it too. He only hoped that when the time comes to reveal the cat to Daddy, his English father would have no objections.

"But how are we going to get Daddy to let us have him?" Alfred asked, suddenly.

Matthew leaned in to whisper.

"If we can prove that we're good with cats, maybe we can convince him to let us."

Alfred smiled. Matthew knew he must be feeling like a secret agent, trying to carry out a plan as a means to an end. Matthew stared up to think.

"But I wonder what we should call him? If we do get to keep him, I mean."

"Of course we will!" Alfred stated loudly, "Don't worry, bro. You think up a name while I show Daddy how awesome tubular I treat Pepe."

Was it just Matthew or was Alfred's way of speaking sounding…stranger? They never had the typical English accent for whatever reason, but Alfred never sounded like he was even trying to speak properly.

Alfred left to practice petting Pepe. Matthew frowned after him, worried that he might get bit again. But he seemed really eager to learn, so Matthew should try not to doubt him. He decided to allow himself the pleasure to daydream about his friend. What should his name be?


	41. Calling Friends

Matthew gave Grandma Ada a big hug while Alfred chatted up with Grandpa Pierre. Arthur was relieved that they were finally heading back to England.

"Can I call Gilbert when we get back?" Matthew asked.

Arthur frowned. Maybe they should stay a little while longer. Too late. The grandparents already saw them out the door and Francis was driving away in their rental car.

"Sure, mon cher."

"Wait a minute. Do you really think he should start talking on the phone? Isn't he a little young?" Arthur pressed, hoping to convince his husband not to let Matthew talk to that German kid he was sure had bad thoughts.

Matthew frowned, worried that his daddy wouldn't let him talk to his friend. He wanted to tell Gilbert all about Pepe. Francis took a moment to think.

"We let him talk on the phone before, non? When he's talking to his grandparents."

"True but they're-" Arthur was cut off.

"So he should be old enough to talk to his friends."

Arthur leaned forward to whisper in Francis's ear, or more like hiss.

"But what if that Gilbert kid wants to start something with Matthew?"

"Like what?" Francis whispered back.

"Well…you know."

"No. I don't. Do enlighten me as to what you're thinking Gilbert wants with Matthew."

Arthur sent him a cold stare but Francis kept his eyes on the road so he wouldn't see it. It wasn't his fault that Arthur had a habit of going over the top ten car safety rules every time Francis decided to take the wheel.

"He wants to go out with him. He probably wants more than that too."

"He's five years old."

"Stop playing that five year old card on me!" Arthur unintentionally screeched, so the two children in the back could hear.

Alfred's ears perked up.

"A card like that exists? Can I use it whenever I want to get McDonald's?"

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked his son.

"You know. Playing cards to get what you want. Like how you always say your boss is always playing the gender card and then calling her a big-"

"Dat dat dat! We told you not to say those words, cher," Francis scolded.

There was an awkward silence. Matthew was too afraid to bring the topic back up. Fortunately, his brother was ready to do it himself.

"If Mattie can call Gilbert. Can I call Kiku? I wanna tell him about the cat. He'll be so jealous."

The Britain pondered this. He knew he could trust Kiku, since the Japanese child was so reserved and never once hugged Alfred, unlike Gilbert and Ivan touching his precious boys whenever they felt like.

"Alright."

The easy agreement caused Matthew's mouth to open.

"But then, can't I talk to Gilbert? Since he can talk to Kiku?"

Arthur frowned, about to come up with a reason why he couldn't, when Francis spoke up.

"Of course. You two should be treated equally. That's a word we Frenchmen know to cherish."

Arthur grumbled because he knew now his husband was playing the nation card. He didn't want his sons to love France more than they love England, so it looked like he would have to let this go.


	42. Bows for Matt

She pinched his cheeks immediately upon sight, making the young platinum haired boy cringe. But Gilbert got to laugh when his grandma went to Ludwig and proceeded to do the exact same thing. It was hysterical to see Ludwig keep a straight face so that the adult he respected so much wouldn't catch on to his annoyance. Ludwig gave Gilbert a dark look when Gilbert made a face at him. Their grandma didn't notice.

Their mother left the boys alone with their grandmother. Now they were at the mercy of unrelentless gushing and cuddling.

"So Gilbert," their grandma started in their native German language, "Have you found yourself a cute girlfriend yet?"

Gilbert felt his heart stir, yet somehow it dropped at the same time. Grandma always spoke about how he would get himself a girlfriend, but Gilbert found himself liking the idea of dating Matt a lot more.

But Matt was a boy.

Grandma pulled out something long and pink from her purse, her mouth stretching into a wide smile as she handed it to Gilbert. Now it was Ludwig's turn to look amused.

"Once you get yourself a girlfriend, introduce her to me. And have her wear this pretty bow. Pink ribbon makes a woman. It was what I wore when I first dated your grandfather."

Gilbert knew better than to refuse, so he took it. Grandma was nice and all, she gave a lot of money for birthdays and Christmases, but she was very bossy. As if it wouldn't be hard enough to try to date someone as cool as Matt, but now he had to find a girlfriend instead? He liked Matt more than any girl he had ever seen.

Grandma went over to help Mother with her cooking, leaving Gilbert alone with his little brother. Ludwig no longer seemed amused. Once Ludwig saw the sad and rare serious expression on Gilbert's face, he felt himself in a sympathetic mood.

"Vat's vong?" he asked his older brother.

Gilbert faked a smile, "Nothing."

"Liar," Ludwig stated blandly.

Gilbert's smile fell. Ludwig was getting awfully smart every day. He used to have no trouble fooling him.

"Fine. I'll tell you. I vant to date Matt. But she vants me to date a girl."

Ludwig took a good look at the long ribbon dangling in Gilbert's hands.

"Maybe she won't complain as long as somebody vears it? Vhy don't you have Matt put it on?"

The suggestion sounded simple enough but it had a weird impact on Gilbert's chest. His heart suddenly raced and his face heated up as he thought about Matt wearing a pretty bow on his head.

Ludwig frowned, "You're all red. Are you okay?"

Gilbert laughed nervously.

"Of course. I vas just thinking about something stupid. Nothing to worry your silly little head vith."

A glare. But it just made Gilbert laugh for real this time. Nothing like messing with his brother in order to cheer him up.

"You're thinking of Matt in a bow, aren't you?"

His only response was a guilty smile. Ludwig sighed.

"I'll never understand you. I'll never fall in love," Ludwig said.

"Good."

Ludwig stared hard at Gilbert.

"Good?"

"'Course. As your elder bruder, it is my duty to make sure no one dates you."

Despite saying he would never fall in love, Ludwig was worried how serious Gilbert seemed.

"But vhy? Vat about this new kid in my class? I like him a lot-"

"Nope. No one is allowed to date you."

Ludwig wished he hadn't said anything.


	43. Terror of Baths

Playing outside was so fun, especially when you got a bunch of dirt on your pants and face. That just made it all the sweeter to Alfred, since he loved getting dirty. The only thing he hated about it was when his papa saw him, so Alfred snuck into the house, careful not to let either dad see him.

"Oh? What's this?" a voice from behind him scooped him up. Francis smiled at his catch while Alfred struggled in his arms. Oh no! No no no. Not this.

"Time for a bath," stated the Frenchman.

"I don't need a bath. I'm clean….ish."

Francis inspected the dirt covered face on his son with a playful smirk. Alfred tried to distract him.

"Maybe Mattie needs to have a bath first?"

He figured that by the time he finished bathing his brother, Papa would forget all about bathing him.

"He already had one. Now it's your turn."

Alfred's heart sank. His papa led him away and filled the tub. Alfred hated getting clean, because it took a lot of work to be clean. And work was no fun.

Francis chuckled at how distraught his young son appeared.

"No pouting."

That only made Alfred pout more. Francis placed his in the bath once it was full of warm water. Alfred was sad to see the dirt on his arms disappear as Francis cleaned them. He brought a cloth and wiped his face.

Alfred cringed and rubbed his eyes.

"I got soap in my eyes! We have to stop."

"Strange. I didn't even put soap on the washrag yet."

"I want out!"

Francis dabbed some soap on the cloth and started cleaning his back. He thought of ways to convince his older son to cooperate. Matthew loved baths. If only he could get Alfred to be half as willing to clean himself up.

"Don't be so difficult. Having a bath can be really fun. Your father and I both like a long soak."

"But I don't," Alfred insisted, "And what if my hands shrivel up and disappear? What if I have no hands left by the time we're done?"

"You really think I would wash your hands off?" Francis mocked a pout.

He slathered a bit more soap on Alfred. It smelled nice and clean and Alfred hated it. Superman didn't care if he got dirty. Neither did Spiderman or Batman. Why did Papa make such a big deal out of it?

The bath was finished and Alfred pouted the whole time. Once the toddler was dry, he turned around and angrily stomped away. Francis sighed. It looked like Alfred was going to give him the silent treatment. Maybe he should think about giving him a bath toy?

That in mind, Francis decided that tomorrow after work, he would look to see if the toy store has any bath toys with superheroes. Then Alfred would never hate him for bathing him again. Did he hate water that much? Maybe he should call him chat too? Oh well.


	44. Ice Skating

Since he wanted to be in hockey so much, and since Arthur couldn't say no to a cute face like Matthew's for long, he enrolled his son into an ice skating class. Although, he demanded that he had training skates and they were indeed provided for Matthew, Arthur was still very nervous once he caught sight of the shiny ice floor.

Mattew smiled in excitement. He was just about to edged onto the ice when his father tugged him back, preventing him from going any farther. Matthew frowned up at his daddy. Papa was at home, so it was up to him to ease his daddy's worries.

"I'll be careful, Daddy. I promise."

Arthur glanced at the class. The teacher was waiting expectantly, as well as many other eager but nervous toddlers. One fell on his feet and began whimpering, causing Arthur to grip more tightly onto Matthew's hand. The teacher went to the crying toddler and soothed him.

"Maybe we should wait a few more days before trying to go onto the ice?" he suggested hopefully.

"But then I'll be behind in class. Please let me go? I promise I'll be okay. Pretty please?"

Arthur peered down at his pleading little son, those purple eyes wide as the toddler begged. The Britain sucked in a breath to steady his nerves.

"Okay. But be safe. I'll be right here in case you get too scared. Or want to go home? Or something like that."

Matthew nodded, thinking that was leave for him to go. However, as he tried to pull out of Arthur's grasp, he found that his father was still holding on tight. He gave his father a questioning glance but Arthur didn't seem to notice.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"I need you to let go so I can get to class."

Matthew felt guilty when he saw the hurt and scared look on his daddy's face. The green eyes were downcast in worry, like Arthur was sure that letting go would immediately result in Matthew breaking his leg.

"But…I…"

"Mr…" the teacher looked at the notepad and arched a brow, "Is it Kirkland or Bonnefoy?"

"Kirkland," Arthur answered, sounding offended that the teacher didn't know. Matthew knew that his daddies never agreed who was going to have the other's name, so they would sign both surnames and confuse people constantly.

"Mr. Kirkland. We need to get started. So please let go of Matthew and I promise he's in good hands."

Arthur sighed in defeat. Obeying rules were his one weakness. He kissed Matthe on the head.

"Please be very, very careful."

Matthew smiled and cautiously edged to the ice. The teacher had him hold on tight to the handle like his classmates were doing. The teacher, a big man named Mr. Ward, blew his whistle.

"Who wants to skate toward me first?"

Arthur practically screamed when he saw Matthew hold up his hand. He was the only one since the other children were too scared.

"Alright. Let me show you, then copy."

Mr. Ward slid easily on the course. Excited, Matthew made his move and found it surprisingly easy to skate, like he was meant for it his whole life. Everyone was impressed, including Mr. Ward.

But his natural ability didn't ease his father's worries. Arthur wanted to get Matthew to be examined by a doctor afterward, even if he didn't fall once.


	45. Library Trip

"Welcome to the Summer Reading Program," the young woman smiled down at them, "What would you two like to read about?"

Matthew grinned with all the excitement of a chocoholic with a hundred dollar gift card to a Godiva store. Alfred frowned, dejected that he couldn't go outside and play. The only reason why he wasn't sprinting the other direction was because his father had a tight hold on him.

"Can I read a science book? Oh, and a math one too? And a biography about a hockey player? And a light novel?" Matthew asked. His questions caught the woman off guard and her expression caused Arthur to laugh.

"Slow down, Matt. I've never seen you more excited for something than your brother," he glowered when he felt Alfred try to pry out of his grip, "Now stop it, young man. It's time for you to start reading."

Alfred shook his head swiftly.

"No! I don't like reading. It's boring."

"It very well is not," Arthur scolded.

"Is to."

Arthur was not in the mood to argue. He focused back on the woman in front of him.

"I suppose those books might be a little advance for his age. Can you direct us to the level ones?"

The woman smiled and pointed to a section with hundreds of picture books. Matthew set out on his own to look for something he might like to read. Alfred was close to throwing a fit, so Arthur leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Behave, or no tv for a week."

"That's not fair."

Before Arthur could respond, Matthew came back.

"There's a guy over there reading to children. Come on, Al."

Alfred frowned but took his little brother's hand anyway. He wasn't about to give Mattie trouble. He'd give his dad plenty of trouble anytime, but to do the same to Matthew just seemed cruel.

Arthur followed them to where a volunteer was reading the Giving Tree. A good choice, Arthur mused. Matthew and Alfred sat down with the rest of the children, Alfred silently sulking. But at least he was being quiet.

The man continued to read and Arthur found himself drawn to the story as much as the children were. He happened to cast a glance in his sons' direction and to his surprise, found Alfred leaning in with interest in his eyes. The man finished the story where the boy turned into an old man and the tree was nothing more than a stump, but at least they were together.

The man finished and told the children where this book can be found. Alfred scurried off and found it, seeming embarrassed when he saw Arthur smirking down at him.

"Like that book, did you?" he asked.

Alfred looked away sheepishly, as if liking a book was something shameful to him. Matthew checked out three books and Alfred only had that one. But Arthur still considered this to be a very successful trip.


	46. Acceptance Letter

**Special chapter.**

* * *

The parchment in his hand seemed to sing like an angel's choir. A mere seventeen years of age and Matthew got accepted into the best school in Canada with a full ride scholarship in his belt. He hugged onto it tightly. He decided to share the news over at dinner.

His parents and brother were silently eating when he came downstairs. Not much has changed since they were kids. Arthur still scolded Alfred for every little thing.

"You're supposed to eat the food. Not inhale it," he told Alfred.

"Hey Dad. Michael wanted to trade times with me and he works overnight. So I was wondering-"

"Absolutely not, young man. You know your curfew."

Matthew frowned when he realized his dilemma. Arthur was still as overprotective as ever, so how was he going to take the news? Matthew thought maybe he should tell Papa first. He looked at his acceptance letter and put in his pocket. However, Alfred caught sight of him.

"What are you hiding, Mattie?"

_Curse you, Al._ Matthew scolded. Arthur and Francis looked up expectedly at him, waiting for whatever was on his mind. Matthew took a deep breath. Might as well just say it.

"I got accepted into a school in Canada. And they're offering a full scholarship."

Just like that, Arthur's face crashed into horror. Francis, on the other hand, shot up and hugged Matthew tightly.

"How wonderful! I knew you could get into any school you wanted. So, you're finally going to see your favorite country then?"

Matthew's favorite hockey team of all time was from Canada, so that was where his fascination with the country came from. Alfred came up to congratulate him too. But Arthur was frozen in his seat, making Alfred the one to do the scolding.

"Dad, you should congratulate him!"

Francis frowned at the lack of response from his husband. He took Arthur's arm and excused themselves, leaving behind an unnerved Matthew.

Once the two were alone, Francis forced Arthur to look him in the eye.

"Now lapin. We talked about this. We knew it was coming soon."

"I thought it wouldn't even be up for discussion for another year," Arthur looked ready to cry, "Couldn't he choose a school closer to home? He wouldn't even have to move out if he did that."

"You know he's wanted to live in Canada for a long time, mon amour. And the full ride scholarship will make it easy for him to find a place he can afford."

"Live by himself? Without me?"

Uh oh. Arthur was going to start crying, perhaps even harder than when the twins first insisted on bathing themselves. Francis hugged onto his husband tightly, whispering soothing nothings in his ear.

"Don't worry. Look on the bright side. Once both kids move out, we can have the house all to ourselves. We can make love in the living room if we wanted to."

The joke –he was joking, right?- caused a slight chuckle from Arthur. He was still heartbroken but he knew he would have to let go soon. And maybe…maybe there's a slight chance that Matthew would change his mind. And Alfred certainly wasn't going anywhere, right?


	47. Crazy?

Kiku and Ivan both frowned when they witnessed their friend go insane. Alfred waved his arms at no one and was arguing with himself.

"Nu uh! Blue is totally better. I know what I'm doing, Tony."

Alfred gasped unconvincingly and grabbed a red crayon with one hand while the other hand tried to stop its partner.

"No! Not red! Not red!" the hand colored in the drawing with the crayon. Alfred glared, "That wasn't nice, Tony."

Uh oh. He better talk to Alfred and stop him from being crazy, Ivan decided. Otherwise, Alfred would be forced into a mental institution and he wouldn't be able to see his tiny friend ever again. The thought was horrifying to him.

Ivan came up and put a hand on Alfred's shoulder. Blue eyes stared up at him curiously.

"Hey Vanya. What's up, bro?"

"Who are you talking to?"

"Oh. This is Tony. My friend," Alfred pointed to nothing.

"Of course he is. Just a second, Fredka."

Ivan went back to Kiku with a terrified look.

"What are we going to do? If the grown-ups see him talking to himself, they'll take him away."

"You mean straight jacket?" Kiku asked.

Oh no. Ivan had an image of his precious friend in one of those terrible contraptions and it scared him. Fredka had too much of a free spirit to be put in a situation where he couldn't use his arms. The situation was more serious than he first thought.

"Maybe. Oh what can we do?"

"We got to cure his craziness. I heard you can stop crazy by drinking water."

"Are you sure you're not thinking of hiccups?"

Kiku thought for a moment, then nodded.

"I am pretty sure that is what my uncle told me."

They went to get several plastic cups and filled it with water. Then they brought them back to Alfred. The other boy stopped talking to himself in order to watch his friends carry more water. They didn't stop until there was at least a dozen cups.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Quick! Drink. Your fate depends on it," Kiku exclaimed.

"Wha-"

"Drink!" shouted the Japanese boy as he thrusted a cup in Alfred's hands.

Alfred took the cup and drank it, fearful that Kiku was going to yell at him again. Ivan gave him another cup. Alfred looked ready to decline but refrained when he saw Ivan's sad face. He drank a third and fourth cup. Then fifth and sixth.

"No more guys. Whatever you're doing, didn't I drink enough?"

"Can you see him anymore?" Ivan asked.

"Who?"

"It worked! Let's go play blocks, Kiku," Ivan told him.

Kiku agreed and the two boys left. Alfred looked at all the cups of water and turned to no one.

"Can you drink the rest of this? I got to go potty. See you, Tony."

Alfred left without another word. He wondered what in the world came over his friends. Were they going crazy or something? He sure hoped not.


	48. Where's the Cat?

Gilbert noticed that his quiet friend was slightly more forlorn than usual, which led to him growing concern. It was such an unawesome thing to see Mattie feeling unawesome. Whenever Ludwig felt bad, Gilbert would have to pry information out of him in order to learn what was wrong. He had a bad feeling that Mattie wouldn't be making things any easier.

But he had to help, even if it wasn't going to be simple. So he walked over to where Mattie was hunched over with his blocks. The small boy wasn't even playing with them.

"Vat's vong, Mattie?"

Startled, Matthew jerked his head upward at his friend and flashed a very unconvincing smile.

"What? Nothing? What makes you ask?"

Gilbert sat down next to him. Matthew was a few inches shorter than him and that was one of many reasons why the German child felt so protective of him.

Matthew's phony grin soon faltered when he saw that he wasn't fooling Gilbert. The silver haired boy wasn't used to talking about feelings but that wasn't going to stop him now.

"Something's vong," it wasn't a question.

Matthew fidgeted with his hands.

"I guess…Remember the cat?"

"Yeah. He hasn't come by in a while though."

Matthew's lips quibbled. So that was the problem. Matthew had grown close to the cat, so Gilbert knew that he must be feeling a bit abandoned by it. Dumb cat, Gilbert thought to himself. He didn't deserve Mattie anyway.

"Don't worry. You'll get a better cat."

Gilbert didn't know this for a fact, of course. But he wanted to make Mattie feel better. Matthew's eyes quirked at his friend's determined statement. He smiled and this time it looked a little less forced.

"I don't think I will. I really liked him."

"He should've stayed with you then," Gilbert said, angry at the cat for making his friend sad.

"Maybe something happened? Maybe something's wrong with him?" Matthew's slight smile was already gone.

Meanwhile, Mr. Edelstein noticed his star pupil looking even more solemn than usual. He was glad that Gilbert was trying to help but at the same time, Mr. Edelstein figured this might be a job for an adult. Matthew was always nervous whenever Mr. Edelstein paid him any mind, something that the teacher got used to. So Mr. Edelstein wasn't surprised when Matthew stared up at him almost fearfully once he stood closer to the boys.

"Is something the matter, Williams?"

Matthew was too nervous to speak, so Gilbert answered for him.

"It's the dumb cat."

Cat? Mr. Edelstein vaguely remembered these two children being fascinated with feeding one before. Was it the same one?

"Vat about the cat?"

"He's gone. He won't come back," Gilbert glared, "Maybe he doesn't like us anymore."

Matthew sunk at the suggestion, "Maybe…"

"Or," Mr. Edelstein proposed, "If the cat was a stray, it might have been taken to the pound."

Matthew shot up in terror, as if he was about to bolt out the door and search for the creature.

"The pound? Will he get hurt?"

Mr. Edelstein decided to try and ease the boy's fears.

"Probably not. They're probably going to try and get him adopted into a new family. They don't vant a lot of stray cats around the city. That's why they take the ones without collars and give them new homes."

"Oh, I see."

"The cat will be fine," with that statement, their teacher left.

Matthew fell to his thoughts. Gilbert decided to interrupt his friend's thought process before Mattie's brain came up with something else to worry about.

"See? Maybe he's alright after all."

"But what if someone adopts him? Then I won't see him again?"

Gilbert smiled.

"Didn't you say your birthday's coming up soon?"

"Yeah…why?"

"Well, maybe you can ask to get a cat."

Matthew perked up at this. He hadn't asked for anything yet and his daddies tried desperately to get him to request something. Maybe this was his chance?

Maybe he could finally have his friend for a pet?


	49. Punk Stage

"Ready or not, here I come!" Alfred cried.

Mattie was nowhere in sight, so Alfred figured he must be hiding somewhere extra secret. Daddy's closet. Of course. That would be the best hiding place to be in. And Mattie was smart, so of course he would have thought of that.

Alfred immediately went upstairs. Mattie would be so surprised when his best hiding place was found so quickly. Alfred couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

The young boy was so confident that he knew how his brother thought that he never once considered the possibility he might be wrong. So his entire face fell when he went inside the closet to find no Mattie in sight.

He looked around, as if Mattie would just appear in the closet even though he obviously wasn't there now. It soon became obvious that Matthew was not going to just appear out of thin air. Alfred was about to give up when he saw something. A strange box that looked sort of like one of those music boxes. Alfred threw it opened but frowned when no music played. That was disappointing.

Oh? But what was that? Alfred held the trinket in his hands and smiled. That was so neat! He was going to wear it.

A while later, Alfred gave up.

"Alright! You win, Matt."

The boy came forward a few seconds later. Matthew eyes grew wide when they saw what was around Alfred's neck.

"Where did you get that?"

Alfred looked at the pendent Mattie was pointing at. He grinned from ear to ear, eager to share his exploits.

"I found it in the closet while I was looking for you. Cool, huh?"

Mattie placed a hand to his mouth that was slightly ajar.

"It looks kind of scary."

"I think it looks neat-o. Doesn't it remind you of Ghost Rider? He's not my favorite hero but he's still pretty cool."

The necklace did indeed look like Ghost Rider, as it was a flaming skull pendent. Francis came into the room.

"Time for some lun-" Francis paused when he saw the necklace Alfred had on. He stared at it so long that Alfred felt a little self-conscious.

"That was your father's," Francis stated with an awed voice. He didn't sound mad, so Alfred felt a little more at ease.

"Really? Daddy used to wear things like that?" Mattie asked in bewilderment.

"I knew the old man had a cool side!" Alfred exclaimed.

Arthur came into the room with a glower.

"I heard that young man. Don't call me-" just like Francis, he paused when he saw the necklace. Unlike Francis, however, he freaked out immediately afterwards.

"Where did you find that? I thought I hid it away forever!"

"Dude, why would you hide something like this? It's cool! Papa says you wore it. Why don't you wear it anymore?"

Arthur took away the pendant as if it was a snake around his son's neck. Alfred reached out to it but Arthur didn't give it back.

"I was a really confused young man. How I thought this was appropriate to wear, I'll never know."

"Then can I have it?" Alfred asked.

Arthur gaped in horror and the sight brought out a laugh from Francis. The deep chuckle brought Arthur out of it. Their British father glared at his husband.

"No one's wearing this. I forbid it."

Alfred turned to his French father for help.

"Papa! Make Daddy give me the necklace."

Matthew frowned, stating, "We shouldn't make them fight, Al."

Alfred stomped his foot angrily, "But-"

"Guess what I recorded?" Francis stated out of the blue, "Iron Man."

"Wow!" Alfred rushed out of the room to watch the telly. Matthew followed him.

Arthur smiled at Francis gratefully. But the smile fell when Francis plucked the necklace out of his hands.

"I better take this. Before you zink of getting rid of it. Better not part with this, amour. So many memories, you know?"

Those were the memories Arthur rather not keep. Francis held onto the necklace protectively. It wasn't going to be easy to get rid of that.


	50. Matt Cat

Papa shook him awake from his small nap. Matthew yawned and rubbed his eyes, glancing at the wide smile on Papa's face. The Frenchman gave his son a wink.

"I got a surprise for you. Let's take a car trip."

Matthew blinked at the suddenness of this situation. He turned to note that Alfred was still fast asleep. His brother had fought Daddy tooth and nail about the nap but in the end, Daddy had won. Now all that energy Alfred used with fighting him made his brother extra tired.

"Don't worry about Alfred. We'll be right back."

"Where are we going?" Matthew asked.

"It's a surprise."

A little while later, they were driving in the car. Matthew couldn't see out the window since he was so tiny but he could feel that they stopped somewhere. Francis helped him out of the car and carried him toward a large brick building.

Matthew was startled to hear a chorus of barking coming from somewhere in the building. Hope rose in his chest. Was this what he thought it was?

The woman on the counter glanced at them behind purple rimmed glasses.

"How can I help you?"

"We want to see the cats," Francis stated.

Matthew nearly burst in glee, which wasn't like him. He was finally going to get to see his friend again!

But what if he wasn't here? Matthew's heart sank at the thought. What if the white kitten wasn't here? The woman led them to a place filled with cages. Cats were everywhere, some sleeping, some playing with toys provided for them, and some just glancing at them curiously.

Matthew saw some big cats and small cats, black cats and brown, talkative cats and quiet ones too. But he couldn't spot that one special cat. The woman was still there. Matthew dared to do something he rather not do. Ask for help. He never liked inconveniencing someone by seeking aid, and yet Matthew was too afraid he wouldn't be able to find his cat to care.

"Um…ma'am?"

The woman looked at him curiously.

"Are there any white kittens?"

Francis looked worried. Now he knew that Mattew wasn't just looking for any cat. He wanted that one special cat.

"There is one we found a few weeks ago. He's over there."

She pointed to a cage all the way to the wall. Francis took Matthew over and the boy closed his eyes to brace himself. He didn't think he could handle this kind of disappointment if it was a different cat.

He steadily opened his eyes. And he was greeted with the sight of his old friend. The cat even seemed to recognize him, since it got out of its small cat bed and meowed hello. Matthew jumped for joy.

"Can we get him Papa? Can we can we can we?"

Francis had to hold on tight to keep his son from falling.

"Calm down, Matthew. I have never seen you act so much like Alfred. Of course we'll take him, if that's what you want."

"Yeah!" Matthew didn't care how much he sounded like Alfred just then.


	51. Kumajirou

"What's his name?" Alfred asked his brother.

Matthew peered into the cat's gleaming eyes, wondering how to answer. The cat surveyed his surroundings in wonder, looking at Arthur the longest. It would appear that Francis did this without Arthur's permission, for the Englishman was staring at his husband sourly. But too afraid to hurt his son's feelings, Arthur kept his mouth shut, thinking of all the extra chores Francis would have to do in order to repent.

Meanwhile, Alfred gave the cat a pet, just how Matthew taught him.

"Kiku shows me this cartoon character that's hip in Japan. He looks kinda like this cat, 'cept he's a polar bear. I think his name is Kumajirou."

"That's a mouthful, Alfred. How did you manage to remember that name?" asked Papa.

"Kiku's been talking about it forever."

Kumajirou. Even though it was a Japanese name, Matthew noticed that the cat's ears perked up when Alfred said it. Matthew tried it out on his own lips.

"Kuma..jirou."

Once more, the cat's ears twitched and it turned its black eyes toward Matthew. It was settled then.

"I want to call him Kumajirou."

Arthur blinked at the rare conviction coming from his shy son.

"Are you sure, luv? That's a very hard name to remember."

"You can call him Kuma if you want. But I really want to name him Kumajirou."

"Meow," the kitten coos.

Alfred turned to his brother.

"What did he say?"

Matthew frowned, "I don't speak cat."

Francis grinned and gave his younger son a playful wink, placing a hand on his head. Matthew braced himself for more teasing.

"Aren't you a little chat, mon cher? Why don't you meow at Kuma?"

Arthur blushed and rushed out the door.

"Wait! Let me get the camera first. Then meow at the cat."

After a few newly made home movies, Matthew finally got time with Kumajirou alone. He was lying down while letting his new cat curl up on his stomach. The cat's eyes were closed in slumber, his back moving up and down with his steady breathing.

"I'm glad I finally got you. I was waiting a long time, you know? Ever since I met you."

The cat continued to sleep.

"I wonder what you're dreaming about," Matthew allowed himself to close his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Matthew was walking on all fours, sniffing at the air curiously. He was now a cat. His claws felt iffy, so he sharpened them using the couch. Daddy came up with a harsh glare.

"Down!"

Matthew usually hated getting scolded at, but now that he was a cat, he couldn't care less. Alfred came up and petted his head.

"There there, Mattcat."

Francis set down a bowl of homemade cat food. He gave Mattcat a pet just like he did before Matthew's nap.

"There, now wake up."

Mattcat meowed an inquiry. Francis's pets became a little harder, until he was shaking him awake.

"Wake up now. You need to be tired enough for bedtime."

Matthew woke up to see his papa smiling down at him. Kumajirou was gone and Matthew wondered if he was interested in seeing the rest of the house. Cats were awfully curious creatures, if his dream was anything to go by.


	52. A New Friend

Ludwig was not really paying attention to the picture book in front of his face. The new kid at daycare, Feliciano, was smiling as he did his finger painting. Feliciano was always smiling, no matter what. Ludwig wanted to be his friend.

But every time he thought of something to say to the Italian boy, he choked up. What if Feliciano didn't like him? What if he said something foolish? Ludwig wasn't use to feeling afraid. It was usually easy for him to focus on what he was doing and how to do it, without fear of failure getting in the way.

He took a glance at the artwork Feliciano was working on. It was pretty well done for someone who was three years old. The squirrel looked real and so did the chestnut it was holding. Feliciano even made the unique choice of mixing red paint with the brown, so the squirrel looked the same color as the real ones.

Ludwig looked out of the corner of his eye and was stunned to see Felciano looking at him. Oh no, he had been caught staring. Ludwig looked at his book once more, but it was too late. The Italian boy was coming over, rubbing his hands into his apron until the paint was mostly dry on his skin.

The German boy dared to look up. His mouth went dry, for this was the first time that smile was aimed at him.

"Ciao."

Ludwig blinked. What did he say? Feliciano giggled at the funny lost look on Ludwig's face.

"I mean, hello."

"Oh," Ludwig gasped, "hallo."

"My name's Feliciano."

"Yeah, I know," Ludwig said stupidly.

Feliciano's eyes opened in awe, glistening in happiness. The smile grew even wider, warming the heart of the German child.

"Really? You know me?"

Ludwig blushed and looked away.

"Yes. Well, I know your name."

"But it's not fair. I want to know your name too."

"Erm…Ludwig."

Feliciano took a seat by the blonde. Ludwig's blush was becoming uncontrollable. He was so glad that his brother couldn't see this, otherwise, Ludwig would never live this down.

"I'm happy to meet you. Can we be friends, Ludwig?"

"Um…sure."

It would seem that Ludwig didn't have to do much at all. Feliciano came to him. He was glad that he finally had him as his friend.

Little did the two know, that a few years from now, both would have to deal with two very overprotective brothers. But that was a story for another time.


	53. Run Away

"That's it! March right into your room and think about what you've done. Come back when you're ready to act like an adult."

Alfred rushed to his bedroom, his father's screams echoing in his head. Tears welled up, but he refused to let them fall. Heroes never cried.

Arthur tried to get Alfred to eat broccoli. The awful smell and ugly sight of the vegetable caused Alfred to throw the plate onto the floor. It shattered into pieces, and that was when Arthur yelled at him. Even though his dad always scold him for little things, Arthur rarely got that angry.

The toddler punched his pillow once. Twice. Pound pound pound! His fists slammed repeatedly on the cushions, and yet Alfred could not stop the tears from falling.

Daddy had been unfair. Alfred was convinced of this. Daddy knew that Alfred hated veggies, but he kept making him eat them. And he always made Alfred sleep when he wasn't tired. And he made Alfred clean his room. And he made Alfred brush his teeth too! Alfred was sick of all these orders.

He would run away. Alfred paused as the thought came to him. He didn't have to live here, with a tyrant father trying to control every aspect of his life. He could leave anytime he wanted to. He would live in a box and get a job at McDonald's. He wouldn't have to go to school or anything. And he could sleep anytime he wanted to!

Alfred grinned, but the smile faded when he thought this through. He would have to leave Mattie behind. But maybe he could visit his brother sometime after he got a place of his own? Or he could send a letter and they could communicate that way?

It was decided. Alfred got up and took out his Superman suitcase, and then began packing. The door opened and Matthew came in.

"Are you ready to…What are you doing, Al?"

Alfred sent a smile his little brother's way.

"I'm going to run away. Don't worry about me, bro."

"Run away? Why?!" Matthew's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, "But you can't. It's dangerous outside without an adult. And how will you make money to buy food and stuff?"

Before Alfred could tell him about his plan to work at McDonald's, the door opened once more. Arthur frowned when he saw the suitcase Alfred was packing, and from the look on his face, Alfred could tell he was putting two and two together.

"Just what do you think of doing, young man?"

Alfred glared at the elder male. Matthew frowned as he glanced back and forward.

"I'm going to run away. So, you can't tell me what to do anymore."

"Oh? Is that so?"

Alfred stubbornly put another shirt in the suitcase. Arthur's glare suddenly crashed when he realized that his son was being serious. With a sigh, the adult in the room leaned forward until he was face to face with Alfred.

The young boy looked away with a pout. He wasn't going to let Daddy's puppy eyes work on him now. But his chin was gently yet firmly tilted until he was looking into Arthur's green eyes.

"Please don't leave me, luv. This family needs our little hero."

The words made Alfred feel good, but he tried to stay angry. Despite his attempts, Alfred no longer felt any ire towards his father.

"I really don't like broccoli."

"Come downstairs. You don't have to eat it. At least, not tonight. Alright?"

Alfred looked at Matthew. His little brother's eyes were pleading, so Alfred looked back at Arthur.

"Okay."

After dinner, Alfred got to eat chocolate ice cream. Maybe it was better to stay at home, after all.


	54. Matt's Hairstyling

"What?" Matthew nearly choked on his drink. It was snack time in Mr. Edelstein's class, and Gilbert just threw a huge curveball Matthew's way. For once, Gilbert wasn't being silly or anything. His blush was red enough to serve as a stoplight and he was doing everything to avoid catching his friend's eye.

"I…that's what she told me. And I thought…if you wore it, then maybe she'll leave me alone."

Now Matthew was starting to turn pink himself. Gilbert had asked him to wear a pink ribbon in his hair. That shocked him to the core. It wasn't that Matthew thought boys wearing girl things was weird, after all, Alfred has been talking about it himself. Matthew just never thought about trying it for himself.

And his hair was too short for a bow anyway.

"I would have to grow my hair out, Gil," he said, addressing his friend with his chosen nickname, "And besides, don't you need a girl to have a girlfriend? You can't fool your grandma by making me wear it."

Gilbert opened his mouth like he really wanted to say something. However, no sound came out and after a while, he closed it with a clanking of teeth.

A young girl from their class came up to them. Laura Coons was full of energy, just like Alfred. Also like Alfred, she adored sweets, especially waffles. But that was all Matthew really knew about Laura, since he was never in her circle of friends.

"Gilbert, are you two talking about bows?"

"Why do you ask?"

It seemed that she and Gilbert knew each other a little. Maybe she could wear Gilbert's bow?

Suddenly, Matthew had an unpleasant feeling in his chest that he could not identify. It felt like…anger. But why would he be angry at that thought. Laura smiled.

"My mamma helps me with my hair all the time, so I know lots about it. You should ask me."

"Ask you to help Matt look pretty."

"Of course!" Laura seemed real excited.

The angry feeling left so that another feeling can take its place, flustered. Matthew blushed once more as the two children practically leered at him.

"Wait…I don't know if I can pull off the look you want, Laura."

The Belgium girl laughed it off with a shrug. Matthew didn't think it was possible, but was there someone out there that was just as carefree as Alfred?

"Don't worry about it. I can make everything look good. Now come here."

Matthew didn't struggle, for fear that they would be upset with him. As much as he didn't like this, he disliked people being angry at him even more. Gilbert decided to help, and his fingers kept roaming through Matthew's hair. This seemed to aggravate the female of the group.

"You're messing it up! Stop touching his hair."

"I'm making it better. The bow should go here," he pointed to a part of Matthew's head.

"No. Here!" Laura cried, pointing at another spot.

"Here!"

"Here!"

"Here!"

"HERE!"

Mr. Edelstein came forward and Matthew nearly cried out when his teacher saw him like this. But Mr. Edelstein didn't seem to mind as much as Matthew did.

"Will you two quiet down? Some children are still asleep."

Snack time was right after nap time, so there was indeed some kids still lying down. Gilbert and Laura decided on a spot. The bow felt weird on his head. It felt even weirder having Gilbert stare at him awkwardly.

"Um…yeah. I guess that will fool my grandma. You look like a girl anyway."

Matthew didn't know if that was meant to be a compliment or just a statement. He took the bow out and they didn't speak of it at all for the rest of the day.


	55. A New Job

Arthur was 16 years old when he got his first job at a café. He wasn't allowed to bake any of the sweets or even make a fruit cup, but he could brew the tea. It paid alright for a first job and Arthur was happy to be able to work at a place he loved.

The only problem was that Francis came in every day now. Shouldn't that guy get a job of his own and stop pestering him? The French blondie winked at him from his table, his espresso no doubt getting cold. Arthur tried to look away, but he knew that Francis was still making weird flirtatious faces at him.

He couldn't take it for long, so Arthur went up to his strange friend.

"Francis," he addressed.

The Frenchman smiled bright.

"Oui? You called me by my first name, mon lapin."

_Only so I didn't get into trouble_, thought Arthur.

"I'm trying to be professional. Why do you come here every day? You're making it hard for me to work!"

"How so?"

Arthur didn't know how to answer. His silence only made Francis' smile grow wider.

"Is it because you can't pay attention to any other customer? Since you're so enchanted with moi?" Francis teased.

There was that stupid blush on his face again. Why did Arthur's cheeks always heat up whenever the frog flirted with him? Even after all these years, he still felt weird when Francis spoke to him like that.

No, it couldn't be because he liked the attention. There must be some other reason behind it.

"Why don't you get your own job, Francis? And leave me alone?"

Francis took in this suggestion thoughtfully, "Alright."

Arthur blinked. Francis was going to give up so easily and get his own job? Just like that? Why did Arthur feel so disappointed?

It couldn't be disappointment he felt. It had to be something else he couldn't explain…right?

Francis left without another word. A few days later, Arthur was told by his employer that they would be getting a new baker soon. It was about time, thought Arthur. After the old one left, they had to have the employer there all the time to make the food. And it was harder to work with him around.

Arthur was told that the baker would be in today and the same time he was. He hoped he was an agreeable sort. Before the café got too busy, Arthur went to the kitchen to introduce himself.

And his jaw fell to the floor.

"What are you doing here?"

Francis feigned shock.

"I should be asking you that, mon lapin. Won't ze customers be waiting to order? You better hurry back to ze counter."

"I didn't mean take this job."

"Well, it's a pleasant surprise, no? Now we can be together all day in school and after school. And on weekends. I'm so glad you made ze suggestion."

Arthur nearly tore his hair out. Curse the damn frog for being this weird.


	56. Zombie Hero

Matthew and Alfred were in their room, with two figurines that they got with their Happy Meals. Matthew's figurine was shaped to be a plant and Alfred's was a cartoonish zombie. Arthur was about to take that zombie away because he thought it was too scary, but Francis stopped him. This was fortunate for Alfred because he really loved the zombie doll.

"I am Dead Man! I'm here to save you from the evil cat ninja," Alfred said in his deepest voice.

"I don't think plants would really be too scared of cat ninjas. What about something that eats plants?"

"Evil deer ninja. Bambi Sensei."

Matthew wondered what he would name his plant figurine. If a zombie could be Dead Man, then his plant could be practically anybody in the world, even the Prime Minister.

"Watch out, plantie! Bambi Sensei is closing in on you. Oh no! He's almost to your leaves. Nom nom nom!" Alfred got a lion doll and made believe it was eating Matthew's precious toy.

Oh no! Mathew gasped, "My plant. Oh no, Cameron!"

Matthew really liked the name Cameron for his plant. Alfred threw the cat away by thrusting Dead Man at it.

"Pow! You're out of here!"

They both faked a cheer. Suddenly, Dead Man came closer to Cameron.

"Okay, plantie. I save you. Now you need to pay up."

What was Alfred getting at? Matthew frowned and gave his brother a questioning look. He decided to keep playing the game.

"Pay? I thought heroes don't ask for payment."

Dead Man jumped in the air.

"I lied. I'm not a hero. I'm really a zombie! Dun dun dun!"

"Wow…I don't know if that's as much as a plot twist as you make it out to be, Al?" he told his brother a bit teasingly.

"Of course it is. It's the most awesome plot twist ever. The hero was a monster the whole time! Who would have seen that coming? But don't worry, plantie-"

"His name's Cameron," Matthew explained but Alfred didn't seemed fazed. The elder twin brought the lion doll back up again.

"I'll save you, plantie. I am Bambi Sensei."


	57. Betrayal

The blonde Britain was tired when he finally got home. He was happy to see Matthew come up and give him a big hug. Working late was no good, but coming to warm hugs made it all worth it.

"Good evening, Daddy."

"Why, thank you, Matthew. Where's your papa?"

"He's in the kitchen."

Arthur thanked his son and left. Francis fed the family already, but he always saved some for Arthur, and somehow made it as hot and fresh as ever. Francis would shoot himself to the moon sooner than give his husband subpar food.

The editor's face was met with a bouquet of roses. Francis held the flowers in his hands, motioning Arthur to take them. They had always been both men's favorite flower of all time.

As romantic as Francis was, the French cook didn't normally give Arthur presents like these.

"Uh…thank you. What's the occasion?"

There was a nervous look on Francis's face. He covered it up with a smile and a deep, smooth chuckle.

"I just wanted to thank you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the response.

"For what?"

There was that nervous look again. Francis laughed sheepishly and placed a hand behind his own head. What the devil was he hiding?

"For being the best husband money can buy."

"You didn't buy me, you wanker!" Arthur felt insulted, "Now tell me the real reason. What did you do?"

Here was the heart of the matter. Francis did something that he felt guilty about, so now he was trying to redeem himself. The French man bit his lip and averted his gaze.

"Well…um…today there was this woman."

Wait. Where on earth was this going? Arthur felt his heart clenched in horror as he thought all the possibilities in his mind.

"And well…she…I was very hungry at lunch time and I forgot to pack myself something. And…I was curious…"

The conversation took an unexpected turn. All of Arthur's initial theories went out the door when he heard about lunch. What did Francis do?

"I want you to know, that I love you with all my heart-"

"Just tell me what you did."

"Well…she was selling scones."

That was all Arthur needed to hear. He knew treachery when he heard it. Scones? Did his husband really eat someone else's scones? That was the one thing Arthur was allowed to make, and he prided himself on being the only one who made them for Francis.

So, that was how it was going to be, huh? This meant war.

Arthur shoved the roses back into Francis' hands and walked away.

"Wait. Where are you going, mon cher?"

"I'm going out to eat. And it will be French food."

"No! I'm the only one to make you French food."

"I hope that scone was worth it!"

"NO!"

Meanwhile, Alfred was in his room, playing video games. He heard the commotion and gave a mental cheer.

"Every time they fight, Papa buys Daddy chocolates! The old man better share."


	58. Skipping Grades part 1

A/N: Anyone who knows British terms, is it first grade? Or do they just say Year 1? Anyway, be prepared. This chapter ends in a cliffhanger.

* * *

"Williams. I need to talk to you before you go to break."

Matthew felt his heart chill to zero degrees. The anxiety that was brought by his teacher's words was so intense that it hurt. Mr. Edelstein didn't normally speak with somebody during play time unless they were in trouble. Gilbert had spent a lot of time getting lectured by the Austrian teacher.

Said German boy glanced at him in concern. Matthew swallowed as the rest of the kids went outside, most of them looking at the goody-two-shoes in curiosity.

What did he do? Matthew couldn't think of a single thing that he might have done wrong. The boy came up to his teacher. He didn't realize he was trembling until Mr. Edelstein placed a hand on his head to stop him.

"Calm down. This is good news."

The heavy weight in Matthew's chest left in a flash. He still had no idea what Mr. Edelstein was about to tell him, but at least he knew he wasn't in trouble. The teacher grabbed some files and looked them over.

"You've been getting straight A's ever since you got here. You've also shown that your reading level is improving at a marvelous pace."

Matthew tilted his head. Where was this going? Mr. Edelstein continued.

"You also know your numbers really vell too. Vat I'm getting at, Williams, is this. Maybe ve should seriously consider you going to year one."

Wait. Did he mean what Matthew thought he meant? The boy felt his hopes soar.

"You mean…now?"

"Vell. Yes. I vill speak to your fathers and see vat they think. It's not guaranteed that you'll be skipping a grade, but it does seem like a possibility."

Matthew did a very un-Matthew like thing. He jumped in joy with a squeal of happiness. He ceased once he realized what he was doing. Mr. Edelstein didn't seem to care, in fact, he was smiling.

"Vell. Go on to break."

Matthew left with a quick thank-you. He just had to tell Gilbert the good news. He found the German boy in the sandbox. The excited child joined his friend, and Gilbert clearly caught hint of Matthew's zeal.

"Vat's going on?"

The other boy giggled as he scooped up some dirt. He wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. He was just so excited that he had to do something with his hands, so he resorted to digging a random hole. Gilbert was going to be so happy for him.

"You won't believe what happened. I might go to year one!"

Instead of getting excited, all Gilbert did was blink in confusion, as if he didn't know why Matthew thought this was good news.

"I vould hope so. Even I plan on going to year one."

The other child realized now why Gilbert was so confused. He shook his head with a smile.

"No, I mean I might go right away. I might skip a year, Gilbert!"

The silver haired boy's eyes grew wide in realization. Matthew waited for a congratulations from his shocked friend. But he got a completely different response instead.

"Vhy are you so happy?"

Matthew stared in shock. This was the absolute last reaction he had expected.

"What do you mean, Gil?"

Gilbert looked away with a pout to avoid looking at Matthew's hurt look.

"It's not that good news. Do you really vant to leave that much? Then go. No one will miss you."

It was by far the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to him. Matthew's eyes welled up in tears. The red head shot up and ran away, because he didn't want Gilbert to see him crying.

What happened? Was Gilbert jealous of his success? Matthew thought he was his friend. Was Gilbert only pretending to like him?

It hurt. It really hurt.

**TBC**


	59. Skipping Grades part 2

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who informed me of the proper English term. I'll make a change in the last chapter so that it's Year one.**

* * *

Arthur petted his little boy's back as he sobbed into his shirt. Francis came up, looking shocked that Matthew was so upset.

"What happened, chaton? I heard about you going to Year 1. Why are you so sad?"

Being reminded of his day only made Matthew cry harder. Arthur squeezed him into a hug, rubbing soothing circles on his back with a sad smile on his face.

"It was Gilbert. He made him upset," Arthur stated. Francis arched an eyebrow.

"No need to sound so cheerful about that."

"Of course I'm not!" Arthur defended himself loudly, "But I've know from day one that boy was not to be trusted. Don't worry, Matt. I'll be your friend."

Francis frowned when he saw that his husband was in overprotective mommy mode. Arthur wouldn't be the best thing for Matthew right now. It was clear that he had a fight with Gilbert, and Arthur would only make things worse.

The French man brought a hand on Matthew's head. The child quietened and looked up at his papa.

"Tell me what happened."

After Matthew re-told the story, Francis had a much different response than Arthur.

"Oh. I wonder if he really was jealous…" he mused out loud.

Arthur spoke before Matthew could respond, clearly angry that his husband was defending Gilbert.

"Of course he was. I knew that boy was trouble! I don't ever want you to play with him again."

Francis sent a rare glare Arthur's way, making the Britain realize that he had said something wrong. Arthur was rarely the one being scolded at, but he knew better than to argue with Francis when the Frenchman disapproved.

"Honey, let me talk to Matthew alone."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but the look Francis shot him made him think better of it. Arthur petted Matthew once more and put him down, leaving the room shortly after. Matthew stared up at his papa.

"Matthew. Do you think Gilbert will miss you?"

The boy stared at him in shock, like he hadn't thought of it before.

"Huh?"

"Well. I think Gilbert really, really likes you. He might feel bad that you leave. Maybe that's why he said it."

Matthew averted his gaze with a sniff. Francis smiled and petted his son's head.

"It will be fine. Talk to him tomorrow, alright?"

The next day came too soon. Matthew was scared that he had to initiate contact so soon after a fight. The boy was about to approach his friend that morning when Gilbert decided to make the first move.

"Matvey. I'm…" Gilbert trailed off. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't want to at the same time.

Matthew stared at his silver haired friend.

"Will you miss me if I skip a grade?"

Was that a blush on Gilbert's face? Looking at it made Matthew's own face heat up. Without a verbal answer, Gilbert nodded. Matthew smiled.

"Okay. I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to do that," Gilbert protested.

Matthew shook his head.

"Don't worry. I rather be in school with you. You make everyday fun."

"I'm sorry. I meant to tell you that."

"I forgive you."


	60. Alfred's Date part 1

Seventeen year old Alfred knew he couldn't tell his father the big news, but someone in the family had to know. This news was too good to keep to himself. So, naturally, he went to his baby brother. Matthew was petting Kumajirou while sitting in an armchair and reading a book with his free hand. The cat has certainly grown, but still had a lot of energy, once he decided not to nap. It was like the feline barely aged at all.

"Yo bro. Got a minute?"

Matthew put his book down.

"Sure. What is it?"

Alfred placed a hand behind his head.

"Okay, don't tell Dad."

"Oh no, what did you do?"

"It's nothing like that. You see. Ivan and I are going on a date."

"Really? That's wonderful. I can see why you didn't want to tell Dad. He's still trying to get me to break it off with Gilbert."

If it wasn't for their papa, they probably wouldn't even been allowed to date until they were well in their forties. Alfred laughed sheepishly.

"So, if he asks. Tell him I'm at work."

Matthew arched an eyebrow.

"You want me to lie for you?"

"Not exactly. I technically will be at work. Just eating there instead of working."

This caused Matthew to crack up laughing. Kumajirou was startled awake, stretched himself and left Matthew's lap. Alfred's brother didn't seem to notice.

"You're going to eat at McDonald's? That's going to be your first date?"

"Hey, you got a problem with Macky D's?"

Matthew raised his arms and shook his head with a smile.

"I would just find it funny that you're going to a fast food place for a romantic evening."

"What's this about a romantic evening?" their father's voice demanded.

The boys jumped up when their fathers came inside the room, Arthur looking sour and Francis smiling. Francis turned to Alfred.

"Did you finally ask Ivan out?" he chuckled.

Alfred shook his head, "Nope. He asked me."

"Surely, you jest! Ivan has always been so shy. I wouldn't zink him the type."

Arthur wasn't about to be left out of this conversation. He glared at his older son, who smiled guiltily. Alfred braced himself for the questions.

"I knew he only wanted to be your friend for that reason. Why do you encourage him? What do you plan on wearing? How late will you be out? What will convince you to not go through with this?"

Alfred sighed. In all honesty, this was a much better response than what he had been expecting. At least Arthur wasn't downright telling him no. Not that it would do him any good anyway.

"Ivan is cool, Dad. I'll encourage him if I want. I'm just gonna put on a shirt and trousers. It's not like I plan on pimping out or anything. I won't go past curfew, promise. And the answer to your last question: nothing."

Francis let out a laugh, "Well at least that wasn't the answer to the second question, right amour?"

Arthur gave Alfred a look.

"Please be back at 6."

"But my curfew's-"

"I don't care. I had your brother do the same thing!" Arthur stated.

Matthew sighed and crossed his arms, "Gilbert didn't appreciate that."

Francis grabbed Arthur's shoulder and pulled him back. The blonde Britain didn't look ready to give up the fight, but Francis made it obvious he knew best.

"We'll stay out of your way. Won't we, cher?"

Arthur glowered at his husband, but didn't say anything. Alfred and Matthew let out a laugh.


	61. Alfred's Date part 2

Francis had dealt with many things growing up with Arthur, but this was probably on the top ten most ridiculous. Arthur wanted to spy on his son's date, even though Francis had given him a stern talking to when he spied on Gilbert and Matthew. Only this time, Arthur wanted Francis to come with him. Francis had known from the beginning that Arthur would be an overprotective daddy, and yet no amount of dread would have prepared him for today.

The two sat in the back, careful not to be seen. Arthur looked past the potted plant to where Alfred and Ivan were sitting. They were close enough to hear what they were saying. They were also close enough to be spotted if they were careless, but fortunately for them, the two lovebirds were too focused on each other to notice them.

"So, Dad found out. Sorry. I tried not to tell him. The old man really needs to loosen up."

Arthur growled at being called old man. Alfred had started that title at age twelve, and Arthur was still insulted every time he used it. Ivan and Alfred looked around like they heard something. Francis covered Arthur's mouth and pulled him away, leaning into his ear.

"If you're going to drag me into this, at least don't get us caught."

The teenagers decided that they were imagining things and went back to their conversation.

"I wish I could've taken you to sit down restaurant. I would think you would be tired of this food."

Alfred waved away Ivan's concerns.

"No way. Sit down restaurant burgers are nice, but McDonald's do 'em best."

"You can always order something else?"

"What? Like a salad? Pshh. No thanks," Alfred laughed. Ivan joined in.

Francis whispered, "See? They're fine together. Now can we go? I want to take you someplace."

Arthur felt his face flush. He did get to enjoy a lot more alone time with Francis nowadays, but he was on a mission and he wouldn't be deterred.

"Not now. I need to know if they plan on anything funny after this."

Francis smirked, "Funny? You mean like watching romance comedies?"

"…That joke was terrible, Francis."

"Oh, lapin," Francis mocked a pout, "How you wound me."

Alfred's head poked through the plant, startling both his parents.

"What are you two doing here?"

The two adults sat there with a guilty look. Alfred was glaring, while Ivan stared at them in shock. Arthur felt small under his son's heated look.

"We were…um…having a date," Arthur lied.

Alfred pouted, much like he did when he was five.

"You guys were spying on us. Come on, Dad. We're not doing anything wrong."

"Nice to see you, Mr. Kirkland," Ivan greeted with a soft smile.

Arthur was in front of Ivan in an instant. He was pointing an accusing finger at him.

"Don't think I'm not onto you. I know what you really want."

"Oh? What's that?"

Arthur paused, "I can't say in this public establishment."

Alfred took hold of Ivan's arm.

"Okay Dad. We're going now. Ivan and I will be back at 8."

"No. You're supposed to be back at 6."

Alfred gave Francis a pleading look. Francis sighed and thought up a lie.

"You know, mon lapin. I zink that Matthew and Gilbert are dating too."

"What? Francis, keep an eye on Alfred!"

With that, Arthur rushed out the door, leaving a relieved Alfred behind. Alfred smiled happily at his papa, a silent thank you.


	62. Monster

It took him a moment to realize that he was awake. That there wasn't really a skeleton with a chainsaw in front of him. But Matthew still looked around the room anyway, using the nightlight to see.

That had been a scary movie that Alfred had insisted on watching. Ironically, it was Matthew who was more affected it seemed, for Alfred was still fast asleep. Matthew layed his head back down on the pillow and tried to drift back into slumber.

Did he hear something just now? Matthew raised himself back up and glanced around the room with all the alertness of a squirrel sensing danger. He knew he heard something.

Matthew rarely considered himself younger than Alfred, but right now he wanted nothing more but to find comfort in his big brother's arms. Alfred would never let him forget it if he admit he was scared, however.

There were light footsteps coming from just outside the door. It had to be Papa or Daddy, right? But what would they be doing up so late? A lump of dread fell inside Matthew's heart. What if it was a burglar?

It was impossible to sleep now. Matthew got out of bed and crept closer to the door. He took out his hockey stick from the closet, just in case he needed it. He hoped he wouldn't.

Matthew slowly opened the door…

And nearly shut it in fear. There was a monster out there, one that had a blue face. He trembled on his knees as the thing made a gurgling sound.

Matthew was careful to shut the door quietly, then he rushed to Alfred's bed, dropping his stick in the process.

"Wake up, Al. Please."

His brother was brought out of his slumber, eyes fluttering open in confusion. They glanced curiously at Matthew. Alfred rubbed his eyes.

"What…is it, Mattie? I was sleeping."

For once, Matthew didn't apologize. He was too scared to remember to do that. When Alfred saw how shaken Matthew was, he sat up and got his glasses from the stand. Matthew grabbed his too.

"There's a monster out there."

Alfred blinked. There was a fearful look on his face, then he brushed it off with a smile.

"Nice try."

Matthew bit his lip to keep from yelling.

"I'm serious. I saw it out there. Just now."

The older twin gave him a serious look, then shook his head. He was no longer smiling.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

"I saw him just now."

"Without your glasses? Maybe you saw something else?"

"Then you look," Matthew said, angry that Alfred didn't believe him.

Alfred's face went pale, then he stood up and walked toward the door. Matthew followed close behind in case he needed help. It was no good to face the monster alone. Alfred opened the door, looked out and closed it again.

"That is a monster," he whispered in terror.

"I told you."

"What are we going to do?"

Matthew hugged tightly onto his brother. They would get through this together. If they could figure out how to reach their daddies, then-

The door opened once more, and Alfred wasn't the one doing it. The twins stared as the monster took a long look, then the boys screamed. Alfred was almost crying.

"Mon chers! What are you doing up?"

The boys stopped wailing immediately. That was Papa's voice. Matthew took a moment to inspect the 'monster' more closely. It really was Papa. He just had some weird curlers in his hair and some strange stuff on his face.

Shakily, Matthew grabbed Francis's leg and hugged it, while Alfred grabbed the other one. They began sobbing.

Apparently, the slightest noise of sadness from his sons brought Arthur running from a mile away. The footsteps rushed in and Arthur came forward. He nearly fell over when he saw Francis.

"Ah! Monster!"

Francis pouted with his hands on his hips.

"Well that's a fine good morning, isn't it?"


	63. Good Tastes

It wasn't good to own a cat if you were easily annoyed, as Arthur found out the hard way. Even though it was Matthew's cat, Kuma was accepted by the entire family. Except for Arthur.

And why should he accept that _thing_? The furry scamp was _trying_ to get on his nerves! Arthur got him a scratch post, then came back to see his nice couch completely torn up. The scratch post, however, wasn't even touched. Whenever Arthur had a basket of dirty laundry, Kuma would take a stray sock and gnaw on it until it couldn't be saved. When Arthur had a basket of clean laundry, Kuma would use the neatly stacked clothing as a bed for himself.

The demon cat also chewed books. Arthur nearly killed Kuma after he got his dirty claws on Virginia Wolfe. If Francis hadn't been there to calm him down, Matthew would be the proud owner of a dead cat by now. His son really wanted them to get along, but if Kuma wasn't willing to change, then Arthur wasn't willing to like him. Francis had scold his husband.

"You're the human here. Kuma doesn't know any better."

Matthew had come up with Kuma in his arms.

"Maybe you could pet him?"

Arthur had reached his hand in order to make Matthew happy, but the cursed feline bit him once his hand got too close. Arthur swore in front of Matthew, and later explained to his son why bad words were bad.

Matthew was getting more depressed as the fights were getting more frequent. Francis had enough. He took both his sons and walked out the door.

"I'll take them to eat. You two better be friends by the time we get back."

Arthur stubbornly crossed his arms and glared at the cat. If it wasn't for Kuma, Francis wouldn't be angry with him right now.

When the rest of the family left, Arthur decided to get himself some lunch as well. A sausage and jelly sandwich sounded really good right now. He would make some chips with it too. Arthur proceeded to make the food, luckily not setting a fire once.

As he munched, the stupid cat jumped on his dining table. He glowered at it. Kuma knew better, so why did he keep jumping on the furniture? Arthur really wanted to scold him, but if he continued to fight with him, Matthew would be upset. Arthur didn't want his son upset.

But there was nothing he and the cat agreed on.

Kuma sniffed at the meal, and Arthur expected him to turn his nose away in disgust like everyone else did with his cooking. Instead, Kuma grabbed a stray chip and munched on it. Arthur shot out of his seat and Kuma crouched down in terror, certain he was going to get a scolding for stealing food.

But Arthur was too shocked to move, so Kuma munched on the rest of the food. Meanwhile, Arthur felt his heartstrings stir. Someone in the family actually enjoyed his cooking.

Arthur smiled at Kuma, the first smile he ever gave the cat. Who knew that the feline had such good tastes? Maybe they could get along, after all.


	64. Pocky

Francis didn't believe in going to only one store for all your groceries. To him, there was a place to get your meats, a place to get your produce, and a place to get your dairy products. And you never, ever bought premade bread; you made that yourself.

This philosophy was something that Francis always lived by. However, he just found out that Arthur tried cooking (without his permission!) and wasted all the ingredients meant for their meal. So now they were all at a grocery store. Matthew and Alfred were sitting in the cart, looking around at the store in wonder. Alfred kept pointing to stuff he wanted.

"Can we get cereal?"

Francis frowned. Alfred was pointing at a box of so-called 'cereal' that was nothing but sugar. Arthur smiled at his son, then turned to Francis.

"Why don't we let the boys each pick out a box?"

Francis gave Arthur a disbelieving look. Ever since that cat started eating his food, Arthur had been a lot less strict and in a lot better mood. Francis was happy about this, but now it was up to him to be the mean father, at least until Arthur snapped out of his happy daze and returned to normal.

It wasn't acceptable to feed his family fake food made by machines. Francis felt like he would be the worst parent in the world if he allowed that.

"Non. We're just getting what we need tonight."

Alfred pouted at him, but Francis kept his eyes on the food. Some lettuce, tomato, berries for the vinaigrette….

This time, it was Matthew who spotted something.

"Maple syrup?" his smile was as wide as honey was sweet.

Francis really frowned now. Matthew didn't ask for a lot, so seeing him get excited for something was really saying something. Francis occasionally made pancakes, which Matthew loved extremely, but they didn't get syrup too often. He inwardly sighed.

"I suppose you can each get one zing."

Alfred bounced up and down in his seat. Matthew already decided on the syrup, so Francis took it and gave it for him to hold. The Frenchman couldn't help but smile at how happy his sons were. Matthew was practically coddling the bottle! How cute.

Alfred decided on chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips inside. Francis nearly shuddered thinking how hyper Alfred would be once he ingested all that sugar. But even then, Arthur didn't seem too bothered by it. Arthur grabbed something off the shelf and stared at it curiously.

"I wonder what these are."

Alfred glanced up at them.

"I know! They're pocky. Kiku brought some to school one time."

Arthur seemed fascinated by what looked to Francis just simple breadsticks with sugar.

"They look like a great treat for tea time."

Suddenly, Francis had a thought and he blushed. Even though they were clearly made by machines, he wouldn't mind sharing one of those with Arthur. And it would be so wonderful to reach the middle.

Now, Arthur was giving him a suspicious look.

"What are you thinking?"

Francis chuckled, not-so-innocently. Maybe he should go get groceries with his family more often.


	65. Alfred's Punishment

"Hello?" Arthur asked when the school called. He already had their number on his contact list, so he knew even before he answered that they were the ones who called.

"Mr. Bonnefoy?" Miss Héderváry's voice said.

"Um…Mr. Kirkland, actually."

"I'm sorry. But it's about Alfred."

"What did he do?"

Later that night, Arthur put Alfred securely in time-out, waiting for the pouting boy to explain his actions. Of all the trouble Alfred had ever been in, this was the worst. Arthur was practically fuming, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Well, poppet? Are you going to tell me why you decided to get into a fight?"

The stubborn child shook his head. Francis and Matthew came to the living room. Or rather, Matthew rushed to the room and Francis followed.

"Daddy, it wasn't his fault! It was mine!"

"No, it wasn't!" Alfred cried.

But Matthew wouldn't be deterred. He looked more guilty than usual.

"I told him that…" he stalled and looked at his feet.

Arthur glanced at Alfred and noted that his elder son was bouncing in his seat impatiently. His blue eyes were hard.

"He didn't do anything. He's lying!"

Francis replied, "Enough of that. Let your brother talk, Alfred."

The order caused Alfred to pout, but fortunately, he obeyed. The parents turned back to their younger son, who had by this point gathered up his courage.

"I told Alfred that someone was picking on me in hockey class. I didn't know he was in Alfred's class, honest. I didn't think they were going to fight."

Arthur gasped in shock. He knew bullying was all too common, but he never once thought that his sons would fall victim to it.

And Alfred was defending his brother? How sweet. Arthur knew that he had been raising the boy right. Francis looked just as distraught as Arthur felt.

"What did this boy say to you?"

Matthew took a seat on the couch right beside Alfred. The elder twin put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"He called me a show-off. He said I was a freak for being so good at skating."

Matthew's eyes were close to tears, so Francis soothed him by petting his hair. Arthur bent down to embrace his younger son.

"It will be fine. He was just jealous. I'm sure your skating far surpasses his, so he takes his frustrations out on you."

Francis added, "But of course. Both our sons are very talented. They'll be tormented by ze jealous quite a lot. So try to learn not to fight, Alfred. It's much too vicious. And it's never okay to hit, no matter how angry you are."

Alfred took in this information somewhat reluctantly. He was sure that anyone who made Matthew sad deserved to be hit. But he would listen, because he didn't want his teacher to get mad at him again.

Arthur turned back in his direction.

"Stay in time-out until I tell you otherwise."

"You're so harsh, Arthur," Francis said.

"He needs to learn, dear. Now let me handle this."

Francis's lips suddenly puckered up to kiss him.

"Oh, you rarely give me such terms of endearment. Kiss me."

"Not now! Take Matthew away for a while. I need to talk to Alfred alone."

The young boys looked at each other. Matthew was hesitantly pulled away from Alfred. The elder sibling pouted up at his father once they were alone.

"Alfred. You know you have to be punished when you do something bad."

"I know."

"So I'm giving you ice cream."

Alfred's head shot up in surprise. Arthur went toward the kitchen, but paused for a moment and turned back.

"Don't tell papa. Or we'll both be punished."


	66. Arthur's First Heartbreak

It was a beautiful day that Sunday after noon when Arthur approached his boyfriend. To most people, it was just an ordinary cedar tree in the middle of the park. But to Arthur Kirkland, he was Trent, the spirit of the trees.

The 11 year old had a plastic cup filled with water. He sprinkled it on the ground where he imagined the roots were ingrained. Then he took out his lunch, a sandwich he had stuffed with peppers, cheese, cow's tongue, jam, turkey and chocolate syrup. The young boy held up his cooking masterpiece to show to Trent.

"What's all this then?" Trent asked in a British voice. Arthur liked to imagine that his first boyfriend would be from the same place as him.

Arthur smiled, "I thought we could have a date."

"A date?"

Arthur nodded, "Francis told me that some people ate together on a date. And since you're my new boyfriend, I thought I'd give it a try."

"I see..." Trent sounded unsure.

Arthur frowned, "What's wrong? Don't you wanna date me? You like me, right?"

"Of course I do, Arthur. You're the only human child that ever talks to me. Still, I've been thinking about what we've talked about yesterday."

"You mean when we decided to become boyfriends?" Arthur blushed at the memory. It had been a pretty day then too.

"Sit down, Arthur."

The confused boy did as he said. He absentmindedly started pulling at the grass. Trent didn't mind since grass wasn't sentient, only trees and flowers.

Arthur waited for him to say something, but the silence stretched on for too long. Curious green eyes stared at Trent.

Finally, the tree spoke, "I'm sorry that I ever agreed to be your boyfriend."

A pang of hurt stabbed through Arthur's chest. Trent realized the harshness of his words, and immediately went to rectify what he said.

"I mean...I'm no good for you. You need to be with a person. And I am just a tree."

Arthur wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He refused to cry.

"...You're breaking up with me?"

"Look at me, Arthur."

The boy hesitated, fearful that if he did, he wouldn't be able to be angry at Trent. And he wanted to be mad at the tree. Here he was trying to have a nice date, and his boyfriend was breaking up with him.

Eventually he could take it no longer. He did as he was told. The ever patient tree rustled his leaves affectionately, as if he wanted to reach out to Arthur and pet him.

"I am just a tree."

"But I love you."

"And I you," Trent said, "But it isn't enough. You need someone that can hug you. Someone that can kiss you. And someone that can walk with you to the altar. I am not able to do any of that. I was selfish to have agreed to be your boyfriend. And for that I am sorry."

Angry tears began spiling from Arthur's eyes. He shot up and pointed an accusing finger at Trent.

"You said you would be my boyfriend."

"I was wrong."

"You're a liar."

There was a pause. Then Trent finally answered.

"I'm sorry."

The leaves stopped rustling. The face on the tree disappeared until it looked like an ordinary plant. Arthur stared at it for a long time, willing it to come back as Trent once more.

"Trent?"

There was no response. The boy cried all the way home.

The next day there was a knock at the door. His mother called from outside.

"Francis is here to see you."

Arthur kept his face smothered against the pillow. He had been worried about this. It had only been a matter of time before he showed up.

The French boy had a rose in his hand. Francis had gotten into the habit of picking them from his parents' garden and tearing off their thorns. According to Francis, a beautiful flower shouldn't be near anything sharp, or else it might get hurt.

Francis edged the rose closer to Arthur's face. The Britain stubbornly pulled away. Francis sat next to him on the bed.

"What do you want?"

"Your mother told me you've been crying all day."

"What do you care?"

"Of course I care about you, mon ami. I am your friend. And I hate to see you cry."

Arthur turned to glare at him, but the hard look fell when he saw Francis's face. The long haired boy was concerned for him. He didn't have his normal flirtatious smile. Instead, he looked almost as close to tears as Arthur was.

Arthur swallowed thickly. Did Francis really care about him that much?

Drawn by his friend's concerned look, Arthur buried his head into Francis's shoulder. The other boy brushed his fingers against his locks. No words were needed.  
Francis hugged Arthur until the boy cheered up. Later that night, Arthur finally figured out what Trent had meant before.


End file.

Hetalia - Axis Powers, Family, Humor