Tame Me: Prucan

Eighteen

"Matthew, I have bad news..." Arthur sat his son down in his bedroom, sombre look in his lowered eyes.
"What is it?" Matthew prepared himself for disappointment. His hockey couch had retired. There was no maple syrup left at the grocery store. Kuma was pregnant again.
"We won't be able to make it to Nova Scotia for Christmas."
That one...it was worse than anything he could have expected. No Gil on Christmas?!
"I'm sorry."
"B-but..."
"Matthew, you'll just have to wait a little longer."
Matthew pursed his lips. "But..."
"If it's true love...waiting will be worth it." He pat his son on the back softly. The Canadian gave a small nod.
"There's always phone calls." He whispered.
"That's my boy. You can do this." The two males hugged.

Arthur's POV:
It was late in December when Francis got the flu. Matthew ended up doing most of the cooking and even stayed home from school on a few days. Arthur felt helpless, unable to give Francis everything he needed.
But there was one thing Arthur could easily give.
Matthew could offer cuddles all he wanted, but Arthur knew his were the ones Francis wanted the most.
On the last day of Francis's bug the Brit was lying next to his husband on the couch, warm French breath grazing the back of his neck and a single arm crossing his body like the bar on a roller coaster.
He heard shuffling on the stairs and muffled chatter. This wasn't the kind of speech the twins had...If it was them he would have heard Alfred yelling.
He opened his eyes just in time to see Peter and Matthew enter the kitchen as quietly as they could.
From what Arthur could hear, Matthew was teaching Peter to cook. The Brit let his face mellow into a smile.
"Mon cher, are you awake?"
Arthur turned his head so he could get a better look at his life partner.
"Yeah."
"What are zhey doing in zhere?"
"I think Matthew's teaching Peter to cook."
"Zhat's adorable." Francis cooed. "'opefully Peter doesn't take after you." The cockiness that had disappeared during his sickness was back. Arthur wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad one.
"They've gotten so close lately."
"Oui. I zhink zhat's your doing."
"No...It...It was..."
"Arzhur's getting fluuuuusteeeerrrred~" Francis teased, kissing him on the cheek.
"I liked you better when you were dying." Arthur growled.
"Did you marry me when I was sick?"
"No."
"Zhen you are lying, mon amour."
Arthur scowled and narrowed his eyes. He only received another kiss as a result, this time on the lips.
"I'm not lying. I really do hate your guts."
"No you don't." Francis pulled Arthur closer to him. "You love me."
The blonde sighed. "I do..."
"Oui! Now let's make sure Peter doesn't burn zhe 'ouse down."
"Can't Matthew do that?"
"Oui. But-"
"Please stay." Arthur choked out suddenly. He heard a surprised exhale from the Frenchman before he caught himself. "You're just warm..."
"Yeah. Zhat's zhe reason."
"I just..."
"You know, we've been married for almost twenty years now." Francis squirmed until he was on top of Arthur.
"Really, because it feels like we've been together forever."
"Awwww~"
"Because time goes so slowly when you're stuck with a total scrub."
"Not cool!" Francis whined, his bottom lip sticking out. Arthur smirked and nipped it carefully before he started to sing.
"I don't want no scrubs. A scrub is a guy that can't get enough from me. Hanging out the passenger side of his best friends ride. Tryin' ta holla at me-ee."
"You are a total ass'ole, mon amour." Francis kissed him, tongue instantly slipping into his mouth. Arthur moaned softly.
"Ew. No PDA guys. Geez." Alfred was standing on the bottom of the stairs, a grossed out look on his face.
"We can do whatever we want in zhis 'ouse. We own it."
"Yeah, but I live here, so screw off." Alfred growled.
"Looks like somebody needs tampons." Francis whispered to Arthur who chuckled.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"
"Go 'elp your brozhers in zhe kitchen." Francis shooed the teen, going back to giving Arthur small kisses.
The Brit heard a grunt and footsteps stomping off into the next room.
"Arzhur..." Francis lowered himself down onto Arthur, placing his head in between his neck and shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"We 'ave zhe perfect family:" the francophone whispered.
"Yeah." Arthur agreed. "We do."'

Guess who got online heh! Hopefully this will keep up during the week!