FrUK: From The Start

Part Eight

After that night, Matthew's crying got worse. The couple consulted doctors about it but they were told it was just a phase. That he would grow out of it.
They tried so hard to bring back the passion and fire between them before becoming parents. But it was hard to get in the mood when your youngest child was screaming in the next room.
It got to the point of Francis giving up on the cribs and letting the twins sleep in their bed with the parents. He had read that it was actually healthier for babies to sleep with their parents and that sleeping alone was only a social norm.
It actually worked well for their nerves.
But not their sex lives.
More time passed and soon the twins were on their feet, meaning they were now two times the handful. Francis chased them around the house, squealing gleefully as if he two were merely a tall toddler.
Alfred was the first to talk. He let out a loud "more!" While Arthur was trying to feed him.
The Brit smiled softly and pat his son's head. Francis squealed.
Matthew's first word was "papa," said when he and Francis we're playing on the floor while Alfred napped in Arthur's arms.
The way Francis's eyes lit up reminded Arthur of why he was in love with the man.
It had been almost two years since they had had sex. Arthur planned to change that.
"Where are you going, mon cher?"
"I'm calling Gilbert."
"Why?"
"He wanted to babysit, didn't he?"
Francis smiled softly. "I'm assuming you want moi to make zhe date plans?"
"Yeah. That would be nice." Arthur couldn't plan a date for shit.
He called the German who promised to be over in only a few minutes.
"I booked zhe 'otel but I don't zhink I can find a restaurant zhis last minute." Francis announced when Arthur walked back into the room.
"Then get creative. It's not like we're going out just for the dinner."
Francis smirked suggestively. "Non. You're right. Zhe dessert is zhe real treat.~"
"Stop that." Arthur blushed.
Francis giggled. "I'll zhink of somezhing."
Matthew waddled over and dropped onto his chest, giggling as Francis booped his tiny button nose.
"First night without papa, huh Matthieu?"
The baby tilted his head, letting out a small whimper.
"Oh, mon fils."
Alfred opened his eyes letting out a whine. Arthur rocked him softly but his whine turned into a cry.
The Brit sighed and set the older twin on top of his husband. "Hold him. I think he's hungry."
"'E's always 'ungry."
"I'll get the formula."
"Get some for Matthieu too. He looks famished."
"If he were hungry he would have cried."
"Matthieu doesn't like to cry."
"Not unless we're trying to get it on, apparently."
Francis chuckled and pet the heads of both his sons.
"Papa!" Matthew cooed.
The doorbell rang out at that point. Francis lifted both boys into his arms and walked to the door while Arthur went off to get formula.
When he came back, he found his husband chatting away with his friend cheerfully.
"I dunno...I zhink Matthew vould be more of a beer drinker like me."
"Are you kidding moi? Matthieu is my flesh and blood. 'E would be a wine drinker."
"No vay."
"Can we at least agree zhat Alfred would drink whiskey?"
"Nein. He drinks beer to. But not good Beer. Zhe shitty American stuff."
"Gilbert, the boys are just learning to talk. Please don't teach them bad words."
"Aw, Artie jour no fun." Gil pouted.
"I'm serious."
"Fine. I'll behave. Jou two, however, be as naughty as jou vant."
"Gilbert!"
"It's not illegal if jou don't get caught. Remember zhat."
Arthur sighed softly. "Let's get going, frog."
"Oui. Coming." Francis kissed each boy on the head (with the exception of Gil) and took Arthur's hand.
The two exited the house, hopeful of their night out.