FrUK: From The Start

Part Thirty Three

Yo guys, it's time to pay me back for the amazing fanfics I write you. I need a reference letter for a scholarship that I probably won't get because I'm not smart enough but it's worth a shot. Y'all have to reference my social/personal commitment for the "Karthiha Guruparan and Bill Winsor scholarship"
Just talk about how I post my fanfics every day and always reply to your comments and support you guys when you message me etc. Just whatever you can do to make me look super momish and witty and shit.
But don't mention the smut. For the love of god don't mention the smut.

Francis didn't end up waking until noon that day. When he did it was to roll off the couch onto a pile of Peter's toys, left behind from the day before. The Frenchman swore, wincing at himself out of habit. Having so many kids around did that to a man.
He walked into the kitchen, seeing Alfred eating a burger from a McDonald's bag. He did that a lot; walking all the way to the nearest McDonald's just to get himself food. The fact that they lived in Canada and didn't have as many McDonald's around made the whole thing even more bizarre.
"So, Mattie decided to move his boy toy in and now I don't have a place to sleep..." The boy started.
"Why don't you sleep wizh your fazher?" Francis suggested.
"No! His eyebrows might attack me in my sleep!"
"Alfred, what is McDonalds lacing zheir burgers wizh?"
"Mealworms."
"You know zhat but you still eat it?"
"Yep."
"Disgusting."
Alfred rolled his eyes. "So anyway, I need you to shack up with dad and give me the couch."
"Your fazher and I are divorced, Alfred. It would be weird."
"It's not like our family's the most normal on the block anyway. Just suck it up and get over it."
Francis blinked. So Matthew wasn't the only one bothered by the separation. At least Al was more subtle about it.
"I'll talk to 'im."

(•••)

"So, I know you're not going to like this..." Arthur said as he climbed into bed next to his ex who was reading a magazine. "But I have to ask you to leave."
"What?! Arzhur you said a week."
"Yes, but that was before Ivan decided that he wanted to live here. Our house is too crowded."
"We could give Alfred up for adoption?"
"Francis, be serious here." Despite the lecturing tone, Francis could see the slightest of smirks on the brit's lips.
"Désolé." The other blonde put his magazine down. "But we can work around zhis. All we need to do is take all your zhings from your study and put it in 'ere zhen use zhat room for zhe twin's and zheir families."
Arthur sighed. "Are you sure it's going to be enough room?"
"Oui. Zhe babies can sleep wizh zheir parents, pas de problemme. By zhe time zhey are too big, Matthieu and Alfred will 'ave zheir own places."
"Francis..." Arthur buried himself under the blankets so only his eyes and caterpillar brows were visible. "I haven't had sex in eight years."
"Quoi? Why are you telling me zhis?"
"I'm just saying it's been a while. If our lives were a book, that day with Lukas would have been at least seventeen chapters ago."
"Arzhur..."
"Technically I'm still his...I don't really want to be his..."
Francis sighed. "Are you trying to say you want me?"
Arthur looked away, the visible part of his face was bright red.
"Arzhur, we're divorced. Plus zhere are kids in zhe 'ouse. A lot of zhem."
"We don't have to do it now. I'm just putting the idea out there..."
"I still love you Arzhur."
"I love you too."
Francis sighed and rolled over, not giving another word.
"Francis, I deserve this rejection. I was awful to you."
"You don't deserve-"
"You can stay. I want you to."
Francis rolled back over, pulling Arthur in close to his body. He fell asleep feeling more right than he had in eight whole years.