Hetalia: Coffee Days In Berlin (Boy x Boy)

Chapter Seven: Christmas Day

(I can't guarantee that I can keep this going, but I'm going to try. Thanks for reading it!)

    Francis fluttered his eyes open and saw Ludwig sleeping peacefully beside him. Yesterday had been quite wild. They had baked, told stories, watched movies, finished decorating the tree, and Roderich had played some piano for them. He couldn't help but watch Ludwig, as Francis had never woken up before him before, and he smiled at this, sneaking a hand over to ruffle Ludwig's hair. Within Ludwig's sleep he pulled Francis towards him a cuddled the man, causing Francis to blush, but he didn't protest. But a sudden yell (and a few thumps of running footsteps) from his brother caused Ludwig to jerk up, and away. He didn't say anything about the cuddling though, he just fell back on the bed muttering for a moment about how stupid his brother was and began falling back asleep, pulling the covers to his nose.
    "Ludwig? We should probably get up..." Francis chuckled, shaking Ludwig's shoulder. Ludwig looked up at him, his eyes were fixed on him for a second, but then he nodded. Yawning, he got out of bed and got changed with Francis before heading out of them room. They came to a hilarious and childish sight when they entered the living room.
"I want my damn presents!" Gilbert exclaimed, both Roderich and Elizaveta were holding him back from the tree.
"It's not time yet!" Roderich yelled indignantly, pushing against Gilbert, who squirmed reaching for the tree.
"Besides, Erika opens her presents first!" Elizaveta grumbled out in irritation and straining. But soon after saying those words, she noticed Francis chuckling a signature "honhonhon" and Ludwig who had a hand plastered on his face in the form of a face palm. Francis' eyebrows were raised as he watched Gilbert acting so childishly. But Father Beilschmidt had come to the rescue. Picking up his son by the neck of his shirt from behind.
"No presents yet. Erika is first. I lock you in closet if you try again." Mr. Beilschmidt said gruffly. Gilbert pouted when his father set him down on the couch, Ludwig sighed and shook his head. 
"Gilbert, stop acting like a petulant child." The Frenchman's best friend spoke, folding his arms and walking over to his brother.
"I am sorry if we woke you up, although, I'm sure Gilbert running down the hall screaming about Christmas is more of a wake up call." Elizaveta apologized as Francis slowly followed his friend.
"Oh non, you're right, it was Gilbert." Francis chuckled, nodding. Francis took a seat next to Ludwig who was in the process of shaking Gilbert's shoulders while his brother pouted. Francis couldn't help but laugh a bit at the prospect of an adult such as Gilbert mopping about how they couldn't get their presents. But from what Francis understood, that was just Gilbert. Gilbert was a special breed of adult, you just had to learn to embrace it.
"I'm starting to wonder which one is truthfully the older brother." Roderich sighed, dropping down on the couch across from the one Ludwig, Francis, and Gilbert were sitting on. Gilbert looked up and glared at Roderich, causing Ludwig to actually let loose of a little laugh. The frenchmen smiled and rested his head on Ludwig's shoulder, oblivious to the German's growing blush. Elizaveta noticed it and smiled, knowing that while they really weren't in a romantic relationship, they most certainly would be in the near future, and she would count on Gilbert to keep her updated. Finally Basch and Erika awoke, and came into the living room. Father Beilschmidt smiled, and sat next to the Christmas tree, Erika sitting near. He handed Erika her first present, and she opened it, delighted by what she had gotten. Francis watched with a smiled as Erika opened her last one, smiling a sweet little smile. She most certainly was a sweet child from what Francis had gathered so far.
    "Francis, how old are you?" Elizaveta asked suddenly. Francis didn't know why it was important, but shrugged and told her.
    "Twenty-three mon ami."
    "Ok, because we go in order by age for who opens presents. The youngest go first. Like Liechtenstein is thirteen, Basch is eighteen, Roderich is twenty-one, Ludwig is twenty-one, Gilbert is twenty-two, I'm twenty-five and Mr. Beilschmidt...well, he'd probably prefer I️ didn't say."
    "Alright." Francis smiled.
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