Knull Meg Hardt, Pappa

Død Manns Tango

"Uncle Gil! Uncle Toni!" Gilbert and Toni weren't related to Francis at all, but they were so close to him that Matthew referred to them as uncles anyway. Alfred didn't, but only because he was "too cool" for that.
"Hey there little guys!" Gilbert greeted with the enthusiasm he always had. Francis and his friends all had a huge love for the twins, enough so that the Prussian and the Spaniard had practically become uncles.
Antonio noticed the cast on Alfred's arm and gaped. "What happened to you?"
"I fell down the stairs! It was so fun!" Alfred grinned.
"I did that when I was your age too!" Gilbert bragged. "I rode the top of a plastic tote all the way down.
"Mattie, we should try that!" Alfred suggested.
"Oh no you don't!" Arthur put his hands on his sons head. "I'm not letting you break another arm.
"But daaaaad."
"You should listen to your dad. After so many breaks people get tired of signing your cast and it just ends up being bare and sad until you finally decide to just draw dic- I mean....nasty things on it."
"Will you guys sign my cast?" Alfred pulled a marker from his pocket, offering it to the older males.
"Hell yeah!" Gilbert knelt next to the boy and signed one of the few blank spots he could find. Antonio followed soon after.
"Mattie, when you break your arm, come to me and I'll sign you cast too." Gilbert promised.
"Yeah!" Matthew cheered.
"Do not encourage him." Arthur warned.
"Let's go inside." Alister suggested.
"Yeah." Arthur agreed, tightening his grip on Peter. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't want to see Francis like that. But he knew it was the only way he was going to move on.
He followed his brothers and his late husband's friends into the funeral home to where Francis's open coffin lay, surrounded in roses and soft white silks. He looked so elegant, exactly how Arthur always wanted to remember him.
"Papa..." Matthew was the first to approach the coffin. Alfred followed right behind him.
Arthur left Peter in Alister's hands, joining his older sons by his husband's side.
He didn't know what to do with himself; and neither did his children. Matthew stared at the body in shock and Alfred shuffled uncomfortably. Arthur found himself regretting his decision to do this. What if the boys were traumatized?
"Papa..." Matthew put his hand on top of his papa's hand. "I hope you're okay up there."
"Don't miss us too hard." Alfred added.
Arthur put a hand on each son's shoulder. He was so proud of them for being so strong. He hoped that he could manage to hold himself together like that someday.
The day continued slowly, with lots of family members and old friends coming in to pay their respects. There were plenty of people he hadn't seen in years and plenty he hadn't met at all. A lot of the older friends spent time talking to the children who they hadn't seen in a while. A couple old relatives of Francis's hadn't known they had kids at all.
It was a lot of socializing, way more than Arthur had ever done alone, but eventually people stopped flowing in and everybody decided to pack up to go to the burial.
Arthur just wanted to go home and nap, but the day was somehow only young.

Days.
It took me days to write this.
Fuck me.