The Waiting Game (4/4)
Title: The Waiting Game
Rating: PG
Pairing: France/England
Warning: AU, Human Names, Slash
Summary: It isn't easy waiting for a baby, especially when you've been trying to adopt for nearly two years. (De-anon from the hetalia_kink meme.)
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3
Part 4
Arthur didn't sleep at all that night. Even knowing that he would not have to be at work the next morning, or the next few weeks, didn't help him to find any rest. He merely laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and listening to Francis's own even breaths coming from his side of the bed. He envied Francis, and the last Unisom capsules he had wrestled out of Arthur's grasp, because he was the only one who had been able to get any sleep these past few nights.
He supposed it was the fact that parenthood was lurking just around the corner and the thought that his children would be born the next morning that was keeping his eyes wide open and making his skin tingle. He honestly couldn't think of anything more nerve wracking than the idea that he was going to be in charge of the well being of two defenseless little babies and his stomach felt jittery just from that thought alone.
Arthur tried to get himself to relax by thinking about soothing things, but everything from counting sheep to taking deep calming breaths failed to do him any good. Before he knew it, the sun had come up and their alarm had already begun to wail.
It took two full minutes of steady buzzing -- and a swift jab to the side -- for Francis to finally wake up, but when he did Arthur was able to see that he was feeling just as anxious.
"We should get her something," Francis was saying over their hastily made breakfast. Not that Arthur really cared. His stomach was far too knotted up to feel the least bit hungry, so the two slices of toast accompanying his scrambled eggs was more than enough for him. "Bertie that is. It would be rude for us to show up empty handed."
"We're already paying for the hospital room," Arthur noted bitterly as he took a small sip at his tea. "And all of her medical expenses. What else is there?"
Francis pinned him with a withering frown, but Arthur knew his husband saw right through him. Francis was right, it would only be proper for them to give Alberta something in order to express their gratitude, but what on earth would be an appropriate gift for someone who was giving you her babies.
There's no real monetary value that could be put on it, Arthur mused internally. No little good or trinket could truly express our appreciation.
After all, this wasn't just about the babies, but Alberta herself. Being fifteen years old and pregnant likely wasn't something the poor thing had ever expected to experience and Arthur couldn't imagine the hardships she had gone through these past nine months. He wondered how many friends she had lost, how many family members had chastised her, and how many strangers had openly stared when she ventured out in public. He supposed that the girl was fortunate to have had the final leg of her pregnancy land in the summer when school would not be in session, but it was likely a very minor relief.
"Flowers?" Arthur suggested after a few minutes of silence that had been occupied only by the gentle click clank of their forks scraping across the plates.
"That is a bit ordinary," Francis tsked as he stirred his coffee idly. "She is giving us children. We need to do something a bit more personal."
"Not too personal," Arthur warned lightly, because he had a feeling Francis was thinking along the same lines. "We don't want to overstep our bounds. After all, it seems that Alberta wants to put all this behind her when we take the twins."
"I know," he sighed and once again the two lapsed into a steady silence as they finished the rest of their breakfast.
Arthur heaved a deep sigh as he glanced at the clock and saw that it was still only nine forty-five. Alberta wouldn't be admitted to the hospital until the afternoon, which meant that she likely wouldn't be taken to the operating room to have her Caesarean for another hour after arriving. They would be parents by the evening, but until then Arthur and Francis would be left with nothing to do aside from wait.
"You know," Arthur began at length as the two began clearing the dishes from the table, "we never did decide what the children would be called."
"Oh, Arthur!" Francis moaned as he dumped their plates thoughtlessly in the sink. "Let us not drudge up that again."
"No, that's not what I meant," he put in quickly. "Well, yes we haven't done that either and it is still an issue but... Well are the children going to be named 'Kirkland-Bonnefoy' or 'Bonnefoy-Kirkland'?"
He watched as Francis's eyes widened as the realization slowly settled upon his shoulders. "Oh."
"I think they should be called 'Kirkland-Bonnefoy.'"
"Of course you do," Francis huffed. "So that everyone who thinks the name is too long can drop the 'Bonnefoy' and simply refer to them as 'Kirkland.'"
"And we all know that 'Kirkland' is a much better name than 'Bonnefoy,' so I'm sure that the children will thank me for that."
"This is just like when we were about to be married," Francis said with a roll of his eyes as he began rummaging around in his pockets. "This time, there will be no fist fights. We will settle this in a clear, logical manner." Arthur watched as Francis pulled out a coin from his back pocket, turning it between his thumb and forefinger to show that both sides were distinctly different. "Call it in the air."
Arthur gave out a frantic cry of "Heads!" just as the coin went spinning into the air above them.
--
"Are you sure roses are appropriate?" Arthur asked for what had to be the hundredth time as Francis busied himself by pulling at the large yellow bow wrapped around the vase that Arthur held awkwardly in his arms. The stalks were so long and the petals so full that Arthur could hardly see beyond the field of yellow obscuring his vision.
"Of course they are," Francis assured him as he continued to adjust the flowers one by one. "Everyone loves roses."
Arthur rolled his eyes and shifted closer to the rear wall in the hopes of being able to watch the numbers tick by as the lift rose higher and higher. Mrs. Jones had called them at precisely four fifteen after the babies had been born and Arthur and Francis had all but scrambled in order to get to the hospital before visiting hours could end.
His insides had begun to feel even more knotted up and jittery the moment they had received the call and Arthur could see from the way that Francis kept rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels that he felt the same way. It was hard to believe that they were finally going to see their children and from the very second that they stepped onto polished floors of the local hospital, Arthur felt as if he had entered some sort of surreal dream.
The elevator gave out a loud ding just as the doors slid open onto their level. "Here we are," Francis announced as he grabbed Arthur's elbow in order to tug him out of the lift and guide him onto the landing. "Which way to the maternity wing?"
"Wait a minute Francis," Arthur said as he gently slipped his arm from Francis's grasp. "I want to say something before we go any further."
Francis stopped just a few steps away from the lifts and even knowing that the people milling about were giving them little regard, Arthur still felt the tips of his ears turn positively pink and his throat go painfully dry in the face of the very public area.
"I wanted to say..." Arthur stopped as he glanced over to the far end of the hall where a young woman was being pushed in a wheelchair towards a hospital room. "Well, I'm really glad... I don't think I would have been able to get through all this without you. And..."
"I feel the same way," Francis cut in as he pressed a firm hand against Arthur's shoulder. "I probably would have gone insane if you were not here with me throughout all of this."
Arthur didn't really see how any of that could be true, but he decided not to say anything else on the matter. He only smiled over at Francis and would have kissed him were it not for the oversized bouquet of flowers standing between them.
"Come," Francis instructed as his hand slid from Arthur's shoulder and back to his elbow. "Let us go see Bertie."
He nodded and they made their way down the maternity wing to a room just two doors past the nurse's station. The room was dim; the small window placed at the far end barely offering any light at all, and the only sound that could be heard was the steady ticks of a wall clock. Arthur couldn't tell if there was another patient inside, because the lime green curtain dividing the room was pulled shut, but that didn't really matter as his eyes landed on Alberta's prone figure straight away.
It was funny how easily he was able to recognize her, because her back was turned towards the door and her usual baggy, wrinkled clothes were replaced by a green and white hospital gown, but somehow Arthur was able to tell that the pale girl with wavy blonde hair was Alberta Jones.
Arthur stepped into the room first and stiffened at the sight of an unfamiliar man sitting at Alberta's bedside. He was middle aged and heavy set with thinning hair and thick rimmed glasses. The man looked absolutely exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in days, but he sat resolutely in the plastic chair staring at Alberta's back and running a tender hand through her tangled hair. Arthur knew right away that this was Alberta's father.
"Mr. Jones?" Francis ventured as he pushed his way through the small doorframe and the mass of flowers still cradled in Arthur's hands. The man looked up at them, his hand stilling at the name and his tired face growing more alert. "I am Mr. Bonnefoy," Francis went on when it became clear that they had the right man. "And this is Mr. Kirkland."
"Oh, you're the couple..." Mr. Jones began, his voice trailing off into a faint whisper as he stood from his seat. He shook Francis's hand before turning to do the same for Arthur, and he had to admit he was startled by the firmness of Mr. Jones's grip. "My wife told me you'd be coming. She was here a while ago, but she went home to go sit with our boys."
"Well, I am glad that we finally have the opportunity to meet," Francis went on, lowering his voice to a whisper when it became clear from the fact that she still had not moved that Alberta was sound asleep. "Is she alright? Bertie that is."
"Fine," he said with a nod, his eyes drifting back towards Alberta's slumbering form for just a moment. "Everything went as planned and... and she's young, so..."
"That is good to hear."
"These are for her," Arthur said, nodding towards the large bouquet that was starting to strain his grasp. "A small token of our thanks."
Mr. Jones nodded as he took the vase from Arthur's hands and placed it down on a nearby table.
"We also wanted to give her this," Francis put in as he handed Mr. Jones a small gift bag. "It is a necklace with today's date on it. I know that Bertie probably wants to put all this behind her, but we wanted to show her that we are grateful for everything she has done for us and that we will never forget it."
Again Mr. Jones nodded as he accepted their gift, clutching the strings of the bag tightly in his hands. "I'll be sure that she gets it."
"It is such a shame that she is asleep," Francis noted as he nodded towards Bertie's bed once more. She shifted slightly, a gentle sigh escaping her lips, but she quickly settled back to sleep. "We wanted to speak to her one last time and say goodbye."
"I think it's better this way," Mr. Jones shrugged. "No offense. You two seem like nice people, but... well all this has been very confusing for Bertie and I think it would be best if we all just moved on from here."
"We understand," Arthur nodded as he gently grasped Francis's arm and began leading him towards the door. "We had better be going then."
Mr. Jones nodded and the three men exchanged awkward goodbyes and sincere well wishes before parting ways. Arthur looked at Alberta's small frame for one moment longer before heading back to the nurse's station in hopes of finding the nursery.
--
"Which ones do you think are ours?" Francis asked as he gazed at the rows of newborns wrapped up in soft white blankets and held in plastic cribs. There were more of them than Arthur had ever expected to see, because he felt certain that things like hospital nurseries were no longer used, but he supposed for people like them it was only natural to find their own babies in this sort of place.
He frowned as he looked from behind the other side of the glass wall at the little bundles sleeping, crying, and fussing about in their cradles. It was hard to tell any of them apart. They were all wrapped in identical blankets and caps* and Arthur couldn't even tell which babe was a boy and which was a girl.
"They are all so precious," Francis cooed as he gazed wide eyed at the closest set of infants. One was laying still and flat on its back, one was busy kicking at air, and one was screaming itself bright red. (Arthur hoped that last one wasn't one of theirs.)
"Settle down now Francis," Arthur chided playfully. "Remember, we're only bringing home two babies."
Francis scoffed before giving Arthur's side a firm nudge just as one of the nurses came out from the nursery.
"Mr. Bonnefoy? Mr. Kirkland?" the woman began, instantly gaining their attention. She smiled at their eagerness, her bright yellow scrubs causing the gesture to seem that much warmer and friendlier, before motioning for them to follow her inside.
Francis grasped Arthur's wrist tightly and he could practically feel the excitement thrumming from his husband's finger tips. As they approached the nursery, Arthur found that his heart was beating so frantically that he couldn't hear anything else and for a moment he felt like turning around and heading for the parking lot. It was too late of course, because the moment he stepped inside the brightly lit room he saw that the nurse was already standing in front of two plastic cribs, one labeled "Jones, A" and one "Jones, B."
"Congratulations," the nurse smiled. "Here are your son and daughter."
"Our twins!" Francis gasped as he hurried over to the little hospital beds. "Oh look at them Arthur! They are perfect! And a boy and a girl. Just as we wanted."
Arthur felt his heart jump about inside of him as he crept closer towards the two newborns that had captured Francis's attention. He wasn't at all surprised when he discovered that Francis was right, the twins were indeed quite perfect. They were small and pink and wonderfully pudgy and Arthur didn't know whether or not he wanted to nibble at their little toes or simply stare at them all day and all night.
"Can we hold them?" Francis asked the nurse, his fingers already inching their way towards the chubby newborn in front of him.
"Of course you can," she assured. "Just make sure that you support the head. Their necks are very delicate."
Francis was practically beaming as he carefully reached into the crib and gently held the babe against his chest. "So sweet," Francis whispered as he ran his fingers along the newborn's soft, full cheeks. "And so... perfect." He watched as Francis began to gently tug at the baby's wrappings, pulling the blanket aside and peaking into the diaper. "This one is the girl," Francis announced as he quickly tucked the blankets back around her. "I should have known. Girls as so much softer."
Arthur tsked as he starred down at the little one in front of him. He didn't bother to lift the child, choosing instead to brush his fingers against the little head that was still wrapped in a pink and blue stripped cap. The gesture was enough to cause a soft little gurgle to erupt from the babe's lips and for one moment his little eyes slipped open and starred into Arthur's. Something inside of him turned soft and warm and his heart stopped its jumping and began to flutter gently.
"Alfred."
Francis turned towards him then, his eyes momentarily torn away from the newborn in his own arms. "What did you say?"
Arthur blinked, because he had been so wrapped up in studying the baby's face that he hadn't realized that he had said anything. "Um, Alfred," he repeated as he gently lifted the baby into his arms. It felt quite natural to have him there, his little head pressed against his heart and his soft smell drifting into his nostrils. "I think he should be named Alfred, because… well, he looks like an Alfred."
An approving smile pulled at Francis's lips as his gaze shift back to the other twin. "Yes, Alfred is a fine name," he agreed. "And this little angel shall be called Madeleine."
Arthur smiled, enjoying the sound of that name in his ears. "Madeleine," he repeated, his grin growing wider. "Alfred and Madeleine."
"Alfred and Madeleine Bonnefoy-Kirkland," Francis clarified, still preening over his victory during the coin toss (which had ended only after nine intense rounds of coin flipping).
Not that Arthur really cared. In that moment, the world was far too perfect for anything aside from the two children in their arms to really matter.
--
"Oh Arthur, look at them back there," Francis sighed as he stared wistfully at the two little bundles occupying the backseat. "I think that they might be asleep already."
"I would imagine," he said with forced indifference. "At this age, all they'll be doing is sleeping. That is when they're not eating, pooping, and crying."
Arthur took a moment to smile at the images reflected in his rear view mirror. It was only the fear of being beeped by an impatient driver that helped him to tear his eyes away from the sight of the two infants strapped into the car seats just behind him.
They had been forced to leave the twins at the hospital the day that they had been born in order for the doctors and nurses to run a few more tests on them and the evening that followed was filled with jittery frustration. It was like unwrapping presents on Christmas Eve, only to be told touch them until Christmas day proper. But all the waiting was over now and there was nothing left to stand between them and their babies. It was still so strange and somewhat unreal to know that they were finally taking their children home, that the twins were now completely theirs, but it was a good strange and it made Arthur's skin pepper with happy little goose bumps.
"I cannot wait to get them home," Francis beamed as he settled back into his seat. "We will get to put them in their crib and have them play with their toys and... Oh, all the new little outfits I will have to buy them! And Madeleine. All the cute little dresses I can put her in..."
"Now, remember Francis, they are babies not dollies for you to play dress up with. Besides, do you really think that we'll get a quiet evening at home tonight?"
"What do you mean?"
Arthur sighed as he gently turned onto their street. "Well you know how your mother can be," he said. "She's sure to make a fuss about all of this, especially given how eager she has been about the babies."
"You are being silly," Francis said with a roll of his eyes as they eased into their driveway. "I am sure that Maman knows that we will want to just have some time to enjoy the babies."
Arthur bit his tongue, because the last thing he wanted to was to start an argument in front of their newborns so soon after getting them. Instead he focused on slipping out of the car and gently easing the children out. He grabbed Madeleine's seat, carefully sliding it from the locks and freeing the carriage from the confines of the backseat. Francis followed his lead, delicately removing Alfred from the car with all the care that one would use while handling precious cargo. The two walked steadily towards their house, clutching each child securely in their arms before giving the door a quick rap in the hopes that Madame Bonnefoy would let them in without forcing either of them to dig for their keys.
"This is your new home," Francis whispered to little Alfred and Madeleine, both of whom were still sound asleep. "You are going to meet your grand- mère and she is going to simply love you both."
Arthur began to say something to that, but the lock sliding out of the bolt was just enough to drown out the sound of his muttered words.
"Welcome home, lads!"
Francis yelped and Arthur tried his hardest not to jump at the sight of Wallace standing on the other side of the door holding a camcorder in his hands.
"Wallace!" Arthur cried out as he clutched little Madeleine's car seat against his chest. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Recording this joyous event," Wallace said with a sarcastic chuckle as he took a step closer in order to point the camera's lenses less than an inch away from Arthur's face. "Smile for the camera, Artie! No naughty words now. Remember: your wee ones are listening."
Arthur let out a low growl as he made to bat the camera away, but Wallace saw the gesture coming and quickly stepped back, avoiding the blow completely. He gave another huff, tempted to take another swing at the twinkling lenses in front of him, but reconsidered when Madeleine began to fuss in her seat.
"Oh Wallace, stop playing around," Mummy tsked as she pushed her way past Wallace's bulky form in order to stand in the doorway. "Now move aside and let me have a look at my grandbabies."
"Not before me," Madame Bonnefoy cried out with an indignant huff as she elbowed her way in front of Wallace, who was now bobbing and weaving in order to keep his camera focused on at least one of the twins. "Where are they? Let me have them!"
"Now ladies," Arthur chided gently as he cautiously made his way into the foyer. "There are plenty of babies for both of you to fuss over."
By the time Arthur had maneuvered his way around his mother and mother in law, and past Wallace and his trusty camera, he found his stomach sinking and his cheeks burning at the sight of the full house awaiting him. Gilbert was hogging a tray of hors d'oeuvre and cramming as much of the finger foods into his mouth as possible while Ludwig looked on with a mixture of embarrassment and horror while his boyfriend Feliciano giggled playfully. Antonio chuckled as he kept an arm wrapped around his perturbed looking partner Lovino. Liam and Dylan were sitting on the sofa drinking beer and chatting with Yao, who looked as if he wanted to jump out the nearest open window in order to escape his present company.
Hanging above the small group was a large banner with the words "It's a Boy" in soft blue letters while the phrase "and a Girl!" was crudely attached to the other end. Scattered around them all were what seemed to be dozens of gifts and balloons and tables layered with refreshments. The whole scene was enough to make Arthur's skin crawl as he glanced over at Francis with a look that very plainly said "I told you so."
Of course, Francis was quick to send him his own little look, one that said "Well your mother is just as bad."
"What is all this?" Francis asked hesitantly as glanced over at their mothers.
"A welcome home party for the babes," Wallace piped in as he came up beside Francis and pointed the camera directly at his nose. "By the way, Franny, have I told you that fatherhood really agrees with you?"
"Oh? Do you think so?" he preened.
"Yeah! You're positively glowing."
"Wallace," Arthur warned testily as his mother managed to pry Madeleine's car seat out of his hands.
"Oh, so cute," Mummy cooed as she gently unfastened Madeleine and cradled her in her thin arms. "This one must be Madeleine."
"What was your first clue?" Madame Bonnefoy snipped, likely referring to the newborn's pink and ribbon layered outfit. The comment was enough to earn her a sidelong glance from Mummy, not that it stopped Madame Bonnefoy from removing Alfred from his little seat and holding him against her chest. "Bonjour, mon amor. Je suis votre grand-mère."
"Oh, don't start croaking at the baby already," Mummy huffed wearily.
"Oooh, look at the baby!" Antonio crooned as he eased next to Madame Bonnefoy in order to take a good look at little Alfred. "He's so tiny and cute! Francis you're so lucky."
"Thanks a lot, asshole," Lovino sneered at Arthur while wearing a look that was nearly as seething as his tone. "Now that you two have kids, this bastard's trying to get me to have a baby with him."
"I'm sorry," Arthur muttered, because he truly was. After all, he wasn't sure that any child should be stuck with Antonio or Lovino for a parent, let alone both of them.
"Can I hold one of the babies next?" Feliciano asked as his eyes shifted from Madeleine to Alfred and back again.
"Oh, Feli, I was gonna ask that," Antonio laughed.
"Ay, nobody gets to hold the babies before their uncles," Liam said testily as he peeked over at Madeleine still cradled in the circle of Mummy's arms.
"Aw, Liam," Francis nearly crooned as he gave Liam's arm a steady, yet sincere, pat. "I did not know you liked children."
Liam didn't give much of an answer aside from a few grumbled words and as he glared uncomfortably down at the floor. Arthur watched his brother's discomfort with a wry smile, already knowing full and well that every Kirkland had an inherent weakness for babies.
--
"It was so nice of everyone to come by like that," Francis noted as he gently slipped Alfred's tightly balled fist into the sleeve of a powdered blue stripped pajama set. His efforts were met with a great deal of protest as Alfred continued to struggle against him, causing Francis to stop periodically in order to caress Alfred's little fingers with the back of his thumb and utter a soothing word or two. "All the nice little toys and clothes they gave us..."
"And the truck load of junk Yao unloaded on us," Arthur grumbled as he finished buttoning Madeleine into her mint green sleep suit with the little polar bear etched into the chest.
Francis shrugged, no doubt considering the used toys, worn blankets, and tattered towels that his coworker had given them that afternoon. Arthur had a strong suspicion that Yao's generous nature was due in large part to his desire not to have any more children. Although Arthur highly doubted that simply giving away all of his supplies would do him any good, but Arthur had to admit that he was more than happy to hold it all over his head if Yao ever were to have another child.
Alfred let out an unpleasant gurgle as Francis finished closing up his pajamas. He was quick to gather Alfred into his arms once more in order to give his back a quick pat. It had been a long day and most of the afternoon had been spent watching the twins being passed around and fawned over by friends and relatives as their guests guzzled drinks and packed away most of their food. (Most because, much to Arthur's surprise, many of Mummy's hors d'oeuvre had gone untouched.) Arthur was just grateful that their mothers had stuck around to help them clean up and care for the children.
Now it was time for the babies to be put down to bed and Arthur was feeling more than a bit anxious about their first night at home. He brushed a quick hand over Madeleine's head, the soft tuffs of light blonde hair a welcomed caress against his palm, and Arthur had to wonder if the two would be able to sleep comfortably through the night.
"Do you think these pajamas will be too warm for them?" Francis asked as he tugged gently at the soft fabric wrapped around Alfred's little legs. "After all, it has been terribly warm this summer."
"It'll be fine," Arthur assured him as he gently carried Madeleine over to the crib and carefully settled her down on the bedding below. "I just hope that this mattress is soft enough."
"I hope so too," Francis pouted as he lowered Alfred onto the bed beside Madeleine. "After all, they are such delicate creatures."
"Oh you two," Mummy chided as she wafted into the nursery and walked over to the pair of baby monitors resting on top of the nightstand. They had been a gift from Ludwig and Arthur appreciated them, not only for their practical nature, but for high quality. He was sure the monitors would last through many hectic nights. "Such a pair you are. These babies will be just fine. The best thing that you can do is get some rest and prepare for when they wake for the morning feeding."
She switched on one of the radios, setting it down close to the crib before switching on the other and handing it over to Arthur and walking casually out of the room.
Arthur heaved a heavy sigh as Francis slumped his shoulders. "I suppose there's nothing left for us to do except say goodnight," Arthur groaned as he reached across the crib's polished bars in order to give Alfred's stomach a gentle rub. Madeleine was already fast asleep and breathing evenly, but Alfred seemed to still be clinging stubbornly to the last bit of energy he had in him. "Goodnight little man," he whispered gently, before moving on to Madeleine. "Sweet dreams princess."
Francis blew kisses to the now slumbering twins, whispering sweet words of love to them in French before Arthur turned out the lights and ushered them both out of the room.
They didn't get much sleep that night as both of them kept waking up and wandering into the nursery each time a soft gurgle or coo came in from the other end of the monitor. By two in the morning, Francis and Arthur had both gave up on all attempts at sleeping in the living room and grabbed their pillows and blankets and camped out on the nursery's floor.
--
Seven Months Later...
"Daddy made the two of you something very special. Do you know what it is?"
Arthur held the hardened pastry out in front of the twins, passing it underneath Alfred and then Madeleine's little noses in order for the two to study it carefully with their wide blue eyes. So much time had passed since the twins had come into the world, when they were both small and pink and nearly identical. They were still quite small, but they had grown considerably and seemed more hardy than fragile and while some could mistake one twin for the other, it would only be after a fleeting glance. Upon careful study, one would have a hard time mistaking Madeleine for Alfred or vice versa as Francis was always careful to keep Madeleine's hair, which had grown much longer than her brother's, decorated with bows and clips and any other festive items he might find while Alfred made sure to keep himself caked in enough goop and goo as to never be mistaken for the much neater twin.
Alfred reached a chubby hand towards the biscuit held gently in Arthur's grasp. His little fingers brushed over the flaky crust as he glanced up at Arthur with a surprising amount of confidence in his eyes for a baby and said "Foo," which was as close as any seven month old could get to saying "yummy, delicious food freshly baked from scratch."
"That's right Alfred, scones," Arthur laughed as he tore the scone in his hand into small pieces, handing one chunk to each baby. "Your Papa told me to wait until you were a bit older before giving you any but... well I think your gums are hard enough."
He sat back and watched with great joy and pride as each baby placed the scones to their lips. Madeleine, clutching her piece of scone securely in both hands, gave the biscuit a few quick licks as if to try the flavor out on her tongue, before making a small noise of displeasure and placing it down on the ground.
"Madeleine, don't do that," Arthur tutted gently as he picked the discarded food up and placed it in a napkin. "You have to eat it. You see? Your brother likes it."
Indeed Alfred seemed to have taken to the flavor better than Madeleine and had crammed most of his piece into his mouth and was currently gumming it to the best of his ability.
"What are you doing to the children?" Francis practically demanded as he entered the nursery.
Arthur looked up at Francis as he entered and Arthur suddenly felt quite silly sitting on the plush carpet with his legs tucked under him. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he huffed as he pulled Madeleine onto his lap. "I'm letting the babies try my scones."
"You have poisoned my babies!" Francis cried out dramatically as he fell to his hands and knees and crawled in front of Alfred. Upon seeing that Alfred did in fact still have his piece of scone between his lips, Francis pulled the baby into his lap and began patting his back gently, yet frantically. "Spit it out, mon coeur! Spit it out!"
Alfred gave a small cough before reaching into his own mouth and pulling out the scone. (It was a trick that Alfred had learned after one too many attempts to eat his building blocks.) Alfred gave another cough as if to spit out a bitter flavor, before handing the gooey, spit coated hunk of bread over to Francis.
"Alfred!" Arthur cried out. "That's disgusting."
"At least he did not swallow," Francis breathed as he motioned for Arthur to hand him a napkin.
"Pawpawpaw," Alfred chanted as he studied the way Francis wiped at the palm of his hand.
"Yes, yes, Papa just saved your life," he breathed as he gave Alfred's belly a few quick pats before kissing the top of his head. "No need to thank me."
"I did not poison him you..." Arthur was quick to cut himself off when he remembered the little ears currently occupying the room.
"Oh look, Madeleine fell asleep in your arms," Francis crooned. Sure enough, when Arthur looked down he saw that Madeleine's little head was resting firmly against his chest as soft even puffs of breath escaped her gently parted lips. "It is so cute when she does that," Francis went on as he adjusted Alfred in his arms. "Would you like to take a nap too, mon coeur?"
Alfred responded to the question by wrinkling his brow and blowing angry spit bubbles at them.
Arthur chuckled as he carefully maneuvered himself off of the ground in order to deposit Madeleine into the cradle and drape a blanket over her. Madeleine let out a soft coo before reaching out to cuddle up next to her stuffed polar bear.
"Here," Francis said as he carefully deposited Alfred into Arthur's arms. "You are best at getting him to sleep."
Alfred gave out a frustrated groan, kicking into the air as his face began to turn pink in the wake of oncoming tears. It was almost as if the boy knew what his parents had planned for him.
"There there, Alfie," Arthur crooned as he gave the boy's back a gentle pat. His cheeks were still pink and tears were beginning to roll down his face, but Arthur could tell that his hands rubbing circles in his side were doing some good. "No more fussing now. Time to nap."
"I want to buy Madeleine some new shoes," Francis whispered as he reached into the crib in order to caress one of her soft pigtails. "And perhaps a new dress or two."
"Francis, do we have to have another talk about how the children are not your personal dress up dolls?"
"I know, but it is almost spring," he pouted. "You cannot blame me for wanting to buy a few new outfits for my sweet little girl."
Arthur rolled his eyes at Francis's comment. He briefly wondered what Francis would be like when Madeleine grew older and became less willing to model all sorts of outfits just for his amusement. Of course, those thoughts came to a swift end, because Arthur didn't like to think about Madeleine growing up. He loved his baby girl dearly and cherished every moment with her, but he had no doubt that there would be a load of trouble in their future when she became a pretty young woman. His only comfort was that she would have Alfred around to protect her, but a twin brother could only do so much.
He let out a weary sigh just as Alfred's breathing became quite slow and even. When he looked down he saw that the baby was now sound asleep in his arms and Arthur couldn't help smiling at how innocent he looked. "There, fast asleep," Arthur whispered with a smug smirk as he gently placed Alfred into the crib beside Madeleine.
"Alfred will need some new things, as well," Francis noted in a hushed tone as he pulled a blanket over Alfred's little shoulders. "Some shoes, a new suit, a few pairs of pants..."
"Francis," Arthur chided gently, but he knew that there was no stopping Francis when he was in this sort of mood.
"Oh Arthur, I know that we are on a budget, but they so cute and they grow so quickly." He watched as Francis leaned heavily against the cradle's railing in order to get a better look at the sleeping twins. "It seems like just yesterday that they were the tiny little things we brought home from the hospital. Now they have nearly doubled in size. Pretty soon they will be walking, going to school..."
"Francis you are not going to trick me into letting you go on a shopping spree by getting me all sentimental."
"You mean that trick already does not work anymore?" Francis pouted.
"Afraid not. I've out grown it."
Francis continued to pout as Arthur tugged on his elbow and gently pulled him away from the crib. Of course they didn't get very far as both of their eyes were still fixed to the sleeping faces just a few steps away. "What did this room used to be?"
"You mean before we made it into a nursery?" Arthur asked as Francis gave a quick nod. "It was a guest room."
"Oh yes. I remember now," he hummed as he looked around the room casually. "We did not get to do much in terms of decorating. Only putting in that old futon and a floor lamp. It seems like ages ago."
"Remember when we started painting?"
"We?"
"Good lord, how many coats of paint have these walls seen? I remember seeing swatches of yellow paint in my sleep for months!"
"And the hell we went through to put all this furniture together," Francis tsked as he eyed the changing table with a wary eye.
"The hell we went through to get them," Arthur muttered.
He felt his heart twist and his throat tighten at the memory of those trying times when their days had been filled with nothing but frustration and self loathing. It was still hard to believe that they had made it through all that pain. Those first few nights after they brought the babies home had been nothing short of dreamlike. Arthur would often wake up in the morning half expecting the twins to disappear from their bed and during the day he kept thinking that their real parents would come round to take them home.
He stiffened slightly as Francis wrapped his fingers around his elbow, giving him a comforting squeeze before pressing a kiss to Arthur's cheek. Arthur reached out a hand to brush against Francis's knuckles and he had to admit he was starting to feel a slight sting in the back of his eyes.
"I suppose… well, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to pick up a few things for the twins," he said with a shrug. "They have been outgrowing all their old things and Alfred certainly does know how to attract stains."
Francis hummed pleasantly in his ear before pressing another kiss to Arthur's cheek. "I knew I could get you to say yes."
Rating: PG
Pairing: France/England
Warning: AU, Human Names, Slash
Summary: It isn't easy waiting for a baby, especially when you've been trying to adopt for nearly two years. (De-anon from the hetalia_kink meme.)
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3
Part 4
Arthur didn't sleep at all that night. Even knowing that he would not have to be at work the next morning, or the next few weeks, didn't help him to find any rest. He merely laid flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and listening to Francis's own even breaths coming from his side of the bed. He envied Francis, and the last Unisom capsules he had wrestled out of Arthur's grasp, because he was the only one who had been able to get any sleep these past few nights.
He supposed it was the fact that parenthood was lurking just around the corner and the thought that his children would be born the next morning that was keeping his eyes wide open and making his skin tingle. He honestly couldn't think of anything more nerve wracking than the idea that he was going to be in charge of the well being of two defenseless little babies and his stomach felt jittery just from that thought alone.
Arthur tried to get himself to relax by thinking about soothing things, but everything from counting sheep to taking deep calming breaths failed to do him any good. Before he knew it, the sun had come up and their alarm had already begun to wail.
It took two full minutes of steady buzzing -- and a swift jab to the side -- for Francis to finally wake up, but when he did Arthur was able to see that he was feeling just as anxious.
"We should get her something," Francis was saying over their hastily made breakfast. Not that Arthur really cared. His stomach was far too knotted up to feel the least bit hungry, so the two slices of toast accompanying his scrambled eggs was more than enough for him. "Bertie that is. It would be rude for us to show up empty handed."
"We're already paying for the hospital room," Arthur noted bitterly as he took a small sip at his tea. "And all of her medical expenses. What else is there?"
Francis pinned him with a withering frown, but Arthur knew his husband saw right through him. Francis was right, it would only be proper for them to give Alberta something in order to express their gratitude, but what on earth would be an appropriate gift for someone who was giving you her babies.
There's no real monetary value that could be put on it, Arthur mused internally. No little good or trinket could truly express our appreciation.
After all, this wasn't just about the babies, but Alberta herself. Being fifteen years old and pregnant likely wasn't something the poor thing had ever expected to experience and Arthur couldn't imagine the hardships she had gone through these past nine months. He wondered how many friends she had lost, how many family members had chastised her, and how many strangers had openly stared when she ventured out in public. He supposed that the girl was fortunate to have had the final leg of her pregnancy land in the summer when school would not be in session, but it was likely a very minor relief.
"Flowers?" Arthur suggested after a few minutes of silence that had been occupied only by the gentle click clank of their forks scraping across the plates.
"That is a bit ordinary," Francis tsked as he stirred his coffee idly. "She is giving us children. We need to do something a bit more personal."
"Not too personal," Arthur warned lightly, because he had a feeling Francis was thinking along the same lines. "We don't want to overstep our bounds. After all, it seems that Alberta wants to put all this behind her when we take the twins."
"I know," he sighed and once again the two lapsed into a steady silence as they finished the rest of their breakfast.
Arthur heaved a deep sigh as he glanced at the clock and saw that it was still only nine forty-five. Alberta wouldn't be admitted to the hospital until the afternoon, which meant that she likely wouldn't be taken to the operating room to have her Caesarean for another hour after arriving. They would be parents by the evening, but until then Arthur and Francis would be left with nothing to do aside from wait.
"You know," Arthur began at length as the two began clearing the dishes from the table, "we never did decide what the children would be called."
"Oh, Arthur!" Francis moaned as he dumped their plates thoughtlessly in the sink. "Let us not drudge up that again."
"No, that's not what I meant," he put in quickly. "Well, yes we haven't done that either and it is still an issue but... Well are the children going to be named 'Kirkland-Bonnefoy' or 'Bonnefoy-Kirkland'?"
He watched as Francis's eyes widened as the realization slowly settled upon his shoulders. "Oh."
"I think they should be called 'Kirkland-Bonnefoy.'"
"Of course you do," Francis huffed. "So that everyone who thinks the name is too long can drop the 'Bonnefoy' and simply refer to them as 'Kirkland.'"
"And we all know that 'Kirkland' is a much better name than 'Bonnefoy,' so I'm sure that the children will thank me for that."
"This is just like when we were about to be married," Francis said with a roll of his eyes as he began rummaging around in his pockets. "This time, there will be no fist fights. We will settle this in a clear, logical manner." Arthur watched as Francis pulled out a coin from his back pocket, turning it between his thumb and forefinger to show that both sides were distinctly different. "Call it in the air."
Arthur gave out a frantic cry of "Heads!" just as the coin went spinning into the air above them.
--
"Are you sure roses are appropriate?" Arthur asked for what had to be the hundredth time as Francis busied himself by pulling at the large yellow bow wrapped around the vase that Arthur held awkwardly in his arms. The stalks were so long and the petals so full that Arthur could hardly see beyond the field of yellow obscuring his vision.
"Of course they are," Francis assured him as he continued to adjust the flowers one by one. "Everyone loves roses."
Arthur rolled his eyes and shifted closer to the rear wall in the hopes of being able to watch the numbers tick by as the lift rose higher and higher. Mrs. Jones had called them at precisely four fifteen after the babies had been born and Arthur and Francis had all but scrambled in order to get to the hospital before visiting hours could end.
His insides had begun to feel even more knotted up and jittery the moment they had received the call and Arthur could see from the way that Francis kept rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels that he felt the same way. It was hard to believe that they were finally going to see their children and from the very second that they stepped onto polished floors of the local hospital, Arthur felt as if he had entered some sort of surreal dream.
The elevator gave out a loud ding just as the doors slid open onto their level. "Here we are," Francis announced as he grabbed Arthur's elbow in order to tug him out of the lift and guide him onto the landing. "Which way to the maternity wing?"
"Wait a minute Francis," Arthur said as he gently slipped his arm from Francis's grasp. "I want to say something before we go any further."
Francis stopped just a few steps away from the lifts and even knowing that the people milling about were giving them little regard, Arthur still felt the tips of his ears turn positively pink and his throat go painfully dry in the face of the very public area.
"I wanted to say..." Arthur stopped as he glanced over to the far end of the hall where a young woman was being pushed in a wheelchair towards a hospital room. "Well, I'm really glad... I don't think I would have been able to get through all this without you. And..."
"I feel the same way," Francis cut in as he pressed a firm hand against Arthur's shoulder. "I probably would have gone insane if you were not here with me throughout all of this."
Arthur didn't really see how any of that could be true, but he decided not to say anything else on the matter. He only smiled over at Francis and would have kissed him were it not for the oversized bouquet of flowers standing between them.
"Come," Francis instructed as his hand slid from Arthur's shoulder and back to his elbow. "Let us go see Bertie."
He nodded and they made their way down the maternity wing to a room just two doors past the nurse's station. The room was dim; the small window placed at the far end barely offering any light at all, and the only sound that could be heard was the steady ticks of a wall clock. Arthur couldn't tell if there was another patient inside, because the lime green curtain dividing the room was pulled shut, but that didn't really matter as his eyes landed on Alberta's prone figure straight away.
It was funny how easily he was able to recognize her, because her back was turned towards the door and her usual baggy, wrinkled clothes were replaced by a green and white hospital gown, but somehow Arthur was able to tell that the pale girl with wavy blonde hair was Alberta Jones.
Arthur stepped into the room first and stiffened at the sight of an unfamiliar man sitting at Alberta's bedside. He was middle aged and heavy set with thinning hair and thick rimmed glasses. The man looked absolutely exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in days, but he sat resolutely in the plastic chair staring at Alberta's back and running a tender hand through her tangled hair. Arthur knew right away that this was Alberta's father.
"Mr. Jones?" Francis ventured as he pushed his way through the small doorframe and the mass of flowers still cradled in Arthur's hands. The man looked up at them, his hand stilling at the name and his tired face growing more alert. "I am Mr. Bonnefoy," Francis went on when it became clear that they had the right man. "And this is Mr. Kirkland."
"Oh, you're the couple..." Mr. Jones began, his voice trailing off into a faint whisper as he stood from his seat. He shook Francis's hand before turning to do the same for Arthur, and he had to admit he was startled by the firmness of Mr. Jones's grip. "My wife told me you'd be coming. She was here a while ago, but she went home to go sit with our boys."
"Well, I am glad that we finally have the opportunity to meet," Francis went on, lowering his voice to a whisper when it became clear from the fact that she still had not moved that Alberta was sound asleep. "Is she alright? Bertie that is."
"Fine," he said with a nod, his eyes drifting back towards Alberta's slumbering form for just a moment. "Everything went as planned and... and she's young, so..."
"That is good to hear."
"These are for her," Arthur said, nodding towards the large bouquet that was starting to strain his grasp. "A small token of our thanks."
Mr. Jones nodded as he took the vase from Arthur's hands and placed it down on a nearby table.
"We also wanted to give her this," Francis put in as he handed Mr. Jones a small gift bag. "It is a necklace with today's date on it. I know that Bertie probably wants to put all this behind her, but we wanted to show her that we are grateful for everything she has done for us and that we will never forget it."
Again Mr. Jones nodded as he accepted their gift, clutching the strings of the bag tightly in his hands. "I'll be sure that she gets it."
"It is such a shame that she is asleep," Francis noted as he nodded towards Bertie's bed once more. She shifted slightly, a gentle sigh escaping her lips, but she quickly settled back to sleep. "We wanted to speak to her one last time and say goodbye."
"I think it's better this way," Mr. Jones shrugged. "No offense. You two seem like nice people, but... well all this has been very confusing for Bertie and I think it would be best if we all just moved on from here."
"We understand," Arthur nodded as he gently grasped Francis's arm and began leading him towards the door. "We had better be going then."
Mr. Jones nodded and the three men exchanged awkward goodbyes and sincere well wishes before parting ways. Arthur looked at Alberta's small frame for one moment longer before heading back to the nurse's station in hopes of finding the nursery.
--
"Which ones do you think are ours?" Francis asked as he gazed at the rows of newborns wrapped up in soft white blankets and held in plastic cribs. There were more of them than Arthur had ever expected to see, because he felt certain that things like hospital nurseries were no longer used, but he supposed for people like them it was only natural to find their own babies in this sort of place.
He frowned as he looked from behind the other side of the glass wall at the little bundles sleeping, crying, and fussing about in their cradles. It was hard to tell any of them apart. They were all wrapped in identical blankets and caps* and Arthur couldn't even tell which babe was a boy and which was a girl.
"They are all so precious," Francis cooed as he gazed wide eyed at the closest set of infants. One was laying still and flat on its back, one was busy kicking at air, and one was screaming itself bright red. (Arthur hoped that last one wasn't one of theirs.)
"Settle down now Francis," Arthur chided playfully. "Remember, we're only bringing home two babies."
Francis scoffed before giving Arthur's side a firm nudge just as one of the nurses came out from the nursery.
"Mr. Bonnefoy? Mr. Kirkland?" the woman began, instantly gaining their attention. She smiled at their eagerness, her bright yellow scrubs causing the gesture to seem that much warmer and friendlier, before motioning for them to follow her inside.
Francis grasped Arthur's wrist tightly and he could practically feel the excitement thrumming from his husband's finger tips. As they approached the nursery, Arthur found that his heart was beating so frantically that he couldn't hear anything else and for a moment he felt like turning around and heading for the parking lot. It was too late of course, because the moment he stepped inside the brightly lit room he saw that the nurse was already standing in front of two plastic cribs, one labeled "Jones, A" and one "Jones, B."
"Congratulations," the nurse smiled. "Here are your son and daughter."
"Our twins!" Francis gasped as he hurried over to the little hospital beds. "Oh look at them Arthur! They are perfect! And a boy and a girl. Just as we wanted."
Arthur felt his heart jump about inside of him as he crept closer towards the two newborns that had captured Francis's attention. He wasn't at all surprised when he discovered that Francis was right, the twins were indeed quite perfect. They were small and pink and wonderfully pudgy and Arthur didn't know whether or not he wanted to nibble at their little toes or simply stare at them all day and all night.
"Can we hold them?" Francis asked the nurse, his fingers already inching their way towards the chubby newborn in front of him.
"Of course you can," she assured. "Just make sure that you support the head. Their necks are very delicate."
Francis was practically beaming as he carefully reached into the crib and gently held the babe against his chest. "So sweet," Francis whispered as he ran his fingers along the newborn's soft, full cheeks. "And so... perfect." He watched as Francis began to gently tug at the baby's wrappings, pulling the blanket aside and peaking into the diaper. "This one is the girl," Francis announced as he quickly tucked the blankets back around her. "I should have known. Girls as so much softer."
Arthur tsked as he starred down at the little one in front of him. He didn't bother to lift the child, choosing instead to brush his fingers against the little head that was still wrapped in a pink and blue stripped cap. The gesture was enough to cause a soft little gurgle to erupt from the babe's lips and for one moment his little eyes slipped open and starred into Arthur's. Something inside of him turned soft and warm and his heart stopped its jumping and began to flutter gently.
"Alfred."
Francis turned towards him then, his eyes momentarily torn away from the newborn in his own arms. "What did you say?"
Arthur blinked, because he had been so wrapped up in studying the baby's face that he hadn't realized that he had said anything. "Um, Alfred," he repeated as he gently lifted the baby into his arms. It felt quite natural to have him there, his little head pressed against his heart and his soft smell drifting into his nostrils. "I think he should be named Alfred, because… well, he looks like an Alfred."
An approving smile pulled at Francis's lips as his gaze shift back to the other twin. "Yes, Alfred is a fine name," he agreed. "And this little angel shall be called Madeleine."
Arthur smiled, enjoying the sound of that name in his ears. "Madeleine," he repeated, his grin growing wider. "Alfred and Madeleine."
"Alfred and Madeleine Bonnefoy-Kirkland," Francis clarified, still preening over his victory during the coin toss (which had ended only after nine intense rounds of coin flipping).
Not that Arthur really cared. In that moment, the world was far too perfect for anything aside from the two children in their arms to really matter.
--
"Oh Arthur, look at them back there," Francis sighed as he stared wistfully at the two little bundles occupying the backseat. "I think that they might be asleep already."
"I would imagine," he said with forced indifference. "At this age, all they'll be doing is sleeping. That is when they're not eating, pooping, and crying."
Arthur took a moment to smile at the images reflected in his rear view mirror. It was only the fear of being beeped by an impatient driver that helped him to tear his eyes away from the sight of the two infants strapped into the car seats just behind him.
They had been forced to leave the twins at the hospital the day that they had been born in order for the doctors and nurses to run a few more tests on them and the evening that followed was filled with jittery frustration. It was like unwrapping presents on Christmas Eve, only to be told touch them until Christmas day proper. But all the waiting was over now and there was nothing left to stand between them and their babies. It was still so strange and somewhat unreal to know that they were finally taking their children home, that the twins were now completely theirs, but it was a good strange and it made Arthur's skin pepper with happy little goose bumps.
"I cannot wait to get them home," Francis beamed as he settled back into his seat. "We will get to put them in their crib and have them play with their toys and... Oh, all the new little outfits I will have to buy them! And Madeleine. All the cute little dresses I can put her in..."
"Now, remember Francis, they are babies not dollies for you to play dress up with. Besides, do you really think that we'll get a quiet evening at home tonight?"
"What do you mean?"
Arthur sighed as he gently turned onto their street. "Well you know how your mother can be," he said. "She's sure to make a fuss about all of this, especially given how eager she has been about the babies."
"You are being silly," Francis said with a roll of his eyes as they eased into their driveway. "I am sure that Maman knows that we will want to just have some time to enjoy the babies."
Arthur bit his tongue, because the last thing he wanted to was to start an argument in front of their newborns so soon after getting them. Instead he focused on slipping out of the car and gently easing the children out. He grabbed Madeleine's seat, carefully sliding it from the locks and freeing the carriage from the confines of the backseat. Francis followed his lead, delicately removing Alfred from the car with all the care that one would use while handling precious cargo. The two walked steadily towards their house, clutching each child securely in their arms before giving the door a quick rap in the hopes that Madame Bonnefoy would let them in without forcing either of them to dig for their keys.
"This is your new home," Francis whispered to little Alfred and Madeleine, both of whom were still sound asleep. "You are going to meet your grand- mère and she is going to simply love you both."
Arthur began to say something to that, but the lock sliding out of the bolt was just enough to drown out the sound of his muttered words.
"Welcome home, lads!"
Francis yelped and Arthur tried his hardest not to jump at the sight of Wallace standing on the other side of the door holding a camcorder in his hands.
"Wallace!" Arthur cried out as he clutched little Madeleine's car seat against his chest. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Recording this joyous event," Wallace said with a sarcastic chuckle as he took a step closer in order to point the camera's lenses less than an inch away from Arthur's face. "Smile for the camera, Artie! No naughty words now. Remember: your wee ones are listening."
Arthur let out a low growl as he made to bat the camera away, but Wallace saw the gesture coming and quickly stepped back, avoiding the blow completely. He gave another huff, tempted to take another swing at the twinkling lenses in front of him, but reconsidered when Madeleine began to fuss in her seat.
"Oh Wallace, stop playing around," Mummy tsked as she pushed her way past Wallace's bulky form in order to stand in the doorway. "Now move aside and let me have a look at my grandbabies."
"Not before me," Madame Bonnefoy cried out with an indignant huff as she elbowed her way in front of Wallace, who was now bobbing and weaving in order to keep his camera focused on at least one of the twins. "Where are they? Let me have them!"
"Now ladies," Arthur chided gently as he cautiously made his way into the foyer. "There are plenty of babies for both of you to fuss over."
By the time Arthur had maneuvered his way around his mother and mother in law, and past Wallace and his trusty camera, he found his stomach sinking and his cheeks burning at the sight of the full house awaiting him. Gilbert was hogging a tray of hors d'oeuvre and cramming as much of the finger foods into his mouth as possible while Ludwig looked on with a mixture of embarrassment and horror while his boyfriend Feliciano giggled playfully. Antonio chuckled as he kept an arm wrapped around his perturbed looking partner Lovino. Liam and Dylan were sitting on the sofa drinking beer and chatting with Yao, who looked as if he wanted to jump out the nearest open window in order to escape his present company.
Hanging above the small group was a large banner with the words "It's a Boy" in soft blue letters while the phrase "and a Girl!" was crudely attached to the other end. Scattered around them all were what seemed to be dozens of gifts and balloons and tables layered with refreshments. The whole scene was enough to make Arthur's skin crawl as he glanced over at Francis with a look that very plainly said "I told you so."
Of course, Francis was quick to send him his own little look, one that said "Well your mother is just as bad."
"What is all this?" Francis asked hesitantly as glanced over at their mothers.
"A welcome home party for the babes," Wallace piped in as he came up beside Francis and pointed the camera directly at his nose. "By the way, Franny, have I told you that fatherhood really agrees with you?"
"Oh? Do you think so?" he preened.
"Yeah! You're positively glowing."
"Wallace," Arthur warned testily as his mother managed to pry Madeleine's car seat out of his hands.
"Oh, so cute," Mummy cooed as she gently unfastened Madeleine and cradled her in her thin arms. "This one must be Madeleine."
"What was your first clue?" Madame Bonnefoy snipped, likely referring to the newborn's pink and ribbon layered outfit. The comment was enough to earn her a sidelong glance from Mummy, not that it stopped Madame Bonnefoy from removing Alfred from his little seat and holding him against her chest. "Bonjour, mon amor. Je suis votre grand-mère."
"Oh, don't start croaking at the baby already," Mummy huffed wearily.
"Oooh, look at the baby!" Antonio crooned as he eased next to Madame Bonnefoy in order to take a good look at little Alfred. "He's so tiny and cute! Francis you're so lucky."
"Thanks a lot, asshole," Lovino sneered at Arthur while wearing a look that was nearly as seething as his tone. "Now that you two have kids, this bastard's trying to get me to have a baby with him."
"I'm sorry," Arthur muttered, because he truly was. After all, he wasn't sure that any child should be stuck with Antonio or Lovino for a parent, let alone both of them.
"Can I hold one of the babies next?" Feliciano asked as his eyes shifted from Madeleine to Alfred and back again.
"Oh, Feli, I was gonna ask that," Antonio laughed.
"Ay, nobody gets to hold the babies before their uncles," Liam said testily as he peeked over at Madeleine still cradled in the circle of Mummy's arms.
"Aw, Liam," Francis nearly crooned as he gave Liam's arm a steady, yet sincere, pat. "I did not know you liked children."
Liam didn't give much of an answer aside from a few grumbled words and as he glared uncomfortably down at the floor. Arthur watched his brother's discomfort with a wry smile, already knowing full and well that every Kirkland had an inherent weakness for babies.
--
"It was so nice of everyone to come by like that," Francis noted as he gently slipped Alfred's tightly balled fist into the sleeve of a powdered blue stripped pajama set. His efforts were met with a great deal of protest as Alfred continued to struggle against him, causing Francis to stop periodically in order to caress Alfred's little fingers with the back of his thumb and utter a soothing word or two. "All the nice little toys and clothes they gave us..."
"And the truck load of junk Yao unloaded on us," Arthur grumbled as he finished buttoning Madeleine into her mint green sleep suit with the little polar bear etched into the chest.
Francis shrugged, no doubt considering the used toys, worn blankets, and tattered towels that his coworker had given them that afternoon. Arthur had a strong suspicion that Yao's generous nature was due in large part to his desire not to have any more children. Although Arthur highly doubted that simply giving away all of his supplies would do him any good, but Arthur had to admit that he was more than happy to hold it all over his head if Yao ever were to have another child.
Alfred let out an unpleasant gurgle as Francis finished closing up his pajamas. He was quick to gather Alfred into his arms once more in order to give his back a quick pat. It had been a long day and most of the afternoon had been spent watching the twins being passed around and fawned over by friends and relatives as their guests guzzled drinks and packed away most of their food. (Most because, much to Arthur's surprise, many of Mummy's hors d'oeuvre had gone untouched.) Arthur was just grateful that their mothers had stuck around to help them clean up and care for the children.
Now it was time for the babies to be put down to bed and Arthur was feeling more than a bit anxious about their first night at home. He brushed a quick hand over Madeleine's head, the soft tuffs of light blonde hair a welcomed caress against his palm, and Arthur had to wonder if the two would be able to sleep comfortably through the night.
"Do you think these pajamas will be too warm for them?" Francis asked as he tugged gently at the soft fabric wrapped around Alfred's little legs. "After all, it has been terribly warm this summer."
"It'll be fine," Arthur assured him as he gently carried Madeleine over to the crib and carefully settled her down on the bedding below. "I just hope that this mattress is soft enough."
"I hope so too," Francis pouted as he lowered Alfred onto the bed beside Madeleine. "After all, they are such delicate creatures."
"Oh you two," Mummy chided as she wafted into the nursery and walked over to the pair of baby monitors resting on top of the nightstand. They had been a gift from Ludwig and Arthur appreciated them, not only for their practical nature, but for high quality. He was sure the monitors would last through many hectic nights. "Such a pair you are. These babies will be just fine. The best thing that you can do is get some rest and prepare for when they wake for the morning feeding."
She switched on one of the radios, setting it down close to the crib before switching on the other and handing it over to Arthur and walking casually out of the room.
Arthur heaved a heavy sigh as Francis slumped his shoulders. "I suppose there's nothing left for us to do except say goodnight," Arthur groaned as he reached across the crib's polished bars in order to give Alfred's stomach a gentle rub. Madeleine was already fast asleep and breathing evenly, but Alfred seemed to still be clinging stubbornly to the last bit of energy he had in him. "Goodnight little man," he whispered gently, before moving on to Madeleine. "Sweet dreams princess."
Francis blew kisses to the now slumbering twins, whispering sweet words of love to them in French before Arthur turned out the lights and ushered them both out of the room.
They didn't get much sleep that night as both of them kept waking up and wandering into the nursery each time a soft gurgle or coo came in from the other end of the monitor. By two in the morning, Francis and Arthur had both gave up on all attempts at sleeping in the living room and grabbed their pillows and blankets and camped out on the nursery's floor.
--
Seven Months Later...
"Daddy made the two of you something very special. Do you know what it is?"
Arthur held the hardened pastry out in front of the twins, passing it underneath Alfred and then Madeleine's little noses in order for the two to study it carefully with their wide blue eyes. So much time had passed since the twins had come into the world, when they were both small and pink and nearly identical. They were still quite small, but they had grown considerably and seemed more hardy than fragile and while some could mistake one twin for the other, it would only be after a fleeting glance. Upon careful study, one would have a hard time mistaking Madeleine for Alfred or vice versa as Francis was always careful to keep Madeleine's hair, which had grown much longer than her brother's, decorated with bows and clips and any other festive items he might find while Alfred made sure to keep himself caked in enough goop and goo as to never be mistaken for the much neater twin.
Alfred reached a chubby hand towards the biscuit held gently in Arthur's grasp. His little fingers brushed over the flaky crust as he glanced up at Arthur with a surprising amount of confidence in his eyes for a baby and said "Foo," which was as close as any seven month old could get to saying "yummy, delicious food freshly baked from scratch."
"That's right Alfred, scones," Arthur laughed as he tore the scone in his hand into small pieces, handing one chunk to each baby. "Your Papa told me to wait until you were a bit older before giving you any but... well I think your gums are hard enough."
He sat back and watched with great joy and pride as each baby placed the scones to their lips. Madeleine, clutching her piece of scone securely in both hands, gave the biscuit a few quick licks as if to try the flavor out on her tongue, before making a small noise of displeasure and placing it down on the ground.
"Madeleine, don't do that," Arthur tutted gently as he picked the discarded food up and placed it in a napkin. "You have to eat it. You see? Your brother likes it."
Indeed Alfred seemed to have taken to the flavor better than Madeleine and had crammed most of his piece into his mouth and was currently gumming it to the best of his ability.
"What are you doing to the children?" Francis practically demanded as he entered the nursery.
Arthur looked up at Francis as he entered and Arthur suddenly felt quite silly sitting on the plush carpet with his legs tucked under him. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he huffed as he pulled Madeleine onto his lap. "I'm letting the babies try my scones."
"You have poisoned my babies!" Francis cried out dramatically as he fell to his hands and knees and crawled in front of Alfred. Upon seeing that Alfred did in fact still have his piece of scone between his lips, Francis pulled the baby into his lap and began patting his back gently, yet frantically. "Spit it out, mon coeur! Spit it out!"
Alfred gave a small cough before reaching into his own mouth and pulling out the scone. (It was a trick that Alfred had learned after one too many attempts to eat his building blocks.) Alfred gave another cough as if to spit out a bitter flavor, before handing the gooey, spit coated hunk of bread over to Francis.
"Alfred!" Arthur cried out. "That's disgusting."
"At least he did not swallow," Francis breathed as he motioned for Arthur to hand him a napkin.
"Pawpawpaw," Alfred chanted as he studied the way Francis wiped at the palm of his hand.
"Yes, yes, Papa just saved your life," he breathed as he gave Alfred's belly a few quick pats before kissing the top of his head. "No need to thank me."
"I did not poison him you..." Arthur was quick to cut himself off when he remembered the little ears currently occupying the room.
"Oh look, Madeleine fell asleep in your arms," Francis crooned. Sure enough, when Arthur looked down he saw that Madeleine's little head was resting firmly against his chest as soft even puffs of breath escaped her gently parted lips. "It is so cute when she does that," Francis went on as he adjusted Alfred in his arms. "Would you like to take a nap too, mon coeur?"
Alfred responded to the question by wrinkling his brow and blowing angry spit bubbles at them.
Arthur chuckled as he carefully maneuvered himself off of the ground in order to deposit Madeleine into the cradle and drape a blanket over her. Madeleine let out a soft coo before reaching out to cuddle up next to her stuffed polar bear.
"Here," Francis said as he carefully deposited Alfred into Arthur's arms. "You are best at getting him to sleep."
Alfred gave out a frustrated groan, kicking into the air as his face began to turn pink in the wake of oncoming tears. It was almost as if the boy knew what his parents had planned for him.
"There there, Alfie," Arthur crooned as he gave the boy's back a gentle pat. His cheeks were still pink and tears were beginning to roll down his face, but Arthur could tell that his hands rubbing circles in his side were doing some good. "No more fussing now. Time to nap."
"I want to buy Madeleine some new shoes," Francis whispered as he reached into the crib in order to caress one of her soft pigtails. "And perhaps a new dress or two."
"Francis, do we have to have another talk about how the children are not your personal dress up dolls?"
"I know, but it is almost spring," he pouted. "You cannot blame me for wanting to buy a few new outfits for my sweet little girl."
Arthur rolled his eyes at Francis's comment. He briefly wondered what Francis would be like when Madeleine grew older and became less willing to model all sorts of outfits just for his amusement. Of course, those thoughts came to a swift end, because Arthur didn't like to think about Madeleine growing up. He loved his baby girl dearly and cherished every moment with her, but he had no doubt that there would be a load of trouble in their future when she became a pretty young woman. His only comfort was that she would have Alfred around to protect her, but a twin brother could only do so much.
He let out a weary sigh just as Alfred's breathing became quite slow and even. When he looked down he saw that the baby was now sound asleep in his arms and Arthur couldn't help smiling at how innocent he looked. "There, fast asleep," Arthur whispered with a smug smirk as he gently placed Alfred into the crib beside Madeleine.
"Alfred will need some new things, as well," Francis noted in a hushed tone as he pulled a blanket over Alfred's little shoulders. "Some shoes, a new suit, a few pairs of pants..."
"Francis," Arthur chided gently, but he knew that there was no stopping Francis when he was in this sort of mood.
"Oh Arthur, I know that we are on a budget, but they so cute and they grow so quickly." He watched as Francis leaned heavily against the cradle's railing in order to get a better look at the sleeping twins. "It seems like just yesterday that they were the tiny little things we brought home from the hospital. Now they have nearly doubled in size. Pretty soon they will be walking, going to school..."
"Francis you are not going to trick me into letting you go on a shopping spree by getting me all sentimental."
"You mean that trick already does not work anymore?" Francis pouted.
"Afraid not. I've out grown it."
Francis continued to pout as Arthur tugged on his elbow and gently pulled him away from the crib. Of course they didn't get very far as both of their eyes were still fixed to the sleeping faces just a few steps away. "What did this room used to be?"
"You mean before we made it into a nursery?" Arthur asked as Francis gave a quick nod. "It was a guest room."
"Oh yes. I remember now," he hummed as he looked around the room casually. "We did not get to do much in terms of decorating. Only putting in that old futon and a floor lamp. It seems like ages ago."
"Remember when we started painting?"
"We?"
"Good lord, how many coats of paint have these walls seen? I remember seeing swatches of yellow paint in my sleep for months!"
"And the hell we went through to put all this furniture together," Francis tsked as he eyed the changing table with a wary eye.
"The hell we went through to get them," Arthur muttered.
He felt his heart twist and his throat tighten at the memory of those trying times when their days had been filled with nothing but frustration and self loathing. It was still hard to believe that they had made it through all that pain. Those first few nights after they brought the babies home had been nothing short of dreamlike. Arthur would often wake up in the morning half expecting the twins to disappear from their bed and during the day he kept thinking that their real parents would come round to take them home.
He stiffened slightly as Francis wrapped his fingers around his elbow, giving him a comforting squeeze before pressing a kiss to Arthur's cheek. Arthur reached out a hand to brush against Francis's knuckles and he had to admit he was starting to feel a slight sting in the back of his eyes.
"I suppose… well, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to pick up a few things for the twins," he said with a shrug. "They have been outgrowing all their old things and Alfred certainly does know how to attract stains."
Francis hummed pleasantly in his ear before pressing another kiss to Arthur's cheek. "I knew I could get you to say yes."