Arthur started awake when he heard the clatter of dishes and cooking implements coming from the first floor. This would not have seemed so strange to him, had the Frenchman he shared a bed with not been present. But Francis was still fast asleep, one arm draped across the his waist, holding him securely.

"Oi Frog." Arthur said as he shook his husband's shoulder. "Francis, wake up. "

The Frenchman slowly came to a groggy awareness as his vision adjusted to a view of his favorite Englishman.

"Ah, bonjour mon petit lapin." He said as he reached up to pull Arthur back down to him. "Sleep well?"

As Francis brought him closer and gave Arthur a good morning kiss that only his French frog could give, The Brit nearly forgot why he had woken the man up in the first place. He pulled away abruptly, leaving Francis to raise an eyebrow.

"Oui, something wrong cheri?"

"I think someone's in the house." He stated firmly. Francis blinked at him

"Well, we should go look then, non?" He replied calmly as he slipped out from beneath the covers. Arthur followed suit.

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. They both had many friends and more than a few of them had either acquired a key, knew where the spare was, or was just too damn good at picking locks.

Arthur slipped on his robe and threw a shirt to Francis, silently indicating that they shouldn't be too horribly indecent when they greeted their unexpected guest...or guests, whichever the case may be. That done, they plodded down the stairs and into the kitchen, where most people they knew liked to congregate.

"Hey, mornin' dudes!" The two men stood in the doorway of their kitchen and stared for a moment.

"Alfred...what are you doing here?" Francis asked.

"And Matthew too." Arthur added as he saw the Canadian peek his head out of the pantry and give a shy smile.

"What'd ya mean 'what are we doin' here?' It's Mother's day!" The American said brightly. Francis and Arthur exchanged a glance. It wasn't as if they didn't see their two boys often, but this was nothing short of a surprise.

"Mattie's makin' Pancakes for breakfast." Alfred said, a large grin forming on his face just at the thought of food.

"And you came along just to eat, I take it?" Arthur asked as he and Francis sat down at the breakfast bar.

"No." The American said with a huff. "I happen to have picked out the gifts."

Francis and Arthur exchanged another glance.

"Gifts, as in plural?" The Frenchman asked.

This time the two younger boys looked to one another. Matthew spoke up first.

"You see...we couldn't decide which one of you was more mother-like. We kind of figured it was a draw."

"How so?" Francis asked as Alfred set his coffee and Arthur's tea on the table, miraculously not spilling a drop.

"Well, the mom typically does the cooking." The American began, looking to his Papa. "But she also, in theory, does a lot of the cleaning." And he turned to Arthur.

"But you both have, um...feminine tendencies, you know, sometimes." They both looked to Matthew.

"Really?" They said in unison. Alfred let another big grin spread over his face.

"Oh yeah, totally! At first I was sure that Dad would be considered the mom because well, you embroider dude and drink tea and garden and have this thing for nagging." Arthur began to retort, face flushing with anger and annoyance, but settled for a huff as the American continued. "Buuuuuut, Mattie brought up some good points about Papa too."

At this Francis looked curiously to the boy manning the Pancake griddle.

"Oh he did, did he?" Matthew just gave another shy smile.

"For sure! Like how much product you use for your hair or how you dress and how long it takes you to get dressed. You take forever to pick out an outfit man. I mean come on, you get ManiPedi's and your hair's even long like a chicks!"

"Matthew's hair is long." The Frenchman retorted, waving a hand towards the Canadian as he brought plates, silverware and a plate of pipping hot Pancakes.

"Let me get the syrup..." He mumbled as the others went on.

"So in short," Alfred said as he finished pinpointing every feminine aspect of the two men's lives. "We, me and Matt, have concluded that you're both girly enough to be called mom."

Francis was just utterly dumbfounded. Him, girly!? Arthur on the other hand just began calmly fixing his pancakes with butter and syrup.

"Thank you boys, that is very sweet of you." Alfred and Matthew beamed as Francis turned to the Brit, eyebrow raised.

"You're...ok with that?"

"Er, yes I am. Are you not?" Francis looked back at their boys, and after a few moments gave a sigh of resignation. Yes, he was slightly taken aback at being called girly or feminine. Yes, It was not the first time, but his own boys? But he knew that it was out of love and that they meant well. And if Arthur, Arthur Kirkland. Hot headed, short tempered, too incredibly proud Arthur Kirkland could accept such a title as mom with so much ease, then certainly he could as well.

The rest of their morning meal was spent with the four men catching up with one another and when the dishes were washed dried and put away gifts were given.

"I picked yours out Dad." Matthew said as he offered Arthur a wrapped package containing a new gardening book that he would be pleasantly happy to put to use come spring.

"And this one's for you Pops!" Alfred said cheerfully, shoving a different box into the Frenchman's arms. Francis unwrapped it and was surprised to find a book of his own,.The Hobbit (One of his and Arthur's favorites) translated into French.

"Merci." He said sweetly and Alfred tried to run when he saw that look in his Papa's eyes. Too slow. Him and his brothers were both caught in a crushing hug.

"And you seriously thought I was more mom than you frog?" Arthur commented and chuckled lightly.

At the end of the day their boys returned to their own homes, leaving the Brit and the Frenchman alone in their house once again.

"That was rather interesting."Arthur said as he sat in bed after dinner, leafing through his new book.

Francis pulled back the covers and slipped in as well. His own novel waiting on the night stand. He would begin it in the morning.

"Oui, indeed it was."

Arthur smirked a bit to himself. After the boys had left he had caught his husband in the bathroom counting, actually counting just how many hair care products he used, and he was sure he had gone through his wardrobe as well.

"Kind of hard to swallow the truth, isn't it love?" The Englishman teased.

"How did you not feel the same?" Francis asked exasperatedly as he plopped down right next to the smaller man's side. "You managed that as if you really were a mom."

"Well I was...and so were you."

The older man looked up with a confused look, and urged Arthur to explain. "We both raised those boys from a very young age, and I personally think we raised them rather well. It honestly doesnt matter to me what I'm referred to as, mom or dad. It's the thought and appreciation that really counts."

"Oh and you thought I was more mom?" Francis said, taking in Arthur's deep reasoning He leaned in and stole a kiss. "But on that particular subject, I will have to agree that you're right."

Smugly pleased with himself Arthur shut his book and placed it and his reading glasses on his night stand before switching off the light.

"Good night mother dearest." The Brit said with a yawn as he snuggled up close to his husband.

"Bonne nuit mère, mon amour." And with that came a peaceful sleep.