Chapter One: Playdate
Are we there yet?"
Arthur sighed. Again. Gosh that kid was annoying. "No, Alfred."
"…How 'bout now?"
Matthew giggled slightly at his brother's antics and Arthur was very much tempted to call him a traitor. Instead, he whirled around and glared at the hyper, annoying, yet completely adorable (so far, his only redeeming quality) seven year old in the back of his mini-van.
"Look around, Alfred. Does it look like we're there yet? Honestly, I wasn't lying the first five times I told you!"
Alfred pouted into his juice box and leaned back into his seat, glaring at the back of his caretaker's head. Just for good measure, he reached over with his foot and kicked the back of Arthur's chair, then looked out of the window innocently.
Arthur spun his head around again (he was going to get whiplash like this) and glared at his back seat, which was filled to the brim with toddlers and preschoolers of all ages, nationalities, and personalities. James was asleep and leaning on Matthew, who was playing with his hair, Alfred was making faces at passing cars and Jack was giving him bunny ears or devil horns or something.
"Who did that?"
All the children (including James, who had just woken up) turned to look at their adopted father and raised an eyebrow.
"Did what?"
Arthur glared childishly. "Don't play dumb, brats. One of you kicked my chair. Who was it?"
All of them looked at each other, then back at Arthur and shrugged.
"I will turn this car around, young men! It does not hurt me to have you all miss your little play date and I will not take you ungrateful brats if you don't tell me who did it!"
Matthew gave a meek cough and then pointed to Alfred. "U-um…H-he did it, s-sir."
Arthur sighed, sending a stressed and tired glance to his youngest son. "Matthew, I told you to call me 'daddy'. And Alfred, no dessert."
Alfred stuck out his tongue at him. "Whatever, I'll just get some from Mattie 'cause I'm his favorite, right Mattie?"
"U-uhmm…"
James glared and pulled Matthew, who was sitting in his lap and holding his stuffed polar bear, tighter too him. "No. I'm his favorite."
Jack laughed loudly and wrapped an arm around James shoulder and poked Matthew's cheek.
"Yeah right! Keep dreamin', kiwi-breath! Pancake is totally mine!"
James pushed his brother's arm off him and glared at him, then looked down at Matthew expectantly, as did everyone. Matthew whimpered and began crying from the indecision and the pressure put on him. James turned him around and hugged him, letting the smaller boy cry on his shoulder, and glared at the other two older boys. "Great, you made him cry! I hope that makes you feel awful, jerks!"
Jack stuck his tongue out and Al gave Matthew a sympathetic look and took his bear. "H-hey, Matt…Mattie, don't cry…H-here, look! Your bear! That usually makes you happy, right?"
Matthew picked himself up from James's shirt and when he saw his forgotten stuffed bear in Al's hands, he glared and snatched it from him. He glared at him for a bit more before hiding in James's shirt again and mumbling, "James's my favorite".
Jack and Al pouted for a second before sending each other a look and smirking. Jack wrapped his arm around James's shoulders again and smirked. "But I'm your favorite, right kiwi?"
"No. And if your arm goes around my shoulder again, I'll sew it to your side, got it, dirt monkey?"
Jack snorted and pulled him closer, poking his cheek and making fun of his eyebrows and that random curl that he said looked like a sheep's horn; which didn't make much sense considering he had the same eyebrows and had two crazy curls. Of course, when James brought this up, he was given a noogie. Which led to Jack having an elbow painfully shoved in his stomach and he had to let go of his brother before he passed out.
"Luk! Why do we have to walk! Abriam complained loudly for the umpteenth time.
"Honestly, Abraim," Lukas finally responded in his usual monotone, "We don't live that far from the park."
"But we've been walking for ages!" Abriam exclaimed, dragging his feet on the sidewalk.
Lukas stifled a sigh and returned to ignoring the boy. He hadn't always been a patient man, but when his mother died suddenly two years ago, he had no choice but to take on his four younger brothers. He would never have forgiven himself if he let them be separated. Raising the four young children had indeed taught him much patience.
"B' qui't." Berwald mumbled, glaring at his younger brother.
"Why don't you make me!" Abriam challenged.
"P-please don't fight!" Tino begged, tugging at Berwald's shirt sleeve.
Emil, the youngest and by far the quietest of the group, just watched silently.
"Enough." Lukas said, "We are almost there. Don't ruin the fun for your brothers."
Though he hadn't raised his voice at all, none of the boys could mistake his tone.
Abriam crossed his arms and grumbled, but discontinued his argument with Berwald none the less.
"S'rry." Berwald muttered, not looking sorry at all.
Lukas just grunted in acknowledgement and continued walking.
The five of them made their way around the corner, and across the street was the park.
"Hold hands." Lukas muttered; taking Emil's in his right and Tino's in his left.
This of course left Berwald and Abriam in a fix, as neither wanted to hold the others hand. Berwald, who always at least attempted civility when Lukas was around, held out his hand to Abriam, who promptly slapped it away.
"I'm not holding his hand!" The boy declared stubbornly.
Lukas left Emil and Tino, apprehended Abriam by the arm, and led the boy a little ways away. Kneeling down to his level, Lukas had to turn the Abriam's head to look at him.
"I will not be putting up with your little attitude today." Lukas told him firmly, though his voice didn't really seem to change, "If you don't shape up, I will give you something to complain about. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, brother." Abriam answered, looking a bit upset.
"Good." Lukas muttered, standing and walking back to the others, Abriam's hand firmly in his own. Lukas took up Emil's hand in his other and turned to Berwald.
"Berwald, please hold Tino's hand as we cross the street."
Berwald grunted in agreement, looking rather pleased with the turn of events, and took his younger brother's hand into his own. And then the group of five finally walked across the street and into the park.
Lukas led the four children to the agreed upon meeting place. He had no idea who he was looking for, but he had been told by the children that it would be a man, much like himself, who also had four boys.
"Oh look, there they are!" Tino exclaimed excitedly, pointing to Arthur's car as it pulled into the Park.
As soon the four disgruntled children climbed out of the car, a cry of excitement met their ears. All eyes went immediately to the four children on the other side of the park who were running towards them, waving at them, and calling their names. Their eyes lit up and they all smiled at the boys and looked up at Arthur for permission to go ahead. Arthur chuckled and nodded.
"Go play, boys."
The boys gasped and immediately ran out to their friends, Alfred being the fastest. He quickly ran to Abriam and gave him a flying tackle-hug, which was reciprocated with a laugh, though he had to take a few steps back to hold the younger boys weight. Jack soon joined them, turning it into a group hug, which was mocked by James and scoffed at by Berwald. Tino, after scolding Berwald for being so mean to his brother, smiled and hugged James, who wrapped his legs around Tino's waist so he could reach Berwald's head to ruffle his hair playfully. Matthew and Emil were the only ones that walked to each other and both blushed lightly before giving each other a small hug.
Honestly, Arthur had never seen his children so happy.
As the children talked and began the small hike up to where the playground was, Arthur walked over to a park bench and sat down heavily. He let his eyes close with a sigh and smiled, glad for at least a little bit of a break.
"Nice driving."
Break's over.
Arthur scowled, but didn't open his eyes as he heard another join him on the bench.
"Thanks. I try really hard to drive like James Bond. Puts a little bit of excitement in my day, ya know?"
Lukas smirked, not that Arthur would know, and leaned back, watching his brothers playing and fighting. He really should tell them to stop hitting each other, but that would require getting up. And he really didn't want to do that right now.
"Oh really? Maybe I should try that next time I take the car somewhere. Though, I'm pretty sure that's the equivalent of letting Abriam drive."
Arthur hummed a reply and tried really, really, really hard to overcome his curiosity to who Abriam was.
"Which one's that?"
Dang it.
Lukas, upon seeing one of Arthur's bright green eyes open slightly, pointed to one of the taller children, one with spiked hair and vibrant blue eyes. And... a cape?
Arthur slowly let his other eye open and sat forward so he could get a better look at the small boy.
"Is he wearing a… cape?"
Lukas chuckled slightly into his fist, "Yes. I tried to get him to wear something normal, but he insisted that 'Alfie' wouldn't recognize him without it. Honestly, there is no getting through to that child."
Arthur laughed, leaning back and looking over at Lukas.
"I know what you mean. That one right there", he pointed to Jack, "Woke me up with a blow horn! Then, he", he pointed to Alfred, "Came downstairs in a cowboy costume just before we were about to leave! I had to rush just to get here!"
Lukas nodded, "What about the other two?"
Arthur smiled fondly, "Those two are my little angels. Matthew", he pointed to said boy, who was being pushed on the swing by James, though it looked like Jack and Alfred were sneaking up behind him. "Never yells, never gets into fights, and never interrupts. He's the perfect child. James, though", he pointed again to a taller boy with blond, unruly hair. "Absolutely hates Jack. Not that Jack cares. Alfred and Matthew argue sometimes, but it's usually solved before I can even get there."
Lukas smiled slightly. They continued to talk, trying to ignore the sounds of their children playing, fighting, and generally being… children.
Meanwhile, Jack grabbed James under the arms and carried him away from the swing as Alfred pushed Matthew out and jumped into the now empty seat swiftly. Matthew fell on his head and began crying, while James kicked Jack in his unmentionables and ran to pick Matthew up and carry him away from the other two before he could be accidentally kicked by Alfred as he swung. Arthur considered stepping in, but he didn't really feel like getting up.
At the same time, Abriam and Berwald were having an arm wrestling competition; Tino was cheering Berwald on. Emil had been watching Matthew swing with a sad expression, until he was pushed out. Then he glared and let go of Tino's hand. Emil stomped over to the other boys, kicked dirt into Jack's face, and pushed Alfred out of the swing. Alfred whined while Jack attempted to yell at Emil while rubbing dirt out of his eyes. Emil smirked in a 'mission completed' kinda way before bouncing off, his parting words being, "Karma, what'cha gonna do?"
Lukas thought the whole situation was rather humorous himself, though most people wouldn't be able to detect the smirk he was still wearing. Arthur, on the other hand, still seemed to be debating whether he should attempt to sort it out or not.
James and Matthew joined Emil on the other side of the jungle gym.
"T-thanks for sticking up for me." Matthew half-whispered shyly.
"Of course!" James said, with a little more force than he would normally use, causing Matthew to jump slightly. Jack really grinded his gears.
"Yeah, those guys were being jerks!" Emil added fiercely.
Meanwhile, Jack was rubbing at his eyes furiously, trying to get the dirt out. He swore and stamped his feet when it didn't seem to do any good. That was when Arthur decided to get up.
"There's no call for such language." Arthur scolded, walking over to him, "Heaven knows wherever you learned a word like that!"
"From you." Alfred giggled, standing nearby. Arthur looked at the boy; the look on his face made him want to smack the fire out him, but he ignored it.
"Come along, then. We'll go wash it out in the loo, um," Arthur realized that he couldn't very well leave the other three boys unattended. Darn. He turned to the only available option he had at the moment, the handsome blonde man still sitting on the bench watching his own brood. Wait. Had he just thought handsome? Arthur mentally shook himself as he walked back towards the bench.
"Uh, would you mind... watching my kids while I take Jack to the lavatory?" Arthur inquired. He hoped the man would say yes. What was his name again? He didn't want to drag all four boys along with him if he didn't have to.
"Sure." Lukas said, not really sure why he was agreeing.
"Brilliant. Thank you, "Arthur beamed in spite of himself, "We'll be along shortly." He led Jack, still rubbing at his eyes and whining annoyingly, to the lavatory on the other side of the park.
Lukas watched the man leave with the boy, and couldn't help but notice the way his hips swayed when he walked. He watched the seven remaining boys play for about ten minutes- luckily no more injury inducing squabbles broke out- and then the man was back with his son, who looked as if he'd just gotten a good scolding.
"Thanks." Arthur said brusquely not sitting back down, "But it's late and we'll be heading home now."
Arthur sighed as he dragged his sniffling son over two the playground. He walked over to Alfred who was "slaying" a "dragon" while the boy called Abriam was "saving" two reluctant "damsels" (aka, Matthew and Emil). Tino was holding back a steaming James, and Berwald was teasing Abriam about how he couldn't save a fly.
Arthur sighed again (One day he'll run out of breath to exhale. That'll be the day) and grabbed Alfred up by the back of the shirt, and slung him whining and complaining over his shoulder.
"C'mon lads, time to go."
James pouted and Tino let him go, "Aww, but Uncle Artie-"
"No 'but's."
Matthew got up and dusted off his pants and looked up at his father with large pleading purple eyes, "We were having fun. Can we stay a little longer? Pwease?"
Arthur tried to resist those beautiful eyes, he really did. In the book of parenting, he would have been given a medal. But, unfortunately, one can only stand such cuteness for so long before giving in. In Arthur's defense, he stayed strong 'til the bottom lip started quivering, then he gave up.
Arthur exhaled loudly and slumped, setting Alfred back on the ground. He crouched down to his son's eye level, giving them a stern look. "Ten minutes. That's it. No fights, no argument, and maybe I'll take you on another play date."
Matthew smiled up happily at his father and swung his arms around his neck, giving him a small kiss on the cheek, making his father smile.
"Thanks, Daddy!"
Arthur nodded, beaming, and walked back to the bench, where the man from before was smirking up at him.
Arthur scowled, "What?"
Lukas looked away innocently, "Nothing."
Arthur scoffed, "Liar."
Lukas looked back over at him, "You just got played. By your son."
Arthur's eyes widened, but then narrowed as he glared hatefully at him,"Liar."
Lukas brought a hand to his mouth as he let out a small chuckle, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? No, it's just that, whether you realize it or not, that little boy has you wrapped around his finger."
Arthur pouted, "Does not."
"Now that's just childish."
Arthur crossed his arms and looked away, still pouting, "Yeah, well, when you live with two or three rascals half the time, and missing them the other half, you tend to gain a little bit of their attitude."
He looked over at Lukas, "Aren't you the same, uh…"
Lukas smiled, "Lukas. And they're not my sons, they're my brothers."
When Arthur's eyebrow went up in a silent question, he sighed and reluctantly told him, "Our mother died a few years ago. We'd always been together, ever since Father left. So, when she died, I couldn't let us be separated. I've been taking care of them ever since."
Arthur's frown went sympathetic and he patted Lukas on the shoulder, "I'm so sorry. That must have been hard."
Lukas nodded and an awkward silence passed over them; Arthur was the first to break it.
"So, Lukas, who's who? Of your brothers, I mean."
Lukas smiled faintly as he pointed to each of his siblings. "Abriam is the one you know. He's nine, loves red and hates Berwald, for whom the emotion is mutual. Berwald is ten and extremely protective of Tino, who either doesn't mind or doesn't notice. Tino's eight but he's probably the most mature out of the four. Emil is my youngest brother. He's five and you wouldn't know he had a voice if he didn't use it to beg for 'Mattie' every five seconds. He's incredibly smart and can already read a bit. But that's thanks to Tino, who reads to him every night."
Arthur hummed and nodded, then pointed to his children. "The smallest, and youngest at six, is Matthew. He's really quiet and sweet, but he gets incredibly aggressive when someone touches his stuffed bear... or he watches hockey. Honestly, it's scary. Alfred is his twin brother. He's really rowdy and never runs out of energy. The only one who can calm him down is Matt. He's constantly happy, but likes to pick on Jack, who is eight. Jack is their cousin and James is his younger brother. James, at seven, is always at war with him, but other than that is my other angel child. James and Matthew get along quite well, and Matt always has the bear that James gave him. Although, he can never remember its' name."
Lukas nodded and sighed, sitting back in his seat, "It's getting late."
Arthur nodded, looking up at the retreating sun and darkening sky, "I think that's our cue to head home." Lukas nodded and they both got up. As Lukas stretched, Arthur rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I guess I'll see you around, huh."
Lukas smirked again, "Most definitely." He pulled out a piece of paper with a number written on it and handed it to Arthur who examined it curiously, "Call me next time you want to have a play date, okay?"
Arthur blushed and nodded, then watched the man walk over to his children, hypnotized by the sway in his hips, but ran to catch up with him when he realized he had kids of his own to get.
If possible, the walk home had been even worse than the walk to the park. Abiram, of course, complained the entire time, Tino had to go to the bathroom, and even Emil whined of tiredness and hunger. By the time the five brothers made it home, Lukas had decided that, despite the short distance, he would drive the next time they went to the park.
"Abriam, corner, now, " Lukas said as soon as they walked in the door.
"But whyyy– Ouch!" Abriam whined, eyes tearing slightly, as he was silenced with a firm swat on his backside.
Lukas, with a look that left no room for argument, responded curtly, "Don't "why" me. Do as you're told."
Abriam, understanding that disobedience now would lead to a more painful punishment later, did as he was told. He stood in the pre-determined spot, one hand wiping his tears and the other rubbing at his bottom. Truthfully, he had not been swatted hard, but Abriam was a real crybaby when it really came down to it.
The swift chastisement caused a reaction in his other three brothers as well. Tino, on his way to the bathroom, had turned around at the sound of the slap and gasped. Even Emil, who had never been smacked in his life, took a step away from Lukas. Berwald on the other hand, grunted in satisfaction.
"Would you like one as well?" Lukas asked him, in all seriousness.
Berwald, with a look of surprise, quickly shook his head no, "S'rry." He muttered hastily.
"I don't care what your brother does or says, you aren't to make fun of him in any way, " Lukas scolded him, "Understood?"
Berwald nodded, a scowl obvious on his face, but said nothing more; Lukas chose to ignore it.
"Alright, you two can either help me make dinner or watch television quietly in the living room. It's too late to take out any toys or games."
Normally, Emil would have gladly helped Lukas make dinner, but was still a little upset after his brother's shortness with Abriam. So the two boys went to the living room to see what was on TV, and Lukas headed into the kitchen to make a quick dinner.
Lukas looked to the corner to make sure that Abriam really was standing there as he walked into the kitchen, which where is where the time-out corner was located, as Lukas often like to sit in kitchen drinking coffee at all hours of the day; though never with dinner. The boy was fidgeting and sighing and kicking his feet, but at least he was still standing with his nose in the corner; Lukas considered this a success.
He opened the fridge and tried to decide what would be the fastest for him to make. After looking through his choices, a fresh salad seemed best. Lukas took out spinach, lettuce, carrots, and cucumbers to make the base and set to work chopping it all just right. Then he dunked the whole thing in an ice bath to chill while he set the table with little bowls of different nuts, cheeses and fruits to top the salad with.
Only after he finished did Lukas remember Abriam in the corner. The boy was being entirely too quiet, which made Lukas suspect that Abriam'd snuck away while he wasn't looking. Surprisingly, the boy was still standing in the corner. Well, sort of. Abriam had fallen asleep and was leaning heavily on the wall; it had been a long day for all of them.
Lukas walked over to the boy and gently roused him, "It's time to wash up for dinner." He said calmly.
Abriam blinked awake, and just stared at him blankly for a moment, "Are... are you still angry with me?" he asked.
Lukas sighed, "I'm not angry. Next time behave yourself, or you'll be staying home with a sitter while everyone else has fun without you." He said.
The boy nodded furiously, believing every word of the empty threat, and went to wash up for dinner. Lukas smiled slightly to himself and went to tell his other brothers that dinner was ready. He found Berwald, Tino, and Emil snuggled together on the couch watching a program about animals in Africa.
"Alright boys, dinner is ready. Go wash up," He said.
They turned off the television without complaint and happily did as they were told; they hadn't eaten since lunch, after all.
Five minutes later, the five of them sat together at the dinner table.
Dinner was a rather cheery affair, as all of the children loved being able to pick what went on their salads. Abriam, having a sweet tooth, added chopped fruits to his; Berwald preferred nuts, and Tino liked cheese. Emil would always copy Lukas's salad exactly (yet he claimed he wasn't angrily if anyone pointed it out).
After dinner the boys really needed a bath, but it was already late and Lukas knew better than to put them all in the tub at once, so he decided it could wait until morning. Instead he just made sure they all had their faces washed and teeth brushed, and sent them to bed.
Abriam, already tired, fell asleep immediately. But Berwald and Emil stayed up to listen to Tino read a bedtime story. Once the story was over, Lukas made sure the three were tucked in, and he had the rest of the evening to himself.
As he drew water for a calming bath to soak in, Lukas's mind drifted to the man from the park. Arthur was his name, he recalled.
"Arthur," he muttered without really thinking about the fact that he was speaking out loud. As he got into the tub, he couldn't stop thinking about the man and his beautiful face. Well, Lukas amended, it would be beautiful, if he did something about those horrible bushy eyebrows.
Arthur quickly gathered up all his kids (aka, threw Alfred over his shoulder, carried Jack under his arm, and glared at James and Matthew until they finally picked up and headed to the car) and got them in their car. They were all hungry, tired, and sweaty from a full day of playing, fighting, and having fun, so about halfway home, they all fell asleep. Well, everyone except Jack.
"Jack, you should really go to sleep. You must be tired."
Jack nodded, a determined look on his face. "But if I go to sleep, then no one will watch over the others. What if the car crashes? What if you fall asleep?"
Arthur frowned. How could he have such little faith in him? "We won't crash because I'll be awake because I'll be watching over you and the others."
Jack pouted. "But-"
"No arguments, just go to sleep. You need to rest."
When Jack continued to look skeptical, Arthur turned to him. "You know, Jackie, little boys who don't get enough sleep don't grow up big and tall. You'll be shorter than James."
That got him. Jack scowled and quickly laid back down, mumbling challenges and curses aimed at James. Arthur was tempted to lecture him about cursing and how wrong it was (here by using the "do as I say, not as I do" rule), but settled instead for concentrating on the road and keeping thoughts of a certain violet eyed blonde out of his head, lest he go off daydreaming and really crash the car.
When they got home, Arthur unpacked the car (carrying four sleepy children inside was not an easy task) and dumped them on the couch, then moved into the kitchen. It took him all of five minutes of browsing the fridge before he remembered he couldn't cook. He groaned and trudged back into the living room.
He took a second to admire his sleeping children, all (for the moment anyway) peaceful and beautiful, like young angels. Then, he smirked evilly as he thought up the hilarious possible ways to wake up his "angels".
Suddenly, he got an idea.
Running up stairs and into Jacks room, he searched for the item. If I was Jack, where would I hide something, thought Arthur. It took him seconds to figure it out. James room.
Rushing to the end of the hall (the farthest room from Jacks, as was needed. Mostly because if their rooms were too close, someone was going to suffer, and it wasn't James.), Arthur searched under James bed (the one place James never looked because of his intense fear of monsters), quickly finding object among many of Arthurs missing magazines, shoes, and recipes (he would be talking about those with Jack later).
He then ran downstairs, stood in front of the couch, and blew the blow horn.
"GAH!"
"MAPLE!"
"JACK, TURN THAT OFF!"
"SHUT UP, KIWI BREATH, ITS NOT ME!"
The four kids looked around wildly before seeing Arthur, smirking evilly at them.
"That's for this morning, brats. Now hop up and make yourself diner."
"Wah, Artie, I dun wanna make my own food!", Alfred wined burying himself in a pillow.
"Its either you make it or I do. Which do you prefer?", Arthur retorted with a sneer.
Immediately, every kid jumped off the couch and dragged themselves to the kitchen. Once upon a time ago, Arthur would have been offended, but now he was just used to it.
Matthew grabbed a stepping stool for him to stand on so he could reach the counter as James climbed up on the counter and opened the cabinet that held the skillet and handed it to Matthew, who pulled it in and called for Jack, who was asleep on the counter but quickly woke up at his name, to get a bowl, spoon, and pancake mix (the one without eggs so he could eat the batter). Alfred, in the meantime, was heating up leftover hamburgers in the microwave and trying to balance a spoon on his nose with Jack blowing it off in his downtime.
Arthur watched this for a minute before getting a kettle of tea ready, grabbing himself a box of truffles, and heading into his room, where he would take a shower and read until his sons alerted him that his tea was done.
At least, that was what he planned, until he heard a crash, a scream, crying, and someone yelling for him. It took him mere seconds to speed downstairs and figure out what was going on.
Matthew was lying on the floor, pancake mix all over his body, and broken glass surrounding him everywhere. He was holding his hand against his chest and crying into James's shirt, who was rocking him and looking up at Arthur worriedly. Alfred was trying to pry Matthew's hand from him and Jack was unplugging and moving the skillet, which was teetering on the edge of the counter, while cleaning up the mess.
Arthur rushed over and picked up Matthew, looking at his hand, which had a large cut across it, but luckily no glass inside, "What happened, lad?"
"I-I f-fell a-a-and…" the rest of his words were drowned out by tears. Arthur rocked him and sung to him to calm him down as he carried him to the bathroom. He sat his crying son on the edge of the bath tub and cleaned his wound with alcohol before putting Band-Aids over it and wrapping it in gauze.
"Don't move it too much, m'kay? And no more standing on the stool; wait until your older to cook, okay?"
Matthew pouted. "B-but I l-like cooking-g…can I sit on the counter and cook?"
Arthur thought it over and reluctantly nodded, knowing that Matthew would shun him for a week if he didn't allow him some form of cooking. The boy was practically a protégé chef in the making.
Matthew beamed and jumped off of the bath tub, happily skipping into the kitchen, beloved stuffed bear in his arms. Matthew was immediately bombarded by his cousins and brothers, worried over him and his hand. But most importantly, they forbid him from cooking.
"Al, move. I've gotta get to the kitchen."
Alfred shook his head. "Nope. You're not goin' in there. Not after what happened to your hand. What if the pan fell? I'm not gonna let you go back in. Jamie, you cook. Jackie…" Jack was clearly wiped out, as he had fallen asleep standing up, leaning against a chair. "Never mind. Anyway, the only think you gotta do is relax and get better. And not move anything with your hand."
Matthew pouted, but nodded and walked over to the couch and grabbed the remote control, channel surfing until it landed on SpongeBob.
An hour later, Matthew was carried ("Cut my hand, Al, not my feet.") into the kitchen and sat in a chair, where he was argued over and babied and was not allowed to feed himself ("Seriously, it's not that bad. I can still move it. It's just a little scratch." "Little scratches don't make puddles of blood and they don't make strong people like you cry." "Yeah, Mattie, just let us baby you a bit, til we get bored~!"). By the end of the meal, Matthew was bright red, thoroughly embarrassed, and wasn't speaking to anyone.
Meanwhile, Jack had fallen asleep in his pancakes more than once, Al had eaten all his food, Jacks food, and the majority of Matthews as well, and James had been feeding Matthew all night. Arthur was sipping tea in between scolding Al, teasing Matthew and James, and pulling Jack's hair to wake him.
Finally, after all the plates were cleaned and put in the dishwasher, the kids headed upstairs for the bathroom.
"I wanna take a shower first!" Jack said, sticking his tongue out at James, who was a clean freak and always got the bathroom first.
"No, me first."
"Aww, Artie, do we hav' toooo?", Alfred whined, big blue eyes staring up at Arthur pleadingly.
"No, Alfred, I just kidding when I told you to take a bath. Silly me for thinking you'd catch the joke," Arthur deadpanned.
Alfred silently stared up at Arthur for a second before Matthew (who was being carried AGAIN by James, who seemed to think that Matthew had lost a leg, not cut his hand) piped in with a sigh and an annoyed, "That was sarcasm, Al. And put me down, Jamie!"
James smirked at the French-Canadian's blush. "No, you look cute when you blush. And if we all want to take a bath first-"
"But I don't!", Alfred interrupted angrily.
"-If we all want to take a bath first, why don't we just take a bath at the same time?"
Arthur hummed into his coffee in approval. Whatever would get them in bed quicker and without bloody noses. He calmly walked to his room, throwing a, "Be in bed by ten or I make breakfast!", over his shoulder before he shut his door, leaving the four children in silence.
For approximately a minute.
"Ew, Jamie, we can't take a bath together! We're related!", Matthew whined.
"So? We're all dudes. You don't got nuthin I ain't got.", Jack said as he kicked the ajar door open, stripped his shirt, and started the water.
Matthew blanched and made a dash for his bedroom (having been set down so James could smack Alfred, who was wolf-whistling and teasing Jack, upside the head), but was intercepted by Jack and Alfred who dragged him back.
"C'mon, you guys! You aren't serious right?"
"We're as serious as a heart attack, Mattie~ Ya gots ta get clean somehow."
Matthew, as a last resort, pouted in James direction, knowing that James always did have a sweet spot for him, "Help me, Jamie!"
James looked torn for a minute, then just turned around and turned the faucet off.
"It's done. Get in."
Alfred and Jack whooped and began stripping, letting go of Matthew, who lost his balance and landed in the bath tub, fully dressed. When he came up, he squirted out water directly in Alfred's unamused face and sent the other two residents of the room a deadpan, "really?" type of look. James chuckled.
"See? This just proves that you should be carried!" James dodged the plastic duck thrown at him with a laugh.
"Well, what are you waiting for, Matt, an invitation? Strip!" Alfred yelled as he jumped into the water with Jack, causing a huge splash and half the water to suddenly vanish from the tub.
Matthew begrudgingly did so and began washing his hair, but found the conditioner missing when he reached for it. Opening an eye, he saw James, smirking teasingly, holding the conditioner in his hand and rubbing some into his hands.
"Hey, no fair! I had it first!"
James scoffed and began rubbing the conditioner into Matthews's hair, surprising the smaller of the two males, "I know, dummy. I was there. You know, you could really help me with this if you would actually get over here."
Matthew, now as red as a tomato, pouted but did as he was told, "Shut up! And why are you doing my hair anyway?"
"Because, honestly, you suck at doing your own hair. I know that Papa Francis did your hair before, and that Al usually does your hair now, so I thought I'd help out."
Matthew opened his mouth to respond, but shut it, deciding against it. He'd probably end up saying something stupid anyway.
On the other side of the tub, Alfred and Jack were having an epic battle of toy ships in which whoever lost had to clean the water (of which a lot was accumulating outside the tub) off the floor. Just for the record, no one won because the boats got thrown outside of the tub and no one wanted to get out.
About an hour later, the four children got out of the now freezing water, wrapped themselves in fluffy, towelly goodness, brushed their teeth ("Hey Al?" "Yeah, Mattie?" "As much as I love the smell of your gross armpit, would you please get it out of my face."), and headed to their rooms.
In the first room to the right was Jack, who was hopping around in his black and white boxers, trying to find his stuffed koala. In the next room down, across the hall, was Matthew, changed into a light blue hoodie that was big enough for three of him and dragged on the ground, with black boxers, and Alfred, changed into a red hoodie with bunny ears dangling from it and red striped shorts. In the last room on the second floor was James, who slept in a black and white striped button up shirt (stripes going vertically) and pants (stripes going horizontally).
After a quick meeting in James's room for prayer and a midnight mission to the kitchen for snacks, they went to bed. "Went to bed" meaning, they went to their rooms and turned off the lights; in no way did they actually go to sleep. Matthew tried, but had insomnia, so he crawled up in bed with James, who was reading in bed. They read together until twelve, when they fell asleep. Alfred stayed up until three playing video games with Jack across the hall until he passed out from exhaustion. Jack stayed up until five, at which he fell asleep in the bowl of ravioli he'd made for a snack that night. Needless to say, his uncle wasn't happy to find him snoozing in his food (again) when he came down the next morning. But that's a story for another day.
(A/N): For all of you who read this and thought, "She decided to pick up on another story and leave DM?" No. No I have not. This was just first. Wanna know why? 'Cause I said so, thats why. That and this isn't just me writing some random crap to fill your heads with; this is me and SOMEONE ELSE writing random crap to fill your heads with. Her name is MisterFleas (-shot-). She's my awesome partner-in-crime and a wonderful editor for this marvelous story you just partook in :) And before you say a word, yes I'm late on updating DM, yes I love you, yes this is probably the stupidest/randomest/loveliest thing to have graced your eyes. I know. And your welcome.
Anyway, as usual, you have been caught in the act of reading this shiver-inducing awesomeness and have been punished with at least one comment! (btw, I care about reviews much more than faves, though those are cool too. I just wanna know what ya think about my work. Good or bad. Preferably good, but whatever. I'll take what I get.)
I wish you all friends, food, and plenty of freetime (that of which I do not have).
Quaintly, Pans
