A/N: This one is much shorter than the previous one because I didn't have as much to say about this part of their day. It's pretty simple, and I wanted to leave you guys with your own ideas for the time Alfred and Arthur spend together. I mostly wanted to shine more light on Arthur's relationship with the other kids.
[Chapter 2- Afternoon]
"Alright," Alfred announced sometime before lunch. "I think we can head down to the park now. You all ready to go, Artie?"
"I am," the six year old nodded. "And you? Do you have your jacket?"
"Yes, sir," the American mockingly answered.
"And your wallet?"
"Uh-huh."
"The keys?" The boy intoned his head knowingly. Alfred just pulled them out of his pocket and jingled them. Arthur crossed his arms. "And you have our lunch packed and ready to go?"
"Ah, crap!" The man ran back towards the kitchen.
"What would you do without me?" The child called after his retreating back, smirking slightly.
"Don't you be a smart aleck with me, kiddo. I'm the one in charge of your dessert!" Al mock-threatened. Arthur gasped mock-indignantly and stomped his foot.
"You wouldn't!"
"I would!" Alfred cackled. "Get in here and help me make the sandwiches!" The six year old scuttled after his older brother. They formed a mini-assembly lined. Alfred took the first piece of bread, slathered it with peanut butter, and set it aside. Arthur took the second half of the sandwich and applied a healthy dose of honey.
Then the six year old peeled the bananas and passed them to Al to be cut into slices. Finally, the duo arranged the slices on the peanut butter and placed the honey slice on top.
"Alfred, who taught you to make sandwiches like this?" Arthur asked as they put them into ziploc baggies.
"My ma. Mattie and I used to help her in the kitchen a lot, you know, and instead of peanut butter and jelly, we always made peanut butter-honey-banana," the older blonde explained and packed the sandwiches into a small cooler. He added some water bottles, an apple and the apple slicer, some crackers, and two chocolate pudding cups with spoons. "Okay, Artie. Are we ready to go now?"
"Are you wearing socks?" The boy checked. Al let out a belly-aching laugh and nodded as best he could. "Then yes, I think we can go."
The blondes exited the house side by side. They turned left at the bottom of the front steps and started the long walk down the sidewalk to the park. Ten minutes later found them at their destination. Al sat under the big tree near the edge of the park, setting the cooler down in the shade beside him.
"So, do you wanna play a little bit before lunch, or do you wanna eat and then play?" He asked his six year old companion. The child considered it for a moment.
"Can I play by myself for a little bit? You're a little too big for the playground..." The Brit gestured to the twenty year old's generally large frame.
"Sure! I'll be right here if you want me," Alfred smiled warmly. He pulled out a water bottle and began to drink it before he grabbed his phone. Arthur smiled as he walked away, grateful that his big brother was so nice.
The green eyed boy raced himself to the jungle gym and climbed to the top with a unusual grace for his age. He slipped down through the bars and began to build a story to play out. Mint Bunny came flying up to him after a little while, and Arthur asked the cute rabbit to play the princess in the tower. Soon, Arthur was surrounded by his little friends; he quickly gave them each a role in his story.
Suddenly, his friends scattered.
"'Ello, Anglettere," an accented voice greeted mockingly.
"I though I told you not to call me that, frog," Arthur growled and spun around to face his nemesis. The seven year old was flanked by his toads, the German and the Spaniard.
"Ish zhee little baby angry?" Gilbert teased. His red eyes glinted maliciously. "You're just jealous because ve're so much more awesome!"
"Guys..." Antonio mumbled weakly in protest. He had given up a long time ago, but Arthur was still a little touched he cared.
"Why on earth would I be jealous of a trio of stupid toads like you?" Arthur directed the comment towards Francis and Gilbert. "You're dumb, ugly, and Santa Claus has you on his naughty list."
"Oh ho ho," Francis smirked. "Zhee little Briton does not know."
"Santa Claus isn't real, lozer," the albino informed mockingly. Arthur gasped.
"Liar! He is too!" He shouted. "How dare you imply otherwise, you thickheaded, pungent, impudent-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," a friendly voice called out. Two hands settled on Arthur's shoulders and squeezed lightly. The blonde looked up to Alfred with a startled expression. "Those are some big words. What's goin' on here?"
Francis became visibly defensive, crossing his arms and shifting his weight anxiously. Gilbert tucked his hands behind his back and leaned back on his heels. Antonio just looked away quietly.
"We were just 'aving a talk with Arzhur," the French child stated cautiously. Alfred brightened.
"Great! I love talking! What are we talking about?" He asked. A ripple of unease went through the other children. Arthur finally decided to speak up.
Turning as best he could to address his older brother, he angrily informed, "They said Santa wasn't real!" Alfred looked at the trio with shock.
"Now why would you say something like that?"
"Mein bruder Ludwig told me Santa Claus is made up, and it'sh your family zhat gives you presents," Gilbert snapped.
"Well, I wouldn't say that," the American laughed. "Sure, your families are the ones who give you the presents, but why does that mean Santa's fake?"
"I..." Francis struggled for a moment. "I don't know."
"Santa's elves could make the toys at the North Pole! Who knows?" Alfred grinned.
"Zhat's true..." Gilbert fidgeted, twiddling his thumbs. "Sorry, I guess. I mean, about zhe Santa thing! He could be real, and magic could be real too..." Francis made a small sound but didn't disagree.
"Look! There's Romano! Let's go say hi!" Antonio cried and darted away.
"We already said hi to him five times!" Francis threw his hands in the air and chased after his friend.
"Um, bye, Arthur," Gilbert waved and followed his friends. Arthur turned to Alfred with a big smile.
"Come on. Let's go eat lunch and then we can play some more," the taller male said and scooped up his little brother. They made their way to the tree, Arthur chatting excitedly about the story he made up with his friends.
A/N: Well, we true adults know Santa is totally real because Finland.
I do apologize for the shortness, but no one wants to hear me ramble about Alfred and Artie playing this and that. It would get tedious and boring.
QUESTION OF THE UPDATE: It's not really a question, but I want a short story, no more than 5 sentences, of the game you think Arthur and Alfred played after lunch.