Alrighty, here's chapter 4. It's a bit longer than the others (at least 1,000 words more), so you get a bit more story in this one.
Thank you so much for the reviews I have received. And those of you hesitating don't. I like the feedback, and it helps me to know where to aim this story. In fact, reviews helped with how things go down in this part. Thank you for your continued patronage, and enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: IT'S IN CHAPTER 2! NO I'M NOT PUTTING IT HERE! I WROTE IT ONCE, AND THAT'S ENOUGH.
DON'T FORGET TO GO VOTE ON MY PROFILE FOR POSSIBLE SCENARIOS!
It was decided that they should have the conversation in the living room, since Alfred was already at his wit's end with them. So Arthur made the four a fresh pot of tea while the other three found comfortable spots in the other room. He prepared a tray, and brought it in where the others were. Sitting it down on the coffee table, he poured for all of them, his memory of how each of them took theirs permanently ingrained in his mind.
Francis liked his with three sugars, no milk.
Matthew liked his with two sugars, and a healthy splash of milk.
Alfred preferred his with five heaping spoons of sugar, and just a dab of milk. But Arthur refused to put that much sugar in the cup.
"Bloody hell, how about some tea with your sugar?! Git."
He gave them three spoons of sugar, and handed him the cup. Alfred pouted at the beverage, but took a sip anyway. Hey, he had a sweet tooth, and it needed to be satisfied! It wasn't his fault, honestly.
With the four blondes occupying chairs and the couch (Alfred had most of the couch), and their tea ready to drink, Francis decided to get the ball rolling. He turned to Alfred, clearing his throat for what was going to be a very long discussion.
"Now, Amerique, I am sure that you have heard the story of the birds and the bees, yes?"
Alfred's glare over the rim of his cup was the only answer the Frenchman received.
"Yes, I'm sure you have. But, just so we can be positive that you do, I'm going to refresh your memory."
Matthew bit his lip to hold back a laugh. If looks could kill, Francis would have been nuked by that point. Arthur had to fight back a grin of his own. This was a serious situation, and needed to be treated as such.
"Now, when two people love each other, like a man and a woman, they find a need to express the love they feel for each other in an intimate manner."
"Oh dear god nooo…" Alfred grabbed a throw pillow, and buried his face in it to hide the blush staining his cheeks. The other two snickered to themselves.
"So, they decide on a time and place to act on these desires with each other, and meet up. They make sure to discuss what they need to bring before hand, so they can make it as memorable as possible."
Arthur's hand paused, tea cup half way to his mouth. "Wait a minute, frog. What would they need other than themselves? I mean, this is a man and a woman you're talking about. Women make their own lubri-"
"Angleterre, please! THAT is the reason why I need to explain this to him. You British are so… so… RESERVED when it comes to sexual intercourse. I mean, seriously, there isn't an adventurous bone in your body. You burned yourself out centuries ago."
All Arthur could do was stare at him, his face blank. Oh, how he wanted to correct the wine-sucking bastard! If he only knew of the items he kept hidden under his bed.
Or in his dresser.
Or in his closet, bathroom, kitchen, basement, shed, home and government office… the point was, Francis didn't have a clue as to what he did in his spare time, and as tempted as he was to wipe that smug look off his face, he decided to keep it to himself. Let him have his moment.
Later, when this mission was completed, he'd make sure that he set the record straight.
With the smug look in place, and successfully shutting England up, he turned back to Alfred to continue. Alfred, in the meantime, was wondering about whether or not suffocating himself would kill him long enough for the weekend to pass. He let out a moan of displeasure as the elder nation resumed his speech.
"Anyway, after deciding on what accessories they will need, they meet up, and set the mood. This usually involves roses, wine, candles, and a little romantic music, depending on the individual's tastes. Now, when they are relaxed, and feeling the call of… hon hon hon, nature demanding release, they will begin the process that will eventually end with them in bed."
Matthew felt the need to interrupt this time. "Uh, isn't that a bit cliché?"
Three sets of eyes turned to rest on the young Canadian.
He gulped, noting that one pair of those eyes were sending a silent message that promised a painful death. The other two were just curious. Francis leaned back in his chair, and rested his hands on his crossed knees. "I am merely giving the ideal example, Matthieu. Surely you don't expect him to spend his first time somewhere unsavory?"
"No, papa, I am not!" Matthew had taken note of how Alfred was taking this whole mess, and it was triggering something in him that strove to protect his twin brother from the embarrassment. He looked at his brother, and smiled encouragingly. "I would like to point out, however, that it doesn't always go that way. You can have sex practically anywhere, at any time. It just depends on when the mood strikes, and what the situation is at that particular moment."
Francis waved him off. "No, we do not want it to be something so spontaneous! How is this to be a memory for him to cherish if he ends up losing his…"
"You know, perhaps we should leave it up to Alfred as to where and how he decides to do this. Did you ever think that he may have thought of a few ideas for when the time comes? Hell papa, if he wants to give it up in the backseat of his fucking car, then that is fine! But don't sit here and pressure him into a situation that he isn't comfortable with! You KNOW he despises anything that is too lovey-dovey."
As Matthew gave his speech, Francis had leaned back in his chair, a look of shock etched on his features. Since when did his sweet and gentle spoken charge speak to him, let alone anyone else, in such a manner?!
Arthur had been taken back as well by the harsh words. But he easily recognized the look in his eyes as that of one on the defensive. He had shown that same look to those seeking to hurt the ones he loved numerous times in the past. And to be honest, he found it quite endearing. He knew he had picked the right one to offer Alfred support.
Alfred, however, was gaping at his twin in a mix of awe and horror. "M-Mattie… dude, chill out!"
"NO! This whole thing is ridiculous! I'll admit, yes, you need to be boned in the worst way! As old as you are, you should have had at least a dozen lovers by now, if not more! But, I am NOT going to sit here, and let this plan be turned into a form of entertainment for either of these perverted bastards!"
"Oi! I am NOT a pervert, thank you very much!"
"MATTHIEU! For shame, speaking of me this way!"
Alfred busted out laughing. Holy crap, Mattie was serious! And for some reason, that made the knots in his stomach ease up. Knowing that his brother had his back gave him a boost of much-needed confidence. If he had his bro by his side, then he could do this shit! Probably enjoy the experience too.
Matthew grinned at his brother, shooting the older pair in the room a look that said no fucks were given on their behalf. His only interest was his brother, and not any over the top endeavors the two may have. "The point I'm trying to make is that when you feel you are ready this weekend, and you have found the one you're interested in, then you will know what to do. All you need to know are the mechanics. And even though I often have my doubts about you, I know you're not THAT stupid."
He paused there, and eyed his brother warily, recalling his thoughts from earlier that day. "You do know which hole to aim for, right?"
"No, I thought that it would know where to go on its own."
"Smartass."
Arthur sat his cup down on the coffee table, and stood. "Well then, if that is out of the way, I suppose we should get ready for bed. We have a busy day tomorrow."
Francis stood up, a scowl marking his features. "Now wait a minute! Why would you even bother to involve me if you are going to blow off anything I suggest?!"
The Brit thought about that for a moment. "Well, you may not get to plan out just how everything will go, but you ARE needed. He may have questions he's only comfortable asking you."
Francis turned to look at Alfred, who nodded and offered a weak smile. "He's right. I mean, Mattie's my brother and Arthur is… Arthur, but you are the oldest, so you would know more."
"B- But, if you are not going to take-"
"I never said that. Neither did Mattie. I will, however, keep it in mind, just in case things go in that direction."
Francis studied him, then finally nodded, accepting that much.
Matthew had collected the tea service, and taken it to the kitchen. As he rinsed out their cups, he thought about all that was going to happen over the next few days. As delighted as he was over is inclusion, and his brother's acceptance of his support and guidance, he couldn't help but feel as though something was going to come along and throw a kink in their plans. Things like this never worked out as intended, and as the clock ticked away, he was more and more sure that this weekend was going to be a failure of epic proportions.
He didn't know how right he was.
The next morning was an especially early one for Arthur. He had rested well, but his dreams had disturbed him. And as time eased by, he felt the edges of an oncoming storm heading their way. He had made some coffee, feeling like having a rare cup for the energy, and had decided to take it out on the front porch to watch the sun rise. In the distance, you could barely make out the ocean from where the house sat on a hill high above most of the countryside. A little further in, you could make out the small town that had once been a meager settlement in colonial times. It was a beautiful sight, only the patterns of woodland and ever-growing suburban sprawl changing it. He was content to stand by one of the columns that held up the porch roof. It made something in his heart lighter to see that they were the same ones that had been carved when the house was first constructed. God, how he had planned it out, room by room, every detail carefully plotted to assure it would last the ages. And it had. He hadn't the heart to destroy it during the colonial rebellion, and somehow it had survived being burned to the ground during the American Civil War, a true miracle since every other prominent property had been razed to the ground by angry soldiers from the Union. Maybe they had sensed it wasn't just another house, but the house of their countries embodiment. But he wouldn't question it. It wasn't proper to do so.
A smile lit up his face as he recalled a conversation he had had with a much younger Alfred centuries back, sitting right there on that very porch. A conversation that was, in fact, relevant to what they had planned, in a way.
~*time warp – colonial times*~
Arthur had a headache. He had spent all day cooped up inside, filling out various reports to send back to the king. Old George was a particular person, insistent that every possible bit of information was included, right down to what the average budget was for a family per week. Keeping all those facts and figures straight and in order took its toll on him, but until his young charge was old enough to do so himself, it was his job and he was going to do it right. Of course, that still didn't make it any easier. But he had had enough of the hot and humid air that permeated the rooms. So, he had called it a day, and had come outside to sit in his favorite rocking chair. It was pleasant to watch the light begin to slowly fade from the sky, an offshore breeze reaching inland to their location, making it all together a nice evening to be outdoors.
From somewhere to the right of the house came the sounds of bubbly laughter. That sound instantly triggered a grin from the usually stoic nation. It had been a hard transition from delinquent pirate king to proper gentleman, but it was one he took in stride. He had a major responsibility to care for, and he was determined to see it out right, without any mishap from himself or lack of attention to the young colony currently running about in the stable yard. He had made it clear where the child could play and not play without his supervision, and Alfred rarely disobeyed him. That made his grin even more prominent. Although the child had super-human strength, and a head as hard as rock, he was a good boy. His manners were in order, and he was a pure pleasure to be around. And even when his speech would slip into something that made him cringe at times, it was all bearable. Yes, this life had softened him. But there were times that he was put on the spot. He was about to be in one of those spots.
It all started when he noticed that the happy sounds had ceased. 'Hmm, I wonder what he's doing.'
Curious, he called out for him. "Alfred! Where are you, poppet?"
A few seconds later, a blur of blonde and white came around the side of the house, stopping so abruptly in front of him he could have swore he heard his shoes squeal on the cobblestone walkway. Eyes as big and blue as the sky above him gazed up at him from a face that was slightly sweaty and plenty dirty from a day of long play.
"I'm right here, Arthur! Is something wrong?"
He chuckled. "I was just wondering what you were up to. You were being too quiet. You didn't do anything wrong, did you?"
The small boy in front of him moved his head in the negative. "No sir, I was just watching the horses playing."
"Ah, I see. Well, carry on then. It will be getting dark soon, and it will be time to retire indoors."
"Okay!" Alfred turned to rush off, but paused mid-stride. He turned back to face Arthur, a crease in his brow indicating he was deep in thought.
"Arthur? Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, love. You can ask me anything you want to."
The boy tilted his head a bit. "Arthur, do horses wrestle?"
"What? Well, I don't know. I mean, they'll roll around in the grass if they're feeling good. Or they will buck and run with each other. But wrestle? I've never seen them do so."
Alfred nodded slowly.
"What makes you ask that, poppet?"
"Well, when I was watching the horses, Charger looked like he was trying to wrestle with Rosie. But it didn't look like any kind of wrestling I've ever seen before."
Arthur arched an eyebrow. Charger was the horse he had brought with him from Britain. He was one of the finest stallions in his stables. Rosie had been given to Alfred by Arthur as a birthday present, or the day they celebrated as his birthday. It was really just the day he had first been discovered by Finland.
"I'm afraid I don't…" Then it dawned on him what Alfred had seen. He had been expecting the mare to go into season soon, and from the sounds of it had done so. And Charger had lucked out, apparently. "Ah, I see. Well, it's nothing to worry about. I'm sure they'll be fine. Now, go play while you still can." God, he did NOT want to go into this yet. Alfred was too young to know about certain facts of life.
"But what were they doing if they weren't wrestling?"
Nope. Not having this conversation.
"Really, love, just go back to what you were doing. It's nothing important."
"But I wanna know!"
Not doing this.
"Just forget about it, okay?"
"Englaaand! I wanna knoooow! Tell meeee, please!"
Fucking Christ on a ladder.
"It's 'want to', not 'wanna'. You really need to speak properly."
"Don't try to change the subject! That doesn't work on me anymore!"
Damn the little shit for being so observant! He sighed heavily as he gazed down at his colony. Wasn't there any way to avoid this?
"Look, all you need to know is that they were… uhm… uhh…"
He was at a loss for words. How did you explain sex to a practically 8-year old kid?! He thought fast. There was one way of doing this without going into all the gory details. Hopefully it would satisfy the curious brat before him.
"Why don't you wait until Francis comes for a visit and ask him? I'm sure he'd be able to explain it to you a lot better than I can. Can you wait that long?"
Alfred studied him. Now, he knew when his older brother was avoiding a particular thing. Because he would always tell him to ask France about it. Then, when he was filled in, he would report back what he had been told, which would then turn the situation into Arthur doing his best to kill the older nation for giving too many details on the matter. All he wanted to know was what the horses had been doing. Why was it so hard to explain? He didn't understand adults sometimes. They were so weird.
"Alright, I guess I can wait. Don't know why I have to though." He pouted, scuffing his shoe on the stone beneath him.
'Oh thank God! That's one bullet dodged.' Arthur smiled warmly. "How about I make it up to you with a batch of fresh cookies for dessert."
That adorable face lit up instantly, any thought to what the horses had been doing forgotten in the face of the tasty treat. "Yeah! That's sounds awesome!"
The two went inside to get to work on them, and the matter was dropped for the moment.
Until France came. And as Alfred predicted, the two nations duked it out once he had learned about the mating habits of animals in vivid detail.
England won.
~*time warp – present day*~
It seemed like a thousand years had passed since that day. And as Arthur studied the remaining drops of coffee in the bottom of his cup, the smile on his face was a sad one. Why had his little boy turned against him? Why had he grown up to be a hard-headed, narrow-minded git? Where did he go wrong?
'Well, at least we're making amends now. Guess I should be thankful for that.' Sighing, he made his way back inside, finding Francis in the kitchen looking bedraggled in only a thigh-high robe, hair messy and tangled about his face as he prepared himself a cup of brew heavy with cream. That robe made Arthur shudder with revulsion. The last thing he had wanted to see were those fur-covered legs bared to the world and his eyes.
"Ugh, can you please go put some clothes on?"
"But I am wearing clothes, Angleterre."
"I mean ACTUAL clothes, frog! Not that scrap of cloth you call a robe! No one needs to see all that body hair!"
"Hon hon hon, you know you like it. It is sexy, no?"
Francis ducked as a coffee cup sped past his head, the cup shattering upon impact with the wall.
"NOW!"
"I love you too, Angleterre'~."
Before Arthur could retaliate with the chair he had seized, the phone near the kitchen door rang. Pausing mid-swing, he turned to look at it with a perplexed expression.
"Now, who could be calling this early in the morning? It's not even 7 am!"
Shrugging, Francis moved to grab the receiver, taking the long way around the table to avoid the enraged one. Picking it up, he greeted the caller.
Meanwhile, the sounds of shuffling footsteps were heard as Matthew and Alfred made their way into the kitchen, both of them still half asleep.
"Oui. Oui. Are you sure it has to be today?"
Arthur listened in the best he could while directing the twins to chairs to sit in, and proceeding to pour them some coffee as well.
"Well, if you say so. But this is really bad timing! We had plans for today!"
As the boys sipped on the brown liquid, equally blissful looks on their faces, Arthur looked up and made a motion that asked what the problem was.
Francis waved him off for the moment, listening to the caller and nodding. "Oui. Alright then, we shall be there as soon as we can get ready and arrange transport."
He hung up the phone, and turned to the other occupants of the room. "Bad news. There has been an emergency meeting called. Egypt has decided to act on its threat, and took the Suez Canal." He pointed to Arthur, then Alfred. "We are needed at negotiations. They want Matthew there to help keep the situation in control."
The three all groaned. This was NOT how they wanted to spend their weekend! But it was their job, so they had to do it.
"Alright, let me go and get ready. You boys finish your coffee, and then get dressed. We need to leave as soon as possible." Arthur and Francis, his cup now forgotten, rushed out of the room to prepare for their flight. Matthew and Alfred exchanged glances. They already knew how things were going to turn out. And it wasn't going to be nice, either.
"Let's hope our weekend isn't ruined by this."
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