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Arthur sighed as he sat up and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
While the boys slept, Arthur did some more house work. He washed the dishes, cleaned the three bathrooms, did four loads of laundry, and was now scrubbing the kitchen floor.
"I wonder when Francis is coming home," Arthur muttered as he bent back down and started to scrubbed the floor some more.
Then, he heard the door open and some footsteps, followed by a loud voice.
"I'm home," Francis called out loudly.
Arthur got up quickly and rushed over to Francis, shushing him.
"Shut up, you'll wake the boys," Arthur, quietly, snapped.
"Why are they asleep?" Francis asked in an equally hushed tone. "It's 4:30. They should be bouncing around and acting crazy. Well, Alfred anyway."
"Matthew is sick so he's resting," said Arthur, crossing his arms and walking over to the boys, "and I'm pretty sure that Alfred had a sugar rush and crashed."
Francis went over to Matthew and felt his forehead.
"What's his temperature?" he asked, removing his hand.
"Last time I checked," said Arthur, "he was running a temperature of 101.8."
Francis sighed.
"Has he had any medicine yet?"
"He hasn't received any since I picked the boys up from school."
Then, Matthew started to stir. He opened up his tired violet eyes and looked up at Arthur.
"Hey dad," he greeted tiredly.
Arthur kneeled down next to him and brushed some hair out of Matthew's eyes.
"Hey lad, how are you feeling?" Arthur asked.
"Tired," Matthew muttered, sitting up a bit and wincing, "and sore."
Alfred woke up too, groaning, also feeling sore.
"Hi papa," said Matthew, stretching his arms. "You're home early."
Francis chuckled a little.
"It's 4:30 mon petit."
Matthew's eyes widened and turned to the clock. He groaned and flopped back down.
"Oh merde," said Matthew.
"What are you groaning about, Mattie?" Alfred asked, still tired.
"We slept for 2 hours," responded Matthew.
Alfred's eyes widened.
"Holy crap, really?"
Matthew nodded.
"Yep."
"Well, I'm going to get started on dinner," said Francis, clapping his hands and walking into the kitchen.
Arthur picked up the thermometer he left on the coffee table, switched it on, and placed it under Matthew's tongue.
"You keep that under your tongue," Arthur instructed, heading towards the stairs, "while I get the medicine."
Alfred was stretching his arms and yawning.
"Thankfully, papa is home," said Alfred, turning to his little brother, "so dad is banned from entering the kitchen, for now."
Matthew nodded, his eyes showing how happy he was. The thermometer began to beep when Arthur came back down with the medicine. He plucked it out of Matthew's mouth and read the reading.
"It's still 101.8," Arthur sighed, putting the thermometer down. "Maybe the medicine will help bring your fever down."
He took out two pills and gave them to his youngest son.
"Let me get you some water," said Arthur, leaving the room.
Alfred looked at Matthew and shrugged.
"At least it's not getting worse," said Alfred.
"Yeah, but it's not getting better either," replied Matthew, turning to his brother. "If it doesn't go down, dad might have to take me to the doctor."
Matthew hates going to the doctor because he's terrified of needles.
"Hopefully, it won't come down to that," said Arthur, returning with a glass of water and handing it to Matthew, "but if I have to take you to the doctor, I have to."
After Matthew took his medicine, Alfred got up.
"I wonder what papa is making," said Alfred, going to the kitchen.
"Me too," said Matthew, getting up as well.
The twins both sat down at the kitchen table and watched Francis cook dinner.
"What are you cooking papa?" Matthew asked, laying his head on the table.
"Spaghetti," Francis answered, continuing to stir.
"You make the best spaghetti," said Alfred with a big smile.
Francis smiled.
"Merci Alfred."
Soon, Francis was finished with dinner and had Alfred set the table. Then, they all sat down for a family dinner.
"After you're done eating," said Arthur after taking a bite of food, "I want you to go upstairs and put on some pajamas, Matthew. Also, I want you to go to bed early tonight."
"But dad..." Matthew started but was interrupted by Arthur.
"No 'but's, Matthew," said Arthur, sternly. "You're running a fever and you need your rest."
"Matthieu, ton père a raison," agreed Francis. "You need to rest."
"Mais papa," said Matthew, "je ne me sens pas malade."
"Matthew, you are going to bed early and that's final," said Arthur in a 'no more arguing' tone.
Matthew turned to Alfred for help.
"Sorry dude," said Alfred, shrugging his shoulders. "I can't help you here."
"Dad, please..." said Matthew.
"Matthew Isaac, this discussion is over," said Arthur, turning back to his food. "Now, finish your supper."
Matthew sighed and turned to his food, knowing he can't change his father's mind. He took two more bites before pushing it away and getting up.
"I'm done," he stated, heading upstairs to his room.
When he got to his room, Matthew changed into his pajamas and grabbed a book, laying down in bed. He read until he heard a knock on his door.
"It's open," Matthew called, not looking up from his book.
"Hey bro," said Alfred, sitting down next to him.
Matthew looked up, put his book down, and sat up to listen to his brother.
"What's up?"
"Dad says its time for bed."
Matthew looked at the clock with confusion. It was only eight.
"Dad can't be serious," said Matthew in an annoyed tone. "He's nuts. It's too early to go to bed."
"I thought that too," said Alfred. "He is serious though. He's coming up in about ten minutes to take your temperature and give you your medicine before you go to sleep. I'm just here to tell you it's bedtime."
Matthew snorted.
"This is so stupid."
He got up and brushed his teeth and used the bathroom. Then, he went back to his room.
"I refuse to go to bed so early," stated Matthew as laid back down in bed.
Alfred's eyes widened.
"Are you going to go against dad's orders?"
"Yes," stated Matthew firmly.
"Well, you're screwed," said Alfred, leaving. "Night."
"Night," Matthew called back before Alfred closed his bedroom door.
A little bit later, Arthur came in with the thermometer, medicine, and a glass of water.
"Hey lad," said Arthur, placing the stuff on Matthew's bedside table, "how are you feeling?"
Matthew huffed and turned away from his father, still annoyed with the fact Arthur is making him go to bed so early. Arthur sighed and sat down next to his youngest son.
"I know you aren't happy with me," said Arthur, "but trust me, you'll feel a whole lot better if you go to bed early."
"Not going to bed," muttered Matthew.
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Then, let me take your temperature," said Arthur, picking up the thermometer and pressing the 'on' button.
Matthew shook his head, determined to stay up longer.
"Matthew, fighting with me isn't going to help," said Arthur, putting the thermometer near Matthew's mouth. "Now, open up."
"No," said Matthew, his back still towards his father.
Arthur sighed, placed the thermometer down and left the room. Matthew smiled and sat up.
"Yes, I won," he muttered.
Then, Francis came up.
"Hey mon petit," greeted Francis, feeling Matthew's forehead.
Matthew moved away from Francis' hand.
"Why do guys have to feel my forehead?" Matthew whined. "It's annoying."
"Just to see how warm your forehead is," answered Francis, picking up the thermometer. "Now, open up."
"Papa, I don't want to go to bed," whined Matthew before Francis stuck the thermometer under his tongue.
"I know you don't but you need your rest," said Francis, getting Matthew to lie down.
Then, the thermometer started to beep. Francis took it out and looked at it.
"102 even," said Francis, shaking the thermometer and place it on the table. "Well, your dad is going to freak when he finds out your temperature has gone up."
Francis took out the medicine and gave it to Matthew, along with the glass of water. After taking his medicine, Matthew picked up his book and began to read some more. Then, Francis took it out of his hands.
"Hey, I was reading that," said Matthew, reaching for the book.
"Non, c'est l'heure d'aller au lit," said Francis, putting the book on the bookshelf.
"Mais papa..." Matthew started.
"Matthieu Isaac Bonnefoy-Kirkland, it's time for you to go to bed," said Francis sternly.
Matthew laid back down when Francis pulled the covers over him and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
"Bonne nuit petit," said Francis, turning off the lights and leaving.
Matthew waited for a few minutes before sitting up, turning on a lamp, and quietly sneaking over to his bookshelf and grabbing his book. He opened his book and was about to start reading when the door opened. It was Arthur and he did not look happy.
"Matthew, this is ridiculous," sighed Arthur.
He went over to Matthew, took the book out of his hands, and pulled up the covers.
"Now go to sleep," said Arthur.
Matthew waited and then, grabbed his phone, and texted Alfred to come upstairs. A few minutes later, Alfred came into his room.
"Hey, I guess you are bored out of your mind and that's why you asked me to come upstairs," said Alfred, sitting down on Matthew's bed.
"That and I'm not tired," said Matthew.
"You just want to piss dad and papa off don't you?" Alfred asked.
"Yep," said Matthew with a big smile.
Downstairs, 20 minutes later,
"Hey, I'm getting another soda," said Arthur, standing up, "you want one?"
"Yes, thank you mon cher," said Francis with a smile.
Arthur went to the kitchen and grabbed two sodas. On the way back, he heard Matthew and Alfred talking. He sighed in annoyance.
"Hey, Francis," said Arthur, coming back into the living room and handed Francis the sodas, "I'm going upstairs to check on Matthew."
"Ok," said Francis.
Arthur went upstairs and found Matthew and Alfred sitting on Matthew's bed, playing cards.
"Oh crap," said Alfred, looking up at Arthur's angry face.
"Alfred, go to bed now," said Arthur, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Alfred gulped, got up quickly and left the room. Matthew saw the angry look on Arthur's face, gulped and got under his covers with a quick 'good night'.
"Go to sleep," said Arthur, closing the door.
Matthew yawned and finally let sleep claim him.