When Madame Marie had returned a few hours later with the children, she immediately picked up on the awkward atmosphere between her son and Arthur. She pretended not to notice but once the children were asleep after a magnificent dinner, (so that was where Francis had learned to cook like that!) she confronted the two of them.
"Oh no, zis is no good! No good at all!" she stated, hands on her hips as she stared down Arthur sitting on the wicker sofa.
"What's no good?" Arthur asked, looking up at her with tired eyes.
"Why zis of course! You two! Did you have a fight or somezing?"
"Eh…not exactly…"
Madame clapped her hands together. "Well it does not matter! I know my son can be pig headed at times, but he is really a good boy."
"Oi Ve, Mother! Stop it!" Francis said, pretending to be embarrassed. "Arthur already knows that!"
"Oh do I?" Arthur said incredulously, crossing his arms. "If you were a good boy, I wouldn't have this."
He patted his belly and suddenly cringed a bit. "Oof…that was a hard one…"
"What's the matter?" Francis asked, sounding a bit concerned.
Arthur just shook his head. "Nothing. It just kicked me really hard, that's all. I think I'll turn in early." Arthur maneuvered himself up out if his low seat, throwing out a hand to balance himself. He nodded to Madame Marie. "If you'll excuse, Madame. Good night."
Arthur shuffle his way into the dark hallway and down to his room. Peter and Alfred were sleeping adjacent to him in the next room over. Arthur could hear Alfred's muffled snoring and Peter's little squeaks as they slept. The familiar sound comforted him as he dug out his pajamas from his suitcase.
As he straightened from pulling his trousers up, he got another hard kick from the baby. He winced from it, a hand on the sore spot where it had hit.
"Please, baby, just let me sleep tonight!" Arthur moaned. The baby responded with another kick, but it was gentler this time. Arthur crawled into the bed, rolling over on his side. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but this way his belly wasn't pressing down on his innards so bad. Arthur closed his eyes, absently rubbing his belly as he felt his tiredness taking over.
The day's events started to replay through his mind. Francis' words to him had shaken him to the core. The forced confession had gotten his brain cogs turning at a frantic pace. He hadn't realized through all the bickering and fighting that maybe he did feel something more for Francis. He certainly had a point; if Arthur really hated him as much as he always said he did, the baby growing inside him never would have come into existence.
Arthur frowned, his eyes still closed. He had asked countless times what he meant to Francis, but had never considered what Francis meant to him. Sure he was a huge pain in the ass, but he was of a reliable sort. Arthur knew that if he needed something done, Francis wouldn't hesitate to help him. Ever since their sophomore year of high school Francis had been like this. He had stuck to Arthur like the way gum sticks to the bottom of your shoe. No matter how many times you try and scrape it off, there's always some left in the tread. Maybe now, after so many years of his constant presence, Francis had embedded himself deep into Arthur's heart.
Arthur chuckled at the thought. Utter nonsense! Francis was lucky Arthur even considered him a friend, though he'd never say it to his face. But Arthur obviously liked Francis enough to let him get into his pants. How many times before then had a drunken Arthur forced himself on Francis? There were times when Arthur drank so much he couldn't remember what he'd done the night before. But if he and Francis had had sex before, Francis had kept it hush hush. Arthur had no proof though that they had done it at all save for that one time.
Arthur rolled over onto his other side and yawned. "I'm thinking too much on this…Francis is my friend…and only that. He's…he's nothing more to me."
xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx
Arthur woke to a dark room and someone in his bed. The hairy arm was resting across his side, a hand on his belly. Arthur knew exactly who it was, but all he could do was sigh and push the arm off. He got himself into a sitting position and looked down at a sleeping Francis. The man was out cold, his mouth slightly open and his face half buried in the pillow. Some of his blonde hair had fallen across his face, obscuring what wasn't hidden by the pillow. Arthur reached down and gingerly brushed it away.
"I can't believe him…," Arthur muttered quietly to himself. "He's going too far for just my sake…and what have I done? All I do is berate him. He…deserves better than me…"
Arthur snuggled himself back down into the quilt, staring at Francis' sleeping face. His hand reached out from under the cover to push back more of Francis's hair. It paused at his cheek, always rough from his perma-stubble. A finger traced the crisp line of his stalwart chin, pausing again near his lips, touching them ever so lightly. Arthur nestled closer, his face just centimeters from Francis'. His heart was beating so fast as he continued to stare at Francis.
Arthur decided to do something he'd normally never do. He inclined the few more centimeters and casually kissed Francis on the cheek. Francis sighed in his sleep as Arthur pulled away and rolled over on his back. Arthur settled back down further into his quilt, pulling them tighter around himself. He closed his eyes, feeling tired again.
"Oh, what am I going to do with you?" he whispered.
xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx==xxXxx
February seemed to pass like lightning and even March was a quick hitter. Arthur barely noticed the two months go by he'd been so busy. He'd been called twice in the past week about Alfred's behavior; picking fights, talking back and disrespecting his teacher. Arthur had talked sternly with him about this but got nowhere with it. He was coming to his wits end. With the baby due in a few more months, Arthur just didn't have the time nor the patience to deal with Alfred. He had enough problems to worry about, like getting a nursery set up and things like that.
It was now getting into April; the snow had all melted away and now flowers and trees were beginning to spring back to life. Along with this burst of new life came Arthur's own version of growing. He could not figure out for the life of him when he had gotten so huge. This sudden weight explosion had happened just like that; suddenly and unexpectedly. He had woken up one day and BAM! He was about 20 pounds heavier and now he stuck out like five or so inches.
Arthur heaved a sigh and sat down at the kitchen table. Strewn across it were envelopes, unpaid bill notices, a mess of paper receipts and a checkbook. Arthur picked up one of the bills and sighed again.
"Damn it all…," he muttered. "I don't think I've got enough to pay this month's rent…I doubt I even have enough to pay the utilities!"
Arthur threw down the paper disgusted. He didn't have anywhere else to turn to if he got evicted. There was his dad, but he didn't want him to find out about his being pregnant until after the baby was born. But it was looking like he might have to tell him if things kept going downhill. Arthur leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.
"Shit…this sucks…If only I hadn't quit my job…"
"What are you doing?" Francis came into the kitchen, carrying an empty bowl. It was the leftover from one of Arthur's late night cravings.
"Umm, nothing really," Arthur said nervously trying to hide the bills. His motions didn't help and Francis saw them anyway.
"Are you trying to give yourself more stress?" he said hotly. "I told you already to let me handle this!"
"I can't help it! I'll go out of my mind if I don't make sure everything's settled. I've even been checking the time more often!"
"Darling, that's the hormones talking," Francis said, setting the dirty dishes in the sink. "You need to just relax."
"Don't you think I've tried? I can barely sleep anymore because the baby's been moving around so much! And then there's the cravings! I hate waking up in the middle of the night wanting mayonnaise and mustard sandwiches with maple syrup!"
"But I bring it to you, don't I? At least you haven't wanted to eat smoked fish with chocolate ice cream and Thai hot sauce on top."
"That is disgusting. What time is it?"
Francis checked his wristwatch. "Hmm, almost 4:30. I've got to go pick up the boys from your dad's here in a bit."
"Then I need to get dinner started," Arthur said in reply, standing up with a grunt. "Good thing I've already got the stock prepared."
"Soup? In the springtime?"
"Sure, why not? Alfred and Peter love my homemade chip beef soup." Arthur took off the lid of a large pot sitting on the stove. Billowing steam came bursting forth, encasing his head in white.
"It's reduced down almost perfectly now. I just need to add the meat." He gave it a stir and put the lid back on.
"Hey," Francis said suddenly. "Do you ever talk to it?"
Arthur looked up from the refrigerator and blinked. "What?"
"The baby, I mean. Don't you talk to it? It can hear you, you know."
"I…I do…sometimes…," Arthur replied, a bit taken aback by the question. "But all I ever get out of it is more bruises."
"Maybe that's 'cause it likes the sound of your voice. I've heard you sing to it too, about every other night. I can hear your voice through the door."
Arthur turned pink and closed the refrigerator door. "S-so what if I do? It's not like you ever talk to it. I bet it doesn't even know who you are!"
"The baby knows who its papa is! Just like how it knows who its mama is. Isn't that right, little one?" Francis got up and snaked his arms under Arthur's while he stood at the stove. His broad hands caressed Arthur's baby belly in soft circles as he chortled in Arthur's ear.
"Get off me, you great lummox! I'm trying to cook here!" Arthur tried to shake the Frenchman off, but his arms just wrapped tighter.
"See? The baby knows who its papa is!" Francis said proudly. "Little one, little one, who do you like more? Mama or Papa?"
"Would you cut that out already? H-hey! What do you think you're-,"
Francis had let go of Arthur only to kneel down and lift up his shirt so his belly was bare and exposed. He nuzzled the stretched skin with his rough cheek. "Say hello to Papa, little one!"
"I…said…CUT IT OUT!" Arthur kneed Francis in the chest, knocking him backward across the floor. He angrily pulled his shirt back down just as the baby gave several kicks. Arthur winced from the pain.
"Ow…now see what you did, Frog? It was sleeping peacefully then you woke it up with that frightful voice of yours!"
Francis rubbed the sore spot on his chest. "You don't have to put it like that, you know. I was only trying to be affectionate."
"I can do without your affections quite well, thank you!" Arthur said, still angry as he turned back to his soup meat. "Shouldn't you be getting the boys right about now?"
"Yeah, yeah…but you know, you can't keep this from your father forever. Sooner or later he's going to find out about his third grandchild."
"He can know after the baby's born. That was my plan anyway. Now get out of my kitchen before I throw something at you!"
