Chapter 40

As soon as Alfred stepped into the kitchen, Francis leaped out of his chair with a dramatic cry of joy and threw himself across the room. "My baby boy! You found him!" He proceeded to plant kisses all over Alfred's face.

"Great. Yeah, Dad. Uh-huh. You can stop anytime."

Francis pulled away, taking Alfred's cheeks between his hands. "What were you thinking, worrying me like that? I thought you were taken away by angels!"

"Willingly!" Alfred protested.

"Some goodbye! Do not tell me you never touch that phone of yours! You give me a call sometime, all right?!" Matthew put a fist to his mouth, snickering at Alfred's distraught as Francis kept going, "You tell those angels that I said to take good care of you! I could hear your stomach growling before you walked in the door!"

"Ugh, yes, Dad."

Ivan quickly glanced away when Francis' scowl zoned on him. "I make sure Matthew is well fed when he is with me."

"Bien. You are in the clear...for now."

"Oh, good."

"Are you boys staying long?"

The brother exchanged an 'Uh oh' look. Matthew put in, "At least until after Alfred's birthday."

Alfred randomly gasped, "Guys!" Like he did not have all eyes on him, "We should have a party!"

Ivan echoed, "Birthday...party?"

Francis put his hands on his hips. "You expect me to buy a cake?"

"Can you make one?" Alfred sickened his best pout on him, "Please! We can get the batter that has confetti in it, and sprinkles! Ooh, we can't forget the ice cream!"

Ivan glanced to Matthew, who watched his brother flap his hands in front of his face when Francis suggested they get an ice cream cake instead - the best of both worlds. "Do you not find birthday parties exciting?"

"Huh? Oh, very exciting," the remark was almost sarcastic. "Every year, our birthdays get combined on Alfred's birthday, and he's the one that makes most of the decisions. I guess that's the way it's supposed to be. We were supposed to be born on the same day, after all."

"You are very good to speaking up to demons. I would think the same to your family."

Matthew took a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right." Much louder, "Hey!"

Francis and Alfred turned to stare, and the latter piped up, "We need a third opinion on what kind of chips to get!"

"I really like the original ones. We can buy dip for it." Matthew gave a sharp nod as Francis scribbled on a note pad hanging from the fridge. "I was going to say, ice cream cake sounds awesome. We should also get some coke to drink."

His brother shot his arms in the air. "Dude, I love you!"

"Don't make it weird."

Ivan practically squirmed in glee. "We should drink vodka, too, yes?"

Francis did not keep the disgust from his face. "Perhaps for their twenty-first birthday."

"Is a twenty-first birthday special?"

A wink, "Oh, very special."

"I do not get it."

"Yo!" Alfred had a brilliant idea, "We should get confetti cannons! And strippers to come out of the cake! Strippers with confetti cannons!"

Matthew scorned, "I don't think the cake will be big enough for that."

"Mon Dieu!" Francis put a hand over his forehead. "Where did that come from?!"

Ivan said, "I have no idea what any of those are."

"Young man, this is a family and friend's event. If you want to go wild, this house is not the place to do it!"

"Can we still get the cannons though?"

After a moment of internal debating, Francis said, "I will add it to the list."

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

It was a poor choice on Francis' part to buy his son a confetti cannon, let alone more than one. On the day of Alfred's birthday, several days after Matthew was (prematurely) born, he reasoned, "They came in packs of three. I did not have a different option."

Of course, the brothers brought along their 'friends' for the special occasion, and Arthur could not help but stare at the word 'Cannon' on the canisters on the counter, wondering if he should be afraid. Ivan fought himself about eating more chips, under some sort of salt spell.

As always during any slightly exciting occurrence, Francis had his camera out, snapping pictures of the brilliant rainbow-covered cake, and his boys. Alfred snatched his brother in a spine-bending embrace, laughing as Matthew slumped to the side, as if he passed out. They wound up with triple duplicates of that in the camera roll from Francis' snap-happy finger.

Alfred came up with a genius idea of, "Let's take a selfie!"

"Oui! Everyone, get over here!"

Ivan and Arthur bumbled over to mini-gathering, but accidently bumped into one another and grew horrified over physical contact.

"Oh, oopsies!"

"Ugh! Pardon."

"Sorry."

The disguised angel wedged himself between the two brothers, away from the demon, who took his spot on the end beside Matthew. Francis knelt part way so he would not block anybody's faces, and pointed the camera to face the group.

"All right, tout le monde, say 'Cheese!'"

Ivan exclaimed, "The cheese again?" Francis took the photo, causing him to flinch from a snap of light. "Agh!"

"Dad!" Matthew cried out, "His eyes are sensitive."

"Oh, are they?" Francis tipped the device over, looking for a button that would turn the light off. "How do I...?"

Alfred grabbed the camera, pressed a single tab, and plopped it back in Francis' hands.

"Here we go again," their father announced, holding the camera out once more. "This time without flash!"

Rubbing his eye, Ivan reached an arm from his side to hook around Matthew's waist, but overestimated his grab. Arthur yelped when a hand clamped on his rear as the device clicked, preserving all their various reactions.

Matthew asked, "What happened?"

Arthur took a step back, sending a furious scowl Alfred's way. "Alfred. Seriously."

Francis gave the camera an agitated shake, not understanding its mechanics as Alfred raised his eyebrows. "Seriously, what?"

Matthew tried to offer help, but Francis decided shaking the damn thing was the best way to go.

Arthur turned his head away, his nose in the air as he fought a smile. "You know what I am talking about."

"No, I really don't."

Ivan remained silent, folding his hands behind his back as he reveled in the minor chaos he accidently unleashed.

"Something happened to the camera!" Francis wagged the device again. "It is all discolored!"

Again, Alfred took it. "It's just a filter."

"I do not know what any of that is!"

"Chill out, old man. I'll fix it."

"Quoi?! Old man?!"

Matthew took the opportunity to lean over the counter and drag a finger through the cake's side, stealing icing as he always done previous years when nobody was looking. Mm, buttercream. He took another drag, and Arthur crossed his arms, condoning his actions with a scowl. "Are we going to cut the cake? Preferably before it melts?"

His brother belted in Francis' ear, "Cake!"

"Agh! Wait!" Francis flinched and glanced around the kitchen. "We need candles!"

Matthew shook a box that was resting on the counter. "Right here!"

"Ah, I knew that!" Francis stabbed twenty (one for luck) candles into the small, round cake. "I need the lighter."

Ivan watched the strange ritual, lost as Arthur took a spot beside him. Once the lighter was brought out, he cried out, "Why are you setting the cake on fire?!"

The others stared at him. Matthew said, "Hey, remember what we talked about? About not freaking out?"

"Do not freak out. Do not freak out."

Francis swished a hand at his distracted sons as he flicked off the lights. "Blow out the candles before they melt onto the cake!" He fumbled with the camera, pointing it at Matthew and Alfred leaning toward the candles, their smiles illuminated by the flames. "Ready? Happy Birthday!"

"Dad, you don't have to sing."

Yes, please don't sing, Matthew pleaded with a quiet look.

Francis slapped a hand to his chest. "You hurt my heart! You used to love it when I sang the Birthday Song to you!"

Ivan sputtered, "Birthday Song? What is happening?"

Arthur grumbled, "Sometimes, it's just best to sit back and let it happen."

An obnoxious sound of annoyance from Alfred prompted everyone to turn to the cake. The twins took big breaths, their cheeks puffing out, all the while Francis' finger danced on the capture button. The camera clicked, capturing the important moment of the fire snapping to a thin trail of smoke.

"Woo!" Francis clapped as his boys gave one another a quick hug. Ivan and Arthur could only manage lost, half smiles. The twins plucked the candles from their cake, leaving welts in the icing, and popped the ends covered in frosting in their mouths. "Watch out," their father warned, wielding a large, frightening kitchen knife, "I have to cut the cake."

Alfred said, "I want a big piece!"

"As always, cher. Get me a plate."

Ivan asked, "You do this on everyday you are birthed?"

"It comes around once a year."

He was still confused. Matthew drew up to him with a small plate of ice cream cake, smiling expectantly. "Is that for me?"

"Of course. With love." They giggled and bumped their noses together. "Don't forget a fork, sweetie."

Alfred hung his tongue out of his mouth and made a drawn-out gagging noise.

Almost pinching the icing between two fingers, Ivan tossed a nervous glance around the room. "Oh, I, uh, was going to."

Francis finally decided to put the camera down to smack the back of Alfred's head before taking a piece of cake for himself.

"Hey, Dad, I'm getting two pieces!"

"It is there for a reason."

Alfred cracked a blue frosting colored smile, and Arthur turned away, exclaiming in disgust, yet almost-smiled anyway. He locked eyes with Ivan, and they stared at one another for a heavy moment before Ivan offered an equally icing-infested grin. Matthew bumped against his shoulder and nodded to the angel, who nodded back, and they all went back to their desserts.

"And he went, 'Whoosh!'" Alfred threw his hand out to the side, "Over the car, twenty feet in the air, did at least five barrel rolls mid-air before smacking the ground!"

"Mon Dieu," Francis shook his head, politely laughing at his son's gaming escapade. Even at the hilarious tale, and the blissful smile on his face, his eyes pooled with tears. He tried his best to not let them spill, but Matthew's light giggles at the tale made him weak. Birthday parties were supposed to be fun and happy, after all.

"Hey, I don't mean to be all spoiled and stuff," Alfred changed the subject, "but are we going to get presents?"

"You are nineteen years old now. Do you think I am still going to buy you presents?"

Alfred stared at his father, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to stammer out an awkward apology, but Francis held a hand up.

"Of course I bought the both of you presents. I will not stop getting you presents! Ever!"

"Aw, really?! Woo!" Alfred and Matthew gave one another hyped smiles and wriggled on their stools. The other two looked at each other with confused frowns as Francis dug around in a cabinet above the refrigerator, where he kept his alcohol. Fortunately (or unfortunately, whoever is asking), they two did not coincide, and he brought out two bags, one per son.

Alfred gasped, clapping his hands together like he won the lottery. Matthew could not help but bounce in his seat, but managed to keep any strange noises down, and they went to town, flinging tissue paper all over the floor.

Another unearthly squeal, and Alfred burrowed his hands into his bag contents to pull out a thin DVD case. "Oh, my god! Look, Artie! Look! It's the latest Fast and Furious movie! We got some late night watching to do!"

"Ah, that's...ahem. That's wonderful, love."

Matthew softly gasped as he produced a stuffed polar bear from his bag. "Oh, no. It's too cute."

Francis held his hands out. "Come on. Say it. Who is an awesome dad?"

"Dad's the awesome dad!" Alfred scrambled out of his seat. "Booty bump!" He raised his arms above his head to knock his hip into Francis', causing Francis to cry out in delighted surprise and catch himself on the counter. Matthew leaned over to playfully slap one of his hands.

Finally, Ivan nodded in understanding. "I see. Parties are very exciting things." He jumped, almost falling out of his seat when Arthur fiddled with one of the cannons too much, and the top exploded, releasing a shower of shiny confetti over the trio's heads.

"Oh, fuck. I mean...sorry. I had no intention on that happening-"

The brothers grabbed the other ones, whooping and twisted the bottoms, making a sequel to the confetti shower. Francis wagged a finger, trying to scold them for making a mess in the house, but was too busy laughing from the streamers nestling in his hair.

~.~

~GNIOB~

~.~

"I know you love me. You tell me all the time! I got to go!"

"Not without a kiss from your Papa!"

"Dad!"

Matthew could hear his brother groaning from the top of the stairs. Francis left a loud, puckering smooch on Alfred's cheek. "Voilà! That is not so bad, is it?"

As Matthew bustled down the steps, Alfred chanted, "Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

"Why are you in such a rush to leave me?" Francis cupped his hands over his face. "What have I done wrong?"

Alfred rolled his eyes, legs dancing in place as if he could not keep still. "Nothing, I just got to get going! Arthur and I have people we have to get to, and-"

"And you do not want to be late, oui, I understand, but do not forget, you are my son, first!"

"Of course, Dad. I'm coming back, so don't have an aneurism." Alfred spun around, holding his arms out for his brother. "You, too, Mattie!" They bro-hugged. "Don't fall into any lava pits!"

"Don't...uh...eat any feathers?"

Matthew watched his twin throw open the front door, jump over the porch steps, and bounce all the way to where Arthur was already waiting outside. He threw his arms around the guy, making him stumble back a few steps, and then their faces squished against one another. Both him and their father jumped when wings exploded from Arthur's back, and folded around Alfred before they vanished in a flurry of feathers and light.

"Oh. Oh, yeah, sure," Matthew remarked, "Let the neighbors look out their windows at the wrong time..."

A wheeze came from his side. Francis clutched onto his chest, "I do not think I will get used to that."

Matthew lunged to shut the door, and spun around to face his father. "Papa, are you all right?"

"Need to sit."

"All right. The kitchen chairs are right there."

"Oui, just pass the demon eating all my chips."

Ivan dissented, "The bag says I cannot have only one!"

Francis plopped in the adjacent stool and stuck a hand to his forehead. "Can you get me a glass of water, Matthieu?"

"Of course, Papa."

His father glanced in the direction of the continuous munching. "Are you staying long?"

After a last gulp, Ivan winced from a chip stabbing his throat. "I do not wish to be away from my family and lands for more than necessary."

"Ah, you have a family?"

"Everybody has a family."

Matthew set a cup of water in front of his father, and sat at the opposite side of the island counter. "Maybe we should stay a little bit..." He trailed off, giving Francis a sad look.

"Non, do not look at me like that! I will not ever want you to leave!"

Ivan stared at the chips for a moment before giving the bag a small push away from himself.

Matthew lightly sighed, "I don't know, Papa. I have a place in Hell now." Francis sniffled, almost weeping into his drink. Yikes, poor choice of words. "Um...y-you know...with Ivan."

"I get it," Francis said gently. "You know, this gives me plenty of ideas for a story I have been thinking about, and I already have so many others! I will be busy when you're gone, so do not worry about me."

"I can't help it!"

"Ah, neither can I, mon petit!"

"We go now?" Both turned to Ivan slowly reaching for the bag of chips once more. He yanked his hand back, and admitted, "I miss my puppies."

"You have puppies?!" At first Francis was delighted, then his expression slumped to one of confusion. "They have puppies?"

"Hellhounds," Matthew said. "They are one of the cutest and ugliest things I have ever seen. All eight of them."

"Plus Cujo."

Matthew shyly smiled from Ivan's staring. "Yeah, plus the mommy."

His father raised his eyebrows. "You named...a female hellhound...Cujo?"

"It was Matthew's idea!" Ivan announced, proud. "The name has a nice sound to it, yes?"

Knowing the true origin of the name, Francis let out an uneasy laugh. "Oui, it is...charming."

Ivan rose to his feet, repeating, "We go now?"

"Yep! Just let me grab a few more outfits, 'cause we're going to be there for a while." Matthew tapped his own stubbly cheek, "Oh, and a razor."

"I would not mind if you 'forgot' one again."

Matthew grinned his way out of the kitchen. Francis gave Ivan a suspicious look when he kept glancing to the doorway after his son was upstairs. When he finally turned his head, first looking into the bag of chips, then to the other man, he innocently asked, "Is something wrong?"

Francis did not respond, opting to loudly sip on his water and gave him the stink eyes over his glass. Ivan had almost forgotten how battle hungry this family was.

Matthew noted when he reentered the kitchen with a spare back bag, "It's quiet."

Ivan pushed his stool back. "Now?"

"Wait a minute. I have to hug my dad," Matthew said with a laugh. Francis twisted on his seat to embrace him.

"Be careful, Matthieu."

"You, too. You'll be all right?"

"I will be all right and happy as long as you are. Go, do not make your puppies wait any longer."

"Okay, Papa. Thank you."

Ivan threw his arms around his son as soon as he came too close. "Bye-bye, Mister Francis!" He taunted, grunting as his demonic aspects sprouted, and were gone in a sudden sweep of darkness. Francis was left alone on the kitchen stool, eyes wide and unfocused. Very slowly, he reached out, groping the air where they were a moment ago. He settled back in his seat, staring distantly at the door frame.

"If you are happy with your demon puppies and eternal fires, then I am, too."