"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas..." The near angelic voice of Eddy Arnold floated through the warm pine scented air of the Kirkland-Jones home. Alfred was singing merrily to himself whilst he kept his hands occupied with arranging boxes donned in bright and colorful paper and curling ribbons. Alfred moved to humming as he pushed the last wrapped box into place under the tree and then stepped back to admire his lovely work. Everything had to perfect that morning since today was December 25th and today that date was even more so special because this was the first time Alfred and Arthur would be sharing the joyous holiday with their little boy, Charlie. The tree was trimmed, the music was playing, the camera was charged, and all the presents were nestled right where they belonged. To top it all off with a wonderful cherry powdery snow was lazily drifting down from the skies outside the front window and slowly coating the earth and its soft, cooling blanket. Alfred smiled again. This couldn't be a more perfect day for the Yule tide holiday as white Christmases were always the best, or so the song proclaimed.
"Look who's up." Arthur voice flittered in over the sound of the soft soothing music causing Alfred to grin broadly at his husband and the guest of honor in his arms, still a bit bleary eyed from the sandman's nightly visit.
"Hey, hey champ! Who's ready for his very first Christmas?" Alfred cooed excitedly as he strode up to his partner and their beautiful baby. Charlie looked at him funny for a moment as he tried to will away his sleepiness and not before long a wonderful toothless grin cracked across his face as he recognized the face of his father. "That's the spirit little man." Alfred grinned back with just as much brightness to his smile as he rounded up Arthur and began leading him over to the ocean of presents that awaited little Charlie. Even if Charlie was only three months old and unable to really do much for his first Christmas, it didn't matter because all that mattered as that he was around to share it with his loving fathers.
The baby sat propped securely on Arthur's chest (as the boy still lacked the strength to sit up on his own) as Alfred helped with the unwrapping of presents. Charlie wasn't sure what the presents were and stared at them with confusion at first, but he sure was attracted to the colorful paper the boxes were wrapped with (in fact he seemed more interested in the paper than the presents). He would burble and squeal and hit his tiny hands against the box's surface as he was unsure of the concept of grabbing the paper and tearing it off, but Alfred and Arthur were more than happy to lend the babe a helpful hand. The cats joined in, batting at the ribbons playfully and curiously inspecting the man gifts Charlie had received.
It wasn't long before boxes, toys, and paper was strewn in every which direction and the space under the tree was empty of all its previous contents. Only a single present remained wrapped in not a box, but a bag with a bright colorful ribbon fastened along the handle. Alfred reached over to it (not remembering putting that one by the tree) and placed it in front of Arthur and Charlie. "Alright little buddy, last present." Alfred proclaimed and the little boy squealed with delight, playfully grabbing at the ribbon cascading down the sides of the bag. Alfred merely smiled warmly at his son and dug into the present to retrieve its contents. Whatever was in the bag was soft and plush and at first Alfred assumed it was a blanket or maybe another set of clothes, but when he pulled out the down-soft object he discovered it wasn't either.
It was a fluffy, stuffed unicorn with purple and blue fur topped off with a pair of shining button eyes and a frizzy purple mane to match its fur. "A unicorn…?" Alfred cocked one dark blonde brow as he gazed upon the stuffed animal. Of course he knew who must've bought it when Alfred wasn't watching him. The American gazed over at his husband from over the lenses of his rectangular glasses. "Really Artie?" He questioned.
"Yes really, unicorns are perfectly majestic and manly creatures." Arthur proclaimed as he took the stuffed animal from his husband's hands. The Briton placed the plush doll in front of Charlie to see how the boy would react. "There you are, love. His name is Winston, like Winston Churchill. He was a prime minster of Britain- which is where daddy's from- during World War II and he-!"
"Artie, he's three months old, he doesn't need a history lesson quite yet." Alfred teased his partner affectionately.
The other promptly puffed his cheeks out slightly and pursed his thin pink lips. "Well Charlie is half British after all; he ought to know the history of the country his father is from."
"America?" Alfred replied just for the joy of annoying his better half.
"Git, I'm talking about Great Britain." Arthur pouted back, decidedly not getting into the challenge more because Alfred was just trying to mess with him. "We may live in America, but I lived in Britain for the first twenty or so years of my life. I only want Charlie to know about the other part of his heritage that doesn't involve American football and fast food." Arthur gazed down at the boy sitting propped up in his lap. The baby had now happily latched onto the stuffed unicorn and was busy attempting to chew on its ear.
"I'm sure he'll know plenty about it Artie; you'll definitely make sure he knows." Alfred laughed as he smiled down at his son, affectionately patting the baby's rounded head. "But really a stuffed unicorn? It couldn't be something cooler like a lion, or maybe an eagle? I never had a stuffed animal as a kid; I was way too cool for that stuff." The American smirked proudly.
Arthur smirked. It was that smirk that said 'I know something you don't know.' "Oh really now? I fondly remember your mother telling me something about you having a stuffed dog- Ranger was his name if I recall correctly- and you refused to part with him up until college."
Alfred's jaw worked up and down as he was left speechless, blue eyes spread wide. "H-How did you? My mom wouldn't…" He trailed off; puffing out his cheeks to pout about the embarrassing knowledge his mother had so graciously shared. "Oh yeah? Well you brothers also shared a lovely bit of info with me too." Arthur brows furrowed and his mouth sat slightly ajar.
"They didn't. You're bluffing." Arthur shot back accusingly.
"Oh they did. Something about a certain blonde haired, green eyed, Briton having a little stuffed Lamby-kins that he still has hidden in a storage box somewhere." Alfred smirked triumphantly at the look on Arthur's face and the way his ivory cheeks blossomed bright red at the comeback. The American laughed heartily and Arthur pouted.
"Belt up! My mother made me that stuffed lamb; I couldn't be so rude as to throw away something she so painstakingly made by hand." The Briton protested in his defense.
The mention of Arthur's dearly departed mother made Alfred's laughter die down a bit. Mrs. Kirkland had been a wonderful lady who was always a victim of circumstances. She had been married and divorced four times and as a result of those bad relationships came Arthur and his brothers. In actuality the four of them were all half-brothers connected by the same maternal line. Mrs. Kirkland (or how she was named when Alfred met her) was an extremely sweet and kind lady with a heart of gold, but she had a horrible habit of getting herself into relationships that were never meant to last. Still married or not she gave everything she had to her children and did everything she could to make their lives the best she could make them. Alfred had loved her dearly even though he didn't know her for very long. Arthur had practically worshiped the very ground she walked on- a mama's boy to the fullest.
Unfortunately though Mrs. Kirkland had passed away only a short while after Arthur and Alfred had been married. Even though she was still fairly young- only around her early sixties- the years of stress and heart break over her lost relationships had taken their toll. Weakened and fail Abigail Kirkland passed away of sickness on August twenty-eighth, just three months after her youngest son was married. Arthur's biggest regret in the death of his mother was that she was never able to meet her first and only grandson.
"Hey… c'mon Artie you know I was only messing around. I know that kind of stuff means a lot to you." Alfred said guiltily as he placed a comforting hand on his husband's knee.
"I know, I just… I can't help, but be sentimental sometimes…" Arthur mused sadly as he gazed down at the little boy in his lap; Charlie completely preoccupied with his new pal Winston. "I only wish she could have had a chance to meet him…." He said again as he softly pat his boy's rounded head; his little wisps of dark blonde hair feeling soft to the touch.
"I'm sure she woulda loved him." Alfred smiled down at his better half softly, sending all the reassurance he could through his expression and touch. A sad smile curved up on Arthur's pale lips as he briefly glanced up at his husband with his striking green eyes and then back down to Charlie. His boy, his precious little boy.
"I'm sure she would have…. Well let's not think of sad things today. It is Christmas after all and it's Charlie's first so we should be a cheerful as we humanly can be." Arthur said as he scooped up his little boy and softly snuggled him. Charlie burbled and looked up his father; wonderfully blue eyes all alight and a toothless grin spread on his tiny plump lips.
"Of course we should!" Alfred laughed heartily at that glorious smile on his son's face. "Then after breakfast and cleanup we get to Grandma and Grandpa's house."
Arthur's smile faltered at the mention of 'Grandpa.' "Speaking of the biggest scrooge…" He muttered bitterly.
"Oh c'mon Artie, he's not a scrooge." Alfred protested in his father's defense even though he knew full well that Arthur's words were true. Christmas time in the Jones' home was only ever made cheery by the boundless amounts of energy of Alfred's mother. Lou never believed in any of that Christmas hub-bub that cooperate American seemed to be so fond of. The only thing that he ever did for Alfred and Matthew on Christmas was drag them out of the house in the wee hours of the morning and take them to Christmas Mass at the local church.
Arthur's thick brows arched upwards and he merely looked at Alfred knowing that the American knew what he said was the truth. "Well he… h-he's not… okay… yeah he does kinda have a bah-hum-bug up his butt…"
"Exactly, if it wasn't for your joyous mother I'm sure that's all you would've done on Christmas." Arthur shot back as he handed Charlie off to Alfred while he moved to stand up.
"You know, I'd hate to disrespect my father, but you're probably right…" Alfred admitted in defeat. "But don't you worry Charlie, Papa isn't gonna do the same thing his Papa did to him." Alfred grinned broadly as he gently cuddled his son in his arms. Charlie responded with a soft squeal followed by some happy burbling and gently tugging of his father's similar dark blonde hair. "Should I take that as a 'yay'?" Alfred laughed as he looked up towards his husband.
Arthur smiled down at his husband and son lovingly. When Alfred held Charlie close it really was easy to tell where their similar looks came into play. "I'm sure it's a 'yay', love." Arthur laughed softly as he pat both his boys on their soft ash blonde heads. "Now come on, after we all eat it's off for the rest of Christmas morning."
"Roger dodger, Artie." Alfred grinned happily, that contagious grin reaching even reaching Charlie's lips into his own toothless smile. So far this was turning out to be a wonderful Christmas, but Arthur only hoped it would stay that way.
Next chapter will be longer I promise! Not a long commentary as I have to leave in a few minutes, but like always please review! Thanks so much lovies!