Anonymous said: "we took our kids to santa's workshop and they both wished we would get together" FrUK ;)

"No."

Alfred gaped at him. "Oh, what?! We can't go to the mall and not see Santa! Dad. Dad. Dad." Alfred tried a different tactic. "Francis. Matt. Come on. It's freakin' Santa! Santa!"

Francis smiled, and Arthur saw him squeeze Matthew's hand. Arthur was already thinking of escape routes, and he tried to drag Alfred past the line, but the little bugger dug his heels in and pulled back.

"Come now, Arthur," Francis chided, accent becoming thicker. "Surely we can let the boys—"

"No." Arthur adjusted his tone. "Francis," he began, calmer, "it's going to be expensive. It's one of those package—packaged nonsense. Look." Arthur pointed with the hand holding Alfred's. "You can't just talk to the man; you have to get a picture that costs at least twenty dollars. And we—there are two."

Alfred tugged against his hand like a dog on a leash. "Dad," he drew out the word. "It's Santa. Santa!"

Francis gave him a look, and Arthur glanced away. Arthur wouldn't break. Not over this. Not when he had already bought pretzels, an ice cream, and a new Xbox game. Santa was the final straw.

Francis swung his and Matthew's hands. Arthur focused on that and not the puppy-dog eyes.

"Where is your Christmas spirit?" Francis caught his eyes and smiled. "I am sure it will not be that much. Come now. How often does Santa visit the mall?"

Alfred nodded, furiously. "Seriously!"

Francis looked at Matthew. "What do you think, my bear?" he asked in French.

Matthew nodded, slowly.

Francis grinned at Arthur. "I promise, we will have fun. There is nothing better than pictures to cherish for the rest of our lives."

Arthur sighed and released Alfred's hand. The boy scampered into line, dragging Matthew behind him. Alfred loudly announced that this was their place in line, and for Arthur and Francis to hurry up.

Francis laughed and wrapped an easy arm around Arthur. "Don't worry," he said softly, "you can sit on my knee when the kids go to bed."

Arthur shrugged off Francis' arm, but couldn't stop the smile. Francis laughed again.

Of course, they were the last people to join the line. It stretched past the dividers to form the queue—line, Arthur amended. There were probably ten other families waiting, and each one spent ages ordering their children to look at the camera.

"I bloody hate Christmas," Arthur breathed.

"Is that why you have been so grumpy?" Francis was still smiling that smile, and Arthur couldn't muster up the will to scold him. "Why, darling?"

"Because it's—well." Arthur waved a hand at the surrounding display of fake snow and middle-aged elves. "Truly a winter wonderland." He rolled his eyes. "And Alfred wants absolutely everything, and I practically have to take out a second mortgage on my house to afford the newest gaming system."

Arthur realized he was ranting and snapped his mouth shut.

Francis digested this, then gave a small shrug. "I have always liked Christmas."

Arthur nodded. "Yes. Well. What—what do you like about it?"

"Ah." Francis searched for the words. "Family. Giving. It is a nice time of the year. People actually try to care for one another. They celebrate the end of one year and the beginning of another." A woman dragged her screaming child by. "It is fun."

Arthur stood on his toes to see over heads and checked the line. "Family," he repeated.

"Not the same warm memories?" Francis asked.

Arthur's head whipped around. "I—well. No, not particularly. My brothers and I didn't get along, and they would all come back for the holiday." Arthur checked his watch. "We're going to be here for hours unless—"

"Dad." Alfred hung off Arthur's arm. "Dad, it's taking forever. Dad."

"You should be thankful Santa is even here," Arthur said. "He's a busy man. He doesn't have time to talk to every child, but here he is, taking time out of his busy schedule to listen to you."

Francis chuckled. "Arthur is right, Alfred. But..." He gave Arthur a look. "Maybe we can cut," he whispered.

Alfred's face brightened.

"Papa," Matthew disagreed.

"Francis," Arthur said, sharply. "We can't just jump in front of all these people. That's an awful idea."

"Dad, come on! It's taking forever." Alfred was already plotting, Arthur could see it. "I'll distract—"

"No." Arthur grabbed the back of Alfred's hoodie, just in case. "That is how children get lumps of coal."

Alfred pouted. "But you were, like, just complaining about waiting in line."

"Yes, well, I didn't even want to wait in line. I wanted to—"

"Welcome to the North Pole!" Arthur faced a preppy college girl. Her smile was strained. "Looks like you folks are next! What picture package do we want?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the pricing chart. "None."

The girl's smile didn't falter. "Are we sure? We don't allow for private photography."

"That's fine."

The girl nodded. "That means no pictures on your phones."

Arthur closed his eyes, and Francis stepped in, smooth and steady.

"Thank you," he said. "The kids just want to tell Santa what they want. We can keep it in our memories. And between you and me, Arthur does not have a phone that can take quality pictures, anyways."

The girl's smile seemed a little softer; Arthur looked away.

"Well, kids, Santa is ready to see you."

She stepped out of the way, and Alfred rushed forward. He practically threw himself into the Santa's lap. Matthew hung back until Francis gave him a light nudge forward. He stood a few feet away, but the Santa didn't seem to mind.

"Well, what do—"

"I want Francis to move in with us," Alfred said loudly. "He's the best. He lets me stay up late, and play games for longer than two hours, and that kid, there, his name is Mattie, and he's smart, and helps me on homework. But Francis is—"

"Alfred!" Arthur took a step forward, knew he must be blushing like mad. "Alfred, that is inappropriate! Honestly, Francis' and my relationship is of none of your business. Nor should you discuss it with strangers." Arthur dragged Alfred away. "I'm terribly sorry—"

Matthew trailed after Arthur. Francis was laughing.

Matthew walked next to Arthur. "I would like that, too."

Arthur blinked. "Did you two plan this?"

Alfred scoffed. "Dad, there's—"

Francis captured Arthur's hand in his own. "I might have had something to do with it."

"Francis."

Alfred tugged on Arthur's other hand. "It's a good idea!"

"You two are going to be the death of me."