Invincible - Ch. 4

[starrdust411]

Title: Invincible
Character(s) or Pairing(s): FACES featuring FrUK. In this chapter: Prussia, Romano, Spain, implied Spamano and GerIta
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, Slash, Action/Adventure, Implied Past Mpreg, Character Death
Summary: After a series of lawsuits forces him and the rest of the Supers into retirement, Arthur Kirkland finds himself trapped living a mundane suburban life. When adventure calls he's quick to respond, but how will it affect the rest of his family?

Prologue|Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Life's Incredible Again

Arthur woke that morning to the pleasant sensation of something warm and wet being pressed against his jaw. He hummed in response, too tired to do more, and soon found the warm moving from along his chin to down his neck until something firm began to sink itself into his skin.

"Francis," he moaned. His eyes, still clouded by sleep, slipped open and found his husband pressed firmly against his side. It was early morning, he could tell as much for the sun's golden rays filtering in from the gaps in the curtains and for a moment Arthur greeted the sight with panic. "What time is it? Why didn't my alarm go off?"

"Hush now, mon cher, there is still time yet," Francis hummed, pulling his mouth away from Arthur's throat just long enough to speak. "Besides, is this not a more pleasant way to wake up than any silly alarm?"

As Francis's warm breath caressed his neck and the bruise that had been created there began to throb, Arthur couldn't help but agree. Francis soon went back to attacking Arthur's throat, using his lips and teeth to turn every inch of his skin bright red. As lethargy was pushed away in favor of arousal, Arthur slowly began to remember that he had nowhere to go this morning and allowed himself to savor this moment. Francis's lips continued to travel lower, ghosting over the thin fabric of his t-shirt before settling on the cloth of his boxers. Arthur felt his breath hitch as Francis tugged at the waist band of his shorts, pulling them lower until his hardening length was exposed to the stuffy air of the bedroom.

"Francis don't," he chided, although every fiber of his being was tingling with want. "The children will hear!"

"Then you will just have to keep quiet."

Francis didn't give him much time to get ready, as he himself needed no time at all to be prepared, and thus Arthur found himself being swallowed whole in one gulp and could only clamp a hand firmly over his mouth in order to muffle the cry welling up in his throat. Arthur imagined that even without his powers Francis would have been quiet good at this, but with his elastic mouth he was a master of unparallel skill. He felt the tip of his length hit the back of Francis's throat just as the man hollowed his cheeks and caressed every inch of him with a tongue that could expand and contort itself to every possible shape and size.

His body tingled and Arthur had to fight against the urge to come right then and there. He concentrated on keeping his right hand securely over his mouth as his left hand groped and floundered uselessly in the air. Arthur was tempted to dig his fingers into the mattress, but the last time he had done that his ears had instantly been greeted by the sound of fabric ripping as he tore through the sheets and top layers of the bedding beneath. Instead he choose to lay his free hand on the back of Francis's head, knowing that no matter how much pressure he put on his skull, Francis would be able to withstand it.

Slowly, Francis began to pull his lips away from him, his teeth grating against Arthur's slick skin. He shuddered at Francis's agonizingly slow pace and the air hitting his spit coated flesh. Just as he began to grow accustomed to the exposure, Francis's lips traveled downward once again, swallowing him at a painfully leisurely pace. The urge to cry out and groan with pleasure was almost too excruciating to resist and Arthur could see his release inching closer as Francis continued with his meticulous pattern.

He lost all grasp on his control when Francis expanded his tongue, wrapping his limber muscle around Arthur like the rope on a tether ball poll. His muscles were already shuddering beyond control when Francis decided to up the ante and slipped his tongue out to cradle Arthur's balls all while his mouth stayed wrapped around his cock. Arthur came with a shuddering cry, one hand clenching down on his mouth while his other squeezed down on the back of Francis's head.

"Gently, mon cher," Francis chided, cringing visibly as he untangled his hair from Arthur's grasp. "You do not want to pull out all of my gorgeous hair, do you?"

Arthur was barely able to muster up the strength to roll his eyes at the comment as he laid back and allowed the sweat to pour from his skin and for his mind to escape the pleasant post coital fog.

Francis tittered, beaming pleasantly at his handy work. "Well, I do think you have just enough time for a shower before breakfast," he told him as he slipped out from between the sheets. "I will go wake the children and then make something wonderful for us to eat." Francis was practically glowing as he placed a quick kiss to Arthur's cheek before grabbing his dressing gown and heading out the door.

Arthur smiled at Francis's cheerful mood. It had been some time since he had last seen his husband so chipper this early in the morning and even longer since the two had engaged in such early morning activities. He laughed softly to himself as he rolled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. He would have to return the favor in the near future.

He hastily stripped off his clothes and stepped under the spray of the shower head and promptly began to scrub himself in preparation for a pretend day of work. Arthur didn't have any particular plans for the day, but he reasoned that his time would probably be best spent in search of a new job. After all, even if the money he had received from dismantling the Omnidroid would be more than enough for his family to live off of for the next ten years, this facade wasn't something that Arthur wanted to keep up forever.

Yet even with that thought in mind Arthur couldn't help but frown as his hands were met with the soft flab of his skin. Memories of the way his Super suit had barely covered his doughy body filled his mind and Arthur had to wonder why he had never noticed just how fat he had gotten. He had been well aware that he had let himself go a bit, but he hadn't thought it was this bad.

Switching off the faucet, Arthur stepped out of the shower and headed over to the mirror mounted above the sink. He wiped away the condensation on the glass and proceeded to study himself carefully, taking note that his once lean, muscular frame had all but disappeared underneath a thick layer of pudge. Even his face seemed to have gotten rounder and the lines that decorated his eyes and mouth didn't help much either. It was hard not to cringe at the sight and harder still not to wonder how Francis still found any desire to sleep with him in this pathetic state.

"Arthur! Your breakfast is ready!"

He grimaced at the sound of Francis's voice. He didn't exactly feel hungry, but he knew better than to reject food from Francis.

Pushing aside the feelings of frustration and self loathing that were currently swirling inside of him, Arthur swiftly toweled himself dry and got dressed. At first he pulled out his usual work attire -- a pair of khakis, a white linen shirt and a tie -- but then thought better of it. As far as Francis knew, he had gotten a promotion and given that fact, wearing the same old clothes would look a bit suspicious. With that thought in mind Arthur reached into the back of the closet and pulled out his old suit, the one he hadn't worn in years and was currently covered in a thin layer of dust, but still fit him just fine. The dust was easily removed with the help of a lint roller and the deep gray jacket went well with his shirt and tie. The only flaw was the wrinkles in his slacks, but he hoped that Francis wouldn't notice that minor detail.

Stepping out of the bedroom he headed towards the kitchen where he found the boys sipping at orange juice and eating a bowl of their favorite colorful sugar coated cereal while Angelique sat in her highchair, nibbling at plain Cheerios. He greeted each of them with a kiss to the cheek, even Alfred who squirmed and grimaced in protest, before taking a seat himself.

As soon as he sat down, Francis deposited his plate in front of him with a fond smile and a glimmer in his eyes. "My, don't you look smart?" he beamed, but his face quickly fell when his eyes drifted a few inches lower. "Except for your pants. Take them off."

"What?" he sputtered. "Francis-"

"You cannot go in for your first day like this!" Francis chided. "Take off your pants. I will iron them while you eat."

Arthur grumbled under his breath as he reluctantly did as he was told. The children giggled as Arthur stepped out of his trousers and handed them over to Francis who smiled triumphantly at him. "Just don't burn them," he huffed as Francis disappeared out of the kitchen.

When he sat back down he found himself glowering at the plate of cheese coated scrambled eggs, butter covered toast, and pan fried bacon that awaited him. Suddenly the reason for his weight gain became abundantly clear. There was no doubt in his mind that a few things needed to change. He grimaced as he pushed aside his bacon and tried his best to scrape the cheese off of his eggs.

"You're not gonna eat your bacon Dad?" Alfred asked, eyeing the strips eagerly.

"No Alfred, but you can have them if you want."

Alfred eagerly accepted the bacon (and a piece of toast he took so quickly that Arthur had to recount the bread just to see that it was missing) and ate them with such fury that it seemed as if the boy were afraid they'd be taken away.

"There all better," Francis announced as he re-entered the kitchen with the pressed and starched trousers in his hands. "And all because of your wonderful husband. No need to thank me, of course."

Arthur gave him a half hearted smile as he accepted the pants and slipped them back on. A part of him felt awful for making Francis put forth the effort when it was only going to go to waste, but he shrugged the feeling off. At least it was another excuse for Francis to improve his skills with the iron and from the way his scorch free slacks looked, Arthur could already tell that the man had gotten much better.

"Thank you Francis," he muttered, offering him the quick peck on the cheek that Arthur knew he was expecting.

The gesture was enough to cause his blue eyes to shine with delight, but that look quickly faded when Francis took in the amount of food left behind on Arthur's plate. "Did you not like your breakfast?" Francis asked with concern clear in his tone.

"No, it was fine," he said quickly, because he knew how temperamental Francis was about his cooking. "Just wanted to eat light today. Don't want to be dragged down by a big breakfast on my first day."

"Alright," Francis said slowly as he hesitantly accepted the lie. "Does that mean you do not want the lunch I packed you?"

It was difficult to resist the urge to grimace at the idea of the usual lunch Francis packed for him -- a sandwich made with a buttery croissant and slathered in mayonnaise -- and even harder to turn it down when he knew that Francis's pride had already been wounded that morning. "No, of course I'll take it," he assured him, already considering ways to dispose of the meal without leaving any evidence behind.

Francis smiled as he deposited the brown paper bag into Arthur's hands and the mere weight of it was enough to turn his stomach. "Well, you should probably hurry or else you will be late."

Arthur frowned thoughtfully as he looked at the clock mounted on the wall and saw that it was already nearly eight. "You're right. I should get going... I just need to grab my suitcase."

He didn't wait for a response as he hurried back into their bedroom where he dug his briefcase out of the closet. He quickly stuffed a pair of sweatpants, running shoes, and a t-shirt inside its empty compartment. Thanks to his abilities, going to a gym wouldn't do him any good, but a trip to the train yard would suit him just fine. Arthur reasoned that dedicating one morning to a light exercise would do him a world of good and as soon as he was done he would go back to hunting for a new job.

--

Francis frowned as he flipped through the pictures displayed on his monitor. He had taken photos for Antonio's cafe just as he had promised, but he wasn't happy with the quality of his results. Many of the images were blurred, the lighting wasn't right, and a thousand more little imperfections kept popping up to greet him him. Clearly he would end up deleting more photos than he would like and the ones that he saved would need some serious attention when he edited them, which would eat up more time than he had at the moment seeing how it was already past five and he still hadn't started dinner or finished the laundry or made sure that the boys didn't need any help with their homework.

A flutter of papers and a sudden gust of wind alerted him to Alfred's presence and it was only thanks to his parental instincts that he was able to spot the bag of chips the boy was clutching in his hand. "Come back here," he chided, stretching his arm across the living room and towards the hall. He had just managed to catch Alfred by the end of his shirt before he could disappear into his bedroom. Alfred stopped in his tracks, turning to pout at Francis as he plucked the plastic bag from his grasp. "No snacks. You will spoil your appetite."

"But you haven't even started dinner yet," Alfred protested. "And I'm starving!"

"Can we have poutine for dinner tonight, Papa?" Matthew asked, suddenly appearing at his side.

Francis answered the question with a tired sigh while running a gentle hand through the boy's wavy hair. "Perhaps," he relented.

"Can we have hamburgers too?" Alfred put in.

"We had hamburgers last week," Matthew protested.

"Yeah, but burgers are awesome!"

The argument was interrupted by the gentle vibrations and chimes of his phone. Checking the display screen Francis was mildly surprised to see Arthur's name flashing in front of his eyes. It was unusual for Arthur to call after work or before work or at work. It was simply unusual for Arthur to call at all during a work day. Clearly this was an emergency.

"Hello? Arthur?" Francis answered, a slight note of worry coloring his words. "Is something wrong?"

The boys seemed to sense their father's anxiety and quickly fell silent.

"Come outside," was Arthur's cryptic reply and Francis noticed right away that there was something off about his tone.

"Why?" he asked slowly.

"I have something I want to show you."

"You are home already?"

"Of course I'm home!" Arthur snapped. "Just come outside and stop ruining my surprise." With an irritated huff Arthur proceeded to hang up the phone, leaving Francis feeling more confused than before.

"Is something wrong, Pops?" Alfred asked, concern coloring his words.

"Is Dad alright?"

"I... I think so," Francis began hesitantly as he stood to head towards the door. Angelique, who had been playing quietly in her playpen, whined in protest at being ignored and Francis quickly went to scoop the baby into his arms before once again heading towards the door.

When he stepped outside he watched as a sleek navy blue sports car with a silver finish cruised down the street before pulling into their driveway. His eyes nearly tripled in size when Arthur stepped out of the driver's seat and smiled proudly towards them.

"Whoa! Dad bought a car!" Alfred cried and Francis had to place a firm hand onto the boy's shoulder to keep him from quite literally zooming over towards the vehicle in his excited state.

"You... you bought an Aston Martin?" Francis stammered, too stunned to even remember how to walk properly. He merely stood on the front steps staring as the sleek vehicle glimmered in the light of the setting sun. The boys trotted over to the car, staring and cheering in awe at the sight of the magnificent machine.

"Incredible isn't it?" Arthur gushed as he stepped away from the car to walk up beside him. He pried Angelique out of Francis's quickly loosening grasp and gently tossed her a few inches in the air. "Doesn't she remind you of the Invinc-obile? She's pre-owned so there are a few miles on her, but I got her for a good price."

Francis blinked at the sound of Angelique's giggles, turning to watch the fond glimmer in Arthur's green eyes as he continued to play with their daughter and Francis realized then what had been so strange about his tone. Arthur was giddy.

"What happened to our agreement to consult each other on all major purchases?" Francis asked bitterly, because he couldn't see how the man could chew him out for wanting to buy a new vacuum one minute and then purchase a luxury sports car the next. True that had been on a different day with a different salary, but it was still insulting none the less. "And exactly how do you think we are going to pay for this? You have barely had your new job for more than a week and already you are spending the money you have not earned yet! And... Mon Dieu! I am beginning to sound like you!"

Arthur sneered at the comment and Francis was happy to see a familiar expression on his face. "Don't sound so distraught now."

He sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and trying to find the excitement he should be feeling at this new purchase, but it was difficult to shift from thinking "we can't afford it" to "let's just enjoy it" after so many years of living with a tight belt. Perhaps if he were still in the days of his frivolous trust-fund wielding shop around the clock youth he could oh and aw right along with the boys, but right now he couldn't find that part of himself.

"You are a bit too young to be having a midlife crisis, Arthur Kirkland," Francis said at last. "If anyone in this family should be running around buying luxury cars, it should be me."

Arthur smiled smugly at him, a reaction that Francis hadn't been anticipating, before pulling out a spare set of keys from his back pocket. "Well I didn't keep all the fun for myself."

Francis frowned when Arthur proceeded to drop the car keys into the palm of his hands. It was only when Francis noticed a distinctly different metallic logo jingling at the end of the keys that he saw another car pull into their driveway, this one silver and boxy and sporting a bright red bow on the hood.

"It's a Bentley!" Alfred squealed gleefully.

"I suppose we can share in the fun part of my 'mid life crisis, '" he teased as he pressed a kiss to Francis's cheek.

If Arthur continued speaking, Francis didn't hear him. He was too busy focusing on how his vision was being swallowed up by massive black spots. His knees soon gave out and he found himself skinning to the ground before Arthur could think to catch him. Francis promised himself that when he came to he would give Arthur the best sex of his life.

--

"Dad, can I borrow some money?"

Arthur quickly put away his check book at the sound of Alfred's voice. He tucked it back into the top drawer of his work desk and locked it tight. He didn't usually lock his desk drawer, because Francis and the boys always stayed away from his den even when he wasn't home, but he simply couldn't risk having any of them rummaging through his things anymore.

"What do you need it for, lad?" Arthur asked, turning towards the doorway in order to give Alfred his full attention.

"Nothing," was the boy's instant response and Arthur found himself frowning at the answer.

"Well if it's 'nothing' then you don't really need it," he countered.

Alfred pouted, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the next as he reconsidered his words. "Well, there's nothing I really wanted to buy," he explained. "I just wanted some money for when I go to the mall later."

"Fair enough," Arthur began slowly, leaning back in his chair and studying the boy carefully. "And how were you planning to get there?" Once again Alfred shifted under his scrutiny and Arthur saw the answer quite clearly. "Come here, Alfred," he instructed, motioning for the boy to approach him.

As soon as Alfred was standing by his side Arthur lifted him up and placed him on his lap. He knew that Alfred was too old for the gesture, but the boy was already moving into his 'I'm too cool to be around my parents anymore' phase and Arthur wanted to take advantage of the time where the boy didn't protest too greatly against such displays of affection. Sure enough, Alfred squirmed and pulled away for just a second before settling down when he realized that his father wasn't going to put him down.

"How long has it been since we've had some time together, just the two of us?" Arthur asked seriously.

Alfred frowned, considering the question carefully, before answering with a shrug of his shoulders. "I dunno."

"I think that means far too long," Arthur chuckled as he gave Alfred's back an affectionate pat. "What do you say instead of going to the mall with your friends I take you somewhere where you can run as fast as you can without anyone seeing you?"

Alfred's eyes instantly lit up like the morning sun and once again Arthur knew he had his answer.

--

"How much further Dad?" Alfred whined, clutching his football (the American kind) to his chest eagerly as they continued their little trek.

Arthur smiled over his shoulder reassuringly before continuing on his way. It was late in the day and the drive had eaten up most of the sunlight, but Arthur felt certain that it was worth it just to spend this time with Alfred. When they finally reached the clearing of grass, Arthur was able to use his sharp eyes to survey the area. There was nothing but gentle, slopping hills and lush meadow for as far as he could see. No one in sight to pry on them and that thought caused his smile to widen.

"Alright Alfred, hand me the ball."

Alfred beamed, and did as he was told, tossing the leathery, oblong shaped ball into Arthur's waiting grasp. Arthur held the ball carefully, adjusting his hand so that his fingers were caressing the laces. That was the proper way to hold a football wasn't it? He had never been very familiar with the sport, but Alfred loved it. He'd attempted to explain it to Arthur several times, but each time he just ended up tuning out his son's chattering.

"I'm not going to hold back now," Arthur warned the boy. "So be ready."

He watched as the boy gave him an eager nod, but made no further move to prepare. Alfred didn't start sprinting or even fall into a running stance, only stayed staring eagerly up at Arthur. He gave a soft chuckle at the sight before winding himself up to throw. In an instant the ball was out of his hands and flying towards the sun. It was already a speck on the horizon when he turned his gaze back towards Alfred.

"See if you can catch... Alfred?"

There was only a puff a smoke where Alfred once stood and before Arthur could even think to look around him for any signs of him, a gust of wind swelled up beside him. He blinked down at Alfred who was pinning him with a wide smile as he giggled at his own accomplishment, his football clutched tightly to his chest. Arthur's heart filled with pride when he noted that the boy hadn't as much as broken a sweat.

"Good catch Alfred," he laughed as Alfred casually tossed the football to him, "but I do believe the object of the game is for you to throw it back."

"Well I run faster than I throw," Alfred pointed out and the two soon found themselves dissolving into a fit of giggles.

--
Arthur couldn't recall the last time he had given Francis flowers. In fact, if he truly sat back and thought about it, he would have to say he had never given Francis a proper bouquet, but he had never been very good at gift giving. Francis had always been the one to present him with things and the first gift he had ever bestowed upon Arthur, then Captain Invincible, was a dozen yellow roses. The gesture had been meant as a (sarcastic) peace offering, but Invincible had responded to the offer by tearing the flowers to mulch. Tonight he hoped to make up for that little incident.

Francis spotted him the moment he entered the kitchen and a pleasant smile tugged at his lips at the sight of the bouquet of lilies. It was a common misconception that Francis's favorite flower was the rose, but Arthur knew him well enough to know that while he was fond of roses he adored lilies.

"Flowers? How thoughtful," Francis smirked, turning his attention away from the stove and towards the offered lilies. Francis accepted the bouquet and proceeded to bring them to his nose to take a long, thoughtful sniff. "You are losing your touch, mon cher," he hummed thoughtfully. "Last week you gave me a car. This week it is merely flowers that I must be content with?"

Normally Arthur would have rolled his eyes and told Francis to be content with what he had, but not tonight as he had been prepared for such a reaction. "I thought you might say something like that," he smirked as he pulled out the small plastic bag he had been hiding behind his back and deposited it into Francis's hand.

It was difficult to fight back against the chuckle bubbling on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to swallow it down as he watched Francis's blue eyes widen as he read the label on top of the pouch. "Fois gras?" he gasped, fumbling with both the bag of duck liver and the bouquet of flowers. "I have not had fois gras since... since my graduate studies!-" He practically swooned as he held the little pouch to his chest, his little French heart no doubt swelling in anticipation of all the meals he could prepare with the prized ingredient.

"Well enjoy it, because it was a pain to come across," Arthur told him as he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.

"I hope this does not cut into the grocery budget," Francis said after a few minutes of day dreaming.

"Don't worry, you won't be spreading your preserves on bargain bread or making sandwiches with government cheese," he grumbled before taking a long sip from the bottle.

Francis nodded as he placed his gifts aside for the time being before his expression turned serious. "Well, do you think you can bring yourself to do me another favor?"

Arthur felt his face instantly twist into a frown. He had a feeling whatever favor Francis had in mind was going to be quite costly. Not that they couldn't afford it at the moment, but still, it was the principal. "What did you break this time? The disposal? The dryer? Wrap your Bentley around a tree?"

"It is nothing like that!" Francis huffed irritably, before quickly shifting back to his mask of seriousness. "I want you to have a talk with Mathieu."

He blinked at the unexpected request. Matthew was, after all, the last child he would have expected to be a problem given his quiet, well behaved nature. "Matthew? What did he do?"

"I got a phone call from his principal," Francis sighed. "She says that his teachers have been complaining about him disappearing during the day, but I think that he may just be going invisible. I asked him about it, but he would not say anything."

Arthur nodded at Francis's words. He had been noticing that Matthew had been going invisible at the oddest times and a part of him wondered whether or not it was intentional. Invisibility wasn't a very common power, but Arthur did recall hearing that the Supers who possessed it would often fight to keep it in check and that if left untrained those Supers could find themselves struggling to stay visible.

On the other hand, it was quite possible that Matthew was just using his ability as an excuse to avoid others. After all, he was entering into a very confusing age and juggling powers and puberty couldn't be easy. Arthur himself hadn't begun to develop his abilities until he was well into high school, but Matthew and Alfred had been born with their powers. It was just another side effect of having two Supers for parents.

"I'll have a chat with him. Where is he?"

"In his room," Francis said, nodding towards the other end of the house. He offered Arthur a quick peck on the cheek before allowing him to go on his way.

He left the kitchen then, walking passed Alfred who was currently playing video games in the living room, and down the hall towards the boys' room. Arthur peaked into the seemingly empty bedroom, his eyes looking from one end to the other in search of one of the two occupants. He tsked at the sight of one unmade bed and a sea of clothes and toys spread out across the barely visible carpet. Alfred, he noted with a shake of his head.

"Matthew?" he called out as he took a step into the bedroom.

"Right here."

He jumped at the sudden sound of the quiet voice and twisted around to see Matthew standing behind him, a sheepish expression on his face. "Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Don't worry about that, lad," he chuckled as he rustled the boy's hair affectionately. "But I did want to have a quick word with you. Are you in the middle of anything?"

Matthew responded with a shake of his head before waiting patiently for Arthur to continue.

Arthur closed the door behind them, before moving to sit down on top of Matthew's neatly made bed and motioned for the boy to follow suit. Matthew did as he was instructed, settling down on the mattress beside Arthur without making as much as a peep.

Arthur sighed at this. He had to wonder what had caused Alfred to become so restless and independent while Matthew only became more withdrawn with every passing day. "Your Papa and I are worried about you, son," Arthur began, getting straight to the heart of the issue. "You've been so distant lately. Is there something the matter?"

A slight flush began to spread across Matthew's cheeks, his eyes sinking towards the ground at the knowledge that his behavior had not gone completely unobserved. Yet when Matthew did not respond to his question Arthur found himself growing a bit frustrated. He shifted a bit closer to the boy, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Matthew responded to the gesture by stiffening and going transparent for a split second. That simply would not do.

"Matthew, you know that you can always talk to me, don't you?" he said gently.

Matthew responded with a soft "Yes" and Arthur was relieved that the boy was at least speaking.

"That's good," he told him, giving his shoulder a quick pat. "After all, I care for you and I just want what's best for you, so if anything has been bothering you lately, anything at all, you can discuss it with me."

He watched as Matthew shifted uncomfortably, his eyes glancing around the room hesitantly, and Arthur knew right away that the boy had something on his mind. He was tempted to prompt him further, but decided against it. Matthew would come out with it when he was ready.

"Well, uh," Matthew began, the blush returning to his cheeks as he spoke. Arthur waited for him to continue, giving his arm gentle pat for encouragement. "Are you and Papa alright?"

Arthur felt himself stiffen at the question, because it was the last thing he had been expecting Matthew to say. "Of... of course we're alright," he answered as soon as he recovered himself. "What made you think that we weren't?"

Even as the question left his lips, Arthur knew right away that it was a foolish thing to say. After all, Matthew may have been young, but even he would have noticed the way Arthur and Francis had been drifting apart little more than a month ago. Yet the idea that he may have been the reason for his son's discomfort made Arthur feel like an absolute heel.

"Well, you and Papa used to fight a lot," Matthew explained slowly. "And that wasn't good, but I got used to it. Then... then you stopped talking and now you're both happy all the time and..."

"And you're worried that we're going to go back to not talking again," Arthur finished when Matthew lost his nerve and his words began to fade away.

Matthew answered with a weak little nod and Arthur felt his heart clench in his chest when he noticed the slivers of tears prickling in the boy's deep blue eyes. Arthur knew then that he wasn't a heel, he was an ass. He couldn't believe that he had been so self-centered. It had been bad enough for him to shut down and allow himself to drift away from Francis, but to turn a blind eye to what their crumbling relationship had been doing to Matthew. His stomach twisted as he remembered the look in Alfred's eyes not long ago when he and Francis had been screaming at each other. It hit him then that not one, but both of his boys and been sitting back and watching their marriage crumble. He wasn't an ass, he was dirt.

He gathered Matthew into his arms and held him against his chest, careful not to squeeze too hard for fear of hurting the poor boy. "It's alright, Mattie," he assured as he gave his back a soothing pat. "Your Papa and I were just going through a rough patch, but the two of us are a team and as such we'll always be united against the forces of..." He found himself trailing off then, not really certain where he had been planning to go with that train of thought. "The point is that we're going to work on communicating better so you won't have to worry about us fighting too much or too little ever again."

A soft laugh escaped from Matthew's lips and Arthur felt himself relaxing at the sound.

"Now what do you say that we do something fun? Just the two of us?" he offered. "I know. How about if this weekend, I take you to the zoo? We can see their new polar bear exhibit. Won't that be fun?"

Matthew nodded, wrapping his arms around Arthur and offering him a quick squeeze. Arthur smiled and eagerly returned the hug.

---

"Angelique, you are the strangest little thing," Arthur informed the girl as he filled up one of the many little bowls scattered around the bathtub with warm water. "You must be the only baby in the world who actually enjoys bath time."

Angelique didn't respond to his comment, because she was too busy playing with her little rubber fishes and plastic turtle to even acknowledge her father's words. Arthur didn't mind and took the opportunity to gently pour the water over her dark brown hair while she was still distracted by her toys. A happy little chirp escaped Angelique's lips as the water cascaded down her, erasing the soapy suds that had been clinging to her head. She celebrated their disappearance by slapping the water eagerly, her little hands creating surprisingly large bursts of water that scattered around and poured over the sides of the tub.

"Settle down, settle down!" Arthur chided as he gently grabbed her squirming arms in his hands, effectively ending the little tsunami. "Any more of that and the whole bathroom will be flooded."

"Dada," Angelique chattered as she pushed one of her little fish towards him before popping one of the bubbles in the water. "Dada Dada!"

"Yes, yes, Dad's here," he sighed, smiling as he shifted against the smooth porcelain and lifted Angelique into his arms. "And Dad's getting pruney. So what's say we-"

There was hardly a knock to be heard before the knob was twisted and the door flung open. "Arthur," Francis began as he came marching into the bathroom without as much as a muttered "excuse me" before he barged in. "Would you...?" Francis's words came to a slow halt when his eyes fell on Arthur as he took in the scene for the first time. Arthur squirmed, his face turning several shades of red, as the stunned silence stretched on and on between them. "You are in the tub."

"Dammit Francis! Knock first!"

"You are taking a bath together? How sweet!"

"Get the hell out of here!"

"Do not move! I need my camera!"

"Don't you dare! Get back here and close this door!"

They went on like that for a good five minutes, splashing and shouting and fumbling about the little bathroom like a couple of fools and creating a mess far worse than anything Angelique could have managed on her own. After a while, Arthur managed to get himself and the baby out of the tub and toweled dry, all while preventing Francis from snapping a single picture.

"I hope you won't tell anyone about this," Arthur muttered as he focused on patting dry the last drops of water from Angelique's hair. "Especially not those damn friends of yours." Francis offered him nothing more than a distant hum and Arthur could tell by the way his eyes were currently focused on Arthur's bare chest that he hadn't heard a word he'd said. "Francis, what are you-"

"I have not seen you naked in this much light for some time," Francis said at last, his words surprisingly thoughtful as he reached out his fingers to caress Arthur's middle. "You have gotten so thin! What happened to your belly? Your love handles?" Arthur yelped when Francis actually gave his sides a studious pinch only to find that there was very little flab for him to grab onto. "What happened to my dear chubby husband?"

Arthur huffed, shifting Angelique in his arms in order to use her as away to cover his suddenly painfully exposed body. He hadn't exactly been hiding himself from Francis, but he had never exactly told him about the strict diet and exercise plan he had put himself on. He didn't think Francis would understand, not with how he had maintained himself so well over the years. Admitting that he had become insecure about his body... well it just seemed painfully juvenile even to his own ears.

"So, you wanted to keep me as your own personal fat joke, is that it?" he accused as he attempted to brush past Francis.

As usual, it was an impossible task as Francis quickly blocked his path by wrapping his arms around Arthur and pressing their bodies close together. "Oh Arthur," he chuckled, his tone condescending yet sincere in a way that only Francis could manage. "You could lose twenty pounds and then gain a hundred more and I would not care. I would love you just the same."

He swallowed the skeptical groan that longed to bubble its way towards his lips. Somehow he still could not bring himself to believe Francis when he promised such impossible things. "You're getting yourself all wet you twit," Arthur chided while he gently pushed Francis away from him before marching down the hall and towards Angelique's nursery. "What did you barge in there to bother me about anyway?"

"I wanted to know if you would mind terribly watching the children this Saturday," he said as he followed close behind Arthur. "I have been hired for a party."

"Another wedding?" he asked before gently setting Angelique down on the changing table and pulling out a clean diaper.

"No, an anniversary." Francis walked over to Angelique's dresser and pulled out a pair of powder blue pajamas with little pink starfish. "Twenty five years," he said with a sigh as he handed the pajamas over to Arthur. "Such a long time."

"That's not so long," Arthur huffed as he slipped Angelique into the offered nightclothes. "We've known each other for nearly..." He decided to stop there, because just thinking the words "twenty years" made his joints feel stiff.

Francis offered him a wry smile, having spotted Arthur's hesitance, as he gently pried Angelique's now clothed form away from Arthur and held her gently in his arms. "As I said, it is such a long time," he sighed. "So you will watch the children?"

"Of course I will. They're my children."

"Good," Francis said, smiling in approval. "I should get going."

"Going? Going where?"

"To Antonio's," he explained. "It is Wednesday and it is his turn to host card night."

"Oh. I suppose I'll be ordering pizza then."

"No need. I have already made something for you and the children to eat." Angelique gave a yawn and rested her head on Francis's shoulder. He smiled at her, offering her back a gentle pat. "You should hurry and feed this one before she falls asleep in my arms."

"Oh yes, she's had quite the day," Arthur teased as he placed a hand on Angelique's loose curls. Her hair was still a bit damp and she coed in soft approval at his touch. "All that sleeping and eating and watching television has really taken its toll on her."

"Not to mention looking absolutely adorable while everyone tells her how wonderful she is," Francis added smugly. "She learned that from me."

"Of course she did," Arthur chuckled.

He watched as Francis rubbed his cheek against Angelique's hair, a quiet smile playing on his lips as the baby closed her eyes and gripped his shirt with one sleepy fist. It was hard to believe that years ago Francis had turned his nose up at the very notion of having children and now he was probably the best father any child could ask for. Suddenly Arthur felt the need to say something, even if he didn't know exactly what that something was.

"Francis," Arthur began hesitantly. "You know... I just wanted to say that, well, even though we've known each for so long you... You're still very dear to me and..." He sighed, worrying his lip as he struggled to come up with something. Even after all this time he was terrible when it came to putting his feelings into words. "We should do something special. Just the two of us. Perhaps go out to dinner. Somewhere nice."

Francis smiled at him and Arthur saw the little crow's feet by his eyes and the gentle lines near his mouth and he felt certain that Francis had only grown more handsome over the years. "I would like that very much," Francis told him. "And perhaps when I get home, we can play a special game." He pinned Arthur with a wide grin as he tugged at the towel still wrapped around his waist. "Something that involves you wearing only this."

"Dammit Francis, I was trying to be romantic," Arthur snapped as he slapped the eager hand way.

"Yes, but you are so bad at it."

Arthur gave an indignant huff as he, carefully, lifted Angelique out of Francis's embrace. "Oh, go get drunk with your rowdy friends, you lech."

---

Francis tried in vain to hold back the heavy huffs and groans that were churning in his throat as he climbed the last few flights of stairs towards Antonio's floor. It didn't seem fair that he had to drive all the way downtown just to be greeted by a broken elevator. It would have been more than a bit considerate for Antonio to tell him these things in advance, especially when he lived on the top floor of a twelve story building, but his friend was so scatter brained that the thought probably hadn't even crossed his mind.

He thanked his lucky stars when he finally reached the final floor and took a moment to catch his breath, settling down heavily on the top of the stairs and taking deep, greedy gulps of air. It was times such as this that Francis realized just how out of shape he was. In his younger days he probably would have been able to sprint up these steps without breaking a sweat, but now he felt ready for a shower and a long nap. He silently promised himself that when he got home he would ask Arthur about whatever diet he had put himself on and join him right away. Apparently spending thirty minutes on the treadmill in their garage while Angelique took her afternoon nap was not good enough.

Once Francis felt certain that he would not black out any time soon, he decided to stand up. He took a moment to straighten himself out -- running a careful hand through his hair, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes, and wiping the sweat off of his brow -- before gathering his things and heading towards Antonio's apartment. When he reached the destination, he gave the door a quick rap and waited patiently for someone to let him in.

Less than a second had passed before the sound of belligerent Italian greeted his ears. The door soon swung open and Francis found himself greeted by Lovino's perpetual scowl. "It's about time you got here, dammit," Lovino snapped as he clenched the door knob with a grip so tight it turned his knuckles white. "It's bad enough that I have to put up with this stupid game night shit, the least you could do is be on time so we won't have to wait up all night for you."

Francis would have explained that he had gotten caught up at home and that the broken elevator hadn't helped matters either, but he knew Lovino well enough to know that he didn't want to hear his excuses. He just wanted to yell. "Here are your photographs," Francis sighed, handing over the yellow envelope that had been buried on top of his work desk for a few days now. "I am sorry I could not bring them sooner."

"You should be sorry, dammit," Lovino huffed as he snatched the envelope out of Francis's hands. "We've been waiting for these pictures for over a week!"

Lovino continued to grumble on and on, but Francis quickly tuned him out. The one nice thing about being around Lovino was that his sour disposition always made Francis appreciate Arthur more. Arthur may not like his friends very much, but he was never so openly hostile towards them. Not that Francis would ever say as much to anyone, especially not Antonio. He understood what it was like to fall for someone who was so starkly different from you and Francis knew that Antonio loved Lovino dearly.

Francis still recalled when the two had first met. It was around the time that Francis and Antonio, or rather Monsieur Élastique and El Infierno, had been recruited by the agency. They had been called in to be fitted for costumes and Lovino had been working as an assistant to his younger brother, a position that to this very day brought him nothing but shame. He remembered the way Lovino had grumbled and groaned about the absurdity of being forced to work under his younger sibling with such venomous fury during his fitting, that Élastique had completely tuned him out, not even bothering to offer the young man a flirtatious glance.

Infierno on the other hand had been far less aloof and had actually listened to Lovino's complaints with sincere interest. When Lovino's tirade had come to an end, Infierno had turned to him with nothing sort of genuine interest and asked the question Lovino had probably never heard before: "Well if you don't want to work here, what would you rather do?"

Lovino hadn't answered. He merely stared at him with wide eyes and burning red cheeks. Élastique had known then that Lovino had been smitten by Infierno, something that he would not admit to himself for many many years.

When Lovino finally stomped away with his pictures, Francis took the opportunity to let himself inside. He saw Gilbert sitting in the living room and staring at the television while he flipped through channels. Antonio on the other hand was nowhere to be seen, so Francis decided to just settle down beside Gilbert and wait for the other man to appear.

"You actually arrived before me?" Francis noted with a shake of his head. "This is quite the shame."

Gilbert paused in his channel changing long enough to give Francis a bitter scowl. "Hey, I'm always on time."

"Of course you are."

The sound of Lovino's muffled yells filtered in from the far end of the apartment and Francis knew exactly where Antonio had been hiding. The screams grew louder and clearer, but for only just a moment as they were soon silenced by the sound of a door being slammed shut. Francis craned his neck towards the back end of the apartment, where he watched as Antonio emerged from the small hallway.

"Francis, you made it," Antonio noted brightly while he adjusted the ends of his shirt.

"Yes, I would have gotten here sooner, but I had to take the stairs," he noted bitterly.

"Eh? Why would you do that?"

"Because your elevator's busted," Gilbert supplied helpfully.

"Oh, so that's why you flew up here, eh Gilbert?" Antonio laughed and Francis couldn't help feeling annoyed at him. Francis gave a quiet huff as Antonio leaned over the sofa, resting his arms against the stiff back and positioning himself between Gilbert and Francis. "So can I get you anything?"

Francis asked for a glass of water, because he was still feeling a bit winded from his climb and Gilbert was quick to ask for another beer, although Francis could see that he was currently finishing off his second. "You know Gilbert," Francis began testily once Antonio left to get their drinks. "You could have warned me about the elevator."

"Yeah, I could've," Gilbert drawled, smirking as he continued flipping through stations. He had a feeling that Gilbert was still sore that he had beaten him at cards last week. Not that Francis minded. He knew just how to get back at him.

Once Antonio returned to the living room, he handed each of them their drinks before sitting down on the lounge chair on the other side of the room. Francis could already tell that they would not be playing cards tonight.

"So, Gilbert, how is your brother?" Francis asked, a smug smile pulling at his lips as he took a slow sip from his glass.

Gilbert sneered as he twisted open his new bottle and poured nearly half of it down his throat. "Unbelievable," he grumbled to himself, before adding in a clearer voice "You'll never believe what he told me last week. He and Feli are gonna have a kid."

Francis nearly choked on his water. He hadn't been expecting that response and from the way Antonio's eyes widened, neither had he. "Are you serious?"

"They're having a baby?" Antonio asked, an eager grin forming on his face.

"Yeah," Gilbert sighed morosely. "They're adopting or planning to. I don't remember which. I just know that they've filled out the paperwork."

"Wow! We're gonna be uncles," Antonio cheered and Francis could see that he was practically humming with glee.

Antonio had always had a soft spot for children and had likely been hounding a reluctant Lovino over the idea since their relationship had started. Yet considering how long it had taken the two to get married, Francis felt comfortable in saying that the battle for children was not one that would be over any time soon. Doting over his new little niece or nephew would have to hold him over for the time being.

"This is wonderful news Gilbert," Francis said softly when he noticed that the displeased scowl had yet to leave Gilbert's pale features. "You should be very happy for your brother."

As much as Francis enjoyed teasing Gilbert, he was aware of just how lonely his friend sometimes felt. It was hard being the last single man within a group and Ludwig's announcement had likely only served to remind Gilbert just how alone he was.

"Yeah, whatever," Gilbert grumbled. "It just means that they're gonna become more like you and Artie."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said innocently, but Francis could sense that Gilbert was getting at something.

"Gilbert," Antonio chided, but Francis was quick to step in to defend himself.

"I will have you know that Arthur and I are doing just fine," Francis put in confidently. "In fact, we are better than ever. Since Arthur got his promotion he has been like a new man. He stopped drinking, he spends more time with the children, and he has even lost weight."

Francis waited for the sheepish apology that he was certain Gilbert would offer him, but instead found himself pinned with an unreadable look. Gilbert gave a thoughtful hum as he put his beer to his lips, staring at the wall as if to avoid saying something that he knew he shouldn't. Glancing over at Antonio, Francis was troubled to find him in a similar state. Even as he kept his gaze glued to the drink in his hand, Francis could still see a look on his face that was somewhere between hesitant and concerned.

"If you two are going to act so suspiciously, then you should at least wait until I have had something a bit stronger than water," Francis noted. It was then that he recalled that Antonio and Gilbert had reacted in much the same way the last time he had brought up Arthur during their previous game night. "Whatever it is that you are thinking..." Francis began, but he didn't get much further than that as he suddenly couldn't find it in himself to finish.

"What do you say we do something a bit different tonight?" Antonio ventured once the silence that had settled between them became too much for him. "I don't think we'll be able to play cards tonight. Lovi took my deck and threw it out the window. How about we go see a movie?"

"I don't want to see a movie," Gilbert groaned. "We never agree on anything. Why don't we just go to a bar?"

Antonio nodded in approval and volunteered to drive while Gilbert finished off the rest of his drink. The two made to stand, eagerly heading towards the door, but Francis was quick to stop them both, stretching out his arms and wrapping his rubbery limbs around their waists.

"No one is going anywhere," he snapped as he literally dragged his friends back to their seats and holding them there. "We are not leaving this apartment."

"Geez Francis, if you don't want to walk down the stairs, you don't have to," Gilbert huffed as he struggled against the elastic bonds that were pinning his arms to his side. "I'll carry you down to the parking lot."

"Do not play stupid with me, Gilbert Beilschmidt," Francis told him, a warning clear on his tone. "What have you two been saying behind my back?" His gaze shifted from Gilbert's tight lipped form to Antonio, who was currently squirming around with nervous guilt. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, if you know something and are not telling me..."

"It's not like that, Francis," Antonio said quickly. "It's just... Well..."

"We think Artie's cheating on you," Gilbert relented and as soon as the words were out in the open, Francis sincerely regretted prying them out of him.

His arms instantly went slack, retracting themselves until they returned to their normal size beside him. His insides felt cold at the very notion of Arthur... It was a bitter thought that his mind could not accept. "How could you think that?" he whispered. "Arthur... he loves me."

"Of course he does, amigo," Antonio soothed. Free from his fleshy binds, he moved to join Francis on the sofa and was quick to wrap a supportive arm around his friend's drooping shoulders. "It's just that... well... He's been different. You said so yourself."

"The new car, the crazy hours, the weight loss," Gilbert noted, literally counting out each point as he spoke. "It all seems suspicious."

"But we have been making love constantly," Francis argued. "And the children. He is always with them or with me... How could he...?"

"Well, maybe we're wrong," Antonio offered.

"Or maybe he cheated on you before and now he's acting all super nice because he's feeling guilty," Gilbert put in. "That'd explain all the stuff he's been buying you and the kids."

It would explain a lot, Francis reasoned, because Arthur had been so different lately and it had all started after he'd returned from his conference. He could have cheated then. It would have been so easy for him to be lead astray while Francis was not around. After all, he had become quite distant and unhappy over the years. An affair didn't seem completely impossible considering...

Yet that didn't seem at all like his husband, who had always been so noble and good and devoted to him. It couldn't be true, he told himself. It cannot.

Chapter 5