Courts and Mornings

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(A/N In case I never made it clear 2p! America, (Allen) is Emilise's boyfriend also for some reason I HAVE to include a les mis reference in all of my stories why do I do this) 

Arthur woke up on a soft pillow, the sheets tangled around his legs, muted sunlight making its way past his closed eyelids. A warm weight rested around his shoulders, and his pillow moved up and down, a slow, relaxed thump matching up with his own heartbeat. Wait why the fuck did his pillow have a heartbeat? Arthur opened his eyes to see that he was basically on top of a still sleeping Francis, legs twined together and his head on the Frenchman's chest, his arms wrapped securely around Arthur. After his initial moment of surprise, followed by a flushed face, Arthur relaxed and buried his face in Francis's chest, smiling when he felt the arms around him tighten and the beating of his heart speed up, echoing the beat of a drum. "Bonjour mon amour." Francis whispered, stretching slightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes you are an incredibly comfortable pillow." Arthur replied, sitting up and yawning loudly, rubbing his eyes. "What bloody time is it?" He asked, flopping back on the bed, ignoring Francis's grunt of pain as his arm was squashed. He checked the time, as well as the date. It was August 25th, and they were due at court at noon. "Get up you frog." Arthur poked Francis, who croaked in response but got up, untying his braid and shaking his golden waves loose.

"Can you wake up ze garçons, s'il vous plaît? I'll make zem food after i'm ready." He asked, looking at Arthur with wide, pleading eyes. Arthur nodded, walking to Matthew's room and opening the door. The boys were still asleep, but had shifted so that they were lying down, side by side with Alfred's arm covering Matthew's face.

"Alfred. Matthew. Get up boys it's time for breakfast." At the word breakfast Alfred bolted up, nearly falling off the bed. Large blue eyes blinked owlishly at his surroundings, before finding his father standing in the doorway. The boy sprung up, running to his dad and tackling him with a hug.

"Good morning! Why am I at Mattie's? Why is he still asleep? DID I HEAR BREAKFAST?!" He yelled, having way too much energy for so early in the day. Matthew obviously thought so too, for a groan came from the bed. Violet eyes cracked open blearily, and the boy yawned widely, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Alfie? Arthur? Quelle heure est-il?(what time is it) Où est papa?" He asked, getting up and walking to Arthur, dragging his bear behind him. Arthur raised his large eyebrows, not understanding the majority of what the boy just said.

"English please?"

"What time iz it and where is papa?" Matthew repeated, switching to a language Arthur could understand. His accent was a lot less pronounced now, but it was still hard for him to hold complicated conversations and often times Francis still had to translate.

"It's the morning, and it's 10 am. Your papa is still getting ready, and we need to go to the court in about two hours." Arthur answered, stepping out of the doorway to allow the boys make their way downstairs, Alfred sliding on the railing, and Matthew on his heels.

"What's for breakfast?" Asked Alfred, the ever hungry child. "Mattie was telling me about this thing that Francy makes called crêpes can we have that?" Matthew nodded, looking up at Arthur, who began to look through the cabinets, searching for ingredients and starting to make them.

"Bonjour Matthieu et Alfred! Mon cher what are you doing... ARTHUR NON NON NON GET AWAY FROM ZE KITCHEN!" Francis shrieked, shooing Arthur away from the stove, taking the batter away from the Englishman and frantically turning the heat down. "Mon dieu zat iz not flour zat iz fine sugar!"

Arthur shrugged sheepishly, resting his head on Francis's shoulder as the other man emptied out the bowl and started from scratch. "Oops? I don't get why you don't let me cook." he grumbled, snaking his hands under Francis's elbows and folding them over his stomach.

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