Double trouble

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(A/N Alfred's mom in this story is nyo!america btw and sorry for the short chapter the next one will be longer I promise) 

"Alfred! For the love of god will you just STAY STILL!" Arthur shouted, thoroughly exasperated. The troublesome five year old just laughed and stuck his tongue out, avoiding his father's grasp as he nimbly darted around the room in an effort to avoid getting ready. Allistor had a last minute date that he had forgotten to tell Arthur about, and he was without a babysitter. After the seventh attempt to brush Alfred's hair, or at least make it look semi-presentable, Arthur threw the comb down, giving up. He slumped against the wall, running his hands through his own hair, looking at Alfred.

Jesus Christ Amelia the kid got your energy and my stubbornness. If only you could help me deal with him now.

He looked at his watch and yelped. "Bloody hell if we don't go right now we are going to be late!" Arthur grabbed his case, sprinting down the stairs and throwing the door open. Francis had invited him over for dinner again, to discuss what they were going to do at the meeting next month. This could of course be done over email, but both men prefer to talk in person.

"There's someone my age there, right?" Alfred chirped as he climbed into the car.

"I've told you before, but yes. He doesn't speak English very well, only French so you might have some trouble talking to him."

They pulled up to the house, and Alfred immediately ran up the steps, knocking excitedly on the door, while Arthur trailed behind him, taking his time walking up the path to admire the flowers. Just as Arthur reached the door it opened. "Bonjour mon ami!" Francis sang, before noticing Alfred. "Oh allo zere. You are Arthur's son oui?" He asked, squatting down to be at Alfred's level and smiling warmly.

"Yeah this is my son, Alfred. I couldn't find a babysitter in time so I brought him along. Is that alright?"

"Oui zat iz fine. Bonjour Alfred, je m'appelle Francis and I am your father's friend."

Alfred simply stared at him for a couple seconds, taking in his appearance. "Why do you have long hair and talk funny?" he asked.

"Alfred! That's quite rude! Apologise to Francis immediately!" Arthur gasped, clapping a hand over his son's mouth before he could say any more. Francis just laughed, elegantly straightening up and patting Arthur on the shoulder. "Don't worry it iz fine. I 'talk funny' because I am French, and I 'ave an accent. Ze reason I 'ave long 'air is because it looks very pretty, oui?" He explained, flipping his hair over his shoulder and winking at Arthur.

"Y-y-yes very pretty." Arthur stammered, then blushed furiously once he realized what he said. "Alfred dear do try to be more polite next time." He said, not looking down at him, his eyes never leaving Francis's. "Alfred?" He asked worriedly after a couple seconds with no reply, looking down at his son.

Alfred's mouth was slightly open, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. Arthur followed his intense gaze and found Matthew staring back at Alfred from behind Francis, his expression mirrored.

"Well Matthew, you deserve a medal." Arthur stated, hoping to break the silence. Matthew broke the staring contest with Alfred and looked up at Arthur, confused. "You've managed to make Alfred shut up." Arthur deadpanned, keeping his face emotionless.

"Hey!" Alfred protested, while Francis and Matthew laughed. The silence that held both of the boys broke, and they ran up to each other, each talking nonstop in their respective language. After a couple seconds of this, they turned and ran into the house as if acting on an unspoken command. Francis and Arthur stared at their retreating backs, bewildered.

"I guess language barrier be damned." Arthur shrugged.

"I 'ave no idea what just 'appened, but I zink zat our boys will get along." 

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