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PruCan MPREG: Here I Am 45

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When they got back they went straight to Gilbert's bedroom. When they did come out, it was already dinner time, that Christmas day. A few more people had joined them that afternoon. Ludwig and company had come as well as Elizabeta and Roderich. There was still no sign of Arthur but most were pretty certain he wasn't coming back. Matthew stepped out of the room first, lazily trying to straighten his hair with his fingers and giving 'Merry Christmas's where they were due. Alfred, who had spent most of the day hooking up the Xbox and 'testing' it, looked at him and narrowed his eyes. His suspicions were confirmed when Gilbert came out afterwards, throwing on a robe over his bare red marked chest.
Alfred growled and pulled Matthew over to him. "I don't like him."
Matthew blinked. "Hm? Since when did I care?" He smiled sweetly, only infuriating his brother even further. "Oh, thank you for getting this ready for me, Al. And thank you Ivan for the great games, too."
Ivan smiled happily but he was looking at Gilbert. "No problem."
The albino flinched and pulled Matthew aside. "What's with that Ivan guy, anyway?"
"Hm?"
"He's been staring at me all day."
"Oh, well... Ivan's kind of like a second big brother to me so he's probably just being protective or whatever," Matthew said. He went to Ivan. "What's up?"
"I don't like the white haired one," Ivan said sweetly, always smiling. "Marry my sister."
Matthew turned back to Gilbert. "There you have it. Don't worry about it."
Gilbert frowned but pulled out a chair at the dinner table for Matthew. Matthew accepted and sat down, thanking him. Francis came out with the turkey and placed it on the table. Feliciano helped bring out the rest of the food and everyone sat around the table.
The meal was splendid and everyone enjoyed themselves, discussing the different ways Christmas was celebrated 'back home'.  Dessert however was interrupted by a phone call. Antonio was closest so he hopped over to the phone set and answered it. After a second, he held it out to Francis. Francis excused himself and got up to take the phone. After a few moments of rather small talk, he moved off into the kitchen to talk privately. The rest continued to eat and chit chat but it was no doubt that most were rather distracted by the kitchen conversation. Eventually, Francis came back and placed the handset back on its dock.
"I'm sorry, but I need to go out right now," he said. "I'll be back later. If you leave before then, I apologize and Merry Christmas." He went to get his coat but Alfred and Matthew stood up.
"Is this about Arthur?" Matthew asked.
"We should go with you," Alfred said.
"Eh? No, stay here," Francis said. "Don't concern yourselves. I'll be back."
"But it does concern us, doesn't it?" Matthew said.
"Just stay here," Francis ordered. "Besides, don't you have something to ask Alfred, Ivan?"
"Da," the young Russian said.
"Tell me the results when I return," Francis said. He left before anyone could say anything.
Matthew crossed his arms and sat back down. Alfred would've gone to follow the Frenchman if it weren't for the restrictive Russian hand interlocked with his own. He sat back down and squeezed Ivan's hand gently.
"So, what do you want to ask?"
Ivan smiled, not that he had ever really stopped, and stood up. "I'll be right back."
Alfred nodded and Ivan went off to Francis' room where they had been bunking. He returned after a few minutes and came over to take Alfred's hand again.
Then he got down on one knee.
Alfred blinked.
There was silence in the room.
Ivan cleared his throat and removed a gold diamond ring from his pocket.
"Alfred F. Jones," he said, his thick voice becoming smooth and patient. "Will you marry me?"

Francis checked his phone again for the address. He had to drive all the way out to Ancaster to find this place and it was getting dark so his true evidence of being at the right number was Arthur's car parked in the driveway.
He took a deep breath and got out of the car, trying to straighten out his jacket as he walked to the front door. He hesitated, unsure whether to knock or ring the doorbell but before he could decide, he heard a small dog start barking and the door was opened a crack.
He blinked, his gaze adjusting upward a set of steely menacing blue eyes. He nearly jumped back in shock at the pure strength of the glare he was receiving. He backed off a bit.
"I must be at the wrong house..." he mumbled. "Désolé... I'm very sorry."
He was about to turn and run back to his car but the man took his arm. "Francis."
Francis' heart skipped uncomfortably. "Y-Yeah..."
He was immediately guided—more like pulled, into the house. The man took his coat as he took off his shoes and he was guided once, with a little white dog bouncing around their feet. Upon reaching the kitchen, Arthur appeared, walking over from the living room.
"You made it..." he said, almost as if he had hoped for the opposite. "Well, this is Berwald Oxenstierna," he said, introducing the taller blond. "His husband Timo is in the living room and this..." He picked up the dog. "...is Hanatamago. She's a girl."
Francis frowned. "And what about our son?"
Arthur growled and got closer to him. "What did I tell you on the phone?"
"I don't understand why I should hide it. He's my—"
Arthur clamped a hand over his mouth. "He is their son. He is my biological son that I sired. That is the arrangement here and that is how it'll remain. Understand?"
Francis rolled his eyes and nodded, pulling Arthur's hand away. "Then what am I?"
"You are my friend," Arthur said. "My co-worker. You've come to say hello and that's it."
"That doesn't really give me a good reason to be here, really," Francis said. "I could say hello somewhere else."
"If you want to go then go."
"Non," Francis said. "I will stay."
"Then do what I say. You are not allowed to ruin this for me or for him."
Francis gritted his teeth but nodded. "What was his name again?"
"Peter."
"Did you name him or them?"
"I did."
"How old is he now?"
Arthur frowned. "Five."
"I see..." Francis didn't really like the name but it could've been worse. "Let me see him."
Arthur nodded and went back to the living room. Francis followed, turning the corner and seeing a pale haired man sitting with a young blond boy. He didn't notice Francis at first, his eyes fixed to the television. He looked a lot like Arthur, with his generous eyebrows and round face. But his eyes were definitely Francis', just as much as Alfred's were. Once Francis came into his field of vision, he turned to him and smiled.
"Hello!" he said happily. "Who are you?"
Francis smiled back. "I'm Francis, Arthur's co-worker."
"Who's Arthur?"
Arthur chuckled. "That's me silly."
Peter looked confused. "I thought your name was 'Daddy'."
"It is, dear but that's a title. The name my mum gave me was 'Arthur'," he replied. "'Daddy' is the name I got for having a child."
"Oh!" Peter said. He looked back to Francis. "Are you a daddy too?"
Francis kept up his smiled. "I am. I have two sons."
"Are they here?"
Non, they're at home," Francis said. He glanced at Arthur. "They wanted to come but I told them not to."
"You say 'no' funny," Peter said. "Like there's something in your nose. Are you stuffy?"
"I am not," Francis said, deciding it was alright to sit beside the boy. "You like to ask a lot questions, don't you?"
"I guess. Aiti says asking questions helps you get smart!"
"Aiti?"
"It's Finnish for 'mommy'," said the man on Peter's other side. He leaned over to shake Francis' hand. "Hello, I'm Timo. Or Aiti."
Francis shook his hand. "You have a lovely home."
"Thank you," Timo said, taking his hand back. "I try to keep it proper."
"It's very nice," Francis said. Before he could continue, he got a tug on his sleeve. "Yes, Peter?"
"Can I show you my presents?" he asked, smiling from ear to ear.
"Sure, if you'd like," Francis answered, smiling back.
"I got so many!" Peter got off the couch and went over to their Christmas tree in the corner and pulled out a big box which he'd put all his presents into. He brought it to the couch and pulled out some toys. "Santa got me these Transformers and some candy and socks and a sweater and ice skates! Do you skate?"
"I can but I haven't in a while," Francis said. "Are you a good skater, Peter?"
"I'm still learning," he admitted. "Pappa is teaching me."
"That'd be Berwald," Timo explained, indicating the quiet man now coming into the living room with hot chocolate.
Berwald offered the group each a mug and Francis took his carefully and blew on it before taking a sip.
"This is very good hot chocolate," he commented. "Thank you Berwald."
"Don't mention it..."
Timo thanked his husband as well and sipped his chocolate. "Berwald, how about you go take Peter upstairs so he can help you assemble his hot wheels track?"
Berwald nodded and scooped Peter up inside his box, earning giggles of joy from the five-year-old. Timo watched him take him all the way upstairs before turning to Francis again. Arthur came over to sit beside Francis with a cup of tea.
"He's a lively one, isn't he?" Francis asked.
"Yes." Timo smiled. "He's always been a little bundle of energy."
"It's never a dull moment," Arthur added.
Francis sipped his hot chocolate again. "So, Arthur visits?"
"Yes, we've arranged for him to see him on holidays and every other weekend," Timo said. "He's very involved. We agreed that separation wasn't necessary."
"And for five years it's been like this?" Francis asked, directing his question to Arthur.
"Yes..." Arthur answered, swirling his tea.
"Arthur... Why couldn't you have just told me?" Francis asked. "I think I should've known about this. About him."
"Back then, I didn't think you were in anyway interested or prepared to have a relationship."
"You never asked."
"For god's sake, Francis, it took you no less than what, a week to find a new sexual partner after I conceived," Arthur said. "I didn't think you'd ever want to be a father so I just took things into my own hands. Timo and Berwald were there for me less than a month after Peter was born."
"But... How didn't I see the...the bump at work?" Francis asked. "That's really isn't very easy to hide."
"Honestly, you didn't notice the five months I was on night shift?" Arthur asked. "The hospital accommodated me."
"So... Who knew? Did Elizabeta know?"
"Uh, yes. She was my doctor," Arthur answered truthfully. "She promised not to tell anyone ever."
"I can't believe she'd hide that from me..."
"Well the two of you aren't what you'd consider two peas in a pod," Arthur said. "She only associates with you professionally."
"If so, why would she come to holidays?"
"To check up on Mattie and because she has friends going," Arthur said. "She's there for the group. She doesn't need to like everyone in it. Not everyone loves everyone like you might think."
"I beg to differ."
"Then you differ wrongfully."
"Can we please not fight?" Timo asked, using 'we' rather loosely. "It's Christmas."
The pair sighed and Arthur huffed. "You're right. I'm sorry Timo. We're here to see Peter, not argue," Arthur said. "I didn't get him a gift yet because I thought it'd be nice if I took him shopping instead. Is that alright?"
"That seems fine to me," Timo said, smiling again.
"I'd like to go too," Francis said, receiving an acidic glare from Arthur.
Timo nodded. "I think that'd fine as long as Arthur's alright with—"
"—I'm not," Arthur said. "I want to have a pleasant outing with my son and if he's there, he'll just ruin it for me."
"It's not about you, is it, Arthur?" Francis said. "It's for Peter."
"Then you can take him out a different day," Arthur growled. "And don't turn this on me."
"Mon dieu, Arthur..." Francis said rubbing his temples. "This is all about you now. He's my son and you didn't allow me the right to know about it."
"It's not your right, I gave birth to him!"
"What difference does it make?" Francis said. "We both made him. We both have responsibility."
"It makes all the difference," Arthur said. "I—"
"—Stop," Timo said. "Both of you need to stop fighting or you leave our home. If you can't get along for an hour, then we can arrange for you to see Peter individually, okay?"
The pair looked at each and frowned.
"Fine..." Arthur said. "That's reasonable."
Francis nodded and stood up. "I should go. I have guests waiting for me."
"Alright," Timo said, standing up as well. "Thank you for coming. Oh, one second..." He grabbed a pen and piece of paper and wrote down a number. "Contact us to arrange something."
He handed the paper to Francis who took it and put it in his pocket. "Thank you. Salut."
"Bye-bye," Timo said smiling.
Francis got his coat just as Berwald was coming down with Peter on his back. The boy smiled and waved as he watched Francis step outside and head of down to his car.
WARNING: This fanfic includes the topics of mpreg, rape, abortion, homosexuality, cross-dressing, homophobia, and other possibly controversial stuff. The opinions expressed by the characters do not reflect the opinion of the author. Read at your own discretion and don't be a douche if you disapprove.

So there you have it. The son is Sealand. I know, I know... A lot of you knew it. It wasn't that complicated really. I'm very simple-minded.
My question is, WHAT WILL ALFRED SAY?!?!?!?!


All Hetalia Characters (c) Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya
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Grell-the-red-reaper's avatar
I read the part about Ivan asking Alfred a question, and I flipped my lid