The mixed sounds of the hustle and bustle when it was Happy Hour at the bar would grow louder as the hours passed, and then become an almost unsettling quiet when the majority of the visitors or regulars left for home in the late hours of the evening.
The only ones who would remain were usually drunkards who had nowhere else to go at this time of night. The Bartender, by the name of Francis, would take pity on them, chat with them, completely honestly, treating them with respect instead of pity or anger, as would probably be most people's reaction. No, instead, he treated these few as friends. They were regulars after all, and he knew alot about most of them who came in, since many of them were liable to spill their secrets with their inhibitions lowered.
There was one man though, a regular, who wouldn't say a word. Wouldn't even glance up to meet his gaze, except for when he came up to the bar at the start of his visit to order a drink, and then approach again at the end, to pay for it.
The man's body was built with a small and slim frame. He had pale skin, and dark hair, which was short and neat. The most intriguing thing had to be those eyes of his; Francis couldn't help but feel as though if he looked directly into those charcoal orbs for long enough, he would get trapped in his intense, almost soulless, gaze.
It was every Saturday, an hour or so before closing time, the young man would enter the bar, order the same beverage that he always did and take a seat at the table near the corner, quite far from the bar itself, but in plain sight for Francis to be able to look over at him, keenly. There was no denying it, the mysteriousness of this silent, pallid young man was attractive. If only he were just a bit nearer to him...
However, when the Frenchman wanted something, it would take more than the shyness of his target to deter him. But he didn't want to come on too strong and scare him off, so for a while before he made his first move he would examine the dark haired man carefully, trying to read his personality from his body language and quirks...
Unfortunately, the young man in question seemed...almost devoid of emotion, his face and eyes never seemed to show any form of expression. He would have been a master at poker with those impassive features of his, Francis had thought when he had had little success in gaining knowledge about him with just sitting back and analysing him.
But Francis did not give up. If he couldn't gain knowledge about the man from just viewing him from afar, he would have to strike up some form of conversation.
The fated evening had started off as it had normally done, with friends, couples, colleges, coming down to the bar for a night out. Francis was in his element when the nights started, flirting with the pretty women (and men) that he served drinks to, chatting animatedly with regulars and serving up drinks in quick succession; just another Saturday night for the charismatic blonde.
It started to quieten down after a few hours, and sure enough, right on the dot, the young man he had been waiting for entered the bar, slowly making his way toward Francis, shyly looking down at the floor as he approached.
"The usual, mon ami?"
The young man gave a nod, quickly glancing up at him before directing his gaze back down to the floor again.
Francis gave a small smile, bending over slightly to reach down to the small fridge, housing different non-alcoholic beverages. France found the Japanese man's aversion to consuming alcoholic drinks almost adorable.
"Here you are." Francis said, placing a glass filled with ice on the counter, pouring the liquid into it.
"Thank you..." he said, softly, looking up at him once more for no longer than a few seconds.
"You know...I see you in here alot, but I don't know anything about you...I don't even know your first name and...you don't know mine, I'm sure...?"
"...I do...it's Francis, isn't it...?"
Francis blinked.
"...I...hear other people addressing you as such..." he stated, his gaze lifting once more.
"Ah...well. I suppose you would hear quite a bit, since you're not much of a talker, are you?" he gave a small, low chuckle "Well...you know mine, but like I said, I don't know of yours...so...ah...Comment vous appelez-vous?"
The Japanese man hesitated for a moment, his shyness getting the better of him... but he sucked it up, exhaling and replied "K-Kiku...Kiku Honda..." he gave a small, polite bow "It is nice to be properly introduced to you, Francis-san..."
It was taking a large amount of Francis' usually forgotten self control for him not to voice how utterly adorable he found this introduction, and how he added a suffix on the end of his name "Francis Bonnefoy, and, the pleasure is all mine...".
The Frenchman took the small and delicate hand of the pale gentleman and planted a kiss on top of it, smiling slightly as he gently let go.
Francis looked upon the usually expressionless and blank face to find that this simple action had brought quite a change in his features; his normally pale cheeks were flushed, his eyes were wide with shock and his lips were parted, emitting a small gasp when Francis has placed the kiss upon the knuckles of the tiny man's hand.
"Ha, mon ami, are you alright?"
Kiku gave a curt nod, his face still a little flushed. Numerous thoughts were rushing through the young man's mind as this point, but after a moment or two he calmed down, remembering that, since the bartender was French, this was merely...probably...a simple greeting.
Francis just kept smiling. He motioned to a stool at the bar, offering Kiku a place to sit down there. The small man looked at him, and then at the stool...hesitated, and then sat down.
Well, he had gotten as far as learning his name, having him sit away from his usual place so that he was closer to him and had managed to make a pass at him (even if Kiku wasn't actually aware of Francis' motives), and this simple motion has revealed alot about the man in question...
So...would giving him alcohol reveal anything more about this mysterious, handsome male?
Pushing that thought aside, he decided on some small talk "So...I see you here every Saturday, Kiku... but what would make a person such as yourself attracted to this place?"
"...I...came here with a few friends of mine for their birthday...and...well...ever since then, I've always liked to come here in the quieter hours because...I just like the atmosphere...and...the quiet..."
Francis smiled "But of course, we all enjoy time to ourselves to relax, non? But why don't you stay out of that lonely corner of yours sometime?"
"...In all honesty I...am a little shy of speaking with strangers..."
"Well, well, you know what would help that shyness of yours?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow and motioning to the bottles on the shelves behind him.
"Oh...I...don't drink..."
"Ah, but of course..." Francis replied "But...that said, I was hoping to offer you something on the house..."
"Oh...well...I suppose I could have another Ice Tea..." Kiku said, pushing his now empty glass forward slightly.
Francis nodded, slipping an ice tea out of the fridge...and pulling out a bottle of tasteless but incredibly strong vodka. After a moment of swapping the two beverages, the blonde man gave Kiku an innocent smile and handed the spiked Ice Tea to him.
Soon, the Frenchman knew, the mysterious young man who sat in the corner of his bar wouldn't be all that much of a mystery to him anymore...