Mathieu blamed it all on the wine; his roommate did tease him often about being a 'light weight'. He certainly couldn't handle more than a few bottles of beer. So Mathieu would end up blaming it all on his own faults, just like he always did. Even though he knew there wasn't much he could do except just accept his fate and roll with the punches.

It all started the night before, when he'd gone over to visit Francis. It was supposed to be nothing more than two people visiting and having a nice regular friendly dinner.

Francis likened himself to a 'starving artist', which he was sometimes. He was barely able to pay the rent on his dingy dilapidated apartment in the bad side of town every month. Yet somehow he still scrounged enough together. He'd often hinted at having an affair of sorts with his landlord's daughter. Francis would've been able to pay the rent no problem a few years ago. He was a successful office man, who was getting good money. However he had a tendency to suddenly get struck with artistic inspiration in the middle of a conference, or project. Favoring his inspiration more than his actual work, his coworkers eventually told him to come back when he stopped leaving them in the middle of a business meeting to go home to his apartment and start painting random shapes. He could afford some damn good French wine. Francis Bonnefey was also a notorious flirt, and playboy, going through girlfriend after girlfriend, then taking a break from all that and having multiple one night stands with men. In short Francis was a strange man.

How Mathieu Williams knew a man like Francis Bonnefey was anyone's guess. Mathieu even questioned why he knew a man like Francis sometimes.

Because of all this Mathieu wasn't the least bit surprised when he knocked on the door to Francis' apartment and he was greeted by a tired French smile, a face that was paler then his last visit, and a paint smudge on his cheek. His usually light tufts of beard now thicker then when he'd met Mathieu for coffee two weeks ago.

"Ah, Mathieu I wasn't expecting you yet. The oven isn't even on." his French accent filled the empty hallway full of paint chips.

"Sorry." Mathieu apologized as he entered Francis' apartment. Sometimes shy little Mathieu Williams would do things like entering a friend's apartment when they hadn't invited him in, only sometimes and when he was especially tired. His entire day had been crap, and eating Francis' cooking was the only high light throughout it.

During dinner Francis busted out the wine that was mentioned earlier. As the evening progressed the contents of the bottle decreased little by little. As the evening progressed contents of the bottle decreased, Mathieu's gestures got wilder and more animated. He told Francis about his crap day with a smile, the only explanation was the wine.

Somewhere among the drunken slurs Francis had interjected, with a suggestion.

"Would you like to be my model?" Mathieu paused in his movements to look up and stare at Francis. Lavender eyes wide behind the large frames of his glasses.

"What?"

"You could start tomorrow if you wanted." Francis seemed to be talking slightly more with a nervous twinge to his accented voice. Mathieu simply stared, he blinked rapidly a few times to adjust his drunken eyesight. Francis was now staring at his fingers, head down as he rushed to his next sentence.

"How about you come over tomorrow and we can-"

"I'll do it."

Francis' head shot up at Mathieu's agreement. "Are you sure you may regret this tomorrow-" Mathieu held up his hand to stop Francis from going on a rant.

"dude, I'm off my ass drunk. I'm going to regret drinking so much wine tomorrow more than being your model"

Author Note: so… this is a very unoriginal idea

Basically Francis is an artist and Matt is going to be his model. Then yaois insue.

I am mad at my inability to come up with anything else… poop