Written for icicle223 for the APH Gen!Fic Summer Exchange 2017 on tumblr. The match-up I chose was "APH France + APH England as very close colleagues or best friends", and the situation/ AU was "Office!AU".
Francis Bonnefoy was overjoyed when he heard about his upgrade from a desk in the open-plan office to a shared office with one of his colleagues. Arthur Kirkland had been working for Lens for one or two years longer than him, and Francis was getting along with him fairly well. There were some things about the Englishman Francis would probably never understand, such as his love for unfashionable tweed jackets and his sardonic sense of humour. His style of writing, however, was excellent, his articles never lacked depth, and his photographs ... They were outright stunning.
That was why Francis entered his new office with a cheerful "Bonjour". He was greeted with the sight of a man with tousled hair and dark circles around his eyes. Arthur Kirkland didn't pay any attention to him but only to the coffee mug in front of him. He emptied the mug in one gulp, giving a content sigh. It was only then that he acknowledged another person had entered the room.
"Oh, Francis," he exclaimed. "Good morning and welcome to this office! Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Yes, that would be lovely," Francis said with a smile. "What do you have?" He was too relieved about the friendly greeting he had eventually received to object to the generic supermarket brand Arthur mentioned. Accepting the mug that was handed to him with a nod, he took a first, tentative sip ... and almost spit his coffee back into the mug.
"Mon Dieu! Is that the coffee you made last week?"
"Yes, on Friday afternoon," Arthur confirmed without batting an eyelash. "Don't you like it anymore?"
Don't you like it anymore.Francis was dumbstruck. How could anyone want to drink this awful, old, cold coffee? Arthur was lucky if he didn't fall ill one day because his coffee became mouldy! Francis made a mental note to bring some of his own high-quality fair-trade coffee the following day ... and to arrive a little early in order to pour away Arthur's old coffee and to ensure both Arthur Kirkland's and his own wellbeing.
In the end, Francis didn't arrive as early as he had intended because the train to London he took every morning had been late. Learning he had still succeeded in arriving before Arthur was a relief. He managed to dispose of the old coffee in Arthur's pot, brewing some of his own Sicilian roast in a French press he had brought from home.
That was the moment Arthur Kirkland entered the office without a greeting, shuffling to his coffee pot like a zombie. He held it over his mug ... and shook it in disbelief when nothing came out of it. Realising it was empty, he made a sound like a wounded animal.
"Coffee is ready in a minute," Francis said in order to calm him.
"No coffee!" Arthur sounded as if someone had separated him from his firstborn. Francis sighed, pouring the coffee a little earlier than usual because he was unable to see Arthur suffer for much longer.
"There," he said, handing the mug to his colleague.
"Thank goodness!" Arthur put it to his lips, downed it without paying attention to either the fact his beverage was still too hot to drink or the high-quality roast, and gave a sigh of relief. Francis was uncertain if he should feel insulted because Arthur didn't value the coffee's quality at all or relieved because he didn't look so unhappy anymore. What he had learned, however, was not to pour away Arthur's cold morning coffee ever again.
After this incident, they started to gain some routine in their individual morning rituals. Arthur would enter the office and down his cup of yesterday's cold coffee. Francis would wait until the caffeine started to take effect before addressing his colleague and use his French press to brew a fresh cup of quality coffee for himself in the meantime.
One day, Arthur turned to Francis from his computer screen and said: "I think it's funny that you're a Frenchman and you use a device called 'French press' in order to make your coffee."
"Well…" Francis blinked. "It's just called French press in English, not in French. We call it une сafetière à piston. Also, it was actually invented by an Italian. Unlike many other people, Italians really know how to make decent coffee."
"Interesting." Arthur seemed to think about this piece of information. "That's also why it says 'Sicilian roast' on your coffee beans, right?"
"Indeed," Francis exclaimed enthusiastically. "Sicilian roast is the darkest roast there is, and it's also pretty strong. Darker roasts are less acidic, so they're also gentler on the stomach. That's why I prefer my first cup of the day to be Sicilian coffee."
"You really are a coffee snob." A small smile was tugging at Arthur's lips, and his tone was friendly. That was why Francis smiled back rather than taking offense.
"I guess so, but it's for a reason. I'm worried you might get stomach ulcer if you continue drinking cold, acidic coffee in the mornings."
"Um…" Arthur brushed over his hair in what seemed to be a sheepish gesture. "Maybe you're right, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to value your expensive coffee. I just drink it for the caffeine, you know? Most of the time, I drink tea anyway, but if I want caffeine that takes effect fast, I go for coffee…"
Francis bit his lip. He didn't want to start a discussion about how loose tea was the only tea worth drinking, and how milk and sugar defiled the high-quality variant of this beverage. Arthur and him were having the first discussion on the topic that irked him ever since they had started to work in the same office, and he didn't want Arthur to call him a "tea snob", too.
"I mean I'd try drinking dark coffee for a while … so if you'd like me to start putting money in a kitty, so you can buy the same kind of roast for the both of us …"
Oh. Francis' smile reappeared, stronger this time.
"No, it's fine. We can just use the coffee I already brought here and see if my dark roast works out for you."
"I'm sure it will," Arthur said. "As I mentioned, my standards aren't high when it comes to coffee. There's just one condition…"
"Let me guess." Francis grinned. "There needs to remain some cold coffee for the following day in your pot."
"Exactly." Arthur gave him a lopsided smile.
"We can do that."
"Lovely!" Arthur reached out his hand, and they sealed their agreement with a handshake.