A/N: This fic used to be called The Art Of Making One Happy. After almost a year of neglecting my most popular fic, i've revamped it. It's longer, And the plot is a bit different. And guess what? it's less OOC! i've said this many times, and i'm gonna say it again, but reviews really keep me going. they're the reason i even rewrote this fic in the first place. so thank you to everyone who reviewed!
There wasn't anything too special about Francis. He owned a small bakery in Ontario, lived by himself, and loved everyone. His life was pretty simple.
He glanced at his watch, about a half an hour before he had to go into work. That was enough time to stop at the store and get something, surely.
He waved at a small group of teenagers, and smiled as he drove by them, but they looked confused. Or was that disgust? Who knew at this point. People always gossiped about him being too friendly
He didn't quite understand that, though. He would just smile at people who walked by, or wave at them. How was that too friendly?
He also heard many of his actions were mistaken for flirting. He was, of course, a wonderful flirt, but things such as starting a conversation with someone he didn't consider flirting.
People were odd.
And beautiful, of course. It was amazing, the diversity of this world. Everyone had their individual thoughts, interests, personality... The list went on and on.
Emotions were also a wonderful thing. Many people would argue, but they gave Francis a sense of humanity. It made him feel alive; it made him feel like he was worth something.
Before he knew it he arrived at the grocery store. He got out of his car and stretched, shutting the door with a swing of his hip.
With a small bounce in his step he walked inside, making his way up to that one aisle.
"Ah!" he exclaimed with a grin. Maple syrup. Ever since he had moved to the wonderful country that is Canada for a new life, he absolutely loved maple syrup. It was so much better here than anywhere else. Canadians are magnifique when it came to anything Maple. Oh, and pancakes. And pretty much everything else, now that he thought about it. They had free health care, marriage equality—pretty great, huh?
He sauntered back to the front of the store where the checkout counters were.
His eyes wandered, trying to find the shortest line.
At the very last counter, there was no one in line. That was his cue.
The Cashier looked startled as Francis approached him.
Odd.
"M-May I help you?" The Cashier said quietly. His voice was soft; sweet, even. He wore long, oversized khaki pants and a red t-shirt with the store logo embroidered on one of the sleeves. He had light brown hair that went just past his jaw line. He wore a red lanyard with a name tag on it, saying 'Matthew', and he had a few piercing. But one thing caught Francis' attention more than anything else; his eyes.
Sad looking violet eyes, with long lashes lining them.
"Ah, yes." Francis sat the bottle of maple syrup down on the counter.
Matthew, the Cashier, ran it under a small scanner, and pressed a few keys on the cash register. "That'll be twenty-five dollars please."
The maple syrup in this store was expensive for sure, but it was definitely worth it.
You got what you paid for. Which was a thirty-two ounce bottle of grade A, every-batch-taste-tested to make sure it was perfect, dark amber deliciousness.
It really was the best.
Francis reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing him a twenty, and a ten. "Keep the change."
"Thank you," the Cashier smiled.
Oh.
Francis stood there for a moment, staring at him in awe. His smile was one of the prettiest things he had ever seen in his life.
"Sir?"
He snapped out of his daze, and Matthew handed him a grocery bag with the maple syrup in it.
"Oh, I'm very sorry. I got distracted for a moment." Francis smiled apologetically and took the bag from him. He turned around to wave at Matthew as he walked to the front of the door, and before he left he noticed a small smile on Matthew's lips.
.
"No, No, No.." Francis grumbled as he rushed to his car. He forgot to set his alarm, and was now late for work.
In his hurry, he didn't have time to prepare breakfast. How did he let this happen? He was a man of routine, after all. He never forgot to set his alarm. Never.
He released a heavy sigh, and pulled into the drive thru of the closest fast food restaurant. Restaurant. How could they even call fast food places that? Francis wasn't convinced this was actual food, either. Despite that, he ordered something.
He hated when he had to resort to this… this... He didn't even know what to call it. But it was disgusting.
Or maybe just had high expectations, being deemed the cook of his family, and owned his own bakery.
Speaking of his bakery, he would've just made something for himself there, seeing as pastries were his forte. But in the mornings is when they got most of their customers, and they could barely prepare enough food then, without Francis making something for himself.
He realized the line in the drive thru was considerably shorter, and pulled up to get his… barely edible garbage.
A young man handed him a small paper bag of food, and grinned. He had dirty blond hair that was a similar shade to Matthew's, except this man had an odd cowlick sticking of from his bangs.
This man looked like one of those kids whose parents sent off to college, dropped out in his last year, and decided to follow his dreams of becoming a burger flipper.
Francis wasn't sure what that meant, but he chuckled at his weird thought.
"And that'll be five-fifty, Sir!" The man froze briefly and leaned closer. "Hey... You seem familiar. Gorgeous blond hair... Sparkling blue eyes, sexy stubble, perfect smile… Did you happen to talk to a cashier yesterday at Maple Marketplace named Matthew?"
Francis stared blankly at him for a moment, thinking about what the burger man had just said. What was up with all those adjectives? "…Yes." He answered hesitantly.
"Well I'll be darned! I'm his brother! Mattie wouldn't shut up about you!"
"Wait, What?" Did he really go into that much detail about me? To the point where his brother could recognize him?
"I think he really likes you. If you're into dudes you should call him! His number is—"
Before Matthew's brother could finish, the car behind Francis honked.
"…Nevermind, just go to the store and look for him! Or use a phonebook."
Francis nodded, and began driving again. If only he could've gotten his number…
He rushed to finish his breakfast as he drove, keeping one hand on the steering wheel and the nasty breakfast sandwich in the other.
It took him ten minutes to drive to his Bakery, and actually get inside. The place was packed..
"Good morning boys, Good morning Bella," Francis called as he walked behind the counter and into the small, home-like kitchen.
"…Good morning Boss."
"Mornin' Boss!"
"You're late..."
"Good morning Sir!"
His employees called back. Roderich, Mathias, Ludwig, and Bella. All very wonderful people with very good skills in the kitchen.
"Sorry I'm late; I forgot to set my alarm..." Francis sighed. "You do know that the bakery is packed, right?"
"We were waiting for you, Sir," Mathias rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the counter with a cheeky smile.
"'Thias, get to work. Don't you want happy customers?" Bella frowned.
"…And money," Roderich added.
"Yeah, yeah..." Mathias sighed and turned back around to continue his work.
"Bella, would you be a dear and start taking orders?"
"Yes Sir!" Bella soon disappeared out of the kitchen to the front of the store.
"You three, especially you..." Francis' gaze turned to Mathias. "Keep working."
Francis went back to the front of the store to join Bella. He scanned the crowd and sighed, this was an exceptionally busy day.
A few minutes passed, Ten, Probably, and people were still coming in.
Francis tapped his fingers against the counter in between customers, and his mind wandered back to the words Matthew's brother said. Maybe he'd have to go to Maple Market after work and get his number. It was obvious he liked him, after all.
Not long after he had this thought, the next person in the line appeared in front of him. This person happened to be Matthew, to Francis' surprise.
"…Matthew…"
"Oh...You're the guy from the store yesterday, aren't you? You remembered my name…"
"Of course I did." Francis smiled. Here it was… this was his chance.
"Well that's good to know," Matthew smiled softly, and his gaze fell to the pastry-filled glass counter.
"…How can I help you today?
"Hm… I'd like two Éclairs, Please. And your number."
Francis stared at him blankly. If there was one thing he didn't expect, it was that. A small smile graced his lips, and he nodded. "I'll be right with you, Sir." He said before disappearing into the back room to fetch a pen and a paper.
