Chapter Two: Matthew and Francis
Matthew pushed open the door and walked over to the bar. He ordered a diet coke and checked his Twitter page on his phone. He paid for his drink and sat on a bar stool and logged off his Twitter page to check his Facebook wall. There were only a few notifications on his wall from his closest friends, who were back in Britain and Canada and a few from his friends in New York but it was rare that there was more than ten on a regular basis. He logged out and put down his phone and sipped his drink, whilst staring at the clock. He felt like popping around to the takeaway place instead of here. It would probably be better than what his dad cooked for them both nowadays.
He was about to get up when he heard a voice from behind.
"Mathieu? Petit Mathieu? Is zat really you, mon cher?"
Matthew turned round and saw Alfred's step-dad, Francis Bonnefoy, coming over to him. "Oh, bonjour, Monsieur Bonnefoy."
"Oh, please, mon petit, call me Francis." He said sitting down next to the teen.
"O-okay. So, how are you?"
"Bein, mon cher. Et tu?"
"Same. Just found out something that will probably scar me for life."
"Oooh, tell me all ze dirt." Francis purred, leaning in close to the shy blonde.
"I don't think you'll believe me."
"Oh, Mathieu. Do you not trust me?" Francis whimpered, pouting.
"It's not that it's just...never mind."
Francis shrugged. "Whatever you say, mon petit?"
Matthew smiled. "So, how are you, Monsieur—I mean Francis? What's life throwing at you?"
"Nozing at all, mon cher. I've had no dates and I'm so horny I could dry hump a lamp post."
Matthew blushed at this remark. It was often that when Matthew met Francis, he would often talk about his love life as though his life depended on it. It would often embarrass the blonde, to no end. But he would stop when Matthew pleaded him to. He had never told his dad about Francis because he would have blown his lid if he knew about Francis.
"So, mon cher, tell me how your love life is?"
"There's not really much to say, Francis. I've never dated anyone."
Francis pouted. "Aww, bless your little 'eart. Well, I'm sure you'll find someone. As I will one day."
Matthew smiled, tucked his phone in his pocket and took a sip from his drink. Then he smiled as a sudden thought struck him. He could imagine that his dad and Alfred would be at home for the rest of the night. Going at like rabbits. Maybe he could get back at his dad and Alfred by being with Francis. It was perfect. Maybe...
"Umm, Francis?" Matthew said, turning to the older blonde, who was downing his red wine.
"Oui~"
"I know this is k-k-kinda out of the blue. But w-w-would you...like to go out on a d-d-date with...me?"
Francis stared at the young boy for a few moments. Then that gorgeous smile broke out on that handsome face. "Bien sûr, mon cher. Tell you what, let's – how do you say – blow zis place and head back to mine, for a three course meal. Maybe we could 'ave dessert in bed."
Matthew's blush went from a pink tinge to an alarming red. "D-d-d'accord. Let's go."
Francis smiled and the two clasped hands and walked out of the bar, heading over to Francis' blue convertible.
Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe Alfred had a point of having a sugar daddy. But the best thing was they both knew who the sugar daddies were related to.
Matthew stepped inside the beautiful house and looked around. It was like walking into a somewhat modernized Palace of Versailles. There were a few touches here and there that had high speed technology, such as the T.V, the house phone and also the lights in each room. But the furniture looked to be French antiques. A golden harp sat in a corner of the room next to a gleaming black piano. Matthew turned to Francis as he took Matthew's coat.
"Do you play piano?"
"Oui, but it's a while since I played. A friend of mine's boyfriend plays ze piano. Ze music he plays is just beautiful. Would you like to come zrough to ze living room?"
"Oui."
"Bon. So, what would you like me to make you?" Francis said, hanging up the Canadian's coat and followed Matthew in the room.
"I'm not sure...why don't you surprise me?" Matthew said, snuggling down in the huge comfy sofa.
"But of course, mon cher. Dinner will be ready in at least an hour or less. Zere's already some food I've already prepared, so it won't take long."
"Merci, beau mon serveur."
Francis smiled, did a little bow and left the room. Matthew smiled and leaned back on the sofa and snuggled in to the furry blanket that lay on top. Next to the sofa, a window showed a beautiful view of the street and the distant statue of Lady Liberty. He smiled as he recalled how after the American Revolution the French had decided to create the statue and several years later, they had shipped the statue over to America. That could have been the reason why Francis had moved here. His thoughts were soon interrupted when Francis came back holding two glasses and bottle of red wine.
"Wine, mon cher?"
"Oui, why not? What's the brand?"
"Bordeaux Clairet. Red, would you like a taste?"
"Sure."
Francis smiled and uncorked the wine bottle and poured a little into Matthew's glass. He held it out to him, and he took it. He swirled the glass and took a little sip.
"That's amazing." Matthew said, after swallowing.
"Would you like some more?"
"S'il vous plait."
As France poured, Matthew looked around a bit more. "This is a beautiful home you have here, Francis! It must have cost you a fortune."
"It did, a little. Wiz ze old job paying ze bills for me. Now, I zink I might 'ave to sell zis place."
"You can't though. It's beautiful here and there's no reason for you to move."
Francis shrugged as he poured his wine.
"So, what are making me?"
"Well, mon coeur. For starters – it will be bouillabaisse and for ze main course – smoked salmon cocktail crêpes. Luckily I've got some bouillabaisse left over from last night."
"Oh, my god, that sounds perfect. I love crêpes."
Francis took a little sip of his wine. He lifted Matthew's chin and leaned in close. "Well zen, mon cher. You've come to ze right place. And I was zinking zat we'll take dessert to ze bedroom if you're not too full from ze big meal I'm cooking up for you."
Matthew blushed and sipped his wine. Francis sipped his wine again and placed it on the coffee table.
"I'll be back soon, mon cher. Make yourself at home."
"Thank you, Francis. Um, is it okay if I can have a little look around?"
"Of course, mon cher. Just don't go in Alfred's room. He doesn't like anyone moving his stuff around."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Matthew said, standing up and setting his wine glass on the table, beside Francis'.
Francis chuckled and kissed the Canadian's hand and left to head into the kitchen. Matthew then headed across the hallway and headed up the stairs. He saw a door that was left ajar and guessed that it was Alfred's room, by the huge poster of the Avengers. He then looked in another room to find that it was the bathroom, then two spare rooms – which he gave a quick peek - and then he opened the door to find that it was Francis' room. The room was huge, twice the size of his own room. It was decorated light blue and its bed sheets and pillow cases were Capri blue. It was a beautiful shade. Next to the bed were a small vanity table and a mirrored wardrobe. A small white crystallised chandelier hung on the white ceiling and a soft white rug sat underneath the window.
Matthew smiled as he looked around the room and headed over to a Chester drawer and pulled open a drawer. This drawer had Francis' boxers in. He pulled out a random pair and smiled as he pulled out a dark blue pair with Eiffel Towers scattered on them with random French words. He rubbed his thumbs against the silky fabric, wondering what it would be like pressed against his bare skin. He then pulled out another pair, to find nothing but a tangled string. When he untangled the string, he found it to be a man's thong.
"Oh, sweet maple, Francis!" he mumbled. He sighed and placed the underwear back in the drawer. He then picked up another pair of lacy ones. Please, don't say that Francis was secretly a cross-dresser!
No, he had to remember why he was here. He was here to get back on Alfred and his dad for humiliating him...but now he wasn't sure. He had known Francis for quite some time and he didn't want to ruin the friendship they had...or...was it more than friendship? Was there a reason for Matthew to choose Francis so willingly, where he could have just picked up a different man all together? Oh maple, what was he going to do?
Matthew sighed and decided not to go with getting his own back. He might as well have a good night with Francis as he had nothing else to do as his friends had now all gone away for the weekend or working.
Matthew placed the underwear back in the drawer and closed it. He wandered over to the wardrobe and slid the doors open. He examined the pants, shirt and suits that looked to be expensive. The shoes that were designed and created in Paris sat neatly in the bottom. Did this man not own a pair of jeans? He slid open another door to find that the casual clothes, like vest tops and jeans. He could have sworn he saw a pair of small heeled boots in the back. He opened a drawer, expecting to find nightwear that Francis would wear. But there wasn't any. He checked the others drawers to find that was no pyjamas anywhere. Oh, god, the Frenchman slept naked. Matthew reached down and adjusted himself to make his self more comfortable. He then turned to a bare wall, which was painted as Parisian scenery, with the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Élysées and the Arc de Triomphe. It was really beautiful. It had been a while since Matthew had been to Paris. Just looking at the picture in front of him, made him want to go back. Matthew smiled.
"Oh, mon cher!" Francis called. "Dinner is served. Are you done rifling through my clothes?"
"Just a smidge." Matthew teased back as he slipped out of the room to find Francis at the bottom of the stairs, with a little apron on.
Francis smiled, chuckling and beckoned him down the stairs. "Come along, mon cher. Our food a waits."
Matthew hurried down the stairs and allowed Francis to take him into the kitchen. It was a decent sized kitchen that was also fitted with a small dining section. It was beautiful. It was like he was in a Parisian kitchen.
"This is place is really beautiful, Francis. You can't sell this place. There's no way. You deserve to stay here, no matter what."
"I know, mon cher. It's just zat, wiz now a days, it's difficult to find jobs. It's bad enough in England. I'll try and apply for ze first zing I see that catches my eye. Just like you did today."
Matthew blushed at Francis' words. "Um, by the way...I...l-like your little underwear collection."
Francis cringed and looked at Matthew, blushing for the first time. "You saw ze zong, didn't you?"
"Along with the lace ones." Said Matthew, nodding. "Is there something you're trying to tell me?"
"Ah, well, I sort of developed a little kink of zem. I've never worn zem since we moved to New York. But..." he said, moving closer to Matthew. "If you want I'll wear zem for you some time."
Matthew laughed and hugged the older man around the waist. "I think I can manage with the silken boxers. They're really cute them ones."
"Merci, mon petit. I'll wear zem for our next date, shall I?"
"Yes, please." Matthew said, rubbing his thumb along the man's stubble. Francis nuzzled into the thumb and kissed it.
"Let's eat, shall we?"
Matthew nodded and sat down as Francis dished out the stew, professionally and then brought the bowls over to the table. Matthew inhaled the smell and took hold of his spoon and tasted the food. It was fantastic. It was better than any other bouillabaisse he had before.
"It's beautiful, Francis. I'm quite surprised that you're not working as a chef, now."
"Merci, Mathieu. I appreciate ze comment. All I get from Alfred is his food being sprayed at me from his mouth." Francis groaned before taking a spoonful of stew.
Matthew sniggered and quietly ate his food. After a few moments of eating and Francis staring at him, admiringly, the older blonde soon checked his watch, yelped and hurried over to the fridge.
"Is everything okay?"
"C'est bien, mon cher. Just need to take out ze crêpes to get zem served."
Mathew finished his starter as Francis brought over the smoked salmon crêpes. They looked beautiful.
"Zere you are, mon amour. 'ave a little try."
"Thank you, Francis. It's been so long since I've had French cuisine."
"Really? What on Earth does your papa make you?"
"British cuisine or some Canadian delicacies that my mother made him try."
"What? Your papa's British?" Matthew nodded. "Oh, you poor zing. You have no idea what you've been missing. But I wish my Alfred would appreciate my food like you do."
"Well, he also doesn't know what he's been missing." Matthew said, taking a small bite and smiled at the gorgeous taste that satisfied his taste buds.
"Do you like it, mon cher?"
Matthew smiled and nodded, taking another bite from his crêpe and took a drink of his wine.
"Well, I zank you for trying my cuisine, and giving me great reviews."
"Glad to be of service, Francis...and I thank you for the wonderful meal. My dad's not the best cook in the world, but he means well. God knows, how many times I've had to sneak out to get a decent meal from somewhere else after trying his food."
"Well, you don't have to worry about zat anymore, mon cheri. If you ever want a good meal, don't hesitate to come down and ask for a King's feast. I'll be 'appy to make you any zing you want."
"Thank you, Francis. You're so sweet."
"Non, Mathieu. You are so sweet."
They smiled at each other and continued eating. After finishing the crêpes, Matthew sat back and sipped slightly at his wine. He watched as Francis took the plates away to the sink.
"Would you like some help?"
"Non, mon cher. It's fine, I'll wash zem later."
"O-okay." Francis refilled his wine glass.
"Do you want to go into ze living room, while I put every zing away?"
"If you're sure, Francis?"
"I'm certain, Mathieu."
Matthew smiled and walked back into the living room. He settled down and looked out at the beautiful scenery. He turned his head and smiled as Francis came back in the room with two smaller wine glasses but this time with white wine. He took the glass and thanked him. The blonde man sat down next to him and Matthew snuggled up beside him, sipping his wine.
"This is a lovely view you have here, Francis."
"Merci, mon cher. Zis is one of ze reasons why I chose zis place. I zought it would be nice for Alfred and moi. Unfortunately, his mama wasn't around to see zis place."
"Do you still love her?" Matthew asked, feeling a little jealous.
"I do oui. But I know she would want me to move on and find someone zat will give me ze same love she did." Francis said, smiling at him.
Matthew bit his lip and looked up at the Frenchman. "Well, do you think that maybe that person could be...close by?"
Francis took a sip from his wine and smiled down at the shy Canadian. "Well, shall I let you in on a little secret?"
Matthew sat up a little, a small smile creeping on his face. "Yeah, okay."
Francis took the last gulp from his wine and placed his glass down on the window sill. "Well, it started about a few years ago – but to be more precise, it was four years ago. I met zis cute little Canadian boy called...Mathieu Williams. I zought he was ze most beautiful boy I ever met."
Matthew blushed at this but continued to listen, intrigued.
"I knew zen, mon cher, about my sexuality and how it 'ad changed. It 'appens to a few of men when zey lose zier partners. But somehow I knew zat zis little Mathieu would fall for me like I would fall for him."
Matthew stared at Francis. The younger man soon regretted trying to get his own back on Alfred, because he was starting to fall for the Frenchman, who had loved him for a long time.
"Well, I know one thing, Francis."
"What is zat, mon cher?"
"I think I could be feeling the same way. Je t'aime."
Francis beamed and leaned down to kiss the younger man. Matthew felt as though fireworks were exploding inside him. It was a display that was even better than the ones that he had seen at fourth July. The kiss was soon broken by Francis as he stared down at the younger boy.
"Are you ready for dessert, mon cher?"
"Oui. Make me yours, Francis."
Francis took Matthew's glass, placed it by his and carried the younger man up the stairs to his room.
"Must you go now, Alfie?" the older blonde asked, as Alfred changed into his clothes.
"'Friad so, babe. Pops will be wondering where the hell I am. I've been here for four hours and dad could be having the police send out a search party."
"I thought you called your father?"
"Yeah, but I got distracted by some British sugar." Alfred cooed, leaned down to kiss his lover.
"So I am your sugar daddy?" Arthur purred.
"Better than a whore, right?"
Arthur laughed and rolled over. "Well, I better get up and call Mattie. He's been out for four hours too. I'm surprised he hasn't called."
"Probably his battery died or summat."
"Maybe. I might call and see." Arthur said, sitting up the bed sheets tangling up in his slim yet toned legs. "Well, I hope to see you again, love. Wanna meet me here tomorrow for round two?"
"I would love to, babe. In fact I'd love to stay the night and 'make fireworks all night long' but I gotta make sure that the frog is not having a heart attack."
Arthur sighed and rolled over to his lover. "Well, tell him from me, his son's got a horny lover that wants him chained to his bed for eternity."
"Ooooh, who knew Brits could be so kinky?"
"You better believe it. Now go before I do chain you to the bed to keep you here."
Alfred chuckled and kissed his lover goodbye. He went into the living room collecting his bags and headed out the door. He called a taxi and headed back to his home. It wasn't long before he got home; he paid the driver and walked up the drive. His dad was at home at least. When he opened the door, the house was empty and still. He placed bags carefully on the floor and called out into the silence. "Dad?"
There was no French greeting that he usually got every day. In fact it was nothing but silence. Until the sound of moans and bed springs squeaking reached his ears.
"Ah, a-ah! Francis! Ahhh!"
"Oh, mon cher!"
Alfred quirked an eyebrow. He couldn't believe that the frog had called a male hooker over! He stormed up the stairs to the older man's bedroom and pushed the door open. Lying in the bed was his father, his long blonde hair messed up and hanging loosely from its ponytail. He was naked with only the bed sheets covered his lower body. But beneath him lay...
"Mattie!?"
Both blondes looked around to see Alfred, looking horrified. Francis sat up pulling his lover close to him. Matthew wrapped his arms around Francis' shoulders and buried his face into his neck.
"Alfred, please." Francis pleaded. "We can explain zis."
"Oh, really? Well this doesn't need much explaining apart from the fact that you two are shagging each other's brains out."
Wow, Arthur must have really rubbed off on Alfred – literally and figuratively speaking of course.
"Oh, Alfred. Relax, will you?" said Matthew, pulling back a little from the embrace. "I already told your papa, about you and my dad."
Alfred's face paled. "You what?"
"Zat's right, mon petit. Fucking a man who's twice your age. Shocking!"
Damn! He'd been caught out. Trust Matthew to open his big mouth and blab about his and Arthur's rendezvous.
"Yeah, well look who's talking. You're only shagging my dad to get back at me."
"That's not true, Alfred. I...I love your dad and he loves me."
"What?"
"It's true, mon fils. I aime tellement."
"I- wha...?"
"I love him, Alfred. I 'ave always zought your little friend was a little cutie."
Matthew blushed at this and nuzzled into the older man's stubble. Alfred flinched at this.
"My god, bro!"
"What are you talking about Alfred, you had did ze same wiz his papa? And I've 'eard you planned on doing...a bit more." Francis said with a wink.
Alfred blushed at this remark. "Yeah, so...God, now I wish you were a hooker!"
"You what?" Matthew growled, his temper starting to rise.
"Now, now, you two." Said Francis "Don't fight. Alfred, I would appreciate you not calling mon petit Mathieu a hooker."
There was a pause as Matthew calmed himself and Alfred looked at the floor, occasionally glancing at the two. Francis soon broke it with the question of: "So, did you?"
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Did what?"
"Did you make love wiz ze old Brit?"
"Hey!" Matthew murmured.
"Oh, pardonnez-moi, mon amour." Then he turned back to his step-son to hear his answer.
"So what if I did? You fucked Mattie."
"Exactly, Alfred. So, 'ere's ze deal. If you tell on me and mon cheri Mathieu zen we'll tell on you and your British older lover...or vice versa. Comprendre?"
"Huh?"
Francis sighed. "I wish you paid attention in your French lessons. I said understand?"
"Oh, right. Sure thing pop. Now, I'll head over to Arthur's for the night seen as Mattie is stopping here."
"You do zat, mon fils."
"See ya tomorrow, maybe." Alfred groaned.
"Au revoir." The two new lovers said, lying back on the bed and snuggling up to each other.
Alfred rolled his eyes and took his step-dad's car and drove to back to Arthur's. He got out of the car and knocked on the door. When the door opened, Arthur was wearing a mint green dressing gown. He looked happy yet shocked to see Alfred back so soon.
"Hello, love. Come back for more?"
"Sure have, babe and by the way," Alfred said, walking inside as Arthur closed the door. "I found where your son was hiding. Or rather doing."
"I don't understand, Alfred." Arthur said, placing his hands in his gown's pockets.
"I found him back at my house, naked and shagging my pop."
There was silence for a moment or two. Arthur's huge eyebrows began to twitch menacingly then he took a deep breath. Alfred took a step back awaiting the implosion from the Englishman.
"He...he...WHAT?!"
Alfred flinched. "Umm, babe..."
"That little...I...I can't believe this! My son is shagging a frog. A frog?! My son can do fucking better than that."
"Well, I think they may have gotten a little cosy 'cause they say they love each other."
"WHAT?" Arthur's voice suddenly went a little high pitched.
"Artie, listen. It's really no biggie—"
"No biggie? No biggie?! My son hardly knows the bloody cheese-eating surrendering monkey!"
"Well, they've met at parent meetings and on the streets when they're out."
"Matthew never told me this!"
"Maybe he did..." Alfred walked up to the fuming Englishman and hugged him close. "Maybe you just didn't want to know 'cause my pop's a frog."
Arthur sighed. "Fine...come on, love. Let's go for round two then shall we?"
"Yes, please, bro."
"Please don't call me, bro. I'm your lover not you're 'Homie'."
"Homie or horny?"
Arthur growled and pulled the teenager up the stairs to his bedroom.
A/N:
Ta da! Chapter Two is up! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Now, come on tell me you guys can see Francis is a thong and lacy panties and Arthur chaining up Alfred lol! Next up will be where Alfred and Matthew convince their dads to meet up and be friends...
Yeah, like that's gonna happen.
Also, here's the recipe for the smoked salmon cocktail crepes and the bouillabaisse:
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Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Reviews are love :)
M.S.P
Xxxx
Translations:
Petit – little
Bonjour, Monsieur Bonnefoy – hello, Mister Bonnefoy
Mon petit – my little one
Bein/Bon – good
Et tu – and you
Oui – yes
Bien sûr – of course
beau mon serveur – my handsome waiter
S'il vous plait – please
Mon cœur – my sweetheart
C'est bien – it's fine
Mon amour – my love
Non – no
Moi – me
Je t'aime – I love you
pardonnez-moi – forgive me
mon fils – my son