Ahaha, thank you so much for all your nice reviews, I'm really flattered /
bunnies: Thanks a lot, I alway appreciate it whenever people praise my writing style, especially since I don't write in my native language :D
Kelly the Critic: I'll try! Hopefully you're as satisfied with this chapter as you were with those before :D
Awwww: Yes, he is and hopefully he stays like that, Alfred needs it n_n Thanks for your comment!
And now, enjoy!
Chapter 3
Francois wears his fancy, frilly dressing gown and drinks his second cup of coffee while his beloved Edith Piaf is playing in the background and he reads his newspapers. It's a daily habit, a morning ritual he is very fond of; these are the minutes only belonging to him and he likes it very much that way. He is half way through his freshly baked croissant when the doorbell rings and sighs a little unwillingly before getting up and opening the door. However, Francois' mood improves quickly when he discovers that his guest is Alfred who smiles a little sheepishly at him and scratches the back of his head. He is dressed in a plain blue T-Shirt and faded Jeans together with bright, white and red sneakers and Francois marvels at the muscles curving underneath the T-Shirts.
"Hi," Alfred says and, after a short moment, awkwardly offers a hand which Francois gracefully shakes. "I'm not too early, am I? You said after twelve, so…"
"It's fine, cheri," Francois smiles and quickly ushers him into his flat. "I was just having breakfast, do you want something?"
Alfred's eyes widen and he stands so fast at the table that Francois can't even blink properly, curiously examining bread, butter, marmalades and croissants- Francois likes to have a wide range of food to choose from. "Awesome!" He exclaims and sends a stunning smile at Francois, who closes the door behind him and smiles back. "And I can really-?"
"Sure, just go ahead," Francois says with a dismissive wave of his hand and settles down in the seat he has abandoned for opening the door again. He can't help but stare a little bewildered as Alfred digs into the food like a half-starved lion cub, drowning his croissants in butter and marmalade and ignoring the bread- apparently he likes sweet things better and Francois absent-mindedly makes a mental note of that. Alfred eats messy, marmalade and crumbs adorning his lips and he wipes them off with a quick motion of his thumb, sucking the marmalade off it before he continues to eat. Francois wonders if he does it on purpose; probably not.
"You are allowed to chew now and then, cheri," He says a little concerned after a while because he has no idea what he should do if Alfred choked on a piece of food.
"I 'o, 'on' 'orry," Is Alfred's answer and he quickly swallows down everything in his mouth to duck his head and smile sheepishly, like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It is adorable and Francois can't help but laugh fondly. He is almost awed to see that there is only one croissant left after Alfred's eating orgy. "You have a healthy appetite, cheri."
"Ah, well, I haven't eaten anything for hours now," Alfred responds, accepting the napkin Francois hands him with a smile and wiping his mouth off properly. "So thanks a lot, Frenchie, you really saved my life!"
"Do you have to call me that?" Francois sighs and brushes back a strand of his hair. "Not that I am not proud of my heritage, but it is kind of impersonal."
Alfred widens his eyes and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Well, I don't know your name and I don't wanna call you "dude with girly locks", so I call you Frenchie. 'Cause you're French. I could've called you "Beardie" too, but I thought you might find it insulting, so-"
"Un moment," Francois interrupts, "I never told you my name?"
"Well, the first time we fucked and the second time, uh, I guess there simply wasn't an opportunity," Alfred answers and shrugs nonchalantly and Francois blinks before he lifts one of Alfred's hands and places a kiss on it, visibly startling the younger man with his actions.
"My name is Francois Bonnefoy," He says and sends one of his infamous flirtatious smiles at Alfred who laughs awkwardly. "It is very nice to meet you-again, I might say."
"Huh, you're funny," Alfred says and chuckles delighted. Francois looks at him and wonders how easy it is to forget what Alfred is and how they met for the first time. All he can see right now is a young man, not overly complicated in mind or behavior, with a beautiful face and an even more beautiful smile, handsome as hell and blessed with an appetite that would put a grown bear to shame. He is surprised to find himself drawn to Alfred's open behavior, the way he handles his life, apparently without minding it that much, even though he would have enough reason of doing so.
"So!" Alfred interrupts his thoughts and stretches slightly, revealing a strip of perfectly tanned skin with light, golden hair between the waistband of his jeans and his shirt and Francois can't help but stare for a moment. "When're we gonna start?"
Sometimes Francois finds it difficult to decipher what Alfred is saying since the young man tends to swallow syllables and drawl in an awfully sweet accent and Francois never was that keen on bringing his English skills to perfection, but he doesn't comment on it and instead answers: "I thought about starting with a portrait, since you have a really beautiful face. And your eyes-marvelous."
"Thank you," Alfred says and smiles, his eyes not giving away any further emotion.
"And I would like to draw you naked later," Francois continues and is surprised to find a nervous twitch in Alfred's smile.
"Sure thing!" He answers and Francois watches him intently for another moment until he nods and gestures towards a pompous, red couch in the middle of his atelier in the other half of the generous living room. The light in here is perfect for drawing and Francois marvels a moment about the sheer beauty of his surroundings, then he gets interrupted by the way Alfred marches up to the couch and takes place on it, nothing of the erotic saunter he has shown him before in his steps; instead he walks quickly and energetic but without finesse, entirely a young man on a mission. Francois is disappointed and wants to kiss him badly at the same time. This surprises him; it has been a while since somebody was able to elicit different emotions at the same time out of him.
"Don't'cha wanna get dressed or somethin'?" Alfred asks and nods with his chin towards Francois' dressing gown while showing him a cheeky grin.
"Do you mind?" Francois asks, acting disappointed, and flutters his eyelashes especially coquettish, causing Alfred's ears to turn pink.
"Of course not!" He almost shouts and looks really worried for a moment, "It's just not—really professional, is it?"
"It's professional when I say so," Francois says promptly and moves to Alfred to gently stroke his cheek. "Just hold still and think of something. Just don't get distracted so much by me."
"'Kay," Alfred answers and holds still, a small smile tugging on his lips while Francois sits down in front of him on his favorite chair, pulls out his sketch book and starts to make some quick sketches with a simple pencil to get used to Alfred's facial features. All the while Alfred sits perfectly still; however, when Francois starts to draw the first lines onto an empty canvas, he slowly but steadily begins to fidget around while looking as innocently as possible. There is a slight tremor in his left leg and he presses his lips together without noticing it, causing Francois to sigh desperately.
"Cheri, I told you to hold still, didn't I? You are making my work very difficult!" Francois chides lightly and Alfred automatically ducks his head and smiles sheepishly.
"Sorry," He offers and straightens his back to sit perfectly still again; however, again not for very long. Francois is relieved to see that his face doesn't move, though, since Alfred seemingly figured out that it would be not that bad if he tapped his fingers against his knees, causing a drumming sound that contrasts almost harshly with Edith Piaf's sweet voice in the background. To Francois' surprise, he says not a single word and Francois hums lightly in the rhythm of "La Vie En Rose", overwhelmed with love for his beautiful motherland for a moment as he often is when the sun shines through his window and he can hear people chatting on the streets, when he catches a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower standing proudly like a giant phallic symbol above the roofs of Paris, when he sees people smiling and laughing at each other. He doesn't need a special occasion to become so fond of Paris, only an average day and love in his heart. He wonders if Alfred also appreciates the beauty France holds or if he misses America just like Francois misses France every time he has to leave it. He wonders what Alfred is doing here at all, but something prevents him from asking.
"This should be fine, cheri," Francois says after a while and laughs when Alfred looks relieved.
"Dude! Never thought it'd be that hard to just sit an' do nothin'!" He exclaims and stretches again with a slight groan and Francois automatically stretches out a hand and tries to smooth that stubborn cowlick on his head, but without any success. Alfred just laughs at him, but somehow he manages to stay friendly enough that Francois doesn't feel offended. "So, uhm-are we finished?"
"Unfortunately, oui," Francois answers and nods with a sigh, before he stands up and looks for his purse. "I would like to see you again tomorrow, if you have time, so I can concentrate on my other projects and do the coloring tomorrow."
"No problem," Alfred says and stands up as well, gaping at the bank notes Francois hands him. "That's too much!"
"It's fine," Francois gives back and smiles encouragingly, giving in to his desire, at least a little, and brushing Alfred's cheek, widening his eyes in surprise when Alfred presses up against him and kisses his neck.
"You're really pretty, Francis," He murmurs with a low voice and Francois can feel himself responding to it. "I can make it up to you if you want."
And Francois almost says yes, but something in his stomach twists and coils because it just doesn't feel right, so he shakes his head and gently shoves Alfred away, ignoring the almost hurt confusion in his eyes and instead focusing on his hands. Alfred has really nice hands, broad and big with short-clipped nails and scratched knuckles; he wonders what happened to them. "It's fine," He says with a calm tone and smiles lightly, patting Alfred's cheek again. "I will see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," Alfred says quietly, "I'll just….see myself out. Bye."
Francois watches him leave with a sigh and closes his eyes for a moment before he picks up the canvas. He is surprised to see that Alfred's eyes are sad.