AUTHOR'S NOTE! (Please read =_=)
Okay so I… am an idiot -_-. Turns out my French teachers were not so useful – not really. I kind of screwed up on my verbs and spellings on some (okay, a lot) of words. Yeah, and a very kind person took their time to translate for me (I love you!) so I fixed that. No more other language mistakes (stop laughing at me French people! I may live in Canada but it means nothing XP). Right, so, yeah, my mistakes have been corrected! Also, I noticed that the website is posting the chapters all weird like. I mean italics in parts where there shouldn't be and clumping words together. *Shakes head* It's only ever me. Thank you for reading this!
Francis had Matthew remove Kumajiro and padlock him into his room. Whilst he did that, Francis hooked the video camera's USB cable into the flat screen. As he waited for Matthew to return, Francis pulled a black hoodie from beneath the coffee table. He turned the television on and sat on the loveseat, popcorn in hand.
Matthew analyzed himself in the mirror for what felt like the thousandth time. He was not comfortable at all. The outfit Francis picked out for him consisted of a black t-shirt that ended just beneath his hips. A train of golden buttons went down the right side, from his shoulder to the end of the shirt, and they had no particular meaning. And what was worse, it was tight, the fabric was literally hugging his torso. If the shirt wasn't bad enough Francis had to add the skinniest skinny jeans known to mankind and checkered converse.
It wasn't that the outfit wasn't nice, because it was. But Matthew felt trapped inside of the clothing. He sighed and headed for the living room, locking the door behind him.
"Sorry, Kuma," he mumbled.
Francis had his legs propped up on a small table that was nestled before the loveseat. He titled his head back to look at Matthew and smiled with pride. The Canadian made a face at him and looked away.
"Bon, Mattie! You look very good!"
Matthew punched him in the back of the head.
"Sacrebleu! Is that how you treat the man who bought you new glasses?" Francis hissed.
Matthew eyed his suspiciously and grunted. "You don't even know my prescription."
"I got the optometrist to find the strength of your glasses, Mattie you must forgive me. I have set up our morning so that we could have an enjoyable time."
He pulled a small rectangular box from his pocket and presented it to Matthew. The boy's violet eyes shifted from the box to Francis who was giving him an apologetic smile; his face reading 'please accept this'. Matthew sighed and took the box from him. He removed the lid and he couldn't believe it.
A pair of black-rimed glasses, with rectangular frames stared back at him. He plucked the gift from its box and turned it in his fingers. There was a small red maple leaf engraved onto the edge of the left frame. They were beautiful.
"Well …?" Francis pressed.
Matthew met the older man's curious gaze.
"Why did you-"
"I thought it was the right thing to do. S'il vous plait put them on."
Matthew slid the broken glasses off of his nose and replaced them with the brand new specs. The edges of his lips pulled slightly.
"Thank you."
"I was nothing." Francis patted the empty seat next to him and practically sang, "come, things are only going to get better."
Matthew happily obliged and sat next to him. Francis pressed the power button and the television screen flickered from blue to a very cute sleeping Matthew. Matthew's face scrunched up and he whipped his head to glare at Francis.
"What is this?" he screeched.
Francis took his hand. "Quiet, Mattie."
Matthew's face shifted from white to red as he watched himself sleep. The screen shook and Francis' face appeared.
"Salut, Mattie! This video is for you, I hope you will gain a better understanding so that you may be happy with me!"
Francis disappeared and came back into the room with one of Matthew's black hoodies and a pair of his jeans folded over his arm.
Francis pulled back the blanket and started to strip Matthew's clothes from his body.
Matthew's mouth fell open and he suddenly remembered Francis' hand. He pulled his own hand away and put it back in his lap
"What are you doing to me?" He croaked, mortified.
"Calm down I did not do anything to you."
Francis jumped into the frame and giggled, "look at that body! C'est magnifique! Mattie look at how cute you are!"
The French man started dressing Matthew with the black hoodie and jeans. He took a picture with his digital camera and switched the casual wear back with Matthew's maple leaf pajamas.
Francis ran through the house (crept past Kumajiro) and out the door. He waved to the camera and shut it off.
The screen reappeared on the streets of Paris, somebody was holding the camera. It was pointed at Francis who was talking to a woman in French – Matthew couldn't make it out but he got the gist of it when Francis showed the picture of Matthew in his clothes to the camera and let the woman see it.
She fainted.
"What the heck …" Matthew muttered.
"Do you see, Mathieu?" Francis asked to the camera. "You need help."
The video continued on with Francis ripping on Matthew and Paris residents and tourists looking dumbstruck. One man even tried to break the camera.
"Merci!" Francis took the video camera back. "Okay, Mattie! This is the end of my film! I hope you have learned something from it and will let us have fun for the rest of your trip! Bye-bye!"
The television screen transitioned to blue once again and Matthew sat speechless. He really had nothing to say, it hurt too much to speak. Was he so fashion … dismissive that these complete strangers had to be so cruel? It may not have physically happened but the Canadian felt himself shrink. Crumpled by the humiliation of it all.
"So you see, Matthew, what I am trying to do for you is more than necessary." Francis told him.
He unplugged the USB cable and put his hands on his hips. Francis looked at his watched and his eyebrows peeked.
"Oh! It is time to get going. Our appointment-"
"You're a jerk, Francis."
He gave Matthew a quizzical look. "Pardon?"
"Am I that ugly?" he asked quietly.
"You are not ugly, you have my face! Now if you looked like, Arthur then you would have all the rights in the world to feel ugly. Any person with such disturbing eyebrows-"
"He used to be my father you know!"
Francis looked disheartened, he pouted. "So was I! And you treat me so badly!"
"I do not! You just don't know how to treat me!"
"But I bought you all those things!"
"Whatever! You obliterated my other stuff!"
Matthew stood up and went to walk away but Francis snatched his shirt. The French man's eyebrows descended so low that Matthew could barely see his eyes.
"Listen here, I used to be your papa also! I am one of the only nations that knows you exist! And I give a damn! So you will march outside and get in that damn car! Right. Now! Do you understand me?"
Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"Yes what?" Francis growled.
"Y-yes, sir." he whimpered.
Francis let him go and before he could say anything else, Matthew was gone.
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
"Put on your damn seatbelt."
Matthew did.
"Let me do all the talking, Mattie. Around here, your Canadian French sounds like … how would you put it? … A country bumpkin with an awkward accent."
"Does it really?"
"Oui. In fact, from this moment on, you are a mime in training."
"I don't want to do be a mime!"
"Shut up, Mattie. Mimes do not speak."
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
It was simple. Do what Francis said and go home. To the comforts of semi-seclusion and maple syrup. Though, he would probably end up getting depressed again, but that would be better than being miserable with Francis. A stout woman led them into a hallway. When she asked about Matthew, Francis happily played the mime story and soon after, they split up.
It was as instant relief to get out of the clothes Francis bought but it wasn't so relieving to have to slip into a robe, naked, and face all of the people that were wandering outside.
There was a knock on the door and
Matthew jumped.
"Y-yes?"
The door opened and Francis appeared, his usual carefree smile planted on his lips. He asked, "Mattie are you ready?"
"I hope so," Matthew dreaded stepping outside of the door. There was bound to be someone out there. "I'm nervous, someone might see me."
Francis snorted, "of course someone will see you! You are in a spa!"
He squeezed Matthew's shoulder and Matthew realized he really had no choice in this. He had already hurt Francis with his comment and if he tried to wiggle out of Francis' suffocating grasp, the punishment he would receive would surely be worse than a day at the spa.
"Right … what's first?"
"Facials!"
Facials? Like, cucumber on the eyes, guava chip dip on the face facials? What was he getting himself into?
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
"Bonjour!" A tiny blonde woman said as they walked into the room.
Minutes passed and despite what he thought, it was actually kind of not-suckish. There were no cucumbers, but there weird circular pads that she pressed against his eyelids. Though the crème that she put on his face did have a weird scent to it, Francis assured him – when the woman left the room – it was made with mint leaves and not guava.
The day only got more interesting after that. He got a pedicure and a manicure and had to sit mute as the woman tending to his toes and Francis ridiculed him and compared his feet to alligator skin. Like he couldn't understand … so rude.
The massage felt good up until the man treating him started tenderizing his spine and putting his hands a little lower than Matthew would have liked.
The last stop before the end of their day was a room shrouded with mud pits.
"Francis what is …" the boy could practically felt his eyes melt. Francis' dropped his robe and was navigating bare-bottom around the pools.
Francis settled with a large pit in the corner of the room. He sank in and sprawled his arm out on the cool tile.
"Mathieu join me!"
"Eat shit," he snarled and scuttled to the pit that was next to the one Francis lay in. He stared at it. Unsure what to do next. How was he supposed to get in there without being 'exposed'?
Matthew slipped his feet in, feeling cautiously for a step. When he found one, he rolled the edges of his robe in his hands and started in. Peeling the robe higher and higher as he lowered himself in.
It took almost five minutes before he actually got in.
"Why are we in mud? How is this relaxing? I feel … dirty."
Francis rolled his eyes. Something brushed against his leg and ascended to the surface. It was a bubble. He blinked. A bubble? At that moment, more began to surface, one by one.
"Mattie does your tub have bubbles?"
"Eh? Uh …" he looked over the sides. "no. Why?"
Something was rising and it took no time. Just as the French man thought to recoil, a head bobbed and broke out of the mud.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Kumajiro opened his mouth and a flurry of mud spewed out.
"Breed. With. Me."
Matthew nearly jumped out of the tub.
"Kumajiro what are you- how did you- what the hell?"
The bear ignored him and dived back into the liquid dirt. Francis tried to escape but Kumajiro had his paws locked around his ankles.
"Mattie! Mattie help me!"
Matthew watched helplessly as Kumajiro pulled Francis back in every time he managed to get a limb out. He would help, really, he wanted to, but that would mean letting Francis and Kumajiro see him in the nude. Nothing was worth risking that, not even Francis' animal-to-human virginity.
"Breed with me! I need you!"
"Unhand me! I would never do such a thing with you! Mattie, s'il vous plaits!"
Kumajiro yanked one last time and the both of them went under. Legs and arms and paws disappeared and reappeared on the surface and after what was too many minutes of watching them fight, a very shaky Francis launched out of the mud clutching his body. Kumajiro crawled out after him and shook the dirt off his fur. He looked a Matthew and the boy flinched.
"I'm hungry," the bear stated and left the room through an open window.
Matthew glanced at Francis.
"Francis what-"
"I do not want to talk about it."
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
The padlock wasn't broken, the window was. Somehow, Kumajiro had managed to fight off the tranquilizer, break the window, locate them, do things to Francis, crawl back through the window and fall asleep on the bed once again.
Matthew chuckled, he couldn't help but feel a little amused by his pet's actions.
Matthew yawned and for the first time, he stretched without hearing his back crack. So the day wasn't all that bad, he had to admit, and if he was lucky, tomorrow would be the same.
END OF PART iii
Okay, wow, like I said. Boy do I feel like a fool for having so many incorrect words en Francais (missing the curve on the C in Francais). I apologize for that. Lol, couldn't help but add a pit of KumaFran action XP.
Bon – good
Sacrebleu – dammit
S'il vous plait – please
Salut – hello
C'est magnifique – it's magnificent
Merci (fixed -_- fail to me) – thank you
Pardon – pardon
Oui (fixed) – yes
Bonjour – hello