As Alfred's microwave beeped at him to let him know that his pizza rolls were done, he heard the faint sound of a Skype call ringing from his laptop's speakers a room away. Glancing at the clock, and pulling the snack out, Alfred saw that it was five in the evening.
"Shit," he griped, running– while trying to balance his food– to his computer. He set the hot plate of carbs down on the table. Running a hand through his hair at the last second, he slammed the answer button and beamed at the camera.
After a moment of blurry connection, Alfred could see his boyfriend on the screen looking back at him. He waggled his fingers.
"Hello there, gorgeous, how was your day?" The long haired blonde who's face was before him sat silent for a second as their call lagged. Then, hearing Alfred's greeting, a wide and pleased smile spread on his cheeks.
"Bon soir, mon ami. My day has been fine but it is much better now that I'm talking to you." His eyes went flirty and Alfred laughed happily, popping a pizza roll into his mouth.
"So what's up?" The American asked brightly, leaning back onto his couch, his words sounding more like 'o w'at uh' as they were formed around a half-chewed mouthful of food. His boyfriend wrinkled his nose at the lack of manners, but understood Alfred perfectly due to how common an occurrence it was for him to speak with his mouth stuffed full.
"I worked my shift at the store, made absolutely no progress on my art, and came home and took a nap. And now I'm talking to you." Alfred slouched forward a bit.
"I'm sorry, was today one of those creative block sort of days?" He asked gently. Francis nodded.
"More like a creative block sort of month... My art has been slow and not of good quality. I don't know what's wrong there. But really though, I'm so happy to talk to you. It cheers me up despite it all." Francis replied earnestly, bright eyes locked on the camera. Alfred's fingers twitched as he wished he could brush Francis' hair from his face and caress his cheek and whisper in his ear that everything would be alright.
"I'm glad I make you happy, because you make me the happiest guy alive, so, it's good to know I return at least a little bit of that." His grin of love at Francis stretched from ear to ear, causing the other man to coo a little and then laugh. Francis bent away from the camera and then lifted a sketch pad and charcoal up.
"Maybe drawing the most beautiful person I know will get me out of my artistic funk. Sit still, mon amour."
And so the evening went on in that way. Francis did a rough sketch of that indescribable smile of Alfred's, showed it to him, and then blushed as Alfred fawned over it. The two caught up on the little things and talked about the future until both were yawning into oblivion.
"Francis, you have work tomorrow. You've got to go, dude, or else you'll regret it." Alfred said with pursed lips and fake judgmental eyes. Francis rolled his shoulders, blinking his droopy eyes.
"Peut-être, but maybe I will regret the loss of time of seeing your face more so." Alfred snorted and shook his head.
"No, no, I know you. You'll regret the lack of sleep more. Go sink into your bed like you know you want to." Francis conceded a nod.
"Oui, oui, I would like to go to bed. Preferably with you, but, you are right, nonetheless. Goodnight, Alfred. Je t'aime beaucoup."
"I love you, too, Francis. G'night."
A few days later, approaching the month that contained Alfred and Francis' birthdays, Francis walked down the aisle of a small grocery store deciding what to buy for the week. As his squinted and looked back and forth between two incredibly similar jars of something or other, his phone began to ring. Without even looking he brought it to his ear.
"Salut," He said, shifting to hold the phone with his shoulder. He was surprised at what he heard on the other end.
"Hey, Francis. Can we skype?" Alfred's voice asked quickly and cheerfully. Francis raised a brow.
"Quoi?" Glancing at his watch and seeing that it was about ten in the morning, his confusion was deepened. "Is it not two o'clock A.M. where you are? What is the hurry, do you miss me so much?"
"Uhm. Yes. Are you out?" Francis set a jar in the basket he carried over his arm.
"Oui, just doing a little grocery shopping. I'm almost finished, though, so I will hurry home. Just be patient, cher."
"Will do, babe. See you soon." Francis chuckled at the excitement in his boyfriends voice. He was such an eager young man.
"Alright, mon amour, talk to you then."
Francis hummed softly to himself as he walked up towards his apartment door. He shifted his weight to balance the shopping bag he carried against his hip and leg, and began to dig in his pocket for his keys. Before he found them however, one hand snatched his purchases and another spun him around.
There, grinning like a fool and sweating a little from standing in the sun, stood Alfred.
"Alfred?! You nearly just scared me to death! Oh mon dieu. I am so happy you are here! Why are you here? What on earth are you doing here?" Alfred gently set the bag on the sidewalk before wrapping his arms tightly around Francis' torso and spinning him around gleefully. Francis fought off giggles that bubbled in his stomach at the pure joy he felt to have Alfred there, corporeal and solid and handsome as ever. Right in front of him, hugging him, spinning him. And then kissing him. When the pulled away Alfred explained.
"I took the month off to come and spend here, so we can both see each other in person for our birthdays. And because I wanted to see you, anyway. And I thought a surprise would be nice. I hope it won't be a problem." He got a little bashful towards the end, but Francis merely shook his head and cupped Alfred's cheeks in his hands.
"It is absolutely not a problem at all, mon amant. Now, let's get inside so I can unwrap the best possible early birthday present you could ever have gotten me."
"Yeah, let's," Alfred agreed, locking their lips again and beginning their journey to the door, inside, and to Francis' waiting bedroom.