[Fic] Boîte Au Trésor
Title: Boîte Au Trésor
Length: 1/X
Author: dellyrin
Pairing: MinSu / eventual YooSu / I will end up fitting YunJae in somewhere. xD
Beta-ed by: akioflove**
Rating: PG (for now?)
Summary:
Before I begin, this was inspired from the anime "Antique Bakery". But no, plot is different. xD
Junsu, a 19 year old boy, is an apprentice patisser at a small shop he runs together with his grandfather. Besides Changmin, his best friend and someone he holds close to his heart, he loves sweets and enjoy making little pastries and desserts. No one really paid attention to their little shop, at least not until Yoochun, the proud young CEO of Park Group Hotels, came along with a mission to gather Korea's best patissers and bring them into his hotels' restaurants.
Junsu begins to see beyond Yoochun's cold extirior and Yoochun learns to open up to Junsu. Before they even realise it, they have completely fallen head over heels in love with each other.
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The raindrops fell and hit against the big glass window of the small, dim little shop by the name of “Boîte Au Trésor”*.
A boy, with an apron tied loosely around his waist, looked up from the bowl he was busy with and let out a small sigh of disappointment. Rain always meant that they would have no customers for the day, people usually preferring to stay indoors, in the comfort of their blankets, maybe with a cup of hot chocolate.
The young apprentice placed the bowl down and dusted his hands off on his black waist apron as he made his way out of the kitchen. He spotted the old man sitting in his usual spot, behind the glass counter that housed his little creations, peering over his spectacles as he read the day’s news. The young apprentice lets out a more audible sigh and pouts as he leaned on the smooth glass that separated him and his little cakes.
The old man let out a chuckle.
“Grandpa, when are you going to start helping me in the kitchen?”
The old man finally looked up from his newspaper and peered up at the boy with an odd twinkle in his eye. “I don’t like that look in your eyes,” the boy sulked as he leaned further over the glass counter, trying to snatch the paper from the old man. He tip toed and wriggled his butt as he pulled himself further up and the old man watched his grandson in amusement as he held the papers comfortably out of reach.
Without so much as a warning, the bells at the entrance sounded violently as a slightly ruffled man rushed through the door, sending the bells hanging at the door crashing into each other. The boy stopped, frozen in his position and raised an eyebrow at the sudden intruder before finally slipping off the glass counter, his hands running over his slightly crumpled apron.
“H-How may I help you?” He cleared his throat nervously before asking.
The man shook the rainwater off his hair as he held the wet newspaper away from his body. He had a slightly oval shaped face, his fringe covering his high forehead. The boy noticed his coat was slightly damp as he removed it and draped it over his arm. Underneath, he wore a white shirt now wrinkled and dampened by the rain and a pair of dark brown pants.
The man glanced at the stunned boy who looked no older than 19, assuming he was a waiter there, he handed the wet newspaper and his damp coat to him and walked across the quaint little shop. Sitting down at one of the delicately carved wooden tables, he then motioned for the boy.
Mortified at being mistaken for a waiter, he threw his grandfather a scandalized look and muttered curses under his breath. All his grandfather did was to furrow his brows and cocked his head in the direction of the saucy young man that had just walked in.
After putting away the coat and the newspaper, the young apprentice grabbed the nearest menu reluctantly, let out a sigh of resignation and trudged over to the seated customer. He placed the menu on the table and forced his lips into the shape of an upward crescent.
“What would you like to have, sir?”
“Crème Brulee,” came the quick and curt reply.
“Certainly. Please give me a moment,”
The boy made his way back to the front counter where his little treasures were kept and he reached in to pick out a ramekin. From his seat, the strange man watched through the glass and was surprised to see the change in the young boy’s mood the moment he laid eyes on the dessert. His facial features softened and a genuine smile formed on his lips. For a moment, he looked pure and naïve that he felt as though he wanted to shield him from what was beyond the walls of this quaint little shop.
“Here you go, sir. Enjoy your dessert,”
“W-wait… I’m Yoochun. Park Yoochun. What’s your name?”
“Junsu. Kim Junsu.” The boy offered him a smile and turned away, walking back into the kitchen.
Yoochun cleared his throat and picked up the small spoon next to the saucer that the dessert was placed upon. The dessert was decorated with berries on top of the burnt cream and looked almost too pretty to eat. He gently scooped up a little of the cream and a blue berry and placed the spoon in his mouth.
The moment his tongue tasted the dessert, Yoochun found himself reaching out for more. It was just Crème Brulee, something he could find in any other pastry shop.
But this was different.
Yoochun felt the burnt caramel melt almost instantly in his mouth and it blended in with the custard cream underneath perfectly. The fruit added a tinge of taste to the sweetness, without making it overly sweet.
He loved the taste. A small smile formed on Yoochun’s lips as he remembered what this taste was.
Love.
And happiness.
Yes, definitely happiness.
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Unknown to Yoochun, Junsu was watching him eat with his head sticking out of the kitchen door. His heart thumped as he watched Yoochun place that first spoon of dessert into his mouth. He didn’t know how long he held his breath for but he remembered the strange feeling he felt when Yoochun smiled.
He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone smiled when eating his desserts and Junsu treasured that smile.
Junsu turned back into the kitchen, his hand on his chest as he finally allowed himself to breathe. When he turned back to walk out to Yoochun, he realized the table was empty.
Empty, except for a 20 dollar bill and a name card with Yoochun’s name, just above his cell phone number.
The distant tinkling of the doorbells could be heard as the doors to Trésor gently slid shut.
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A/N:
* "Boîte Au Trésor " is french for "Treasure Box". [[Correct me if I'm wrong!!]]
** This woman took long enough make herself know. OMG. ILY. *hugs head*
The usual. I suck at summaries. I HATE HATE HATE them with a vengence because I always screw that part of my Genreal Paper up. But you know, I saw the need to include it in. If not, nobody would know what I'm talking about. Clarify your doubts with me if you have any! ^^
This will be a pretty short chatered fic. x))
And as stated above, this is inspired by "Antique Bakery". Plot is different.. just hte whole french desserts idea.
And the desserts really look awesome. ^^
I'm taking a really long time to hit the post button... TT^TT