Two Little Sweethearts- Taste (1)
Title: Two Little Sweethearts
Pairing: USUK
Rating: K
Warnings: Language
Summary: Two assumptions lead to a small fight in a pastry shop.
For day three of the Sweetheart's Week event at the usxuk community.
A young woman perused the glass counter, trying to decide which pastry to buy. They were arranged neatly, almost as if they were ready for a professional photo shoot. There were the usual croissants and beignets, but also éclairs, macarons, canelés, mille-feuille, and religieuse, all perfectly plump and shining with sugar. Any customer who passed by was enchanted by their sweet smell, and then came in to drool over the French treats. However, in one small corner of the display say a small lump of black pastries on a tiny plate. A sign in front of it read "Scones". Most customers left that alone.
The young woman hesitated at seeing the plate. Looking up at blond man behind the counter, she asked," Um, what is that?"
The man smiled widely. His name tag stated his name was Arthur. "Scones, ma'am. I made them just recently, so they're fresh."
"I…see. Did you make anything else?" she asked nervously.
When Arthur opened his mouth to answer, another, taller, blond man came from the back room. He was holding a tray of delicious smelling éclairs. "Nope, but I just made these!"
"I'll take two!" the woman exclaimed suddenly.
The second man beamed, and then grabbed two off of the tray with tongs. He bagged them and then rang the customer up. Arthur marched into the back angrily. His thick eyebrows made him seem all the more upset.
A third blond man was in the back, humming as he rolled a rolling pin over a pile of dough. The back room was a bright blue kitchen with shelves filled with dough, flour, chocolate, and sugar. Five large ovens commandeered an entire wall. In the center of the room was a large island counter where the three chefs prepared the pastries. A radio perched on a top shelf and played French music all day.
The three men wore different colored aprons. Arthur wore a soft green, the second man wore baby blue, and the third man had on plain white. His sleeves were rolled up, and his arms were coated in flour.
"Oh, hello Arthur," he said pleasantly. "Did Alfred steal another one of your customers?"
Arthur grabbed a lump of dough and began beating it into the counter. "Yes, Francis," he hissed. "I swear that Yank pisses me off! Who does he think he is, coming in and smiling like some bloody movie star, and then makes fun of my cooking?!"
"I didn't make fun of your cooking." Alfred was at the door with his arms crossed. "Your food speaks for itself. It's not my fault so many people are turned off by it."
Arthur seethed at Alfred in replied. Francis simply laughed at their exchange. He washed his hands and arms. "Alfred, why don't you finish making these beignets while I go up front?"
"Sure thing!" Alfred moved to roll up his sleeves.
Arthur jaw dropped, and then he seized up in anger. "What? You honestly expect him to fry those properly? He's terrible!"
"I am not!"
"Nevertheless, that is why I am helping Alfred," France said as he dried his hands. "He is still in training. Therefore, I see no problem."
The chef left then. Arthur went back to pounding the flour, grumbling to himself. "That isn't helping. That's passing me right up. How insufferable, the lot of them…"
"You talking to your little 'fairy' friends again?" Alfred asked teasingly.
Arthur bristled. He hated the fact that Alfred got under his skin worse than chunks of dough under his nails. He was three years older than Alfred, and yet he would bicker with him as if he were five again. He was tougher than this. Growing up with three older brothers who teased him relentlessly made him develop thick skin. So then, what was it about this boy?
"No," was all Arthur could say, despite everything else he wanted to shout.
Alfred chuckled. "Sure."
There were quiet for a little while as they continued to work. The music flittered around the room. Arthur relaxed after a time, and even let his eyes drift up to look at Alfred. There was no use denying Alfred was an attractive young man. His charm even worked on perfectly straight men. He stood across from Arthur, rolling the dough in preparation. There was always this little smile on his face, as if he had some small secret he'd share with the pastries and sugar. It made Arthur a little jealous to see that smile constantly. It also made him wonder if a special someone in his life also got to see it.
"Are you thinking about your girlfriend?" Arthur asked suddenly.
"Huh?" Alfred looked up with bright eyes. His glasses accentuated his blue eyes. "I don't have a girlfriend."
Arthur was annoyed at this; or was he more annoyed because he was relieved at hearing this? "That's rather surprising given the kind of boy you are."
Alfred frowned. "And what kind of guy am I, Arthur?"
Arthur's face felt hot. He lowered his eyes back down to watch his hands. "Just…well. You are a handsome boy, so I'm amazed you haven't picked up any woman yet."
Alfred stopped what he was doing. Without even looking up, Arthur knew he had triggered something. "Well, sure, if I'm some jerk that does on looks alone. I guess I could pick up any girl I wanted. Do you think I'm shallow like you?"
"L-like me?" Arthur looked up, insulted. "How do you mean?"
"Well, you obviously are sleeping with Francis. How else could you have gotten this job?" Arthur balled his hands until his knuckles went white. "I mean, hey, whatevs. Francis is a pretty hot guy. I guess you're okay too. And what you do in bed and with whoever is fine by me. It's not a big deal."
By now, Arthur's hands were shaking. His face was red from immense anger. Even Alfred, the clueless wonder, saw that he had crossed a line. Arthur grabbed a chunk of dough, and then flung it at Alfred with all his might. It hit the man right in his face, knocking his glasses off. He stumbled back in surprise.
"You. Ass. Hole." Arthur squared up for a fight or some kind of retaliation, but nothing came. He decided to launch into a full on assault. "You have no right to assume such things! Just because you may not like me food does not mean I am so terrible that I need to fornicate with Francis of all people! Here I was trying to be nice to you when you don't deserve it, and this is what you come back at me with? What an incredibly low and vile thing to say!"
Arthur's words had frozen Alfred to where he stood. Francis appeared with a worried look on his face. "What is all this arguing?"
"Alfred thinks we're sleeping together!" Arthur snapped. "Fire him!"
Francis sniggered, which only served to make Arthur even more upset. "Alfred is not someone I could or would want to fire. I hired him for his looks to bring in more ladies."
"So…not for my baking skills?" Francis nodded. "But…then why is Arthur here?"
"Because he asked," Francis replied casually. "He is my cousin."
"C-cousin?" Alfred stuttered.
Arthur looked away with his arms crossed. "Yes, as much as I don't like to think on it, we are related."
"But, I am teaching you both. You, Alfred, put in too much sugar, and Arthur burns things. Both of you are just as bad at baking as the other. I pick no favorites as it is really just me who can bake."
"Isn't that a little…," Arthur started.
"Ah, but I must attend to the customers!" With that, Francis left with a wave.
Alfred and Arthur stared at each other with French music drifting between them once again. There was still dough on Arthur's face and Arthur's face was still a little red. Despite all of his silly bravado, Alfred became extremely shy as he wiped his face off and retrieved his glasses.
"I… I'm sorry. I didn't know…" Arthur watched him, curiously. "And I didn't know about me, either. Turn out…Francis is the shallow one. Man, I feel really stupid now."
"As you should be," Arthur started, feeling another round of comebacks surging within him. However, seeing Alfred's genuinely upset expression, he stopped. "But…thank you. I... It's not your fault you didn't know about me and Francis. While Francis is a…friend and I am in his debt for giving me this job, I still don't like others to know we're family."
"Well, you smell better than him." Arthur looked at Alfred with wide eyes at the same time Alfred realized what he had just said. "Er-I-um-ah! I don't smell you or anything! It's just I-you know! Um!"
Then, Arthur began to laugh. "That is certainly the strangest compliment I have ever received, but thank you. I suppose anyone would smell better than a frog."
"Y-yeah!" Alfred smiled, relieved. "Uh…and I mean what I said about it not being a big deal with whoever you are with. I… well I'm bi, so…"
Arthur looked surprised by this. He always thought the good ones were taken, fictional, or straight. But this changed everything. "I…see. Well… I um… I'm bi as well, so thank you, again."
Arthur pointedly looked away when Alfred smiled at this, as if hearing about Arthur's sexuality was some sort of good news to him. He didn't want his mind to travel down that road. He had put a stop to such thoughts months ago when Alfred first applied for a job here. In truth, he was the one who had pushed Francis to give him the job. Even if Alfred was taken or straight, as long as he was close to him, that was enough for Arthur.
But of course he'd never say such a thing to Alfred.
"Yeah? So, seeing as we're both unattached guys, um… You wanna get some coffee sometime?"
Arthur couldn't take much more emotional shock. First, they argued and he threw dough at the man's face, and now Alfred was possibly asking him out on a date?
His body acted on its own. "Y-yes… That sounds…"
"Sweet," Alfred finished for him.
"Yes."
Hoshiko2's cents: So this is kind of Zo One's fault as I had no idea what to do with this prompt, but I had to put in that Alfred thought Arthur was sleeping with Francis. Turns out, both of them thought the other was already taken. Such silly boys!
There is a second story to today's prompt. It is much more sad, so read with that caution in mind.
Pairing: USUK
Rating: K
Warnings: Language
Summary: Two assumptions lead to a small fight in a pastry shop.
For day three of the Sweetheart's Week event at the usxuk community.
A young woman perused the glass counter, trying to decide which pastry to buy. They were arranged neatly, almost as if they were ready for a professional photo shoot. There were the usual croissants and beignets, but also éclairs, macarons, canelés, mille-feuille, and religieuse, all perfectly plump and shining with sugar. Any customer who passed by was enchanted by their sweet smell, and then came in to drool over the French treats. However, in one small corner of the display say a small lump of black pastries on a tiny plate. A sign in front of it read "Scones". Most customers left that alone.
The young woman hesitated at seeing the plate. Looking up at blond man behind the counter, she asked," Um, what is that?"
The man smiled widely. His name tag stated his name was Arthur. "Scones, ma'am. I made them just recently, so they're fresh."
"I…see. Did you make anything else?" she asked nervously.
When Arthur opened his mouth to answer, another, taller, blond man came from the back room. He was holding a tray of delicious smelling éclairs. "Nope, but I just made these!"
"I'll take two!" the woman exclaimed suddenly.
The second man beamed, and then grabbed two off of the tray with tongs. He bagged them and then rang the customer up. Arthur marched into the back angrily. His thick eyebrows made him seem all the more upset.
A third blond man was in the back, humming as he rolled a rolling pin over a pile of dough. The back room was a bright blue kitchen with shelves filled with dough, flour, chocolate, and sugar. Five large ovens commandeered an entire wall. In the center of the room was a large island counter where the three chefs prepared the pastries. A radio perched on a top shelf and played French music all day.
The three men wore different colored aprons. Arthur wore a soft green, the second man wore baby blue, and the third man had on plain white. His sleeves were rolled up, and his arms were coated in flour.
"Oh, hello Arthur," he said pleasantly. "Did Alfred steal another one of your customers?"
Arthur grabbed a lump of dough and began beating it into the counter. "Yes, Francis," he hissed. "I swear that Yank pisses me off! Who does he think he is, coming in and smiling like some bloody movie star, and then makes fun of my cooking?!"
"I didn't make fun of your cooking." Alfred was at the door with his arms crossed. "Your food speaks for itself. It's not my fault so many people are turned off by it."
Arthur seethed at Alfred in replied. Francis simply laughed at their exchange. He washed his hands and arms. "Alfred, why don't you finish making these beignets while I go up front?"
"Sure thing!" Alfred moved to roll up his sleeves.
Arthur jaw dropped, and then he seized up in anger. "What? You honestly expect him to fry those properly? He's terrible!"
"I am not!"
"Nevertheless, that is why I am helping Alfred," France said as he dried his hands. "He is still in training. Therefore, I see no problem."
The chef left then. Arthur went back to pounding the flour, grumbling to himself. "That isn't helping. That's passing me right up. How insufferable, the lot of them…"
"You talking to your little 'fairy' friends again?" Alfred asked teasingly.
Arthur bristled. He hated the fact that Alfred got under his skin worse than chunks of dough under his nails. He was three years older than Alfred, and yet he would bicker with him as if he were five again. He was tougher than this. Growing up with three older brothers who teased him relentlessly made him develop thick skin. So then, what was it about this boy?
"No," was all Arthur could say, despite everything else he wanted to shout.
Alfred chuckled. "Sure."
There were quiet for a little while as they continued to work. The music flittered around the room. Arthur relaxed after a time, and even let his eyes drift up to look at Alfred. There was no use denying Alfred was an attractive young man. His charm even worked on perfectly straight men. He stood across from Arthur, rolling the dough in preparation. There was always this little smile on his face, as if he had some small secret he'd share with the pastries and sugar. It made Arthur a little jealous to see that smile constantly. It also made him wonder if a special someone in his life also got to see it.
"Are you thinking about your girlfriend?" Arthur asked suddenly.
"Huh?" Alfred looked up with bright eyes. His glasses accentuated his blue eyes. "I don't have a girlfriend."
Arthur was annoyed at this; or was he more annoyed because he was relieved at hearing this? "That's rather surprising given the kind of boy you are."
Alfred frowned. "And what kind of guy am I, Arthur?"
Arthur's face felt hot. He lowered his eyes back down to watch his hands. "Just…well. You are a handsome boy, so I'm amazed you haven't picked up any woman yet."
Alfred stopped what he was doing. Without even looking up, Arthur knew he had triggered something. "Well, sure, if I'm some jerk that does on looks alone. I guess I could pick up any girl I wanted. Do you think I'm shallow like you?"
"L-like me?" Arthur looked up, insulted. "How do you mean?"
"Well, you obviously are sleeping with Francis. How else could you have gotten this job?" Arthur balled his hands until his knuckles went white. "I mean, hey, whatevs. Francis is a pretty hot guy. I guess you're okay too. And what you do in bed and with whoever is fine by me. It's not a big deal."
By now, Arthur's hands were shaking. His face was red from immense anger. Even Alfred, the clueless wonder, saw that he had crossed a line. Arthur grabbed a chunk of dough, and then flung it at Alfred with all his might. It hit the man right in his face, knocking his glasses off. He stumbled back in surprise.
"You. Ass. Hole." Arthur squared up for a fight or some kind of retaliation, but nothing came. He decided to launch into a full on assault. "You have no right to assume such things! Just because you may not like me food does not mean I am so terrible that I need to fornicate with Francis of all people! Here I was trying to be nice to you when you don't deserve it, and this is what you come back at me with? What an incredibly low and vile thing to say!"
Arthur's words had frozen Alfred to where he stood. Francis appeared with a worried look on his face. "What is all this arguing?"
"Alfred thinks we're sleeping together!" Arthur snapped. "Fire him!"
Francis sniggered, which only served to make Arthur even more upset. "Alfred is not someone I could or would want to fire. I hired him for his looks to bring in more ladies."
"So…not for my baking skills?" Francis nodded. "But…then why is Arthur here?"
"Because he asked," Francis replied casually. "He is my cousin."
"C-cousin?" Alfred stuttered.
Arthur looked away with his arms crossed. "Yes, as much as I don't like to think on it, we are related."
"But, I am teaching you both. You, Alfred, put in too much sugar, and Arthur burns things. Both of you are just as bad at baking as the other. I pick no favorites as it is really just me who can bake."
"Isn't that a little…," Arthur started.
"Ah, but I must attend to the customers!" With that, Francis left with a wave.
Alfred and Arthur stared at each other with French music drifting between them once again. There was still dough on Arthur's face and Arthur's face was still a little red. Despite all of his silly bravado, Alfred became extremely shy as he wiped his face off and retrieved his glasses.
"I… I'm sorry. I didn't know…" Arthur watched him, curiously. "And I didn't know about me, either. Turn out…Francis is the shallow one. Man, I feel really stupid now."
"As you should be," Arthur started, feeling another round of comebacks surging within him. However, seeing Alfred's genuinely upset expression, he stopped. "But…thank you. I... It's not your fault you didn't know about me and Francis. While Francis is a…friend and I am in his debt for giving me this job, I still don't like others to know we're family."
"Well, you smell better than him." Arthur looked at Alfred with wide eyes at the same time Alfred realized what he had just said. "Er-I-um-ah! I don't smell you or anything! It's just I-you know! Um!"
Then, Arthur began to laugh. "That is certainly the strangest compliment I have ever received, but thank you. I suppose anyone would smell better than a frog."
"Y-yeah!" Alfred smiled, relieved. "Uh…and I mean what I said about it not being a big deal with whoever you are with. I… well I'm bi, so…"
Arthur looked surprised by this. He always thought the good ones were taken, fictional, or straight. But this changed everything. "I…see. Well… I um… I'm bi as well, so thank you, again."
Arthur pointedly looked away when Alfred smiled at this, as if hearing about Arthur's sexuality was some sort of good news to him. He didn't want his mind to travel down that road. He had put a stop to such thoughts months ago when Alfred first applied for a job here. In truth, he was the one who had pushed Francis to give him the job. Even if Alfred was taken or straight, as long as he was close to him, that was enough for Arthur.
But of course he'd never say such a thing to Alfred.
"Yeah? So, seeing as we're both unattached guys, um… You wanna get some coffee sometime?"
Arthur couldn't take much more emotional shock. First, they argued and he threw dough at the man's face, and now Alfred was possibly asking him out on a date?
His body acted on its own. "Y-yes… That sounds…"
"Sweet," Alfred finished for him.
"Yes."
Hoshiko2's cents: So this is kind of Zo One's fault as I had no idea what to do with this prompt, but I had to put in that Alfred thought Arthur was sleeping with Francis. Turns out, both of them thought the other was already taken. Such silly boys!
There is a second story to today's prompt. It is much more sad, so read with that caution in mind.