I thought about it months ago...

[rapturescreed]

Who: Raul Creed, Francis Bonnefoy, and Franz d'Epinay
When: December 11th, mid-afternoon.
Where: Lion's Gate Club
Summary: Raul is making sure everything is okay. Franz notices something off.
Warnings: PG-13. Mentions of sexual conduct.

Comments

[paysdelamour]

[It is when Raul starts on his usual rounds when Francis arrives at work, thirty minutes earlier than any of the kitchen staff, as was typical for the chef. Bundled up in a long winter coat as well as a matching scarf and hat, as well as sleek leather gloves and boots, as well as a sweater underneath all of that, he is thankful to be in the heat of the employee break room, at least compared to outside - at least, that was what his mild French swears would indicate. The kitchen is still cold, because when he stepped in from the back door all of the heat had escaped to the outside. And, well, tile and stainless steel are very good at cooling down quickly as well as heating up quickly.

He shivers as he rubs his arms, letting himself warm up in the small, room-temperature room. Thankfully, it did not take too long to stop shaking in his boots, and soon Francis is shedding his many winter layers. His accessories are the first to go, which are placed together as neatly as the can on the sofa he'd bought, with all the bet money from the hideous wedding in the summer. Next is his coat, which he hangs up on the coat rack provided.

Finally, he sets down his man purse bag, and pulls out an undershirt that fits tight to him. It was best to wear under the chef's coat to keep him from getting too hot near the blazing stoves and ovens, but also made it easier to wash the chef's coat only when needed, while the undershirt would be taken back home and washed. Good-quality chef's coats were horribly expensive. Thankfully, the slacks he was wearing would be fine for the job, but the boots had to be changed for more comfortable shoes. Thankfully, he also had some of those in his bag.

Then, the sweater. Lord knows how the man came across a lilac cashmere sweater (even though he looks marvelous in the color), but he's currently stripping it off to place it in a crumpled heap on the sofa. Meanwhile, he's mentally tallying what he still needs to do now that he's at work - start up the ovens to get them warmed up, checking to see if they have every ingredient they'll need, and so forth.]

[rapturescreed]

[Raul wasn't very pleased when he checked in the kitchen, wondering where most of the people were. Sure, it was earlier then they were supposed to be in, but Raul lived on Romdeau time, which meant everything should be five minutes fast.

He only looked around the kitchen a few times before going into the break room. The place was nice, as it should be, though Raul had never seen it more then a quarter filled at any one time. Which was how it was supposed to work; every employee should be working, not "hanging out" in the break room.

But. Pushing the door open, Raul was surprised to find someone there. A half naked someone, and he pauses, letting the door fall shut behind him as he raised an eyebrow.]

Mr... Bonnefoy, hello.

[paysdelamour]

[Francis first heard the door open, and he turned slightly over his shoulder to see who it was. But it was the voice that really gave the person away.] Ah, monsieur Creed. À vous aussi.

[He affords a brief smile, before he sets his mind back to his task - removing his shoes. He bends over, crouching just enough to unlace his boots. When he stands again, he uses the wall to tug off each boot, and set them to the side.

As he's pulling out his work shoes from his bag, he calls behind him.] I take it you have been well, since I saw you last? [And then he's back to bending down to tug his proper shoes onto his feet and tie them. And finally, he reaches over for his undershirt and tugs it over his head, turning to face his boss.]

ahaha oh, France...

[rapturescreed]

[Raul arched an eyebrow at that and smirked.] Yes, I've been fine. Getting ready for the holiday season. Yourself?

[paysdelamour]

[Ah, one last detail forgotten. He digs in his bag for something to tie his hair up into the ponytail, to keep it out of the way and away from the food later in the evening.]

Mm, still recovering from cooking sweets for eleven people the night before Saint Nicolas' day. [He lets out a small chuckle, as he starts packing up his things to toss in his locker for later.] And, of course, getting things set up for "Santa" to visit the Lion's Gate for the holiday season. Is it still all right to make a Secret Santa as well, by the way, m'sieur?

[rapturescreed]

[Lalala not thinking about anything nope.]

You do to much. [Nods seriously.] Yes, of course it's all right. Everyone will be getting something this holiday season, it seems.

[paysdelamour]

Too much? Nonsense. [He lets out a chuckle.] One can never do too much. When you grow to be a certain age, you come to find you love to keep yourself busy with something. Not even a full-time job can keep me busy all of the time.

Mm, I had best get started in the kitchens, non? I wouldn't want there to be a late dinner on my hands.

[rapturescreed]

Of course, of course. [Raul nodded, gesturing to the door.]

Mind if I join you? I need to go to the kitchens, myself.

[paysdelamour]

By all means. [He chuckles, patting Raul on the shoulder as he passes by him.] You are the boss around here.

[So Francis makes his way to the kitchen and starts digging in the lower cupboards for the pots and pans needed, turning on the ovens to get things started, heating up the burners on the stove just a little to get the pans warmed up and ready to go. He moves like clockwork, smoothly and perfectly metered.] I wouldn't be able to kick you out even I wanted to, oui?

[rapturescreed]

[Raul didn't say anything for a minute, leaning to the side and checking out his ass as he dug around in the cupboards, before leaning back straight up. He then leaned his hip against the counter, folding his arms.]

No, if you insisted, I would leave.

[paysdelamour]

[He pours a little cooking oil into each one, swishing it around to evenly coat the bottom of each pan. Aren't you so grateful you have a cook who's been at this for... oh... five hundred years?]

Well, as I said, I don't want to make you leave. You are good company.

[rapturescreed]

[Always for that.]

You are good company as well. [Watches in interest.] You are rather good at all this. Was it hard to learn how to cook?

[paysdelamour]

It is simply following instructions, if one is to boil it down. It is hard to master some of the techniques. It is hard to learn when to ignore the instructions for the greater good of the dish. But learning how? Non.

[rapturescreed]

I've tried to cook, before, following the directions. But there is something more to it then that.

[paysdelamour]

As I said, it is learning when to ignore the instructions to improve the dish, or make it more to your taste. A proper recipe will taste wonderful no matter what, mais, adding a pinch more of this here, taking out a bit of this there... you gain a sense of it, cooking so long as I have.

[Everything seems complete in the kitchen, and so, he checks the refrigerators to make sure they have enough of everything.] Magnifique, everything seems in order... [And finally, Francis slumps back to rest on the counter, placing his hands on either side and gripping to the edge.]

[rapturescreed]

If you would make a list of certain things you may need... I can send out for them. Anything at all, really.