Alfred F. Jones was not addicted to watching porn, by any stretch, but that wasn't to say he didn't quite enjoy doing so as a pastime. It was casual. Watching a quick video before bed was a small part of his nightly routine. And, like many with anything they might watch, like movies or tv shows, he had a favorite "actor". Which would otherwise not be very important, as someone's favorite performer of any kind generally was not, were it not for a particular series of events that occurred at a Kroger's one day.

He was picking up boxes of cereal and trying to decide if it was more cost effective to buy two regular boxes of Frosted Flakes or one family size box, when he noticed a figure dressed in sweats join him in the aisle. The person's joggers were tucked into a pair of cute but lazily-laced boots, and they wore a dull purple hoodie with the hood pulled completely up. Alfred didn't pay the person much mind. Who pays attention to random people in a grocery store? Not him. That is, until he turned to head farther down the aisle just when the other took their hood down so they could squint at the label on a jar of jam.

Even with his hair up in a messy, mom-looking bun, and an exhausted sort of look on his face, Alfred could recognize that guy anywhere. He'd practically memorized the sound of his moans, whether or not they were faked, and he could see the image of his orgasm face in his mind as clear as day. He dropped his Frosted Flakes.

Francis turned his head slowly. He was not unused to shocked and excited and obnoxious reactions from people who recognized him from his work when they spotted him in public, but that didn't make him any happier to have to deal with it when he had a hangover and a large brunch to cook for his favorite younger brother who was coming into town to visit him. He forced a smile, bitterly, putting the strawberry jam into the basket he had hung over the crook of his arm.

"Hello."

Alfred scrambled to pick his cereal up, cheeks already pink, clearing his throat. Francis waited for the inevitable.

"I'm sorry, it's just that you're-"

"Francis Frederick, oui." He said with a curt nod. Alfred scratched the back of his head.

"I so totally don't mean to make a scene or anything I just, uh, like what you do." He tucked his Kellogg's cereal under his arm, shifting from foot to foot. "Seeing you caught me off guard. That's all." His face was an even mix of apologetic and starstruck as he struggled to maintain eye contact and not think about how he knew exactly what the small Frenchman looked like underneath all his clothes. Francis held back a sigh.

"Would you like an autograph or a selfie? I'd rather you didn't pick the latter, as I haven't showered in the last 24 hours and am trés dégoutant as a result." Alfred was hesitant for a moment, not wanting to be a bother, but then he realized he may never get an opportunity like this again. He nodded enthusiastically, approaching the pornstar.

"Sign my arm, please. No! Sign my jacket! Wait, uhm, sign this box of cereal." At a loss for what else to do, he held the Frosted Flakes out to Francis. Awkwardly. Francis blinked a moment, never having been asked to sign cereal before, and then took 'em from Alfred. He dug around in his pocket for his wallet, which had a sharpie slid onto it. When he found it he bit the cap and pulled, popping the lid off, and poised the marker over the back of the box.

"Who am I making this out to?" Francis glanced up at Alfred. The young man looked like it was taking all of his will power not to bounce in his eagerness. If he wasn't merely an excited fan, Francis might have thought he was cute. Very cute.

"Me. Aha, Alfred. A-l-f-r-e-d." He laughed nervously, face bright red. "Thanks."

Francis squiggled his stage-name, of sorts, and drew a bubbly heart next to it. He started to write a tiny note using Alfred's name, to make it personal, marking around it with X's and O's. While doing so, he peeked at and watched Alfred as he looked everywhere but directly at him. Francis was amused by how uncomfortable the young man appeared to be considering he had seemed so thrilled to meet Francis. He added a little something extra below his signature, and handed the box back. Alfred took it and stuffed it under his arm again without a glance at the autograph.

"I'm really sorry, I know you have a real life and would rather people like me didn't bother you while you're living it, but I wantcha to know I seriously appreciate you making time for me. And I also appreciate your work. Keep doing what you're doing." Alfred said with a thumbs up. And then his stomach dropped through the floor. Did I just fucking say that?! He screamed internally. He spun around on his feet and fled the aisle before he had the chance to say anything else to embarrass himself.

With a chuckle, Francis picked up another item from the shelf and resumed shopping.