Matthew watched as his heart shattered and broke onto the floor cascading into a million pieces. Breathing slowly he pressed his hands against his eyes to try and stop the tears from flowing. But he couldn't stop them and he ran away as fast as he could only grabbing hold of his beloved polar bear toy, as he left his life and his best friend lying in the arms of his boyfriend.
000ooo000

"Order UP Nathaniel!"
"Oui Gilbert!" Matthew Williams or Nathaniel Smith as they knew him called back spinning around to grab a frying pan from the cooker. He expertly tossed the contents onto a plate and flicked it toward the man who had shouted, who picked it up and winked at him with his signature cackle of 'Kesesesese!' He picked up a knife to start on the next dish. The café was called the Bad Touch Trio Café and was co-owned by three childhood friends named Francis, Antonio and Gilbert. They had run the café by themselves before Matthew came along. He could remember his first meeting with them very clearly even though it had been almost a year.

Matthew shuddered violently as he staggered along the pavement in the pouring rain. A series of violent coughs halted his admittedly slow progress down the street in the pouring rain. He dropped to his hands and knees, unable to move any further. Struggling to his feet for what seemed like the hundredth time, he managed to make it to a nearby doorway and curled up in a door, desperate for some food and warmth but receiving none. Thoughts of returning to Washington floated through his head but they were dismissed quickly. Arthur and Alfred had betrayed him and he would never go back there. Clutching the tattered and worn polar bear toy to his chest, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

When he next opened his eyes, an angel was hovering over him. "Un ange?" he asked stretching out a freezing hand to gently cup their face. A strong hand came up and pressed his hand to the angel's face.
"Mon petit? Can you stand?"
"Êtes-vous icipour m'enleverange?"
"Non suis ici pour vous aider."

And that was all he said as the angel picked him up and carried him into the alleyway next to the doorway. The faint rocking motion soothed him into a vague semblance of sleep. Dimly he could hear mutterings and the sensation of going up and up and up…

"Mon petit?" Matthew blinked then…
"Baiser!" he shouted pressing his cut hand to his stomach and managing to fling the uncontaminated vegetables into the frying pan.
"Gilbert! Toni!"
Gilbert's head appeared in the serving window and Antonio stuck his head through the kitchen door, both with curious expressions on their faces.
"Petit's hurt himself. Mind the kitchen, s'il vous plait?" And then without waiting for an answer he pulled Matthew over to a chair and pushed him down so he clumsily sat in it, still clutching his hand to his chest ignoring the fact that blood was now covering the stomach of his once-pristine white uniform. Antonio grinned knowingly at the back of Francis' head as he swanned in through the kitchen door and took over the cooking of the dish. Gilbert smiled sympathetically at Matthew before he disappeared again. His accented voice drifted back through the hatch as he informed the customers' what had happened.

Francis crooned softly as he gently forced Matthew's hand away from his stomach. He huffed out a breath through his nose and he examined the cut which was still bleeding sluggishly. Francis expertly bandaged Matthew's hand with quick and precise movements that only an expert GP or head chef could hope to replicate.
"What were you thinking about so hard petit?"
Matthew jerked backwards as his crushes face appeared directly in front of him.
"Erm… I was thinking about when we first met."
"Ohonhonhonhon! You mean when I rescued you petit?"
Matthew blushed at both Francis' proximity and the pet name that he always used instead of the aliases he gave them: Nathaniel Smith. He hated lying to people he considered his friends, despite his best efforts to keep them at arm's length, but he didn't know how to tell them that for all of the time that they knew him, he was lying to them. He just couldn't risk being found by his 'family.' He still checked on them: Alfred was an idiot when it came to privacy settings and so Matthew could see everything. His 'family' had thrown a fit when they found out that he was dating Arthur, yet they had accepted Alfred dating the same man? Of course, he was their golden boy who could do no wrong. Matthew on the other hand, was a mistake, a shadow, a disgrace.

"Petit?" He stared straight into Francis' eyes and for once did not look away; instead they seemed to draw him in. Francis leant in closer head tilting naturally to the side as-
"I'm still here you know!" shouted Antonio.
The crash that came from Matthew falling off the chair was audible in the restaurant in front prompting Gilbert to yell back, "Get out of the kitchen if you're going to fuck him Francis! We need to keep it clean!"
Francis hollered back, "Va te faire foutre, connard! Je ne ferais jamais quelque chose comme ça dans ma cuisine!"
In a more reasonable volume to Antonio he added, "I'm taking petit home. He's bashed his head thanks to you."
"Don't do anything that you'll regret in the morning Francis. We all care about him."
Matthew didn't speak but his face turned redder and redder until he resembled a maple leaf as Francis scooped him up like he weighed nothing and carried him out of the back door. It was one of Francis' favourite things to do with Matthew, possibly because he blushed and would hide his head in Francis' shoulder. The native Frenchman smelled of a curious blend of roses and lilies which was Matthew's second favourite smell (His favourite smell was maple syrup on pancakes.) But for now he leant against the Frenchman and simply enjoyed the moment. When Antonio and Gilbert returned from the café they found the two curled up together on the couch fast asleep.

Matthew yawned and attempted to roll over, only he found that he couldn't. Strong arms were wrapped around him, trapping him against a warm chest. He tilted his head back and saw Francis' sleeping face. He looked beautiful in the low slanting light coming from the window. After a few moments of wriggling, the arms loosened and he slipped out and kneeled down to stare at him. A trembling hand traced the side of his face all the way down to the slightly parted lips. Swiftly before he could change his mind, Matthew pressed his lips to Francis' and pulled away pressing a hand to his lips. He leapt up and ran into the kitchen. Pancakes, pancakes would make everything better. Francis cracked open an eye and grinned like the cat that had just eaten the cream, his petit loved him.

The next day, Matthew tried to keep out of Francis' way but it was hard to do so in a café ran by three people with him as the only other staff member, especially since Gilbert was away to see his boyfriend that day and Antonio was flirting with the delivery boy Romano. Often it was only him and Francis in the kitchen, isolated from the bustle of the café by thin walls. The Frenchman's tongue rolled luxuriously around a chocolate coated cherry as he gazed at Matthew with that gaze, the one that caused his face to heat up and his heart to flop about uselessly in his chest. Desperate to escape that gaze and its possible implications (oh god did he know?) he escaped out into the unusually busy café with another order. When it was Romano's turn to do deliveries, Antonio was useless so the other's had to pick up the slack. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts he didn't notice that startled gasp that came as he deposited the tray in front of the two strangers.
"Here's your order! Have a nice lunch!" he beamed reflexively and turned to go back to the kitchen but was halted by a familiar steel trap grip on his wrist and-
"Matthew?"

An ear-splitting shriek tore through the restaurant and Francis, Antonio and Romano came running. What they found shocked them: Nathaniel was clutched to Katyusha's well-developed chest with one hand pressed to his cheek; a smartly dressed man was face down on the table drenched in what must have been freshly brewed boiling hot coffee on one point, clutching burnt hands to his face and groaning softly; the coffee pot itself was lying innocently on its side under the table; another stranger was being restrained by Chief Braginski who in turn was partially being restrained by Sergeant Ludwig as the stranger was making several very inappropriate comments about Miss Katyusha and the position of Nathaniel's head that even Francis' wouldn't have dared to make!
Romano thankfully summed up everything that they were wondering about, "What the absolute fuck is going on here?!"
The entire café erupted in noise once more.

Several hours later (and the return of one very confused Gilbert who very swiftly turned into a very blood thirsty Gilbert after he heard that two 'verfickten Arschlöcher' had assaulted his Birdie!) the Trio plus Mattie and Katyusha were sitting in their slightly cramped kitchen.
"Nathaniel?" "Birdie?" "Petit?" The Trio all said and then glanced at each other and ducked their heads once more.
"Don't call me that," he whispered, refusing to meet their eyes instead staring at his hands.
"Call you what?"
"Nathaniel. I lied and I'm… so so so sorry!" The wall broke and he collapsed into a flood of tears. Francis nearly vaulted over the table to clutch the broken child to his chest and began to rock him, ignoring the pain that the smaller man caused from his fingernails scraping at his shoulders.
"Hush petit. Je suis ici. Je suis ici."
Eventually he calmed down enough to look at them all again and the expression on his face broke their heart. He looked broken.
"Well, I don't know about you lot," Katyusha said carefully rubbing a comforting hand on Matthew's shoulder, "But I don't see how our Nathaniel could possibly be their Matthew. After all, he has been here for at least three years and their Matthew ran away last year!"
The grin that lit up Matthew's face made everything better and Francis' swore that he would move heaven and hell to make sure that it never disappeared again.

"What the fuck do you mean?! That is my brother!"
He was not hiding, he wasn't, he was just-
"Why are you hiding petit?" Baiser! Matthew shyly peeked up from under his eyelashes to gaze at Francis' confused face. He only grinned and winked at the Canadian before scrambling into the spacious cupboard with him. They remained like that until Katyusha, with the sixth sense that women have, found them and informed them that the duo had left town. They looked at each other burst out laughing as they walked out of the café and there on the doorstep where they first met Francis Bonnefoy ducked his head down and kissed Matthew Williams.
"Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime aussi."

000ooo000
This was written to satisfy my need for fluff and it involved into Franada too so I can't complain. Please tell me that I am not the only one who thinks the BTT in waiter's outfits is strangely attractive? And should I expand on this and also post snapshots of what happened either before, during or after? Review and requests are taken, so please do both! :D

Translations:
Petit: Little one
Mon petit: my little one
Êtes-vous ici pour m'enlever ange? : Are you here to take me away angel?
Je suis ici pour vous aider: I am here to help you
Baiser: Fuck
Va te faire foutre, connard! Je ne ferais jamais quelque chose comme ça dans ma cuisine : Fuck you asshole! I would never do something like that in my kitchen!
verfickten Arschlöcher: Fucking Arseholes