#juantriumphant

[poissonier-siebold-blog]

❅

send me ❅ for my muse to cuddle up next to yours while asleep on the couch

Huh… Ugh, Mon Dieu. What have I done this time. Was it the wine? You better have been on your best behavior, Master Juan.

[thusdoisoar-blog]

First Impressions || Juan and Wikstrom

“Ho there, friend! You are Sir Juan, are you not? Gym Leader to this very region's league?” For politeness's sake, Wikstrom held out for a total of two or perhaps three seconds before his face was split in twain by a wide, eager smile. He did not wait for an answer.

“Joy and jubilation, it would appear my arduous journey is at its end! Verily, I have been looking for you for the better part of an afternoon!”

He could hear the imaginary sizzle of Siebold's temper somewhere in the back of his mind... something like frying an egg, he liked to think. Undoubtedly Siebold would be less than pleased that Wikstrom met the fellow ahead of the careful, utterly sterile conditions of the upcoming soirée... but then, Wikstrom was utterly set on making a favorable impression, and how was he to make a good first impression when he barely knew this fellow?!

“Well met, my man, well met!” He greeted, clasping him heartily on the shoulder. “I am Wikstrom, of course-- famed steel blade of the Kalos Elite Four! You shall have to forgive me for the intrusion-- I fear my curiosity hath bested me most handily~!”

[poissonier-siebold-blog]

“Have you fallen asleep on me?”

         “Mmm...,” Siebold murmurs, half asleep, as his eye flutter open and squint under the dim light. In his hand, a glass of wine was almost empty and very nearly slipping out of his grasp. His cheeks felt rosy, flushed from the effects of one too many glasses of vintage Merlot. It takes him a minute to realize he is resting his head on the shoulder of his guest, but his bones feel like lead and he is barely able to lift his head. He rubs tiredly at his eyes with his feel hand, eyebrows knit.“Desolé... Sorry for my rudeness, Monsieur.” He offers a weak, scratchy throated reply. 

[poissonier-siebold-blog]

Tepid Waters [Juan&Siebold]

        && re: {x}

“I-I must apologize, Monsieur! I was running a promotion at my restaurant and it was rather foolish...”

Siebold stumbled over words, feeling rather hot in the cheeks. He wished he could will away the heat licking at his skin with his icy demeanor, but all the fretting in the world would not save his cracking composure.

“I am... fully aware of the customs of European gentry, thank you!”

[poissonier-siebold-blog]

Juan!

 “M-Monsieur Juan!? Sil vous plait, I-I cannot do that! But surely... a man of his unique stature would understand th-that... such a thing is... only friendly, part of a promotion...! He is an entertainer...”His heart was pounding. Oh, how did he get himself into this? What if this well-respected man of wealth and fame’s reputation was ruined by this childish game he had signed himself up for? He should have never allowed his wait staff to talk him into such a thing!Still... He was a man of his word, if nothing else... 

Siebold’s chest swelled with tension as he came to meet Juan’s eyes, then carefully rocked forward with eyes shut with as much poise as he could, planted his lips upon his. Certainly, he couldn’t look at him doing such a strange, gut-wrenching thing with a man he so respected. Oh, he felt his stomach drop and his heart pound. 

“So... Ah-hem... Sorry, so sorry for such... a sudden gesture...!”

[poissonier-siebold-blog]

Fine Dining [Juan&Siebold]

The clock was ticking on this very prestigious (if not spontaneous) catering job that was dominating his thoughts for the past few days. There was so much preparation that needed to be taken into account, so many people he would be forced to rely on to allow it to happen as planned.

Master Juan, seemingly bemused with his scrambling about, would be of no help to his plight. Still, he had agreed to meet the man for lunch to discuss the menu items he'd like for his Hoenn ball. 

Although Siebold was well-versed in the type of ingredients commonly found in Unova, Hoenn was new and difficult. Hopefully with his seniority and culture, Juan would have some idea of where to find fresh produce and fish. Surely an island wouldn't be lacking in bounty of either.

Siebold had decided to invite Juan over to his loft home, which cozily was furnished for his own comfortable living and just about no one elses. It had one of everything – except for the kitchen and breakfast nook, which was fully furnished to seat at least five comfortably. It was a cottage-y decorum, high ceilings, with a modern spin with white walls and light hues of blue and eggshell.

They would be alone, with Juan his only visitor in several months. Thankfully, Siebold was rather cleanly and also rarely spent time at home in his own kitchen, so the place needed little cleaning for guests.

The doorbell chimed to let him know the guest had arrived. On the table, there were a few plates set out with ingredients and a description of possible cooking methods.   He beckons Juan in with a curt nod of his head, gesturing into his home. “Please, allow me to take your coat. The dining room is just to your right. Would you prefer a Cabaret or a Merlot?”