FrUk Oneshots (Requests Open)

The Artists Proposal

Somewhere in Western France, there lived a couple in a cheap home that always needed attending to.
Inside the home lived an Artist and a Baker who did not make much money but made enough for the two of them and their cat Muffin.
The Baker, who goes by Oliver, is a plump man who always worries that he doesn’t look good enough. He is also a man who never saw anything his boyfriend made. The two had been together for over seven years, and only recently had purchased a house together not to far from the nearest small town.
It isn’t like he had never asked to see the works his boyfriend made, he did but Louis was always more than reluctant to show his boyfriend his work.

A few times the two went to art shows together and Louis’ work was always admired, but Oliver noticed how some of the works that went into the shed outside their home never came back out.
Eventually in the Winter when all was dead, and few people came to the bakery. Oliver got bored his curiosity needing to be filled with the knowledge that he had been seeking for quite some time. He began to plan out how to ge into the rickety, old wooden shed.
Of course Oliver had a key to the shed but Louis liked to be alone with his work and often reminded Oliver to not go into the workshop unless it was life threatening.

That same weekend Louis had to go out to buy more paint, and Oliver wanted to stay behind due to the misfortune of him catching a cold. Louis promised to not be long, and kissed his lover pale forehead before leaving.
As Oliver laid in bed the idea of the shed returned to him and he got up to put on his winter clothes, dragged a fleece blanket with him, and a key to the shed. The pink haired male then braced the cold, grey day as he made what seemed like an hour long walk to the wooden shed.

He struggled with the key for a few moments his hand shaking violently but then succeeded.
At first the freckled male hesitated but then the wind blew the door open for him, and he went in, shutting the door behind him.
Natural light from the high windows lit up the silent room. Around the room there were small photographs of Louis with his siblings, birds, plants, and some of Louis and him. A large wooden desk was a few feet to his right with a few blank canvases, and some that were dry and finished. To a few paces to his left there were slots where pictures were placed when they were drying, but the sick man didn’t move to either of them. He stood where he was looking at the picture in front of him. There was a large plastic tarp in the middle of the room with a small photo beside a wooden asiel. Oliver recognized the picture that had now been painted on the asiel in front of him.

It was almost eight years ago when Louis had asked Oliver to walk around the nearest park with him. Louis had brought his camera snapping picture of everything. Even of Oliver when he began laughing at a joke Louis had said (that was what the photo was in the middle of the room). The pink haired man had no idea that Louis was going to ask him out. He very memory brought chills down his spine, and a smile danced on his lips.
He noticed there was something gold at the left corner of the photo. Oliver carefully got closer and read the gold letters on the unfinished painting on the canvas.
“To the one who made me feel everything I didn’t want to. Stay with me forever?”
Oliver gasped, putting a hand over his mouth and felt tears at the corner of his eyes. Was this a proposal? Oh Shit Louis had probably been planning this for a while. He should’ve stayed away, he should’ve stayed in bed and now he’s ruined everything.
Oliver felt guilt wash over him as he carefully moved away from the painting, he then went out the door locking it behind him. He began the walk back when he heard a voice behind him that made him freeze in place.

“So what’s your answer?”

Oliver turned around to he his boyfriend holding a can of a medium shade of green paint, leaning against the left side of the shed.

Oliver felt his sore throat tighten up, and he felt as if all of the air had left his body. He looked at his boyfriend with wide eyes. He was confused. Why wasn’t Louis mad at him?
“You read the words on the painting right?”
Oliver nodded “But aren’t you mad at me?”
Louis shook his head “I knew you’d want to get in there sometime and I’ve been meaning to ask for a few months, but I thought I had another month before you’d go in.”
Oliver ran for his lover and leaped into his arms, causing the Frenchman to drop the paint can in the fluffy snow.
Oliver buried his head into Louis collarbone happily chanting “Yes!”
At first Louis was shocked but then it wavered into his consciousness coming back to return his lovers hug.