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Yancy spots the tourist group long before they stop by his café.
Of course he does; Americans are, for the most part, loud, boisterous and often don't consider that the locals speak more than one language.
"Hey, uh, guys? This one looks like there's.... Oh nevermind, I'll do it myself." The exasperated tone has Yancy curious. "Hello? Umm, «puis-je entrer*?»
«Bien sûr, vous pouvez entrer.» Yancy replies as he steps out of the small back kitchen. The person who shuffles into his café is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful men Yancy's ever seen.
«Parlez-vous anglais? J'ai vu le signe.» Oh but this person is trying so hard to be polite.
Yancy smiles brightly and answers in English just to reassure. "I do, but only for people who notice that the sign is in more than one language. I'm Yancy Becket. I run this little place. Are you hungry or just looking for a spot to rest your feet?"
"Thank goodness. Tendo Choi. I think it's a little bit of both?" They shake hands and Yancy notices the calluses, the eyes the color of his Mémé's rich garden soil and the brightest smile he's seen in days. Choi's warm gaze sweeps over the drying herbs and forgets that he's holding Yancy's hand long enough for Yancy to clear his throat. "Oh! Sorry."
"You're fine." Yancy waves it off with a laugh as he leans on the counter. "So, latte, cappuccino...?"
"A latte please. And the café special if you've got one?" Choi also leans forward and Yancy's heart flutters. Oh boy.
"Our sandwiches are pretty good. I make 'em myself." Yancy murmurs as he leans back and turns on his coffee maker.
"You're a local, right?" Choi asks as he fiddles with a burgundy bar napkin.
"Mm hmm," He answers as he finishes up a simple sandwich. "You have any allergies? Lactose-intolerant?"
"None of the above, Mr. Becket."
"Yancy, please. Mr. Becket is my Father." He insists as he hands over the sandwich and the latte.
"That's really nice. How much—"
"Nothing. On the house." Yancy shakes his head as Choi reaches for his wallet.
"But—"
"I guess you didn't read the rest of the sign," He wryly points out. "Last line says that if you make the effort to be polite and attempt French, your meal's on me."
"That's certainly a unique policy." Choi hums before he tries the latte. The happy moan he makes has Yancy turning around to hide his sudden blush. "Wow. How on earth did you make the best coffee I've ever tasted?"
"N-Nothing unusual. Just a pinch of salt and cinnamon in the grounds before I make it." Yancy almost hides behind the comfort of French but refrains.
"Did I... Oops." Choi starts before he makes a noise of understanding. "I'm sorry. My friends all tell me I make a sexy moan when I have good food or coffee."
"You're fine," Yancy grins as he turns back around, giving Choi a saucy wink, "so long as you don't mind me blushing, Mr. Choi."
"Tendo, please. Hey, you have anything else going on today?" The rich gaze crinkles at the corners as Tendo flashes a smile.
"That depends on your next question." Yancy replies as he pillows his chin on both palms as his elbows support his weight.
"You wanna show me around your city?" Tendo asks as he folds the small napkin into a small animal.
"I'd love to."