Chapter Text
The ever-desired title of ‘Most Beautiful Girl’ has long been debated between common men and scholars. The most beautiful boy, however, has been swept under the rug by aforementioned girls. There is a long list of the most beautiful boys, but the only ones who are given any recognition by history are the ones that remain at the top of the list for more than a minute.
Until David was five, boys weren’t beautiful. They were handsome. When David was five, the most beautiful boy in the world was a man named Thomas. Thomas had perfect bone structure and would have been very handsome, but his eyes were soft and tender and the color of emeralds. They sparkled when he laughed, and oh, how he loved to laugh. Eventually, though, he stopped laughing. His eyes grew tired and dull and he became engrossed in a certain kind of depressing literature that left his eyes dry and weary by the time he finished a novel. With the loss of the beauty of his eyes, he became handsome. No one really suffered any kind of loss from this, because Thomas stayed relatively happy until the day he died.
When David was ten, the most beautiful boy in the world was Atticus, who wasn’t particularly handsome. He had the largest heart of anyone alive at that point, which is probably why it was so coveted. He wasn’t widely adored. He was wanted in eleven nations because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and people assumed he had been part of a robbery he knew nothing about. Sadly, that is why he only lasted two years as the most beautiful boy. His bad luck finally caught up with him and he was killed by a bounty hunter from one of the nations he was wanted in.
When David was fifteen, he himself was slowly crawling up the list. The most beautiful boy at that time was Maximillian. Max, as he called himself, was undoubtedly gorgeous in every aspect of the word, but only if he never opened his mouth. He was so widely loved that the state, because of letters that just kept coming , had to hold a meeting to debate if what the people wanted was even possible. That meeting fell apart in minutes because they all began fawning over how beautiful he was. He became a prince due to this accidental unanimous vote, and, as is stated in the duties of a prince, had to make a public decree. At this public decree, Max revealed himself as the arrogant racist that he really was, and his spot on the list plummeted hundreds of places.
David, of course, knew none of this.
When David was seventeen, he barely made the top twenty. He was a beautiful boy, there was no doubt about that. He just wasn’t the most beautiful, whatever his parents told him. David loved that about them, but he also hated it. They were very loving and they cared about their children very much. His mother, Esther, still treated the three of them like babies. She believed if she refused to let them grow up, they would stay young forever. This, of course, was just foolishness.
The oldest child, a beautiful young woman named Sarah, was nineteen and had already gone out into the world to tour a few dozen countries. She had been traveling for several years now but was due to return very soon, and the small house was in a state. David’s younger brother, Leslie, (though he hated the name and had dubbed himself Les at a young age) was ten years old and refused to do work around the house and instead chose to help the farm boy with the chores in the fields. The house became David and his mother’s responsibility. His father, Mayer, would try to help as much as possible, but with his broken leg, it was hard for him to get around without knocking things over.
Les was the most work. He never remembered to take his shoes off in the house and tracked mud everywhere. He was somehow always filthy and had to be constantly reminded of house manners. David blamed this fully on the farm boy. As much as he helped out, he was a bit of a nuisance. He only ever said three words to David: “As you wish.” At first, this had angered David. What kind of boy only said three words? He didn’t mind as much now, seeing as he never had to keep up a conversation with the boy. The farm boy did everything he was asked. When the girls from the town showed up below David’s window, singing praises and telling him that they were in love with him, the farm boy would shoo them away without a word. David would, of course, thank him for this, to which he’d respond “as you wish.”
The day Sarah returned was a busy one. A carriage pulled up to the house at seven in the morning and Sarah stepped out, carrying her many bags. Her head was held high and she walked like she owned the whole world. Esther and Mayer immediately started fawning over her, asking her where she’d been and how all the countries were and how beautiful she looked and how lucky her husband would be to have such an independent woman as a wife. When she finally broke out of the thousand hugs and kisses from her parents, she set down her bags and announced that she had presents for all of them. Les cheered, bouncing up and down as she pulled out toy after toy and handed them to him. He ran off towards his room with all his toys, laughing and jumping around. Sarah pulled out a few books she had gotten from different countries and handed them to David. The biggest book was a copy of War and Peace from Russia, but David’s favorite of them was a small, very worn copy of Twelfth Night. Sarah had told him very quietly that it was one of the first copies ever printed. He tackled her with a hug, eyes glistening. The presents for Esther and Mayer included a shiny new tea set from France and a new watch from Belgium. Just as they were saying their thank-yous, Les came running into the room, tripping over his own feet.
“Go look out the window!”
They all turned and stared out the window. Before their eyes was a large parade of some sort, with carriage after carriage, all incredibly expensive looking.
“Was there something happening today? Did we miss a proclamation?” Esther asked, quite confused. The most confusing part was yet to happen, though.
“Look!” Les exclaimed, pointing towards the head of the parade. “They’re stopping at our gate!”
“Did you forget to pay your taxes, Dad?” Sarah asked, only half joking.
“I didn’t forget to do anything. And even if I did, they wouldn’t need all this!” he said, gesturing to the carriages lining the street. Esther tapped his arm.
“Should we… go see what they want?” she asked. Mayer nodded. He smoothed his shirt as best as he could and followed Esther out the door. Sarah, David, and Les followed too.
As the five of them neared the gate, a woman stepped out of the first carriage. She was very dressed up and her skirt nearly reached the muddy ground. Her heels had already sunk into the dirt and were presently filthy. David vaguely recognized her, but couldn’t place her name.
“Good afternoon,” the woman stated.
“Good afternoon,” Mayer replied, though it seemed much more like he was asking if it was, in fact, a good afternoon. “Can we help you?”
“I’m here about your flowers.”
Esther and Mayer glanced at each other.
“I’m sorry, our flowers?” Esther asked.
“Yes, your flowers,” the woman said. “You see, my husband was thinking of starting his own little wildflower farm and since your fields are the most beautiful for miles, I was wondering what you do to them to make them bloom so brightly. What’s your secret?”
“Our secret?” they asked.
“They don’t really have much to do with the flowers,” Les piped in. David flicked his head. “Ma’am. It’s me and the farm boy who work in the fields.”
“And where is this farm boy?”
“I’ll get him, ma’am!” Les shouted, already running to the small shack behind the house where the boy resided. The four Jacobs’ and the woman from the carriage stood staring at each other in awkward silence. Sarah turned just as Les came running back into view with the farm boy in tow. She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape.
“ That’s the farm boy?” she whispered to David. He nodded. “He’s… bigger than I remember.”
David rolled his eyes. Girls .
The woman from the carriage crossed her arms. “Well, what’s your name?”
“Francis, ma’am.” the boy answered.
“Well, Francis, I’d like to know what you’re doing to those flowers so they’re blooming so beautifully.”
He snorted a little, looking around nervously, before looking back at the woman. “Oh, you’re serious. Um, okay. I just water them, I guess.”
The woman smiled. “Could you show me?”
Francis raised an eyebrow. “You want me to… water the flowers?”
She nodded. He shrugged and started to walk towards the field. The woman followed closely at his heels.
“I’ll come with you!” Sarah shouted a little too loudly. She blushed, then quickly ran off to join the farm boy and the woman from the carriage.
“I’ll come too!” Les called, running to catch up to the small parade of bodies. David rolled his eyes and followed the rest of them. The woman (whose name was still unknown) turned to look at David and grinned, trailing behind to walk behind him. Esther and Mayer shrugged, then followed the others, watching the woman from the carriage, who was watching their eldest son, who was watching Sarah.
Who was watching Francis.
Later that evening, after the woman had left with the rest of the parade, all of the Jacobs’ unanimously agreed that this had been the most interesting day at the farm for many, many years, and probably would be the most interesting day for many, many years to come. At dinner, however, David wouldn’t stop complaining about how interested the woman had been in what the farm boy had done.
“Why did she find it so special? He just watered them. And it’s not like we haven’t ever watered them. Before he came we watered them and they were just fine.” he said, his voice wavering. His mother sighed.
“Maybe they just like him better, David.”
“Plants aren’t sentient, Mother, they can’t like or dislike.”
This earned him a glare from his father.
“David, can you bring Francis his food?” Esther asked, handing David a full plate. He rolled his eyes but stood and made his way over to the back door. He stepped out, coming face to face with Francis. Their eyes met, and David felt his cheeks go warm. He shoved the plate at the boy, who took it graciously and began to walk away. David called after him.
Farm boy,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “Wash my horse. Until she sparkles, if you please.”
Francis smiled. “As you wish.”
David turned and stomped back into the house. He walked back to the dining room quickly, taking his seat and staring at his plate.
“Are you alright, dear?” Esther asked.
“You look flushed, David. Are you sick?” Sarah asked, concern lacing her voice.
“I’m just a little overtired, that’s all.” he retorted.
“Son, you should get to bed. Nothing good ever came to anyone who was overtired.” Mayer said. David paused, then nodded. He stood, a little too quickly and practically bolted up the steps to his room. He shut the door, breathing heavily against the wood.
He stared at himself in his mirror, watching his eyes dart from one to the other. His head and heart were pounding, and his cheeks were still dusted pink. He turned towards the bed and flopped down onto the blankets, face first, and closed his eyes.
Sarah was looking at Francis.
David got up from the bed. He took off his clothes, put on his pajamas, and lay back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Sarah was still looking at Francis.
David abruptly stood, splashed some water in his face, got back into his bed, and pulled the blankets all the way up to his chin.
Sarah wouldn’t stop looking at Francis.
David frowned and sat up. He swallowed, staring at the wall. Why had she been looking at him? The farm boy had eyes like the waves against the beach, but who cared about eyes? He had dark brown hair, if you liked that sort of thing. He had only been watering the flowers, his muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin the way they always did. But who wouldn’t be muscular slaving all day? Because that’s what he did. Slave away all day. And sure, his skin was perfect and tan, but that was from working in the sun every day.
And now Francis was looking back at Sarah .
David sat up, threw off his covers, and barely refrained from screaming. Francis was looking back at Sarah like the boys in town looked at the girls. Like he wanted something from her.
See, David had never been jealous before. He had no reason to be; girls flocked to him. Even if they hadn’t, he wasn’t interested in them. He’d never been jealous of Les or Sarah; all the children were treated equally. This was the first time he’d ever been jealous, and it was one of the worst cases in all of history.
He paced around the room, nearly tearing out his hair in an effort to calm himself. This continued far into the night before David finally came to a realization. He turned on his heel, ripped open the door, and marched down to the small shack behind the house.
Standing in front of that door, praying that the boy would open the door, David was the most scared he’d ever been in his life. He heard a body moving around inside the shack and took a shaky breath in. The farm boy opened the door and David immediately began his ramblings.
“Hello. I’m sure you’re surprised to see me at this moment since I have never actively sought you out at an ungodly hour like this but I have something very important to say. I love you. I have loved you for several hours now. I never knew I could love someone as much as I love you and I love you more every second, Francis. I’ve never called you that, have I? Francis, Francis, Francis. You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, did you know that? They’re like the waves against the beach on a sunny day. There’s a whole world in your eyes. How long have I been here? Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I do, Francis. I really really love you. I’m sure that no one has ever loved anyone the way I love you. This is odd, isn’t it? Me, standing here, telling you how much I love you after not speaking more than a sentence or two to you before now. I’m fairly certain that this is as odd for me as it is for you. Wait, you haven’t said anything yet. Or tried to. Am I talking too fast? Can you even understand me? I feel a little silly, asking you if I’m talking too fast because I know I am. I still love you. I love you more now than I did when you first opened the door. I love you more now than I did a second ago. Please say something, for the love of God, before I talk my own tongue off.”
And the rambling stopped as suddenly as it had started.
Francis did nothing. He stood in the doorway, staring into David’s eyes and David thought that this was the only thing he wanted to see for the rest of his life. Then, Francis did something that no one, not even David, had expected him to do.
Without one word, he shut the door in David’s face.
David stood there, breathing heavily. His eyes stung and he unsuccessfully tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat. He walked slowly back to the house as if he was in a trance. He quietly opened the back door and slipped through, a single tear clinging to his cheek. He refused to cry. He would not cry. As he made his way to his room, another tear slipped down his face and held onto his chin for a moment before crashing to the floor beneath him. He shut his bedroom door, stumbled to his bed, and collapsed onto it, tears now freely falling onto his pillows. Francis hadn’t even said one word. Couldn’t he have said something like “Sorry! Too late!” instead of ignoring him? No, he hadn’t said anything because… well, what would he have said? He would’ve responded with the only thing he’d ever said to David; “As you wish.” And then he would’ve said something stupid, like “Duh, tanks, David!” and left it at that. David laughed lightly and wiped his eyes. He took a breath and smiled. That was that and now it was over. It was a sudden crush and crushes fade. David thought about this for a minute, then immediately started crying again. After all, there was only a certain level he could lie to himself. Francis wasn’t stupid. He was really quite smart. He was kind and sensitive and genuine and David loved him with all his heart. Francis didn’t love him back, and that was that. He buried himself under his blankets and breathed deeply until the tears slowed, then stopped. He let his heavy eyelids slip shut, and was sleeping within minutes.
A few hours later, there was a knock on David’s door. He rolled over and groaned. “Who is it?”
“It’s Francis.”
David’s heart leapt out of his chest. He cleared his throat and rolled out of bed. Rubbing the sleep out his eyes, he opened the door and saw Francis standing there with a rucksack over his shoulder.
“Hello, Francis. I feel awfully bad about that little prank I played on you last night,” David said. “I thought you might’ve taken it seriously-”
“I’m leaving.”
David coughed. “What?”
“I’m leaving for Santa Fe to seek my fortune.”
“Is it because of what I said?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” David sighed, biting back the lump in his throat. “Well, I hope she can live with a stupid farm boy who isn’t even handsome. She’ll get tired of you eventually, and then you’ll be stuck at home while she travels the world, using up your fortune-”
“David! Stop talking about Sarah!”
David stopped.
“The only thing you’ve ever heard me say to you is ‘as you wish’, right?”
David nodded slowly.
“I’ve said so much more to you. You’ve never heard it. Every time I’ve said ‘as you wish’ I’ve been saying ‘I love you’.”
David felt his stomach drop, then do a triple backflip and stick the landing. His heart beat faster than it ever had before.
“If your love is a grain of sand, my love is a universe of beaches. If your love is a blade of grass, my love is a thousand fields.”
“I don’t understand,” David whispered.
“I love you. Do you need it spelled out for you? I’ll do that too. Eye-el-oh-vee-ee-why-oh-you . Must I go on?”
“Never stop.”
“I love you more than all the letters in all the words in all the newspapers in all the world.”
David looked slightly confused at this. Today's paper didn't say much, as did many others. Nothing particularly exciting had happened at this point in history.
“Just today’s paper?” he replied.
Francis smiled and shook his head. “Every paper there’s ever been.”
“If you’re pranking me, Francis, I’ll kill you myself.”
“I swear I’m not, Dave. I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.”
David stared at Francis, his mouth slightly open. He reached out, gently taking the other boy’s hand. “I love you too,” he said quietly. Francis looked down at their hands, then looked back up. It seemed as if he was looking directly into David’s soul.
“I have to go, Davey,” he said sadly. David’s heart sank. Neither of the two spoke for a few moments. Then David, slowly and sadly, uttered three words.
“Without one kiss?”
Francis turned back to David. Their eyes met again and for a split second, the world seemed to hover on the edge of destruction. And then they fell into each other.
David didn’t know what constituted as a ‘good kiss’, having never kissed anyone before, but he was sure this was it. David was gripping Francis’s shirt, and Francis’s hands were on David’s hips, holding him in place. Francis’s lips were slightly chapped and he was doing things with his mouth that sent chills down David’s spine. David believed firmly that if the world ended right now, he’d be perfectly content dying like this, with this beautiful boy kissing him senseless. They separated slowly, staring at each other as if that could change the fact that Francis was leaving. Francis was still holding David close.
“I’ll send for you.”
“I’ll wait. For you, I mean.”
“The longer I stand here, the more I fall in love with you,” Francis whispered, resting his forehead on David’s. “If I stay any longer, I’ll never leave.”
“I love you more now than I did hours ago.”
David released Francis’s shirt and Francis let go of David’s hips.
“I’ll send for you.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
And with that, he left David standing there, whose mind was both calm and racing at the same time. Francis blew him a kiss and left the house.
(He would never return.)
The day Francis left, David never stopped thinking about him once. This came with bad thoughts, though, like what if he finds a nicer and prettier girl in Santa Fe and he forgets about me ? Because of the sheer amount of these thoughts, he went to his older sister for advice.
“How can I make myself more attractive?” he asked her.
“Well for starters, a bath wouldn’t hurt. And get better clothes. And wash your hair,” she replied, not even glancing up from her book. And that is precisely what David did.
Without Francis, the farm grew to be a much bigger hassle. David had to help a lot more in the fields and he had to deliver bouquets and flower orders to the rest of the town, so by the time he was able to sit down and start his self-improvement, it was well into the afternoon. He took a bath and scrubbed every inch of his skin every day until it practically shined. He washed his hair and combed it every day, which was a bit exhausting, but that was the price of beauty. By this time, David had jumped from twentieth most beautiful boy to the fifteenth, a change nearly unheard of in those times. He went shopping with Sarah once or twice, picking out clothes that complimented his eyes and skin. By the end, he had almost an entirely blue wardrobe, which he blamed on Sarah. He secretly loved every shirt he’d bought. How surprised will Francis be when I see him next, David would think, as Francis had never seen him remotely clean.
Francis wrote to David often. He’d send a new letter almost every week about where he was and how his trip had been and how much he loved David. By just reading these letters, David skyrocketed from fifteenth to tenth. The residents of the town noticed this. Some would talk to him, ask him how he was, but some others could only stare, awestruck. When people would ask him if he’d gotten a letter from Francis, he’d beam and nod and start to talk about how lovely and perfect he was. By just talking about him, David slowly went from tenth to seventh. Then the letters stopped. David convinced himself it was nothing, that the train just hadn’t stopped for a while.
One day, after getting home from deliveries, David entered the kitchen only to find his parents and siblings at the table. Esther looked up and motioned for David to join them. They explained that they had received a letter concerning Francis.
“In the dead of night. Without warning.” Esther began.
“On the train.” Mayer continued.
“The Dread Train Robber Kelly.”
Sarah gasped. Les looked as if he could burst into tears at any moment. “The one who leaves no survivors?” he whispered. Mayer nodded.
David stood. “Excuse me,” he said. Then he ran out of the room and locked himself in his bedroom.
He didn’t leave his room for a very long time. His parents pushed food under the door. He only ate enough to stay alive. The family started to avoid the door because it only reminded them of the farm boy. David spent his days staring longingly out the window and watching the world pass him by.
When he finally emerged from his room, he looked only slightly worse. He was still beautiful, but in a different way. He looked skinnier and sadder, but still the lovely young man he’d been.
When asked how he was feeling, he said only these words:
“I will never love again.”
And he never did.
David Jacobs was seventeen years old, the seventh most beautiful boy in the world, and had known worlds of heartbreak.