Sweet Christmas

5

The cookies were frosted. The macarons were assembled. The buns were rising as they should in the oven, the smell of butter and cinnamon wafting through the air.

The Christmas lights were all turned on, the decor was gleaming,  and the store was filled with the mellow sounds of  Michael Buble Christmas covers.

Gun surveys all of this from the doorway of Sweet Nothings, mouth hanging open. What in the ever loving universe was happening? Did he accidentally open a wormhole to Santa's workshop?

Then he sees Win, humming as he carried a whole tray dough balls to the counter. There was a permanent smile on his mouth, his eyes almost as sparkly as the tinsel around them.

Gun smiles to himself, watching his friend move with a skip in his step. This was new. The last time he saw Win look so carefree was before he met his ex - that sniveling douchebag. He had to watch Win's warmth and joy get chipped away with every month he was with that asshole. Some of Win's happiness returned when Sweet Nothings opened but it wasn't the same. Like a light got shut off inside Win and no one knew how to turn it back on.

A tap on his shoulder. Gun turns around to see the sheepish smile of a customer he met the day before.

"You're back," Gun says.

"Your coffee is addictive."

"Sure, the coffee."

"Are you open?"

"What was your name again?"

The man offers his hand. "I'm Bright. Nice to formally meet you."

Gun shakes his hand. "Hmm, interesting name." he thinks. "Perhaps it won't be dark for long."

- - -

Gun couldn't get rid of Win so easily today. Not only was his friend being stubborn, there was also so many orders today it would be nuts to kick out the head pastry chef.

But Gun wasn't as worried about his friend today, he obviously has had some rest and has eaten more than nibbles of his own baked goods. Besides, he was pretty sure that Win's insistence to stay and work had less to do about store operations and more to do with the man strumming his guitar at table 28.

"If you keep looking at him, he might melt," Gun says as he passes Win on the way to the espresso machine.

"What are you talking about?"

"The man you keep looking at."

"It's not what you think," Win laughs, waving Gun away. But his cheeks heat nonetheless.

"It really looks exactly like what I think."

Win fills in Gun on Bright's mission to ask his crush out on a date. "I'm just being nosy, I want to find out who the lucky guy is."

Gun looks at Win weirdly. "The lucky guy?"

"Yeah. He says he's a regular here and they've talked. But I can't seem to catch him in action. Work is getting in the way of piping hot tea."

Gun continues to look at Win like he grew a third head. "That gorgeous man comes here every day at the crack of dawn-"

"Seven am is hardly-"

"The crack of dawn, helps around, stays the whole day, has driven you home on several occasions and you have no idea who his crush is. Like not one clue?"

Win takes a moment, slowly stirring the berry compote he was making for several waffle orders. "I had a couple of candidates before but Bright didn't seem to even recognize who they were when I described them. He said they've talked so I've been trying to spy on who he talks to but whenever I get the chance to sneak a look he's alone at his table." Win sighs as he takes a taste of the compote with a teaspoon. He turns off the heat and gives a taste to Gun. They both nod their heads at the taste. Win sighs again. "I'm a horrible detective, right?"