Sweet Christmas

11

Metawin Teepakorn is a changed man. You could look at his feline eyes, his regal nose, his bunny teeth, and his sculpted arms and think this handsome baker looked the same as he always did. Unreal and stunning but the same.

But looks can be deceiving.

Because the last two years has transformed Metawin.

The smile on his face is always genuine and heartfelt, no longer just a mask for others. His heart is no longer frozen and caged. And he can now admit that falling in love is not a curse.

In fact, as he looks through the small door that connected the counter to the kitchen and he sees the roaring brick oven, the stands filled with bread, and in the middle of it all an angel of a man with longish black hair tied in a bun, strong sinewy arms covered in flour - he understands love is a gift.

Bright looks up from the ball of dough he was rolling into strips. He sees Win and immediately his eyes sparkle and lips quirk upwards. "Hi."

"Hi," Win says, walking over to where Bright was working.

"Look at my dough," Bright says triumphantly. "I'm getting better at it."

"What are you making?"

"I was thinking of making the foccacia you taught me last week."

Win studies the dough now covered in olive oil.

"Did I impress you?," Bright asks, hanging a chin on Win's neck, keeping his doughy hands at bay.

"I think this will make a really delicious flat bread. Let's add some cheese."

"Wait. What? But it's foccacia..."

Win takes Bright's pouty face in his hands. "Babe, you forgot the yeast."

Bright's pout grows poutier. "But you love foccacia. I was trying to give you something you love."

Win kisses Bright's pout.
He kisses it once. He kisses it twice.
By the third, Bright was returning the kiss, valiantly keeping his hands away while Win's fingers were all over his hair, tugging as he did with his lips and teeth.

"See," said Win breathless. "You did give me something I love."

Bright laughs. "I should leave the baking to you and the making out to me."

"Are you saying that I suck at kissing?," Win demands stonily.

"Are you admitting I suck at baking?"

Win presses a reassuring kiss on Bright's cheek. "You just need more practice."

"Is it okay, if I practice kissing you first? I think I'm getting rusty at it."

Win laughs, cheeks crinkling and eyes disappearing. He circles Bright's waist in his arms and lets their mouths meet.

The flour and the salt in Bright's kisses make Win grin. How lucky he was to have a man who loved him so completely, who took the time to understand his passions. How lucky he was to have a man was gentle and sweet and supportive. How lucky he was to have someone who loved him so openly and so proudly.

Win deepens the kiss, Bright makes a sound half in pleasure half in protest because his floured hands were useless and he would very much want to be able to use them.

"Are you done making flat breads?," Win asks.

Bright nods, then kisses Win again.

Eyes half open, Win deftly covers the dough with a sheet of proofing cloth. Then takes Bright's hands in his and guides them around his waist.

"Flour. Oil," Bright warns.

"Sounds delicious," Win smiles as he pulls Bright's nape in, landing another kiss on his lips.

"God, I love you," Win says as he loses himself in Bright.

This was a thought he always had when Bright kissed him.  I love you. I love you. I love you.

And he has learned to say it and not just think it.

Those three words were like fuel to Bright's fire. Two years in and every day he still longed for Metawin. Two years in and he was still the best part of every day. Two years in and it was still magic. Win was and will forever be the magic.

Life will always have its ups and downs. Moments of boredom and sameness. Days where it's all work at the bakery for Win and all gigs and remote music producing for Bright. Days where one or both are hot headed or just tired.
Life moves the same for all of us. It is never perfect.

But with Win at Bright's side, life never needed to be perfect anyway. Because as long as they're together, life was meaningful. Life was worthwhile. Life became more than a journey, it became an adventure.

Bright and Win's kisses slowed. But Bright's arms remained around Win's waist. And Win's arms remained draped on Bright's shoulders.
They moved together, swaying slowly. As if they could hear music playing only for them. And in a way, it was - their hearts were playing a private beat.
One only they could hear.
One they would dance to for as long as they both shall live.
- - -

If you cannot handle sweetness, you should not come here. Not in this place filled to the brim with sugar and spice and everything nice.

The bakery isn't called Sweet Nothings for, well, nothing. This cozy corner located in St. Peregrine, was not only home to cronuts, macarons, french toast, and cake it was also the home of the sweetest love story.

And if you ever see the baker smile at man in table 28, I assure you, you will not find anything sweeter even if you tried.

Don't visit today though. They're closed today. The operations manager is currently stressing over the the 2 foot tall, vanilla and chantilly cream cake, covered in hand cut white chocolate snowflakes and real callalilies that he needs to deliver to a garden 10 kilometers away. He is not stressing because it's not done. He is not stressing because it's not perfect. He is stressing because his best friend and head pastry chef was still fussing over its details. Which wouldn't be a problem if this wasn't a wedding cake and he wasn't also the groom.
So unless you can help tear away the perfectionist chef groom from the cake, I suggest you visit some other time. And if you can, please call the other groom? Maybe he could whisk his beloved away. He is after all, the only person more important to Win than cake.

- end-

- - -

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed this story. Although not a Christmas song, I just wanted to capture the happiness in simplicity that I always feel when I hear the song Sweet Nothing.

I also liked imagining Bright and Win having a life that was soft and easy and unrushed.

Though this ends the story, was thinking of doing a special chapter maybe tomorrow.

Happy birthday to Bright!
And happy holidays to all of us.

- - -

Sweet Nothing by T Swift

'Cause they said the end is coming
Everyone's up to something
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving
You're in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"
To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it