Of Love And Low-Fat Muffins

By Sinjah

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/127718.html)

It all started when the guy walked into Chris’s bakery.

It was a Saturday morning — Saturdays were always busy and exhausting, but Chris liked them because the customers were lazy and in a good mood, all about the fancy drinks and decadent sweets. Chris thought that life was good as long as you had some decadence in your food.

After Chris had spent five straight hours preparing cherry pie and molten chocolate cakes and obsessing over his bread crust, Nick had thrown him out of his own kitchen and ordered him to have some coffee and to stop driving her mad. Chris thought –yet again– that he should fire her, but then he would actually drive himself crazy from too much work, and also he could swear her scones were magic.

So there he was, behind the front counter, rearranging the cupcake display and watching Luke spoon Chris’s handmade whipped cream into a large mug with ridiculous precision, when Marie walked up to them, offered her tray for Luke to fill with his perfectly made drinks, and said, “Check out the new guy.”

They didn’t live in such small a town that one new customer warranted such a comment, but their bakery had its regulars, and a new face got unavoidable attention from both the staff and the other customers. And Marie thrived on news and rumors.

“You’re a gossip, Marie,” he said in as disapproving a tone as he could manage, but he leaned to the side nevertheless to see the new guy over Marie’s shoulder. Marie was watching him expectantly, and he could see why – the guy was pretty. Kind of really ridiculously pretty, with artfully tousled blond hair and a suggestive tilt to his mouth and indecently tight jeans. When the guy stretched, his jacket fell open and several inches of smooth skin were exposed when his shirt rode up. Chris gulped.

“Thought you might like him,” Marie smirked. “Isn’t he delicious?”

“You are a horrible person,” Chris informed her, ignoring Luke’s sudden coughing fit. “Go serve those chocolates before they go cold.”

“His name is Leon,” Marie said as she burst into the kitchen. “How adorable is that?”

Chris raised an eyebrow at her. “Who are you talking about?”

“The guy, that new guy from yesterday,” Marie said. “Please keep up.”

“Is that the same guy Chris keeps going on about, saying how hot he is?” Parker looked up from washing cups to ask.

“He is very hot.” Marie smirked.

“All right, I’m not paying you to gossip, back to work,” Chris shouted, and pointed a finger at Marie. “And you, stop flirting to get information out of the customers.”

“Jealous?” Marie asked, and escaped to the front before Chris could throw his whisk at her head.

A few days later, the guy showed up yet again, early and looking like he had spent the entire night out.

Nick had kicked Chris out of the kitchen again. She kept doing that on weekends, claimed ridiculous things, something about Chris getting unbearable when he had to make the extra large batches of bread.

So Chris was sulking behind the front counter and watching Leon and thus was in hearing range when Marie bounded over to Leon’s table. Leon demanded coffee with the desperation of the horribly hung-over. Marie asked him if he would like anything else.

And Leon said, “A low-fat muffin would be great.”

Chris’s head snapped up. Everyone in the shop froze. The silence was so thick Nick and Parker poked their heads out of the kitchen to see what was going on. Leon looked around in confusion.

“He didn’t mean it!” Marie exclaimed as Chris came around the counter and stalked towards them.

Chris stood over the guy and pointed a finger at him. “You do not,” he said emphatically, “ask for low-fat in a bakery. There is no low-fat in baking! There is certainly no anorexia allowed in my bakery. In fact, you‘re not allowed in my bakery unless you understand the value of baked goods made with real sugar!”

The guy blinked once, startled, then leaned back in his chair looking dazed. “Am I the only one who thought that was vaguely hot?”

Chris sputtered, various people around the store tittered, and Marie burst out laughing.

“I mean, sure, it was kind of freaky and ridiculous, but…” Leon trailed off, looking up at Chris and licking his lips instead of finishing and Marie patted him on the shoulder and nodded in agreement.

Christ stalked back to his kitchen, where he made three different batches of frosting and ignored Nick’s attempts to make him take a break for the rest of the day.

It figured, Chris thought. One could not be so good-looking without having internal issues of some sort. It figured that he would be the low-fat kind. It was just so unfair.

After that day, when Chris had yelled at him and then forbidden Marie from serving him, then had had another fit after Marie had cheerfully disobeyed, informing his employees that this was his bakery and things got done his way and he could fire them all, Chris was sure he would never see the guy’s cute but dieting ass ever again.

But Leon came back. He came back the next morning, and asked for a coffee and a whole-wheat roll.

“Don’t get mad,” Parker told Chris when he carried an armful of dirty mugs into the kitchen. “Your boyfriend is here.”

“He is not my boyfriend,” Chris yelled back. “I’d never date such a pretentious, shallow person.” Marie and Luke often told him that when he used his ‘indignant yell of denial’, as they called it, he could be heard all the way to the front of the store, that that was why the customers smirked knowingly at him all the time, but Chris didn’t believe them.

“Too bad. He’s so gorgeous,” Nick said, ignoring Chris’ condemnation of shallowness.

“Why don’t you all shut up?” Chris stormed out of the kitchen in search for Marie. She had just set a mug on the aforementioned shallow pretty boy’s table and was flirting shamelessly with him, the hussy. Marie would probably laugh at him if he used such an old-fashioned insult to her face, but Marie laughed at him most of the time anyway.

Chris narrowed his eyes, grabed a plate, and slid a slice of coffee cake on it, making sure to pick the kind with the extra thick streusel topping. He had baked it less than an hour ago. It was still warm, the cinnamon and brown sugar smell a pleasant tickle at his nose.

He stalked over to Leon’s table and put the plate down.

“Hello again,” Leon said with a smirk. Chris ground his teeth and pretended he was imagining the way Leon had spread his knees just a fraction, suggestive and restless.

“Eat that. You’re not leaving here unless you do,” Chris grumbled, and went back to his kitchen.

Leon refused to eat Chris’ cake.

And not only did he refuse to eat Chris’ cake–and his pies and his muffins–but he was snarky about it.

Chris hated him.

“It’s not fair,” Chris whined.

He was making frosting again, watching sulkily as his mixer beat together the softened cream cheese and icing sugar.

“What’s not fair?” Nick asked without even looking up from her lemon scones. She was stirring poppy seeds in the dough.

Him,” Chris said as he grabbed a jar of his homemade blueberry jam. “He’s all…” he waved a hand to illustrate his point.

“Hot?” Nick asked.

“No!” Chris sputtered. He added a couple spoonfuls of the jam into the frosting, watching it turn light purple. “Frustrating! Annoying!”

Nick arched an eyebrow. She always looked scary when she did that while wielding a big knife. Chris promptly ran out of steam. “Why did he have to be so pretty?” he moaned.

“He is pretty,” Nick sighed.

“Are you talking about me?”

Chris freezed and slowly, very slowly turned around. Leon was standing at the door, leaning –fucking leaning!– against the door frame and smirking and looking like a calendar model or several different kinds of sin.

“What are you doing here? This is my kitchen, you can’t be here,” Chris said emphatically.

“Marie said I could,” he answered and shrugged.

“Marie is fired,” Chris said loud enough to make Marie poke her head in and blow him a kiss.

“Is that frosting?” Leon asked. He had wandered over to the counter and was peering into the mixer’s can with a slightly insulted look. “With cream cheese?”

“And jam,” Nick added helpfully.

Leon pulled a face.

“Well, cream cheese and sugar and jam are pretty much all you will find in here, so why don’t you just go to the frozen yogurt parlor next door?” Chris huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “They have low-fat things there.”

“The frozen yogurt guy isn’t nearly as cute,” Leon said and winked.

Leon was saved by Marie, who came in the kitchen just in time to whisk him away before Chris did something stupid, like kill him–or kiss him.

“Why do you pretend he annoys you so much? Nick asked him several days later. Chris glanced at the door to make sure Leon was not around. Nick said he was getting paranoid, but in the past few days he had had to kick Leon out of his kitchen on four separate occasions.

“I’m not pretending,” Chris grumbled. He was whisking flour into a pot full of melted chocolate and butter. “He really does annoy me.”

“I thought you liked him,” Nick said.

“I think we’ve established that the man is good looking, and yes, my type of good looking,” Chris snapped at her. “That doesn’t make him any less annoying. He is obnoxious, full of himself, he comes in the kitchen uninvited and he doesn’t eat cream cheese.”

“Aren’t you overreacting a little bit?”

“No, no, I don’t think I am.” Chris bent down to get a large baking pan and started pouring his brownie batter into it.

“If you got to know him–” Nick begun, and Chris was certain she was going to start gushing over and praising Leon, like everyone had been doing since he had set foot in Chris’ bakery.

“Nick, he won’t eat my cakes,” Chris interrupted her, and he was pretty sure he didn’t sound as whiny as he thought he did. Then again, judging by Nick’s smirk, maybe he did.

Parker, who was listening to their conversation, sighed and shook his head. “Chris, only you would reject someone because they’re fit.”

“It’s a moral issue,” Chris insisted. “The chasm between us can’t be bridged.”

“Yes, I can see how it would be a problem in a real relationship,” Parker snorted. “You’d argue all the time about whether to feed your children vegetables or pie.”

Chris narrowed his eyes at him in a threatening manner, but didn’t throw his spatula at Parker. Parker might throw it back, and his aim was so much better than Chris’s.

Despite himself, Chris did get to know Leon, like Nick had suggested. Even if it was through second-hand sources.

It was just that everyone kept talking about him and how much they liked him, from Marie to Nick to Parker — and Parker didn’t like anyone. Luke was the only one who wasn’t crazy about the guy, but Chris knew it was only because he took Marie’s flirting-by-default with Leon too seriously.

Even his customers liked him. Every time Chris ventured out to the front — by choice, and not because Nick had kicked him out of the kitchen, thank you very much — everyone kept telling him how nice Leon was; Leon who had apparently learned all his regulars’ names and had become friendly with everyone. He helped the old ladies who came in with their bags to buy cookies for their grandchildren, he asked after kids, siblings and sick uncles, he went to ball games with college kids, and he gave advice to people with relationship problems.

And Chris kept hearing about these things he insisted he absolutely didn’t want to hear about, like that Leon was a radio producer on Station Five — and since that particular piece of information had gotten out everyone treated Leon like a celebrity, like Leon really needed more attention — or that he had a cat he called Leia –which Chris thought was absolutely ridiculous and not adorable as everyone else seemed to think– or that he liked strawberries and cycling –a topic Chris especially tried to avoid, as it usually made Marie start talking about Leon’s thighs, and Chris didn’t need any more excuses to think about Leon’s thighs.

It didn’t change anything, though. Chris absolutely didn’t like Leon. And Nick’s theory about his frosting-making being proportionate to his sexual frustration was just ridiculous.

“What are you making?” Leon asked. He wandered into the kitchen as if he owned the place, munching on another whole-wheat roll — it was pretty much the only thing Chris made that Leon deigned to eat.

Chris didn’t even bother yelling at him to get out anymore. At least Nick was out, so Chris didn’t have to bear with two frustrating people at the same time.

“Something highly caloric,” Chris answered and kept on whipping cream.

Leon leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and watch more closely. His jeans rode down and Chris absolutely did not look at the exposed golden skin of his lower back.

A ding came from the direction of the oven. “It’s apple pie,” Chris explained.

Leon followed when Chris wandered over to the oven that was as tall as he was, and watched as Chris put on his oven mitts and pulled out two large round pans of apple pie.

They both looked at the pies. Chris cleared his throat uncomfortably and asked, almost shy and hating himself for it, “Do you want a slice?”

He was expecting Leon to say no, the rant was on his tongue already, his lungs expanding with the breath needed to yell at Leon, but then Leon nodded. “Okay.”

Chris grabbed a knife and gently cut a slice, careful not to crumble the still-hot lattice top. He slid the slice on a plate, then looked at Leon and raised his eyebrow, challenging him to say something as he spooned some of the whipped cream he had just been making on top of the pie.

Leon laughed. “Just hand it over.”

He took the tiniest bite humanly possible at first, just to spite him, Chris was sure, and Chris growled at him. Leon laughed again, and this time, he took a real bite. His eyes fluttered shut as his lips closed around his fork, and when he looked up again and met Chris’ gaze, something suddenly shifted, and they were standing too close with only a plate of apple pie separating them and Leon had a bit of whipped cream on his upper lip that Chris wanted to lick.

“Hey, guys, you’re not killing each other, are you?” Marie’s timing was horrible as always, and Chris turned to glare at her.

She froze in the doorway and looked from Chris to Leon to the plate Leon was holding. “Leon, are you eating apple pie?” Chris could tell that she was barely holding back her laughter.

“Of course not,” said Leon and shoved the plate into Chris’ hands. “Gotta go now.”

Marie watched him leave. “That was so cute,” she told Chris, and he threw Leon’s half-eaten whole-wheat roll at her.

“Oh my God, I hate Saturdays,” Luke complained as he collapsed into a chair. “I don’t ever want to make another cappuccino in my whole life.”

“We will pretend that is true,” Marie said and motioned for Luke to lift his legs as she mopped under the chair he was sitting on. “Like we pretend Chris isn’t totally in love with Leon.”

Chris was too tired to even answer her. Nick and Parker were already gone, and all he really wanted was Marie to finish her mopping so he could close up and go home.

Like she was reading his mind, Marie said, “All done,” and went to put the mop and bucket away. “Just let me tidy up in the kitchen a bit.”

“No, it’s okay,” Chris said. “I’ll do it myself, you guys head home.”

Marie didn’t even argue. “Oh, thank God. Okay, Luke, you’re still driving me home, okay? Goodnight, Chris!” and she had grabbed her coat and dragged Luke halfway to the door before Chris could even blink. Luke turned to give him a what-will-we-do-with-her look before the door closed behind them, and Chris watched through the glass with a fond smile as Luke shyly wound Marie’s scarf around her neck.

He was putting away clean pans when someone knocked on the back door.

Chris frowned, wondering if Marie or Luke forgot something, but when he opened the door, it was Leon standing there on his steps.

“Hey,” Leon said. He was wearing his leather jacket and his tight jeans, and he was smiling so broadly that Chris didn’t even know how he was supposed to resist him.

“What are you doing here?” Chris asked, frowning as best as he could at the moment, which was not that good at all.

“Just got off work, thought I’d stop by to see if you needed a ride home or something,” Leon said and nudged his way in. He wandered over to the counter and peeked into a container of buttercream frosting Nick must had forgotten out of the fridge.

“I live two blocks away,” Chris informed him, and slapped Leon’s hands away from the container.

“I know,” Leon was smirking and his eyes were twinkling even in the near darkness of the kitchen. Chris gaped at him, realizing that Leon had probably planned this, waited around to get Chris alone, and he should probably think that was creepy, but it was just really, really hot. Leon casually pinned Chris against the counter. “Maybe I just wanted to do this.”

And his mouth was against Chris’s then, soft and warm and pretty much everything Chris wanted at that moment. Everything Chris had wanted for weeks now. Chris made a little sound and fisted his hands in Leon’s shirt. Leon kept licking at his lips until Chris opened up to him, let Leon’s tongue stroke against his own, rose on his toes a bit to bring them both to the same height so Leon’s tongue could delve deeper.

When they broke apart for air, Leon rested his forehead against Chris’s and panted into his mouth. He let out a little laugh. “How much sooner could we have been doing this if you hadn’t kept insisting you didn’t like me?”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t like you.”

“Chris, I don’t think you ever fooled anyone,” Leon told him.

Chris tried to argue, he did, but Leon’s eyes were on him, dark and intent and so blue, and oh God, there were fingers unbuckling his belt.

Leon’s hand snuck into his trousers, his fingers curled around his cock and squeezed, just once. “You kept looking at me,” Leon was whispering, and his lips were just barely brushing the shell of his ear, and Chris didn’t know how much more of this he could take. “Right there in the middle of your bakery, in front of everyone, and it drove me mad.”

“I did no such thing,” Chris grated out, and he didn’t even convince himself. Leon narrowed his eyes at him, and twisted his wrist in that amazing way that made Chris gasp. “Okay, maybe I did, but you kept asking for low-fat things,” Chris admitted, and he wanted to say that it was a deal-breaker, he wanted to explain how Leon’s refusal to indulge in delicious sweets kept them apart, because how would they have raised the children, but Leon’s thumb was moving in tiny circles right under the head of Chris’s cock and his mouth was hot on Chris’s neck, and it was robbing Chris of his ability to talk.

“You were so cute every time you yelled at me for not eating your cupcakes,” Leon snickered. Chris thought it was not a time to be snickering, seeing as how Leon’s fist was sliding up and down his cock, slow and a little bit dry but so, so good. “I bet you thought about me, touching you like this.”

“Just shut up.” Chris cut him off and tore at Leon’s fly.

Leon moaned and pushed against Chris’s hand, hard through his damp boxers. He shoved up Chris’s t-shirt. “Hold this,” he ordered and wrapped the fingers of Chris’s free hand around the hem of his own shirt, making him hold it up for Leon as Leon leaned in to flick his tongue over a nipple.

Chris tried to stay upright as Leon bit at his collarbone and tugged at his cock. All he could do was grind his palm harder against Leon’s cock and mouth at his neck.

Then he heard something clatter to the floor, and he lifted his head up just in time to see Leon dip two fingers into the container of frosting.

“No,” Chris said with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” Leon countered and before Chris could squirm away, he’d smeared the frosting all over Chris’ chest.

“I hate you.”

“I thought you wanted me to eat the fattening things you make,” Leon pointed out. Chris tried to pretend he was objecting some more, but then Leon’s tongue was on him, swirling through the frosting. Chris gasped as Leon’s lips found a nipple again, cried out a little when Leon bit down. Both of Leon’s hands were clutching at his hips, and Chris arched, trying to silently convince Leon it would be a good idea to get one of them back on his cock.

Then Leon dipped his hand back in the container, before dropping to his knees. He looked up at Chris through lowered lashes–and he must have been doing that on purpose, that look; that slow pass of his tongue over his lips. He got his mouth back on Chris, left a trail of wet kisses down his stomach. Chris flushed self-consciously about his not-so-flat belly, but Leon seemed not to mind because he kept rubbing his nose and his lips against it with a pleased hum.

Leon’s tongue delved into his belly button, and his hand closed around Chris’s cock again, smearing cool frosting and making Chris hiss.

“You are – ah – so cliché,” Chris panted when Leon pulled back to admire his handiwork. Chris blushed at the way his cock looked, flushed, with frosting slowly sliding down its length, the shiny tip leaking.

Leon smirked at him and dove in. He licked at Chris’ length until all the frosting was gone, and it was slow and torturous. Leon fastened his mouth around the head and sucked and tongued the slit, until Chris babbled incoherently and tugged at Leon’s hair, and then finally he went down, and down, one of his hands coming up to cradle Chris’ balls.

“Fuck,” Chris moaned as Leon’s tongue did a particularly nasty trick, fluttering against the underside of his cock in the most sinfully skilled way, and his knees gave out.

His cock was pulled out of Leon’s mouth with an obscene pop as Chris collapsed to the floor. They both look dazed and confused for a second, then Leon grabbed Chris behind his knees and pulled him forward so Chris was sprawled on the floor. He banged his head against the bottom of the counter on the way there, but Chris didn’t care because Leon was straddling one of his legs, pulling his pants down and fitting his mouth back around Chris’s cock.

Leon was breathing hard through his nose, and Chris could feel the tip of his cock bump against the back of Leon’s throat, could hear the filthy, slurping sounds of Leon’s mouth moving slickly up and down his cock.

“Leon, yes, ah, thought about this,” Chris whimpered, and he could’t stop talking. He had to talk or else he was going to explode.

Leon was making sounds around Chris’s cock, choked-off cries, and he was rubbing himself against Chris’s leg with frantic little thrusts of his hips.

“You were right, I thought about you, on your knees, thought about sucking you off. Thought about you bending me over the counter and fucking me, yes, Leon, so good.” Chris didn’t know if he was making any sense, his words came out slurred.

Then Leon pulled off with another one of those wet, pornographic sounds. “Chris, Chris, shit,” he groaned right against the head of Chris’s cock, and his hips shoved against Chris’ leg particularly hard, once, twice, three times as Leon’s whole frame shuddered.

“Did you just – ” Chris asked. Leon only moaned brokenly, and yes, he fucking did, and Chris wrapped his fingers around his own cock, and came himself after barely one thrust, all over his hand and Leon’s cheek.

They lay there panting on the tiles, until Leon managed to crawl up Chris’s chest to lick around and into his mouth, to kiss him lazily, and collapse all over Chris again.

“You just had to have sex with me in my kitchen, didn’t you?” Chris complained after a while and punched Leon lightly on the arm. Leon laughed and used Chris’ t-shirt to wipe the mess from his face in retaliation.

The next day, Nick walked into the kitchen to find Chris humming to himself and whisking something.

Nick peered into Chris’s bowl suspiciously. “Chris,” she asked. “Are you making low-fat muffins?”

Chris was in too good a mood to slap her for the way she widened her eyes and pretended to be checking him for fever. And later, when Parker came in and said, “Your boyfriend’s here,” Chris only smiled.

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