Work Text:
“Do you think we should add some more cakes with fruits? They seem to sell well lately and people have been asking,” Lev mumbles as he chews on the end of his pen, eyebrows furrowed. Hinata sits opposite of him, leaning over the list of sweet but guilty pleasures Lev has written down before filled French and Italian names of cakes Hinata can’t pronounce - but he can make them, that is for sure.
“Well, it’s summer, I think people eat lots of fruity and fresh cake in summer. Maybe something with lemon, too?” Hinata leans back into his chair and meets Lev’s eyes who nods slowly. They first met in high school but those days are long past, almost 10 years have passed ever since - yet Lev, oddly enough, still looks the same as back then, not a day older. Only perhaps three or four centimetres taller, much to Hinata’s dismay.
“Good idea. Do you have any ideas for what exactly? I thought maybe some sort of lemon or lime tart. Or what about cupcakes? They are light and easy to make, I am sure people would like those!” His eyes lighten up as he talks and Hinata is struck by his enthusiasm. They always end up firing each other up with ideas, staying up until midnight in the small bakery they own but none of them minds. In fact, it is probably the reason why the bakery turned out to be their best idea to date. Lately, it has gained a popularity none of them expected but both welcome it.
“Yeah, that’s great! I think we could make the dough with lemon zest and the icing with lime juice, how does that sound? I would also probably… hm. Perhaps a fluffy and light frosting wouldn’t be bad. You know, the type we used for the strawberry cupcakes last month.”
“Yes, except we’d have to watch how many we make per day because a lot of those had gone bad before they were eaten.” Lev wrinkles his nose and taps the tip of the pen on the list, leaving black dots over the entire sheet of paper. His eyes are focused on the small letters he has written on there previously, obviously pondering. “Oh,” he exclaims suddenly and looks up to Hinata again, “what if we make some sort of special limited offer? Let’s say we make 20 each day and if the demand is high, we can always do more?”
“Sounds good. Oh yeah, Lev, do you have any ideas for coffee and stuff? You used to be barista, you have more experience there than me with that. We probably should offer some cool drinks to go along with the cakes,” he says and Lev exhales, grimacing and leaning back while stretching his arms and legs. He brushes Hinata’s legs who flinches but reciprocates the touch. He rubs his leg against Lev’s and grins.
Lev smirks and leans onto Hinata’s forehead, pressing lightly though met with pleasant resistance by Hinata. “I think we should maybe offer some iced tea. Remember how you used edible flowers in spring to decorate those butterfly cakes? We could freeze edible flowers in ice cubes so it will look prettier,” he says as he rubs the tip of his nose against Hinata’s.
Lev is a romantic, Hinata has found out somewhen after they agreed to run a bakery together. Fresh flowers, bought by Lev every morning before the shop open, cover every corner, every table, even the counter. The furniture is white, delicate chairs in curlicues with matching tables, walls in a faint but warm apricot. “I like the idea. We should order some more of those flowers, I think our customers will totally love it,” Hinata breathes and a giggle escapes his mouth involuntarily. He is used to this by now, smiling and chuckling the entire time he spends with Lev. How couldn’t he?
For a little more than a year, this bakery exists; this open scenery of Lev’s heart, showing his innermost feelings and personality. For a little more than a year, Hinata has felt like flying, on Lev’s wings no less, carrying the same emotions as him. He would be lying if he said that this bakery hasn’t been his dream.
Hinata doesn’t quite remember everything from that night they celebrated his graduation from culinary school together - they were drunk and tired, humming the tune of Dancing Queen because they have forgotten the lines - but he recalls being the one to bring up the idea first. ‘Y’know, I always wanted to be a cake baker since I was young, with a shop and all’ was what he said and a morning later, Lev and him had started planning, thinking about where and how.
Lev had been the one financing it all and Hinata is still grateful to him to date; he would have never been able to fulfill his dream without Lev’s help. To think that Lev gave up on his job as a barista in a rather luxurious establishment, secure and well-paid, simply to open up a small shop that might have never succeeded makes Hinata’s stomach twist and turn. Back then, he didn’t see, he didn’t know of Lev’s feelings yet. In retrospect, he must have been blind.
“Hey Lev,” Hinata whispers and Lev is surprised at the low tone of his voice, resounding of the walls covered in small pictures drawn by an artist called Keiji Akaashi. He is a regular in the small café, often coming around in the evening to draw but almost always leaving his works behind. Hinata originally collected them to give them back to Akaashi who always refused. Ever since, both Hinata and Lev decided to hang them on the walls in small frames and ignore Akaashi’s self-deprecating comments about his sketches.
“Is this a secret?” Lev replies, whispering like Hinata with confusion in his eyes. Hinata can’t quite believe how pleasant things are when he is with Lev. He loves being happy and no one until now has managed to make him happier than Lev did. Not for what he has done but simply for existing. For having been born and existing. “I love secrets.”
It’s not much of a secret, Hinata thinks as he chuckles, curling his fingers around Lev’s, tip of his nose growing hot though he is not sure whether it is his own body heat rising or Lev’s seeping over. “I love you.”
The clock strikes midnight as they snicker, lips pressed against each other softly, sheet of paper crumbling underneath Lev’s weight. Work has been entirely forgotten and Hinata is sure, tomorrow will be another evening spent sitting at one of the tables in their café until midnight, eventually getting distracted by things like these. He couldn’t be happier about that prospect.