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Chapter Text

Silver & Sunshine Bakery was only two blocks over from where Moonbeams Bakery was going to open in two weeks, and Bin hadn’t stopped hearing about it since he’d dared to poke his head out of the front of his still-anonymous shop for a breath of fresh air.

Word on the street was that Silver & Sunshine had the best pastries in a five-kilometer radius, and every person Bin passed, from housewife to school girl to university student, gushed about how wonderful a bakery it was.

So Bin had to go find out. He, Minhyuk, and Sanha were excellent bakers in their own right, had trained at the same culinary arts school together and worked in the restaurant of a very fancy hotel before Bin had won a baking contest and they’d had enough money to open a place of their own. They were taking a big risk, financially and personally, to finally open the bakery of their dreams (Minhyuk was still a little sulky that they hadn’t named their bakery Moonlight Dreams, but Sanha had sided with Bin, that a simpler, cozier name was needed for their homey little kitchen that they’d be sharing with the public).

If Bin and the others were going to risk themselves like this, they had to know about the competition.

Based on what Bin had been able to glean on his short walk from the future location of Moonbeams to Silver & Sunshine, the pastries were to die for, the macarons were works of art, and the chef was a genius.

“He trained in France, you know,” one woman remarked to another, the two of them pushing strollers with tots down the street going opposite Bin.

One of the tots was nibbling on a macaron that was shaped like a teddy bear. It was, Bin had to admit, pretty cute.

He wasn’t afraid of some fancy foreign-trained chef, though. 

He paused at the threshold of Silver & Sunshine and looked up at the sign above the bright yellow-and-white striped awning. The name of the bakery was in fancy English script that Bin could barely read, as well as in hangeul. The sign had fancy silver swirls under the name, and this was definitely one of those high-end bakeries that probably catered celebrity and political events.

Although the little silver turtle in the corner of the sign, the one with a sun-ray halo, was a little cartoon-y and cute.

Bin took a deep breath and pushed open the door — and was immediately greeted by the wonderful scent of baking pastries and the faintest hint of caramelizing sugar.

He scanned the cases and saw they were full of fancy cakes, Napoleons, cannolis, delicate little tarts, a rainbow array of macarons decorated to look like bears and kittens and puppies and turtles and sunshines and flowers, cake pops on sticks, and homemade chocolate truffles and squares of fudge. For savory options, there were brioche rolls stuffed with feta and prosciutto and herbs, baguettes, and croissants.

Everything was arranged on gleaming silver trays with paper doilies, and Bin could feel how expensive it all was.

“Welcome to Silver & Sunshine. How may I help you?” a man asked.

Bin looked up — and promptly forgot how to think.

The man standing on the other side of the counter was, in a word, beautiful. He had pale skin and perfect features and soft-looking straight black hair, and his eyes were crinkled up into half-moons when he smiled, and his lips looked perfectly soft and pink and kissable, and —

“Ah, hello,” Bin said. “Um. Can I have one of — those?” He pointed to a Napoleon and, because his brain still wasn’t working while he gaped at the ethereal man in a pristine chef’s jacket, he utterly botched the pronunciation of the pastry.

“Ah, a Napoleon. A fine choice,” the man said. He pronounced it the French way. Was he the one who’d trained in France, or had he learned it from his coworker?

His nametag read Chef Lee Dongmin. Was he the head chef? His tag didn’t say he was the sous-chef.

“Anything else?” Dongmin picked up a pair of delicate silver tongs and selected a single, perfectly-formed Napoleon off the tray, put it into a glossy white cardboard box with the bakery’s name and logo printed on the top, and then carried it over to the counter.

“No,” Bin said, still feeling dazed.

Distantly, he knew that this man was the reason everyone in the neighborhood adored this bakery. The quality of the pastries was irrelevant if people could come in here every day and see the man’s face.

Dongmin rang Bin up. Bin handed over his debit card, and he realized he was staring at Dongmin past the point of politeness.

To avoid further eye contact, Bin accepted the box and tucked away his card, and then he popped open the box and found a little plastic fork, so he took a bite.

The puff pastry melted on his tongue. The whipped cream was perfectly light and faintly sweet, and Bin couldn’t help but close his eyes and moan.

Of course the pastries were also delicious. Lee Dongmin could have been the ugliest squid in the world and everyone would come to his bakery every day anyway just for a single bite of one of these.

Bin opened his eyes, and he noticed Dongmin eyeing him warily.

“How do you make these?” were the next words out of Bin’s mouth, because his brain was still obviously not functioning.

He was a trained patissier. He knew exactly how to make a Napoleon from scratch.

Dongmin’s expression softened, and he said, “We make everything fresh every day. Puff pastry is made by folding layers of pastry with layers of butter in between, so it has that flaky effect once it’s baked. We whip the cream and layer it between the puff pastry with fresh strawberries. It’s not as difficult as it seems.”

“This is amazing,” Bin said honestly.

Dongmin ducked his head, his cheeks fetchingly pink. “Thank you.”

“Tell me more about making puff pastry. How many times do you have to fold it to get it so light and flaky?” Bin kept on eating and stealing glances at Dongmin, because he was floored.

The pastry was stellar, and Dongmin was otherworldly handsome, and maybe Bin should have been worried about the fate of his own bakery, but he was floating on cloud nine and unable to care.

“Typically six times,” Dongmin said. “The trick is to make sure the butter doesn’t melt while you’re folding the pastry, though, so having the right tools is essential to getting the pastry just right. A French rolling pin and a pastry scraper are best, so you don’t overly warm up the butter and pastry with your hands while you’re working it. Some people like to soften the butter in a mixer first, but I still find that warms up the butter too much.”

Bin had learned every single one of those things in school, but he didn’t even care.

“The dough is very simple, though, just flour and water,” Dongmin said. “It’s considered a lean dough, because it has no fat — I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bore you.”

“You’re not boring me at all,” Bin said. He cleared his throat. “It sounds like you know your puff pastry really well. After all, the results speak for themselves.” He hefted the now-empty box.

“Thank you,” Dongmin said. 

The bells over the door tinkled, light and airy and musical, and a gaggle of girls said, “Oppa! What can we have for breakfast today?”

“Please come again soon,” Dongmin said to Bin, then turned and greeted the girls.

Oh, I will, Bin thought, and then he ducked out of the bakery before he could be trapped by the gaggle of university students who’d just filled the place.

On the way back to Moonbeams, he realized.

He and his teammates were totally doomed.

Chapter Text

“What was that?” Jinwoo asked as he bustled past Dongmin with a fresh tray of stuffed brioche.

“What was what?” Dongmin murmured, moving along the counter to box up some red velvet cake pops.

“You just totally spilling your guts about making puff pastry.” Jinwoo didn’t look at him, busy making sure he didn’t drop anything. He moved a bit slower than Dongmin and Myungjun, but his precision and thoroughness made sure they sold quality pastries.

“Didn’t you see?” Myungjun emerged from the back with a tray of macarons. They were for a custom order, and he’d painted delicate filigree-like flowers on the top of each one with a paint-thin layer of colored frosting. “He was trying to impress that super hot guy who came in during a very random lull.”

“I was not,” Dongmin hissed, but he knew his cheeks were burning, and that stranger had been very, very attractive, with broad shoulders and a very sweet smile and a gentle, light voice.

Jinwoo smothered a laugh, then ducked back into the kitchen.

Dongmin turned back to the customers, a group of college girls who were roommates and lived near here and came in regularly. Dongmin and his teammates were under no illusion that the main draw of the bakery was how handsome the three of them were, but as the handsome stranger had said, the results of their baking spoke for themselves. People came in the first time because they glimpsed Dongmin or Jinwoo or Myungjun through the window. People came back because their pastries were stellar.

The three of them had trained at Le Cordon Bleu together, were the only three Korean students in their class, and they’d banded together out of necessity. They’d done their military service at the same time with the promise that, once they were all finished, they’d open a bakery together.

And they’d done it. Silver & Sunshine had just had its one-year anniversary, and they were still going strong.

“Everything oppa makes is so delicious,” Chaeyoung said, batting her eyelashes at Dongmin.

He inclined his head politely. “Thank you. I hope you eat well, and that your food brings you happiness.”

“Your pastries always bring us happiness,” Jisoo said, and her friends giggled.

Then Sarang realized they were going to be late for lecture, and they bade him a hasty farewell and ducked out.

“It’s going to be a good day of sales,” Myungjun said, pausing beside Dongmin, hands on his hips.

“What makes you say that?” Dongmin asked.

“Because, your face is lucky.” Myungjun reached up and pinched Dongmin on the cheek, then darted back into the kitchen, cackling after Dongmin tried to bat his hand away.

Dongmin wasn’t unaware of his good looks, but he’d worked very hard all his life so he could be more than his looks, so that people couldn’t dismiss his work and success as based on his looks alone.

He knew he’d been blessed with very good looks inherited from his mother, and that he ought to take good care of himself, both body and mind, because appearances did matter, and at the very least he wanted to be taken seriously as a professional chef, so he’d better be neatly-groomed and look the part.

He’d seen the moment that stranger had walked into the bakery and come up short at Dongmin’s looks. The man probably had no idea that Dongmin had been just as shocked at how handsome the man was. If only Dongmin had asked for his name. But he’d been unable to think, and he’d rambled on about making puff pastry like an idiot. None of the other men he’d tried to date had ever cared about baking and how it was both an art and a science, but when Dongmin was nervous, he rambled. About baking trivia.

At least the man had liked his pastries.

If only Dongmin had asked for his name.

Hoping the man would come back the next day was silly. Silver & Sunshine had plenty of regular customers, but few of them came daily. It had taken a while to balance the price of the pastries with the cost of making them. Every food establishment rode on razor-thin profit margins, and while Dongmin and his teammates knew that their exacting creations were worth a lot of money, they were located in a friendly but small neighborhood, and their regular customers couldn’t afford the prices that a high-end bakery like this one could charge in, say, downtown Seoul.

Still, every time the bells above the door jangled, Dongmin turned to look.

Myungjun and Jinwoo made fun of him the tenth time he dashed out to the front at the sound of the bell even though they rotated helping customers unless they were in the middle of an actual baking project and it wasn’t his turn.

Again.

Dongmin smiled pleasantly at the customers and served them politely, exchanging small-talk with some of the regulars, then slouched back into the kitchen in disappointment once the transaction was done.

The eleventh time, Dongmin’s speed and alertness was rewarded when the bells tinkled and the door swung open, and there he was, the handsome stranger from yesterday.

Was it just Dongmin’s imagination, or did the stranger seem as flustered as Dongmin felt?

But then the man smiled, and Dongmin’s heart fluttered.

“Good morning. How can I help you?” Dongmin asked.

Today the man was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket that made him look like a bad boy, but the man’s smile was so sweet.

He stepped up to the case and scanned its contents. Finally he pointed to a cake. “I’d like a slice of that. It sounds interesting.”

Dongmin leaned back so he could see where the man was pointing.

“It’s called…goodnight rose?” The man tested the foreign syllables carefully.

Dongmin nodded and opened the case, fetched a slice and boxed it up as prettily as he could, and as slowly as he could. “Yes, it’s an Indian-inspired pistachio cardamom cake with rosewater frosting.”

“Interesting,” the man said. He paid with his card again, and this time Dongmin had the presence of mind to sneak a look at the name on the card.

Moon Bin.

Dongmin handed back the card, receipt, and slice of cake in a box.

He wondered what he should say to get Moon Bin to stick around longer, if he could say anything at all with how his heart was pounding, but just like yesterday, Bin popped the box open and took a bite then and there.

Dongmin’s knees went a little weak at the way Bin’s eyes slid closed as he moaned, but Dongmin was also fiercely proud of how good his creations were, if they got that reaction.

Then Bin’s eyes opened, and he smiled again, so bright and sweet, and Dongmin’s heart fluttered all over again.

“Amazing! I’ve never had anything like it before, but I love it. How do you make your cake so spongy and fluffy and moist?”

Dongmin cleared his throat. “Well, there are several key elements to baking a cake well. First, you definitely have to ensure that the temperature in the oven is right. Sometimes that means using a thermometer inside the oven instead of just trusting the one on the outside of the oven.”

Bin nodded, listening, expression earnest, and Dongmin chanced a smile.

“Also, the key is to keep your batter light and fluffy and not over-mix it or any of the ingredients, or else you’ll get rid of the air in it before it bakes. Sift your flour — and use proper cake flour, or add some cornstarch to regular flour — and fold the ingredients carefully. Use buttermilk instead of regular milk, and maybe some baking soda as well. Beat the eggs slowly, too, before you add them. Also, if you put sugar syrup over the cake, that stops it from drying out before frosting it.”

Bin blinked, looking a little overwhelmed, and Dongmin ducked his head.

“Sorry. I rambled again.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bin said. “I just — that was actually a really good explanation. Why, uh,  buttermilk?”

“It’s more acidic than regular milk, and the acid in it breaks down the gluten in the flour, which makes the cake softer,” Dongmin said promptly, and he realized he sounded like Hermione Granger looking for more house points, so he closed his mouth.

Bin nodded. “That makes sense.” He saluted Dongmin with his fork. “Thank you for the delicious cake, Chef Lee Dongmin. You’re very talented.”

“You’re welcome, Moon Bin,” Dongmin said, and the man raised his eyebrows.

“You know my name?” He looked nervous.

“I, ah, saw it on your card when you paid,” Dongmin said.

“Right. Of course. You’re smart and observant.” Bin cleared his throat. “Are you here every day?”

Dongmin nodded. “Yes. We own the bakery together, and we’re the only employees, so we don’t really have days off unless we close the bakery altogether.”

“I feel you. Well, thanks for the amazing cake and the baking lesson.” Bin saluted Dongmin with his fork and turned to go.

“What’s your favorite kind of pastry?” Dongmin called after him.

That made him pause. Then he smiled and said, “You know, I’m not sure I have a favorite. Maybe I should figure out what that is, huh?”

“Do you like apples?” Dongmin asked.

Bin nodded. “I do. See you!” And he stepped out of the bakery with a musical tinkle of bells.

He hadn’t said when he’d see Dongmin again, but that didn’t matter.

Dongmin knew what he would make.

Chapter Text

“You’re going back again?” Sanha asked, pausing and wiping his hand across his already-sweaty brow.

“Surely you’ve seen enough.” Minhyuk hadn’t stopped working, was installing shelves in the postage stamp of an office that was just off of the kitchen. “They’re a high-end bakery. We’re making more homey food, like donuts and eclairs and rolls and loaves and muffins and cookies and stuff. It won’t be a problem. We’re just as good as any French-trained chefs.”

Bin said, “I want to see what else they’ve got, as far as their business model. Have they partnered with that coffee shop we want to partner with? Do they offer deals? That kind of thing.”

“Did they offer you any kind of loyalty card or anything when you bought that cake?” Sanha asked.

Bin shook his head.

“Then we’ll be just fine,” Minhyuk said. “Also, I reached out to that homeless shelter, and they’d be glad to take day-old pastries off our hands.”

Sanha lifted his chin. “We won’t have any leftovers.”

Minhyuk rolled his eyes. “Whatever. We can still succeed even if we occasionally have leftovers.” Then he looked at Bin. “Stay here. We need you.”

“I’ll be fast,” Bin said, shrugging on his jacket and heading for the door.

“How will you learn anything if you’re fast?” Sanha asked.

“I’m smart,” Bin said.

Sanha called after him, “If you keep eating all those pastries you’re going to have to spend way more extra time in the gym and you know it!”

Bin let the door fall shut behind him, then headed for Silver & Sunshine.

There was plenty more he needed to research, like what their prices were for catering and bulk orders and custom orders like wedding cakes and the like.

Bin was doing research, that was all.

He absolutely was not going to moon over Lee Dongmin and indulge in his delicious pastries, not at all. If he was spending money on the competition, well, it was all in the name of market research. It was an investment in the future of Moonbeams Bakery, and someone had to take the hit.

When Bin stepped into the bakery, it was crowded, full of teenagers in uniforms who were skipping morning study and would barely make it to homeroom on time; college students who were quite possibly straight up skipping lectures; and a gaggle of mothers and grandmothers.

For the first time, Bin saw employees besides Dongmin. They were both very handsome men as well, shorter than Dongmin, one with broad shoulders and sweet features, the other with delicate, prettier features.

One grandma actually reached over the counter and pinched the third man’s cheek and called him My darling Myungjunnie before she accepted a baguette wrapped in paper and shuffled for the door.

Bin inclined his head and held the door open for her, as her hands were full, and then he craned his neck, searching for Dongmin.

Who was just coming out of the back with a tray of beautiful miniature cheesecakes that had some kind of purple design swirled into the top. Blueberry? Lavender, maybe, seeing as how there had been rosewater frosting on yesterday’s cake.

Bin stood patiently behind the other customers and listened to them gush and flirt and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

The shortest baker was called Jinjin-oppa, though that was certainly a nickname.

When Bin finally reached the front of the line, it was Chef Park Jinwoo who was standing ready to assist him.

Bin pasted a smile on his face, because he didn’t want to look disappointed or anything. He was here doing market research.

Only a moment later Jinwoo staggered aside as Dongmin appeared.

“Good morning, Bin-ssi,” Dongmin said. “How can I help you?”

Jinwoo went to assist the next customer, though Bin thought he heard a mutter about sharp and pointy elbows.

“Ah, I was wondering,” Bin said, “how much do you charge for custom jobs? Like petits-fours for a party or a wedding cake or something.”

Dongmin raised his eyebrows. “A wedding cake? Are — are you getting married?”

“Who, me?” Bin winced when his voice cracked. He hadn’t hit that note since Sanha had been shorter than Minhyuk. “No. Just. Theoretically. Um. My sister’s birthday is coming up. How much would a custom birthday cake cost?”

“Depends on the kind and size, but we have a range of prices and options.” Dongmin reached under the counter, then came up with a glossy folded brochure full of mouth-watering color photos of cakes and croissants and more. “Feel free to look through there and let me know what you need.”

“Thank you,” Bin said, accepting it.

“Anything else I can help you with?” Dongmin asked.

Right. This was a place of business. Bin should — should spend some money. He was stupidly glad Sua’s birthday really was coming up, though.

“I have something apple-based, if you like,” Dongmin said.

Bin blinked. “Pardon?”

Was it Bin’s imagination, or were Dongmin’s cheeks fetchingly pink again?

“Yesterday you said you like apples. I made some apple tarts for you.” Dongmin slid along the case, and Bin followed opposite him, like he was a magnet drawn to another.

“Would you like one?” Dongmin asked.

Bin peered into the case, expecting to see some little apple tarts or something, and instead he saw gorgeous golden roses. It took him a moment to realize they were miniature apple rose tarts, thinly-sliced apples arranged in thin sheaths of pastry and coiled to look like perfect roses.

“I’d like three,” Bin said, without thinking, because he wanted more than one of them for sure, but he’d also probably have to sure with Minhyuk and Sanha, if only to forestall their complaining about how he was stuffing himself full of treats  when he was supposed to be helping them fix up the shop.

Dongmin started selecting some to put into a box, and then Bin said,

“Actually, four.”

Dongmin paused and raised his eyebrows, but Bin nodded. That way he could share with the other two but still have some for himself as well.

Dongmin brought the box back to the cash register, and Bin paid, only wincing a little at the cost.

“Well?” Dongmin asked, handing the card back.

Oh. Right. He wanted to know what Bin thought.

“Seems almost a shame to eat them, because they’re so pretty,” Bin said, opening the box, but then he picked one up very carefully by the delicate paper wrapper it was in and took a bite.

Heavenly. Sugar and cinnamon and apple sweetness and crispness with just a hint of apricot and peach. It tasted like warm summer nights in the countryside.

Bin smiled at Dongmin. “It’s really delicious. I like the touch of peach.”

“I’m glad,” Dongmin said. “I was hoping you’d like them.”

Butterflies fluttered in Bin’s stomach. “Ah — you made these for me?”

“Well not just for you,” Dongmin said, and he was blushing so fetchingly again.

“They might just be my favorite pastry ever,” Bin said, because if Dongmin had made them for him, they were definitely his favorite pastry. As a baker and pastry chef himself, Bin really didn’t have a favorite, but anything that a man as talented and gorgeous as Dongmin made for him had to be his favorite.

“Ah — I’m glad,” Dongmin said, and he was blushing so hard. He reached up and pressed a hand to his own face, and Bin wanted to reach out, cover Dongmin’s hand with his own, look into his eyes and —

“Hey, can you help me for a second?” someone called from the back.

Dongmin ducked his head. “It was good seeing you again, Bin-ssi. Enjoy the apple tarts!” And he ducked into the back.

Bin turned and walked out of the bakery, feeling like he was floating on air.

When he got back to Moonbeams, he closed the door behind him and sank against it with a sigh.

“You all right?” Minhyuk asked. He set down his hammer and wiped his face, leaving a streak of dust across his cheekbone, and crossed the room. “Did they realize who you are and what you’re doing and kick you out?”

“Not at all,” Bin said. “I did good market research.” He reached into his pocket and held out the little pamphlet.

“Ooh, you brought back enemy goods!” Sanha pounced on the box and tore it open. He frowned. “Rose apple mini tarts? That’s all they’ve got?”

“I like apples,” Bin said.

Sanha bit into one. “It does taste pretty good.”

Minhyuk picked up another one, inspected it critically, sniffed it, then licked it. He hummed thoughtfully, then took a small nibble of the apple, then the pastry. “This is a simple recipe, but it is very well-executed. I could do just as well, though, if not better.”

“Thanks for finally thinking to share,” Sanha said, and wolfed down the rest of his tart.

Minhyuk ate his more slowly, expression thoughtful. “I like the mix of peach and apricot. That’s a nice variation. I’d use some honey, maybe, though.” While he ate, he browsed the little paper pamphlet. “Wow, their prices are pretty steep. But they do petit-fours for parties and stuff. That’s less of a thing for us.”

“We can do custom cakes too, though,” Sanha said, peering over Minhyuk’s shoulder. “This is good research, hyung. Now eat your apple tart and get to work. This counter won’t build itself.”

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you actually made those apple tarts just for him,” Myungjun said, shaking his head.

The three of them were huddled in the back, eating some of Jinwoo’s cast-off stuffed brioches that had come out perfectly edible but not that pretty.

“I totally can,” Jinwoo said. “How else does Dongmin know how to woo anyone? It’s either food or study help.”

Myungjun eyed Dongmin. “You helped us study.”

“I’d never want to woo you, not in a million years,” Dongmin said, rolling his eyes. “And you aren’t the only person I helped study.”

Jinwoo nudged Myungjun. “Don’t you remember he also helped Fabien study?”

“The French boy? He wanted to learn Korean, not cooking,” Myungjun said. And then his eyes went wide. “Heol! You made him fresh kimchi and bibimbap and even read bean fish cakes from scratch one time. I thought you were showing off.”

Dongmin scowled at Jinwoo but felt himself blush. “So what if I baked something he happened to like? Those tarts sold very well and you know it.”

“And you’re sulking because it’s past lunch time and he hasn’t come in yet,” Jinwoo said, his expression smug and knowing.

Dongmin hadn’t had a chance to ask what else Moon Bin might like, and he didn’t want to overdo it with the apple theme in case Bin figured out how Dongmin felt. Best as Dongmin could tell, Bin was a food enthusiast, which Dongmin appreciated very much; food enthusiasts were who kept Silver & Sunshine open.

As a safe bet, Dongmin had gone for miniature cheesecakes with peach compote on top, because Bin had noticed the peach jam in the tarts the day before, and he hadn’t said he disliked peaches.

“I just want Silver & Sunshine to do its best, and having a regular customer only helps our business,” Dongmin said with as much virtuousness as he could muster.

“Sure,” Myungjun drawled, every syllable dripping with skepticism.

“I still think it’s unfair that my name was left out of the bakery’s name,” Jinwoo said. “Dongmin’s baking pseudonym in school was Eunwoo, and of course Myungjun is Sunshine. But where am I?”

“Our logo, of course,” Myungjun said. “Our pretty silver and sunshine turtle.”

“Because I’m slow,” Jinwoo said, with an air of longsuffering.

Myungjun preened. “I drew Turtle Jinjin so cutely! The customers love him.”

Jinwoo sighed and shook his head. “I give up.” Then he cleared his throat. “What are you going to do if he doesn’t show up today? Wander the streets looking for him? Put up wanted flyers on all the lamp posts? Or lost posters, like for people who lose their pets?”

Myungjun considered. “He could be a pet. When he’s smiling, he looks like a puppy, but otherwise he looks like a haughty kitten, you know? You could get him a leather collar with a pretty silver bell —”

The bells over the door tinkled.

Dongmin shot to his feet and headed out front, and sure enough, there was Moon Bin.

He was casually cute, in jeans and a pastel t-shirt. Was that a bit of a smudge of dust across his nose? What did he do for a living? Construction? He had such amazing arm muscles that Dongmin would believe it.

“Hello, Bin-ssi,” Dongmin said, and he did look a bit like haughty feline, but then he smiled, and Dongmin melted a little inside.

“Chef Lee.” Bin inclined his head politely. “How are you today?”

“I’m well. And you?” Dongmin asked. Plenty of customers asked after Dongmin and the others’ well-being, and they were sincere, but this was probably the first time Dongmin really cared about the response.

“Pretty good. Worked hard this morning, came in for a break. And also I wanted to order a birthday cake. For my younger sister.” Bin cleared his throat and stepped up to the counter. “I’m glad it’s not crazy crowded right now. I must have missed the lunch rush.”

“Oh, a custom order?” Dongmin lit up. “I can definitely help you with that. What flavor of cake does she want, do you know? Does she have a theme she might want, or a favorite color?”

“She likes vanilla,” Bin said. “Kind of boring, I know. As for a theme — maybe something with moons and stars? She likes stars a lot.”

“That we can do, like a sort of galaxy theme? Purples and pinks and blues,” Dongmin said. “We could dye the cake itself, and also decorate the outside of the cake to look like a snapshot of the universe. How does that sound?”

“Amazing,” Bin said, and he sounded a little breathy, and was he looking into Dongmin’s eyes?

Dongmin cleared his throat. “Great! How big?” He reached under the counter without looking away and found a notebook, flipped it open.

“Enough to serve at least —” Bin fell silent, gaze upward as he counted people in his head — “ten people.”

“You have a big family,” Dongmin said, but he made a note. 

“Ah, her friends will also be there,” Bin said.

Dongmin wondered what it would take, to get invited to Bin’s sister’s party, maybe as Bin’s date.

No. He had to be professional. 

“Does anyone attending the party have any food allergies?”

“Not related to cake,” Bin said. 

Dongmin raised his eyebrows.

“Unless you’re planning on using seafood in the cake, we’re good,” Bin said. “One of my coworkers is allergic to shellfish.”

“Not going to be an issue,” Dongmin said. “When do you need the cake by?”

“Next Wednesday,” Bin said, and Dongmin made another note on the form.

“Do you want a square cake or a rectangle cake or a circle cake or any other unique shape?” Dongmin asked.

“A circle cake is fine,” Bin said. “Circles are infinite, just like the universe.”

“True,” Dongmin said. “I like how you think.”

Bin smiled, and Dongmin really could get used to seeing Bin’s smile.

“How much for the cake?” Bin asked, reaching for his wallet.

“I’ll need to do some calculations, but I can give you an estimate for now,” Dongmin said. 

Bin nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll come in tomorrow and get a final number, or is that too soon?”

“Tomorrow is perfect,” Dongmin said, a little breathlessly, and hoped he wasn’t blushing too hard.

He was pretty sure he heard Myungjun’s laughter from the kitchen before it cut off; that was probably Jinwoo’s doing.

“Great, see you then.” Bin started to turn away, then paused. “What do you recommend today? For a treat. For me. Not that coming to see you isn’t a treat in and of itself.”

From anyone else, Dongmin might have been offended at the notion that coming into the bakery was all about seeing him, but he smiled back at Bin and cleared his throat.

“Ah, you noticed the peach jam flavor in the apple tarts yesterday, so I made some mini cheesecakes with peach compote.” Dongmin led Bin along the case and then waited, buzzing with impatience, while Bin leaned down and looked at them.

Bin straightened up with a bright smile. “They look delicious. I’ll take one.”

“Not four?” Dongmin asked.

“Not sharing with my coworkers today,” Bin said.

“Understandable.” Dongmin boxed up the little cheesecake, complete with a little plastic fork, and handed it to Bin, who paid and, as was somehow already their tradition, opened the box and took a bite.

“Well?” Dongmin asked.

Bin hummed, pleased. “Delicious. The texture of the cheesecake is so smooth, and I love the sweetness of the peach compote, but it doesn’t overpower the flavor of the cheesecake at all. It tastes like dessert at the end of a summer date,  you know?”

Dongmin didn’t really know, since he hadn’t dated much at all, but he just nodded. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Let’s be real, I like everything you make.” 

“I’ll do my best on your sister’s cake,” Dongmin promised.

“Oh? You’ll make it yourself?”

“Well, Myungjun-hyung and I will work together. He’s better at some of the finer artistic details,” Dongmin admitted, and bit his lip. 

“I appreciate the effort you’ll both be putting in.” Bin graced Dongmin with another one of his smiles and turned to go.

“What should I make for you tomorrow?” Dongmin blurted out.

Bin shrugged. “Surprise me.”

And he was gone in a blaze of sunlight and the silver tinkle of bells.

“Wow, you’re so whipped,” Myungjun said, stepping up beside Dongmin.

“He’s beautiful, and he likes my baking,” Dongmin protested.

“Can’t go wrong with someone who likes your baking,” Jinwoo said.

Myungjun peered over Dongmin’s shoulder. “So, what’s this cake I’m helping you with?”

Chapter Text

Minhyuk almost spat out a mouthful of kimchi. “You ordered Sua’s birthday cake from them?”

“So what if I did?” Bin muttered. “They make really pretty cakes. They understood what concept I wanted.”

“But Sanha and I were going to make her cake,” Minhyuk protested. “Hyung, we’re bakers. We don’t need to buy fancy cakes from other people.”

“I already put the order in,” Bin said.

Sanha stared at him. “You’re totally in love with this Lee Dongmin person, aren’t you? Like middle school falling over yourself in love with him.”

“Says the one of us who was most recently in middle school,” Bin said, and Sanha rolled his eyes.

“You know he’s going to figure out who you are eventually,” Minhyuk said, returning to his dinner.

“How? Their bakery hours are the same as ours, and unless they deliberately shut down their bakery, they’re always working when we are,” Bin said.

“And once our bakery is up and running and people in the neighborhood get to know us, when you go into his shop, they’re going to recognize you as another baker,” Minhyuk said.

Sanha narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to skip out of this place every day to go buy pastries from the competition.”

Bin honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Whatever. I ordered the cake. You two are off the hook for making it. We need to focus on getting this place ready for opening anyway.”

They’d managed to clean all the baking equipment and appliances in the back, install the shelving and furniture they needed for the office, and clean up the front. They still needed to repaint the front and decorate it, then get the glass on the counters installed and also get a pay point set up.

Sanha and Minhyuk were dedicated and hard workers, and the fact that they were doing so much of this work themselves was saving them a lot of money.

They were going to have Sua’s party at the shop as a pre-opening party, and then they’d be up late the night before opening, prepping doughs and fillings and chocolates and jams and more before the big day.

There was so much to do, and Bin knew it was important, but every spare moment, his mind wandered back to Lee Dongmin looking charming in his uniform and smiling that adorable crinkle-eyed smile and —

“You should just ask him out,” Minhyuk said.

That dragged Bin back to reality. “What? No. I don’t think he even likes men.”

“It can’t hurt to ask. If he likes men, then you’ve got yourself a boyfriend. If he doesn’t, you’ll have humiliated yourself and can never set foot in Silver & Sunshine again and you’ll have to stay here and work diligently, like us,” Sanha said.

“Aish. So savage!” Bin swatted at him.

Sanha dodged, laughing and also protecting his fruit smoothie from spilling.

“He’s right, though,” Minhyuk said. “You should get your head back in the game.”

“My head is in the game,” Bin insisted.

Minhyuk snorted. “Whatever.” He finished his food and stood up, scooped up the empty containers of take-out. “Let’s get back to work, Sanha. When Bin’s head is out of the clouds, he’ll come join us.”

Bin tried to grab Minhyuk’s arm, but Minhyuk dodged deftly and didn’t drop a thing — he could dance and hold a cake at the same time; it had been his claim to fame in school — and headed into the back to throw everything away.

“Join us soon, hyung,” Sanha said, his tone a little pointed, and he followed Minhyuk.

Bin sighed and sat back, closed his eyes.

And imagined Dongmin’s smile one more time.

The next morning, Bin headed into Sunshine & Silver before the others were even finished getting ready for the day. Sharing an apartment with his two coworkers maybe wasn’t the best idea, since they’d spent all night ribbing him about Dongmin as well, but as long as Bin put in a full day’s work alongside them, they really couldn’t complain much.

When Bin arrived at the bakery, it wasn’t too crowded, and he was buzzing with nervous energy, watching Dongmin and Myungjun and Jinwoo maneuver around each other with a deftness borne of experience and familiarity.

Bin was working himself up to saying something witty to Dongmin while the woman in front of him ordered.

“Oh, a custom order? Just a moment,” Dongmin said, and reached for a familiar notebook.

Bin bit back a hiss of impatience.

“What kind of cake do you need?” Dongmin asked.

“Well,” the woman said, “I need one to celebrate my daughter’s menarche, but I’m not sure what kind is traditional.”

Dongmin blinked. “Er, menarche? Ah, we’ve never had a request for that kind of cake before. Um…” Color rose on his cheeks. Dongmin flipped through a binder full of photos of fancy cakes. “Would a cake that’s mostly red be, er, too much?”

“I don’t know,” the woman said, accepting the binder and looking through it herself. “Maybe? She’s my oldest daughter, so this is new to me, but she asked for one. This wasn’t really a thing when I was her age. Could you, I don’t know, draw a bleeding uterus on the cake, maybe?”

Dongmin’s face flamed.

Bin bit back a laugh, but the truth was he’d probably feel about as flat-footed and awkward if he were in Dongmin’s position.

“Ah, I’m not really the artist on the team. Let me ask Myungjun-hyung. Hyung, can you draw a uterus on a cake?”

“I can draw anything on a cake,” Myungjun said breezily, and then he whipped around. “Wait, what?”

“I know this is a bit awkward to ask men,” the woman said, “but this is my daughter’s favorite bakery.”

And her daughter was going to be embarrassed as hell the next time she came in here, probably.

“Ah, it’s fine. I just — none of us have sisters,” Dongmin said.

Bin cleared his throat. “Ah, if I may? I have a younger sister, and I do remember my mother buying her a cake for this, er, occasion. How about a red velvet cake? But then decorate the cake very fancy. Pink frosting roses, and maybe some edible candies that look like pearls — all classy and grown-up. Since this is about growing up. I think maybe a blazing red cake with, like, blood-red frosting might be a bit much. Although if your daughter is a fan of horror movies then maybe not.”

The woman nodded. “That sounds good. Could I get it by tomorrow?”

Dongmin looked unaccountably relieved. “Yes. Absolutely. Red velvet circle cake. How big?”

The woman hemmed and hawed over sizes but finally picked one. Myungjun showed her a sample pink frosting rose and some chocolate candies that looked like pearls, and the woman approved. She paid in advance since Dongmin could calculate the price of the cake right then and there, and she left, offering Bin a grateful smile as she passed.

Myungjun scratched his head. “I didn’t even realize there were cakes for that kind of thing. It’s not like I got a cake the first time I had a wet dream.”

“Hyung,” Dongmin protested, swatting at him, face even redder.

“What? We’re all men here,” Myungjun said, and it was true. Bin was the last customer — though for how long, who knew.

A moment later, the door opened, and a gaggle of school girls spilled into the brightly-lit bakery.

“Bin-ssi,” Dongmin said quickly. “Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it.”

Bin shrugged. “Like I said, I have a sister. Speaking of my sister, how much for her birthday cake?”

Dongmin told him, and Bin winced only internally before he nodded. He went to hand over his credit card, and then he said, 

“What have you baked today?” He resisted the urge to add especially for me, even though he desperately wanted to believe that Dongmin was baking things especially for him and not just using Bin as an excuse to be adventurous; after all, one time Bin had made new donuts every day for a week based on outrageous flavors Minhyuk had suggested.

“I made some madeleines,” Dongmin said, and Bin followed him along the counter to where some lovely seashell-shaped madeleines were laid out in rows, perfectly identical and dusted with sugar and half-dipped in chocolate. “You talked about a summer date last time, and I thought about walking along the beach in summertime and looking for seashells, so.”

“I like the way your mind works,” Bin said, and he really did, because Dongmin remembered what Bin had said, and also because Bin would love to walk along the beach with Dongmin and look for seashells. “I’ll take four.”

“Sharing with your coworkers today?”

Bin nodded.

Dongmin rang him up, and he paid, and of course, as was tradition, Bin ate one of the madeleines right then and there.

Of course it didn’t just look perfect, it also tasted perfect, textbook perfect, light and fluffy and sweet.

“As always,” Bin said, “this is amazing.”

Dongmin smiled, and Bin smiled back, but only faintly, because he was doing his best to memorize Dongmin’s face.

“What should I make for tomorrow?” Dongmin asked.

Bin considered. “Something with strawberries,” he said.

Dongmin nodded. “All right.”

Bin really, really wanted to believe Dongmin was making all these amazing treats for him.

So he dared to ask.

“Why do you keep asking me what I want, anyway? You have more customers than me.”

Dongmin blinked. “Oh? Well — you’re new, and I’m always interested in what new customers think, and it forces me to think in new directions.”

Bin’s heart sank, but he refused to let it show on his face. “Makes sense. I do like the way you think,” he said, and headed for the door.

As he walked back to Moonbeams, his heart sunk further and further into his shoes, and he wondered if it would be worth going back tomorrow.

He knew he’d go anyway.

Chapter Text

“Why the hell did I lie to him?” Dongmin fretted and pounded viciously at some dough.

“Don’t over-mix it,” Jinwoo said patiently.

“You lied to him because you like him so much and it makes you stupid. Even the brilliant Lee Dongmin is rendered stupid in the face of true love,” Myungjun said.

Dongmin shoved at him. “Don’t say it like that!”

Myungjun danced just out of reach. “Hey, making beautiful frosting roses for a special cake here!” And he resumed wielding the frosting bag with expert hands.

“What did you make for your true love today?” Jinwoo asked.

“Don’t call him that,” Dongmin said. “His name is Moon Bin. And I made surprise cheesecake.”

“He arranged the strawberries inside so when you slice the cakes just right they look like hearts,” Myungjun said, and Jinwoo hooted.

“Really?”

“Unless you slice them right down the middle you won’t notice the effect at all,” Dongmin said.

Jinwoo laughed. “Wow, you really do have it bad.”

“Hyung,” Dongmin protested.

The bells over the door tinkled.

Myungjun craned his neck and peered out the kitchen door. “Better get out there, lover boy. It’s the man of your dreams.”

Dongmin hissed at Myungjun, feeling color rise high on his cheeks, then cleared his throat, smoothed down his jacket, threw back his shoulders, and strode out to the shop front.

“Bin-ssi! Good morning. You’re here bright and early on a Saturday.” Dongmin smiled.

Bin’s smile in return was subdued. “I have a lot of work to do today.”

“Even on a Saturday?”

“Says the man who’s also working on a Saturday,” Bin said.

“True,” Dongmin said. He didn’t actually know what Bin did for a living. He could have been a model or an idol or maybe an actor or even something boring like an accountant.

“Ah, my coworkers are expecting treats today, because we have to work very hard,” Bin said, and Dongmin nodded.

He boxed up four of the mini cheesecakes. “I know it’s cheesecakes again, but I’m riffing on a theme. You said you like strawberries, so enjoy the strawberries.”

Bin paid. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll enjoy them.” And then he turned and ducked out of the bakery.

Dongmin watched him go, crestfallen. He was supposed to try one of the cheesecakes right away. It was their thing. Wasn’t it?

Was it obvious to Bin that Dongmin liked him? Was Dongmin’s affection making him uncomfortable?

Dongmin cast a longing glance at the door,  then drifted back into the kitchen, where Jinwoo had taken over kneading the dough for the stuffed brioche sandwiches.

“Did he like them?” Jinwoo asked.

“Did he notice the hearts?” Myungjun asked.

“He didn’t try one like he usually does, he just left,” Dongmin said.

Jinwoo patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe he was in a hurry.”

“He did say he had to work hard today and his coworkers wanted treats,” Dongmin said.

“See? Everything is fine,” Jinwoo said.

“It’s not, though. Tomorrow we’re closed. I won’t see him till Monday.” Dongmin sighed and opened the flour cupboard, found the cake flour, and set to mixing batter for a fancy carrot cake.

“You’ll survive, I’m sure,” Myungjun said.

But Dongmin felt morose and anxious all day, wondering if Bin knew Dongmin liked him and was discomfited by it. 

All day Sunday, Dongmin was distracted while he was supposed to be doing laundry and other chores at his apartment, because he kept imagining Bin telling his coworkers about Dongmin’s obvious and awkward crush on him.

What if he’d noticed the strawberry hearts in the center of the cheesecakes? What if he hadn’t liked the cheesecakes at all?

On Monday, Dongmin was as anxious as a racehorse at the starting gate, waiting for Bin to come in. Every time the bells tinkled at the door, he went to see who was there.

Every time, it wasn’t Bin.

“Wow, you really miss him,” Myungjun said as he turned the sign on the door from open to closed at the end of a whole day without Bin.

“I just — does this mean he doesn’t like me? Or that he knows I like him?” Dongmin asked. “Did he notice the hearts, or were the cheesecakes bad?”

“They tasted delicious. Everyone else who bought them loved them,” Jinwoo reminded him gently, starting to sweep the space in front of the counter.

Dongmin went to count the till, but Myungjun nudged him aside. 

“Your mind is occupied. I’ve got this,” Myungjun said, opening the register and lifting out the cash tray.

Dongmin had no idea where Bin worked or what he did for a living or where he lived, because whenever Bin came in, all Dongmin could do was babble stupidly about baking.

He’d been the same when he first met Myungjun and Jinwoo. How had he ever managed to become friends with them?

Together, the three of them closed down the front end of the bakery, then headed into the back to prep fillings and doughs for tomorrow, and finally it was time to go home.

“You going to be all right?” Jinwoo asked as Dongmin locked the back door.

Dongmin nodded and tucked his keys away. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure you won’t wither without your darling Moon Bin,” Myungjun said, and Dongmin protested.

“Hyung! Not where someone could hear.”

“Maybe you should let someone hear, and then someone can tell him, if you’re afraid to do it yourself,” Myungjun said. Then he looped his arm through Jinwoo’s. “Want to go get sushi? My treat.”

After a night spent tossing and turning and worrying about Bin, Dongmin looked like a wreck the next day, with shadows under his eyes, and more than one customer expressed their concern.

“But if Bin comes in, he’ll look as good as new,” Jinwoo said to Myungjun.

Dongmin, beating some egg whites for meringue puffs, said, “I can hear you.”

Myungjun said, “You should just tell him you like him.”

Dongmin shook his head. “No.”

“Come on, you have his phone number,” Myungjun said. “It’s past lunch already. Half the day is gone. You could call him. After all, we’re getting ready to make his sister’s birthday cake.”

In fact, Myungjun was mixing food colors to make sure he could decorate the cake properly.

Dongmin considered. “Well, I could — I could at least call him. If he sounds friendly on the phone, maybe he just sounded different on Saturday because he didn’t want to work on a weekend. Most people don’t.”

“That’s true,” Myungjun said wisely. “We’re the crazy ones, those of us wild enough for the food service industry.”

“Call him,” Jinwoo said gently.

Dongmin considered. Just hearing Bin’s voice again would make him feel better, it was true. “I’ll call him.”

“We can watch the counter,” Jinwoo said.

“I mean I’ll call him after we close. If he hasn’t come in by then, I’ll call. I don’t want to look desperate,” Dongmin said.

Myungjun arched an eyebrow.

“I’m not desperate,” Dongmin said firmly.

But by close of business, there had been no sign of Moon Bin. Jinwoo swept the front and Myungjun counted the till and Dongmin stood staring at the order form with Bin’s number on it.

“You can do it,” Myungjun said, and the gentleness in his tone was worse than any teasing might have been.

Dongmin took a deep breath, picked up the shop phone, and called the number on the form.

It rang once, twice, three times, and then a man said,

“Hello?”

His voice was totally unfamiliar.

Dongmin’s throat closed. “Ah, yes, hello, is Moon Bin there?” Had Bin given him an office number or something?

“Oh, yes, this is Bin-hyung’s phone, but he’s in the shower. Got a little dirty today, and the day isn’t even done,” the man said, laughing lightly. 

Dongmin cleared his throat. “Who is this?”

The stranger said airily, “The man who’s showering after him.”

Dongmin felt his heart plummet into his shoes. Bin had a boyfriend.

With whom he’d gotten dirty.

Dongmin had to cough to clear his throat. “I’m calling from Silver & Sunshine to let Bin-ssi know that his sister’s birthday cake will be ready by noon tomorrow for pickup.”

“Ah, and here I thought you were a telemarketer to scare off. Thanks for letting us know! I’ll tell him. One of us will be by to pick the cake up tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your business,” Dongmin stammered out, and ended the call.

“Well?” Jinwoo asked, leaning on the broom.

“I think — I think that was his boyfriend who answered the phone.”

Sympathy shone in Myungjun’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“At least you know he likes men?” Jinwoo offered, and Myungjun hissed, Yah! Not helping.

Dongmin nodded and closed the book of order forms, set the phone back on its cradle. “Yeah. At least there’s that.” He turned and marched back into the kitchen and started to scrub metal whisks with fervor.

No wonder Bin was uncomfortable with Dongmin’s affection. He was already receiving affection from someone else.

All Wednesday morning, Dongmin was nervous and anxious, and not in the happy, fluttery, anticipatory way he’d been on days before. Could he face Bin, knowing that Bin had a boyfriend?

Still, Dongmin was determined to do his best on Bin’s sister’s cake, mixing it carefully and exactly, just how he’d explained to Bin, to keep it light and fluffy. Once it was finished, he covered it with sugar syrup and set it aside to cool so Myungjun could frost it and decorate it.

When it was finished, it was a visual masterpiece, a slice of the universe set on a delicate platter and ready to be served to friends and family. Dongmin stood just behind Myungjun’s shoulder and watched him put the finishing touches on the cake, watched him pipe on the final Happy Birthday Sua.

“This cake will be the best thing Moon Bin ever tasted, and he’s going to regret not dating you,” Myungjun said firmly.

They took a picture of the cake to save for the photo book for customers to look at when they wanted special orders.

Then they set the cake behind the counter with a bell cover over it and waited.

For Moon Bin to arrive.

He never did.

Noon came and went, and there was no sign of him.

And then around one, amidst a flurry of customers on a late lunch rush, two strangers came to pick up the cake. Both men were handsome, one tall and sweet-faced, the other shorter with high cheekbones and intense eyes.

“We’re here to pick up a cake that was ordered by Moon Bin,” the taller man said.

His voice was totally unfamiliar. Not Bin’s boyfriend, then.

But his gaze on Dongmin was pointed, and he looked down at Dongmin’s nametag, then back up at his face, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He knew who Dongmin was, recognized his name. Bin had talked about him.

Myungjun presented the cake with a flourish. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” the tall man said, a little grudgingly.

The other man paid Jinwoo, who rang him up quickly, and then the two men departed, the shorter man carrying the cake.

“Don’t dance with it,” the tall man was saying as the door swung shut behind them.

“Which one was his boyfriend?” Jinwoo asked later, after the rush had died down.

Dongmin shrugged. “No clue.”

Myungjun hugged him. “You’ll meet someone newer and better soon.”

But Dongmin didn’t want someone else. He wanted Bin.

Chapter Text

“We come bearing enemy birthday cake, safe and sound, even though Minhyuk was going to tempt fate and dance with it,” Sanha said, flinging open the front door of Moonbeams.

Bin looked up from where he was putting the finishing touches on some little chocolate meringue drops to go with the cake, and he glared.

“Do not harm the cake. I don’t care if it’s from the enemy. This is my sister we’re talking about.”

“Sua-noona is kind of scary,” Sanha said. “She takes after her brother.”

Bin glared and brandished the piping bag at him. “I’m not scary.”

“Says the guy whose favorite childhood toy was a toy knife,” Minhyuk drawled.

He put the cake on the counter beside a mound of presents that various relatives had dropped off during the day.

“You weren’t kidding about how beautiful Lee Dongmin is,” Minhyuk continued. “He’s like an eleven. The other two were very handsome as well, though.”

“Maybe we can get Sua to dress in drag and go undercover there, sabotage the operation, like Coffee Prince, only darker. Bakery Prince,” Sanha said.

Bin rolled his eyes. “You watch too many dramas.”

“You don’t want her going over there anyway,” Minhyuk said. “That one baker, the skinny pretty one, Kim Myungjun? Totally her type.”

“Myungjun-ssi is very handsome.” Bin finished the last meringue drop and set the piping bag aside, turned to inspect the cake. It was beautiful, a swirl of blues and purples and pinks, Sua’s name written prettily on the perfectly smooth surface.

“You really like him,” Minhyuk said, his tone gentle.

Bin shrugged. “Yeah, but he doesn’t really like me, so what does it matter?” He’d told them about what Dongmin had said to him, about just being curious about what Bin thought. 

Minhyuk nudged him lightly. “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

Bin took a deep breath. “I don’t have time to be upset. We open two days from now. And Sua’s party is tonight. Come on. Let’s get to work.”

Minhyuk nodded and saluted, and then he and Sanha set to decorating the front of the store for the party guests.

Bin’s parents were the first to arrive, followed by his and Sua’s favorite aunt, three of her friends from college, and finally Sua herself, hair windblown, dressed to the nines and looking like she’d just come off of a runway in Paris or Milan.

“Happy Birthday!” Mom cried, pulling her into a hug.

Sua hugged her back. “Thank you!” Then she pulled back and looked around. “Wow, oppa, this place looks really good. Are you ready to open?”

“We are,” Bin said. “Minhyukie and Sanha-ya have worked very hard to get this place ready.”

“I’ll come by on the big day, of course,” Sua said. “We all will, right?”

Euntak, Heejoo, and Chaeyoung nodded.

Bin’s parents hugged him.

“Our boy is a successful business owner now,” Dad said, patting Bin’s shoulder.

Aunt Nari ruffled Bin’s hair. “If I’d known what letting you help me in the kitchen would lead to, I’d have helped you more,” she said.

Bin ducked bashfully. “Thanks, Aunt. But today isn’t about Moonbeams. Today is about the lovely Moon Sua, who is on her way to being one of the best and brightest idols out there.”

Sanha distributed champagne flutes, and they made a toast.

“To Sua, who is a stellar dancer,” Minhyuk said, which was a huge compliment, coming from him. Before he’d given up dancing to pursue baking full-time, he’d been considered a dance prodigy in his own right.

“To Sua, who’s an amazing singer,” Sanha said, raising his glass. He played guitar and was a skilled singer too.

“To Sua, who’s as beautiful as her mother,” Dad said.

“To Sua, who’s as strong as her father,” Mom said.

Everyone else chimed in with compliments and toasts, and then they drank.

Then Minhyuk and Sanha brought the cake out of the back while everyone else sang Happy Birthday. Sua clapped and cheered, and Mom took a video while she closed her eyes and made a wish and then blew out the candles.

Then it was time to cut the cake.

Sua got to make the first slice, on account of being the birthday girl, but then Minhyuk took over, because he was best with a knife.

Bin distributed plates and forks, and Sanha topped up everyone’s champagne.

“Oppa, the cake is so beautiful,” Sua said.

Bin ducked his head. “I, ah, didn’t make it. We didn’t have the time. All our supplies come in tomorrow, so —”

Chaeyoung’s eyes lit up. “Did you get it from Silver & Sunshine? They make really amazing cakes. That looks like Myungjun-oppa’s art style.”

Bin’s throat closed. He coughed to clear it. “Ah, yes, I did. You know them?”

Chaeyoung nodded enthusiastically. “We’re going to be so blessed, two bakeries full of beautiful men and delicious treats.” She giggled, and Heejoo giggled with her.

Euntak said, “Don’t worry. Their style is pretty different from yours. You’ll blow them out of the water.”

“Thanks,” Bin said faintly.

Sua bit into the cake. “It is delicious, though. I love it. And it’s so pretty inside, too! Thank you, oppa.” She pressed a kiss to Bin’s cheek.

He took a bite of the cake, and it was more than delicious. It was heavenly. It was sheer perfection, light and fluffy and sweet but not too sweet. The cake had been beautiful, and even though it had mostly been cut apart, it still looked lovely. No doubt Dongmin and Myungjun had done their very best on this cake, because they were professionals, and they never did less than their best.

Perhaps the concept had been an interesting challenge for them, a chance to gain new inspiration. Bin hoped it had been interesting for Dongmin, at any rate. At least Dongmin had been thinking about Bin even when he wasn’t around.

“You all right?” Minhyuk asked in a low voice.

Bin nodded and pasted a smile on his face. “Yes! Just — got out of my head for a moment. How’s the cake?”

“Delicious,” Minhyuk admitted with a sigh. “Don’t worry, hyung. Our big day will go just fine. We’ll do just fine. Enjoy the party now, all right?”

Bin nodded and turned to Sua. “How is it?”

“So good,” she said, beaming at him. “You’re the best, oppa. Now what did you get me for a present?”

Everyone clustered around her for the grand gift opening. Bin presented her the gifts one by one, and she opened them dramatically. There was much cooing and cheering. Sanha took pictures of Sua posing with each gift, and she hugged each person after accepting their gifts, and Sanha took more pictures.

By the end of the evening, everyone but Minhyuk was tipsy on champagne and well-fed, Sua was happy, and she felt like she’d been celebrated well and was well-loved. 

After everyone else had departed, Bin was left alone to clean up.

He washed dishes and put them away; he swept; he threw away wrapping paper. Then he stood staring at the last slice of Sua’s birthday cake, which she’d declined to take back to the trainee dorms on account of needing to have some semblance of sticking to a diet, especially as she planned on coming to the bakery’s grand opening.

Bin sighed, scooped up a fork, and took a bite of the cake.

It tasted amazing.

It tasted like longing and regret.

Bin finished the slice anyway, and then he washed the plate and fork and put them away, and he pushed Lee Dongmin out of his mind.

The next day, Bin, Minhyuk, and Sanha woke early and headed to Moonbeams. They deep-cleaned the front, then headed into the back to prep fillings and doughs for the big day. Sanha was in charge of decorations. He went to pick up the big banner, as well as the flyers for the grand opening, which included coupons, and the stack of loyalty cards.

Sanha insisted on a cute crescent moon punch for the loyalty cards.

Minhyuk had managed to work out a deal with the cafe next door, so people who bought coffee there could get a discount at Moonbeams, and vice versa.

Once everything was mixed and prepped and safely in the giant industrial refrigerators in the back, the three of them hit the streets to hand out flyers and convince people to come to the grand opening of Moonbeams.

Minhyuk and Sanha were kind and pounded the pavement in the area closest to Silver & Sunshine, so Bin went the other way, smiling and handing out flyers.

“You know there’s another bakery near here, right?” a woman asked.

Bin nodded. “Yes. They have really delicious pastries, but we’re a different style, more homey, comfortable baking, with fresh loaves, muffins, homemade donuts, and cookies.”

The woman accepted the flyer, which had artful photographs of an array of cookies, and smiled at him. “I’ll try to be there!”

Bin smiled back. “Hope to see you there.”

He hoped to see many people there, but he knew he wouldn’t see Dongmin, and he had to be okay with that.

Chapter Text

Dongmin knew he’d been moping ever since Wednesday, after two men who weren’t Moon Bin had come in to pick up Moon Bin’s sister’s birthday cake. But he couldn’t help it. He missed Bin. He missed Bin’s cute smile and enthusiasm for baked goods and the way he looked when he ate a piece of something delicious.

He knew his moping had reached all new levels of pathetic when, Friday morning, he heard Myungjun and Jinwoo whispering to each other and casting him odd looks. Dongmin was a professional. His baking was flawless, and he was polite and friendly with their customers, and all the regulars were glad to see him.

So what if some of them commented that he looked tired?

He wasn’t tired. He was fine. He absolutely hadn’t had several sleepless nights wondering about Bin and what had gone wrong and if he’d ever have a chance to make it right.

“By the way, have you heard of the new bakery that opened up a couple of streets over?” Jisoo asked.

She, Chaeyoung, and Sarang had come for their usual breakfast pastries before their morning lecture.

“No, I haven’t.” Dongmin glanced over his shoulder at Jinwoo and Myungjun, who were whispering instead of baking.  “Hyung, have either of you heard of the new bakery?”

“Someone mentioned it yesterday,” Myungjun said, coming out to the front. He favored the three students with one of his sunny smiles. Everyone knew he was the sunshine in Silver & Sunshine. “I guess their grand opening is today? Their staff were out on the street handing out flyers, or so I heard.”

“We should go check them out,” Dongmin said.

Jinwoo opened his mouth to argue, then eyed Dongmin and said, “Yeah. That’s a good idea. See what the competition is like.”

Too late, Dongmin realized he’d walked right into that. He’d turned down Myungjun and Jinwoo’s invitations for dinner and drinks every night this week, since he disagreed with their suggestion that he needed a change of pace to get out of his funk.

Come out with us, meet new people, forget about Moon Bin, Myungjun had said.

Dongmin didn’t want to forget about Moon Bin.

“I hear they make different stuff from you, so you probably won’t be too competitive,” Chaeyoung said.

Dongmin squared his shoulders. He was always up for some competition. “We’ll see.”

Sure enough, after the lunch rush, they flipped the sign on the front door to closed and added a note — in Dongmin’s handwriting; his was the prettiest — that they’d be back in an hour, and they shed their aprons and washed their hands, and off they went.

They found a discarded flyer for Moonbeams Bakery right as they stepped out the front door.

Jinwoo stooped and scooped it up, smoothed it out. 

“Looks like more simple fare than what we make,” he said.

Myungjun peered over his shoulder. “Pretty basic stuff — cookies, muffins, sandwich bread.”

“Bet none of them were trained in France,” Dongmin said. He studied the address. It was close by indeed.

This would definitely take his mind off of Moon Bin. If there was a rival in town, Dongmin was determined to take them down.

Together, the three of them headed for the bakery, checking the address on the flyer multiple times.

Moonbeams Bakery looked like it was doing a brisk business. It had baby blue and lavender striped awning, and a massive banner hanging from the awning proclaimed the grand opening. Plenty of people were lingering outside, and also popping over from the cafe just next door.

The bakery was crowded enough that Dongmin and his coworkers had to hang back a bit before some people exited, and then they stepped in, and —

Hang on. Dongmin recognized the two young men behind the counter. They were the ones who’d come in on Wednesday to pick up the birthday cake for Bin’s sister.

According to the nametags on their uniform jackets, the tall man was Yoon Sanha, and the shorter man was Park Minhyuk.

Sanha was ringing people up while Minhyuk was boxing up brightly-decorated cupcakes and flashing a dimpled smile.

“Is that who I think it is?” Jinwoo asked in a low voice.

Minhyuk called out, “Hyung, where are those cinnamon rolls?”

Dongmin recognized his voice. He’d been the one to answer Bin’s phone when Dongmin had called. Bin’s boyfriend. No wonder he’d come in to get the cake.

But if he was a baker, why had he bought a cake from another bakery?

Probably because he was busy getting this place ready to open. Dongmin would be the first to admit that the place smelled heavenly. He scanned the items in the glass cases, considering the prices versus how much it cost to produce the buns and rolls and cookies and fresh loaves.

“Who do you think it is?” Myungjun whispered back to Jinwoo.

There were discounts on a lot of the pastries, and Moonbeams boasted a deal with the cafe next door, for a ten percent discount on pastries if someone had a receipt from the cafe the same day as a pastry purchase. In fact, Moonbeams was advertising mini eclairs that would go really well with the cafe’s brew of the day. The eclairs were arranged prettily on a paper doily on a glass platter on top of the counter.

There was a rainbow array of donuts, multiple varieties of cookies, some with frosting jobs that looked like lace or henna tattoos and rainbow seashells in colors that matched the awning outside.

Yoon Sanha smiled at Dongmin. “Welcome to Moonbeams! What would you like to sweeten your day?”

It was a cute catch phrase, and Sanha’s smile was boyish and sweet, made him look incredibly young.

Dongmin opened his mouth to ask for one of the seashell sugar cookies, and then he heard Moon Bin say,

“Fresh cinnamon rolls, coming through!”

Dongmin stared as Bin stepped out of the back, wearing a neat chef’s uniform, carrying a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls. He stepped past Minhyuk with a deftness born of long experience and familiarity and slid the tray into the case, then straightened up and dusted his hands off, expression satisfied.

“Bin-ssi?” Dongmin asked.

Bin looked over at him, and his eyes went wide.

Sanha said, with suspicious innocence, “You want Bin-hyung to sweeten your day?”

Dongmin stared at Bin, at the flour dusting his jacket, and how comfortable he looked in his uniform, and he replayed every single conversation they’d had, and he realized.

Bin had come to Silver & Sunshine to check out the competition, and Dongmin, stupidly, had spilled the beans about everything, about his baking techniques, about — 

Dongmin spun on his heel and strode out of the shop. Jinwoo and Myungjun followed.

Dongmin made it halfway down the block before he stumbled to a stop, heart pounding. Bin hadn’t liked Dongmin at all or even really been interested in baking. He already knew all about baking (which, okay, then he really was interested in baking). But Bin had just been a spy.

Hurt and betrayal welled up in Dongmin’s chest, and he pressed a hand to his heart, struggling to breathe.

“Hey,” Jinwoo said, putting a careful hand on Dongmin’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“No,” Dongmin choked out. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? I thought he liked me, but he was just — he was a spy.”

“Maybe not,” Myungjun said. “I mean, of course he’d come check us out, we’re the competition, but look at what they sold. Totally different stuff. Different style, different vibe.”

“He never told me he knew how to bake,” Dongmin said. “I rambled at him like an idiot. He probably thinks I’m so dumb and gullible, right?”

“No, not at all,” Bin said.

Dongmin spun around.

Bin stood on the pavement, expression cautious. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said. “But I promise I wasn’t a spy. I just — will you give me a chance? To explain.”

“Why should I?” Dongmin demanded.

“I know you have no reason to,” Bin said, “but. Please.” He bit his lip, and he looked hurt and sad, and Dongmin’s traitorous heart fluttered.

No. Bin was the traitor.

It was Myungjun who said, “Just hear him out. Be the bigger man. What could it hurt?”

Bin said, “I was going to come tell you. I really was. But with my sister’s birthday and then the grand opening I’ve been crazy busy —”

“What about your boyfriend?” Dongmin demanded.

Bin looked confused. “My what? I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“He answered the phone when you were in the shower when I called,” Dongmin said. “Park Minhyuk.”

“Minhyukie isn’t my boyfriend,” Bin said. “He’s just my friend, my coworker, and one of my roommates. Minhyukie and Sanha-ya and I all live together. Minhyuk likes to answer my phone to troll telemarketers, but — why do you care if I have a boyfriend?”

Dongmin bit his lip. 

“See?” Jinwoo said quietly. “Listen to him.”

Dongmin crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Chapter Text

Bin could feel Dongmin’s coworkers staring at him as they stood at the entrance of the alley behind the bakery. He swallowed hard and resisted the urge to scratch the side of his neck. Usually he was so proud to wear his uniform, but today he felt — guilty.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Bin said. “That first day, I did come in to check out the competition. But I kept coming back because — because of you.”

“What about me?” Dongmin demanded.

Bin swallowed hard. He had nothing to lose. He was pretty sure that no matter what he said today, he’d never see Lee Dongmin again, at least not in any way other than by coincidence. The only thing to do was be honest.

“Because I like you,” he said softly.

Dongmin’s expression turned uncertain, but then he tightened his jaw. “You asked me how to make puff pastry, but clearly you know how.”

Bin felt his face flame. “I — I say stupid things when I’m around handsome men, okay? It just came out of my mouth.”

Dongmin looked skeptical.

“When you talk about baking, your whole face lights up, you know? You look happy, and I totally understand that,” Bin said. “But also you looked so beautiful, and also your pastries are amazing. So I kept coming back. To see you. And eat your amazing pastries.”

Dongmin continued to look skeptical.

“Minhyukie and Sanha scolded me so much for spending money on the competition, and also for ordering Sua’s cake from you. It was delicious, by the way,” Bin said. He took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry I lied to you. I just — I really like you and your pastries, and I couldn’t stay away even though I knew what I was doing was weird and wrong.”

“Liking me and my pastries isn’t weird and wrong,” Dongmin said, and immediately blushed.

“I’m so sorry, for what it’s worth,” Bin said. He sighed. 

“He was sad when you stopped coming in,” Myungjun called from the mouth of the alley, and Dongmin’s blush turned brighter.

“Hyung!” he hissed.

Hope unfurled in Bin’s chest. “Really?”

“He moped,” Jinwoo said, grinning.

“I did not,” Dongmin protested. “But I — I did miss you when you didn’t come in.”

“I was so busy getting Moonbeams ready for opening, and then also Sua’s birthday, and — and I was afraid I’d never get to come back, once we opened, since we’re pretty much on the same hours,” Bin said.

Dongmin said, “I’d have been heartbroken if you never came back in again.”

“Really?”

“I like you too,” Dongmin said. “That’s why — that’s why I was so upset earlier.”

Bin’s heart soared. He took a step closer. “Do you mean it? You’re not just messing with me?”

“Like you messed with me?”

“I wasn’t messing with you,” Bin protested, but the amusement in Dongmin’s eyes was tempered with fondness.

“I know,” Dongmin said, and stepped even closer. 

Bin’s heart started to race. He said, “Am I forgiven?”

“Only if you compensate me for the distress you caused,” Dongmin said.

Bin swallowed hard. “What can I possibly do to satisfy you?”

“Kiss me,” Dongmin said.

Bin leaned in and closed his eyes. Dongmin met him halfway.

The kiss was warm and soft and sweet and far too brief, but then Bin opened his eyes and Dongmin was gazing right at him, and Bin had to kiss him again. Dongmin wrapped his arms around Bin, and Bin could feel both of their hearts beating fast. Kissing Dongmin was better than Bin could ever have imagined. His lips were soft and full and he tasted like confectioner’s sugar and warmth, and Bin totally ignored Myungjun and Jinwoo snickering in the background.

When they parted for air, Dongmin whispered, “Promise you and Moonbeams will fight hard to be the best bakery in the neighborhood.”

“Promise Silver & Sunshine will do the same,” Bin whispered back, and Dongmin nodded.

“Now,” Dongmin said, stepping back, “I think it’s only fair that I get to try some of your pastries, after you tried so many of mine.” 

Bin nodded. Dongmin held his hand out, and Bin took it, and together they headed back into Moonbeams.

Myungjun said, “You know he totally made those pastries specifically for you, the apple tarts and cheesecakes.”

Bin turned to Dongmin. “Really?”

Dongmin blushed so prettily. “Yeah.”

“But you said --”

“I also say stupid things around handsome men.”

“Hyung,” Minhyuk said as they stepped into the front of the shop, “did you kiss and make up?”

His smirk was smug, but Bin just rolled his eyes.

“What do you think I’d like?” Dongmin asked.

Myungjun went up to the counter and asked Sanha for a bear claw and a lemon blueberry muffin for himself and Jinwoo.

Bin said, “How about a sugar cookie?” He pointed.

The sugar cookies were shaped like hearts and decorated with a delicate filigree of frosting.

“Sounds perfect,” Dongmin said, and Bin squeezed his hand. 

To Minhyuk, Dongmin said, “Two sugar cookies, please.”

Minhyuk nodded and picked two, put them in a little paper bag decorated with the Moonbeams logo (a golden moon with a purple cartoon wolf cub and blue beagle puppy howling at it).

Dongmin paid and accepted the cookies, and he took one out of the bag, took a bite. His eyes slipped closed, and Bin couldn’t stop looking at his mouth while he chewed.

“Perfect,” Dongmin said. “Couldn’t have made one better myself.”

He opened his eyes, then held the other cookie out to Bin. 

“Ew,” Sanha said. 

“Shut up,” Bin said easily, and accepted the cookie, took a bite. “It is delicious.”

“Thanks, I made them myself,” Minhyuk said, and Myungjun and Jinwoo laughed.

“By the way, I’m Park Jinwoo,” he said, and bowed to Minhyuk. “I think we’ll be seeing each other a lot from here on out.”

Minhyuk bowed and introduced himself in return, but Bin tuned him out, because he was watching Dongmin enjoy the cookie, his eyes crinkling into a smile.

“This is all very sweet,” Myungjun said, “but we have to get back to our bakery now.”

Jinwoo tugged on Dongmin’s shoulder, and Dongmin let go of Bin’s hand reluctantly.

“See you after work?” Dongmin asked.

Bin nodded. “See you after.”

The three of them left the bakery, and Bin turned to his coworkers.

“Um. Well. Wow.”

“Don’t make out in here. It’s unhygienic,” Minhyuk said, and headed back into the kitchen to make a batch of mini apple tarts.

Sanha said, “Congratulations, hyung. Now we have to crush them.”

Bin headed back behind the counter, considering all the recipes he knew. “We’ll do our best.”

Two months later.

“What are you doing here?” Bin asked, as he stood at the door behind the homeless shelter. He was carrying a box of day-old pastries.

“Same as you, I suspect,” Dongmin said. He was also carrying a box of pastries with the Silver & Sunshine logo on it.

The back door opened, and Father Jooheon poked his head out.

“Well, it’s going to be a blessed day today. Moonbeams and Silver & Sunshine are here to grace us with their surplus.” He grinned at them, sweet and beaming, and they handed over the boxes.

“Hope we don’t see you tomorrow,” Bin said, because he always wanted Moonbeams to sell out.

“Same,” Dongmin said, and he grabbed Bin’s hand and squeezed.

“Always grateful, gentlemen,” Father Jooheon called after them as they walked away. 

“Now what?” Dongmin asked.

Bin grinned at him. “Your place or mine?”

“I have no roommates,” Dongmin reminded him.

Bin sped up. “Let’s go.”

Dongmin hurried after him, laughing.

On Dongmin’s doorstep, they greeted each other with after-work kisses that were sweet with sugar, and then they tumbled inside.

“Who’s making dinner?” Dongmin asked between kisses as he worked the buttons on Bin’s chef jacket.

Bin said, “Rock paper scissors later,” and dragged Dongmin to the bedroom.

Several hours later, Jinwoo, Myungjun, Minhyuk, and Sanha showed up at the door with dinner in tow.

“You have a kiss bruise on your neck,” Minhyuk said, looking totally unimpressed. “But I don’t care what you’ve been doing as long as you didn’t do it where we’re going to be sitting.”

“We would never,” Bin said, letting them into the apartment.

“Oh they totally would,” Myungjun said. “Dongminnie’s a prince on the street but a freak in the --”

Jinwoo clamped a hand over his mouth and smiled at Minhyuk. “I’m sure the den and dining table are perfectly free of love germs.”

Dongmin emerged from the bedroom, wearing Bin’s shirt, and Bin’s heart fluttered.

“Sales today were killer, by the way,” Sanha said.

“Yes, ours were,” Dongmin said airily, and the others laughed.

The teams from Moonbeams and Silver & Sunshine sat together around the table and shared one of Minhyuk’s new experimental pizzas, and they talked and laughed, and Bin knew that he and his friends were headed for, well, if not happily ever after, at least sweetly ever after.