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Like dough, Thatch rose every morning out of bed, ready to start a new day in his bakery. The place was his baby, his biggest treasure, his home . It was the first place where he felt like settling down, before he had been constantly traveling. He’d watched strangers become friends before becoming strangers all over again once he’d waved them goodbye as he sailed into his next adventure. Thatch liked it like that. The world was vast and he wanted to see it all – learn a new recipe wherever he went, serve food until stomachs and hearts were full. Thatch always felt like he left a piece of himself wherever he went, trading it for contemporary happiness.
It wasn't until he set foot on this island, this small town in the middle of nowhere with its colorful houses and the gentle breeze carrying muffled music through the small alleys, that something within him settled. As if a piece that he’d long been searching for slotted into place. When he saw the FOR SALE sign in front of the abandoned small house with ivy climbing up its walls and the huge shop window that he knew: This. This is it.
Thatch signed the contract the very same day, trusting his gut, and went to work. The house came with a small flat on the top floor and some furniture the previous tenant had left. He unpacked his few belongings and it felt like coming home. The shop downstairs needed some more love, so he bought two buckets of paint; a bright yellow that reminded him of sunshine and egg yolk before he began to give the facade a new shine. Thatch was chatty with everyone who passed by. He had a natural charm to him that no one could resist.
Well, no one except the pastry chef from across the street.
Izou glared at the stranger from behind his counter, clenching his fists. Who did this guy think he was? Showing up here out of nowhere with that big, silly pompadour, shirt unbuttoned obscenely low for a chef, sleeves rolled up exposing – was that a sea king bite!? And he was planning to open a lousy bakery? Across from his elegant pastry shop? Izou had a feeling that this was going to be bad for his business and his heart rate…
Thatch could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he felt someone try to burn a hole into his back. He dabbed his sweaty face with his handkerchief and turned around, the paintbrush dripping yellow still in his other hand. Brown eyes met those of the most handsome man he had ever laid eyes on and his heart –his silly old heart– seriously did a leap in his chest and for a second he forgot to breathe. With the painted lips, and his silky, dark hair in an updo, surrounded by the most beautiful pastries Thatch had ever seen, the man looked like a painting from old times, a beauty radiating a threatening elegance.
Thatch waved, splattering tiny drops of paint on his face and clothes. He gave the handsome stranger a huge smile that was returned with a frown and a bone chilling glare that could have shot people right on the spot. Not Thatch though. If anything, his interest in the new neighbor only sparked more.
The baker spent the rest of the day on renovations and slowly he could see his vision come together. The sun was already setting when he packed up for the night and he heard some keys rattling behind him. Thatch glanced over his shoulder to see the handsome man from earlier with the intense eyes that were now once more pinned on him, radiating the energy of a wild cat hunting for prey.
“Closing up for today, huh?” Thatch wiped his dirty hands on a towel before he threw it over his shoulder, holding out his hand. “I’m Thatch, by the way.”
The pastry chef regarded him critically, his eyes lingering on the outstretched hand with disdain, arms crossed in front of his chest. He rolled his eyes once he realized Thatch wouldn’t put his hand down unless he shook it.
“Izou.” Reluctantly he took the hand of the stranger, ready to pull away in a heartbeat. What he didn’t expect was the bright smile that Thatch shot him, his large hand wrapping tight around Izou’s, placing his other onto it as well and locking him into what felt like a bear trap. The baker’s hands were calloused but to Izou’s surprise very warm, making his own slender hand disappear completely in between them.
“ Izou … pleasure to meet you.” Thatch liked how the stranger’s name sounded coming from his mouth and how it rolled over his lips almost the same way you would blow a kiss to someone.
He shook Izou’s hand enthusiastically, part of him not wanting to let go –not just yet– but the deathly glare he received from the other spoke volumes. Thatch laughed softly before he pulled back his hands, placing them on his hips as he watched Izou huff and turn his back to him as he walked away.
While Thatch took a shower to unwind, Izou stood in the supermarket, staring at produce and wondering why his thoughts were racing, not yet realizing that it was fate. Once home, having forgotten half of the things he wanted to buy, Izou accidentally peeped on his new neighbor who clearly hadn’t invested in any form of privacy shields yet...
Izou could easily see how Thatch could be considered handsome. The impressive pompadour from earlier was gone and long brown hair fell into his face and over the countless scars that marked his body. And those eyes… who now happened to meet his as Thatch suddenly looked up and made Izou hurriedly close the curtains, blush dark on his face.
The following weeks Thatch’s newly opened business started to flourish. On the grand opening day he was sold out within two hours; people from all over town coming to his shop, lured in by the smell of fresh bread and other baked goods. Thatch’s bakery was a one-man-show, doing everything whether it was preparing the dough or chatting over the counter as he sold the still warm loafs to happy customers.
Tapping his foot, Izou stared out of the window. Why were all those people so hungry for simple bread when they could enjoy the finest pastries and chocolates right across the street? Why was everyone leaving this shop with a smile? And why, oh why, did his heart jump in his chest whenever the baker noticed his stern gaze and winked, giving him the warmest smile in return? Izou huffed and rearranged the display for the third time that day, the pastries as scattered as his thoughts.
Seasons changed from cherry blossoms to the sound of cicadas at night, dusk seamlessly shifting into dawn, painting the night sky in the warmest pastel colors. The whole town was busy with preparations for the annual summer festival. People were hanging up garlands from one balcony to the other, building stalls in the marketplace and tailors got busy with adjusting everyone’s yukatas, just in time for the big celebration.
Thatch was excited. Summer had always been his favorite season, he loved the warmth and those long days that never seemed to end, the tingling sensation in the air that anything was possible. It was a season that radiated magic.
There was no doubt that Thatch loved this small town and its people who made him feel welcome from the start. But recently he found himself longing again – not for the vast seas and its adventures, but for a certain someone living across the street whose silhouette he saw every night before he turned his lights off; his long, silky hair falling like waves over his back tattoo when he undid his ornate updo. His glares might be as sharp as a knife, but they did nothing to him except carve Izou’s name all over Thatch’s heart.
Then the night of the town meeting came, where all the details for the summer festival would be announced. To Thatch’s pleasant surprise he had been paired with Izou at the same stall, but just as his eyes were searching the crowd for the pastry chef, he saw Izou sweep out of the room, leaving Thatch on the edge of his seat.
His first instinct was to go after him. But why though? It’s not like Thatch could convince him that this could be fun , all he would get were huffs and eye rolls probably. He wasn’t bummed out about Izou's reaction, by now he knew the pastry chef wasn’t his biggest fan, but part of him still wished they could be something like friends. Friends who glared at each other’s lips...totally not thinking what would happen if they’d crash together…
Still, Thatch fell asleep that night with a pounding heart and body tingling in excitement; knowing the summer would be magical this year.
“Oh no. Oh nooo, no, no, no. Baby, why out of all the times now?”
Thatch groaned, taking a step back from the misery in front of him. He had a dozen trays of unbaked buns and loaves which technically should be inside the oven, if only it hadn’t given up on him the night before the festival. Any attempt to fix it only seemed to make it worse and there was no way he could get anyone around to repair it in time. Baking them in the tiny kitchen of his flat would take ages and he didn’t have time for that. There was only one person he could think of that would be the best to help out but he sure as hell wouldn't be pleased about a nightly visitor…
That was the last thing Thatch needed to worry about right now though. He could see the light still on in Izou’s kitchen, so at least he wouldn’t be disturbing the man's beauty sleep. Thatch grabbed his trays and braced himself for lots of begging and sweet talking before he stepped out into the warm summer night – only to crash into a lithe figure, followed by a sharp hiss as the other person reached for the trays Thatch was balancing in both hands, making sure he didn’t accidentally drop them.
When Thatch focused enough on the stranger, he realized with a start that it was Izou glaring up at him. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a dirty apron around his waist, a contrast to the usual elegant beauty the pastry chef usually radiated. It took a few heartbeats for Thatch to notice that Izou’s hands were still resting on top of his, preventing the buns from dropping to the ground.
Izou didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care because he was already talking, words falling out of his mouth, almost too fast for Thatch to grasp them.
“Flour. And sugar. I’ve run out of everything and my assistants are stuck somewhere out at sea and can’t get here in time because of the tides. Can I borrow some of yours? Also, what the hell are you doing with all this dough out on the streets late at night?”
Thatch’s laugh seemed mocking to Izou, making him raise an eyebrow at him and click his tongue impatiently. Izou’s nerves were already shot, he couldn’t deal with this guy on top of everything else going downhill. Still, the grin Thatch shot him made Izou's stomach twist with sudden nerves.
“So here’s the plan. You can raid my pantry and I get to use your oven in return?”
Once the buns were safely in the oven and Izou had all the ingredients he needed, the two men stood shoulder to shoulder, carefully decorating fresh pastries and small cakes together to make up for the lost time.
“You’re surprisingly good at this.” Izou examined the cookie Thatch was holding in his big hand. He had agreed reluctantly on his help, knowing otherwise he wouldn’t be able to finish everything in time without his assistants. Izou didn’t expect the baker to be so skilled with delicate little details, but Thatch was quick to show him otherwise and soon the boxes for tomorrow were filled with all kinds of goodies.
Thatch felt relief rush over him. Not only because his buns would be baked in time, but also because he got to spend time with Izou for the very first time in private. He noticed how the gaze of the pastry chef softened the more they talked. Thatch learned that Izou’s family had been running the shop for generations and he told the pastry chef all about the seas he had sailed before the town stole his heart. And maybe not just the town…but he didn't mention that part.
Time flew by as they continued talking and working side by side. At one point Thatch’s pompadour gave in and Izou helped him tie his hair in a bun, considering Thatch’s hands were covered in buttercream. He closed his eyes for a second, leaning into the touch of elegant fingers running through his hair with an unexpected gentleness. They didn’t speak for a few minutes afterwards, but Thatch had a feeling something between them had shifted.
The sun had almost risen when they said goodnight and the hug they exchanged lingered a little longer than it probably should have and both felt a tugging on their heartstrings when they finally parted and waved at each other from the other side of the street before they fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of fingers being intertwined like pretzels.
The festival was a resounding success. Familiar faces frequently stopped by, overly excited to see their two favorite shops in town finally combined; showering them in compliments over their products but also how cute they looked together – Izou’s stern face showing no reaction, while Thatch played his charm and laughed it off. However he couldn’t deny that he liked the sound of them being a couple…
Their stall was sold out within a few hours, and Thatch had the honor to try one of Izou’s pastries for the very first time –he had waited to do so until the pastry chef himself offered it to him– humming in excitement over it. Thatch’s heart skipped a beat when Izou reached over to remove a few crumbs from his beard, his gaze particularly soft as his fingertips brushed over the baker’s skin. Thatch couldn’t help but smile – there it was again, the magic of summer nights.
“Do you want to watch the fireworks together? I know a good spot.”
Izou didn’t wait to hear Thatch’s answer nor did he care about packing up the stall, just gestured at him to follow. Thatch did so without hesitation, watching the elegant figure that Izou made making his way through the crowd as his heart drummed in his chest. It drummed even louder when Izou turned around to link their arms, so he wouldn't get lost in the crowd.
They left the main road, walking through narrow alleys and climbed up overgrown stairs, the sounds of the summer festival growing quiet. Soon they stood near a cliff, the vast sea and the starry night sky broad in front of them while behind them laid the small town illuminated in bright colors.
Thatch took it all in. Never had he felt this free and content before. He glanced over to Izou who stood with a tender smile on his lips as he looked over the town, radiating an unexpected calmness. He couldn’t grasp what it was that changed between them, but Thatch sure hoped it would last.
“It’s starting… don’t forget to make a wish!”
Izou’s smile was brighter than any firework could ever be as he reached for Thatch’s hand, intertwining their fingers and that’s when Thatch realized.
Oh.
So this was love. It had been right in front of him all this time. Growing and blooming within him. Turning his heart into warm caramel. A wish? Thatch only had one, he'd had it for a long time now, but he didn’t know if he was allowed to have it; if the universe would grant it or if dreaming had to be enough…
When Izou grabbed him by his yellow scarf the motion snapped him out of his thoughts, eyes wide open and heart pounding a mile a minute. The pastry chef pulled him down to his lips, their softness crashing against his, two souls colliding under the colorful night sky. Thatch couldn’t form a clear thought over the sound of everything inside of him vibrating in joy, knowing no dream could be sweeter than this, laughing softly about how his wish came true at the pace of lightspeed in the tradition of true summertime magic. He wrapped an arm around Izou and pulled him closer, making the kiss unforgettable for the both of them, a memory written in the stars.
When they broke away to catch their breath Izou glared up at Thatch, furrowing his perfectly shaped brows, his long-lasting lipstick slightly smeared, unable to withstand the power of Thatch’s kisses.
“Kiss me more, will you? Never ever stop,” Izou commanded with a frown, seeming almost embarrassed by the words.
Thatch grinned and gently brushed a strand of hair out of Izou’s face, taking in his beauty with the warmest of eyes. He made a promise to the moon and the stars to kiss this man until his heart stopped beating and even beyond that, if the universe would let them live on in another life. Once more Izou broke into his train of thought by tugging at the yellow scarf still in his hands, guiding Thatch back down to his lips, before his hands wandered over Thatch's body, writing a love letter across his skin.