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Just as Harry’s tossing a container of lemon curd into a bag with a raspberry scone, the phone on the counter vibrates loudly. His smile glows a bit brighter as he hands the bag to the half awake woman at the front of the line and greets the next customer. The vibrations let him know the time is 6:45 – only five more minutes to wait. The daily flippy-floppy feeling reaches his stomach, and he wipes his suddenly moist hands over the pink apron tied around his waist.
At 6:50am the door opens with a soft chime, and the line grows by one person. Harry doesn’t have to look up to know it’s SAM – Sexy Ass Man is right on time.
As usual when SAM’s at the back of the line, the next few customers seem to hem-and-haw over the bakery case, taking their sweet time making decisions. Normally that isn’t a problem. He likes getting to know people and giving them suggestions, but when SAM’s in line, Harry has zero patience.
Four people get their breakfast pastries and caffeinated beverages, and then it’s That Moment. SAM steps forward, tilts his beautiful head to the right, softly smiles and says, “Morning.” and Harry’s done for the day.
Hang his apron up, turn off all the ovens, clean the mixing bowls, he’s done for the day. If he didn’t have a business to run, he’d go home right then and start waiting for the next 6:50am.
He tries to limit his smile toward SAM, always conscious that his “I absolutely love you” face can come across a bit creepy, and asks, “The usual?”
Because here’s the thing: One year, two months, and six days ago, SAM walked into the bakery for the first time. It was one of those dreary mornings, full of fog and frowns. Harry had placed all the happy pastries closest to the register, hoping some orange ginger muffins or lemon blueberry tartlets would cheer up everyone’s mood. It wasn’t citrus that changed the day around for Harry, though. Nope, it was a man with dark, swoopy hair, wearing a perfectly tailored grey suit with navy piping, and rich, dark brown brogues, who altered everything - him and his apparent love for chocolate croissants and tea to-go with a splash of milk.
Every single week day from then on, SAM’s come to the bakery at the exact same time, ordered the exact same thing, paid with cash, and walked right out of Harry’s life for another twenty-four hours.
Harry spent the first six months formulating a plan to break the ice. He found himself staying late to help clean, and coming in early to experiment with new flavors. His employees thought he’d rededicated himself to the business, but every extra hour spent at the bakery was thinking time. He needed something cheesy, but brilliant, sultry but polite. A phrase that screamed, “YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL AND EVENTUALLY WE SHOULD GET MARRIED” but wouldn’t frighten SAM away.
It was basically impossible. After throwing out “I think you have a crush on my croissant” as an option, he sidelined the ice breaking idea and decided to live in the moment. That Moment. That’s when he’d made the vibrating alarm, and embraced a long term plan – eventually he’d talk to SAM, eventually he’d make a move. This was a slow build, slow burn, kind of situation.
SAM nods and says a quiet “Sure, mate,” as Harry places a chocolate croissant in a small paper bag, and turns to pour hot water in a to-go cup. He sighs, a little sad That Moment is almost over. It’s a Friday and there’ll be two more 6:50ams before SAM will be back.
A few seconds later, pastry bag, to-go drink, and a shot of milk in hand, SAM leaves the bakery. Harry does his best to be cheerful with the next few customers, but it’s not his fault if it doesn’t feel all the way genuine for at least an hour.
**
He typically doesn’t work weekends, trusting his staff to bake all the delicacies and keep people happy. That’s why Friday night finds him down at the pub with Niall and Liam. It’s late, and Harry’s probably had a few too many beers.
“He looked at me like I solved all the problems in the world, when all I did was restart his computer!” Liam rolls his eyes and shrugs, “I’m not pissed about it, I just think his standards are way too low.”
“Mate, take the praise where you can get it. I’m all here for people with low standards,” Niall says as he waves for another round of pints. “Makes life a little more interesting.”
They banter for another half hour or so before Niall puts on his serious face. “How was SAM this morning, H? Bright and bubbly as usual?”
Harry can feel the blush creep over his face, but it’s absolutely from the beers. “Just fine, thanks. Hey, whatever happened with your neighbor’s dog? Did they get the keys out of him?”
“No, no, no, Harold, we’re talking about you right now. It’s been ages, mate. You have to talk to him or move on.”
“Okay pushy, I can do what I want as long as I’m happy.” He takes another drink of his beer as Liam toasts his support Harry’s way. They’ve been over this a hundred times in the last year.
“’m not tryin’ to be pushy, I just want to know how it all ends. Have’ta start writing my best man speech and everything,” Niall says with a laugh.
“Excuse you, no. He told me about SAM first, I’m clearly the best man,” Liam says, jokingly (but not so jokingly) affronted at Niall’s assumption.
“I’ll be lucky if either one of you ever get to be a chaperone on the first date at the rate things are going.” Harry takes a sip of beer and pretends not to notice the sad looks his friends give him.
“Okay, no, I’m not gonna let you do this anymore. We have to figure out a way for you to get SAM.” Niall slaps the table for emphasis. “Let’s scheme, boys.”
**
It’s Monday, and Harry is nervous. The butterflies have been migrating from one corner of his stomach to the other since Friday night, but now they’ve upped their pace. He’s just about to consider gracefully bowing out of register duty and spending the morning throwing up in the bathroom when the first customer of the day walks in.
He settles into the rhythm of the bakery until he hears the vibrations of his alarm. Five minutes.
When SAM walks in, there’s no line. He steps right up to the register and smiles, tilts his head to the right and says, “Morning.”
It takes everything in Harry’s power not to reply with “The usual?” Instead he follows the plan.
“Hey, yeah, morning. We’re… um… well… we’re starting a competition today. If you drop your business card in this jar, at the end of the week we’ll…” Harry pauses as he realizes SAM’s already pulling out his wallet. “um… draw a card and the winner will…” SAM doesn’t even wait, he’s already dropped his card into the jar. It’s made of thick cardstock the color of vanilla cream with a dark blue logo and gold lettering. Harry has to physically restrain himself from grabbing the card. “yeah, so, thanks for that. The winner will get a free catered breakfast for their office… so… yeah… hope you win, mate.” He should just run away now. This was terrible.
“Right, wicked. Thanks. That’d be buzzin’.” SAM says with an actual, real smile on his face.
The rest of the transaction goes per usual, and the second SAM walks out the door Harry makes sure no one at the few tables in the bakery is looking at him. He sneakily he pulls the card out of the jar.
This is huge. SAM’s about to have a real name. He takes a deep breath, but it’s not enough. He can’t do it. It’s been over a year of seeing him every morning, fantasizing about him at night, and calling him SAM nonstop. What if his name’s awful and doesn’t go with his beautiful face? What if he works for some terrible company that displaces children and harms kittens?!
He grabs an éclair with blood orange crème out of the case and walks back to the kitchen. “Maddie, take over the register. I need some time in the office.” Harry says as he marches straight into the small closet he calls his hub and plops into the chair. Closing the door with his foot, he leans back, takes a bite of the pastry, and considers his options.
There really aren’t many. He can throw the card away and continue living Moment to Moment, or he can activate part two of the Grand Romantic Gesture Scheme and write down SAM’s information as the winner.
He slaps the card on the desk, moves his hand away, takes a deep breath, and looks down.
The card is upside down.
“Oh for fucks sake,” he murmurs and turns the card over.
The first thing Harry sees is the company name – Believe in Magic. In the very next second, SAM has a name – Louis Tomlinson.
Louis. Tomlinson.
Louis.
Lou.
L.
Beautiful.
It’s impossible to keep the smile off his face. He’d been so nervous to learn anything new about SA, er, Louis, but now he can feel an energy coursing through him. He needs to know everything.
He opens his browser and searches for Believe in Magic, and almost starts crying. Of course Louis founded a charity. Of course it helps sick children. His Louis couldn’t possibly be a better person.
He practically floats through the rest of the day, and when he gets home he shouts for Niall.
“I’ve found him. He’s the one. I’ve known it forever, but Niall he’s really the one.”
“Okay drama, I need details.” Niall drags Harry by the shirt to the couch and listens to the morning story. It doesn’t take very long considering it’s basically just telling him SAM has a real name and is an actual Angel On Earth.
“Alright champ, just keep it together until Friday morning. I’m so proud of you for completing phase one,” Niall grins and wraps Harry up in a hug. “You did so good. That Louis better watch out. He’s got a love train comin’ right at him.”
“Oh my god, Niall. A love train?!” Harry throws his head back and cackles.
**
The rest of the week passes without too many memorable moments. A man demanded a refund after breaking open a chili and chocolate lava cake and claimed it wasn’t baked, and a toddler threw the icing off a salted caramel and peach cupcake, hitting Harry right in the face with his signature butter cream. It was just another week in the bakery.
Louis came in every morning, placed his order, and left, but he smiled more now, even said the occasional, “Have a great day, mate.” It was a small victory, and Harry was living it up. Louis’ smiles fueled him all day, and Niall reaped the reward with homemade dinners and an extra affectionate roommate.
It was Thursday afternoon, though, and the moment had come to call the “winner of the competition.” Harry actually felt a little bad. So many people had dropped their cards into the jar, and they never stood a chance at winning. He vowed to do the drawing again after he and Louis were all loved up, and play it fair next time.
He pulled the card out of his desk drawer and, with shaky hands, dialed the number.
“This is Louis.”
He knew it was the French pronunciation. Niall could suck it. “Hiiiiii Louis. This is Harry at You & Icing. I um..”
“Oh hey.” Harry heard a smile in Louis’ voice.
“Yeah, hey, look, you um… that competition we’re having? For the catered breakfast?”
“Mmhmm”
“Well, um, yeah, you… I drew your card out of the jar. Congratulations!” Harry rolled his eyes at himself and willed his natural charm and wittiness to kick into effect.
“Buzzin’! I never win anything,” Louis said with an adorable laugh. “So breakfast is on you tomorrow, then, eh?”
Harry chuckled and tried to sound casual, “It’s on me. How many chocolate croissants should I bring over?”
“Ah naw, Harry, bring an assortment. I’ll hide all the croissants from the team and let them fight over everything else.”
“Sure, sure, alright. I’ll bring enough for fifty?” Harry wished there was some way to throw an innuendo into the conversation, but he was just happy to be talking to Louis… on the phone… in his office… after 6:50am.
“Yeah, that’d be great if you don’t mind. We only have a twenty person staff, but the little ones will love the sweets.”
Harry could actually die.
“Great. I’ll deliver everything tomorrow around 8. It’ll be late for your breakfast, but I think you can make it.” He rolled his eyes again. His flirting game was leaving everything to be desired.
“I’ll wait for those croissants for as long as I have to. They’re the reason I get out of bed in the morning.”
Then again…
“That’s… um… thank you. That’s sweet. I’ll make sure to toss an extra one in the box just for you.” The blush on Harry’s face was record breaking. World record breaking blush happening while on the phone with Louis Tomlinson, founder of children’s charity Believe in Magic, and lover of Harry’s croissants.
“Thanks for that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And Louis was off the phone.
If Harry squealed and kicked his legs in the air after tossing his phone on the desk, no one needed to know.
He got to the bakery a few hours earlier than normal to make sure the prize winnings were baked to perfection. It wasn’t too many more than their normal morning bake, but Harry wanted his hands in every dough, every filling, and every decoration that went on those pastries. He justified it with murmurings of “could cater their future events” and “need to impress” but it was all obviously for Louis.
By 7:30 the bakery van was loaded up with boxes of goodies, and Harry set off for the Believe in Magic office. He pretended it was just another delivery because even starting to think about seeing Louis outside of the bakery would make him drive the van off the road.
He found the nondescript building and parked. The butterflies were back in full force. He really should name them all since they were such a constant presence in his life - maybe something like Flutter, Fab, and Flouncy.
After gathering the courage to walk inside, he maneuvered the cart he borrowed from the receptionist out to the van and started loading it up. As he lifted the third box, a voice came from behind him. “Please tell me an entire box is chocolate croissants.”
Harry grinned and turned around. Louis was closer to him than he’d anticipated, and the box in his hands slammed into Louis’ chest.
“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” Harry tossed the box on the cart and pressed his hands on Louis’ chest. His hands. On Louis’ chest. Oh God. “Sorry, sorry, I’m clumsy and jittery and generally make a mess of situations. Not unlinke this. Okay I’m gonna stop touching you now,” and he took a step back.
Louis was laughing, a light, airy laugh that bubbled up and overflowed like frothy milk for a cappuccino. “No worries, Harry. I’m okay,” He rubbed the area Harry’s hands had just touched.
“Erm, so actually, yeah, one of these boxes is for you. Let me just…” Harry turned around and looked through the remaining boxes, searching for the one he’d marked. “Here you go. Just for you.” He shuffled on one foot to give the box over, but Louis had stepped even closer than before. Either he didn’t know what a personal space bubble was or he didn’t mind theirs intertwining. Harry wasn’t about to complain.
“Yum, thanks. What’s the…? Is that a heart?” Louis asked. He ran his fingers over the gold inked symbol on the corner of the box, and looked up at Harry with soft eyes and half raised eyebrows. Harry was so screwed.
He puffed out a little breath. “Yeah. I um, I had to make sure I knew which was yours.” The blush was back in full force. Harry could feel it moving all over his face and down his chest. Great. Wonderful. Of course he decided to do only the bottom three buttons on his shirt today. Nothing like having the chest blush on full display for maximum embarrassment.
“Sweet,” came the soft reply. Harry was sure the blush had finally reached his toes. “So yeah, how about we get these things inside and feed the masses? How can I help you?” Louis was so nice. Nicest person in the world.
Together they loaded the cart and wheeled it into the employee break room. It was empty for the moment, and Harry took the opportunity to set up the electric kettle he’d brought along.
“You brought tea too?”
“Yeah, you need your full breakfast, right?” Toe blush activate.
“This is so nice of you. Thank you for taking the time.” Louis appeared out of nowhere and put his hand on Harry’s arm.
“You won the drawing. It comes with full service.” He shrugged. Ha, innuendo! Harry wasn’t completely sure, but it looked like Louis’ cheeks tinged a bit pink.
“How much longer do you need to set up? I could go gather the crowd.”
Harry told him to give him a few more minutes and everything would be ready. As Louis left the room, Harry watched him, and smiled as Louis looked back before walking out the door.
They had real chemistry. There was really something there.
**
The employees started shuffling in shortly after that, piling their plates with lavender donuts filled with apricot preserves, chocolate and orange rugelach, goat cheese scones, flakey apple and salted caramel turnovers, and walnut and gooey syrup coated sticky buns. Harry made sure no one missed the kettle or small coffee station he’d set up. Breakfast was best served with a splash of caffeine.
The entire time his staff munched away, Louis walked around chatting with everyone. He made sure they were all having a good time, and kept reminding everyone they had Harry and You & Icing to thank for the treats. When people started leaving the room, hyped up on sugar and smiling, Louis approached Harry.
“Seriously, thank you. This was so much fun. We don’t get together like that very much as a staff.”
Harry shrugged, “You won the drawing. You should be thanking your past self for dropping that card in the jar.”
Louis chuckled. “Thanks, past me.” He walked over to look over the remaining pastries. “The kids will go wild for these, Harry.”
“I’m so glad.” He took a few steps, moving back into Louis’ personal space bubble. “I know you’re partial to croissants, but my sticky buns are kind of amazing.” He picked one out of the box and placed it on a napkin, sucking the side of his thumb into his mouth without thinking. Louis’ eyes narrowed as they watched the movement.
“You’re trying to get me branch out to something new? Croissant sacrilege.” Louis said teasing, just loud enough for Harry to hear. “I know what’s really going on here.”
Harry stopped trying to pick up the napkin. “Um, what?”
Louis inched closer, glancing down at the innocent baked good sitting on the table. “You want me to eat your buns.” He looked up at the end of the accusation. The butterflies in Harry’s stomach migrated to his throat, blocking air and everything but Louis.
“I do. I…. I really do.” Harry sighed. It was out there now. The ball was officially in Louis’ court.
Louis opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the receptionist barging in at the worst possible moment. Apparently Louis was needed in a meeting.
The tension flew out of the room and Harry’s butterflies went back to their home. He took a step away, feeling cold air flow between them.
“I’ll pack up the kettle and coffee, and, um, I guess I’ll see you Monday morning. Enjoy the croissants.” Harry said with a smile plastered on his face.
“Yeah, um, okay sure. I’ll be there.” He smirked and walked toward the door. “See you soon, Harry. Thanks again,” and with that, Louis stepped out the door and out of Harry’s life for another two 6:50ams.
**
Once he made it back to the bakery, Harry almost considered going home. Nothing could top that morning, and he was so happy, but… he wanted more.
He’d fantasized about Louis for over a year, dreamed of their life together so many times he couldn’t even count. Now it was real, though. Now there was something tangible, some actual flirting and chemistry had happened, and he wasn’t ready to go back to living for That Moment every morning.
He sank into the desk chair and closed his eyes. He’d have to ask Louis out. That was the only thing…
“Harry, sorry love, there’s a phone call for ya.” Maddie handed him the cordless.
“Thanks.” He sighed and gathered his professional voice. “This is Harry. Are you interested in a custom order?” He shuffled papers around hunting for the special form he’d made for these situations.
“Actually no. I’m calling about some buns?” the voice said.
“Buns. Okay sure. Our standard sticky bun or do you want me to make you something special?” He couldn’t find that form anywhere. Tomorrow he had to go to the office supply store and buy more organizers.
“Just one special set.”
“They actually come in a dozen so…”
“Harry, it’s me.”
“Me?”
“No, me. Louis.”
Harry fell out of his chair.
“Louis?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re calling about buns?”
“Erm, yeah.”
“A special set?”
“Are you gonna make me start over? I’m trying to be coy”
“No, yes, no, coy?”
Louis’ laugh lit Harry’s soul on fire. “You’re amazing. Wanna meet for sticky buns and coffee when you’re done at work?”
Harry kind of wished he could fall out of his chair again. “Actually, you know what I could really go for right now?”
“Mmmm tell me.”
“Spicy sausage.”
It takes two dates before they realize there's no going back - they're in it for the long haul.
Six months later, they make it official with matching croissant tattoos.