Chapter Text
Jack puts away the last box with a deep sigh. Moving will never be one of his favourite past-times. Too many decisions to be made. At least his mother had helped him pick out the furniture, otherwise he would have been lost in another panic attack before even entering his new apartment.
Change has always been a reason that made Jack’s anxiety flare up, and taking this big step from college hockey to a professional NHL team isn’t going to make anything easier. He turns around checking his surroundings feeling pleased that everything is in order. He has to admit that his mother has a great eye when it comes to furnishing an entire apartment, even though the art she likes has always been of the more questionable kind.
Now that Jack finally allows himself to relax, his stomach protests loudly. He realizes that he hasn’t had anything to eat since breakfast and the clock tells him it’s almost seven in the evening.
Jack is tired and he wants nothing more than go to bed and sleep for a whole week, but not eating wouldn’t do him any good. So he tries to suppress the feeling of utter exhaustion that was about to overcome him for a bit longer.
Signing for the Falconers and moving to Providence meant a big change in his life even if he hasn’t really had the time to go and explore the city. He doesn’t even know where the next grocery store is located. He is definitely not cut out for being an adult on his own. The loneliness starts creeping into his bones, but before the feeling can overtake him, he grabs his wallet, keys, and coat and heads out. Maybe he won’t be scared out of his mind if he pretends that nothing is wrong?
It’s already fairly cold for the beginning of September and Jack misses the Indian Summer that they had the year before. But he’s used to much colder temperatures from his home town anyway, so this shouldn’t be bothering as much as it does. With every breath he takes, the focus that he was missing earlier the focus comes back to him. Letting his mind wander he almost missed the warm lights of a small bakery in front of him.
Taking a chance, he pushes the door open and a cheerful ping greets him. Jack scans his surroundings, aside from a few patrons the bakery is empty. Well, not empty. The display cases are overflowing with baked good of every variation. How on earth is he going to decide on something to order?
“Can I help you with something?” The question snaps Jack out of his thoughts. He hasn’t even realized that he had been staring at the chalkboard menu behind the counter this whole time.
A tiny blond man with a kind smile on his lips is standing right in front of him, his elbows casually resting on top of the glass display.
“I – uh –” Jack inhales deeply. “You could, actually. Help me, that is.” Internally cursing himself for stumbling over the simplest words, Jack braces himself for a snippy response, but the baker only watches him patiently. At least Jack assumes that he is a baker, because he is wearing a white jacket under a patterned apron.
He is truly adorable and Jack swears he can already feel the butterflies starting to take off in his stomach. A glance into the reflective glass tells him that he has a light blush on his cheeks. But that’s only because of the cold outside, right? Jack forces himself to make eye contact with the tiny blond guy behind the display. He has light brown eyes that twinkle even with the bakery's soft lighting, and Jack’s mouth snaps shut, because he can’t handle all of this without hyperventilating.
“You know what? Why don’t you sit over there and I’ll get you a coffee first thing, then you can think about what else you’d like to have.”
Jack registers the slight twang in the guy’s speech and wonders whether or not he comes from the south. Jack moves to a high chair and sits stiffly at the counter across the coffee machine.
“Do you want anything in particular or is black all right?”
“Black with sugar, please.” Jack barely manages to croak out. Tiny blond baker hums to himself, but it’s not a tune that Jack recognizes.
Tiny Blond Guy places the cup gently on the counter in front of Jack, before taking a seat right across him.
“You don’t seem very well. Are you feeling alright?” He asks and Jack takes a sip of his still too hot coffee to avoid answering right away, giving him a little more time to think about a reply.
He settles on a little nod, but then decides to give the tiny blond at least some kind of explanation for his weird behaviour. “I’m sorry. I’m new in town and it’s all a little overwhelming. I’m okay now, I think.”
Jack doesn’t know what has possessed him to spill his guts to a total stranger. The guy doesn’t press any further as Jack sips his coffee. It’s a comfortable silence, accentuated by an elderly couple quietly chatting away at another table but Jack tunes them out completely.
“So, you’re new in town, huh.”
Jack just nods, not able to think of an answer to that statement.
“Welcome.” The man was beaming at Jack. “I’m Eric Bittle. I’m very pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand for Jack to shake. Jack clumsily places his cup back on the table and shakes Eric’s hand.
The touch is warm and comforting and Jack’s concentration slips for the first time in days and all the impressions of his surroundings come flooding in. Jack braces himself for an enormous flood of colour and emotion when he looks up, but it never comes.
He looks at Eric and he only sees his bright brown eyes, the tiny mischievous twinkle, radiating warmth and Jack feels more comfortable than ever. Eric’s aura is pulsing in a pale blue colour, with streaks of honey gold mixed in between. It’s nothing Jack has ever seen before and he can’t help but marvel at the beauty of Eric’s aura.
Too soon Eric lets Jack’s hand go and the colours dim down, but they are still present, pulling Jack into Eric’s ban.
“Jack Zimmermann.”
“Jack Zimmermann.” Eric echoes. “I could swear I’ve heard your name before. But I’m probably mistaken.” He murmurs to himself.
Jack smiles for the first time in days, Eric’s confusion is just so very endearing. Jack knows exactly where Eric has heard his name before, but he is going to let Eric find out on his own conditions.
“Anyway.” Eric interrupts his own train of thought. “You came here to eat. Do you know what I can get you yet, or would you want a recommendation?”
“A recommendation would be nice.”
“Should I pick something for you or …” Eric trails off.
“Surprise me.” Jack says with a smirk on his lips.
Jack watches with great interest when Eric hops down from his chair and makes his way over to the display. He stands there for several moments and Jack wonders if he has forgotten what he wanted to do. Then he rushes off through a door that Jack hasn’t even registered was on the far end of the bakery.
Patiently Jack sips his coffee and waits for Eric to come back. After a few clanks and various other odd noises, Eric appears again, with a plate of steaming hot …
“Apple pie. I’ve got the feeling that you’re a classic kind of guy.” He smiles. “Would you like whipped cream or vanilla ice cream with it? Or both?”
“Apple pie, eh? I’d like some ice cream, please.”
Jack could only barely bite back a moan after he took the first bit, the smooth coolness of ice cream paired with the rich fruity cinnamon-y taste of the pie is magical. Jack’s eyes flutter closed and he revels in the explosion of flavour.
When he opens his eyes again, he can see Eric staring at him, even though he quickly looks away and pretends to busy himself. A few darker streaks of blue pulse through Eric’s aura, but Jack thinks nothing by it.
“This pie is amazing.” Jack compliments.
“I thought you might enjoy it.” Eric says with a small smile.
“You guessed right.” Eric beams at him again, but says nothing more. Jack just sits there, even after he finished his pie, drinking his coffee, enjoying the easy silence. His eyes follow Eric while he wipes down tables, clears them from used plates and cups.
A glance at his watch almost makes Jack jump up from his seat, he has completely forgotten the time and he’s been here longer than he intended. Jack feels a little bad for leaving Eric with his dirty dishes to clean up, but he still has to go grocery shopping before the stores close if he wants to survive the next few days.
He walks up to the register and when Eric is looking up at him, he says: “I need to get going. But I really enjoyed your pie.” He works up the courage and actually manages to send a small, shy smile in Eric’s direction. The smile he receives in return makes it totally worth it. Maybe Jack should try and interact with people more often?
“I’m glad to hear that.” Eric says, his aura brightening, as he rings him up. “You should come back again sometime. It’s always nice to see some new faces around here.”
“Could you point me to the nearest grocery store?” He asks shyly.
“Right, you’re new around here.” Jack does his best to pay attention while Eric quickly explains him how to walk to the grocery store.
“Thank you. You were a great help.” Jack meets Eric’s eyes which are shining brightly in the dim light of the old-fashioned lamps of the bakery.
Jack is amazed when he actually finds the grocery store on the first try. Eric’s directions really did help him, on his own he would have taken much longer to find it, if he would ever have. He goes through the motions of shopping almost mechanically, but the warmth that he felt when he was in the bakery never really left his bones.
This evening Eric locks up the bakery feeling a little light-headed. His thoughts are still with one Jack Zimmermann. He was well-mannered, with freakishly handsome good-looks and had about the bluest eyes Eric has ever seen.To some Jack would have seemed distant and closed off, even a bit arrogant, but not to Eric. He feels like he could see right through all of the walls Jack has put up. The tad of adorable awkwardness that seemed to surround him made him only more desirable in Eric’s eyes. He has to keep a careful eye on his heart if he doesn’t want to lose it to Jack.
He climbs the stairs to his apartment with mixed feelings. Jack had felt so close but so distant at the same time, but then Eric had seen bits and pieces of him before. The moment when he entered the bakery had been burned into his retinas because he had seen flashes of his future, clearly involving Jack in his dreams more often than not.
Jack Zimmermann.
Eric wonders what meaning he has for him. But then he sets a stop to his thoughts and reminds himself that it’s most likely just a coincidence. He can’t set his heart on a stranger of whom he’s dreamt of a few times before actually meeting him. That’s nothing out of the ordinary. He dreams about random people all the time.
Falling asleep he wonders if Jack will ever come back. What if this was the first and last time he has ever seen him?
Jack wakes up because the sun is shining through his curtains. He blinks a few times before he has shaken off the last ounce of sleep. Reluctantly he leaves the comforting warmth of his bed for the chill air of his apartment.
He has another week before the training officially starts, but that’s not going to keep him off the ice. Jack has his first team meeting tomorrow. So far he has only spoken to the managers and coaches, but not to his other teammates.
A glance to the clock tells him that it’s only seven am on the day he was supposed to be able to sleep in, but now that he’s awake he hasn’t got any desire to go back to sleep. He’s always been somewhat of an early riser.
He eats some muesli for breakfast and normally he would just be content to do nothing for an entire day, maybe read a book or watch some TV, but today he’s feeling particularly restless. After passing by his couch for the third time he realizes that he’s pacing. He gets out his running gear and decides that it’s a good idea to get some exercise and explore the city at the same time.
Jack’s feet are hitting the pavement in a regular rhythm and the cool morning air does wonders to clear his head. His mother always told him that he’s thinking too much, and running had always helped him to let his mind go blank and to concentrate on nothing but breathing regularly.
He makes his way along Seekonk River through the adjacent park, then over the bridge, along the other side of the river until he reaches Providence Expy and he crosses the river again to get back to Fox Point. From there he wants to make his way back home, but somehow he ends up standing outside of Eric’s bakery again, having subconsciously made his way back home only to pass by the homely looking shop.
On a whim he decides to go in and pay Eric a visit, just to say hello.
Eric can’t help to feel annoyed, the billing kicking his butt. Eric does everything that the bakery’s owner, Clara, can’t find the time to do anymore. Sadly that includes more accounting and less baking, but if Eric wants to open his own bakery one day, he tells himself, this is all valuable knowledge on how to run a business. The ringing of the ancient doorbell rips Eric from his thoughts, announcing the arrival of a new customer.
“Give me a second.” He says before looking up. He puts the last numbers in order before he looks up and is immediately drawn into the depths of Jack’s blue eyes.
“Goodness, Jack, why didn’t you say something? How are you?”
“I’m fine.” He says and Eric marvels at the deep richness of Jack’s voice.
“I’m very pleased to see you back so soon. What can I get you today?” Eric asks, his mood instantly better now that he gets to see a friendly face.
Eric watches in fascination how Jack regards the display of sweet treats with curiosity.
“Could you recommend something?” Jack asks shyly, much to Eric’s delight. He only realises it now but he has been looking forward to picking out another perfect snack for Jack.
“Anything?” Eric asks with a wide grin on his face, already knowing that the answer is going to be yes.
“Yes, please.”
Eric contemplates for a second before he knows what the perfect food is for Jack.
“You look a bit hungry, so why don’t you start off with something a little more substantial and I’ll make you a sandwich?” He asks cheekily.
Jack just nods, looking a little overwhelmed. But Eric forgoes it and gets to work.
“Ham and …?” Jack asks incredulously when Eric places the plate in front of him. “How did you know this was my favourite?”
“Call it intuition and years of practice?” Eric jokes. “It was just a lucky guess.”
Jack bites into the sandwich with great enthusiasm, and Eric can’t restrain himself from watching him, registering the pleased look on Jack’s face while he chews.
“Good?” Eric asks after a while.
“Good?” Jack’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. “This is great. I don’t think I have ever eaten a sandwich this good.”
Eric smirks at his answer. He knows his sandwiches are phenomenal, but sometimes a little foresight could be handy in wooing extremely handsome customers, as well as in building up a following of regulars. He feels like preening.
“I’m glad you like it!”
Eric is pulled away from his short conversation by some other customers entering the bakery and ordering a huge amount of donuts and cinnamon rolls. Now that they are all out of donuts and Eric has to abandon his conversation in favour of going back into the kitchen and starting another batch.
When he gets back to the register, a little out of breath, Jack is still there, but Eric knows that he has long finished his sandwich and was only waiting for him so he could pay and leave. Eric has to pull himself together so that he doesn’t feel the slight pang of disappointment in his chest. He would have loved to enjoy Jack’s company for a little bit longer.