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English
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Published:
2013-11-17
Updated:
2014-02-08
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8,541
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5/?
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The Boy Who Bakes

Summary:

In which Agron works at a bakery called The Ludus and Nasir has a crush on him.

Notes:

This is my first attempt at writing a modern au for any fandom, so I really hope people like it! Reviews are most welcome!

Chapter Text

‘He bakes.’

‘Mmm-hmm.’

‘He bakes, Naevia.’

Naevia put down her phone with a sigh and looked at Nasir, who pushed the plate bearing the remnants of his half-eaten breakfast to the side of their small table and buried his head in his hands, his fingers tangling in the dark strands of hair fallen loose from his ponytail.

'Is that a bad thing?'

'Not exactly.'

Naevia shook her head and picked up her phone again. ‘In other words, you’re even more in love with him than you were already.’

'I'm not-'

'Nasir.'

The firmness in her voice defeated him and he dropped his head onto the rickety metal table, narrowly missing the edge of his plate as well as his barely-touched coffee. 'I have a problem,' he mumbled helplessly into the dimpled surface.

He felt Naevia's slim fingers wrap around his wrists, drawing his hands across the table until he looked up at her.

'Give it time,' she urged him. 'Things will work out the way they're supposed to.'

Nasir summoned a wry smile. 'Says the person who has already found her soul mate.'

Naevia looked at him strangely, an eyebrow quirked, but Nasir didn't see it, too busy shuffling his chair over a few inches until he had as good a view as possible out of the narrow window of Domino's, the coffee shop they had frequented for years. 'Shitty coffee and service without a smile' was how they had always described it to each other, but, set in their ways, they had never made a move to try somewhere else … at least until The Ludus had opened up over the road.

Leaning forward in his seat, Nasir eyed brightly painted frontage of town's newest coffee shop warily. Since it had first opened just over a month ago, The Ludus had already attracted many of Domino's former customers and begun to do a roaring trade. Owned independently and therefore free of the chains of franchise, it was two-thirds bakery to one-third coffee house, and its relaxed feel, wide couches and multitude of coloured cushions had immediately gained it a wide following among locals. Its owner and manager – a man known only as Spartacus – was rumoured to pride himself on good coffee and a friendly atmosphere, where a customer was just as welcome to sit and read a book from the stuffed bookshelves crammed end on end amongst the numerous couches as to place an order.

Naevia, as knowledgeable as ever, had told him the staff was made up of Spartacus' friends who had banded behind him when he had embarked on his dream of opening his own shop. The whole story was apparently written up behind what was becoming a town-famous cake counter on a big blackboard, decorated by swirls of coloured chalk that proudly proclaimed the day's specials - the result, explained the chalk, of the highly competitive staff trying to outdo each other in all manner of baked goods.

Of the two of them, Naevia was the only one who had stepped foot into The Ludus. She had been a convert from day one, her interest caught by the many trays of sourdough breads, fruit-laden pastries and sumptuous cakes that spilled temptingly from the many baskets in the shop window, and her loyalty won when she had fallen head over heels for Crixus, one of The Ludus' many staff. Crixus was broad-shouldered, determined and a dick to pretty much anyone who wasn't Naevia. He was also a key staff member of The Ludus and would swear to anyone who would listen that he had played as big a part in the bakery's success as Spartacus himself.

A tugging at Nasir's arm distracted him and he realised that Naevia had stowed her phone into her bag and was pulling at him.

'Come on,' she urged. 'It's time to go.'

'Why?' he said, grabbing his wallet automatically and dropping a few dollars onto the table before stowing it in his back pocket. 'Where are we going?'

'Anywhere but here. Come on.'

With a helpless shake of his head, Nasir pushed up and out of his chair and followed her out the heavily latticed door, which rattled shut behind them as they emerged onto the street. Naevia tugged again at his arm and Nasir followed her obediently, right up until he realised she was waving at someone on the other side of the street, who grinned in return and started towards them.

Recognising the newcomer, Nasir stalled mid-stride. 'Wait a minute-'

Naevia ignored him. 'You need to face your fears,' she said firmly.

He tried to wrench his arm free of her vice-like grip. 'Naevia, you don't-'

‘Everything ok here?’

Nasir jerked his head up to see the guy he had been crushing on for the last two and a quarter months standing before them with a toothy grin on his face. He was holding a paper bag between his large, calloused hands, and was wearing a black t-shirt with the words The Ludus emblazoned on it in a bold block script.

Beside him, Naevia leaned forward with a kiss to the guy's cheek and a smooth 'Hey, Agron', just as she managed to deliver a sharp kick to Nasir's ankles. Nasir let out an involuntary hiss of pain which caused Agron to immediately start forward, his forehead crinkling in concern.

‘You ok?' he said. Then, 'It's Nasir, right?'

Nasir nodded, his eyes watering furiously as he did his best to ignore the smell of freshly baked bread, spiced apples and aftershave that came from Agron. He wondered for a moment if was Agron’s cologne or Agron himself, but suddenly realised that Agron was waiting for him to say something.

He cleared his throat. ‘You bake good,’ he forced out.

The concern on Agron’s face lifted. His mouth quirked into a grin. ‘Thanks.’

Nasir swallowed, feeling his Adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat. ‘Excuse me,’ he said thickly. ‘I have to go find a cliff to jump off.’ Managing to pull himself together enough to dart Naevia a look promising revenge that she calmly ignored, he turned and walked away, hoping with everything he was that he could escape without falling flat on his face.

He had only gone a few steps when he heard his name being called.

‘Shit,’ he muttered, hastily running his hand through his hair. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’

The next thing he knew, there was a large hand on his shoulder, dwarfing it. He turned and Agron was grinning down at him, all tanned skin and muscles against the bright summer sky. His hair was pushed back in sweaty spikes and a leather cord hung twined about his neck, half-hidden behind the black v-neck of his t-shirt.

Nasir took a deep breath. Calm. He was calm. He could do this. About to say something, anything, to break the silence between them, he was caught off guard when Agron pressed the paper bag he had been holding forward and into his hands.

‘This is for you,' he said. 'In case it takes you a while to find a cliff or whatever and you get hungry.’

Nasir stared at him and Agron gave him a quick, shit-eating grin before turning to jog back towards The Ludus, giving Naevia a farewell wave on the way.

Nasir looked down at the parcel clutched in his hands. The brown paper bag crinkled against his fingers as he ran his fingers over it, smoothing over the white floury fingerprints left there by Agron. Carefully, he peeled back the edge of the bag to see the edge of a crusty brown loaf of still-warm bread.

A smile broke over his face and he turned to see Naevia approaching, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

She lifted her eyebrow at him and he grinned, fighting back the stupid smile that was trying to break over his face. ‘He bakes,’ he told her and ignored the roll of her eyes as she tucked her arm in his and led him away.

-------------------

That night, Nasir dreamt of the hard, solid weight of another man's body pressed close against his own, pushing him back against a rough stone wall that ground against the bare skin of his back and calves.

The other man moved abruptly away and he found himself panting as he rested his palms against a warm chest that heaved in heavy gasps beneath his grip.

We must wait.

Time passes to slow.

We must be quick then.

A grin flashed, the other man surged forward and Nasir woke with a gasp, his cock half-hard and beads of sweat gleaming damp against his forehead, soaking the hair that was plastered close about his neck. He breathed in a huge gulp of air, the dream still dancing vividly in his mind. He could still feel the other man's stubble scratching against his cheek, the large hands tangled in his hair, the hard bite of of metal and leather against his chest and he wanted to feel it all again.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, searching for sleep once more. The harder he tried, the more it eluded him, however, and, shoving aside the light sheet that covered him, he sat up and stared into the blackness of his room. It had seemed so real – the scent of sweat, the dimness of the torchlit corridor, the heat of the other man's body, the desire he had had felt for him, from him.

He shook his head. It was not like him to dream so vividly. His mind slowing, he lay back down and pulled the sheets about him, finally falling into sleep with the memory of green eyes gleaming at him through the darkness.

TBC