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It wasn’t exactly ever part of James’ life plan to run a bakery. It was the type of dream that people always said they wanted, in an idealised world, but never really took any steps to get to. For James, it was a ‘what if’ that played at the back of his mind sometimes, when he was stuck in the eighth hour of a supermarket shift or at the back of a particularly boring lecture hall. So if you asked him how he managed to become the proprietor of the place, it was like, one minute he was just working the three to eleven am shift and then the owners were moving to Italy and it seemed like the perfect time to act on that always in the background but constant dream.
And he was pretty happy with what he’d done with the place, if he was being honest (and yes okay, bragging) business was better than it had ever been with the old owners. Something about the copious amount of houseplants and feature walls (were they still feature walls if it was every wall?) he supposed. Or maybe he was just a good baker, which he guessed could also be true, even though he had never really put any strenuous effort into honing the skill. Which was the way things worked for him a lot of the time anyway, much to his classmates' disdain all through school and uni. So really, everything was travelling along delightfully smoothly; he loved early mornings, he loved kneading dough, he loved folding macaron batter, it was all really a dream.
Until one fateful morning, at the height of summer, when Sirius Black, friend and flatmate, arrives at the bakery at what he would call a disgustingly early hour but is in reality, five hours after James and Peter, also friend, also flatmate, plus co-worker, had arrived at work and accosted them with an absolutely horrific piece of news.
“Did you hear?” He asks with both anger and humour in his eyes. He’s leaning up against the counter, demanding their attention as if they don’t have customers to serve.
“Depends. Most mornings I hear quite a few things, I could give you a list-.” James tells him.
“No, shut up. There’s a new bakery opening up down the street.” He holds the gravity of this statement on his tongue, delivering it with as much drama as possible.
Peter almost drops the tray of apple turnovers he’s putting in the case. “Um, what? That is not allowed.”
“Definitely not allowed.” Sirius agrees, solemnly.
“How did I not hear about this?” James says, a rhetorical question he really thinks he deserves an answer to from whoever it is who has the audacity to go and open this new place.
“Apparently it was a really fast process, like they only bought it a couple weeks ago. It’s where that leased out shoe place was, y’know.”
“Yeah.” James says. “Wait, how do you know all of this?”
“Remus is friends with one of the owner’s friends. Dorcas? I think she came over one time.” Remus, friend, flatmate, Sirius’ boyfriend and now apparently, traitor.
“Well we need more information. Can you go over there and get a sponge cake or something?”
“And since when do you get to boss me around?” Sirius furrows his eyebrows.
“Since I got the right to ask favours from my friends. Go. I’m kind of busy, if you couldn’t tell.” Which was true, the line was getting a few too many people deep thanks to Sirius’ distraction.
“Fine.” Sirius fakes annoyance as he stomps out of the bakery.
And it is fine. James is a better baker than this person, whoever they are, there’s no doubt about it. They probably can’t even make a decent sponge.
--
It turns out they can make an incredibly decent sponge. Like an insanely, unbelievably, almost upsettingly decent sponge.
“Nope. Nah. This can’t be this good.” Peter says.
“This should be illegal.” Sirius.
“How the fuck do even get cake like this?” Remus.
“The texture is like…ungodly.” James. The four of them are sitting around one of the small tables in the shop during their lunch break, at the quietest half hour of the day. No one had ever been so upset by eating good cake. It feels like a personal attack.
“Should I go and try and steal their recipe or something?” Sirius suggests, mouth still half full of cake.
“No, no, no. We have to win by merit, not cheating.” James says.
“Win?” Remus asks. “What exactly are we winning here?”
“Well clearly this is now a competition.” James says. If someone wanted to do business so close to him, they had to be prepared to enter battle.
“Right. Of course it is.” Remus sighs.
“Are you planning on informing this other person of what they’ve apparently signed up for?” Peter asks.
James hadn’t exactly thought of that. “They’ll find out.” Doubling down with vague statements was a common strategy of his.
“This is great.” Sirius says, leaning back in his chair and grinning.
“This is insane.” Remus corrects. Which is often how things went.
--
The next day, James plans to go down the street after work to stake out the competition and tell whoever the owner is exactly what it is they had gotten themselves into. He’s washing a few dishes while Peter cleans the display case, mentally preparing his grand speech, when the bell rings. There is little James hates more than customers coming in right when they’re closing and so he’s about to very politely (with clenched teeth) tell them that they were just locking up when he stops dead in his tracks.
The person standing in front of the counter is gorgeous, like chest-achingly, nerve-sparkingly, stomach-whirlingly gorgeous. That’s just about the only thought James can muster up in his useless organ of a brain. This is a moment for charm. For wit and charisma and dashing looks. Not staring dumbfounded with a heart beating approximately two billion times faster than it’s supposed to. Man, has he ever been less annoyed by someone coming in at five past six. In fact, James would be pretty happy if they did this every single day of his life.
“So this is what I’m up against, huh?” They say, assessing the case with a serious, discerning expression. Upon hearing them speak, James enters into another round of infuriating uselessness which, luckily, Peter seems to notice and comes to the rescue.
“Up against?” He questions. “Um, who exactly are you?”
“Lily Evans. I’m the woman who owns the new bakery.” She extends her hand to Peter who shakes it far too vigorously.
James, finally coming to his senses, pushes in front of Peter and holds out his own hand. “James Potter. Owner of this bakery.” He tries not to dwell too long on the feeling of her hand in his, which is a tricky endeavour.
“Well James, I hope you don’t mind, I thought I needed to come and stake out the competition.”
James’ brain short-circuits for a moment, trying desperately to figure out whether to come up with a witty comeback or just straight up declare his love right then and there (not that he would do that… probably).
Lily blinks at him a few times and he realises he should probably actually say something. “Well, Evans, you may have beaten me to the stake-out of the competitor stage of the competition but you should know I’m winning this thing.”
“We’re winning this thing.” Peter corrects.
“Right. Yeah.” James glances at him. “We’re winning this thing.” He crosses his arms over his chest for added effect.
Lily narrows her eyes at them, a smirk drawing onto her face. “And what exactly have you got in mind for what this is?”
James, of course, has this all planned out which he feels sort of smug about given that Lily is clearly assuming he has no idea what he’s talking about. She knows little of the power of James/Sirius scheming, especially when they’re bored on a Wednesday night. “We price our cinnamon rolls at the same price for a week, make them the same size, same display, only difference being recipe and skill and whoever sells the most by the end of the week wins. They get the honour of being the best baker on this street.” James smiles at her, hoping that in some way this might sweeten her to the idea (it had worked before).
“Why cinnamon rolls?” Lily asks. “They’re a classic. They’re easy. Not convoluted.” James says. “Nowhere to hide.” He adds, hoping for some dramatic effect.
“Hmm.” She considers for a moment. “Okay, you’re on. Don’t get too cocky though. You’re dreaming if you seriously think you’ll be better than me.”
“That’s bold coming from someone who’s never eaten something I’ve made before.”
“Bold of you to say that I haven’t.” She smiles.
It shouldn’t really make James’ stomach flutter to find this out, and yet somehow butterflies have managed to find their way in there. He so desperately wants to know what she thought. He so desperately wants her to think they’re good. That he’s good. “And what’s your professional opinion?”
She shrugs. “Not the worst Bakewell tart I’ve had. Too sweet but the crust was there.” James decides to focus on the latter half of that statement.
“Just cause you-.” He stops short, she’s competition, and competition does not get compliments. “Just cause I what James?”
James isn’t about to come up with a fake insult, so he’s kind of gotten himself cornered. “Just cause you’re…obnoxiously good doesn’t mean you need to come in here and criticise me.” He mumbles, half hoping she won’t hear him and give up her questioning.
Unfortunately (and deeply fortunately, because it sounds like magic), she laughs. “I’d call it constructive feedback. And I’m glad to know I was so impressive to you.”
James is getting fidgety which is never a good thing, it usually means far too much hair ruffling and glasses adjusting. “Just wait. I’ll show you what impressed feels like.”
“Looking forward to it.” Lily laughs and James hopes it isn’t at how hot he’s getting. “Start on Saturday?” She suggests.
“Saturday. You’re on.”
James watches as Lily swings back out the door, wanting terribly to prove he’s better than her and simultaneously to shower her with thousands of words of praise. Well, this plan was already not going to plan.
--
“Okay. Pete. These are the most important cinnamon rolls you will make in your wild, fleeting little life. Are you ready?” James takes Peter by the shoulders, making sure to look right in his eyes.
“Um. I thought we were just practicing?” Peter asks.
“Well, yes but the point still stands, these are the second most important cinnamon rolls you will make in your entire life.”
They’re in the kitchen at the flat which is way too small (not helped by the fact that most surfaces are taken up by copious amounts of cookbooks) but at least has a good oven. After work, James bought about ten times the ingredients they would actually need, gone over his recipe approximately twenty-nine times, given Peter six pep talks and has never felt so determined in his life. This is more than just a rivalry now, this is how he’s going to win Lily’s heart, he’s sure of it. He’s not entirely sure of exactly how that’s going to work, given that if (when) he wins, she’ll probably not be too happy about it but that seems like an inconsequential factor at the moment so he decides to settle instead for the idea that she’ll just be so blown away she’ll become instantly enamoured and completely forget all her misgivings.
“You do realise Lily’s probably not even practicing right?” Remus points out from where he’s sitting at the kitchen bench with Sirius. “Like the point is to prove which one of you is already a better baker. And you’re not on Bake Off.”
Okay, that was a low blow. James had always wanted to be on The Great British Bake Off and even still, when he’s actually made a career out of it, it still hurts.
“But I don’t know if she is or isn’t, do I?” James says. “So we can’t take any chances.”
“I could just text Dorcas. I’m pretty sure she works there too.”
Even though he’s sure such vigorous preparations are absolutely the right thing to do, James’ cheeks heat up at the idea of Lily finding out about all the effort he’s putting in. Maybe Remus is right. She probably is such a naturally good baker that she hasn’t needed to practice a day in her life. She’s probably doing way cooler things on a Thursday night, probably forgotten all about him. Really, for all James knows she’s with a partner, who’s she’s probably madly in love with and they’re probably laughing about him and- nope. That train of thought is not going anywhere good. It doesn’t matter if Lily has a partner, it’s not like he’ll be heartbroken or anything. It’s not like he can feel himself becoming increasingly more infatuated every time he replays their conversation. And it’s not like he’s been doing that a lot more than is strictly necessary.
“Don’t bother her.” He tells Remus, who shrugs.
“Anyway Remus, don’t complain.” Sirius says. “We get delicious baked goods out of it. Which will, of course, be absolutely faultless. Superb. Heaven-like, even.”
Remus rolls his eyes. “I don’t even know why you think you need to impress this Lily person when you have someone who’s so clearly in love with you sitting right here.”
“Well I would agree but apparently he’s in love with you or something?” James says. “God knows why when I’m so readily available.”
“Oh James, you know my platonic love flows only for you.” Sirius blows him a kiss which he feigns catching.
“Okay I’m sorry but were you not the one just getting on my case about ‘not being dedicated enough to the cause’ or something?” Peter says. “Because I didn’t give up my evening to watch you all flirt with each other, once again.”
“Would it help if we said we love you too?” Sirius asks.
“No. Can we just bake now?” Peter tries to give Sirius a stern look, but that kind of dynamic has never really worked, and a small smile creeps onto his face anyway.
--
Fifty-seven cinnamon rolls later and the four of them are sprawled across the living room couch (not at all big enough but they make it work, somehow) surpassing any thoughts of actual dinner food in favour of what, before James became a baker, he would have considered more sweet yeasted dough than could be consumed in a single sitting.
“You’re taking her down with this mate.” Sirius says, mouth full of bread, head in Remus’ lap, the rest of his limbs arranged carelessly over James and Peter.
“Excuse me, I also made these.” Peter says, indignantly.
“Yeah but you’re not the one trying to make an impression on your competition.” Sirius says.
“Okay fair, I don’t want to be lumped in with someone who catches feelings this freaking easily.” Peter concedes.
“Yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing.” Remus chips in, in James’ opinion, entirely unnecessarily.
James is saved from anymore ridicule (from the people he trusted most, no less) by Remus’ phone buzzing. “Oh hey, it’s Dorcas.”
James immediately perks up, Dorcas surely means mention of Lily right? Remus snorts, handing the phone to James.
dorcas.meadowes: hey, you live with james potter right? bc I need to know if he’s taking this whole competition thing as seriously as lily is. we have way too many cinnamon rolls in the house rn
James thinks his ribs are likely to crack from the way his heart is pushing up against them with its frantic beating. He could tell that they were on a similar wavelength this afternoon but this? This was on a different level. A divine, fate entwined level. James is now convinced Lily is perfect for him.
TODAY AT 19:21
remus.likethe.moon: james here. remus showed me this. yes!!!!!! I am taking this !!very!! seriously. tell lily the game is afoot
remus.likethe.moon: I mean on!!!!!!!!
remus.likethe.moon: also does she happen to be single by any chance??
dorcas.meadowes: oh fuck off
--
This week might just be the most important of James’ career, possibly of his life, if he was indulging in Sirius levels of dramatics. The stakes are high (honour, glory, love), James’ heart rate is high (a hundred and four beats per minute, he counted), the piles of baked goods are high (much higher than could fit in the display case high).
James goes in confident, because that’s how he prefers to enter most situations, and it’s this unwavering faith in himself that he thinks will carry him through what is shaping up to not be one of his best days.
Saturdays are usually their busiest day, and sure, it’s not not busy but especially given the heightened circumstances, the steady flow of customers is far from ideal. But it’s fine, really, because of course everyone would want to go see the new place, it’s a fad and once they realise how good the original is, they would never look back. Or that’s what he tells himself at least, resolutely not thinking about that angelic Victoria sponge, or its angelic maker.
He also tries to ignore the definitive ebb in business around two, which is usually one of their busiest times, opting to check Instagram instead, not at all to check the Doe and Stag Bakery account, which he had definitely not done some slight reconnaissance on the night before, completely out of competition of course, not a speck of admiration involved.
He really shouldn’t have looked. A thread’s been posted half an hour ago, happy customer after happy customer, all holding cinnamon rolls, all with photo-perfect smiles with the caption ‘10/10 customers agree, the cinnamon rolls at Doe and Stag Bakery are the best in town!’ which was such an unnecessary dig and really, is just unsportsperson-like. It isn’t at all helped by a message from Sirius.
TODAY AT 14:27
thebrightest.star: so not to freak you out but there’s a whole-arse line outside evans’ place?
thebrightest.star: remus and I tried to get in there to see what you’re up against but literally can’t get inside…
james.redacted.potter: I feel so betrayed >:(
james.redacted.potter: the plants do too. marjorie especially
--
By Tuesday, things are still not looking up. Business has been steadily increasing at Lily’s bakery while steadily decreasing at James’ and while it’s not like they’re in any actual dire financial situation, he really would like to get his customers back.
James has been purposely avoiding Lily’s shop for reasons that were honestly unclear even to him, proving a point maybe? Inability to both be in the same room with her and breathe correctly at the same time? Whatever it was, he needs to suck it up and go; find out her secrets, maybe her bakery was actually a cat café or she gave out free cakes for every sale or something. Also, despite his lack of respiratory function, he does kind of desperately want to see her again and this is a pretty good excuse. He closes a little bit earlier than usual, putting it down to Peter and him being tired rather than the fact that there hasn’t been any customers for the last forty-five minutes and leaves Peter to drive home while he makes his way to the other end of the street to Lily’s bakery.
By the time he arrives, he can see a woman he recognises somewhat - Dorcas’ girlfriend he comes up with, Marely, maybe? - turning the sign hanging on the front door from open to closed.
“Sorry! We’re just closing.” She tells him when she sees him approach.
“Oh, I’m not here to buy anything, it’s…business.”
She raises her eyebrows at him. “I don’t think we were expecting any business meetings.”
“Surprise business meeting?” He suggests, hoping for the best even though she doesn’t really look like the kind of person who would give into him that easily.
“Oh for goodness sake James, just come in.” Lily appears from what is presumably the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest and flour dusted over her nose in an incredibly adorable fashion.
“Oh you’re James!” Possibly-Marley says. “Please, you’re so welcome.”
“Is he?” Lily questions. ‘Not so sure about the enthusiasm Marlene.’
“Hey!” James protests at this, even though the insult does nothing to dull the erratic beating of his heart.
Marlene opens the door for him anyway and he enters graciously into the shop, away from what is becoming a chilly evening.
Lily’s shop is downright cosy. Like the picture of where you would snuggle up on a cold day, fairy lights are strung around three of the walls, which are a rustic brick and there are pots full of woody sticks, leaves and native flowers scattered over every surface, a woodland theme originating from the name, James assumes. There are even woodland scented candles on the couple of tables they’ve managed to fit inside.
“Well what a delightful place you’ve got here.”
“I’m not succumbing to your flattery.” Lily says, but can’t help but smile in spite of it. James notices the display cabinets haven’t been emptied yet but they’ve pretty much sold out of everything, especially noticeably, their cinnamon rolls.
“Not trying to get you to succumb to anything.” He says.
“So what is this then? Spying? You trying to sabotage me?”
James mocks offence, bringing a hand to his chest. “You wound me Evans, I wouldn’t think of doing anything of the sort.”
Marlene has been watching this interaction with a slight smile but she seems to take this as some sort of cue. “Okay well, Dorcas and I should really get going, we’ll see you tomorrow Lily.” At this, another woman emerges from the back, untying an apron and shaking pigtail braids out of her hair.
“Oh! It’s James!” She beams and looks between Lily and him, something bordering on a knowing look in her eyes.
“Why is everyone so goddamn excited to see James?” Lily asks, exasperatedly and James notices her cheeks reddening slightly, which makes his own body temperature increase in turn.
“The question is really, why wouldn’t they be excited?” James corrects, giving her one of his patented charming grins.
Lily just rolls her eyes. “Um so you two don’t feel like helping me close?” She directs at Marlene and Dorcas.
“Nah, you and James should be fine by yourselves.” Marlene says.
“Right.” Lily gives them one of her eye rolls and they both watch as they take each other’s hands and hurry out the door, leaving James to feel his body heat up about ten degrees just from being in a room alone with Lily.
Lily turns to James. “So, you ready to give up yet?”
“Excuse me?” James glares at her. “I am not a giver upperer, thank you very much.”
“Well that’s good, because it wouldn’t be nearly as fun to watch you lose if it hadn’t been the full week.” Lily says.
“You’ve got another thing coming if you don’t think I’m going to pull this back.”
Lily scoffs. “Sure. Keep dreaming.” James’ dreams involve a little more than sweet buns but he elects not to tell Lily that. “So if you’re not here for nefarious purposes, what are you here for?” She continues.
“Just…assessment.” James says.
Lily gives him a look. “I can give you my recipe if you want.”
Well that wasn’t what he was expecting, in fact it was the last thing he was expecting. It went entirely against the point of the competition and he’s also entirely offended by the idea that she would even think he needs it. He’s just about to tell Lily so when she speaks again. “Because it won’t matter. You still won’t win.”
She has confidence to challenge his own, which James could appreciate, in fact, it was making his palms go quite sweaty. He rubbed them on his trousers and then over his hair and then pushed up his glasses, just for good measure. “Wow, and here I was thinking you cared about beating me.”
She instead bypasses the accusation altogether. “Come to the kitchen, we have way more ingredients than we need. You can show me how you’re making them.”
James is stuck between being deeply offended at the implication that whatever he’s doing is in some way wrong and the intense desire to spend as much time alone and in close proximity to Lily as possible. In the end, the tug in his chest wins out and he follows her into the small kitchen.
Lily gathers ingredients from where they’re stored neatly on labelled shelves and James’ mind flashes to his own kitchen where a label would probably be too scared to be seen in the vicinity and the shelves are a mismatch of random ingredients he has to sift through to find whatever it is he actually needs.
“Okay.” Lily says, having lined everything up on the workbench. “Show me what you’ve got.”
There’s a terrifying intensity about baking under the watchful gaze of Lily Evans and James is so aware of it, it’s making his whole body tingle. His cheeks are burning and he can’t help but glance over at her every three point five seconds. It’s unfair, he thinks, how could he possibly be at the top of his game in a situation like this?
It’s unhelpful that she’s watching him with the intensity and precision of a reality TV judge. It’s not exactly not turning him on. So now he’s getting fidgety agai, which is just perfect really.
“Do you usually use plain or strong flour?” She asks.
“Plain.” He replies, feeling acutely as if this is the worst mistake he’s made in his life.
“You should just use strong.” He gets the sense she is not to be argued with.
When he gets to kneading the dough, she sighs, which, of course at this point, gets him all jittery. “Honestly, what are you doing?” It’s confusing really, he’s not doing anything he thinks is a particular insult to the baking gods, but Lily clearly seems to think so, judging by the way her hands are on her hips and her glare has increased by about fifty levels of intensity.
“Um. Kneading?” He suggests, which, okay, he probably could have come up with something a little better but there’s only so much you can do when your brain feels like a barely cobbled together pile of lovesick mush.
“That’s not kneading.” Lily says. ‘You’re not giving it a sensual massage James, put some life into it.”
“Oh.” James is at a little bit of a loss. “Right.”
“Here.” She says. “I’ll show you.”
A person’s hand touching his over a lump of condensed flour and butter should really not make such a big impression on his lungs and yet James immediately becomes wildly short of breath. There’s something stretching out in his heartstrings and he tries very hard not to pay attention to the way her skin feels, or the pressure where they touch, because really, that would be stupid and annoying and probably make him an absolute prick.
It takes him a second to remember to move his own hands away and he watches, vaguely wide-eyed, while Lily has at the dough like it’s just launched a fury of insults at her mother.
“Okay.” He says, in a strung out voice. “Point taken.”
“Good. Take this bit.” She separates the dough and hands half to him. They knead together in tandem for the ten minutes it takes which is basically James’ idea of heaven. He’s always found solace in this process, it’s calming and rhythmic and he loves the feeling of turning something into something different right under his fingertips. He supposes it’s why he loves baking so much: watching something adapt into something better before his eyes and knowing that he made it happen and that people would be happier for it.
When their dough is satisfactorily smooth and elastic, they set it aside to prove, a time in which, having realised they didn’t really plan for this part of the process, and James really doesn’t want to leave, they sit on the floor of the kitchen next to the preheating oven.
“So” He makes a quick dash through his mind for acceptable conversation topics. “How did you start baking?”
Lily seems to take a moment to decide whether or not she wants to share with him. “My sister and I used to bake a lot when we were younger. I don’t really know how we started. I think we just found some old cookbooks or something.”
James feels extremely grateful that she decided on the opening up option. “Oh! That’s sweet, does she still bake now too?”
Lily looks down, twisting the rings around her fingers. “No. She thinks it’s frivolous and childish now.” She puts on a high pitched, posh voice to say this.
“Oh, right.” He’s not sure whether or not to continue asking about it, given that it’s clearly something that pains her, but he figures that she’s already opening up to him and if she doesn’t want to, she can easily veto the conversation. “I take it she’s not a fan of your career choice then?”
Lily gives a derisive laugh. “Nope. According to her it’s completely irrational and I’m an idiot for thinking it’s a good idea. She thinks I should be working as a secretary or something like her. Which would be fine, if it was anything close to what I wanted to do with my life.”
James, as he so often does, feels deeply lucky that he has parents as supportive as he does, who were almost as excited as he was at the prospect of him owning a bakery. “Funny how she has so many opinions about your life choices when you’re so respectful of hers then.”
Lily sighs again. “I don’t know. I just keep trying with her and never get anything back. It’s tiring.” And suddenly, in the stark kitchen lighting and glow of the oven, she really does look tired. James is overcome with the urge to hug her, which he holds himself back from.
“I guess sometimes that’s all we can do if we love someone.” He says. “I don’t have any siblings but I think they’re probably worth trying for. But if you need a break, you should give yourself that. You also can’t keep stretching out a relationship that isn’t going to work, you can’t let it break. Maybe you just need to see where you each go separately for a while and then come back to it. It might have a better chance of working.” He’s very aware that he really has no understanding of the fullness of Lily’s relationship with her sister and as such, is completely unqualified to be giving her advice but he gets the idea that she doesn’t talk with a lot of people about this and it won’t hurt to offer something, even if she ends up disregarding it completely.
She doesn’t look like she thinks it’s shit advice though, which is encouraging, especially given that advice is something James tends to pride himself on. “Yeah, that makes sense.” She says softly. “Thanks James, I’ll think about that.”
He gives her a warm smile. “What did you used to bake with her?” He asks, not wanting to abandon the topic completely but hoping to coax her back into some happier memories.
She laughs. “We were obsessed with red velvet banana cupcakes.”
“Um, I’m sorry?”
“I know. To be honest I have no idea how I actually became a baker when that’s my origin story but I don’t know, they seemed like heaven on earth to six year old us.” She shrugs.
“That’s vile Evans. And you say I’m bad.”
“Hey, I never said you were bad.” There’s a tiny blush creeping up her cheekbones. “You’re really not bad James.”
Okay. Total heartbeat increase. Total loss of words, or functioning thought or ability not to stare in wonder. He pulls himself from it before the silence stretches to awkward lengths. “Is that right? So you’re saying I’m not an absolute disgrace.”
“Definitely not a disgrace.”
“So…what you’re saying is I’m basically the most talented baker you’ve ever seen.” He grins at her in a way he’s been told many times but refuses to admit, is annoying.
“Okay, whoa, slow down there. You’re just like, slightly above average. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Above average, above average, above average. “Okay I get it, you’re trying to intimidate me.”
“Um, I think you’ll find I most definitely am intimidating you.” Which is absolutely true but is absolutely not something that should be said aloud.
“As far as I’m aware, I’m the intimidating one between us.”
“Well then you clearly have zero sense of self awareness.” She volleys back. “You probably couldn’t find your own hand if you put it behind your back.”
“We’ve known each other for five days and you’re already hitting me with such scathing insults?” He receives only a smirk in response. “We’ll just have to see who wins on Friday then.” He’d almost forgotten about the competition, the whole reason he’s here. God his brain would just not line up around her.
After a few more minutes of gentle banter and awfully crush-like stomach feelings, the dough finishes proving and they set about adding the cinnamon and sugar, rolling it into a spiral and preparing a baking tin, tasks which seem to require a lot more shoulder bumping and ‘accidental’ hand brushing than James remembers. It’s all making his brain buzz a little too deafeningly.
While they wait, not at all impatiently, he could probably stay here forever and not be too bothered, for it to prove a second time and subsequently bake, they argue over the best kind of tart and whether focaccia or ciabatta is better.
“I love making bread the most.” Lily says, which makes James kind of too excited because it’s his favourite thing to bake too. “It’s such a satisfying process and I love seeing it prove like…okay this is going to sound completely daft but I like, relate to it in a way? Okay yeah, I hate myself for saying this but it’s like when you have a really wonderful experience or you meet a really wonderful person or something and you feel like you’re just expanding with all the feeling inside of you, you know? What am I talking about, you definitely don’t.” She covers her cheeks with her palms in embarrassment.
But he does, exactly and exhilaratingly. “No, no I really do, Lily. I actually kind of love that idea.”
“I guess that makes both of us insane then.” Which he can’t argue with. It all feels a little bit perfect.
Sitting on a kitchen floor at some unknown time of night, talking about what makes him happiest with a woman who is making him increasingly happier and happier herself. It feels a little bit magical. As do the rolls when they take them out of the oven, not waiting a second to drizzle them with a sweet glaze and pull them apart with sticky hands. They’re miles better than when James makes them by himself.
After a moment of appreciative chewing, Lily echoes his thoughts. “Okay, as much as it pains me to admit this, these are better than my own… I can’t believe I just said that.”
So yeah, pretty wildly, beautifully, sweetly perfect.
--
“I think you’ve set yourself a new record.” Sirius announces as soon as James turns his key in the door of their flat.
“Sorry?” James throws his keys on the kitchen bench and throws his bag somewhere in the general vicinity before flopping, exhaustedly into a chair across from Sirius.
“For falling in love.” Sirius clarifies. “This is honestly quite impressive.”
James feels himself heat up at the idea. “I promise you I am not in love with her.”
Sirius hums. “Well maybe not in love, sure, but like, god this is some pretty deep infatuation.”
“And what exactly are you basing this on?” James questions.
Sirius looks up at the clock above their front door, a patented smile/smirk slipping onto his face. “On the fact that it’s currently quarter past eleven and Pete said you went to hers after work.”
“Okay, first of all, I went to her place of work, not hers, there’s a big difference. And secondly, how do you know that I didn’t go there for ten minutes and then, I don’t know, go and hook up with some woman at a bar.”
Sirius laughs at that, which drives James slightly mad, or it would of if he wasn’t deeply used to it by now.
“Multiple reasons, two of which being that despite your insistence of being a quote on quote, ‘party animal’, I have seen you go out on a weeknight exactly twice and more importantly, you’re physically and mentally incapable of hooking up with someone without at least buying them dinner first.” Which James kind of has to admit are good points, as much as he hates losing arguments to Sirius.
“You’re really quite frustrating, you know that?”
“What? For being right all the time? I simply cannot help my mind blowing intelligence James, you know that.”
“Well you can save your intelligence for something else, it’s not like anything’s actually going to happen.” The thought makes something in his stomach drop to somewhere in the region of his knees.
“And why’s that?”
“I mean, it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t like me.”
“Wow. A line which you have never before uttered in your life.”
James groans, burying his face in his hands. That’s the exact problem. The way Lily is making him feel is honestly getting concerning. “I know. I just, I don’t know, I can’t bear to get my hopes up this time. I know I can usually shake it off pretty easily but…”
Sirius gives him a thoughtful look, which James hates. It means he’s about to get all sincere, which James insists is only a good look for him when it’s for Remus. “Well you know if you really feel that way then she must be pretty sp-.”
“No, no, please shut up.” James holds up a hand to stop him. “I told you, I don’t want to think about it.”
Sirius thinks for a second. “Okay, well what if I thought about it?” While this seems like an all-around pretty foreboding sentence, James can at least appreciate the grin appearing on his face, known (with absolute dread by most people) as his plotting face.
“No. Whatever you’re thinking of, it is one hundred percent a terrible idea.”
“God, you sound like Remus…which means that you’ll end up agreeing to it anyway.” He looks pleased with himself, which James finds offensive. Sirius is always looking pleased with himself before he’s even done anything.
“Okay, what is it?” James concedes.
Sirius crosses his arms over his chest. “I go in there tomorrow and casually bring up your place and ask what she thinks of it, and by extension, what she thinks of you and just see how she reacts. It’ll give us unbiased intel on her opinion of you.”
“Have you forgotten about the whole ‘rivals’ aspect of this whole thing?” James asks. “Even if I am…into her, wouldn’t buying stuff from her kind of be supporting the enemy?”
“Calm down, I swear I won’t so much as glance in the direction of a roll.”
“Fine.” James says, propping up his head in his hand. “That’s if you can even get in there.”
“Bitterness is not a good look on you mate” James rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I’m going to bed, have fun pining.”
James flips up his middle finger at him and settles in for a night of exactly what Sirius said, feeling desperately sorry for himself all the while. Lily fucking Evans, she was really throwing him off his balance.
--
TODAY AT 12:03
thebrightest.star: operation deer in the headlights is a go. we’re outside
james.redacted.potter: change the name or i will forcibly stop u from doing this
thebrightest.star: no <3 TODAY AT 12:10
thebrightest.star: okay we’re in
don’t see her though
oh there she is
james.redacted.potter: don’t need updates on her exact whereabouts cheers
thebrightest.star: just trying to get into the mindset of a lovesick idiot babe
james.redacted.potter: as if u need to use ur imagination to figure out what that’s like honey
thebrightest.star: I don’t seem to remember ever being an idiot about it
james.redacted.potter: whatever helps u sleep at night
thebrightest.star: might want to watch your mouth, let me remind you I’m the one doing you a favour here
james.redacted.potter: a favour which u insisted on doing!!! i never asked for this
thebrightest.star: fuck you, you distracted me, I’m almost ordering
james.redacted.potter: how much prep time do u need for that????
thebrightest.star: artistry takes work grasshopper
james.redacted.potter: ordering baked goods is my fav art form
thebrighest.star: haha imagine not having artistic talent haha
james.redacted.potter: haha imagine not even being able to make a mug cake haha
thebrightest.star: blocked
TODAY AT 12:26
thebrightest.star: okay it’s done!
james james james!!
love of my life
stars in my sky
jamessssssss
fuck you I hate you
you’re not too busy for this
you’re so annoying ughhhhhjjj
I don’t have the patience for this
JAMES JAMES JAMES JAMES JAMES JAMES JAMES JAMES JAMES JAMES
thebrightest.star: double blocked
--
James has to force himself not to look at his phone. It’s like his heart doesn’t realise that the object itself doesn’t actually contain Lily’s affection, it just keeps pulling and pulling. When he finally gets the chance to check, his heart is beating so fast and his nerves are so wired up that he’s sure his brain has forgotten the proper way to send signals to his body. Except just as he’s unlocking it, he hears a voice from the doorway.
“I’m not letting Sirius have the first word.”
James looks up and thinks he must be hallucinating. Some kind of infatuation-riddled mirage. So he’s not sure whether or not to reply. He blinks a few times though and the picture of Lily doesn’t turn to dust or anything so he deems it safe.
“That’s probably wise.” He says, and pauses. “But, uh you shouldn’t really be in here.” He gestures around the very much staff-only back of his shop.
“Yeah.” Lily ignores him. “So he’s going to tell you I was some kind of flustered mess or something who could do nothing but praise you but I thought I should do the right thing and save you from any false ideas.”
“Oh.” James says. He’s not sure what to do with that, it’s a lot, and is making his head hurt a little and his heart feel some other kind of ways that he can’t exactly name. “So what are the real ideas?”
“The real ideas are that I gave you the adequate amount of praise for your ability and I would never get flustered over anything.”
That makes James smile, if only slightly so Lily doesn’t notice, it reminds him of something he might say. In reality he’s probably the most flustered man on the planet at most times but he thinks he does a pretty good job of hiding it.
“Hmm, but if that’s the case, why would Sirius come up with this totally fictional series of events?” He questions.
Lily rolls her eyes. “He probably just wants to inflate your ego.”
James grins at her. “So what’s really happened here is you thought up this wild story about you being into me because there is a chance that Sirius may have come up with the same story and then you rushed over here to tell me as quickly as you could.”
Lily blushes about a million different shades of red in quick succession. “That is so-. You honestly-.” Her inability to finish a sentence frustrates her even further.
James puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, just making assumptions.”
“Assumptions that you have no right to be making, Potter.”
James can tell she’s not really angry (her inability to stop her mouth from turning upwards is a giveaway) but she does a damn good job of pretending.
“Okay well, I guess you’ve done what you came here for, so unless there’s anything else I can do for you?”
Lily seems to be debating something in her head and sighs as she comes to a conclusion. “Yes okay. There’s something else. What time do you close tomorrow?”
James’ heart does a few acrobatic flips in anticipation. It’s far too active for its own good. “Early. Two.”
“Cool, I close at midday. I haven’t been to that many of the bakeries around here before. Thought you could give me a tour.” Lily, ever professional, says in a definitely not asking someone out manner. Not at all.
James is beaming. Yes he absolutely, one hundred, thousand, million percent could.
--
Lily looks stunning, which is nothing new but James hadn’t seen her in anything other than work clothes before and her dark green jumper and burgundy skirt are kind of brain-scrambling even if they probably shouldn’t be. James gets mesmerised with the way her hair falls for a good few seconds before he manages to pull himself together.
“Hey.” She’s beaming at him and he wants to scream. In a good way.
“Hi.” He thinks it probably comes out strangely so he covers it up with a cough and a hair ruffling for good measure.
“Has anyone ever told you you do that a lot?” She asks.
“Nope. Not once.”
“I see.” She doesn’t seem to believe him. “So I’m expecting you to have an itinerary prepared.”
He did. Which is something he probably would not have done for anyone else in the world. “According to my highly detailed plan, we are on a very tight time schedule so-.”
Bakery number one is this tiny place down a side alley that there’s barely anyone in. James doesn’t really understand how they stay open but their apple turnovers are to die for. This sentiment becomes doubly true when Lily gets cream on her nose and it’s the most adorable thing James has ever had the fortune to see (and the misfortune, given that he desperately wants to kiss it off).
“Review?” He asks, as they step outside.
“Apple turnovers are my nemesis, so I’m jealous.”
“What did apple turnovers ever do to you?”
“Been weirdly difficult to make right. It’s honestly mean”
“Well maybe I can trade you an apple turnover lesson for your roll lesson the other day.” Being ever so generous, he definitely was not just trying to find a reason to spend more time with her.
She seems to have had the same thought though and rolls her eyes. “Yeah well. Maybe.” Except her eyes are alight.
Bakery number two sells French-style patisserie and James and Lily can’t help but buy a whole tray of macaroons and too many soleil levants and some tartelette au citron just to be safe. It’s for science after all. Impressing Lily does not factor into James’ decision making one bit.
They eat them on a park bench where the birds are far too interested in them, although James does have a soft spot for them.
“You know no man has ever bought me patisserie before. This is quite the landmark.”
Okay, that was very date-like talk. Also very ‘I’m into you’ talk. “Well that’s just unacceptable.” James replies. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve been dating the right people.”
Lily gives him a frustratingly indecipherable look. “I guess I haven’t.” James doesn’t miss Lily smiling to herself after she says this and it’s infectious.
Bakery number three is a lot like James’ except bigger and with more foot traffic which he fights a losing battle to not be jealous about. Which of course Lily notices.
“Don’t be too annoyed. Their Danishes aren’t half as good as yours.” Which was true, the pastry wasn’t flaky enough and they were kind of tough. He would, however, gladly eat a dozen of them if it meant more compliments. He would probably do anything for Lily, as dramatic and plainly idiotic as that sounds.
“Okay, if you could only eat cake or pastry for the rest of your life, what would you choose?” Lily asks as they take their purchases out into the sun.
“Cake.” James answers immediately, there’s no competition.
“That’s so the wrong answer. It’s good for celebrations but other than that…” She shrugs.
“Are you kidding?” James stares at her like he’s looking at an entirely different person from the one he knew ten seconds ago. “It’s cake.”
“And?” She says. “That’s not the brain exploding argument you think it is.”
“Lily, have you eaten cake before?”
“Hmm let me think.” She glares him. “Yes.”
“I am shocked, astounded and deeply hurt.” He presses.
Lily just rolls her eyes. “Potter, if this is going to work, you’re going to have to understand that I am always right. And you could try to put more effort into your argument next time, unlike some people, I won’t get deeply hurt.”
James grins around his pastry. It’s kind of annoying how much he likes her, his brain runs at about ten thousand miles an hour at the best of times but when he’s around Lily it’s like someone’s turned that knob up as far as it can go. It’s this constant frantic buzz that doesn’t really seem to be doing anything other than screaming about her very existence. Not that James really wants to turn it down anyway. It’s a good buzz.
Lily seems to notice. “Something up?” She asks, grinning back at him.
“Just woozy from the sugar.”
“Just the sugar?”
“Why, something making you woozy?”
“I can’t imagine where you would get an idea like that.” Lily’s face is lit up in a way that is definitely a cause for lightheadedness.
--
James wasn’t giving up. Of course he wasn’t giving up. But no matter how hard he tried, all the rest of that afternoon and into the evening, he just couldn’t recreate what he had made with Lily. Really, he had never made anything so good in his life, not rolls, not pastry, not cake.
“This’ll be the one.” He says, with all his practiced false confidence, putting the third (and hopefully final) tray in the oven of their flat.
“Do you even actually want to beat her?” Remus asks from the kitchen bench.
“What?” James, attempting to defog his glasses from the oven, says. “Do you think I’m doing this for fun? I never want to look at another cinnamon roll in my life.”
“Do you want sympathy? Because you got yourself into this situation.” Peter says.
“What I want is for someone to tell me why these aren’t working.” James replies, crouching on the floor, staring into the oven like it might somehow magically make the rolls come out the way he wanted them.
“Because you’re not Lily?” Remus smiles.
“You know you are all so unhelpful.” James grumbles.
“We tried to help but apparently we’re not good enough for your artistry.” Sirius says. He wasn’t wrong, they had tried to help James in his efforts earlier and had been ungraciously shooed from the kitchen after Sirius got a piece of eggshell in the mixture (he insisted it added a ‘fun texture’).
“Well you know what this is all really about anyway, don’t you?” Peter asks.
“What?” Remus says.
“The friends we made along the way.”
The third tray of cinnamon rolls were abominably dense.
--
TODAY AT 23:49
james.redacted.potter: u ready to celebrate tomorrow?????
lily.ev.ans: my victory? so ready :)
james.redacted.potter: don’t smiley face me!!!!! >>>:(
lily.ev.ans: you wouldn’t be so mad if you thought you were gonna win
also how do you manage to so perfectly convey the way you talk into text form?
like I can hear the exclamation marks in your voice
james.redacted.potter: ah yes, it’s a skill of mine ;)
!!!!!!!!
lily.ev.ans: never wink at me again
--
And then it’s four o clock on Friday and James has sold an incredible six cinnamon rolls all day and so (while he will absolutely not give up until the results are confirmed) he’s feeling just a little bit defeated, more defeated than one should ever feel over a baked good really.
At quarter past four Lily comes swinging through the front doors with a triumphant look on her face which makes James’ cheeks redden. She’s followed by Marlene and Dorcas, holding hands and looking much more concerned with each other than any competitions.
“Finding it a little warm in here James?” Peter grins at him. James would usually snipe something back but a. he’s not exactly able to think clearly right now and b. he sort of owes Peter for going along with yet another of his stupid ideas this week.
“Yeah James it’s pretty cold outside...what’s making you so heated?” Lily mirrors Peter’s smile and James opens his mouth to say something, which he should know by now is a pointless endeavour.
“Oh James you’re super red.” Sirius, barging in, hand in hand with Remus, helpfully points out.
“Did you leave the ovens on or something?” Remus asks.
“I am about to mercilessly kill all of you in cold-blood.” James says.
“Nah, you’re too busy swooning.” Sirius says.
“For fucks sake, Sirius.” James hides his face in his hands, as if this might prevent Lily from witnessing this interaction. No such luck.
“Yeah, he was too busy swooning to make decent rolls too.” She says.
“Excuse me.” He says, indignantly. “I wasn’t swooning. I was surveying the competition.”
“That’s why you made her a victory cake right?” Peter asks.
Which brings James to the real matter at hand, which was that winners needed to be announced and in the event Lily won, certain premade victory cakes presented.
“You made her a victory cake?” Dorcas smiles.
“It was supposed to be a surprise.” James mumbles.
“Oh my god, you made her a victory cake.” Marlene clutches her hands to her chest. “And they say romance is dead.”
“It’s not romantic. It’s sportsperson-like.” James insists. Even if he does kind of hope she sees it as romantic. “Anyway, she might not even have won.”
There’s a moment of silence, as everyone looks at each other, smiles threatening to break on their faces.
“So anyway, where’s this cake?” Lily asks.
James insists they count the sales (it’s two hundred and four to fifty-seven, he doesn’t want to talk about it) but ends up conceding that the cake is the only thing that anyone really cares about at this point. The problem is, he really wants Lily to like this cake. It’s red velvet, three tiered, with banana flavoured buttercream frosting and sugar paste flowers and leaves curling up the sides. ‘Well done (I guess)’ it reads in royal icing calligraphy on the top (he got Sirius to teach him.) He spent way too long on Pinterest finding ideas and then way too long sketching it out and making the leaves was super time consuming and…yeah he’s given up pretending he’s not trying to impress Lily.
Sirius presents Lily with a crown he’s fashioned out of baking paper, which she accepts regally and James cuts the cake into huge slices for everyone.
“So do you make cake for every girl you compete in fake baking competitions with or just the ones you really like?” Lily asks him, fork halfway to her mouth, once the cake has been doled out to everyone.
James’ heart stutters to a halt. There’s a buzzing running all through his body. “Just the ones I really, really like.”
“Interesting. I guess you should know that I only put up with guys’ stupid ideas when I really, really like them then.”
“Oh.” The buzzing grows stronger. The world is a blur and perfectly clear.
“Oh god. You’re adorable.” Lily says and James’ heart has started beating again, except it’s going way too fast.
“Lily. You can’t just say those kinds of things to a person and expect them to still be able to function.”
“Hmm, how well do you need to be able to function to kiss me?”
“Lily.”
“James.”
And then he kisses her. And there’s no language to describe it, not flowery metaphors or thoughtful comparisons because it’s just pure energy. Every feeling at once, trying to burst out of them and swirling around their connected bodies. James doesn’t think he’s ever had this much feeling in him. His brain doesn’t even attempt to fathom it or try to control it. He just lets himself exist, for a moment, with the feeling of Lily’s lips on his and whatever magic it is they’re making.
And then all too soon, it’s over and Lily’s grinning at him like she’s never been so happy. “So you can both make really amazing cake and you’re a good kisser. Doesn’t seem fair to hoard so much talent does it?”
James doesn’t understand how she’s being so eloquent. “Um yeah…” is all he can manage.
“Like I said, adorable.” Lily says, and kisses him again, quickly, softly and he becomes the human equivalent of melted butter.
“So can we all just agree we’re all winners here?” Dorcas chimes in.
“Absolutely not.” Lily doesn’t hesitate to say.
“You’re a winner in my heart James.” Sirius assures.
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” James tells him.
“You didn’t win!” Lily tries to look annoyed but her smile and the way she’s kept an arm around James’ waist betrays her.
“You are honestly both insufferable.” Marlene glares at them, but she’s smiling too.
“Hopefully they’ll cancel each other out.” Remus says, which somehow makes James’ cheeks heat up and he thinks he’s probably grinning at Lily a little too stupidly because she rolls her eyes and holds his face in her hands and kisses him again and god, he could get very, very used to this.
–-
TODAY AT 8:34
james.evans.potter: check your email check your email check your email
lily.evans_potter: what?
james.evans.potter: just do it!!!!!!!!
lily.evans_potter: please just tell me you know i hate surprises
james.evans.potter: yr literally already on ur phone tho
TODAY AT 8:39
lily.evans_potter: holy shitttttttttt
oh my god
james!!!!!!!!!
oh damn you and your exclamation marks getting in my head
james.evans.potter: BEST CINNAMON ROLLS IN THE COUNTRY BAYBEEEEE
lily.evans_potter: I LOVE YOU
james.evans.potter: I LOVE US <3 <3 <3
So, as it turns out, the only thing better than running your own adorable bakery is running your own adorable bakery with your wife, who, after three years, is still making you feel sort of delirious whenever she talks to you and who, despite being literally married, you still can’t quite believe likes you back. And, most importantly, when you bake with, you make the most heavenly perfect baked goods on the planet, every single time.