Description (May contain spoilers)

Its a few days before Christmas and Nick Nelson is about to close his bakery for the evening when a familiar curly haired customer walks in.

Inspired by the December 2024 prompt “Gingerbread House”.

TW: As mentioned in the tags there are references to domestic violence in this fic, please take care.

*Ding Ding* chimed the small bell above the door, alerting Nick to a customer walking into his bakery. Glancing at the clock, he thought it was just his luck that someone would come in 10 minutes before he was due to close, especially so close to Christmas. Untying his apron and hanging it on a hook by the door, he ventured into the shop to see who had come in, hoping they didn’t want something complicated.

“Hi!” Nick smiled, “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” He was pleasantly surprised to see the curly haired cutie he’d served just a few days ago standing in front of him.

“Hi,” the smaller man said, looking terrified.

“How can I help?”

“I was, I-” the man stumbled over his words, “I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s too late. Don’t worry, I’ll go,” he said, turning to leave.

Sensing something was wrong, and wanting to help, Nick rushed round the counter and placed a gentle hand on his customer’s arm, “Wait!”

The man looked at Nick’s hand and then up to face him, before either of them knew what was happening, tears were streaming down his cheeks. Reacting on instinct, Nick pulled him into his arms and held him close while he sobbed. Not asking any questions, but just letting him cry until the tears seemed to stop coming.

Once his breathing had calmed down, Nick’s teary companion looked up, his face red and puffy. Apologising quickly for his outburst, he pulled away from Nick’s chest. Releasing him reluctantly, Nick replied, “No need to apologise.”

“Sorry,” the sweet boy said again.

“No s-word,” Nick teased, eliciting a small smile from his visitor. “I’m Nick.”

“Charlie.”

“I’ve just taken a batch of Christmas cookies out of the oven, want to help me taste test them with a cuppa?” Nick asked, not wanting to send Charlie away when he’s so clearly distressed.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, sorry” Charlie babbled.

“What did I say about the S-word?”

Charlie blushed.

“Please, I could use a second opinion,” Nick lied.

“Well- okay then,” Charlie agreed.

“Great, come through.” Nick turned the sign on the door to closed, and flicked the latch shut before leading Charlie to the back of the shop.

Tea in hand, and a plate of warm cookies in front of them, Nick and Charlie settled at a small table at the side of the bakery’s kitchen. They drank in silence at first, Nick not knowing how to ask this relative stranger what had got him so upset.

“Why Scrum?” Charlie asked, breaking the silence first.

“Oh, for the bakery name? I used to be a rugby player and it just seemed to fit.”

“That explains the arms,” Charlie blurted out, causing both boys to blush. Quickly trying to backtrack, “I mean, not that I was-“

Nick placed his hand on Charlie’s on the table, “Hey, it’s okay, you can like my arms,” Nick teased, giving his free arm a little flex. Charlie giggled and the sound filled Nick with joy, he would do anything to hear more of that.

“I didn’t expect to see you back so soon, was something wrong with your order?” Nick asked hesitantly.

“Oh, err, no,” Charlie looked down at the table, toying with a loose thread at the end of the sleeve on his jumper. “I sort of need another gingerbread house. The last one, kinda, got broken.”

“Broken?” Nick asked.

“Well, my boyfriend, Ben,” Charlie started, “He was mad that one of the pastries wasn’t what he wanted, and he was screaming at me that I must have messed up the order.”

Nick felt his jaw clench, worried where this was going, “It wasn’t something I did was it?”

“No!” Charlie said abruptly, desperate to reassure Nick, “I tried to explain, I ordered exactly what he asked me to – I even showed him the message he sent to me. But he was angry, and the nearest thing to him was the gingerbread house you made us. He picked it up and he- and he-“ Charlie paused.

Trying not to let his rising anger show, Nick tentatively asked, “What did he do?”

Letting out a sigh, Charlie replied, “He threw it at me.”

Nick was now positively raging inside, how could anyone want to do anything to hurt this beautiful man. “Are you ok?” Nick asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Yes,” Charlie lied, trying to cover his cheek with his curls – Ben liked Charlie to keep them long so he could tug on them when he was fucking him.

Nick reached forward, causing Charlie to flinch back. “Please,” Nick implored. Charlie leaned forward again, allowing Nick to brush the delicate curls aside. Sure enough, a fresh bruise was starting to spread across the man’s cheek.

“This looks pretty serious Charlie. When did it happen?”

Charlie looked down again, ashamed to see the pity in Nick’s eyes. “This afternoon,” he whispered.

“We need to get some ice on that, or you’ll be black and blue by Christmas.” Nick stood and walked to the large commercial freezer. He filled a small piping bag with ice and brought it back to carefully place it against Charlie’s cheek. He winced at the sudden cold, before rewarding Nick with a small smile, thanking him for his help.

Their fingers brushing as Charlie takes over holding the makeshift ice pack, Nick returns to his seat and hesitates before asking, “Has he? Has he hurt you before?”

Charlie doesn’t reply but his eyes answer for him.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that, why are you with him?” Nick blurted out, he was firmly into ‘ none of your business’ territory now.

When Charlie doesn’t reply for a moment, Nick thinks he’s not going to. He’s about to change the subject when Charlie quietly says, “He’s the only one who wants me.”

Placing a delicate finger under his chin, Nick raises Charlie’s face to look him in the eye, “He’s not the only one Char.”