Beauty and the Baker
Prompt: AU, bakery, red, guilty pleasure
Summary: Working as a pastry chef for one of the nicest restaurants in town can be lonely, given the early hours, but that's one of the things Chef Gold likes about it. That is until someone new starts working the early, early shift too, but it seems Gold doesn't mind the company all that much at all.
Rating: NC-17
Recipient: @winterswanderlust
AN: Hello! I was your super secret rumbelle Santa this year! It was really great talking to you and getting to know you! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you!
As rude awakenings go there wasn’t one worse than waking up before the alarm went off. Rumbert Gold let out a groan and flopped back onto his pillow when he saw the time displayed on his phones screen. He lay there for a moment wishing he could have spent that minute asleep until his alarm began to chirp its annoyingly cheerful tone. Sighing he stat up and stared blearily at the phone screen.
2:01 AM
Rum groaned again and turned his alarm off and got up; a quick shower and slice of buttered toast later he was on the subway. Day in and day out this was his life. Get up before the sun was up, ride down to the waterfront and then fight with the tricky lock on the door that lead into the state of the art kitchen of one of the swankiest restaurants in the city. An hour after he’d dragged himself out of his bed he was ready for the day just as some people were going to sleep.
After storing his stuff in his staff locker he took a moment to look around the large empty kitchen. Two or so hours ago the kitchen had been bustling with energy as chefs finishing up orders. It would have been a chaotic mess of sounds and smells, pans sizzling with vegetables and meats, the clanking of pans as the plongeur attempted to keep up with the hustle and bustle of a kitchen that needed to be spotless at all times. The Avonlea was high end in every meaning of the word; the only flawed thing in the restaurant was the lock in the back that seemed to refuse to be fixed. That was why they had all of their breads and doughs made fresh every morning.
Now it was silent, the guests were gone, the chefs had left after them, and those that had to clean had soon followed too. It was just him now. This was the way Rum liked it; he’d never been good with people, not like he was with baking. Baking was simple, if something went wrong it was easy to tell where a mistake had been made in the recipe, people were harder. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, but he didn’t know how to talk to them. If it came down to it he’d rather try making a dozen soufflés with a tap-dance recital happening next door then fumble his way through a conversation. That was why the early hours didn’t bother him too much, baking made sense, people did not.
Stretching out his arms, getting ready for a long day of lifting and kneading, Rum opened the state of the art pantry to gather the things he’d need to make the several breads and pastries for the day. In the fridge there were several that needed to rest over night before being finished and baked, he’d deal with them once he had made more to replace them for the next day and then…
The sound of a door opening broke his train of thought and almost made him drop the carton of eggs he was holding. His heart began to race as he backed up in the pantry. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else there. The idea of someone breaking in for money or food crossed his mind and the skin on the back of his neck stood up as anxiety slithered threw him and his stomach sank. The alarm should have gone off if it was a burglar, but not if the back door hadn’t closed, had he checked? Of course he had, he checked every day, or did he forget? Was he thinking of yesterday? He tried to take a deep breath to calm down. It was possible he and another baker had been double scheduled, that had happened once in the past. The only problem with that theory was that all bakers worth their salt and sugar knew that to wear heels on the job and he could hear the distinctive click of heels on the kitchen’s sheet rubber floor. Heels that were heading towards the pantry he was cowering in.
Slowly the heavy pantry door opened and Rum tensed as the intruder stepped into the frame of the door. The woman was dressed rather smartly in a blouse and skirt with her chestnut hair pulled back from her face. She was looking down at a clipboard as she stepped further into the pantry and Rum began to feel weak with relief. This wasn’t a well-dressed burglar; it was the owner and head chef’s daughter. Maurice French had told them she’d be coming back from collage soon and would be helping out with keeping track of inventory and things of that nature. He shifted a little uncomfortably at realizing the daughter of his boss was going to find him hiding in the pantry; no doubt that would be shared with anyone and everyone that would listen, and if he wasn’t fired for being lazy he’d be laughed at by the rest of the staff. It was ridiculous to care about what people he barely saw were saying about him, but now that he was thinking about it he couldn’t stop.
His thoughts were interrupted by the floor creaking under him, causing the woman to look up. They locked eyes and she jumped in surprise with a little squeak escaping between her lips.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She said, her colour a bit high in her cheeks. “I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s okay,” Rum replied with a weak smile she returned his smile with one much brighter and stepped a little closer to hold out her hand.
“You must be our baker; I’m Belle French, Chef Maurice’s daughter.” He looked at her hand for a second and then reached out to take it. “It’s so good to meet you.” She said as he did. “Papa told me someone else would be here at 3 but I lost track of time. Sorry again for startling you.”
Words seemed to flow out of Belle in a nonstop rush and Rum was beginning to feel a bit awkward, he wasn’t used to being the centre of attention, especially when that attention was coming from a woman with bright blue eyes that sparkled with verve. They were still shaking hands, but he couldn’t seem to be the first to pull away as she continued to explain who she was. Then finally she broke contact with a self-conscious laugh as she realized they had been shaking hands for longer than was normal.
“I’m sorry, listen to me go on, I haven’t even asked for your name.” Belle said, holding her clipboard to her chest like a shield as her cheeks turned pink.
“Chef Rumbert Gold, at your service.” Rum managed to reply, he could feel his own cheeks beginning to heat.
“It’s nice to meet you, Chef Gold.”
“You can just call me Rum.” He said, the words leaving him before he had a chance to think better of them, the way Belle’s smile widened seemed to make his moment of daring worth it. Clearing his throat he ducked his head. “I should probably get back to work.”
“Oh, of course, I’m so sorry, I should go back to work too.” She seemed somewhat flustered as she turned to leave and then turned back to look at him one last time before leaving the panty. “It was nice to meet you, Rum.” Then she was gone with a little wave.
He returned her wave with one of his own, feeling silly as he did so but being unable to stop himself. Rum wasn’t sure he’d ever met anyone like Belle French; her easy smile made him what to return it with one of his own. After just a short conversation he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. He tried to push thoughts of her away and focus on his work, but while he rolled out dough and glazed fluffy pastries with honey his mind strayed to her.
Over the weeks that followed his infatuation only seemed to grow. Belle always stayed late after the restaurant closed so she was there when he came in and soon it became a new part of his routine to spend a few minutes with her talking about anything and everything. It started with simple things, talking about the weather, or lamenting being up so early, but soon their conversations turned to new topics. A favourite of his was when Belle talked about the latest book she was reading, her eyes would light up as she described the world and the people that inhabited it and acted out the story that had her so entranced. More than a few times he’d found a copy of the book she was in the middle of to read for himself, it made the conversations more lively when he was able to make informed replies, or even argue an opinion.
Soon they began taking their breaks at the same time and their conversations drifted from books to more personal things. Belle had noticed he often ended up limping near the end of his shifts and he opened up to her about the accident he’d been in as a younger man that had crushed his ankle. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but something about Belle made him want to share with her. He told her about the brace he had to wear most days so he could stand for so long. She’d reached for his hand across the table after he’d finished telling her his story, he looked up into her bright blue eyes and for the first time in his life he didn’t feel the same shame he always did when thinking about his lame leg.
Every day they talked, and every day he became a little more smitten. Rum knew it wouldn’t amount to anything. Belle was young and vibrant and could have any man she wanted, she wouldn’t give him a second look; and even if by some chance she did feel for him as he felt for her, it wasn’t possible for them to be together. As a co-worker and the daughter of his boss it would be highly inappropriate for them to be in a relationship. He would have to continue being content with their daily discussions, it was enough for him, it was more than he ever expected when their first met.
Rum expected nothing to ever change, until it suddenly did.
He was in the middle of washing his hands up to his elbows between desserts when there was a sudden crash and scream from the dining room where Belle did her work. He turned away from the sink, removing his foot from the lever that replaced the usual faucet. It was handy to keep ones hands clean after taking care to wash them, and in this case it allowed him to dash out of the kitchen without having to take a second to turn off the water.
Rum pushed his way through the door mere seconds after Belle had screamed and found her standing several feet away from a broken light fixture that had fallen from the ceiling. He felt his heart sink as he took in the scene before him. The dining room was a beautiful mix of deep reds and golds, the décor was immaculate, nary a thing out of place most days. Today wasn’t one of those days. If Belle had been sitting one table over she would have been crushed by the heavy light.
“Belle!” He ran to her side, his hands hovering over her as he checked her for injuries. “Are you alright?” Rum asked, some of the fear he felt slipping into his voice. She was still looking at the light and the broken table under it until he touched her shoulder. “Belle?”
“What? Oh, y-yes, I’m okay.” She said, turning to look at him as if he’d broken some kind of trance. “I almost sat there.” Belle told him and he felt his stomach twist at the thought of losing her.
Her eyes seemed to study him for a long moment and then, before he knew it her arms where around him and her lips were against his. Surprise made him freeze and feeling his still lips against hers Belle began to pull away, an apology on her tongue, but he stopped her with a kiss of his own. The kiss was desperate and frantic and a little messy, it was perfect. Rum’s hands trembled as he pulled her closer while they kissed. He had never imagined this would happen, and having it happen so soon after her brush with disaster was too much for him. He could have lost her, he almost had. As he kissed her the thought occurred to him that Belle herself might be overwhelmed by what had just happened.
As he pulled away her lips followed his. “Belle,” He murmured. “You’ve had a shock.”
Belle pulled away herself this time, but her arms still stayed wrapped around his shoulders. “I have, but I’ve wanted to do this for weeks now.”
“Y-you have?” Rum asked. She nodded and he swallowed hard. “I have too.” He admitted.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling; then she was kissing him and he lost sight of her eyes as they closed, but he kept his open. Rum was still unable to believe that Belle was kissing him, that she wanted to kiss him. He savoured the feeling of her in his arms, enjoying the swell of her breasts against his chest and the way she seemed to fit against him perfectly. Belle sighed into his kiss and he let his tongue tease her lips open for him. Both of them moaned as he flicked the tip of his tongue against the roof of her mouth. In return Belle tangled her hands in his hair, letting her nails scratch his scalp; he groaned low in his throat.
Between them his cock pressed insistently against her thigh as she wiggled and then pulled away. His stomach twisted in shame as she left his embrace. He’d ruined it, his body’s excitement had scared her away and now she was going to never let him touch her again. He opened his mouth to apologize but the words got stuck in his throat as she hopped up on the table she’d been sitting at before the light had fallen and pulled him closer to capture his mouth in another fierce kiss. Belle’s legs wrapped around his waist as she did so, her skirt hiking up as she did so. Rum pressed a hand to the table to keep balance as the other one grasped her bare thigh, her nylon stockings only went up past her knees. Moaning again he broke their kiss to presses desperate adulations long her jaw and down her neck, stopping to nibble at a spot that made her gasp and roll her hips against his. His hand was squeezing her thigh now, if he wasn’t careful he’d mark her creamy skin but he couldn’t seem to stop, she drove him mad.
One of Belle hands moved from his hair to grasp his hand on her thigh and began to move it higher up until he could feel the heat from her core through her underwear.
“Rum, touch me.” She said, her voice breathless and needy.
Whimpering helplessly he had no choice but to obey, Belle’s wishes were his command. He was rewarded by a soft whine of his name as he teased her through the cotton of her panties. Rum watched her bite her lower lip as she moved against his hand, trying her best to get him to touch her where she wanted him. He continued his ministrations, trying to drive her as mad as she was driving him. The hand resting on the table moved to grasp her hip and then move up her side, then down again; his other hand mimicking his movements, up almost to her straining desperate bundle of nerves that so needed his attention, and then down to her entrance to circle, then all over again. She felt as strung tight as a bow string, her body quivering in his arms. Working with dough every day gave him strong and sure fingers with total control over how he touched her.
“Do you want me to touch you?” He asked. It was bold, more daring then he was, but Belle brought out things in him he hadn’t even known he was capable of.
“Yes,” Belle sobbed in want and frustration.
With nary another word he pinched her clit making her whimper, her nails digging into his shoulder as the other returned to his hair to pull. The pain made him gasp but he ignored the siren song of ecstasy and focused on Belle. Rum rubbed her swollen nub as she tensed and shook in his arms, prolong the pleasure he had managed to give her. Her lower lip was red and abused from how hard she had been biting it and he couldn’t help but lean down and take it between his lips for sipping kisses. She kissed him back languidly as her breathing returned to normal and then leaned back to catch her breath.
He felt himself smile as he took in her flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Then she looked at him and smiled mischievously, pulling him back to her for a searing kiss that made his smile fell away as he groaned. Belle’s hands had made their way to the buckle of his pants. His hips bucked against her hands and then hissed as she pulled his cock out from his boxers. She pushed until his pants and underwear were around his ankles and then took grasp of his throbbing member to place her between her legs, with her other hand she pushed aside her underwear and guided him into her molten core. With a shuddering sigh he slowly began to trust deeper into her. He pressed his forehead against hers as he tried to keep himself in check.
Belle tilted her head up and kissed him again. “It’s your turn.” She whispered against his lips.
“Belle,” He moaned. “Oh Belle.”
Shakily Rum began to slowly move deeper into Belle’s welcoming passage. The heat her body threatened to burn him alive, but there would be no sweeter way to go then held in her arms. He was sure he had worked with ovens less scorching then Belle’s kisses and tasted confections less sweet then the airy sounds she made as he used shallow and deliberate thrusts to prolong the pleasure of being with her. With each thrust he panted her name, he couldn’t seem to stop. Every word he’d ever known was replaced with her name as the feel of her surrounding him, holding him, drove him mad. Even at his slow and measured pace he could feel his end racing towards him, to stave off the inevitable Rum rested more weight on his band ankle, the pain letting him focus on bringing Belle more pleasure. Her nails where leaving lines of fire along his scalp again and she sighed and whimpered; she had wrapped her legs around him more tightly at some point and was grinding her hips against his, she urged him on moaning for him to go faster and he complied.
Hearing her gasping his name the warm breath of her words a gentle puff against his ear, was too much for him. Rum was holding onto sanity by a mere thread, soon he would explode from sheer bliss, but he desperately wanted Belle to be there with him too. He moved one his hands that had found its way to her hip down to tease and play with her clit, pulling a low whine from her throat. He felt her hips jerk against his; she was so close, Rum could feel it, her inner walls beginning to flutter around his thrust cock. Shifting his angle he thrust a few more times, it was only a miracle he was able to last until he hit the spot he had been aiming for. Belle tensed in his arms and let out a sob, her inner muscles clamping down on him hard at the same moment he felt his pleasure rip through him. Lights burst behind his eyes as he squeezed them closed and pressed Belle close to his chest, his heart feeling like it would burst out of his chest. When the waves of pleasure began to subside he realized he was breathless like he’d run a marathon.
Rum nuzzled Belle’s cheek, too weak to kiss her as she ran her hands slowly across his back. They stayed together for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of simply being together. When they could finally move without worry of falling down Belle and Rum looked at each other and began to giggle uncontrollably. They shared another kiss and rubbed their noses together.
“Most of my friends have baked goods for a guilty pleasure,” Belle hummed. “But I have the whole baker as mine.”
