"Harder… No, faster."
Roderich frowned, eyebrows furrowing. He glanced over through flour covered glasses at the man next to him. Usually, it was Gilbert thinking these things. Well, not that Roderich knew for sure, but sometimes he would say something innocent and Gilbert would grin.
He had taken too long to respond.
"I think I know how to knead dough, Gilbert. I own a bakery, after all."
Gilbert laughed, checking Roderich lightly with his hip. "Yeah, and you always call me over to help with the piecrusts, so shut up."
It was true, Gilbert worked a rolling pin like the knights of old used to wield swords. Roderich, an excellent baker if he said so himself, could never quite get the right thickness for piecrust. It either ended up thinner than a hair or too thick to cook through all the way through.
"I don't have to help, you know…" Gilbert teased, smirk stretching across his face. "I don't like these early morning rendezvous."
Roderich frowned down at his dough. What an odd choice of words. "I don't exactly enjoy when you try to be clever, so it looks like we're an impasse." He reached up to adjust his glasses, smearing more flour onto them.
Gilbert mock gasped and looked around. "Roderich! That's impolite! Someone might hear you."
Roderich took off his glasses, setting them aside. "No one here besides your idiotic bird," he grumbled. The dough was too thin. Roderich massaged it back into a ball and began again.
"I think you mean my darling," Gilbert snapped, eyes wandering over to his canary resting on one of the tabletops; Roderich would have to wipe it down thoroughly. "You look good without your glasses," Gilbert commented quietly, making eye contact briefly.
Lies and flattery. Roderich snorted. "I'm not letting you lick anything."
It was Gilbert's turn for his eyebrows to draw together. Then he laughed. "Aw, come on! One little lick."
Perhaps Roderich should hire an actual employee instead of dragging Gilbert from his house every morning. But… Employees were expensive. And Gilbert was free. And the pies would suffer.
"No," Roderich sighed.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
Roderich realized Gilbert was watching him intently. It was suddenly very dark and very quiet in his bakery. Roderich stopped rolling his dough, checking its thickness. He considered the question. It was true, not much could happen; it was too early. The baker replaced his glasses.
Roderich turned to Gilbert, whose smile froze. Gilbert certainly was something; who had even heard of a successful blogger? How does one even get paid? At least it left Gilbert plenty of time to work out with his brother. It showed.
Yes, Roderich considered the question.
He also considered the three wedding bands he had at home.
"I could lose my piecrust maker," Roderich answered, turning back to the dough. "Besides, you wouldn't know what you were doing."
Gilbert spluttered. "Excuse me. I think I'm perfecting good at s… Uh, rolling piecrusts."
Roderich checked his dough. Too thick.