Throughout the day, Oliver's haze slowly dissipated. Only 'grinning and baring' proved to be the best way to deal with it. However, he kept the 'closed' sign for the bakery out to the world. Since the flat was almost always tidy, and Allen ducked out to check in with the pals he had been staying with, the baker was left on his own. The silence was easier to be around this time.

He had a phone call to make anyway. Using the downstairs phone, Oliver dialed, and a devious smile came to him easily. After a few rings, the other line picked up to a grumbling voice, "Hello?"

"Matt, it is Oliver. I have something to tell you."

A moment of silence for something to rustle on the other side before, "Go on then."

Oliver took a deep breath. "Your brother is back."

"What?" Matt snapped.

"Allen came back. He is out of juvenile detention now."

"Are you shitting me?!"

"Err...no, there is none of that involved in this business."

"Is he there now?"

"No, but he is supposed to be back soon. He went to get things from a buddy's place."

"I'm coming over there, Oliver."

Oliver slapped a hand over his mouth, giggling. "See you soon!" The line died, and he set the phone back on its receiver. He waited and hummed behind the counter, passing the time with a miniature sewing project. His smile grew without looking up as a figure passed by the window and opened the door.

"What'chu doin' there, Ollie?"

"Knitting."

"Knittin'?!" Allen echoed. A snicker escaped him.

Oliver slowly looked up, narrowing his eyes despite his endless smile. "Is there something funny about that?"

Allen's own grin fell immediately. "Nothin' at all, babe." He shifted foot to foot, free from the baker's look when it went back to the floral pattern. "I...uh, I got kicked out of my buddy's apartment."

"What?" Oliver lowered the weaving onto the counter. He noticed the straps of a ragged gym bag around Allen's shoulders. "You ought to think twice about seeing him as a buddy, though."

"You think!" Allen snorted. "We were just chillin' at the bar, an' I stepped away to take a leak, only to come out to Luciano's gang chasin' 'em away. So they're blamin' me fo' that."

Oliver drew in a dainty gasp, and clasped the hands clenched on the counter. "That is awful!" He announced in his feint horror, "Do not fret over them anymore, dear."

"How can I not be frettin'? I got nowhere to go!"

"Are you sure about that?"

Allen seemed confused at the baker's grin. "Uh, yeah. I'm too old to go back to the House, an' I ain't gon' bother my bro, wherever he is now. Siegmund's probably wit' him, right?"

Oliver could only stare at his company with a blank look. "You really are an idiot."

"What? I wasn't doin' anythin'!"

He clamped his hands on Allen's, forcing (and startling) him to look him in the eye. Did he have to spell it out? "My bed has been a tad cold as of recent."

"You're talkin' 'bout beds now? Maybe y'should get more blankets."

The baker felt his face starting to burn from irritation and embarrassment. He tried to not let his smile twitch from the other's lost expression. "Why, when you can have the same effect?"

"You want me to warm your bed?" Allen asked, still bewildered. He blinked a few times, and the mental gears kicked to life. His eyes widened, "Oh! You're askin' if I want to crash at your place?"

Oliver dipped his head to tap his forehead against their clasped hands in a gesture of madness. "Yes, you...you..." He was unable to come up with an appropriate name at the time. "It is not like anyone else is going to live with me."

"They ain't?"

"No, Allen," Oliver said sharply, picking up his head again. "Are you going to stay or not?"

"You shittin' me?" The other man asked, just like his brother.

"No, Allen," the baker repeated.

Allen smiled and looked to the ceiling as if he were the luckiest guy in the world. "Oh, man!"

Oliver lifted a hand to grab his chin, and bring his gaze level to his own. "Before you get too excited, this is my flat, and my bakery. Anything and anyone you bring, I expect to be taken to me first."

"Heh, of course, Ollie. Just tell me how much rent you need-"

"I do not need your money." As if Allen had any to give! "Your rent will be your help around the house and bakery. Some days, I do not get a chance to clean up the place."

"I can do that!"

"That is what I like to hear." Oliver closed their distance with a long-waited kiss. At least his company had enough head on his shoulders to appropriately respond to that, snaking an arm around his waist to rub small patterns against the small of Oliver's back. However, it was impossible to cram a year's worth of smooches in the time their chests started to burn for air, rather than one another.

"Damn," was all Allen said, breathless against Oliver's lips before continuing down his cheek and jaw.

Oliver giggled to match his flushed complexion. His eyes flickered to the door, and his titters only grew more furious. "Allen, you have a visitor."

The other man straightened up, darting his tongue out in a confused expression. He followed Oliver's gaze to the front door, where a looming figure stood, peering in. Allen's rosy cheeks paled as his face grew horrified, worsened as Matt raised a hand to drag his blunt nails down the glass. "Oh...oh shit," Allen managed. He whipped around to scramble pass the counter, fleeing to the back of the bakery. His brother threw open the door, storming inside with his hands balled into threatening fists.

"He went out the rear door, just pass the kitchen," Oliver said. Matt curtly nodded, and lumbered after Allen as an animalistic growl rose from his throat. The baker rested against the counter, hands tucked under his chin, humming innocently to cover the sound of the back door being slammed shut.

"What's happening?" A voice asked from on top of his head.

Oliver jumped slightly, smiling uneasily from his small scare. "You just missed something good, Lila. Matt is going to hunt down his brother."

"That is not good!" The fairy exclaimed, shuffling around his hair. She stopped to take a sniff. "You seem better."

"Oh, I am," the man announced smugly. "I have just landed myself a new housemate."

"Really? It better not be a creeper!"

"Unless you consider Allen a creeper, than it is not."

Lila gasped, "Are you serious? That's great, Ollie!"

Oliver's cheeks pinked again. "I-it has been empty for so long with just me."

"And me!" Lila said. "Are you still going to get a pet?"

"If Allen wants one, too. It also affects him now. He may be allergic."

"I wouldn't blame him."

Oliver picked up his sewing as the fairy talked about how well the new blooms were, and tid-bits of the previous night, much to his disdain. He gritted his teeth, smiling strangely, but not nodding; that would disturb her perch. His threading pace increased in excitement of nearly completing it, and plucked the string from the needle. He finished the design with a knot in the back before holding it up.

"Ooh! Pretty!" Lila granted, "They look like the ones back home! My home, that is."

"I am thinking about either framing it, or sewing it on a pillow. What do you think?"

The front door swung open before Lila replied. Allen had a hand covering his cheek, eyes distant (and possibly haunted) as he lumbered to the counter. Oliver set down his work and motioned him to come closer. "Let me see the damage."

Allen rolled his eyes before removing his hand. His cheek was already puffing out with a horrible bruise, obviously a punch mark. "He had the balls to hug me after he done did this."

"Matt missed you," Oliver lightly pressed his fingertips to the angry marks, causing the bearer to hiss and flinch. He quickly retracted his hand to rub the uninjured side of his company's face, and his voice dropped, "I am afraid I missed you more, dear."

The other man clutched onto his hand to furiously nuzzle his palm. "You're gon' have to take that to Matt. Can I get some ice?"

"Of course," the baker retracted with a little laugh as he waltzed into the kitchen. Lila snickered from his head, suspicious as always. "What is that about?"

"You're so mushy, Oliver," she announced as he grabbed an easy pack of ice to wrap it in a dishtowel.

"So what?!" He squawked, and sharply sighed at more of the fairy's titters. A sense of déjà-vu smacked him in the face when he emerged beneath the door frame, grasping a wrapped cold pack due to Allen's facial injuries. The bakery may have been lonelier than it had been that time, but he smiled none the less from Allen scrutinizing his embroidery piece. He squinted and moved it closer to his face before leaning back, and forward again. "Are you all right?"

Allen snapped his head up from slumping against the counter, and set down the fabric. He eagerly took the ice pack, and asked, "They supposed to be flowers?"

"Of course," Oliver grimaced at the pattern. "Do they not look like flowers?"

Lila assured him, "They do!"

The other man shifted the towel against his swollen cheek, letting his eyes slip close from a contented sigh. "They do. I just...uh..."

Oliver asked again, "Allen, are you all right?"

"Yeah, babe," his company gestured lamely around his eyes before jerking his hand away. "M-my bro sucker punched me."

"He must have punched you hard then."

The fairy laughed hard enough to start gasping for air. "Y-you should ask how many fingers you're holding up!"

Oliver did not know what she was up to, but did so anyway. "Allen, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Allen craned his head back, eying the digits in confusion. "Three. Why you wonderin' that?"

The baker caught on what Lila was hinting at. "Allen, can you...how bad is your eyesight?"

"Not bad!"

"You could not tell these were flowers on here."

"I don't see that many flowers."

"You do know what they look like though, right?"

Allen groaned, lolling his head to the side in a dramatic gesture of annoyance. "Yeah, I can't see. Everythin' is blurry up close, but it's been like that since I was a kid."

Lila gaffed, "Told you!"

Oliver ignored her. "You are fine with that?"

"I guess I'm used to it."

"You guess?"

"It's gotten worse, but you know."

"The only thing I know about this is that you are going to running into walls soon, if that is the case."

"What do you want me to do 'bout it?!"

"Get glasses?"

"Fuck no!"

"Err...yes?"

"I'd look like a dork!"

Oliver told him fondly, "You are a dork."

"Fine, a nerd."

"You will be able to see. Do you want to see the trees and pretty flowers?" The baker leaned to the side, meeting his partner's slump against the counter, and brushed away the wet strands of hair wedged beneath the leaking ice pack. "Do you want to see me?"

Despite his eyebrows scrunching in a nerving bunch, a smile teased Allen's lips. "Shit, I don't really got a choice, do I?"

"Would you want me to answer that honestly?"

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

Later in that day, Oliver clamped a hand on Allen's wrist in case he had any plans of bolting, like a dog being pulled by a leash when it does not want to walk. Lila assured the baker, "Don't worry! I'll be here!"

He jabbed a finger at the fairy on the other side of the glass once Allen was situated in the passenger's seat. "You better not get into anything!"

"I'm not!"

Oliver narrowed his eyes, giving the window a last poke at her giggle before withdrawing to the car. Once settled, Allen leaned against the car door to give him a bizarre look. "Babe, did you just yell at your bakery?"

"Um...yes." Oliver shook his head, and worried about pulling away from the curb without getting his vehicle smashed from ongoing traffic.

"I've seen it all," Allen said. "These glasses better not be those large square ones that make my eyes all buggy an' scary."

"We will get you what you need."

Allen insisted, "They gotta be cool glasses."

Oliver glanced from the road to his passenger. "Of course. You can also get prescription contacts."

"Eugh, no! I don't wanna be touchin' my eyeballs all day."

The baker only sniggled in reply. A small general store greeted them, and he slipped from the car more quickly and willingly than the other man. He breezed around the car to clasp Allen's hand, towing him into the shop. "If you see anything you want, let me know."

"I already got what I want," Allen claimed, bumping their hips together.

Oliver squeezed his hand, leading him to a rack of glasses not to far from the entrance. "Dork." He seemed to be the only one truly browsing the collection. "Ooh, how about these? Are these your eye indicator, or is it too much?"

Allen blinked against the lens that his partner put in front of him. "Nah, it's better than without 'em, but it's still a lil' fuzzy."

The baker removed those glasses and gave him another pair with a much higher intensity. "These? Aren't they cute!"

"I ain't aimin' fer cute," the other man grumbled, but put the new lens before his eyes, only to flinch, pulling them away. "Wow, that hurt!"

"Too much," Oliver tisked, and grabbed something from the middle. "Try these."

Allen did, blinking in surprise. "Wow," he slowly looked around the store.

"I assume they are all right."

"Yeah, they're pretty all right." He turned his gaze to Oliver. A dopey smile reached his (bruised) face as he pinched one of his cheeks. "Look at you wit' all 'em lil' freckles."

"Quit it," Oliver lightly swatted at his invading hand, sniggling anyway. He pointed to the small mirror above the selection of other glasses. "You should look at yourself."

"What the fuck?" Allen demanded, curling his lips at his reflection. "You gave me the ugliest glasses they have!"

"I did not! They are nice!"

Allen ripped the glasses away. "They're ol' man glasses!"

Oliver snatched the lens, but gently set them back on their slot. "You complain like one, so they match!" He grabbed another pair, tipping them back experimentally. "What about these? They are glasses indoors, but if you go outside, they turn into shades."

"Shit, really?" Allen gingerly took the frames. "They got somethin' like that?" He saw the tag in the reflection. "They're expensive!"

"That does not matter. Do you like them or not?"

"They're cool." He put his hand under his chin to attempt an alluring expression in the mirror. "'Sup?"

"All right, stud-muffin," Oliver patted his backside. "If those are what you want, then we should keep shopping."

"Cool," Allen repeated, parading after him with the new glasses.

Oliver hovered by the selection of pet beds, and reached out to squeeze the soft materials. "I have been wanting to get a cat, or something to liven up the flat a little." Without a reply, he looked behind himself to see Allen gawking at one of the aisles. "Is there something that caught your attention?"

Obviously, as Allen stepped into the aisle, and out of sight. Oliver hurried to him, for his own safety. The other man reached to a high shelf to pulled down a giant rectangular shaped wrapper. "Ollie, look at this."

"It is chocolate."

"Yeah, but look at the size of this thing! There's gotta be like, a pound in here!"

"I am sure it is worth more than a few pounds."

He knew what was coming next. "Can I...can I get it?"

"Do you plan on eating it in one sitting?"

"What?" Allen snorted, glancing around the store. "That's stupid!"

"You would do it anyway."

"So?"

Oliver made a motion to surrender the chocolate. "I am getting some of it, too!"

"Sure. I won't feel bad 'bout eatin' it then."

Blehps:

Oliver lifted a hand to grab his (Allen's) chin, and bring his gaze level to his own. "Listen here, you little slut. This is my crib. If you plan on bringing any dope or prostitutes here, you better bring enough for the both of us!"

"Wowza! Sure thing, babe!"