It must have been a week later when there was a knock at the bakers door. No it was more like a pound. Someone was pounding on his door, as the sun was setting, making way for the night cooling the air like a blow on a wishing flower.

Oliver had just finished cleaning the shop, and was very tired, but still answered the door cheerfully.
"Yes?"

His tired, eyes were confronted with an annoyed looking huntsman.
"Françios!" The baker said excitedly. "How are you? You're not hurt are you?" The male said looking around the male for any wounds.

"I'm fine." He snarled "However, you put bread in my bag. Are you kidding me!?"
"I-I'm sorry?" Oliver said, wondering what had made the huntsman upset.
"I told you I can take care of myself Oliver. Here."
The Huntsman pulled out a pheasant, from his leather bag that hung from his back.
Oliver took the bird, as the blonde huntsman turned his heel, and began walking away from the shop.
"Wait!" Oliver called out catching up with the man.
"Will you stay for dinner?" He asked "I-I can't remember how to properly prepare a bird, so if you could help I would be very grateful."
Françios scowled, but felt the scowl almost come loosed looking at the bakers eyes, his heart thumped in his chest.
"Fine." He growled "We better hurry before someone sneaks into your shop."
"Oh don't worry about that!" Oliver said cheerfully "The robbers here normally ask if I have anything for them, I give them some food if I have any, and then they're on their way."

"You must be rich to afford all of that." Françios said, making his way back to the house.
"No actually." Oliver said "I hardly have enough for myself, but sometimes people need it more than me."
"Has he been starving himself for others?" The blonde male thought. "The idiot."
"Look, Oliver." Françios began "You shouldn't be giving your food what little of it you have to others. People will take advantage of that."
"They don't here normally." Oliver retorted stepping into his home "Besides I have a job, most of the time they don't."
"How do you know?!" The scruffy faced male I a rude, accusing tone. "They could be lying to you, and you're falling for it!"
"I don't know!" Oliver said, setting the bird on the bar counter in the middle of the shop, his thick eyebrows furrowing angrily.
He turned around to the other male saying: "You're right they could be lying, but I choose to believe them!"
"Oliver you soft hearted idiot." Françios mumbled.

Oliver looked defiantly, into the other males eyes, and felt a need on his lips, and heat. He wanted to kiss the man. Not that anyone would care if he did. (This was before religion came to the world mind you.)

The blonde male let out a shaky breath, and shook his head, walking to the pheasant.

"Do you have a knife?" Françios asked changing the subject.

Oliver nodded, and went to grab the needed materials for the bird.
"I thought you said you didn't know how to prepare the bird." Françios said seeing the few supplies.

"I lied." Oliver said "It was a way of asking you to stay for dinner."
Françios could have walked out right then, and there, and Oliver expected him too.
"How did you learn?" The blonde asked, continuing with the bird.
"Well my brothers were hunters, and they were good teachers, and then one day we were fighting, and-" He stopped himself, noticing the Frenchman eyeing him.
"I-I'll go start the fire." The pink haired male said going to the stove, and starting the fire.

"What happened after the fight?" Françios asked, kinda not carrying but his curiosity was getting the better of him.
"Sorry?" Oliver said not sure if he heard him correctly.

"It's rude to stop a story so suddenly. So, what happened after the fight?"

Oliver, stepped away from the stove, and sat on a wooden, unstable front of the man preparing the bird.
"I-I pulled out a knife, my oldest brother did as well, and no one died but we were both pretty injured, him worse than me, I gathered my things, got a doctor, and left."

"That's it?" The blonde asked
"Yes. Why?" The baker asked curiously
"The fight must've been about something horrible then for you two to almost gut each other."
"Actually," Oliver sighed "I don't remember what we fought about."
"What about you?" The smaller male asked playing with a feather

"I'm not one for sharing." Françios said, putting the bird into a pot, that Oliver had laid out.

"It passes the time."
"So does smoking."

"Okay." Oliver sighed, dropping the idea of learning about the mans past "So do you have a wife?"

The blonde hunter shook his head "No, I'm not with anyone. You?"

"No." Oliver sighed.

A few moments of silence later, another questioned tugged at the normally quiet male. He felt comfortable around Oliver, which is why he was probably talking.  

"So why baking?" Françios asked.

"It's easy for me." Oliver said "Goodness, I better light up the house."

The pink haired baker, went to his bedroom grabbing some matches, he went around to some candles lighting them, while the blonde huntsman placed the bird over the fire.

While the bird cooked, the two chatted, though it was harder to get the hunter to talk about himself, he was however interested in the baker, and asked him many things about his life.
When the bird was done, Oliver provided a few cookies he hadn't been able to give out to anyone during the day, and the two ate.

That night Oliver asked if Françios would stay again. Françios wanted to say no, in fact he was about to when a loud crash of thunder, and the pouring of rain stopped him.

"You'll catch a cold if you're on the floor." Françios muttered, knowing that Oliver would offer his bed to Françios again. "Come on it's not a crime if we share a bed for a night." The blonde said.

The two fell asleep quickly together. They were unaware in the night that they had curled up to each other, and were now holding each other like lovers would.