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Chapter Text

Nestled in the heart of the small town, stood a charming teal house. It was built for the purpose of serving as a railway ticket booking office. Through the years, it welcomed many eager travellers and adventurers with open doors.

But fate had different plans in store for the teal house. The king wanted the railway station relocated to a grander town, leaving the teal abode behind. A young affluent man happened to stumble upon the teal house, its vibrant hue stood out and it captured his heart. Without hesitation, the young man bought the teal house from the town, transforming it into a magical boutique for his dear wife. Together, they adorned it with love, grace, and exquisite taste. They even summoned the hands of builders to add two extra levels to the building, a sanctuary where they could craft their own fairy tale.

But the young man's destiny took an unexpected turn. After his father's unexpected passing, he inherited his father's prosperous business. With a heavy heart, he and his dear wife embarked on a new chapter, accompanied by a merry band of seven children, who had been born and blossomed within the teal house's walls.

The teal house witnessed the comings and goings of countless families throughout the years. Many different businesses were established, some flourished, others failed. Like a nurturing guardian, the house embraced each new arrival, becoming a haven of growth, love and family. It measured the heights of the children that danced beneath its roof, engraving their milestones onto Its walls. 

An old woman, who had grown up in the house and inherited it from her parents, transformed the teal house into a cosy bakery. But after her passing the house found itself abandoned, forgotten amidst the now encroaching cityscape that threatened to swallow it whole. The house became a hidden gem, only the chosen few possessed the magic to see it. It would remind its passerby of the dancing waves of the sea.

But a new family, like none other, would soon stumble upon the forgotten teal house. The teal house immediately knew that they were a peculiar bunch, their hearts dancing to a melody that only they could hear. Misfit puzzle pieces, abandoned and alienated by a society that failed to understand their vibrant spirits.

With their wide eyes brimming with curiosity, they uncovered the teal house's hidden magic. They brushed away the layers of neglect and breathed life into its dusty corners. The aroma of home, once again, filled every nook and cranny. Flour danced in the sunlight, sugar sparkled like stardust, and the heavenly scent of freshly baked delights wove its way through the rooms. 

This is the story of that particular peculiar family. 

Chapter Text

Andreas and Alexander, with a mixture of nervousness and excitement, fixed their gaze upon their younger brother, Aristotle. The trio had recently been ousted from their apartment by their landlord due to their late rent payments. To worsen matters, their own mother, who was supposed to send them the much-needed funds, had suddenly stopped. They had not heard from her for years, but she would still send them enough to pay their rent.

The task of finding another place to live had become a difficult one, but Andreas and Alexander had assured their younger brother Aristotle that they would handle it.

Aristotle, however, was quite perplexed by their declaration to "handle it." He wasn't entirely certain if he wanted to delve into the details. After all, his brothers were not exactly the epitome of law-abiding citizens.

"Picture this, brother," Alexander exclaimed, "this place used to be a bakery. But imagine, if we transformed it into a gentlemen's club for subs! We would handle the bar, and you could unleash your extraordinary cooking skills, concoct the most scrumptious sandwiches, and sell them. We would make a fortune!"

Aristotle wanted to roll his eyes at his brother's dramatics, instead, his eyes lit up with delight as he casted his gaze upon the abandoned bakery kitchen. "I love it!" he admitted.

"Wait until you see the living space upstairs," Alexander continued with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Aristotle had previously noticed that the building boasted three stories. His favorite aspect was the enchanting teal color that adorned the exterior of the building. The thought of exploring it filled him with anticipation, although he had to temper his excitement. "How on earth did you guys even find this place? We can't just move in, what if it belongs to someone?" Aristotle said.

"We won it!" Alexander declared with a proud grin.

Aristotle's brothers engaged in poker games with individuals Aristotle did not particularly approve of. They had affiliations with the shadier elements of society. They were a bad influence.

Andreas, lacking in verbosity, responded with a happy grunt at their victory.

Andreas had always been a boy of few words.

During their younger years, when their mother was still present, she took him to the doctor in search of answers about his quiet nature. However, the doctor assured her that there was nothing amiss with the young boy.

In the eyes of his brothers, Andreas stood as a gentle giant, the eldest among them. While they shared the same dark copper hair, Andreas possessed a countenance adorned with a constellation of freckles, his visage further enhanced by the captivating allure of emerald green orbs that shimmered with life. Dimples danced across his face like playful secrets whenever he showed his radiant smile. His towering and muscular frame bestowed upon him an undeniable charm.

"The previous owner didn't really know what to do with the place. He inherited it from his grandmother, but he found himself short on cash last night. So, he gambled this house away," Alexander explained, his tone brimming with pride.

As Alexander spoke, Aristotle's gaze wandered towards the window. The neighbouring structures followed the usual path, their stairways leading gracefully to the sidewalks and cobbled streets. the teal-hued house stood amidst an overgrown front yard, its grounds adorned with a tapestry of untamed gravel.

Aristotle turned to face his brother, "And what happens when they eventually discover that you two cheated?" Aristotle asked.

"How dare you, we didn't cheat!" Alexander retorted indignantly.

Aristotle turned his gaze toward Andreas, who wore a sheepish expression on his face. Andreas was never quite adept at deceiving his younger brother.

Although Aristotle's age lagged behind his brothers by merely a year and two, he took it upon himself to care for them, attending to their needs by washing their clothes, preparing their meals, and tending to their wounds whenever they engaged in dumb fights. Andreas and Alexander would protect their little brother with their lives. They couldn't fathom a world without him, even though Alexander occasionally found Aristotle's incessant fussing mildly annoying.

Meanwhile, Andreas found comfort in it.

Drawing closer to his little brother, Alexander locked eyes with him. One of the most captivating aspects of Alexander's appearance was his mismatched eyes. One eye resembled the hue of golden honey, while the other, Aristotle realized at that moment, closely resembled the very teal paint that adorned their newfound house. Alexander and Aristotle shared one other similarity - the captivating hue that embellished Alexander's one eye resonated with the identical blue that sparkled in both of Aristotle's eyes.

Aristotle often felt insecure when he beheld his brothers. They possessed an undeniable handsomeness that seemed to captivate all the doms around them. Aristotle, with his vibrant blue eyes, dark copper hair and a smattering of freckles akin to his eldest brother, bore the physical resemblance, but he remained smaller in stature and possessed a slightly fuller figure. Throughout his upbringing, he had endured relentless bullying due to this. Although Aristotle had shed most of the weight during puberty, he still held a dissatisfied view of himself whenever he glanced in the mirror.

"Ari, I promise you, they will never discover our little secret. This place is ours now, and we shall no longer endure the wretchedness of that awful boarding house," Alexander assured him. The boarding house they had been living in since being kicked out by their landlord wasn't that bad, thought Aristotle.  

Alexander had always been dramatic. 

Ari let out a weary sigh. They really had no other choice. Their funds were dwindling rapidly, and it was likely they would face eviction from the boarding house in the near future. 

"Fine" Aristotle reluctantly said. 

His brothers erupted into cheers. 

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"We're not transforming this space into a club; we're making it a coffee house and bakery," Ari confidently declared during their first family meeting in the new house. "I've already begun revamping the rooftop, making an outdoor area and repairing the little greenhouse."

Alexander did not like the sound of that at all, "But that's not cool! A gentlemen's club would be much cooler,'' he said. 

Andreas chimed in with his own disapproving grunt, echoing Alexander's sentiment.

Ari let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Guys, we're still too young to drink alcohol, let alone serve it."

Alexander nonchalantly dismissed his concerns, "Oh, come on! We won't get caught."

"No, you two! Absolutely no illicit business will take place within our home, do you understand me?" Ari firmly asserted.

His older brothers remained silent, seemingly unfazed by his warning.

"I will not hesitate to drag both of you to the discipline centre if I catch wind of any illegal activities," Ari threatened. His brothers were aware that he meant business, having witnessed his resolve in the past.

Alexander crossed his arms and pouted. 

The discipline centre stood as a haven for submissives without dominants, offering a sanctuary where discipline was sought, not always out of desire, but rather out of necessity. Just as their bodies and minds craved water to sustain them, they yearned for the structure and guidance that discipline provided. Without it, they would get sick. Their upbringing had exposed them to the grim sight of both sick dominants and submissives forcefully torn from their homes, and sent to institutions. 

"Listen, when we all reach the age of 25, we can consider transforming this place into a club or anything else you desire," Ari offered, attempting to reason with his brothers.

Ari, being 17 years old, Alexander at 18, and Andreas at 19, were still minors according to the law. Although one could seek emancipation at 16, having a parent or, in some cases, a dom would retain authority until the age of 25. The trio had raised themselves, as their mother had vanished from their lives when Ari was just eight years old. Unaware of their father's identity, or even if they shared the same father, they relied on each other. 

"I would like a meeting with our dear monarch to discuss these preposterous laws" Alex grumbled.

"Well, you could write a letter to the royal court," Ari suggested. 

"Ah, the palace, a splendid abode to plunder,"  Alexander said, earning an approving nod from Andreas.

Ari gazed at them, horrified. 

"It's just a joke, brother," Alexander said.  

Ari was not so sure. 

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After three months of settling into the teal house, the boys had finally found their rhythm. Alex and Andreas managed to enlist the assistance of a cleaning and a construction company for free, the companies apparently owed them a 'favour'. 

Ari deeply appreciated the house's original charm and had strived to preserve its cosy atmosphere. The majority of the space had undergone a thoughtful refinishing and repainting process. 

The living space on the second floor had a smaller kitchen area that seamlessly flowed into a snug living room. There was also a charming bay window, adorned with comfortable seating and a dining table.  When they ascended to the third floor, they discovered additional bedrooms, each with its unique allure. 

The study on the second floor was Ari's favourite room. Nestled within its walls were numerous built-in bookcases, stretching even around the window and door. There was even a gorgeous desk that had been left behind by the previous owners. Ari claimed it as his bedroom. Alexander had claimed the master bedroom, eager to savour the luxury it offered. Meanwhile, Andreas had gazed longingly at the room adorned with stars painted on the ceiling and was happy when no one claimed it. He was determined to make it his. 

And then there was the rooftop—a hidden gem. Ari's green thumb had worked its magic, as his garden had bloomed with an array of vegetables. And with the helping hands of the construction crew, they built a pergola in which they suspended patio lights beneath. Their nights had mostly been spent up there. 

The majority of the furniture in their current setup had been left by the previous owners, and some were from their previous apartment. Following their eviction, they had secured a storage unit to house their belongings. As for the new additions, particularly the furnishings for the rooftop area and the coffee house and bakery, Ari had absolutely no clue where they had come from. He had purposefully chosen not to inquire about how his brothers had acquired them.

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Anticipation was coursing through Ari's veins. He could not sleep. They were opening their coffee house and bakery early tomorrow.

Before the dawn broke, he immersed himself in a bath, taking his time to revel in the comforting warmth. Then, with purpose in his step, he ventured into the garden, plucking some of the vegetables it had to offer, which he then transported to the bakery. He busied himself with preparing the morning sandwiches, his speciality. The sandwiches contained secret sauces that he has dedicated considerable time perfecting. Today's special would be simple, bacon, egg and cheese sandwich. One of his brothers' favourite aspects of Ari's sandwiches was their immense sizes. When the sandwiches were done and lined carefully in the counter fridges, Ari proceeded to bake more bread, croissants, lemon cakes, cinnamon rolls, and blueberry and chocolate muffins. 

The fragrant aroma of Ari's baking wafted through the air, waking his sleeping brothers. Andreas walked into the bustling kitchen, a plate of fried eggs and toast in hand. "Eat," he commanded Ari, his voice left no room for refusal.

Ari took the plate, he also seized the opportunity to request assistance in the juicing process, entrusting Andreas with the task of pouring the fresh juice into glass bottles. Ari's arm had grown weary from the relentless pressing of oranges, and he knew his brother's muscular arms were better for the job. 

Alexander, meanwhile, ventured outside to place the handwritten chalkboard sign in front of the establishment. They kept it simple and named it: The Teal House. The aroma of the bakery gradually filled the winding cobbled streets nearby. 

Soon, the first customers arrived. Aristotle's heart swelled with emotion as he observed people delighting in his sandwiches and pastries. Although the place wasn't packed, they received a more significant number of customers than they had anticipated, and many left contented, promising to return. Some customers even attempted to flirt not only with his brothers but also with Ari himself. One even scolded Alexander upon hearing him curse. 

After enjoying some of the bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches for lunch, Alex and Andreas claimed they had important matters to attend to and assured Ari they would return for dinner. Even without his brothers there to help, Ari flawlessly managed the operations of The Teal House—as if he had been doing it for years. 

An hour passed, and Ari finally felt that the place was settling down. In strolled a woman clutching a little boy's hand and cradling a sleeping baby. Ari could sense she was a dom. The expression on her face was a mix of stress and determination, while the little boy seemed frustrated and sad.

Aristotle's eyes widened as he looked closer at the two little boys.

"Are you one of the Remington brothers?" the woman asked

"Yes, ma'am," Ari responded, absently. 

Without warning, she handed the baby over to Ari, almost thrusting the tiny bundle into his arms. "Uh, ma'am—" he started to protest.

"Tell your mother that her children are not my responsibility anymore!" she declared before storming out of the shop, leaving behind the two children in Ari's care.

Caught off guard, Ari looked down at the baby in his arms. Confusion washed over him as he tried to make sense of the situation. 

Your mother.

"Uh, what is—" Ari began, his words trailed off.

"I can have some of those?" the little boy pointed at the tempting display of pastries.

"What? Where's your mom going!?" Ari exclaimed. 

"She's not our mama," the boy responded. 

Ari looked around the shop, which was now empty of customers, Ari swiftly closed the entrance door and flipped the sign to "closed." He took a deep breath to steady himself. That's when he noticed a few bags outside the door. They must belong to the children. He brought them in with one hand while holding the baby with the other. 

"Please!" the boy pleaded as he eyed one of the cinnamon rolls.

Ari took a moment to compose himself before retrieving a plate and placing a cinnamon roll on it. With a gentle gesture, he motioned for the boy to sit by a nearby table. The boy eagerly climbed onto the chair, his eyes widening at the sight of the giant pastry. It was as big as his head. Ari settled across from him, cradling the sleeping baby in his lap.

His gaze fixated on the young boy before him. The sight was like a time warp, reminiscent of Andreas in their youth - an eerie resemblance. Their emerald green eyes and freckles mirrored each other perfectly. The boy even possessed a head of dark copper curls. 

Ari shifted his attention to the slumbering baby cradled in his lap, whose visage mirrored that of Alexander's. The similarity was uncanny. He also sported the same hair colour. 

They were his kin. 

A wave of disbelief washed over Ari. Their mother had deserted them years ago, seemingly uninterested in raising children any longer. Yet all this time, she had been out there, birthing more babies only to abandon them. How many more of his siblings were scattered out in the world?

Ari couldn't help but regard the two little boys with a mixture of sympathy and sorrow.

"What's your name?" Ari asked gently.

"I'm Arrow," the little boy replied, his mouth full of cinnamon roll.

"And what about this little one?" Ari motioned toward the slumbering baby.

"He's baby Amery."

Ari's mind reeled. Their mother had an affinity for names beginning with the letter A.

"Is your mama nearby?" he asked, hopeful.

The boy's face fell. "I don't know."

"Who takes care of you?" 

"You," the boy stated matter-of-factly.

"Me!?" Ari exclaimed, incredulous.

"My big brothers," Arrow added, a hint of a smile gracing his face.

Ari reached for a napkin and gently wiped the frosting from the little boy's face. At that moment, he momentarily set aside the weight of the situation.

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Meanwhile, Alexander and Andreas were observing the affluent university students. In a cunning move, they had managed to acquire the university uniforms that seamlessly blended them into the bustling campus crowd. While walking around, each couldn't help but think about what it would be like to be part of such an esteemed institution. 

They had managed to steal nine watches and four wallets so far. 

Later, they found themselves in the library, where the duo were approached by a professor who exuded an air of authority. The man stood tall, with a stern countenance that immediately commanded attention. He was undoubtedly a dom. 

"Excuse me, first-year submissives should be in the main lecture hall right now, instead of idling in the library. Who is your housemaster?" the professor sternly questioned the two boys. 

Alexander felt an overwhelming desire to kneel, to beg for forgiveness, and to have the domineering figure embrace him, assuring him that everything would be alright. Yeah, he definitely needed a visit to the discipline centre soon, he thought. 

Catching Alexander's signal through a glance, Andreas knew it was time to make a hasty retreat from the situation. They needed to escape. Before the professor could utter another word, they bolted out of the library, both the professor and campus security were hot on their trail.

In their frantic escape, Andreas noticed a milk truck. Acting swiftly, he seized Alexander's arm and pulled him with him towards it, climbed in and then closed it. Both of them gasped for breath, their hearts were pounding. Fortunately, the back of the truck was empty, providing them with a temporary respite. But their relief was short-lived as the truck suddenly lurched into motion before they could exit.

''Shit!'' They both said in unison. 

As the milk truck eventually came to a stop, they discreetly slipped out, finding themselves near a bustling port. They cautiously roamed the area, casting their eyes upon the various ships docked there. Alexander couldn't help but ponder the potential riches concealed within those ships. 

"What do you think could be of value aboard those ships?" Alexander whispered, his gaze scanning the maritime surroundings.

Andreas shrugged, "Fish,'' he responded. 

Alexander grimaced at the thought. ''Fish? Really? These sailors sail out to the unknown, risking life and limb for a potential seafood feast? Clearly, their treasure-hunting skills need some work.''

While Alexander continued surveying their surroundings, his eyes widen upon spotting a familiar figure. Urgently beckoning Andreas to follow him silently, they sought refuge behind a stack of cargo. "That's Michael Orsini," Alexander whispered urgently, recognizing him from a previous encounter at a club. The rumours he had heard about the Orsini family's notoriety sent chills down his spine. Alexander would have sooner considered robbing the royal family than crossing paths with the Orsinis.

Andreas, however, seemed oblivious to the impending danger. Ignoring his brother, he began walking towards the ship where Michael stood, accompanied by his security detail.

"Andreas!" Alexander hissed, his voice filled with urgency.

Just as Alexander was about to foolishly follow his brother's lead to stop him, he felt strong hands grip him from behind, covering his mouth and preventing any outcry.

Chapter Text

Once baby Amery fluttered open his bright eyes, it was as clear as the morning sun. The two little lads were none other than his kin, his brothers in every possible way. His eyes mirrored the captivating mismatched orbs of Alexander. In truth, this little babe was an exact replica of their elder sibling, an extraordinary resemblance that left no room for doubt.

Now, baby Amery was feeling rather grouchy and, mayhaps, hungry. He was sitting within the confines of a spacious basket that Aristotle had found, he had ingeniously transformed it into a cosy makeshift bed using layered blankets and a small pillow. The baby emitted a disgruntled grunt as he set his curious gaze upon Ari.

"Well, hello, sleepy-head," Ari greeted the grumpy baby as he lifted him out of the basket. ''Do you fancy lending me a hand in the kitchen?''

The baby didn't seem particularly amused. Ari was still a stranger to him, and Amery remained uncertain about this new face in his life.

"Alright, baby bear, here," Ari gently offered him a piece of freshly baked bread, prompting a high-pitched squeal as tiny fingers clutched it. "Be careful not to choke," Ari cautioned all the while stirring spaghetti with his unoccupied hand.

In the living room, Arrow had occupied himself with toys, Ari had found in their bags. Among the things were a few items of clothing, diapers, bottles, and a tin containing some formula. They would eventually need more supplies. 

Sending them to an orphanage was out of the question for Ari. These boys were their family, and Ari was confident that their older brothers would feel the same once they laid eyes on them.

As Ari set the table, Andreas and Alexander had yet to return home. Ari wasn't overly concerned since it wasn't the first time they were late. He settled the children around the table, he quickly realized they needed to buy a baby chair for Amery. For now, the baby would have to settle for sitting on Ari's lap. If the Teal house was going to continue making money like they had done today, they would finally be able to afford things they previously couldn't. 

By the end of dinner, the little boys were covered in bolognese. Ari was no exception. He promptly bathed the boys in a bubble bath, followed by diapering Amery and dressing both boys in their pyjamas. 

Arrow dozed off on Ari's bed, but baby Amery remained inconsolable, leaving Ari at a loss for how to soothe him. He tried singing, pacing and swaying, desperately attempting to calm the crying babe. Then, a memory struck him. In the room that had turned into a storage space, he remembered contained a rocking chair that had been there since they moved in. Determined, Ari hauled the rocking chair into the living room. Taking a seat, he began gently rocking back and forth. For a fleeting five seconds, Amery fell silent before resuming his wails.

"I'm sorry, little one. How can I help you?" Ari said, a tinge of frustration lacing his voice. 

The floodgates of emotions burst open, and Ari couldn't hold back his tears any longer. He cried, releasing all the pent-up feelings, from missing his mother to the sadness he felt for the children and the overwhelming sense of abandonment.

Arrow stormed into the living room. 

"I want to sleep!" the little boy said, clearly grumpy. 

Ari sniffled and apologized, his headache starting to intensify.

Arrow's expression softened, he stomped his way over to their bags and retrieved a bottle along with a tin of formula.

"Amery likes this," Arrow informed Ari. 

Of course, Ari thought. 

Having looked after young ones in the past, Ari was well-acquainted with caring for children. During his upbringing, he often took on the role of a babysitter for his neighbours' little ones, earning some extra cash. It was a familiar sight to witness babies drifting off, cradling their bottles. Ari berated himself for not realizing this sooner, attributing his oversight to sheer exhaustion.

''You are okay, Ari?'' Arrow asked. 

''I'm fine, little one,'' Ari assured the little boy. 

Thirty minutes later, both little boys were finally sound asleep on Ari's bed, he swiftly cleaned the kitchen and himself before settling beside them on his bed. It didn't take long until he was out. 

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Andreas found himself entranced by the sight before him. Never had he beheld such ethereal beauty. When he saw him, the world faded away, leaving only the two of them.

Michael was draped in a bespoke grey suit, his lips possessed an irresistible allure, and his hair was meticulously styled to the side, reminiscent of those glamorous models seen in magazines. 

Finally, Michael's gaze shifted, fixing upon Andreas, causing Andreas's heart to quicken its pace. A smirk danced upon Michael's lips as he beheld him, and with a voice filled with intrigue, he said, "Well, what do we have here?"

Summoning all his courage, Andreas mustered the word, ''date?"

Michael was taken aback, for never had he encountered such forthrightness, particularly from someone as beautiful as Andreas. Because he was a part of the Orsini family, others had quivered in fear before him his whole life, a consequence his father deemed a virtue. Yet Michael's feelings toward it wavered like a flickering flame, caught in a dance between love and strife.

Standing before Michael was a being of formidable strength, his muscles sculpted and his shoulders broad. Freckles adorned his countenance with ethereal grace, and his eyes, oh, his eyes, were like pools of enchantment, pulling Michael deeper into their depths. Clad in a slightly snug school uniform, it almost appeared as if he didn't quite belong in it.

Curiosity burning within him, Michael posed the question, "What is your name?"

"Andreas," came the reply.

Andreas—it was perfect, thought Michael.

"I shall allow you the privilege of courting me, beautiful," Michael retorted with another smirk.

Andreas's heart swelled with joy. 

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"Release your grip on me!" Alexander's voice reverberated as he was forcefully propelled into the rear seat of the vehicle. The door slammed shut behind him, the authoritative figure settled into the driver's position.

Within moments, Alexander realized that his captor was a cop.

"Listen, I don't know what things those people at the school told you, but I am not the culprit," he told the man. 

The man occupying the driver's seat answered to the name of Henry Beckett. As a novice in the police force, he approached his duties with utmost sincerity, unlike his senior partner Ken, whose primary concern often revolved around selecting the perfect spot for their coffee breaks.

Henry faced the boy, "Stop kicking my seat!" Henry admonished the young man. 

Henry was unable to deny his striking appearance. Alexander's heterochromatic eyes held an inexplicable allure, capturing Henry's attention. 

"Are you planning to grant me my freedom?" inquired Alexander.

"No!" came the resolute response.

"Why not?" Alexander pressed further.

"Were you spying on Michael Orsini?" Henry asked, his tone unyielding.

"I wasn't spying! My brother and I were merely taking a stroll when we happened upon him," Alexander defended himself.

"What about these?" Henry showed Alexander the collection of watches and wallets.

"Those aren't mine," Alexander protested.

"They were found in your pockets," Henry countered.

''Well, I don't know how they got there.'' 

"Who is your housemaster?" Henry asked. 

"I don't have one, alright? I'm not even attending that school; I'm too young!"

Henry's gaze drifted down to Alexander's uniform. "It's not mine!" the boy insisted.

A sigh escaped Henry's lips. He had spent the past few weeks surveilling Michael Orsini, and he had no patience for dealing with a little thief. Henry aspired to apprehend the masterminds, not a naughty little sub who clearly needed a good spanking. 

"Listen here, you can't keep me confined like this! It's undoubtedly a violation of some law," Alexander declared confidently.

"And pray tell, which prestigious law school did you attend?" Henry retorted, his eyes narrowing.

Crossing his arms defiantly, the boy pouted, displaying a peculiar blend of indifference and entitlement that both irritated and intrigued Henry.

Returning with two steaming coffees and a bag of pastries, which he held between his teeth, Ken entered the vehicle and greeted Alexander. 

Alexander's pout intensified. 

Ken looked at Herny for answers. 

"I caught him spying on Michael Orsini," Henry replied.

"Oh, dear, that's not someone you want to get involved with, young man," Ken told Alexander. 

"I wasn't spying on him!" Alexander shouted.

"This boy's got quite a temper," Ken chuckled, offering Alexander a pastry.

"No thanks," Alexander mumbled.

"Where do you live?" Henry asked, his tone carrying a hint of impatience.

 "You're not taking me to the police station?"

A slight frown appeared on Henry's face as he replied, "No, I'm not arresting you, I'm taking you home."

"But what about my brother!?" Alexander's voice rose with frustration.

Henry turned to face Ken, who had a perplexed expression etched on his face. "I didn't see a brother," Henry informed Ken.

A smug smile played on Alexander's lips as he retorted, "How could you possibly miss my brother? He's enormous! Aren't you supposed to be a competent policeman?"

Henry's jaw clenched tightly. He was fighting the urge to pull the boy over his lap right there. 

Meanwhile, Ken calmly took another bite of his pastry, his eyes fixed on the ongoing dispute. Sensing the tension, he decided to intervene, his voice soothing yet firm, "Now, now, let's not indulge in pointless arguments. We'll sort everything out."

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Andreas guided the driver, carefully giving directions to reach their destination, The Teal House. He was filled with pride for what he and his brothers had accomplished, eager to impress Michael with their house. 

As they arrived, Michael couldn't hide his surprise. "Is this your business?" he asked, his astonishment evident.

Turning on the lights, Andreas faced Michael with a beaming smile. "Yes," he affirmed proudly.

Noticing a tray of unbaked cinnamon rolls, Andreas placed them in the oven and poured some of the orange juice he had helped prepare earlier this morning. Handing a glass to Michael, he declared, "Mine."

It took a moment for Michael to grasp the meaning. "Oh, you made this?" he asked, impressed.

Andreas's smile grew even wider. Michael settled at a nearby table, taking a sip of the orange juice. "Wow, this is delicious," he complimented.

Andreas felt elated. He couldn't believe Michael enjoyed something he had created. Their eyes met, and Michael realized Andreas was still standing, patiently waiting for instructions. 

He was perfect, Michael thought to himself. 

"Kneel, please," Michael pointed to a spot in front of him. Andreas placed his orange juice on the table and obediently knelt before the handsome man.

 "Good, boy," Michael whispered, running his fingers through Andreas's hair. A wave of relaxation washed over Andreas.

Michael recognized that Andreas wasn't particularly talkative, but he was the best person Michael had ever conversed with. Andreas listened attentively, responding at all the right moments. Michael felt like he already knew Andreas; there was an unspoken connection between them. 

Their intimate moment wasn't even interrupted when a cop and Alexander entered the shop. Meanwhile, both Henry and Alexander jolted at the sight of Andreas and Michael. Alexander breathed a sigh of relief to see his brother unharmed. However, Michael and Andreas seemed unfazed by their presence or the commotion that followed as the protesting boy was dragged upstairs by Henry, followed by the sound of a spanking taking place. 

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As the sun began to rise, Ari sprang into action, completely unaware of the shenanigans that had unfolded within the Teal house under the moon's gentle glow. Determined to stay ahead of the day, he roused the children from their slumber and swiftly attended to their morning rituals—washing, dressing, and feeding them. With both boys properly tended to, Ari transported them downstairs. 

A frown adorned his face when he stumbled upon an empty tray in the kitchen, one that had been adorned with cinnamon rolls crafted by his own hands the day before. Ah, his brothers must've indulged in a late-night snack. Thankfully, Ari, had many more trays prepared. 

Working in the kitchen proved to be a more laborious task that morning, as Ari had the added responsibility of overseeing two lively little ones. Luckily, Arrow, though just a tender four-year-old, proved to be a valuable assistant, dutifully keeping an eye on the baby. Ari's pace may have been slower than the day before, but he forged ahead with determination.

As he finished preparing the sandwiches and brewed a fresh pot of coffee, the aroma of baking pastries filled the air. Ari seized this opportunity to create a designated space for the children within the bakery. With a corner of the shop cleared, he ingeniously constructed a makeshift playpen using some leftover wooden fencing from recent construction work. Although it wasn't flawless, it would suffice for now.

With the playpen done, Ari fetched a selection of soft rugs, plush pillows, and cozy blankets, carefully arranging them within the enclosure. The children's toys soon found their place amidst the inviting setup. Ari surveyed his handy work with satisfaction, believing he had created a cozy haven for the two boys. However, the dubious expressions on their faces hinted at their scepticism.

"Now boys, you must stay inside here while I work, alright?" Ari instructed, hoping to gain their compliance.

Arrow, not entirely convinced, puckered his lips into a pout. Sensing the need for motivation, Ari resorted to a little bribery. "If you stay in here and behave, I promise you'll receive the biggest cinnamon roll," he sweetened the deal. 

A wide smile instantly brightened Arrow's face as he eagerly responded, "Okay!"

After another wildly successful morning rush in the bakery, Alexander made his way down to the bakery. Ari couldn't help but notice the vibrant energy radiating from his brother. It was clear that Alexander had finally paid a visit to the centre, and it had done wonders for him. That is until Alex approached Ari in a state of panic.

"Ari! There's a baby here who looks exactly like I did. I-I think I'm seeing things!" Alexander exclaimed. 

Ari couldn't contain his laughter, finding the situation amusing.

"It's not funny!" Alexander retorted, clearly distraught.

Just then, Andreas joined them, appearing equally relaxed as Alexander had moments ago. Sensing the tension, Ari knew it was time to address the situation.

"I need to talk to both of you," Ari said, guiding his brothers towards the playpen where little Arrow was peacefully napping. Baby Amery reached out his tiny arms towards Ari, who gently scooped him up.

Both Alexander and Andreas stared at Ari, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

"This is baby Amery, and that's Arrow," Ari informed them, proceeding to explain everything that had transpired in their absence.

"It's astonishing how much Amery resembles you, Alexander," Ari remarked. 

As Alexander observed the baby, he hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I must say, he's quite the handsome little fella."

Baby Amery broke into a smile, revealing adorable dimples. Ari couldn't help but find him irresistibly cute, with his chubby cheeks, mop of curls, and those endearing dimples. The mismatched eyes only added to his charm. 

Meanwhile, Andreas couldn't hold back his tears. He felt a mix of emotions, both sadness for their shared history of abandonment and anger towards their mother for repeating the same heartbreak with two more children.

Just as Arrow's eyes fluttered open, Ari motioned for him to join them. "Arrow, meet your brothers, Alexander and Andreas."

Andreas gingerly picked up the little boy, who nestled his head against his shoulder. The scene was very natural as if they had done it a million times before. 

"What are we going to do with them?" Alexander pondered aloud. 

"Mine," Andreas declared firmly.

"I agree with Andreas. They're our brothers, and we take care of our own," Ari stated with conviction.

Alexander grappled with his emotions. He couldn't bear the thought of these children ending up in an orphanage, but he also felt ill-equipped to be a parent. He knew nothing about raising children. "Very well. I'll find the best nanny in the land," Alexander suggested.

"No, Alex. I'll take care of them," Ari interjected.

"But-" Alexander started to protest.

"Nannies are expensive, and I am more than capable of looking after them. Besides, Arrow will be at school for most of the day, we just need to find a suitable one," Ari explained patiently.

"Alright, but we must enrol him in the finest school. Also, the clothes they're wearing are hardly acceptable. We need to take them to a tailor immediately and provide them with proper clothing," Alexander decided, his determination shining through.

Ari understood that this was Alexander's way of processing the news and expressing his care for the children.

"Alright, as long as we do everything legally," Ari replied, emphasizing the importance of following the proper procedures.

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, brother."

Chapter Text

"Stay away from him, Andreas, he's dangerous!" They stood in the corner of a children's clothing boutique. Arrow and Amery were being attended to by the boutique staff, who were meticulously taking their measurements.

''Love,'' Andreas simply responded. 

"Brother, you can't love him, you just met him," Alexander objected.

Andreas paid no heed to his brother's cautionary words. His face beamed with an enamoured smile.

"Oh, dear," Alexander sighed, taken aback by his brother's unusual behaviour. He had never seen his brother like this before. 

"Well, I suppose that man does possess wealth. He'll likely shower you with extravagant gifts, judging by the way he was looking at you last night."

"Yes," Andreas replied dreamily, lost in his own contentment.

⋆｡˚

Ari's siblings returned, their two little boys looking utterly adorable in their brand-new outfits. Arrow sported shorts in a vibrant earthy hue, paired with a crisp button-down shirt and suspenders. Baby Amery wore a similar ensemble, with salmon-coloured shorts mirroring Alexander's suit, accompanied by a pristine white button-down shirt. Both boys wore dainty leather loafers on their tiny feet, adorned with shiny metal accents.

"Aww, you both look so cute!" Ari exclaimed as his eyes fell upon them. "How much did all of this cost?" Ari inquired, noticing the numerous bags Andreas carried.

"Don't worry about it," Alexander tried to assure him.

"Alex!" Ari protested.

"Well, they needed new clothes, and now we just have to arrange a meeting with a private school. We'll catch up with you later," Alexander replied, swiftly departing with Andreas, leaving the two little boys in Ari's care.

A surge of frustration welled up within Ari, tempting him to throttle his elder brothers. However, as Arrow twirled around, showcasing his new outfit, Ari witnessed a level of happiness he hadn't seen in the young boy before. It helped Ari calm down.

"Are you two up for some lunch?" Ari asked, to which Arrow eagerly nodded.

After attending to a few customers, Ari led both boys back to the kitchen. He settled the baby in the basket before preparing small cubes of gouda cheese, homemade crackers he had prepared earlier, sliced cucumbers, cherries from the garden, and some sliced smoked ham. He made sure to cut everything into manageable portions for the baby. He also poured some milk for both boys. 

Once the children were full, Ari settled them both down for a much-needed nap in the playpen. Given their late night and early morning, it didn't take long for them to doze off, their peaceful slumber taking hold within seconds.

The tinkling of a bell announced the arrival of a new customer, prompting Ari to make his way behind the counter. The man before him donned a tailored suit, exuding regal refinement in every way. Yet, it was his deep, enigmatic blue eyes that captured Ari's attention. Ari soon grasped that this individual wasn't quite a grown man, he couldn't be that much older than Ari,  yet his attire suggested otherwise, creating a curious contradiction. 

Moving with an innate grace, the mysterious boy explored the vibrant pastries lining the shelves, his eyes filled with curiosity and delight. Ari felt a stirring sensation in his stomach as he witnessed the boy's childlike wonder, his eyes reflecting the golden hue of freshly baked bread and the delicate pastries.

As the boy approached the glass display, his fingertips gently grazed its surface, engaging in a silent dialogue with each treat. Finally, a smile graced his lips, and his eyes settled upon the cinnamon rolls. Leaning in, he whispered his order, leaving Ari momentarily speechless. "Uh-yes, yes, of course," Ari finally managed to respond.

Ari observed as the boy settled into a corner seat of the bakery, a slightly hidden spot close to the playpen. Filled with anticipation, Ari meticulously prepared the finest cinnamon roll and poured a steaming mug of coffee. His heart raced as he approached the boy, carefully placing the order in front of him.

"Enjoy," Ari mustered, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"Thank you," the handsome boy replied in a deep voice that made Ari's heart flutter. Curiosity got the better of the boy as he inquired, "Whose children are these?"

"They're my brothers, I take care of them. They won't disturb you, I promise," Ari assured.

The young man hummed, leaving Ari slightly angered. 

He didn't like the tone of his dumb humming, it sounded as if he was passing judgment on Ari's parenting. While Ari acknowledged that the bakery might not be the most ideal place for children, he took good care of them. The young man's affluent appearance hinted at the luxury of having nannies. "We can't all afford nannies, you know," Ari couldn't help but retort, immediately regretting his words. 

The young man was taken aback, never having been spoken to in such a manner. Yet, as Ari turned and walked away in embarrassment, the boy's lips curled into a smile, a glimmer of intrigue dancing in his eyes.

⋆｡˚

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow upon the bakery, Ari diligently went about his closing rituals, methodically tidying and preparing for the end of another bustling day. 

Lost in his tasks, Ari was taken aback when the jingling of the doorbell announced another visitor. Glancing up, he found himself face to face with a policeman, his presence casting an intriguing air of mystery amidst the flour-dusted shelves.

"I'm afraid we're just about to close for the day, sir," Ari apologized politely. 

Undeterred, the man approached Ari, a few bags in tow, and calmly stated, "I'm here for a room."

"A room?" Confusion furrowed Ari's brow. 

The policeman nodded affirmatively. "Yes, I would like to rent a room here."

Perplexed by the unusual request, Ari gently explained, "Oh, but we don't typically rent out any rooms."

A hint of disappointment flickered in the officer's eyes. ''Well, that's unfortunate. I could pay a good amount for one."

Intrigued by the proposition, Ari's mind began to whirl. He recalled the unused rooms on the bakery's third floor, a forgotten space awaiting a purpose. Contemplating the possibilities, he considered the unexpected turn of events.

Just as Ari's thoughts swirled, a burst of excitement erupted from the corner of the room. Arrow, dashed towards Ari, pointing with glee. "Look, Ari! A policeman!"

The handsome young policeman bent down, a warm smile illuminating his face as he met Arrow's wide-eyed gaze. "Indeed, I am," he declared with pride.

Suddenly, Andreas and Alexander barged into the scene, their arrival charged with tension. Alexander's arms were crossed and scepticism was etched on his face, Alexander voiced his displeasure. "What is he doing here!?"

Unfazed by the resistance, the policeman levelled a steady gaze at Alexander and offered an unexpected command. "You better uncross those arms."

To the surprise of everyone, Alexander complied, his defiance melting away. 

Seizing the moment, Ari swiftly interjected, "We do, in fact, have a room available for rent," he declared, watching the ripple of disbelief spread across Alexander's face.

"What!? No, we don't!" Alexander said. 

Undeterred, Ari turned to his brother and countered with conviction, "He's willing to pay us handsomely for it."

Alexander was conflicted. All he could do was pout. 

Andreas remained unfazed by the policeman, cradling baby Amery in his arms, finding solace in his embrace. 

Having a dom, who was also a policeman, in the house would be good for his older brothers, Alexander was even already responding to the man, thought Aristotle. 

"Dinner will be served in an hour," Ari informed the policeman. 

''Oh, let me help you,'' the policeman offered. 

Ari already loved him. 

⋆｡˚

With the remnants of last night's meat sauce, Ari created a lasagna. Henry and Arrow prepared a salad. Andreas tenderly entertained the baby, while Alexander sulked in a chair, arms defiantly crossed.

Even as they all gathered around the dinner table, Alexander's sour mood remained intact.

"The baby might benefit from a high chair," Henry suggested, scanning the surroundings for one.

"He absolutely does not!" Alexander retorted.

Ari ignored his brother's objection. "We don't currently have one, but I've been wanting to buy one."

"Oh, you know, I happen to possess some handy skills. I could make one for him myself," Henry kindly offered. 

Alexander scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Sure, we'll just entrust our baby's safety to your handiness. What if it breaks while he's in it, huh? Ever think about that?"

Henry paid no mind to the bratty sub.

Ari gave Alexander a hard look before turning to Henry with a smile. "That's very kind of you to offer," Ari expressed to Henry.

"Alexander, eat," Henry commanded when he noticed that Alexander hadn't touched his plate. 

Alexander, utterly offended, abruptly rose from his seat. "No!" he declared before storming away.

"Excuse me," Henry said, before promptly following Alexander's retreat.

"Lexi needs a nap,'' Arrow said, resulting in laughter from Ari and Andreas.

"Alex likes Henry," Andreas whispered into Ari's ear.

"What?" Ari responded. 

"Spanked him," Andreas disclosed.

"Seriously? When?" Ari asked, shocked. 

"last night," Andreas revealed, accompanied by a mischievous smirk.

Suddenly, everything about Alexander's behaviour began to make sense to Ari. Was that why Henry wanted to live here? Because he liked Alex back? A wave of elation washed over Ari, Alexander was in desperate need of a man like Henry—someone who wouldn't tolerate his nonsense.

⋆｡˚

Alexander was sitting on his bed when Henry entered. 

''Don't you knock?'' 

Henry didn't waste any time. Alexander was over his knee within seconds. 

''NO! LET GO OF ME!'' 

''You've been asking for a spanking this whole evening, and now you're getting one.'' 

Henry pulled down his slacks in one swift motion, revealing Alexander's bubble butt. 

''Why are you even here!?'' Alexander yelled. 

In reality, Henry's purpose for being there was to closely monitor Andreas. The moment he stumbled upon Andreas in the company of Michael Orsini the previous night, he realized he needed to delve deeper into this peculiar family—It would bring him closer to Michael Orsini. After sharing all the details with his superior, a brilliant plan was devised—Henry would move into the teal house. 

If Henry claimed he wasn't also captivated by a particular individual, with mismatched eyes, and who somehow managed to exude an intriguing entitlement, he would be deceiving himself. That individual both vexed and fascinated Henry, making the idea of being near them irresistible. 

''Look, I apologize, Henry, I don't need this spanking, okay?'' 

''Oh, you're getting this spanking, alright.'' 

And that's exactly what happened. Alexander's arm got pinned to his back,  his legs were trapped between Henry's before Henry started spanking away. 

Alexander's goal was to remain stoic. He did a good job at first. But Henry's large hand was an implement on its own. It didn't take very long until Alexander could be heard protesting and trying to get away from Henry's smarting smacks. 

"While we're at the dining table, your conduct leaves much to be desired. I implore you to exhibit proper etiquette henceforth," Henry admonished Alexander, his large hand rhythmically smacking Henry's cheeks. 

''Fine!'' Alexander yelled. 

Henry continued his relentless assault on Alex's ass, but this time, he adopted a deliberate strategy, honing in on a single cheek for a brief period before transitioning to the next.

When Alexander's cheeks got crimson red, Henry tenderly lifted him, and cradled him in his embrace, providing solace in this moment of aftercare. Alexander's sniffles echoed in the air, but the weight of the spanking had eased both their souls. Henry's hand was gliding soothingly over the boy's back, offering comfort in its gentle touch.

"I...uh-I don't- I- thank you," Alexander managed to utter. 

"You're welcome," Henry replied, his voice brimming with sincerity. "And remember, I'm always willing to have another 'conversation' with you, even if you resort to your bratty ways to provoke one."

A faint smirk played on Alexander's lips. "Yeah, well, don't get it twisted—I still don't like you."

In their hearts, however, both of them knew that statement couldn't be further from the truth.

Ari and Andreas noticed Alexander's face was flushed when the duo returned to the dinner table, but he appeared noticeably more at ease. Both of them sat down to enjoy their meal, as Ari attentively observed the pair.

⋆｡˚

The following day, Alexander unexpectedly found himself perched on the rooftop. If you were to ask him, he would insist that it had nothing to do with the presence of a remarkably attractive man, sporting only an undershirt that accentuated his well-defined muscles,  constructing a high chair for his little brother. 

Alexander had devised a ruse, feigning his dedication to tending Ari's garden. Despite his lack of knowledge in the matter, he deemed every plant in need of hydration.

Observing Alexander's activities, Henry remarked, "I had no idea you possessed a green thumb," while employing his forearm to wipe off the sweat from his brow.

"Well for your information, I do. I've nurtured and cultivated every living thing here,"  Alexander responded confidently. 

Little Arrow who was sitting by Henry, playing with his tools, gave Alexander a dubious look. 

"Alex!" Ari's voice trembled with panic upon witnessing the scene of Alex drowning his garden.

Caught off guard, Alexander dropped the hose. 

 "What are you doing?" Ari asked urgently.

"I was merely tending to my garden," Alexander quickly responded. 

"Your-" Ari swiftly figured out the true nature of the situation, letting out a weary sigh as he glanced towards Henry and then back at Alexander.

With pleading eyes, Alexander silently beseeched Ari for understanding.

"I was just coming up here to collect some of your delightful cherry tomatoes," Ari said, but Alex was not listening. Henry was removing his undershirt and employing it to further mop away the beads of sweat upon his brow.

"Alright, Arrow, I think it's time for us to leave," Ari declared, seizing little Arrow's hand and swiftly retreating from the rooftop. 

After a fleeting moment, Alexander decided to abandon the garden and settled himself on the outdoor sofa under the pergola, his gaze fixed upon Henry.

Henry sported a grin, sensing the mismatched eyes of a certain someone upon him.

"Be careful with that!" Alexander cautioned as soon as Henry pulled out the saw.

"I had no idea you were concerned about my well-being, darling," Henry retorted.

Alexander's heart fluttered at being called 'darling.' 

"I'm not! I just don't fancy cleaning up your blood," Alexander said, arms folded across his chest.

The sun's rays intensified, causing Alexander to feel an uncomfortable heat. He swiftly removed his shirt, a move that did not escape Henry's notice.

"Are you wearing sunscreen?" Henry asked. 

Alexander dismissed the question with a wave of his hand.

Henry observed him intently, his gaze unwavering.

"Fine, I am," Alexander remarked casually. "Continue," Alexander demanded upon realizing that Henry had momentarily ceased constructing the high chair.

And so, for the entirety of the morning, Alexander delighted in watching the hot handyman bring his craftsmanship to life.

⋆｡˚

Meanwhile, Ari was in the bakery, hard at work crafting delectable sandwiches when the tinkling of a bell announced the arrival of a new customer. Hastily wiping his flour-coated hands on his apron, he emerged from the kitchen, ready to assist.

"Hello!" Ari greeted, observing the enigmatic stranger standing before him. Though there was an air about the man that told Ari to be cautious, still, his presence seemed to carry an undercurrent of loneliness, even amidst the entourage of suit-clad individuals surrounding him.

Ari's ears picked up the sound of a sudden commotion from the kitchen, where Amery's shrieks echoed through the air. "Excuse me for just a moment, please," he requested, before retracing his steps to investigate the source of the disturbance. Inside, he found Arrow scowling at the mischievous baby, "what happened?" Ari asked. 

"He's eating my crayons," Arrow answered, his tone lacking any trace of amusement, his frown deepening. "Come here, you,"  Ari gently scooped up Amery, his arms now occupied with the adorable bundle of energy. "Come along, sweetheart. It's not safe for either of you to be in here alone, anyway," he told Arrow, guiding him away from the kitchen

Apologizing for the interruption, Ari returned to the mysterious man waiting patiently, Amery cradled in his arms. He motioned for Arrow to find a seat at a nearby table where he could draw in peace. 

"Michael!" the voice of Andreas resounded through the house, his hurried footsteps descending the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom, he rushed towards Michael, enfolding him in a heartfelt embrace as though Michael had just returned from war. When they finally pulled apart, Michael tenderly cupped Andreas' face, "I've missed you, beautiful."

A whirlwind of thoughts filled Ari's mind. When did his brothers come into contact with these men? What was happening in this house?

Lost in their own world, the two gazed at each other intently, oblivious to Ari's presence. Clearing his throat, Ari interrupted their reverie, turning their attention towards himself and Amery. "My brothers," Andreas finally acknowledged, breaking the silence that had enveloped them. Michael offered a warm smile to Ari and Amery, captivating the young child's attention.

Amery dove towards Michael with a squeal, Ari almost dropping him. Michael thankfully managed to catch him. 

"Wow, he seems to really like you," Ari chuckled, noticing Amery's joyful expression.

Michael appeared somewhat bewildered as if he had never been in such close proximity to a baby before. Arrow suddenly appeared, tugging at Michael's suit jacket. "Would you like to draw with me, mister, sir?" he asked, his eyes brimming with innocence. Michael seemed hesitant, as though on the verge of refusing, but ultimately, he succumbed to the irresistible pull of Arrow's puppy eyes.

"I would be delighted to," Michael answered, allowing Arrow to lead him to the table where the young boy had his art supplies.

Andreas watched the scene unfold before him, his heart filled with affectionate adoration. Meanwhile, the security personnel present in the café, whom Ari had begun to suspect of being Michael's bodyguards, observed the unfolding events in astonishment.

Placing his hands on his hips, Ari spoke up, a demand for answers in his tone. "You have a lot of explaining to do," he declared, directing his words towards Andreas. "When did you meet this man?"

"Monday," Andreas replied dreamily, leaving Ari shaking his head in disbelief. He had been so engrossed in the Teal house and caring for the children that he had missed both his brothers, apparently, finding the loves of their lives. 

As the minutes ticked by, Michael gradually began to loosen up, his initial stiffness giving way to a growing sense of ease. The once-alarmed expression in his eyes transformed into one of affectionate fondness as he observed and spoke to the children.

"He seems really nice," Ari commented, acknowledging the positive influence Michael appeared to have on Andreas. Andreas nodded in agreement, his heart brimming with contentment.

After Michael and the children had spent a delightful half hour engaged in drawing, Andreas grew restless, eager to have Michael all to himself once more. He approached Michael and the children, placing his hand on Michael's shoulder. "Mine," Andreas said to Arrow. 

"Fine," Arrow responded with a hint of sadness. Sensing the change in the little boy's mood, Michael addressed the children, his tone gentle yet firm. "I had a wonderful time drawing with both of you, but I believe another someone needs my attention right now."

Arrow's face brightened with a wide smile, relishing the knowledge that Michael had liked drawing with him.

As Amery was handed back to Ari, a cascade of tears ensued. "Oh dear, it seems you're the favourite today, Michael," Ari remarked, his words carrying a hint of playful affection. 

Michael's genuine wide smile at the comment sent Andreas into a swoon.

"Would you care to join us for dinner tonight?" Ari asked Michael, who was promptly answered by Andreas. "Yes," Andreas declared with certainty.

"I guess I will be, thank you, Aristotle," Michael responded. His gaze then hardened as he shifted towards his men, a silent conversation passing between them as they nodded in agreement.

"Alright, beautiful, lead the way," Michael addressed Andreas, who eagerly guided them upstairs. Michael's security detail remained downstairs with Ari and the children.

"We'll be looking after you and the little ones," one of Michael's men assured Ari.

"No need for that, really," Ari replied, somewhat bemused by their insistence.

Nevertheless, the group of men continued to stare at him, conveying an unspoken message.

"Well, if you insist," Ari sighed, yielding to their relentless resolve. Perhaps they could even assist Ari with babysitting. He handed baby Amery to one of the men, saying, "He loves cuddles," as the man's terrified expression mirrored his uncertain grasp on the baby.

Who was this mysterious Michael, and what drove him to require such unwavering protection? Ari pondered, a whirlwind of questions swirling in his mind as he returned behind the counter.

"The boss mentioned that we could order anything we desire," another one of Michael's men stated, placing a roll of bills on the counter. Ari's eyes widened in surprise.

Chapter Text

The Teal House had just completed its first week of operation. Ari found himself behind the counter. thinking of ways to conjure pastries that mirrored the very essence of the house's mystical charm. He liked what they were serving, but he wanted the teal house to stick out.

Ari's artistic journey began during his early childhood. After school, his brothers would drop him off at the local library, providing a safe haven from their mother's unstable partners and substance abuse. Within the library, a dedicated section for kids became Ari's refuge, where he eagerly devoured every book in sight. Another corner held an arts and crafts area, a place where little Ari delighted in passing the hours. The library's magic intensified when authors would stop by, enthralling Ari and other children with their stories.

However, the moments that Ari held dearest were those when his brothers opted to linger, engrossed in reading and coloring by his side. The library had practically raised them.

Ari somehow wanted to incorporate his artistic skills into the pastries. He immersed himself in the task of creating macarons that looked like tiny moons. The outer shell, mimicking the moon's textured surface. Within a ganache awaited discovery – its core held the essence of creamy coconut and white chocolate, imbued with a subtle taste of jasmine blossoms. 

Ari's senses were caught off guard as a voice, reached his ears. Startled, he clutched his chest and looked up to find the source. It was none other than the wealthy mysterious boy.

''I said, those look beautiful,'' he gestured towards the macarons.

"Startling people for fun, are we?" Ari exclaimed, his heart still racing.

The boy's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "I assumed you heard my grand entrance," he quipped. 

With an air of expectation, he then declared, "The usual, please,'' before reclaiming his throne by the playpen. In Ari's mind, that table had transformed into an exclusive enclave reserved solely for the young man. Because strangely, no other customers would ever occupy that seat, as if the universe itself conspired to preserve its sanctity for him.

Or it might have just been because of the sometimes noisy children in the playpen, that the mysterious young man didn't seem to mind.

''Ugh!''

Startled for the second time that day, Ari leapt in surprise as he heard the voice of little Amery, who had managed to find his way to Ari behind the counter.

"Hey there, baby bear," Ari exclaimed, scooping up the baby. His eyes darted towards the playpen and discovered that the playpen, which Henry had remade and added a gate to, had been carelessly left open. "Arrow!" Ari sighed exasperatedly. "You can't leave the gate open!"

As Ari scanned the area for Arrow, his eyes locked onto his mischievous boy running up to the wealthy young man. To ensure Amery's safety, Ari settled him in the high chair behind the counter and poured some crackers for him on the high chair tray to keep him happily occupied.

"I apologize," Ari said with sincerity, addressing the young man. He then turned towards the little boy, "we can't disturb the customers, little bear."

''But Rowan said- he said I can has a cinnamon roll,'' Arrow replied.

Rowan. So that was his name, Ari pondered.

Rowan smiled. "He wasn't bothering me," he kindly remarked. "I also had my eye on the little one, he was safe."

Ari's anger flared up.

He couldn't understand why Rowan had the power to provoke such intense emotions within him. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of my own brothers, thank you very much!" Ari retorted, firmly grasping Arrow's hand, who protested at being pulled away from Rowan. Once he settled Arrow with his own snacks, he returned behind the counter.

Ari took a breath calming down.

He returned to the wealthy young man with his order.

A sigh escaped Ari's lips as he apologized. Rowan continued to smile warmly. "I didn't mean to offend you. We were just discussing schools,'' he responded.

"Oh, yes. He's very excited about that. We've been thinking about a few different ones," Ari replied.

"He actually mentioned my alma mater, Emmons," Rowan revealed.

Alexander had been talking about that place, it must've been where Arrow picked it up.

Emmons was the dream school for every parent. Unfortunately, its prestigious reputation came with a hefty price tag. While the Teal House was making them money, they couldn't afford the tuition fees. Perhaps they could manage an Emmons uniform for Arrow, but that would be the extent of it.

"Well, it's quite a challenging school to get into," Ari explained.

A faint smile graced Rowan's face as he responded, "Oh, I can put in a good word for you. Arrow seems like a great kid who would fit right in. Emmons offers scholarships for children like him."

Children like him. Who did Rowan think he was?

"He is a great kid," Ari interjected. "But we don't need scholarships," he defensively stated, even though Ari knew they actually would need a scholarship for a school like that. He wasn't entirely sure why he was pushing back against the young man's offer. And to further provoke him, Ari added, "I don't want him turning into an entitled snob."

Rowan was not offended. Instead, his expression turned serious, realizing he had offended Ari. "I apologize. I shouldn't have assumed—"

"No, you shouldn't have!" Ari declared, crossing his arms.

Unfazed by Ari's display of anger, Rowan smiled. "There's a certain charm to your anger," he playfully needled, ''It's adorable.'' 

Ari blushed, uncrossing his arms, adamant that he was anything but adorable. This young man's ability to stir up even more fury within him only fueled his frustration.

"Could I order two sandwiches and six more cinnamon rolls to go?" Rowan requested, a smirk playing on his lips.

"No, I'm sorry, but we're all out," Ari lied.

Rowan glanced behind Ari, his gaze fixed on a tantalizing display of delicious sandwiches and plump, irresistible cinnamon rolls. "No, I don't believe you are," he remarked slyly, noting the assortment of delectable treats on offer. ''Oh, and add one of those macarons you were working on, thank you.''

.Ari's fingers itched with the urge to throttle him.

.・゜゜・・●・・゜゜・

Henry stood amidst the bustling crowd at the marketplace, his sharp eyes scanning the vibrant sea of people. Henry was there tailing Andreas and Michael, who were busy procuring supplies for the bakery.

But a glimmer of movement caught Henry's attention from the pair. His gaze narrowed, focusing on someone expertly manoeuvring through the crowd, his hands moving deftly, barely noticeable to the untrained eye. Henry recognized him immediately—Alexander.

Henry discreetly followed him through the bustling crowds, blending into the sea of people like a shadow. Alex seemed oblivious to Henry's presence, too consumed by his illicit activities. Wallet after wallet disappeared into his nimble fingers, leaving unsuspecting victims oblivious to their loss.

Finally, Henry seized the perfect moment to strike. As Alexander's hand darted toward a woman's purse, Henry swiftly grabbed his wrist, squeezing it tightly. Alexander's eyes widened in surprise, his face turning pale as he met Henry's steely gaze.

"Caught you red-handed, Lexi," Henry said, his voice laced with a mix of triumph and frustration. He quickly restrained the boy, securing his hands behind his back with handcuffs. The bystanders, initially unaware of the unfolding drama, began to gather, their murmurs growing louder with each passing second.

"Let go of me, Henry!" Alexander spat. "You can't even manage an arrest properly!"

What did Alexander know of police work anyway? Henry rolled his eyes, frustration tangling with an undercurrent of amusement that was impossible to deny. "Well, I've got you now, don't I? Turns out you're not the sly little thief you fancied yourself to be," Henry taunted, well aware that his words were salt to an already stinging wound.

Alexander struggled against his restraints, his body tensing with every fibre of his being.

Their exchange was interrupted by the sound of a police car pulling up nearby. With a firm grip on Alexander's arm, Henry directed him toward the vehicle, ignoring the curious gazes of the onlookers. As they reached the car, a brief pause filled the air, the unspoken words hanging heavy between them.

With a sigh, he pushed Alexander into the backseat, his hands lingering on his arm for a fleeting second longer than necessary.

"You again?" Ken's voice came from the driver's seat. "You need to steer clear of trouble, young man."

Henry slid into the car.

The interior was steeped in tense silence. Alexander's gaze clung to the mesh divider that separated him from Henry, the space practically sizzling with unresolved tension.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" Alexander's voice dripped with irritation. "All that force back there wasn't necessary, you know. I wasn't planning to run."

A rush of adrenaline surged through Alex's veins as he meticulously straightened the paperclip concealed within his palm, a tiny secret weapon.

Henry scoffed, his gaze locked onto the road as if he could drive away from the charged atmosphere. "I wasn't about to take any chances, especially not with you."

Alexander settled back against the seat, feigning nonchalance while his insides coiled with a blend of frustration and a burning desire that defied reason. "Sure, sure. Just another excuse to get your hands on me, right?"

Henry shot a quick sideways glance at Ken, who seemed all ears for their verbal clash. "You're not as clever as you think, Alex. Reckless and lucky, that's your game."

Defiance flashed in Alexander's eyes. "Oh, really? Is that your expert opinion, Officer Perfect?"

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Henry's mouth. "Someone has to protect innocent folks from naughty little brats."

Alexander rolled his eyes, his tone laced with exasperation. "Of all the people to be stuck with, why does it always have to be you, Henry? Can't catch a break, can I?"

Armed with his makeshift lockpick, Alexander turned his focus to the handcuffs.

 Henry shot back, voice sharp as a knife. "Believe me, I'd rather be anywhere else, dealing with anyone else. But here we are, and someone's gotta keep you in check."

Alexander sneered. "Newsflash, you're not in charge of me. Don't get off on the power trip."

With utmost care, Alex slipped one end of the paperclip into the handcuff's keyhole. 

Henry sighed, his frustration mingling with a soft layer of concern. "True, maybe I can't control your every move, but damn it, I'll damn well try. Somebody has to rescue you from your own chaos."

"Rescue me? Spare me, I'm doing just fine solo."

Henry shook his head, voice strained. "Stubborn as hell, Alex. You're going down a dangerous path."

Alexander manipulated the paperclip, each twist and turn a step closer to liberation. Then, there was an almost inaudible click, the first pin surrendering to his skilful touch.

Bolstered by this triumph, Alex persevered. The paperclip's tension mimicked the delicate balance of a lockpick set. Sweat formed on his brow as he danced with the lock's inner mechanisms. Slowly, painstakingly, each obstacle yielded to his determination.

"Well, don't think your smug attitude earns you any points. I won't be thanking you anytime soon,'' Alexander said, rolling his eyes. 

Henry's frustration threatened to ignite. He recognized the brilliance in Alexander, the potential for greatness, and it infuriated him to see it squandered.

Finally, with a nearly silent pop, the last pin gave way. The handcuff sprung open, and Alex's heart surged with victory. Gently setting aside the paperclip, he held back a triumphant grin.

At a red light, a chance for escape glimmered. In a heartbeat, Alexander burst from the car's confines. The pavement pounded beneath his feet as he raced away, the tension between them left in the rearview mirror.

.・゜゜・・●・・゜゜・

"Uhh!" Amery's hand stretched out, reaching desperately for Andreas as he passed the grocery bags to Ari.

Meanwhile, Michael's gaze was intensely fixated upon the wealthy young man sitting by the playpen before him. 

"Michael!" A voice called out, echoing through the bakery. It was Arrow, running towards Michael. Michael scooped him up into his arms, holding him tightly. "Have you been a good boy for Ari?"

Arrow nodded solemnly, but soon his eyes welled up with tears. "N-no!" he exclaimed, his tiny voice trembling. "I wasn't!"

"Hey now, Arrow, calm down," Michael soothed. "Take a breath for me, little one."

The young boy obeyed, taking in a shaky breath.

Both little boys had formed a bond with both Henry and Michael, sensing their protective energy like shimmering auras. While subs are gentle nurturers by nature, doms were protective and, solid as the mightiest oaks. But just as the children had grown fond of Henry and Michael, the two men had become enchanted by the two little boys. It was inevitable, thought Ari. They were simply too adorable, capable of getting away with murder.

"Now, tell me, what transpired," Michael urged gently.

"I... I left the gate open," Arrow confessed, his eyes brimming with renewed tears.

"You're okay, little one," Michael reassured him. "But remember, next time you must close it tightly. What if baby Amery were to wander astray?"

Arrow shook his head vehemently, tears glistening like morning dew. "The Mister was watching us, Michael! He said we is safe!" Arrow pointed a tiny finger towards the wealthy young man, who was engrossed in reading the newspaper and savouring a cup of fragrant coffee. Beside him rested two large to-go-boxes filled with delectable delights.

Michael recognized him well, for it was his duty to know such characters. Yet, uncertainty clouded his thoughts, unsure of what to make of this man frequenting the teal house.

"Aristotle!" Michael's voice rang out, summoning the presence of Ari, who emerged from the bakery kitchen, covered head to toe in a snowfall of flour.

"Yes?" Ari responded, his voice carrying a hint of trepidation.

''Willem is moving in," Michael declared firmly.

"Michael, we've discussed this-" Ari began, his voice trailing off, swallowed by a sudden nervousness. 

Michael's expression grew serious, a look that could make even the bravest man shiver with unease. Ari swallowed hard, his throat suddenly as dry as ancient parchment. "Michael, please, I..."

"Do not argue with me, Aristotle," Michael commanded, his words laced with an otherworldly authority.

 "Yes, sir," Ari acquiesced, his voice a whisper.

When Michael was born, Willem was only 18 when he was entrusted with the task of raising him. His father was too busy, and Michael's mother died shortly after his birth. Michael always spoke fondly about Willem, he was his second father, but Ari did not need someone babysitting him. He could handle it on his own.

"Good," Michael affirmed. "And if anyone dares to trouble you..."

"I know, I will inform you," Ari interjected.

"Good boy," Michael praised, his words wrapping around Ari like a gentle enchantment.

In a less-than-pleasant state, Henry entered the teal house, his sour mood evident. Another policeman followed him.

"You never mentioned you lived in a bakery, Henry!" the policeman exclaimed, clearly feeling deceived.

"I apologize, Ken. This wasn't how I intended to tell you, but feel free to order whatever you like, my treat," Henry offered before he approached Ari,''have you seen, Alexander?''.

''Nope, he'll probably be home later,'' Ari answered.

Michael and Henry exchanged a few words sometimes, but that was the extent of their interaction. However, whenever they locked eyes, Ari sensed that an unspoken, secret conversation was unfolding between them.

"Nap," Andreas informed Ari, cradling a drowsy Amery. Still holding Arrow, Michael joined them as they ascended the stairs.

"Oh, my!" exclaimed Ken with a glimmer in his eyes, peering into the enchanting depths of the bakery's countertop fridge. "That roast beef sandwich looks delicious!"

Ari couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. He cherished every word of praise that fell upon his culinary creations. "Thank you! Please, find yourself a spot, and I will bring you one.''

"Oh, yes, but I must say that cinnamon roll looks quite seductive," Ken confessed, his eyes dancing with desire.

"Ah, the cinnamon roll I will bring-," Ari started.

"And that lemon cake, oh my," Ken continued, his appetite growing stronger by the second.

"Tell you what, how about I bring you everything from the menu?"

Ken's eyes sparkled like stars as if Ari had offered him the world. "Oh, that would be marvellous!" he exclaimed, his excitement propelling him toward a seat fit for everything Ari was about to bring him.

Meanwhile,  Rowan,  wrapped in the cocoon of his newspaper, couldn't help but interject his opinion. "You have a rather peculiar family," he remarked.

Ari, with a hint of weariness but a touch of affection, glanced at Rowan. "I do," he murmured softly.

.・゜゜・・●・・゜゜・

Andreas stirred from his slumber, yawning and stretching. Michael sat diligently at the desk, across the room engrossed in his work.

"Hey, beautiful," Michael playfully called out.

Andreas smiled at the endearing greeting.

"I have to head to work. I might not make dinner tonight," Michael informed him.

Andreas' smile faded, replaced by a subtle pout that showcased his disappointment.

Sensing Andreas' change in demeanour, Michael turned his gaze towards him, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

"You know how it is, I've got to work, beside you've been keeping me all to yourself long enough now," Michael added.

"No," Andreas replied defiantly.

A soft chuckle escaped Michael's lips in response.

"I go," Andreas declared, his determination evident.

Shaking his head, Michael adopted a firm tone, careful not to disturb the peacefully sleeping children beside Andreas.

"You can't come with me. I need you to stay here where you will be safe," Michael asserted.

A thought raced through Andreas' mind, questioning who would ensure Michael's safety. His anger flared within him, clearly visible as he crossed his arms in defiance.

"I understand that you're upset, but I won't tolerate disrespect, Andreas," Michael warned, his tone unwavering.

Feeling the weight of Michael's authority, Andreas slowly uncrossed his arms.

"Come here," Michael commanded.

Andreas hesitated for a moment, but ultimately complied, moving closer to Michael.

"Kneel, please," Michael requested.

Andreas lowered himself onto his knees.

Running his hand through Andreas' hair, Michael sought to calm him down.

"You'll be a good boy while I'm gone?" Michael inquired.

Andreas nodded, silently affirming his assurance.

"Words, please," Michael urged.

"Yes," Andreas replied, though his displeasure still lingered. It was wise not to throw a fit in the presence of Michael, for he would not tolerate such behaviour.

"Good. I'll see you later, okay?" Michael said with a sigh, gathering his belongings.

"Yes," Andreas responded.

With a gentle kiss on Andreas' forehead, Michael left the bedroom.

Andreas tended to Arrow, ensuring the sleeping little boy was comfortably settled, before scooping up the now awake baby and exiting the room.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard that Michael was in the bathroom. 

Henry, who happened to pass by, had his arms suddenly full of Baby Amery. Andreas then rushed downstairs, Andreas scanned the surroundings for Michael's car. Spotting it parked right outside the teal house, he ensured no guards were present before climbing into the trunk, concealing himself.

.・゜゜・・●・・゜゜・

"Stay as still as a statue,  Arrow," Ari gently commanded, positioning the pen above the little boy's head, noting how tall he was.

"Would you look at that," Ari exclaimed with a twinkle in his eye.

"Whoa! I'm so big!" Arrow exclaimed, his gaze fixated on the line just above his own.

Ari chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh no, little bear, that line belongs to someone else."

"Who might that be?" the curious boy inquired.

"I cannot say for certain, but they used to live here before us," Ari replied.

"Oh," Arrow murmured, pondering the secrets hidden within the house.

"We should write your name next to your line, so everyone will know who it belongs to," Ari proposed.

Arrow nodded eagerly. "And Amery too?"

Ari hummed in contemplation. "Henry, can you join us for a moment?" He called out.

Henry approached, cradling baby Amery in his arms.

"We wants to see how big Amery is!" Arrow declared enthusiastically.

Henry carefully placed Amery against the wall, supporting the little one with tender care.

"Look, he- he is standing!" Arrow giggled with delight.

"He is, buddy," Henry chuckled, delighted by the little boy's innocent joy.

However, baby Amery, with an adorably fierce glare, made it clear he had no interest in taking part in their shenanigans.

"Alright, we're all done!" Ari announced to the baby with a sense of accomplishment.

"Well, little ones, our break nears its end," Ari announced. "I'll take them downstairs," he told Henry, grabbing baby Amery and guiding the boys towards the bakery.

Ari settled the two boys in their playpen, ensuring their safety and comfort, before turning the sign on the bakery door from "closed" to "open.''

Ken was still in the bakery, having volunteered to assist in baking muffins. Although initially hesitant, Ari eventually agreed as Ken displayed great enthusiasm.

Upon entering the kitchen, Ari was taken aback, exclaiming, "Ken, they look great!"

Chuckling softly, the older man brushed off the praise. "I just followed your recipe," he replied, a modest grin playing on his lips.

Ari expressed gratitude, saying, "Ken, I really appreciate your help. Feel free to take home whatever you'd like."

Ken's eyes lit up with excitement.

Ari grabbed a tray of muffins and brought them to the front of the bakery.

Henry's gaze lingered upon Ari, it was easy to forget that he was only 17 years old.  He was taking on the responsibilities of caring for two little boys, managing a business, and tending to a household—but, who was tending to Ari?

A pang of empathy tugged at Henry's heart. He had learned of Ari's past, their mother's absence, and the brothers fending for themselves. It felt like a small miracle that the authorities hadn't came knocking on their door, inquiring about their circumstances.

As a police officer, it was Henry's duty to report such matters. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Amery and Arrow would likely be taken away, and the process of determining if this was a suitable home for them would stretch indefinitely.

Just then, Ari placed a plate adorned with a slice of delectable lemon cake in front of Henry, accompanied by an iced coffee—Henry's favourite indulgence.

Henry pulled up his wallet.

"You don't owe a cent, Henry. Though you've only been here a week, you're already watching over my brothers and that makes you family."

Henry felt a swell of warmth in his chest, touched by the sentiment.

"By the way, where's Andreas?" Henry asked, noticing his absence.

"He's with Michael. I saw him running to his car earlier," Ari responded.

Henry's eyes widened with realization. How could he not have known they weren't home? He had been so preoccupied with waiting for Alexander to walts his ass back home.

"I—I need to go," Henry stammered, hastily rising from his seat.

"Oh, I'll save this for you to enjoy later," Ari reassured, gesturing toward the untouched slice of cake.

Chapter Text

In his escape from Henry, Alexander found himself racing to the comforting familiarity of his old neighbourhood. The distant wails of police sirens harmonized with the cries of infants, the clamor of animated conversations, the pulse of vibrant music, and the incoherent laughter of intoxicated individuals. Amidst it all, the unmistakable scent of home-cooked meals wafted through open windows.

His old neighborhood wore its flaws openly, yet it thrived with life. Each apartment building painted in vibrant colours told a story of resilience. Life buzzed around, manifesting in the form of children playing under the open sky and elders engaging in loud conversations, puffing on their cigarettes. Living there wasn't easy, but it was a collective journey. As the days wound down, the community came alive with a sense of belonging. Only now did Alexander grasp how much he had missed his old home.

Alexander strolled along the narrow passage of his former apartment building.

His stride halted abruptly when a familiar sound reached his ears.

"Chimney!?" he exclaimed, startled by the surge of joy that welled up inside him at the sight of the cat. Chimney, the neighborhood cat, had always been aloof with everyone except Alexander. Alexander had fed and cared for him, and when they moved away, he had searched high and low for Chimney, fearing the worst—that the cat had perished or wandered too far.

But now, Chimney padded resolutely towards him, and Alexander scooped him up, the cat's contented purring resonating through his hands. "I need to see who's moved into our old place," he confided to the cat, setting him gently back on the ground. "Wait here!"

With a burst of determination, Alexander leapt, seizing and hoisting himself up onto the fire escape, clinging to the building's side. Ascending the steps, he unlatched the timeworn window to his old bedroom. As he manoeuvred inside, equilibrium betrayed him, leading to an abrupt meeting between his face and the floor. A pained exclamation escaped his lips. "Ow! Bloody hell!''

He rose from the floor. Alexander's horror knew no bounds as he beheld the dismal sight before him. The room that once bore the mark of his meticulous elegance was now overrun with tattered remnants and strewn with clothes haphazardly tossed about. The walls, once adorned in hues of sophistication, now mocked him with a sickening shade of pink. Alexander felt a wave of nausea engulf him at the sight; pink was one of his favourite colors. Yet, this grotesque interpretation of it defied all reason.

He couldn't fathom the mind behind such an abomination. To him, it resembled nothing short of a clichéd depiction of a little girl's bedroom. In Alexander's eyes, the perpetrator of this design atrocity deserved nothing less than jail.

He also couldn't wrap his head around the fact that there were already new tenants in their old apartment. The place held a lot of memories for him, not all of them pleasant, but it was still his home. It was absurd, Alexander mused, yet a small part of him had harbored a foolish hope that his mother might have come back. 

With a sigh, Alexander hoisted himself out of the window and followed the familiar path down to the ground. He picked up Chimney, who was waiting patiently.

"Alexander!"

He turned at the call of his name, locking eyes with a familiar figure. It was Tiny, ironically named for his towering frame, with straight raven hair and eyes as dark as midnight. Alexander never knew Tiny's given name; he had always been just Tiny.

"You got another job?" Tiny asked.

Alexander furrowed his brow, glancing around before leaning in. "You know better than to discuss business out in the open," he reminded him sternly.

Alexander possessed an aura that commanded respect, even at his young age. He didn't need to utter much for people to heed his call, especially those from his old stomping grounds. Together with Andreas, they had looked out for the neighbourhood, whether it was buying groceries for Tiny's family when his mother was injured on the job or ensuring Ms Applewood could afford her medications. They even stopped a robbery against Old Mr. Bennet once.

Tiny stumbled over his words. "S-sorry, you're right. I- I'm trying to save up money for my sister to go to university, she got into Regalton."

Alexander's expression softened marginally. Regalton University was the pinnacle of prestige, a realm where the children of the most affluent families attended, even royalty graced its halls. But with prestige came a price tag that men like Alexander and Tiny couldn't fathom affording.

Regalton was where Andreas and Alexander stole those school uniforms, trying to blend in on campus. It jogged Alexander's memory of a watch he'd swiped. He fished it out of his pockets, he had thought of using it to pay for Arrow's first semester at Emmons. But he could probably get that money some other way. If Tiny's sister could get a degree from Regalton, it'd really change things for their whole family.

Handing the watch to Tiny, Alexander saw the surprise in his eyes.

"Alexand—" Tiny started.

"Let's just say this would cover a good chunk of her first semesters," Alexander said.

Tiny was speechless. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just make sure she attends," Alexander said.

Alexander had never seen someone smile so big.

"I'll be in touch," he said to Tiny before striding away with Chimney in his arms. 

***

Regret flooded Andreas as soon as he found himself inside the car's trunk. The journey proved jarringly uncomfortable, and upon reaching their destination, he discovered he was securely locked in. Opting to make the most of the situation, he decided to take another nap.

But as his senses stirred, screams shattered the silence, jolting him awake. In a heartbeat, Michael's safety became Andreas's sole concern. Summoning every ounce of resolve, he broke free from the confines of the car trunk, he climbed out to assess the havoc he'd wrought upon one of Michael's cars.

Surveying the scene, the harbour unfolded before him. Andreas wasted no time, tracing the source of the turmoil to one of the many yachts, Boarding swiftly, he witnessed a familiar face from his old neighbourhood, his name was Steven and he was running towards Michael. Despite the efforts of Michael's vigilant guards, Steven managed to strike Michael in the face, before he was wrestled to the yacht's fancy floors.

Steven was a bad man, a tyrant in his home, inflicting pain on his wife and children. His life was further entangled in a web of debt. Andreas had no idea what his connection to Michael was, but that did not matter in that moment. 

Without hesitation, Andreas leapt into action, propelled by a primal fury at the sight of Michael under threat. Andreas saw only crimson as he launched into a relentless assault on the man.

"DON'T. HURT. MY. MICHAEL!" Each word punctuated by a blow.

When Andreas was done, he was greeted by Michael's intense gaze, his expression radiated fury. In an attempt to diffuse the tension, Andreas summoned a rare smile, hoping to unleash his inner charm.

However, Michael remained unimpressed. Bodyguards intervened, yanking Andreas over a nearby table. Michael leaned in to deliver a heated whisper: "You're in big trouble!

Andreas felt his heart quicken its pace. There was an electrifying allure in Michael's current intensity that stirred a thrilling sensation within Andreas.

Next, Michael yanked Andreas' pants down, revealing Andreas' bare bottom. Andreas's cheeks tinged with embarrassment as the watchful eyes of the guards bore witness to what was about to happen. 

***

The following dawn roused Ari from slumber with a relentless blaze of summer heat. With a reluctant groan, he heaved himself off the bed, peeling away the clammy sheets. Hastily, Ari fetched fresh sheets from the linen closet, setting them aside for a later change once his younger brothers stirred. Checking on his brothers, he gingerly withdrew the blankets, fearing the stifling heat might overwhelm them.

Throwing open the window to invite a breath of fresh air, Ari retreated to the bathroom, seeking refuge in a cold shower. Lemon-scented soap scrubbed away the sticky residue of sweat before he emerged, clad in simple black slacks and a white undershirt.

Arrow whimpered from Ari's bed. "Is- is... too warm," the little voice complained.

"I know, little bear," Ari sympathized, scooping up the sweaty-haired boy. "Let's cool you off with a quick bath."

"Nooo, is not bedtime!" Arrow protested.

"I know, baths are not just before bedtime. Common, it'll help you feel better," Ari persisted, noting the impending long day ahead.

As he started filling the bathtub, the sound of the baby's cries echoed through the house. Hurriedly, Ari retrieved the infant, undressing him and settling him into the bath alongside Arrow, who eagerly offered his bathtoys to his baby brother. Ari let them play for a while as he shampooed their hair.

The old teal house struggled against the summer heat, prompting Ari to wonder if they even had a heating and cooling system. Arrow, began tugging on Ari's curls, ''pretty Ari!'' Arrow beamed, his dimpled smile melting Ari's heart.

''Why thank you, Mr. charmer,'' Ari smiled.

Meanwhile, the baby reveled in the bath, giggling and splashing with abandon, seeming oblivious to the heat.

After the bath, Ari swiftly dressed the baby in a breezy sleeveless romper. Arrow, however, chose a pair of shorts, and Ari had to resort to a little bribery to get him into a plain undershirt.

While Arrow was perched on the toilet, Aristotle carried baby Amery to the kitchen, settling him into his high chair. Just as Ari was about to grab some breakfast for the baby, he froze in his tracks. Andreas sauntered into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an apron that showcased his freshly spanked red bottom. A flush of colour warmed Andreas's cheeks.

Meanwhile, Michael's lips curved into a sly grin as he followed Andreas into the kitchen.

''I know it's hot, Andreas, but your bare bottom is not the first thing I want to see in the morning,'' Ari said. 

Thankfully, the baby's attention was fixed on Ari, oblivious to the scene unfolding in the kitchen. But Arrow would undoubtedly run in at any moment.

"Michael!" Andreas's voice carried a touch of urgency.

"Go on. Change into what I laid out for you on the bed," Michael ordered.

Andreas, in a flurry of movement, snatched a blanket from the blanket basket by the couch and cocooned himself within its soft folds before darting out of the room with a speed that could rival a gust of wind.

Ari flung open the window above the kitchen sink, letting in a breeze as he started frying up pancakes with the batter Andreas had prepared. He sliced fresh fruit, arranging it in front of the baby alongside a sippy cup of cold milk. Amery offered Ari a big, dimpled smile, ''a feast fit for a little prince,'' Ari said, kissing the baby's dimples.

Michael, with a flourish, shed his suit jacket and sat beside the baby. He offered a genuine smile, then unfolded his newspaper.

Suddenly, Arrow burst into the kitchen like a mini whirlwind.

"Can I has blueberries, Ari?" he asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Of course, love. Why don't you entertain Amery while I whip up some blueberry pancakes?"

Arrow beamed and dashed off, mission accepted.

At least the babies were content, Ari mused.

Henry sauntered into the kitchen, his smile brightening the room like the sun itself.

"Need a hand, Ari?" he asked, ever ready to help.

"No, thank you," Ari replied, expertly pouring Henry a steaming cup of coffee.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's too hot for coffee," Henry said, taking a tentative sip.

With a quick, fluid motion, Ari whisked the cup away, adding creamer, ice cubes, and a swirl of caramel sauce before handing back an iced coffee.

Henry frowned slightly, noting Ari's nonstop hustle. "Why don't you take a break? I can finish breakfast," Henry suggested.

"I can't just sit around, Henry. It's okay," Ari said, setting a stack of golden pancakes and a bowl of vibrant, cut-up fruit on the table. "You can keep an eye on the little ones and make sure they don't choke."

With a serious nod, Henry accepted his mission.

Andreas appeared (dressed in clothes) and carrying a basket brimming with what looked like dirty laundry.

Michael rose from his seat, swiftly finishing his coffee and placing the mug in the sink. "I need to go," he informed Andreas, leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.

Michael was set to be away for a few days, and he had spent the entire night comforting and preparing Andreas for his imminent departure.

After bidding farewell to the little ones, Michael departed, carrying a paper bag full of muffins for Michael and his guards, that Ari had handed to him as he passed by.

Andreas then turned to Ari "Where?" he asked, a bit bewildered.

"Laundry room," Ari replied without glancing up.

Andreas blinked a few times.

Right. It was no surprise that his older brothers had no clue where the laundry room was, he doubted they knew how to operate a washing machine.

''It's beside the big bathroom,'' Aristotle clarified.

''Oh,'' Andreas said, he then trudged off to the laundry room, basket in tow.

Just then, Alexander sauntered into the room, his presence commanding attention in the way only he could. He appeared as though he had just stepped out of a rejuvenating shower. And just like Ari, the relentless heat had dictated his wardrobe choice, leaving him with no choice but to opt for a pristine white tight undershirt and mossy green slacks. As usual, his fingers were adorned with an array of rings.

"We ought to hire a housekeeper," Alexander suggested, tossing his thoughts out in the open.

Ari couldn't help but roll his eyes, a tinge of exasperation coloring his response. "We already have one," he retorted.

"What?" Alexander's confusion was palpable.

"Me, you goofball," Ari shot back.

"Well, pardon me for saying so, but you haven't been particularly effective lately. The house is an absolute mess," Alexander criticized, seemingly unfazed as he helped himself to a bite of Henry's pancakes.

"Alexander!" Henry's reprimand cut through the air, though Alexander remained nonchalant

Henry was still fuming at Alexander for running away from him the day before. What bothered him even more was that Alexander didn't seem to give a damn.

"You know, you could lend a hand once in a while. I'm swamped these days," Ari pleaded with his brother. Ari shuddered at the mere thought of the towering growing pile of dirty laundry he still hadn't mustered the energy to tackle.

Alexander believed his younger brother had a need to be in control; no matter how much Alexander would try to help, it would never meet Ari's standards.

"These pancakes are simply divine," Alexander interjected, attempting to shift the focus away from the conversation, his charming smile directed at his brothers and Henry.

But Ari stood firm, unwilling to be swayed by Alexander's distractions.

"Well, I did suggest getting a nanny!" Alexander quipped, his audacity leaving Ari speechless.

They could not afford a nanny, Alexander knew this.

"Fine. I'll handle it!" Alexander finally conceded, though Ari dreaded the implications.

"Do we have to have another conversation already?" Henry's raised eyebrow directed at Alexander, as he continued to eat his pancakes.

A rosy hue spread across Alexander's cheeks, but he swiftly responded, ''Ah, Henry, always so eager for our 'conversations.'''

Andreas walked back, dejection written all over his face. "Broken," he informed Ari.

"Broken?" Ari repeated, confusion coloring his voice. At that moment, Amery tossed his sippy cup onto the floor. Ari swiftly retrieved it, passing it back to the baby.

"Chimney," Andreas added.

"I'll fix it," Ari responded, though he hadn't the slightest clue how to repair a chimney. His attention was more focused on preventing the pancakes from burning to really digest what Andreas was saying.

Alexander rose from his seat, a determined glint in his eyes. "Time to go, Andreas. Duty awaits us." He bid farewell to the baby and Arrow, ruffling their copper hair. "See you soon, Tiny Andreas, Tiny me." With that, Andreas quickly followed in his wake.

"Where are you going?" Henry called out after them. Alexander hadn't eaten enough breakfast for Henry's liking.

"Somewhere that does not concern your sweet pert tush!" Alexander shot back.

Henry sighed in resignation. It was barely nine in the morning, and already he felt the urge to throttle Alexander.

It was Friday, Henry's day off, and he intended to lend Aristotle a hand at the bakery. Michael and the brothers could wait until tomorrow. 

***

Emmons was precisely as Alexander and Andreas had imagined. The children marched by in impeccably straight lines, trailing their teacher, their burgundy, black, and white uniforms were adorned with the school's emblem. The institution exuded an aura of age and dignity; its cleanliness and grandeur unmistakably signaled affluence and prestige.

Alexander and Andreas strode up to the reception desk, their nerves barely hidden beneath composed expressions. They requested application forms to enrol Arrow, and as Alexander filled them out, he found himself inventing details about their supposed parents and their fictitious careers. Andreas observed his brother's creative process, his eyebrows climbing higher with each fabricated fact, especially when he noticed the tuition fee per semester.

Catching Andreas's incredulous look, Alexander leaned in and whispered, "Relax, this is for a scholarship."

After meticulously completing the form, Alexander handed it to the receptionist. She scanned it quickly to make sure nothing was missing.

Just as they were about to exit, she called out, "Mr. Remington!"

Both brothers turned, puzzled.

"Apologies, but I believe you've filled out the wrong form," she said.

Alexander's eyebrows arched as he returned to the desk, while Andreas muffled a groan.

"Mr. Remington, you've completed a scholarship application. What you need is..." she rifled through the stack and produced another form, "the family legacy form."

"Family legacy?" Alexander echoed.

"Yes, indeed. The Remington family has a long legacy at Emmons. You're from the Remington family, right?''

Alexander nodded.

''Well, then, I'm sure you attended as well."

"Of course," Alexander quickly replied. Andreas, now curious, leaned in to catch every word.

"And you filled out the scholarship application form," she added with a light laugh, as if it were the most absurd mistake.

"My mistake. I should've paid more attention."

"No worries at all, we will need a copy of his birth certificate, but you can just mail that to us. Just fill this form out and bring it back to me," she said, flashing a warm smile.

Alexander swiftly filled out the new form, relieved he didn't need to invent any lies or mention their parents. Andreas stood beside him, deep in thought. Handing the form back to the receptionist, Alexander asked, "What about the payment?"

She laughed again and waved him off. 

Alexander promptly grabbed his brother's arm and made a hasty exit before the receptionist could add anything else.

"Alexander," Andreas breathed once they were outside.

"I know. Who would have guessed there's a wealthy Remington family? We could definitely use this to our advantage."

"Alexander," Andreas said again, more urgently.

"What is it?"

Andreas stared at his brother, and suddenly it dawned on Alexander. "You don't think—no, impossible. There must be other families with the Remington name," Alexander said, as if trying to convince himself.

Their mother was not rich or from an affluent family. But maybe their father... Alexander pondered.

"Birth certificate," Andreas mentioned, moving to the next item on their list.

"I know," Alexander replied, distracted. "We have to forge one.''

***

Ari fought back tears as he surveyed the chaos around him. The house felt like an oven, driving customers away from the bakery every time they entered. The bakery ovens were making the heat in the teal house worse. To top it off, when he went to tackle the mountain of laundry, he discovered the washing machine, a fixture that came with the house, was broken.

Feeling utterly defeated, Ari sank down in the laundry room.

Amery crawled up to him, whimpering.

"I know, baby, today is just not our day," Ari murmured, trying to comfort both himself and his baby brother.

Arrow burst into the room next, exclaiming, "Wow!" as he leapt onto the pile of dirty sheets.

"No, Arrow, ew," Ari began but was interrupted as the little boy suddenly jumped back with a start. A grey cat appeared out of nowhere.

"Look! A kitty!" Arrow exclaimed, squatting down in front of the fluffy ball of fur.

"Chimney! What are you doing here?" Ari asked surprised, as if expecting the cat to answer.

"I like him, Ari!" Arrow giggled, while Baby Amery remained sceptical.

"Don't get too close, Arrow, he doesn't like—" Ari started to warn, but was cut off by a sudden cry.

"Owie!" Arrow wailed. "Ari!"

"Did he scratch you?" Ari asked, concern washing over him.

"Yeah!" Arrow sniffled.

Amery giggled. Chimney approached the baby and began to purr beside him.

Well, Amery was the spitting image of Alexander, and Chimney loved Alexander, Ari mused.

"I don't like him anymore," Arrow sniffled, looking warily at the cat.

"Chimney can be a bit... temperamental. You have to respect his space. I know he's fluffy, but you can't overwhelm him," Ari explained gently.

"Okay," Arrow whined, clearly in need of a nap.

Ari's gaze snagged on something—a slip of paper peeking out from the pocket of Andreas's slacks. Curiosity piqued, he gently tugged it free and unfolded it. As his eyes scanned the page, his heart plummeted. "Oh, Andreas," he murmured under his breath. The paper was an invoice for a private speech therapist, a costly service that Andreas had been longing to afford. The high price tag had kept it out of reach. Ari hadn’t realized just how deeply Andreas desired this. To Ari, Andreas was perfect just as he was, but he also knew the frustration Andreas felt from not always being able to express himself with ease.

"Hello!"

Ari jumped, he shoved the paper in his pocket before spinning around to find a strange man standing in the doorway. Quickly scooping up the baby from the floor, he demanded, "Who are you!?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I'm Willem," the man replied calmly.

Ari sighed with relief. Willem was the person Michael had sent to 'help out.'

"Hi!" Arrow waved excitedly at the man.

Ari remained sceptical.

"You must be Aristotle," Willem said, addressing Ari.

Ari nodded.

"And this must be Amery," Willem pointed to the baby, "and Arrow!" he added, pointing to the little boy.

"Him knows me!" Arrow said to Aristotle with surprise.

"Uh, I'm going to put them down for a nap," Ari announced, already making his way out of the laundry room. ''We have bedrooms on the third floor,'' he added as he noticed bags scattered all over the kitchen and living room.

"Thank you," Willem replied, starting to organize his belongings.

***

Once Willem had lugged all his belongings into his new bedroom, he descended the stairs and found himself lingering near the doorway to Ari's room. Ari had cleverly opened windows in both the bedroom and living area, inviting a refreshing cross breeze on this sweltering day. It was evident to Willem that the house lacked adequate air conditioning.

He watched as Ari read to the little ones—Amery with his bottle of milk and Arrow with a sippy cup. Willem couldn't help but notice that Arrow might be a tad old for such a cup, but he reasoned it could be a bedtime comfort ritual.

Having raised Michael, it had been years since Willem had been around babies. He hadn't realized how much he missed their presence. But his primary concern at the moment was for Aristotle. The boy appeared exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and a noticeable tension in his posture.

Once the boys had finally drifted off to sleep, Ari emerged from their room. "Why don't you take a nap with them?" Willem suggested, though it came across more as a directive than a mere suggestion.

"I can't. I need to reopen the bakery," Ari replied as he made his way downstairs, Willem following closely behind.

"Sorry, Henry," Ari addressed the man reading a book while drinking an iced tea. "The washing machine is not working. We'll have to use the laundromat until it's fixed."

"No problem," Henry responded amiably.

"I assume you two have already met?" Ari asked, glancing between Willem and Henry.

"Yeah, I let him in," Henry replied casually.

As Ari studied Willem, he couldn't help but notice the distinct features that defined him. With a strong, square jawline that exuded determination, tousled hair kissed by the sun spoke of a life spent under open skies. His eyes were a striking shade of hazel, that held a glint of seriousness and depth, framed by expressive brows that added character to his gaze. His stance exuded confidence, and his physique was lean and toned—a testament to both athleticism and readiness for action. His smile was easy, tinged with a hint of a smirk that hinted at a playful spirit beneath his composed demeanour.

Meanwhile, Willem realized he would need a whole new approach. Though Michael had shared snippets about the boys, Willem quickly sensed there were entire chapters missing. Aristotle wasn't just trying to get through the day; his determined stance and fierce resolve shouted to the world that he was in full survival mode. Willem understood that these boys would require a great deal of effort—a challenge he was ready to embrace.

As much as he hated to admit it, the past few years had been rather lonely. Michael had grown up, finished school, and Willem rarely saw him. His friends had all found their partners, some even welcoming little ones into the world. The moment Willem stepped into the teal house, a delightful warmth washed over him, whispering promises that he might have finally found his true place.

"I'm taking the little ones to the park," Willem announced next.

"What?" Ari replied, taken aback. "I don't think that's a good idea," Ari added, a hint of worry in his voice.

"It's alright, Aristotle. It's a beautiful day, probably the last good one this summer. They'll benefit from some fresh air and sunshine," Willem gently suggested.

Ari wavered. He knew Willem was right—the babies did need a change of scenery. Willem had raised Michael, so he probably knew his way around children better than Ari. But still, Willem was practically a stranger.

"How about I come with you all?" Henry offered, glancing between Ari and Willem.

Ari sighed, "Alright."

Though Willem could hear the nervousness he was trying to hide.

"I'll pack a diaper bag and some things from the bakery since it's almost lunchtime," Ari said.

"Thank you, Ari," Willem replied, his heart warmed by the way Ari took care of his brothers.

***

Alexander and Andreas wandered through the bustling streets, their minds heavy with thoughts. They had just left the library looking for the Remington family records. Alexander was carrying a stack of paper he had gotten copies from. They made their way to The Midnight Mug, a bar that had occupied Alexander's thoughts for reasons far beyond its colorful clientele. It was his dream to own the place.

"Keep your hands where I can see them, Alexander!" barked Billy, the grizzled bartender.

Alexander smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You have nothing here I want."

"Nonsense," Billy retorted. "I mean it, Alexander. Behave yourself in my bar, or I won't hesitate to throw you out."

Leaning in, Alexander replied, "One day you're going to regret speaking to me this way."

Billy let out a hearty laugh. "One day, I'll own this whole neighborhood. You watch me!" Alexander yelled, causing the patrons to snicker.

Alexander had once tried to buy the bar from Billy, an old, cantankerous man who seemed perpetually on death's door. Despite Alexander's generous offers, Billy wouldn't budge, steadfastly refusing to name a price.

The Midnight Mug was a haven for the city's shadier characters, and the brothers settled into their usual spot, well-acquainted with the establishment's atmosphere.

Andreas fished out his notebook and pen, scribbling a quick note before passing it to his brother.

Alexander read the letter before he let out a sigh, ''Are you sure it's broken?'' 

Andreas nodded. 

"Where on earth are we supposed to find a washing machine?" Alexander exclaimed, exasperation lacing his voice. "Ari's going to be relentless with his nagging about this."

Andreas simply shrugged, his gaze drifting. His eyes suddenly sparkled with mischief as he noticed a group of patrons engrossed in a lively card game. With a burst of energy, he leaped from his chair and floated over to the table, eager to dive into the game.

Meanwhile, Alexander meticulously laid out the records on the table like a map of forgotten realms. The Remington family was steeped in nobility, The current Marquis of Dawnwood, appeared to be the last scion of the noble Remington line, he resided alone in an estate within Royal Gardens, just a stone's throw from the King's castle. The Marquis seemed to lead a shadowy, elusive existence.

Alexander had ventured to Royal Gardens once before, only to be rebuffed by vigilant guards.

Though the documents revealed little, Alexander unearthed a faded portrait and an address linked to one of the Remington houses. He couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the estate. His thoughts danced: Could they be related to a Marques? 

Shaking his head, Alexander dismissed the fanciful thought. It was easy to get carried away. Other Remington families appeared in the records, but they were scattered across distant lands. 

Alexander furrowed his brow, rummaging through his memories like a detective on a case. Then, as if struck by a sudden epiphany, it hit him: his mother had used a different surname on their old apartment lease. Maybe they weren't Remingtons after all, or maybe they were, but she had deliberately concealed it. He glanced back at the portrait, realization dawning. there was only one way of finding out for sure.

"You cheated!" 

"No!" Andreas pounded his fist on the table.

Alexander let out a heavy sigh.

The table erupted into a chaotic clamour of voices. Alexander made his way over, fully aware of Andreas's reputation for fierce competitiveness and sore losing. Cheating, however, was another matter entirely—Andreas simply couldn't cheat, well, at least not without Alexander's assistance.

"My money!" Andreas thundered, leaping to his feet.

"Just hand over his winnings, David. We all know he won fair and square!" Alexander insisted.

"That's utter nonsense!" David shot back.

"Anyone!" Alexander demanded of the onlookers.

But the patrons remained silent, leaving Andreas fuming. With a final glare, he stormed out of the Midnight Mug, Alexander trailing closely behind.

***

Ari fumed, disbelief simmering beneath his anger. Willem had came to the teal house out of nowhere and  practically wrested his younger brothers from his embrace.

Alright, Ari admitted he might be exaggerating just a bit.

But all he could do was sulk and sweep the bakery, mop, and clean, until the sound of the bells jingled with the arrival of a new guest. His heart gave an unexpected flutter at the sound of those familiar footsteps.

"Evening Aristotle. Still, hard at work, I see," Rowen greeted, Ari could practically hear his insufferably charming smile in his voice. 

Ari hardly glanced up from his mopping, his frustration evident in every stroke. He knew it wasn’t right, but Rowen was the only one around to bear the brunt of his simmering anger. "Yes, Rowen," he snapped, "just scrubbing away, as always."

Rowen raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Ouch, no warm welcome?"

Ari snorted, focusing on the floor with exaggerated precision. "I suppose you just came to annoy me."

Rowen leaned casually against the counter, clearly unfazed. "Annoy? I prefer to think of it as... adding a bit of excitement. You look like you could use some of that."

Ari's eyes narrowed, though his heart skipped a beat despite his scowl. "Excitement? More like a constant headache. You have a knack for turning up at the worst possible times."

Rowen chuckled, taking a few steps closer. "And you have a knack for looking like you're about to burst from all the pent-up frustration. Come on, Ari, surely you can't be all work and no fun"

Ari couldn't help but notice that Rowen seemed different—more playful and audacious than before. Ari's grip tightened on the mop as he tried to keep his voice steady. "What do you want, Rowen?"

Rowen's smile turned more genuine, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I just came to see how my favorite baker is doing. And maybe to see if you'd finally admit that you miss my company and charm."

Ari's cheeks flushed slightly, though he kept his tone sharp. "Don't flatter yourself. The bakery's been running just fine without your so-called charm."

Rowen stepped closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is that so? I think you're just too stubborn to admit that you enjoy the occasional distraction."

Ari tried to maintain his scowl, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "You're impossible."

Rowen's grin widened, "And you're irresistible to annoy when you're pretending not to care. So, what's on the menu this evening? I want a slice of whatever you're baking!"

Ari couldn't help but chuckle, the anger melting away just a bit. "Fine. But you're going to have to earn it. Here," he said, handing the mop to Rowen with a pointed look, "you can start by helping me finish up."

Rowen accepted the mop with a dramatic flourish, though his face betrayed a hint of uncertainty. "Ah, a challenge! I'm ready to assist."

Ari raised an eyebrow as he watched Rowen's less-than-smooth attempts at mopping. "You've never done this before, have you?"

Rowen gave a sheepish grin, trying to manoeuvre the mop with less finesse than he'd hoped. "Can you tell? I may have been a little sheltered from such... tasks."

Ari couldn't help but laugh. 

***

The next morning, David, bleary-eyed from a long night of gambling and drinking, stumbled through his house. As he shuffled past the laundry room, he paused mid-step, his foggy brain registering something amiss. With a slow, dawning realization, he retraced his steps and stared in disbelief:

His washing machine had vanished without a trace.

Chapter Text

Ari sat hunched over the kitchen island, the bakery's ledger open before him, its numbers looking bleaker with each glance. The warm, golden light from the small lamp by the window cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the flour dusting that seemed to cover everything these days. Chimney, with a permanent look of disdain, sat nearby, his green eyes fixed on Ari, as if silently judging his every move.

"We're barely making it," Ari muttered to himself. 

As if sensing his frustration, Chimney leapt onto the island with a practiced grace, landing right on top of the papers with a soft thud. His paws, still powdered with flour from some earlier mischief, left little white prints across the neatly arranged columns.

"Chimney, please," Ari groaned, staring at the mess. "I was working on that," He shook his head.

In response, Chimney hissed—a sound that was less about fear and more about asserting his feline dominance. He sat there, tail flicking, as if daring Ari to argue further.

"Alright, alright," Ari sighed, surrendering to the inevitable. He reached for the bowl that had become Chimney's throne in the past week, his imperious demands for milk having become one of the many quirks of the household. Ari pulled the glass bottle of milk from the fridge, the coolness of it contrasting with the warmth of the room, and poured it into the bowl with a gentle swirl.

"Here you go, Your Highness," he said with mock formality, placing the bowl in front of him. Chimney, satisfied with this tribute, sauntered over to the bowl, his manner smug as he began to lap at the milk. It was during these rare moments, when Chimney was distracted by food or drink, that Ari could sneak in a quick pat on his head. Tonight was no exception—he reached out, giving him a gentle stroke, feeling the soft fur under his hand. Chimney tolerated it, his purring a reluctant acknowledgement.

With Chimney now occupied, Ari returned to his numbers, but the figures seemed even more daunting than before. "Bread and pastries just aren't cutting it," he murmured, rubbing his temples. 

His eyes drifted over to a crumpled paper with a price proposal he had found in Andreas' pocket a few days ago—a reminder of the speech therapist he wanted to hire. The sight of it lit a spark of determination in Ari. They had to find a way to make this work. The bakery couldn't fail. Not now, not ever. 

Reaching for his notebook, Ari flipped to a fresh page, his mind buzzing with ideas. Maybe they could expand their menu—add something new, something different, that would draw more customers. Special orders, themed treats, or even catering—something to bring people in and keep them coming back.

He began sketching out his thoughts, the pen moving quickly across the paper.

Beside him, Chimney finished his milk and sat back on his haunches, licking his whiskers clean. he glanced over at Ari and gave a small, approving nod—at least, that's what Ari liked to think it was.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✨ 🥖 🧁 ✨ :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

"Wow!" Arrow's eyes sparkled as he reached out with tiny, eager fingers for the little Gnome Home perched on the table.

"No!" Ari yelped, swooping in like a hawk. "It's not a toy," he added, holding the gnome house a bit higher, just out of reach. "Sit back down, please and I'll explain."

With a pout and a dramatic sigh, Little Arrow shuffled back to his chair. Andreas gently lifted him into place. Chimney, the ever-unimpressed cat, lounged nearby, his tail flicking lazily. 

Ari took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he surveyed his panel of "taste testers." Andreas sat quietly, his usual calm demeanor a contrast to Ken, who was practically bouncing in his seat. Little Arrow's eyes were still locked on the gnome house. Amery, perched on the lap of one of Michael's guards, made grabby hands at the cake, a drool-soaked bib as his fashion statement. Michael had briefly returned, only to leave again, but had thoughtfully assigned one of his guards to keep an eye on them. The guard, despite his serious appearance, seemed just as curious about the Gnome as everyone else.

"Gentlemen," Ari began, holding up the plate with a flourish, "may I present... the Gnome Home cake!"

Little Arrow's head tilted to the side, much like a confused puppy. "A cake?" he repeated, blinking up at Ari.

"Yep!" Ari said, his chest puffing up with pride. The panel leaned in closer, intrigued.

"It's a smaller bundt cake, carefully decorated to look like a gnome house, complete with edible doors, windows, and moss made from green-tinted coconut flakes. It's got a rich chocolate flavor with just a hint of orange." Ari finished his pitch with a triumphant smile, setting the cake down in the center of the table.

Ken's eyes lit up as he reached for a fork, "This looks incredible, Ari!"

"Thank you," Ari replied, his nerves fluttering as he watched them all dig in.

The room fell into a quiet hum of contentment as the first bites were taken. Even the guard, who rarely showed emotion, let out a low, satisfied sound. He helped Baby Amery taste a bit, and the baby's immediate attempt to grab more was all the confirmation Ari needed. Ken had his eyes closed, clearly savoring each bite like a food critic at a five-star restaurant. Andreas gave a nod of approval, his understated way of saying, "This is good."

Arrow, with his cheeks full of cake, looked up with wide eyes. "More?"

Ari chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. "You have to leave some room for the rest, little bear.''

Ken, paused between bites. "Ooh, it's moist and rich, and the flavors blend beautifully. I wouldn't mind a bit more of that orange zest, though," he added, sounding for all the world like a seasoned gourmet.

Ari, who was both relieved and delighted by the feedback, quickly grabbed his notebook and jotted down the comments. "Noted," he said. "Alright, are you guys ready for the next one?" Ari's eyes twinkled as he held up a covered plate. 

Everyone around the table nodded eagerly. 

Ari carefully placed the plate on the table and unveiled it with a flourish. "I call these Dragon's Breath Pastries," he announced, his tone almost reverent. The pastries were a work of art—flaky and golden, with a dusting of red powder that shimmered like embers. "They're filled with cinnamon apple, to give you that warm 'breath of fire' sensation. The tops are decorated with dragon scales made from fondant. And that red dusting? Represents the embers."

The pastries were met with a chorus of impressed oohs and aahs. As soon as Ari gave the go-ahead, everyone dove in. The first bite had Arrow's eyes widening in surprise at the warm, spicy sweetness, while Ken looked like he'd found treasure in each flaky layer. 

The pastry was approved by everyone. 

For the final one, Ari decided to turn things up a notch. With a dramatic flair, he dimmed the lights in the bakery, casting the room in a soft glow. 

Disappearing into the kitchen, Ari returned moments later, a proud grin on his face as he carried out a single plate. The glow from the plate caught everyone's attention immediately, and even Chimney was intrigued. 

"This one," Ari began, his voice carrying the weight of hours spent perfecting his creation, "took me forever to get right."

"What- what is it, Ari?" Arrow asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and awe as he leaned in closer, trying to get a better look.

Ari beamed. "It's a glow-in-the-dark lantern cake, portion-sized. It's a maple-flavored cake with maple cream cheese and candied pecans inside, and the outside is fondant, carefully cut to look like a lantern."

Ken's eyes narrowed with fascination. "How did you manage to make it glow?"

"A safe secret ingredient," Ari replied with a proud grin. "Go on, dig in."

There was a brief moment where everyone just stared at the cake, as if they weren't sure whether to eat it or marvel at its glow. Meanwhile, Chimney, watching from his perch, seemed to roll his eyes, as if to say, Humans are so easily impressed.

With a nod of encouragement from Ari, they all finally took the plunge.

The reactions were immediate and unanimous—this cake was something special.

Ken took a moment to savor the flavors before declaring, "It's perfect. I've never eaten anything like it—and believe me, I've eaten a lot of things."

Andreas didn't say much, but the pride in his smile was unmistakable. He reached out and squeezed Ari's shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of his brother's talent.

Arrow and Amery, meanwhile, were too busy stuffing their mouths with cake to bother with words, their faces smeared with cream and glowing crumbs. The sheer joy on their faces was all the feedback Ari needed.

To everyone's surprise, the guard, who had been quietly enjoying the treats, spoke up. "I'd like to place an order for my niece's birthday this Friday."

Ari gasped, "Really?!"

The guard nodded, his serious demeanor softening just a bit. "She'll love it."

"Well," Ari began, trying to contain his excitement, "I was actually planning to make these the Teal House's special pastries for the fall season. We're launching them next week, but I'll get started on your order right away, sir."

"More?" Arrow inquired. 

"That's all for now, little bear,'' Ari said as he noted a few more things in his notebook.

With a flourish, Alexander descended the stairs, Willem in tow. "You're not the boss of me!" Alexander declared, his voice echoing through the Teal House.

Willem's eyes narrowed to slits, like a hawk's gaze zeroing in on its prey, and for a fleeting moment, Alexander's defiant stance wavered.

"March back upstairs this instant, and I expect the kitchen to sparkle when I return!" Willem's voice was as unyielding as iron.

"Or else what?!" Alexander challenged.

Henry who was doing police paperwork in the corner of the bakery began to rise, wanting to intervene, but Willem's raised hand stopped him in his tracks.

Willem then leaned in, his voice a mere whisper in Alexander's ear. Whatever he said caused Alexander's eyes to widen like saucers before he scampered back upstairs at a speed that would have impressed a hare.

Ari, watching the scene unfold, was taken aback. Willem had only been at the Teal House for a couple of days, spending most of his time quietly observing the brothers and mostly helping with the youngest two. Ari had even begun to think that Willem's presence wasn't all that bad. But seeing Willem now, with the fire of determination in his eyes, Ari felt a surge of rebellion. He folded his arms, a silent vow that he would not be commanded by Willem.

"Oh, did I miss the taste test?" Willem asked.

Ari felt a pang of guilt, and his resolve wavered. He uncrossed his arms slightly and leaned in to whisper, "There's some more in the kitchen," making sure Arrow couldn't hear.

But Arrow did hear.

"I has more too, Ari!" Arrow demanded.

Two days ago, Arrow's tantrums had taken a sharp turn for the worse, leaving Ari baffled and drained. Part of him wanted to give in, to let the little boy have just one more sweet, but he could feel Willem's eyes on him, silently appraising his every move. Ari knew Willem was probably judging his parenting.

"You've had enough now, little bear. We're having dinner soon," Ari said, trying to keep his frustration in check.

"No!" came Arrow's defiant reply.

"Yes!" Ari's voice rose, matching the boy's defiance with his own.

Arrow's lower lip quivered, and Ari braced himself. The entire bakery seemed to hold its breath, knowing all too well what was about to happen.

A shrill scream pierced the air, followed by a flood of fat tears streaming down Arrow's cream-smeared cheeks.

"I want more!" the little boy wailed.

Ari felt a lump rise in his throat, tears threatening to spill. He prided himself on maintaining the façade of competence, even when he felt utterly lost. He still tried to project an air of authority, standing firm.

Willem, meanwhile, watched the scene unfold with keen interest. He could see Ari's struggle, the silent plea for assistance hidden behind his defiance. Willem wanted to step in, to offer the help he knew was needed, but he understood that his intervention might not be welcomed. He had stayed in the background the past few days, observing and waiting, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his distance. The tension was palpable, and Willem could feel the moment of reckoning approaching.

Suddenly, Arrow shoved a chair with surprising force, slamming it into Ari's fingers, which were resting on the edge of a table.

"Ow! Bloody hell!" Ari shouted, which only made Arrow cry harder. Michael's guard, who had been watching the unfolding drama with wide eyes, handed Baby Amery to Ken, who remained unbothered by the chaos. Without a word, he quietly slipped out of the bakery—though he had faced many challenges on the job, dealing with a little boy's meltdown was a whole new ballgame.

"That's enough!" Ari snapped, scooping the little boy into his arms and marching him upstairs as Arrow's screams grew louder and more frantic.

"I. Want. More!" Arrow sobbed, his words broken by hiccups.

"What's he crying about this time?" Alexander asked, drying his hands with a kitchen towel. 

"He wants more sweets," Ari muttered.

Arrow reached out desperately for Alexander, hoping he would rescue him and grant his wish. But Ari knew he had to prove to Willem—and perhaps to himself—that he could handle it. With firm resolve, he carried the struggling boy to what had become their bedroom.

"We're staying here until you calm down," Ari declared. The door clicked shut behind them, muffling Arrow's sobs, though they still echoed faintly through the teal House's walls. Ari stood by the door, his hurt fingers throbbing, his mind racing. He knew he had to stay firm, but his heart ached at the sight of Arrow's tear-streaked face, twisted in frustration and sadness.

Arrow sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the side, kicking the air with the kind of stubbornness only a little boy could muster. His cheeks were still wet, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath between hiccuping sobs. Ari knelt in front of him, keeping his voice calm but firm.

"Little bear, we can't always get what we want," Ari said softly, brushing a stray curl from Arrow's forehead. "I know it's upsetting, but you've had enough sweets for now. We need to have dinner soon, and then maybe, if you're good, we can have something sweet after."

Arrow sniffled, looking down at his hands. For a moment, Ari thought he might finally be getting through to him. But then, Arrow's small face crumpled again, and he buried his head in his hands, the sobs starting anew.

"I-I want more," he mumbled through his tears.

Ari felt his resolve weakening. This wasn't just about sweets, he realized. Something deeper was troubling Arrow, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But before he could figure out how to reach his little brother, there was a soft knock on the door.

Ari hesitated, then opened the door slightly. Willem stood there, his expression a mix of concern and understanding.

"May I?" Willem asked gently.

Ari hesitated again but then nodded, stepping aside to let Willem into the room. Willem crouched down beside Ari, close enough to be at eye level with Arrow but not so close as to overwhelm the little boy.

"Arrow," Willem began in a calm, soothing voice, "I know you're upset. And it's okay to be upset. But you need to listen to what Ari says."

Arrow peeked through his fingers at Willem, still hiccuping, but his cries were beginning to subside.

"You know," Willem continued, "when I was your age, I used to get upset too when I couldn't have what I wanted. But my mom taught me something that helped me a lot. She told me that every time I felt very big feelings, like anger or like crying, I should take a deep breath and count to five. Do you think you can try that with me?"

Arrow hesitated, then nodded slightly, still sniffling. Willem smiled gently, holding up his hand.

"Let's do it together," Willem said. "One... two... three... four... five."

Arrow took a shaky breath, following Willem's lead, his little chest rising and falling as he counted along. By the time they reached five, his sobs had quieted, replaced by a few lingering hiccups.

"There you go," Willem said softly. "See? You're already feeling a little better, right?"

Arrow nodded again, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Ari stood frozen, a storm of emotions churning inside him—relief mingling with anger, frustration tempered by confusion. Why did Willem stir up such conflicting feelings within him? "I'll go start dinner," Ari muttered, needing an excuse to escape the room. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Willem watched Ari's retreating back with a sigh. He glanced down at Arrow, who was still sniffling but calmer now. "How about you go wash your face and then go play with Amery and Ken for a while?" Willem suggested gently.

Arrow nodded, his little face brightening as he darted towards the stairs, his footsteps echoing as he hurried down.

Willem followed Ari into the kitchen, where the countertops gleamed from a recent cleaning spree. He gave Alexander a nod of approval, which was met with an exaggerated eye roll.

"Ari, can I show you something?" Willem asked, his voice careful, as though treading on fragile ground.

Ari paused, taking a deep breath before turning to face Willem. "Sure," he said.

Willem led him down the hall to the room that had become a catch-all for their clutter. He opened the door, revealing a space that was now transformed. "Henry, Andreas, and I cleared out this room," Willem explained, stepping aside to let Ari enter. "We moved everything upstairs to make space."

Ari stepped inside, his eyes landing on the rocking chair, and a new small bed and a sturdy baby crib, their wooden frames gleaming in the soft light. He ran his hand over the crib, feeling the smooth, polished wood under his fingertips.

"Henry told me he had been working on these for some time now" Willem continued, a touch of nervousness creeping into his voice. "We thought it would be good for the boys to have their own room here."

Ari remained silent, his hand still resting on the crib. He couldn't deny that the boys needed a proper bedroom, a space to call their own. But at the same time, the thought of them being apart from him, even by just a few walls, tugged at his heart.

"It just needs a few finishing touches," Willem added, sensing Ari's hesitation. "A carpet, some curtains... a few things to make it feel more like theirs."

"Thank you," Ari finally said, his voice soft, uncertain. He wasn't sure what to make of the gesture or the emotions it stirred in him. He knew this was the right thing, but the idea of not having the boys by his side every night left him feeling strangely hollow.

"Arrow's starting to test you," Willem said after a moment, breaking the silence.

"Test me?" Ari echoed, his brow furrowing.

Willem nodded. "He feels safe with you, Ari. He's a little boy who's been through a lot, including being abandoned by someone he trusted. Giving him his own room might help him understand that he's here to stay, that he's not going anywhere."

Ari nodded slowly, playing with his fingers as he absorbed Willem's words. "Yeah, you're probably right," he admitted, though his voice was distant, his thoughts still tangled.

"I'm going to start dinner now," Ari added, needing to retreat, to process everything in the familiar rhythm of cooking.

"Okay," Willem replied, watching Ari walk away, unsure if he had helped or only added to the turmoil swirling within him.

In the kitchen, Ari started preparing dinner with more intensity than needed, determined to ignore the throb in his aching fingers. He seasoned the potatoes and carrots with quick, sharp movements before shoving them into the oven. Next, he grabbed the skewers and began threading chunks of chicken onto them, each jab of the skewer a little too enthusiastic.

Alexander sidled up beside him, watching Ari's slightly aggressive skewering. "You okay there?" he asked, an amused glint in his eye.

"I'm fine," Ari replied, his tone clipped, as another piece of chicken met its fate.

Andreas wandered over, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows. "Okay, Ari?" he asked, looking between his two younger brothers.

"Ari's imagining he's skewering someone," Alexander said with a smirk, lazily leaning against the counter as if he were an innocent bystander in the drama unfolding.

"Leave me alone," Ari muttered darkly, eyes still fixed on his poultry victims.

Alexander raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Andreas and I have... pressing matters to attend to anyway, don't we?"

"Yes," Andreas nodded with exaggerated seriousness.

But Ari wasn't having it. He turned, skewers raised like a culinary general issuing commands. "You're staying for dinner. Then you can go off and do... whatever ridiculous things you do."

Alexander and Andreas exchanged a look, their grand escape foiled. In unison, they let out the most dramatic groans, slumping against the counter like children sentenced to a great injustice.

"Fine," Alexander sighed, "but don't overcook the chicken." He barely dodged Ari's skewer as he dashed away, giggling like a child who'd narrowly escaped a tickling match.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✨ 🥖 🧁 ✨ :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

After dinner, Andreas and Alexander had quietly slipped away from the Teal House. Now, Andreas found himself leaning casually against an old, weathered fence, his self-appointed post as the evening's reluctant lookout. He scanned the horizon, waiting for Alexander to return, but his eyes soon wandered, drifting over the sleepy field stretched out before him. The trees swayed with lazy grace in the gentle breeze, while the stars above twinkled. The air carried the faintest hint of autumn, cool and crisp, like fall was sneaking up, tiptoeing closer with each passing gust.

But amidst all the quiet beauty, his thoughts drifted to Michael. He'd been gone for a week, though it was only supposed to be a few days. Andreas felt a weight settling in his chest. He had tried to write to him, but words always felt heavy in his hands. Speaking had never been easy for him, but somehow, putting his feelings into ink on a page was even harder.

Meanwhile, Alexander found himself tiptoeing through the night toward an old barn, his eyes flicking between the crumpled map in his hand and the shadowy shapes around him. He was determined to find the secret path into the Royal Gardens, even if the map seemed more interested in confusing him than helping. Suddenly, a loud "MOO" shattered the stillness, and Alexander leaped into the air as though launched by a spring. Whipping around, he found himself nose-to-nose with a cow that looked distinctly unimpressed by his antics.

"Well, hello there," Alexander greeted, as if cow encounters were a regular part of his day. The cow stared back, its gaze steady and unblinking.

"Not sure how much you understand," Alexander continued, tilting his head thoughtfully, "but you wouldn't happen to know a secret way into the Royal Gardens, would you?"

The cow blinked. Silent.

"Right, you can't talk," Alexander added with a dramatic sigh, as if personally offended by the cow's lack of communication skills. "But you could at least point me in the right direction?"

Another loud "MOO" was the only reply, and Alexander rolled his eyes, as though the cow was deliberately being difficult.

"GET AWAY FROM MY COWS!" A furious shout suddenly rang out from the darkness.

Alexander's heart skipped a beat as he frantically searched for Andreas, who was supposed to be keeping watch. But alas, Alexander had wandered too far from the fence. In a flash, he bolted, the angry farmer's voice booming through the night.

"GIVE ME BACK MY COW!" the farmer bellowed, his words echoing across the field.

"I don't want your bloody cow!" Alexander shot back, glancing over his shoulder—only to realize, with growing horror, that the cow was now trotting after him. "STOP FOLLOWING ME!"

By the fence, Andreas had stretched out on the grass, contentedly stargazing and savoring the peaceful quiet when the distant commotion caught his ear. He sighed, sitting up just in time to see his brother barreling toward him, a cow thundering along in hot pursuit. With a resigned shake of his head, Andreas scrambled to open the fence, letting Alexander and his bovine companion through before slamming it shut.

The farmer, now red-faced and huffing like a steam engine, had given up the chase, resorting instead to muttering an impressive array of curses while leaning over with hands on his knees.

"Come on, Andreas!" Alexander called breathlessly as he continued to flee.

Andreas sighed once more, casting a glance at the stars as if asking for their patience, then at the cow, who looked surprisingly pleased with itself. With a reluctant groan, he took off after his little brother and their new, four-legged friend, disappearing into the night

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✨ 🥖 🧁 ✨ :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Aristotle muttered a string of colourful words under his breath, wincing as his fingers throbbed in protest. They were puffing up like little sausages now, and he swore they might burst if he wasn't careful. Still, he soldiered on, hanging up laundry on the rooftop clothesline, pretending the dull ache in his hands wasn't as bad as it felt.

"Ari!" Arrow's excited voice rang out, the little boy scampering up the stairs like a wild thing, His damp hair stuck up in tufts, and he was wearing a nightshirt two sizes too big. Willem must have taken charge of bathtime tonight, Ari thought.

"Hey there, little bear," Ari greeted, scooping up his younger brother with one arm, his other hand strategically avoiding further aggravation. "What are you doing up here? It's chilly, you'll turn into an icicle!"

"Willem say you has a surprise," Arrow announced, eyes wide with innocent expectation.

"Surprise?" Ari blinked, caught off guard. But then it clicked—the new bedroom. Right! Arrow and baby Amery hadn't seen it yet. He grinned, masking the pain still pulsing in his fingertips.

"Ohhh, that's right! A surprise!" Ari said with theatrical excitement, carrying Arrow inside, away from the cool night air, and back down the stairs, Arrow's little feet kicking in glee.

In the kitchen, Willem was busy multitasking, baby Amery on one hip, expertly preparing a bottle with one hand and a cup of something warm for Arrow with the other. 

"Surprise now!" Arrow demanded, bouncing with impatience.

"Patience, little one," Willem chuckled, turning with mild surprise at seeing Ari. "Oh, you found him!" he said to Arrow with a smile, before glancing at Ari. "Shall we show them the surprise?"

Ari nodded, still feeling a bit awkward as they led the boys to their new bedroom. It wasn't far—just a bathroom separated their room from his—but to Ari, it still felt like they were a world away.

Ari opened the door with a soft creak, and before he could blink, Arrow zoomed inside like a whirlwind. "Wow!" he squealed, his eyes wide as saucers as he took in the room. Willem had added mattresses to their beds, topped with fresh crisp white sheets that practically glowed in the lamplight.

Baby Amery, however, was less impressed. He surveyed the room with a look of deep suspicion, his little brows furrowed. His only concern was clearly the whereabouts of his bottle.

"You like it?" Willem asked, leaning in with a gentle smile.

Arrow nodded so eagerly, it was a wonder his head didn't pop right off. "It's mine!" he declared, his voice bursting with pride.

Ari blinked, tears prickled at the edges of his eyes as he realized—had Arrow ever had his own bed before?

Arrow, oblivious to his brother's emotional epiphany, dashed over to the crib and promptly attempted to climb it like a small mountain goat. "This is where Amery's going to sleep!" Willem announced proudly.

"No, mine!" Arrow protested, furrowing his tiny brows.

Ari stifled a laugh and sat on the end of Arrow's 'big boy bed,' which made him feel like a giant in a fairy tale. "But you've got this bed, Arrow. Your very own big boy bed!"

Arrow shuffled over, looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes. "Not a big boy."

"You're not?" Ari asked.

"Nope. I'm a baby," Arrow declared, crossing his arms with all the seriousness of someone stating a grand truth.

Ari caught Willem's gaze, noticing the concern there as he glanced at Ari's swollen fingers. But Ari just smiled, turning back to Arrow. "You'll always be our baby," he said softly, pulling Arrow closer.

Arrow's face grew serious, "Is it mine... for always?"

"For always," Ari confirmed, smiling at the sweetness of his words. "You should thank Henry, Willem, and Andreas. They worked hard to make this for you," Ari added, watching as Arrow's eyes sparkled with understanding.

Then, his gaze landed on a small pile of books in the corner. He picked one up, carried it over to the bed, and climbed in beside Ari, grinning from ear to ear as Ari tucked him in.

Willem, meanwhile, settled into the rocking chair, finally feeding a very patient Amery, who cooed contentedly as the bottle found its way to him. The room, filled with quiet contentment, felt like a small world of its own.

As the soft murmur of Willem rocking baby Amery filled the room, Ari was watching his little brother's eyelids grow heavier with every turn of the page. The warmth in the room seemed to wrap around them like a cozy blanket.

Ari gently brushed a tuft of hair from Arrow's forehead before leaning down to whisper, "Goodnight, little bear." Arrow sighed contentedly, slipping fully into sleep.

Willem, his voice low and soothing, whispered from the rocking chair, "You should rest too, Ari."

Ari glanced over at Willem, baby Amery now peacefully dozing in Willem's arms, his tiny hand clutching the bottle as if it were a treasure. Ari smiled faintly, but the throbbing in his fingers was hard to ignore now. He flexed them absentmindedly, wincing as pain shot up his arm.

"Aristotle," Willem began, his voice laced with the kind of patience that could wear down stone.

"I'm fine," Ari mumbled, though the words hung in the air like a flimsy curtain, barely hiding the truth beneath the room's warm glow.

Willem's eyebrow arched skeptically, unimpressed by the charade. "You're not fooling anyone," he said, carefully adjusting Amery in his arms before standing up from the chair. "Now, let me take a look."

Ari hesitated, his resolve crumbling under Willem's gentle persistence. With a sigh that felt heavier than it should, he extended his hand, allowing Willem to inspect his swollen fingers. Concern etched itself into Willem's face. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."

Ari didn't say anything.

Willem gently placed Amery in the crib. He turned back to Ari, his expression soft but resolute. "Follow me."

Ari rolled his eyes, but despite his best efforts, his feet followed Willem out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, like a petulant shadow with nowhere else to go.

"You don't have to do everything, you know," Willem said as he gently examined Ari's fingers.

Ari stared down at his hand, "I'm the one who takes care of everyone. That's how it is here.''

"You can't pour from an empty cup. You need rest too. Let me help you."

Willem wrapped Ari's fingers in a bandage. The quiet hum of the night seeped through the walls, mingling with the unspoken words hovering between them. Willem retrieved a pill that would help with the pain and swelling, he added a glass of water, offering them to Ari without a word, the gesture leaving no room for argument. The weight of Willem's words lingered in the air, as solid as the moonlight streaming through the window.

Maybe Willem was right, Ari thought. Maybe he didn't have to do it all on his own. But the knot of distrust in his chest wouldn't untangle that easily.

Willem squeezed Ari's shoulder in reassurance before rising. "Come on. You're going to bed."

"I have to go downstairs to the bakery—"

"No. You're going to bed."

Ari's frustration flared, the kind that only a 17-year-old who's been forced to grow up too fast can muster. In a flash of childish defiance, he grabbed the roll of bandage from the counter and hurled it across the room, where it landed with a soft thud in the living room.

Willem's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't waver. If anything, his resolve only hardened. "To bed. Now!"

And this time, there was no room left for argument.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✨ 🥖 🧁 ✨ :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

As Andreas and Alexander hurried away from the farm, they found themselves accompanied by the cow, who trotted along beside them with a surprising sense of purpose. Despite their best efforts to shoo it away or outpace it, the cow refused to be left behind, almost as if it had decided that it was now part of their little adventure.

"This is ridiculous," Alexander muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the cow, who plodded along like it was leading a parade. "We can't take a cow through the city."

Andreas stared at the cow warily.

The cow, oblivious to their concern, kept pace with them as they made their way through the darkened streets. The city was mostly asleep, with only a few stray cats and the occasional night owl to witness the bizarre procession.

As they reached the outskirts of the city, the brothers ducked into a narrow alleyway, hoping the cow might lose interest and wander off. But the stubborn creature simply followed them, squeezing through the tight space with an impressive lack of concern for the situation.

''Home,'' Andreas said, giving up.

''Yeah, I don't think we have a choice but to take it home.''

With the cow still in tow, Andreas and Alexander continued their journey through the dimly lit streets of the city, the animal plodding along behind them as if it had always been part of their family. The brothers exchanged weary glances, both wondering how in the world they were going to explain this situation when they got home.

Finally, after what felt like hours of navigating through narrow alleyways and winding streets, the familiar outline of the Teal House came into view. Its Victorian-style architecture stood tall and proud, even in the darkness, with the warm glow of a single light in the upstairs window offering a welcoming sight. The scent of bread and pastries still lingered faintly in the air, even at this late hour. 

As they approached, the cow let out a low, contemplative moo, as if to ask, Are we there yet? Alexander paused, turning to eye the creature with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant fondness.

"What are we going to do with it?" he asked. 

Andreas rubbed his chin, his expression shifting into the thoughtful frown he wore when devising one of his infamous plans. "Shed," he said suddenly, pointing to the back of the house.

"The shed?" Alexander echoed, dubious.

"Yes." Andreas motioned for them to follow him. 

The trio—two brothers and their unexpected bovine companion—tiptoed (well, the brothers did; the cow's hooves clopped with blissful indifference) around the side of the Teal House to the very small back yard. The high stone fence provided excellent cover, shielding their peculiar predicament from nosy neighbors. A cool breeze whispered through the ivy climbing the fence, as if sharing in the secrecy of the moment.

Andreas opened the shed door, revealing a humble but tidy space. It smelled faintly of sawdust and varnish, remnants of Henry's furniture-building endeavors. A few stray planks of wood leaned against one wall, and a single small lamp perched on the windowsill cast a soft, golden glow. In the center of the shed, a patchwork rug lay sprawled on the floor, as if awaiting just such an occasion.

The cow tilted its head, inspecting the shed with a thoughtful air, then plodded inside without much persuasion. It settled onto the rug with an almost regal grace, letting out a contented sigh that could rival a satisfied grandfather in his favorite armchair.

"Well, that was... easy," Alexander muttered, blinking at the sight.

Andreas dusted his hands theatrically, as if he'd just completed a monumental feat. "Sleep," he instructed the cow. It complied, closing its eyes with a serenity that suggested it had already adopted the shed as its own.

Alexander leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe this is happening. We'll deal with it tomorrow," he said finally, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

The brothers closed the shed door gently behind them and tiptoed back to the house.