In a run-down neighborhood, a brunette stood, walking along towards the more cheerful part of town.
"You really mean it?"The red-eyed man said, trying to hide his thankfulness.
"But of course, Allie! It's just what friends do!"
Allen cringed at the term 'friends', but was too happy and thankful to correct him on the nickname he secretly loved.
"I have to warn you, though, Francois is staying here as well, remember?"
Allen groaned.
"Now, now, Allie! You can't get into any fights!"
"I know, I know. I haven't gotten into any with him yet. Don't worry."He said.
'Any fights that you've seen.'
--

Allen crashed on the brightly colored couch, sighing happily.
It felt good to be back on this couch, he thought.
His lips twitched and he surprised another happy, this one even happier, sigh, as a sweet giggle was heard, and Oliver draped himself on top of the American.
Allen didn't have the heart to push Oliver away, or insult him; it was already hard enough to not hug him tight and kiss him senseless.
It was a pattern they'd fallen into;
Allen's new house gets condemned.
Oliver takes him in.
Allen moves out (eventhoughherreallywantstostayforever,butdoesn'twanttoburdernsweetOluver).
Rinse and repeat.
They were on step two, right now, and with his love for Oliver getting more out of hand by the second, it was getting harder to resist those sweet moves he pulled.
As Allen opened his eyes, it got even harder, along with his dick, though he quickly subdued that.
Oliver was in shorts.
And not that khaki shit, he was in the kind that girls would wear, where it was at the borderline of letting his ass hang out.
Shit.
Allen really wanted to touch those legs, run his hands up and down the back of those smooth thighs, and grope that sweet, lovely, ass.
But would Oliver be mad?
Wait, this wasn't a shitty fanfic, of course he wouldn't be mad, there's no reason to be scared.
His hands moved, shakily, albeit himself, about to touch the backs of those milky thighs, when his biggest source of happiness was yanked away from him, and into the arms of someone else.
Oliver squeaked, having been nuzzling into Allen's neck and testing at his resolve, and Allen sat up and unintentionally growled, reaching up to take Oliver back, but failing, as Oliver now had two arms wrapped around his waist, pressed to Francois's body.
Allen hated the image in front of him with a burning passion.
His sweet, sweet Oliver, still a bit confused, looking up at the Frenchman with those big, innocent eyes that should be meant for Allen, and Allen only.
That dirty Frenchman holding him tight to his body, glaring back at Allen.
"Sorry for the surprise, Oliver; This asshole was about to grope you."
'I'm the asshole?!'He wanted to tell, but his mouth was glued shut with anger as both him and Oliver turned red.
"I-I see..."Oliver stuttered softly, not looking at either, his cheeks a light pink.
'He might hate me!'Allen panicked, and quickly thought up an excuse.
"Actually, his shorts were riding up, and I don't think anyone wanted to see his freckled ass."Allen lied through his teeth.
That last part was the biggest lie Allen had ever made, because he knew that both him and Francois would do anything to see Oliver's ass without the barrier of clothes; they already shoved each other to get a good view of when Ollie bent over to get something.
"Really?"Francois drawled, knowing the lie could never be true.
Oliver, was oblivious, however.
"Oh, sorry. Welcome home anyway!"He giggled, holding out his arms for a hug as Allen stood up, and to everyone's surprise, hugged Oliver close, nearly possessively, and the shorter just giggled oh so sweetly and hugged him back, and, with Oliver unable to see, Allen grinned at the scowling Francois.