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“You should get a pet.”
Percy lifted his head from where it had been pressed into the seat cushion of his lumpy second-hand couch. “What?”
“A pet. You know, the weird little space aliens that don’t speak a language we’re capable of understanding? Most common ones are fuzzy and walk on four legs? You should get one.”
“How do you even know what a space alien is?” Percy frowned at the man seated in his equally lumpy armchair. The man that, bafflingly, had decided he was going to be Percy’s new best friend shortly after they’d become neighbours. Despite the fact that Percy already had a best friend. And that best friend didn’t get along with this new ‘imposter best friend’. (Oliver’s words.)
“What? I read.” The man shrugged with a smirk.
“Since when do you read muggle books?”
“Some of them are magazines.” He waved a hand dismissively. “And it was interesting.” Marcus Flint crossed his ankles, feet propped up on Percy’s coffee table. He wanted to tell Flint to get his feet off the table, but it was already so scratched and scuffed that he ultimately didn’t see a point.
“You were never interested in anything muggles had to offer before,” Percy said, pushing himself up into a (mostly) sitting position, slumped back.
“Yeah, well, people change,” Flint shrugged again.
“You’re people?” Flint just snorted at this. Percy shook his head. “Alright, whatever. Why would I even want to get a pet?”
“You need something, Perce,” he said, setting his feet on the floor and leaning his elbows on his knees. “Ever since the divorce, you’ve spent all your non-work time shut up in this crappy apartment. Alone.”
“You’re here,” Percy grumbled. Even he could see how weak that argument was.
“I break in and don’t give you a choice,” Flint countered. “And you spend the entire time just moping from one end of the apartment to the other. You don’t even clean.” He gestured to various old take-out containers and clutter around the living area. “This place looks like mine did when I was still an active quidditch player.” If it was anything like Oliver Wood’s had been, it was a disaster area. Percy remembers that much.
“It’s not that bad. And I am not alone all the time.”
“The mice in what’s left of the kitchen don’t count,” Flint deadpanned. “When was the last time you went to the pub after work with your mates? When was the last time you physically hung out with ‘Ollie’ outside of this?” He gestured vaguely around.
“I…” The realization that he didn’t know made Percy want curl up under a blanket and ignore everything. Again.
“Get a cat.”
Percy frowned. “Why a cat?”
Flint sighed. “I’d say a dog, if just to get you to go outside, but you clearly don’t have the energy for one right now. At least a cat will give you a companion, and maybe solve your pest problem at the same time.”
Percy looked aimlessly around the room. He slumped onto his side, sighing in defeat. The prat was right. He hasn’t been the same since the divorce. He’d thought that everything with Audrey had been going so well. They’d been married for years, had two wonderful children, a nice house they’d fully owned, and he had a stable job that didn’t make him want to hex himself… He’d loved his life. And then, one day, out of nowhere, reality had slapped him in the face and kneed him in the groin for good measure. His wife didn’t love him anymore.
He’d come home one day to find out she’d filed for divorce. And when it was all over, she’d ended up with pretty much everything except half his savings. They didn’t even share custody of their children.
He’d managed to pull on something that wasn’t covered in stains, wasn’t smelly, and wasn’t to be saved for work. Flint had broken in (for the millionth time) and dragged him to an animal shelter in the muggle world (of all places). Among all the other cats was this fluffy black one that actually managed to look more bedraggled than him. Its fur stuck up everywhere, making it look like it’d been electrocuted, and it had a snaggletooth.
“It’s ugly,” Flint stated.
“So am I,” Percy stated back. Staring at the cat, he didn’t see the look Flint gave him. He tilted his head. “I’m getting him.”
“If you’re sure,” Flint muttered skeptically. After a moment he snickered and offered “You should name him Giorgio Tsoucatlos.”
Giorgio Tsoucatlos left a dead mouse on Percy’s pillow the second night in the apartment. Percy had almost been ready to toss the damn thing out (the cat as well as the mouse). He filled three garbage bags with, well, garbage instead. After a week, they’re curling up on the couch together in the much cleaner living room.
By the end of the second week, most of the laundry was clean. Still piled in the hamper, but clean.
Percy was sitting at a table in the Sunken Pirate Ship pub, picking at the label of his bottle of Atlantean Ale. It was the third time he’d gone out after work in the past two weeks just to hang out with Oliver.
“So, how’s that possessed kneazle you have the nerve to call a cat?” Oliver asked, digging into a plate of gravied chips.
“Giorgio is fine. Thanks.” Percy rolled his eyes. Oliver was just being peevish that the cat sat on Flint’s lap but just snapped his eyes at Oliver and looked away. That could be because he still didn’t like Flint, or it could be because Giorgio made a point of making eye contact with Oliver before snapping his eyes. Percy wasn’t completely sure. He was just glad Oliver put up with Flint’s company while in Percy’s apartment.
“Has his home world sent word they’re going to invade yet?”
Percy rolled his eyes. Of all things for the two former quidditch rivals to have a shared interest in (other than quidditch), the written works of ufologists was not one Percy could’ve ever guessed. Honestly, he would’ve rather he’d never learnt what the hell they were talking about when they’d get into heated debates while vising.
He took another swig as Oliver rambled about his week.
After six weeks of Percy finally spending time with other people, Flint decided to drag him into muggle London to see a play. A rendition of the Scottish play. It was rather good. Percy’s father had owned a copy of Shakespeare’s complete works and he’d read it, cover to cover, multiple times as a teenager.
The next week, they’d visited an outdoor market. The week after, the Natural History Museum. It became part of Percy’s routine. Once a week, on Saturdays, he and Flint would venture into muggle London for part of the day.
Another two months had passed before Percy realized he was actually opening the door to invite Marcus in. It took another three weeks for him to question when he’d started to think of him as Marcus.
Giorgio stretched out on Percy’s messily made bed as Percy looked at his reflection in the full body mirror leaning against the wall behind his bedroom door. He figured he should actually get around to hanging it on the back of the door sometime, but shrugged. At least it no longer had the weird layer of dust on it. He squinted at his reflection and wondered if a long-sleeved t-shirt and denim was too casual. He shook his head and went to put on his shoes and a long, black coat. Marcus will be here soon for their weekly outing.
The aquarium is nice. They’re stood in front of a large tank filled with jellyfish, watching the creatures move. Everything is bathed in a soothing blue glow. Percy can feel the body heat coming from the man standing next to him. It’s nice. The company. The last time he felt like this with…
He realized, quite suddenly, that he’d forgotten the second anniversary of his divorce had come and gone without him noticing. Last year he’d ended up getting plastered and spent the evening listening to Julie London on his old record player while lying on the floor. In fact, he realized he hadn’t thought about his ex-wife in weeks.
He glanced next to him. Marcus was focused on the alien-like creatures in the tank. He looked mesmerized. Percy blinked, studying the man’s features in the blue light, thinking back on the last year or so. Remembering all the times Marcus had picked him up off the floor and all but demanded he take a blooming shower already. The times when Percy just couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed and the man left a cup of tea and something edible on his bedside table. The judgement that made Percy feel more cared for than anything else.
Marcus turned his head, catching Percy’s eye. He smiled a lopsided smile.
Percy returned it.
—30—