February 26th, 1889 - Gibson's Books

Arthur did not make a habit out of hanging out in bookshops. This was probably not a surprise. However, this bookshop belonged to Gordon so although he found them deeply boring as a concept, Arthur was happy to sit near the front of the bookstore and drink a beer while he waited for Gordon to close up the shop. The plan for the evening was that they had no plan, but Art was essentially a social creature - he didn't much care what they did after this.

The topic was, as the topic often was these days, the Quidditch World Cup. "I don't know if I'll try out," Arthur said, a sentence he had started to verbalize lately, but one that still left the taste of ash in his mouth. The thing was, Quidditch was moving past him. He was turning thirty-one in less than a month. Fitz was retired, as was much of their cohort. He could try out for the team, but he might not make it - and if he didn't make the team after captaining it the last time Britain hosted, that was a shame Arthur wasn't quite ready for.

It might be time to retire.

He had no plans for after he retired.

He took a sip of his beer. "But of course it's a rare opportunity to have us host it again so soon. So I haven't really decided."

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Gordon Gibson

  

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set by MJ <3

"Yer a feckin' liar and we both know it." Gordon prided himself on being able to read people and Art Quidditch-is-my-Life Pettigrew was an open book. There was a chance to play in another world cup, an event that Art captained last time. There was no way he wouldn't participate this time, married old fart or not.

Puttering around the shop, putting a few things away, money in the safe, nothing unreasonable, but entirely boring if one wasn't a little obsessive compulsive about the cleanliness and order of their workspace. Plus he knew they'd be going out and getting drunk tonight so he should probably prepare to be hungover tomorrow and therefore leave opening the shop to Toots in the morning. She was used to it, it was fine.

"Just do it, don't be boring." Gordon volunteered with a smirk.

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Arthur took a sip of his beer.

"I'm already old, why not become boring," he said. There was a little snark in his tone, but no bite to it. He was old. Arthur ran through other former team members in his head - Weasley, Lockhart, Gilmore, and Mohr all didn't play anymore. Hell, even Kirke didn't play anymore, and Kirke was younger than Arthur was.

It didn't matter, and Gibson probably was right. Arthur would play Quidditch until his body fell apart or he was forced to retire. And if he wasn't the captain this year that was - fine, probably.

"How's your other business?"

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set by MJ <3

"Age does not necessitate monotony, even if you traded in for monogamy." Gordon pointed out with a raised eyebrow as he turned from putting today's money into the magically enforced safe. Really, marriage was the worst thing Art had settle for in Gordon's opinion. One woman for the rest of your life? No fucking thank you.

"Business is booming on all accounts my friend." The amount of "business" Gordon dabbled in varied by the day, but books aside (selling or writing them), the real money-maker was an ever-evolving game of chance that was really what kept Gordon interested. "Not in need of my services these days are you Arthur?" Another raised eyebrow, this time accompanied by a mischievous smirk.

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Arthur snorted. "I don't currently owe anyone money," he said. He had gone years without being able to say that, and now he could - which had to be worth something. Arthur was all grown up. It felt boring, and it felt fake - there was less of an edge to it. But there were good things about it; he had his wife, and his daughter, and a rented house.

Maybe he just felt like this because he was considering retiring, and because Ben was gone. He took a sip of his beer.

"And that's most of what you specialize in, isn't it? Unless you take bets."

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set by MJ <3

Having known Art Pettigrew for a fair few years at this point, Gordon rather thought the truth in the fact that his friend was not in debt anywhere was quite amusing. "Good for you mate, keep it that way." Being the one indebted to another was not the position to be in. No, Gordon much preferred being on this side of the money lending.

"Not a betting man myself, I like a sure thing." Clicking the till closed, he grabbed a rag to wipe down the counter before tossing that toward the stairs to the basement. "You wouldn't like betting against me anyway." As a general rule of thumb, Gordon didn't often lend money to friends unless they were desperate or he was completely sure they would be good on the return. "Finish that up eh, I'd like to get the fuck out of here for a little while." Randomly wandering around London with a pint in hand generally was frowned upon and brought on unwanted attention and Gordon was in the mood for a wee bit of gentlemanly amusement this evening.

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Arthur shrugged. He had no doubt that he would regret it if he owed money to Gordon; his friend did not have the presence of a relaxed loan shark. He was tall, and took his money seriously - although Art was not confident that Gordon had broken fingers, he would not be surprised if he had.

He chugged the last few sips of his beer, finished it with a massive gulp. "Where do you want to go?" Arthur asked. Dezzie wasn't expecting him home early tonight, or she ought not to be - Dezzie did not like many of his friends, but she especially disliked Gordon Gibson, so Art had not really expanded his explanation past very vague plans for the evening.

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Grinning in triumph as Art downed the last of his beer, Gordon stepped into his office to grab his coat. He needed to get out and socialize, find himself a bedmate for the evening and get a little drunk. Not out of the ordinary for him. "Something with some... entertainment." He suggested, thinking over their options and wondering if Married Arthur would even be down for such establishments these days.

"Unless the Wife will protest?" He quirked an amused eyebrow at his friend, as if daring him to suggest something else.

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Arthur was uneasy. Since marrying Dez, he had more or less stayed away from such establishments - certainly he'd stayed away from all casual sex. But he also didn't want Gordon to think that he was boring. So he gave a considered shrug and said, "I can look but not touch, sure."

There was of course a seed of guilt in his chest, but looking was fine, right? No one said he had to stay for very long.

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set by MJ <3

Grinning in triumph, Gordon would claim zero responsibility for whatever wrath Art faced at home. He'd just subject his mate to merciless teasing afterward. It was fine. That was what friends were for. Shrugging into his coat, Gordon stowed his wand in the inside slit closed the door to his office.

"There's that classy a few streets down from the far end of Knockturn." Classy was a loose term, but at least most of the girls had all of their teeth. "Just a few drinks, my treat." He suggested, sweetening the pot enough to secure his friend's company for a least a little while longer. "Plus there's a buxom blonde I'd like to get my hands on." He joked, leading the way out of the shop.

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Arthur dropped his beer bottle into the wastebasket next to the front desk. "Let's go then," he said, still uneasy. A few drinks was fine though, right? A few drinks, he'd leave after Gordon went to hook up with the blonde, and Dezzie would never know any better. Surely it would be fine.

He let the door swing shut behind him and followed Gordon down the street.

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