20th October, 1894 — Reg & Felix’s flat

So they had lost yesterday’s match against Wimbourne, and last week’s to Kenmare, and never mind the disaster to Falmouth – but they hadn’t lost every match, so what was all this fuss about? There were always teething problems with new players on a team. The mutterings about their female players had gotten louder, though, and Theo was fed up of opening the post from supposed Cannons fans and being treated to their opinions. So he had had a terrible day, and he was at the end of his tether, but he’d had a thought about how to combat some of the bad press.

And he hadn’t given it much of a second thought before acting on it, to be honest. But Reg had been his dormmate for seven years, after all – if anyone would write just one reasonable article about them, surely Reg would. (Theo might have forgotten that Reg had moved departments from sports to crime and politics until he was standing at the door of his friend’s flat, knocking at the door – but it didn’t matter; Theo could still pick his brain and find out which of his former sports colleagues would be most help.)

He realised it was late in the evening, and Alderton might be busy, but – oh, there was the door. “Hey,” Theo said, a weight already off his shoulders just to see a friendly face. “Can I come in?” He didn’t wait for Reg to answer before he stepped in.

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Reginald Alderton/Gus Lissington

  

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Reg sat in the armchair, his elbows pressed to his knees as he stared at nothing in particular, a red ink tipped quill in hand with an assortment of sheets of parchment scattered around him. A mug of tea that had long since gone cold was beginning to form a ring on the table sat to his right, and next to that was a saucer with a barely eaten slice of apple pie and a fork nestled next to it. His mother had given him the pie because she didn’t seem to think that two bachelors were capable of finding their own food, never mind that he and Felix had someone come in and cook for them. Reg always accepted the offer because he learned that it was better not to fight her on this.

After letting out a frustrated huff the wizard dropped the quill and leaned back, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. He had a story due soon and the muse was not there for him and Felix wasn’t home to bounce ideas off of. Maybe that was the issue - Reg missed his boyfriend and all he could concentrate on was how many more hours, minutes, seconds until Felix was back home with him.

The knock at the door made his features brighten before they promptly fell because of course Felix wouldn’t knock on his own door. Still, Reg unfolded himself from the chair to go answer it, happy to have at least some form of distraction from his current predicaments. He blinked in surprise as Theo stepped past him into the flat without waiting for an answer; well, at least he hadn’t had any intention of turning him away once he saw who it was.

“Theo,” Reg murmured, shutting the door behind him before he turned toward him. His eyes swept over the room and he couldn’t help but wince – the place was a mess and he was half embarrassed for his friend to see the place like this. He and Felix didn’t normally live like this. He moved a pile of books, a combination of his and Felix’s, although at this point it was their stuff versus mine and yours, off the couch before he waved for Theo to take a seat. “Sit down. You look like you’ve been hit by a Bludger—several, actually.” Well, at least his expression did.

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Theodore Gallivan // Elias Grimstone

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He was intruding and he knew it – Reg wouldn’t have been clearing the mound of books away if he hadn’t been. Was his roommate in? Theo had been going to ask, and to say he’d get out of the way, but thank Merlin, Reg had told him to sit.

Theo threw himself down in the spot that had opened up on the couch. “Sorry,” he prefaced, rueful. “Bit of a shite day. Week. While. I don’t know – I could use your advice... But how are you?” He added, before he launched into it: he scanned the room, spotting all the parchment, the tea, the slice of pie.

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Reg was pleased when Theo sat, if only because he could stop the awkward clearing of books. Still, his hand lingered on a precariously balanced stack of books as he squinted at his friend, a flicker of concern passing over his face. Nodded because he understood what it was like to have a terrible week, but Reg had never been one to press for details. Theo would tell when, or really if, he was ready.

“I’m alright.” Reg hesitated, because he didn’t want this moment to become about him. He straightened up and gestured vaguely at the scattered parchment and the half-eaten slice of pie on the side table. “Have a story due soon, but you can see how well it’s going.” He’d get it done, though. Reg hadn’t missed a deadline yet, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.

He moved a few more books onto the floor before settling into the armchair opposite of the couch, his gaze resting on Theo. “What's got you in a knot? I can get you some tea, or something stronger before we start.”

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“If you’ve got something stronger,” Theo echoed hopefully. Reg had a tea already, but if there was any benefit to living alone (or with a roommate, as opposed to one’s family) was that there was no one, with any luck, to judge your drinking habits. And he felt a little stupid now that he was here, because pleading for just a little good press was probably not the way to do things.

But Reg was – Reg, as familiar a face as they came. So maybe being here couldn’t hurt, even if it was just to complain for a while and pilfer from his drinks stores. “Oh, it’s – just quidditch stuff. Sorry, I forgot you’re not in sports anymore,” he admitted, with a wry laugh. “How’s crime treating you, anyway?”

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One of Reg’s favorite activities was getting tipsy in the flat with Felix, if only because he could often coax his boyfriend into dancing with him. He’d be more inclined to go to balls if he could do the same there. With a nod, Reg moved out of the room, briefly, to grab a bottle of whiskey, along with a couple glasses, returning quickly. He settled everything onto the side table, leaning forward to pour a respectable amount of whiskey, although as he glanced at Theo, Reg decided he probably needed a little more than respectable, so he poured until both glasses were filled near the top.

Then he pushed it toward his friend, offering him a smile. “You can thank Anthony for that,” Reg mumbled with an eyeroll; why his older brother would decide to sponsor a team after he’d gotten a job as a sport reporter was beyond him, but it had certainly made him look bias. But then again Anthony was always a selfish bastard, moonlighting as a knight in shining armor. “I miss it, I think. But crime is good. Interesting. Felix and I get to work together a lot, which is a lot of fun.” Plus now Reg had a reason to be his shadow without it looking weird.

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   Theodore Gallivan

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Theo’s mood improved by a measure or two just from having the drink in hand or the unquestioning commiseration of a friend. He raised his glass in a mock-toast, and took a hearty swig. He didn’t want to intrude for too long, not if Reg had work to do and stories to write, but getting drunk at his flat sounded like a very tempting solution to his bad mood problems in the meantime.

It struck him, as he snorted at the unwitting sound of crime is good out of context, that Alderton seemed to be in a rather good mood – he seemed light here, happy and at ease. Maybe the freedom of living out in this flat, of having a job he enjoyed – with Felix, apparently. (Theo knew the other Prewett twin better, obviously, for quidditch reasons.) But he knew Reg well enough to poke fun. “Working together and living together?” he remarked, raising his eyebrows as if impressed. “You two must really get along.”

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   Reginald Alderton

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A small laugh escaped him as Theo raised his glass. Yeah, this was a hell of a lot better than trying to sit down and write, and maybe after a few drinks and a few more laughs, Reg would be more interested in work. He settled into the chair, taking a swig of his own drink before he found his gaze flicking over to Theo, his eyes widening for a moment as he mentioned Felix – surely Theo hadn’t put two and two together already.

Instantly Reg was waving his hand dismissively. “Well, you know. Felix is well, he’s Felix.” He wasn’t sure how well Theo knew him, but hopefully well enough to know his personality: kind, loving, funny as hell, and quite frankly, someone who was easy to become smitten with. God, how in the world did he describe his boyfriend without using the word perfect? Reg cleared his throat. “It made sense to move in together since we work so closely, and now we can finish up work here, instead of the office.”

Reg leaned back in his chair, deciding more words would make this situation better. “Plus he hasn’t murdered me in my sleep yet, either because he’s tired of me or for the story, so I suppose we do get along well.” He drummed his fingers nervously against the side of the glass in his hands. “He either has the patience of a saint, though, putting up with me at work and at home,” he shrugged before he turned toward Theo, quickly adding, “or maybe he just doesn’t have any other friends, so I’m his only option.” Though Felix was Felix – if he wanted someone else, he would have them in an instance.

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