undergrounds | How much is that doggy in the window?

Who: Matt and Simon
What: Matt discovers Simon's secret
Where: Simon's Flat
When: November 5

Life in London was far more interesting than Matt had ever anticipated.

The Redbright Institute wasn't bad. They had a lot to offer him in the ways of controlling his powers. He was grateful for that. However, what he really liked best was culture and all of the new people he was able to meet. And today, Guy Fawkes Day, was no different.

It was such a strange holiday, if it was even considered that. It wasn't anything like holidays back home where everything was so overblown and commercialized. There was a purity to the spirit of the day, even if it was macabre. Matt had spent the day watching people, enjoying the November afternoon before he headed back to his flat for his daily ritual of "Let's bother Simon".

That was another thing that Matt hadn't expected. Simon could be a bit stuffy and more uptight than Matt ever could imagine himself becoming, but he really enjoyed living with him. Honestly, he felt closer to Simon than anyone which was why it the sight of the large, fluffy white dog in the middle of their very small flat surprised him.

"Hello, who is this?" he said, shutting the door behind him. He walked over to the dog and knelt down, reaching his hand out to pet him. "When did Simon get you?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, fuck.

Simon didn't usually traipse about the house in furry form, but he did when his flatmate wasn't going to be home for hours and he desperately needed to do laundry because he had no clean clothing left. At all.

He looked up at his flatmate, pulling back from the offered hand.

Go away, Matt. Go to the pub or something.

Sadly, as a shapeshifter he lacked Matt's particular persuasive ability.

"Aww, you don't have to be afraid of me, Pups," Matt said, figuring that the dog must be skittish of him. "I'm a nice guy, really! Puppers love me back home. But I bet you need a little convincing."

Matt walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He pulled out a package of lunch meet that he'd segregated from Simon's 'Veggie's Only' compartment. Simon might be a vegetarian but Matt wasn't ready to give up turkey sandwiches just yet.

"Here you go," Matt said, bringing a slice over to the living room. "Don't worry, I won't tell Simon I gave you people food. It'll be our little secret."

The dog gave Matt an almost human look of incredulity when he went to the fridge. Really? Lunch meat? Nasty stuff.

He turned up his nose at the offered food and sat on the futon, tail thumping impatiently.

"No? Not hungry?"

Matt shrugged and ate the piece of turkey instead. He sat down on the futon, reaching out to bet the dog once more. "You really shouldn't get in the habit of sitting on the furniture. I'm going to have to get one of those lint brushes for the fur. But, I'll let it slide this once. Wonder what Simon named you?"

I'll sit wherever I fucking want, Simon thought rebelliously. I bought the furniture. And assembled it. The futon in question had required two subsequent trips back to IKEA for the right parts, and he still thought it squeaked rather alarmingly when more than one person was on it at a time.

The washer-dryer in the kitchen buzzed and Simon got off the couch, padding over to it. Using his teeth, he managed to open it and dug around the warm, linty mess for a pair of boxers.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Matt said, following the dog over to the dryer. "No chewing up the clothes."

He tried to grab the boxers away from the dog. "I'm thinking we need to put you into obedience school. Or at least get you your own chew toy."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Simon gave Matt an annoyed bark and tried to grab back his underwear. This was absolutely the stupidest and most ridiculous situation he'd ever been in.

Finally, he retreated back into his own bedroom.

A minute later, he reemerged, fully human and with a blanket wrapped around himself.

"Now may I have my clothing?" He asked, exasperated.

Matt had been about to chase after the dog when Simon reappeared. His brain didn't connect the two together. He sat on the floor with Simons boxers in one hand and a confused looking his face.

Then it struck him.

"Holy shit," he said. "You're Pups?"

"...Pups?"

Simon snatched back his boxers and retreated back into his own room long enough to put them on. Sighing, he went to the kitchen and retrieved the rest of his laundry. Honestly. He'd had terrible luck with Americans lately, hadn't he?

"I'm a shapeshifter, if that's what you mean," he replied eventually. "There aren't many of us hanging around Redbright, but there you go. Didn't you wonder what I'd done to rate an invite to Gilbert Norrell's little victory 'do?"

"I had just assumed you were that popular," Matt shrugged. He pushed himself to his feet and followed Simon, too stunned to consider giving him privacy.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "You know what I am. Don't you trust me?"

He didn't try to hide the fact he was a bit hurt. This wasn't a little secret. This was a big deal. Matt had thought that they were on the way of becoming friends as well as roommates. Now he wondered if it hadn't all been wishful thinking.

Simon raised an eloquent eyebrow. Him? Popular? He could count his friends on one hand.

He was about to say something to that effect when he stopped and realized how hurt Matt looked by all this. That was perplexing. Simon had never intended to reveal this side of himself anyway; Matt had forced his hand by coming home early.

Still...

"It's not that I don't trust you," Simon began, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. "I hadn't...I mean..." He took a deep breath. "It may sound stupid now that I've battled witches and fae in Lambeth and been made a prefect, of all things, at Redbright Institute, but...I never wanted it. Any of it. All I wanted was to be a normal person, doing a normal job, and taking classes at a normal university. I hid it from you because I hide it from everyone."

"Why?" Matt asked, his confusion sincere. "It's a part of who you are. And who defines what 'normal' is, anyway? Would you be any different if you weren't a shifter? Would life? No one is normal. Everyone has something about them that makes them different. Why not embrace it? Fighting it just becomes tiring."

Matt sat down on the sofa and curled his feet up to his chest. "I did the normal thing. Blended into the crowd and kept my head down and my mouth shut. I hated it. And even then I couldn't escape the fact that I was different; that I was only a few steps away from being locked away in the loony bin with my mother. Normal is fucking overrated."

"I'm not fighting it, necessarily," Simon countered with a shrug. "It's taken years, but I feel like I'm finally accepting it. I never would have agreed to help out in Lambeth even a few months ago. I'm more interested in understanding it than anything else. That's why I spend so much time in the lab. I want to know why I am what I am. It's why I've spent so much time looking for my birth parents." And now that he'd made a deal that exchanged help with finding them for Simon's dignity, maybe he'd finally start having luck.

He reached into the clothes bin for a pair of jeans and a shirt, and after donning them he joined Matt on the futon. This seemed to really be affecting Matt, much more than Simon thought it would. "Normal was safer for me, for a time. Now it's gone completely out the window."

Maybe it was time to change the topic.

"Drinks?"

Matt could appreciate that. There was a lot about Simon that he didn't know. It really shouldn't have come as such a shock that there were secrets - big secrets- that Simon didn't share with anyone. Matt didn't always share his own thoughts. Normally it didn't bother him to keep relationships surface level only. But Simon was different than that. Matt couldn't explain why, he just was.

"I can't say no to a drink," he said, pushing a smile onto his face. "We are friends, right? Mates? Seems like a silly question."

Simon blinked at the question. Were they friends? They'd fallen into an easy sort of equilibrium since Matt had moved in, and Simon found that he found himself enjoying himself a lot more now that he was around. Did that mean friendship?

He shrugged. "Sure, whatever. Right then, mate, first round's on you for playing keep-away with my pants."

How much is that doggy in the window?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject