Brenton Avery

It was inevitable that he would end up by the dragons. Andromeda was an unfortunate part of going to see the dragons because while he had never really begrudged her choices (and could appreciate the fact that he was still, now, at the age of thirty, unmarried), it would always be more complicated seeing someone like Andromeda in a place as crowded as this. Eyes were everywhere and he wasn’t expected to be civil with the woman who had left him for a muggleborn. But at the dragons there was Marlowe and, well, dragons. So Brenton could put up with the awkwardness of pretending that he didn’t know who Andromeda was for a little bit.

“Should have left you at home,” Brenton found himself muttering when Ash changed direction abruptly and tugged on the leash. It wasn’t the first time that day. With so many sights and sounds, it was all very exciting for a dog who generally saw little beside the rolling hills of the Isle of Harris and the few people with an open invitation to Brenton’s home. And, in actual fact, Brenton didn’t begrudge Ash his bit of fun. It was better than if he had brought Ember along who would have hated to be surrounded by so many strangers. “What now?” he asked, looking over in the direction Ash was trying to drag him, expecting to see a burger stand or maybe a kneazle escaped from the Nature Pavilion and instead found himself face-to-face with Rabastan. “We need to stop running into each other like this,” he commented. There was no avoiding each other, it seemed. First the Valentine’s Carnival and now here, not to mention all the Death Eater meetings in between. That was the trouble with wizarding Britain. At least Brenton never had to worry about seeing his ex from Uagadou everywhere he went.

Brenton was actually having a pretty good day even though if anyone asked he would say otherwise. The heat of the Sun on the longest day of the year was the cherry on the top of being able to nick food from Hagrid when he was distracted by Ash, whom Brenton had brought along for the day. His other dog was at home still, a bit too young for something like this but Ash would be fine for most of the day until the promise of fireworks later in the evening — he didn’t love them like Brenton did. The last few months had been good for Brenton but he had to admit they had been much too boring and the undercurrent of anticipation that the Summer Solstice meant a change to that quiet had put him in much better spirits. Not that it would be obvious to most people. He had always been the sort of person who would grin as the world exploded around him, and not just because he revelled in chaos. Only a few would be able to tell that he was genuinely enjoying himself rather than wearing a smile as a mask. Walden was one, and Snape another, particularly when his eyes lit up on seeing his protégé. A lot of time had passed since that year of working at Hogwarts, recruiting some of the students his sister’s year and below into the Death Eaters but he still considered Snape his star student. A great find, really, not a relative of another Death Eater like how many (including Brenton) had got involved but an extraordinarily talented wizard.

Eugene met Brenton’s eyes when the other spoke, his expression remaining as it was for a second before a grin that didn’t meet his eyes spread across his features. He liked Brenton… Some of the time. And then other times he was like a bored cat, causing chaos even in the tiniest forms to get attention. Surely, there were better places to get that attention than an antique shop, but here he was. Touching things. But Eugene’s wasn’t any old antique shop, and one had to be careful about what they touched. “Just waiting for you to pick up the wrong item,” he said. “Don’t expect me to warn you what that is.”

Walden didn’t notice that Brenton stopped breathing. He was too focused on his own. It’s not that big of a deal, he tried to tell himself. It’s really not much of a confession. How is it different from Walden saying the first thing that pops into his mind when he’s with people he doesn’t like? How is it any different from telling people that they’re shite? He didn’t think that he would ever lose Brenton. It should be simple, uncomplicated, and succinct. 

He barely had time to react to Brenton straddling his lap before their lips crashed together in a climax he wasn’t expecting. Before he knew it, it was over and Brenton was pressing his forehead against his. Brenton was too close for Walden to look at him properly so he ended up closing his eyes too. The silence between them made it seem like his heart was beating faster and louder.

“It felt like I almost did,” Walden admitted. The few months he spent being cross with Brenton were terrible. Utterly terrible. Walden wishes that he’ll never go through that again. But he can’t imagine promising that it’ll never happen again if Brenton finds someone else to be with. “I…” Love. Walden hasn’t used that word since he still had spots and was eager to lose his virginity to Percy. But now, isn’t that what he felt? The realization, unfortunately, isn’t making it easier for him to say. “Choose me,” he almost pleaded. As if Brenton hadn’t already. He tilted his chin up to reach Brenton’s lips again. Hoping that his kiss could say what his words couldn’t.

He didn’t want to talk any more. A hint of a nod when Walden admitted to feeling like he had lost him but otherwise Brenton didn’t feel he needed to say anything else about the matter. What was there to say? Comparing Rabastan and Walden was impossible because his relationship with both of them was so different despite the surface similarities and he liked them both for such different reasons but at the end of the day the threat of losing Walden was one of the things that made him second-guess the whole thing. Even Freya’s opinion mattered where Brenton might not have thought it would before. They were going to have to talk about Rab, but kissing Walden was more important in that moment.

Percy felt bold to be at Walden’s without him there, but at the same time he felt comfortable. He didn’t know where Walden was and when he’d be home - and if he’d be alone - but he had nothing to do and was okay with waiting. He was about to go and find some alcohol to drink to keep himself entertained when he heard someone behind him. He guessed he didn’t have to wait as long as he thought.

“Thought you were Walden,” he said, trying not to sound as surprised as he felt seeing someone other than Walden in the house. He wasn’t unhappy to see Brenton though, he was just curious how the other would feel seeing Percy there instead of Walden. “Yeah? Who told you that?” he asked, relaxing into the conversation almost immediately. They hadn’t gotten to talk one on one too often and Percy was glad to have the chance, even if the circumstances were a tad strange. He wasn’t surprised that Brenton had questions, he just wasn’t expecting the first one to be about Aleia. He paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer that particular question. “Kind of?” he asked more than stated. “I think, based on what I understand about this little arrangement, is that I would have been fine to date her if she was okay with me dating other people too. But she wasn’t okay with that and I couldn’t just date her. I’d feel like I was split somewhere else. That wouldn’t be fair.”

Brenton glanced over Percy for any hint of disappointment that he hadn’t been Walden coming home. “Not for a bit. It’ll be a better welcome for him when he does get back now, aye?” He made himself comfortable lounging on the couch and stared at Percy. “You been telling a lot of people how irresistible I am, then?” he returned, instead of answering the question. It was pretty obvious who had told him, he thought.

It was starting to feel like Walden’s frown was taking up permanent residence on his lips, juxtaposing Brenton’s smile. He didn’t know whether Brenton was talking about the possibility of him losing Rabastan at that moment or if he was referring to Walden losing Brenton. The possibility of both felt too complex for him to understand. Preparing for the worst if Brenton really was referring to the latter, he took  a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t think I’d ever lose you if I’m honest.”

Maybe he should, Walden thought. It was the bitterness resurfacing. He knows that Brenton’s relationship with Rabastan was flawed. But Walden still wishes that Rabastan was a lot more awful to Brenton because a part of him maybe wanted to punish Brenton for being someone else’s. Because, if they were so obviously wrong, maybe Brenton might finally realize he was right for someone else. 

It was his decision. Somehow, that makes it a lot worse.

“Fucking hell, Brenton I don’t know! Help me out here a least. Just answer the question.” Because asking Brenton how he feels about Walden was just too fucking hard. “You’re… my Brenton,” he finally managed. It made sense to him. But finally hearing it out loud, even Walden was at a loss how to explain himself further.

There was a chance Brenton had stopped breathing. He certainly stilled enough, eyes fixed on Walden like he couldn’t tear them away and his lips parted slightly in shock that those words had actually left Walden’s mouth. He found he wasn’t surprised to make the connection that Walden’s jealousy over Rabastan was tied to him feeling like he was losing Brenton. It settled within him like oh. of course. But for him to actually admit it? Something was shifting and Brenton didn’t know how to react.

He was his oldest friend. His first crush. The man who made him realise he found men attractive. Family, desire, home. But eloquence had left Brenton in the dust. It was easier to act, to clamber over so he was straddling Walden’s lap and pressing their lips together hungrily.

Fenrir wasn’t above starting fights and he certainly wasn’t above finishing them. But he did need to choose his fights as much as he hated to admit it. The last thing he needed was to be taken into any sort of custody. He was sitting on the curb, smoking, trying to figure out if he was going to go on his rounds tonight or if it was too close to the full moon to take that risk. His deliberation was interrupted by someone clearly looking to start something. He thought he recognized him, but couldn’t recall a name right away. “Yours isn’t much better.”

persephone was minding her own business for perhaps the first time in her life, her attention focused on the produce stand in front of her. “where are the lemons,” she muttered, eyes scanning over the selection before focusing on a mysterious pink fruit. and despite having absolutely no idea what it was, she picked it up, her eyebrows furrowing together as she turned it over and over. she was caught off-guard by the male’s question, but perhaps it was his way of offering to help her. “do you know what this is?” she asked, shoving the fruit into his face, “i can’t find any information on it.”