Gavin is, for once, resting.

It's interrupted when a knock on the door sets his dogs to barking; the blue-furred werewolf draped across his legs merely lifts its head and pulls back its teeth in a silent snarl, but its less-trained pack mates throw a fit as they scramble over one another toward the door.

The doorbell chimes, redundant.

Who the fuck?

He's not expecting guests. Half-expecting solicitors, he almost ignores it before his phone lights up with a notification from his doorbell camera. Right, he'd forgotten about that. He picks it up, checks it—

—and does a double-take, squinting as if that might make THEO BECKETT disappear from view. Another second and he's shoving the Lycanroc off the bed and getting up, tucking his feet into a pair of slippers at the foot of it.

"Just a sec!"

His deep voice carries easily in the open space.

The dogs are snuffling insistently at the door when he approaches it. A sharp whistle and a snap of his fingers drives away the older Lycanroc, and he nudges the Rockruff away with his foot before opening the door.

"Hey, Beckett, come in — don't mind the dogs, they're not used to the door..."

There's a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach that has nothing to do with Declan Walsh or Rocket and everything to do with the fact that it's Beckett. Why was he here? What was he holding?

One thing at a time.

"Didn't know you were planning to come by; what's up?"

He closes the door behind him and slides the deadbolt in place before turning to regard the admin with curious amber eyes.

[attr="class","beck"]he contemplates leaving when the dogs start barking. he even turns away, but the voice that sounds from behind the door stops him from taking a step. he tenses, hesitates for a moment, then turns back around just in time for the door to swing open.

"you look comfortable, merlino."

he enters, slipping through the door only to be met with an enthusiastic rockruff. it barks once, twice, then dashes forward before reaching up to paw at his leg. he ignores it for now and looks at merlino.

"just checking up on you. how do you feel?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

"Took the day off work," he admits; it's a technicality, really. He's on-call for whatever Rocket needs at any time, regardless of his personal endeavours, but he'd kept his schedule clear of appointments and entrusted his team with the workload. "Still available if you need anything, 'course."

But Beckett, as it turned out, wasn't there for business.

Checking on me?

It's touching in a way he doesn't know how to parse.

"Oh. I'm — well, been better, but I've also been a lot worse." An awkward laugh. He'd not opened his mouth with the intention of being so honest. "Better than I was, though."

There's brief, unspoken gratitude in the look he gives Beckett before he glances away as if to survey his own space. He fixates on the kitchen. Alcremie, recognizing Theo, squeals from her favourite place on the kitchen island.

"You want anything to drink? Smoke?"

[attr="class","beck"]"good."

better is all he needs to hear. somewhat relieved, he finally extends a hand down to scratch at rockruff's fluffy neck, but soon rises back up to lift the brown bag in a gesture.

"drink would be good. i also brought food."

suddenly tense, his eyes land on the alcremie, a lifeline, and he approaches it. he extends a hand out once he nears, taking the offered mint. the only form of gratitude he expresses is a nod as he plops the mint into his mouth.

"i wasn't sure what you liked."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Rockruff seems delighted by the attention, leaning into Theo's hand. The midnight Lycanroc whom Theo had met during their recent walk through the city stands next to its master, clearly well-trained, its red eyes gleaming as it watches their guest.

At the mention of food, Gavin realizes he is hungry; he'd not thought to eat.

"What kind? I'm not too picky, honestly."

Alcremie beams at Theo when he accepts the mint, and Gavin smiles at her when she offers him one in turn. This time, it's popped into his mouth immediately and trapped against his cheek as he steps around the fairy-type to access the kitchen.

A bottle of alcohol is retrieved without question or thought, placed on the island after Gavin fills two glasses.

[attr="class","beck"]"steak fried rice. there's a restaurant known for it here, apparently."

two blocks down, actually. he remembered it from their walk the other day.

he places the brown bag on the counter and pulls out an eco-friendly container. it's still warm as he sets it down along with the appropriate utensils. he slides it over, then steps away for his drink.

"thanks."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

"Works for me."

His mouth waters at the smell when Theo pulls it out of the bag. It wasn't uncommon for him to skip meals due to overworking himself or simply losing track of time.

He dips his head in silent acceptance of Theo's thanks.

He tucks in eagerly, taking a sip of his drink before clearing his throat.

"How's work? Anyone giving you trouble?"

Theo was a relatively new transfer to Hoenn, and Gavin wonders if his rapid rise through the ranks had been cause for contention.

[attr="class","beck"]"not particularly."

he peers down at the whiskey and notes how merlino had known his preferred choice of drink. he raises it, sips.

"a few have sought me out to train them. wrynn's one."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

"Did he?"

Gavin doesn't bother to hide the note of surprise in his tone. He raises his glass in return, takes another sip before it clunks against the counter.

"I suggested he should, but he seemed reluctant at the time."

Mass murderer. An accusation that weighed heavy on the conscience should he allow himself to think on it for too long. He brushes it away, instead, focuses on the familiarity of detachment from his crimes.

"Glad he came around, though. Found out we're related." He scoffs, an almost-laugh. "Half brothers, fancy that."

[attr="class","beck"]"half brothers?"

the revelation escapes so nonchalantly that he avoids being blindsided. he simply tilts his head and nods as something tempts him to speak. surprisingly, it comes out easier than he had thought.

"i slept with saoirse."

his hand steadies against the island.

"just thought you should know."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Where Theo avoids being blindsided, his own news hits with the force of an avalanche.

"What?"

There's a brief chuckle, a nervous reflex before he turns his amber gaze. It settles with the gravity of his expression that Beckett is being entirely serious.

"I — right, fuck, okay, that's..."

Saoirse. He'd called her by her name. Gavin's not sure how to process what he's feeling beyond overwhelmed. And—

"Before or after you slept with me?" His tone is forcibly calm. "Did you know?"

[attr="class","beck"]"i didn't."

calmness reflects in his, too. his gaze holds elsewhere, anywhere other than on him.

"before."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

A hint of miasma trailing from his fingertips dissipates without further incident as Gavin processes the words, eyes closed and breathing steady.

"Okay."

It shouldn't matter at all, he tells himself. They'd all but agreed that while there were no regrets, nothing further would come of their impulse. Gavin had written it off as a hard rebound, all but convinced himself it was nothing more, but the jealousy he'd felt at Theo's admission was not the sort of emotion one attributed to nothing.

His heart still aches whenever he's reminded of Emma; he's not over her. Would he ever be? But there's more to how he feels for Beckett than a craving for contact.

"Fuck." He scrubs a hand over his face. "Why tell me?"

He sounds uncertain, rather than upset.