outside, on a bike whose engine had just finished rumbling, bo struggled with roman’s mother on the phone. ”i’m here! i just pulled up. will you give me a break?” on the other end, there was something about him having had a break for nine years. that was fair.

he’d talked it over with her. she wasn’t necessarily happy, but when was she ever?

a tiny rockruff poked out underneath his arm, from within his jacket. he ruffled the fur on its head and scooped it up, heading for the door. when he got there, he knocked. whenever the door opened, rockruff would be in plain view, smiling, tongue lolling. a cute bark, maybe. hopefully, it would make up for being late.

Roman Maher

There's a knock at the door that almost makes him jump. Roman stays rooted, eyes glued to the clock on the wall. Why was his heart beating so fast?

He frowns.

A few seconds later, Roman's at the door with his hand on the handle. Fingers shake, scared to open it but ultimately he does.

"Whateva you're sellin we ain't buyin." he'd heard it in a movie once. It felt -

Wait. Is that a puppy? A Rockruff.

"Woah, no fuckin way."

Emerald hues drift up to the man holding. A face that looks familiar but blurry.

"Dad?"

boruta maher

A smirk and a flash of teeth at his child’s humor would show his approval, but it faded a little after a moment.

Maybe his hair had gotten an inch too long, or maybe his facial hair was at a different stage than it had been at last time. Regardless, his son’s brief lack of recognition sent a pang through to his heart.

He would try harder.

Bo hadn’t been out of the Rockets long, at this point. A couple of months, maybe. He’d come to visit once, right after, and then… life happened. Transition. Sadness that ate at him, at the sudden lack of what family he’d had.

But, that wasn’t so true, was it? He had Roman. Roman Maher.

Did Roman have him?

Gold eyes looked down at his son, still smiling despite his pain.

“Hey, Ro.” Tall, he leaned down to hold out the small puppy. “You gonna let me and your new dog in, or leave us out on the porch? I know we’re late. Wouldn’t blame you.”

Roman Maher

His name sends his eyes back to the puppy. "Mine?" had mom known about this? If she had, he imagined she'd have told dad not to bring it.

"Bad behavior doesn't earn you rewards."

Roman frowns. Not because he's upset with his dad or unhappy about the puppy. Part of him just knows that she's right.

Whatever. Free gifts are free gifts. Fuck her for trying to keep them from him.

"I guess you can come in." he turns to walk inside with a coldness to him. It's forced, noticable that he's trying too hard not to be excited.

He plops back down on the couch. Fingers once again running along his bruises.

"Does mom know you brought the dog? Or is she gonna take it away from me?" wouldn't that be funny.

boruta maher

He didn't immediately mention Roman's injuries. Bo didn't want it to be the focus of their interaction. Roman's mother had explained to him that it just egged it on. "Talk about other things. Don't just lecture him."

Hence the dog. A dog offered things his words couldn't: something to trust.

Bo followed Ro inside with a smile, ever-amused and impressed by attitude, and tickled by seeing pieces of his own essence in front of him. His heart broke warmly.

"She's not gonna take it away, bud; she knows."

Bo sat on the other side of the couch and placed the puppy between them, close to Roman. He assessed his bruises briefly but his eyes didn't linger. They would find the topic in time.

"So. You gotta think of a name. I've been calling it Puppy."

Roman Maher

Dad joins him on the couch but Roman doesn't look. Stubbornness pushes him to focus anywhere but on the man and his....Roman's puppy.

The thought puts tiny cracks in his armor. Big enough to offer a sideways glance at the pup. It's cute, playful - looking at Roman with wide eyes and a panting tongue.

"She knows."

That's surprising. Maybe mom didn't hate him after all.

Maybe dad didn't either.

"What a lame name." finally, he turns to met the Rockruff's eye. There's something in him that says this all just an act. Begs him to be mean like he was to everyone else.

Then it touches his hand. A gentle nudge to seek affection.

More cracks.

Roman obliges, rubbing his hand against the top of its head.

"I'm gonna name him Po." two letters, just like his nickname.

Just like his dad.

boruta maher

“Yep.”

A smile; pure happiness, drew across his face. “Alright. Po, then.”

He reclined a bit, looking at him. So similar—even the bruises on his face. For a moment, he wondered if it was maybe genetic. Bo had never been violent around Roman, or Mom. Where did it come from? Seemingly, out of nowhere.

But Bo was smart enough to know that wans't it. It was his fault. Somehow.

He closed in too quickly, maybe.

“It’ll grow into a Lycanroc someday.”

“They’re strong. They don’t back down from anything.”

He looked at Roman pointedly.

“Thought it'd be a good fit.”

Roman Maher

"Po." he repeats, scratching behind the Rockruff's ear. Its tail is moving a million miles a minute, soaking up all the attention.

He looks up at his dad. Not sure how to feel about his words. On one hand, he wants to smile because in a way it's praise. Recognition of strength Ro had fostered to deal with a world that didn't want him. On the other hand, it's coming from a man who's rarely around.

The one who'd made him need it in the first place.

"Only cowards back down and run away. I'm not a coward."

He's trying to hurt with his words. Imply something he has no real idea about.

The pointed look on dad's face forces him to look down. Even though the words that accompany it aren't bad, Ro feels like they are.

His chest felt so heavy all of a sudden. A billion tons of pressure on his fragile frame. He pushes it back. Tough guys don't cry - his dad didn't cry.

Po senses the whelming sadness and crawls onto Ro's lap.

"How long are you going to be here?"

boruta maher

maybe he was the coward. bo gave the smallest chuckle under breath; self-deprecating, but proud. he tried to tell himself it wasn’t directed at him, but the mirror was uncanny.

he reclined further back against the armrest, eyeing his son. ”huh.”

before he could press the subject further towards the bruises on his face, it was all turned on him. bo’s eyes cut a little bit in confusion, trying to read which way the meaning leaned.

”however long you want me to stay—at least until your mom gets back.”

”why? you want me to leave already?”

Roman Maher

Roman frowns, "No, it's just..." there's a long pause as he struggles to think of the words. He doesn't know them. Just how it feels to be alone with no one around.

"I don't know." he sighs, "I'm hungry." emerald eyes drift to his dad.

"Do you know how to cook mac and cheese?"

boruta maher

He watched carefully as the boy tried to come up with an answer. In the end, Roman gave up, conflicted. The uncertainty was answer enough, though. He checked himself when he felt his lips droop a little in a frown.

The topic was shifted to food, he jumped on the opportunity to eat and lighten the mood.

“Pfff. Do I know how to make mac and cheese.”

He pushed up off the couch and shook his head as though in disbelief, taking steps towards the kitchen and gesturing for Ro to follow.

“Come on, Ro. The time has come for me to pass on my skills.”

Roman Maher

Seconds after his dad leaves the couch for the kitchen, Roman's close behind. The gesture isn't even needed. Po refused to stay still in his arms as they moved. There's a moment where Ro fights him as he struggles, but he gives up and sets the dog on the floor.

"The pots and pans are in the top cupboard." he says bitterly. "After I almost set the house on fire, mom started keeping them there."

Roman didn't understand why either. All he had to do was grab a chair to reach them. Grown-ups could be such idiots sometimes.

boruta maher

Bo went to reach for the cupboard, retrieving a colander and a pot. He set them on the counter, and then opened the fridge, nosing around, just to take inventory.

“Ah. What were you cooking? Anything good?”

The fridge door was shut by its corner again after he pushed up from leaning into it to peer. “Just checking to see what we have in the arsenal… we’re going the simple route. No problem. Simple is better sometimes.”

He went to the cupboards and began opening them one by one.

“Where does your mom hide the mac n cheese?”

Roman Maher