terry boot + rolf scamander
a first meeting
g | complete
Every other day, in an effort to make sure he didn’t stay shut away inside forever, Terry walked away from whatever he was working on -- whether it was designs for a building or plans for his next cake -- and he left his flat. It was something he’d come up with after a session with his therapist: he had a tendency to get lost in whatever he was doing, using it as an excuse to not feel whatever he was feeling or not think about it. He never did much else besides a leisurely stroll, sometimes not more than fifteen minutes if his leg was acting up, but it helped clear his head.
That was the important thing: it helped.
He paused outside of the animal shelter. His walks had taken him past the shelter every other day for the past two weeks. He was itching to go inside, but every time he stopped, looked, and talked himself out of it. He did the same that day: he stared at the window, tapping a rhythm out on his thigh, antsy. He’d look just a little bit longer, he decided, and then he’d go.
The gossip column - Rolf had insisted - didn’t mean much to him. After all, he was a magizoologist who spent enough time with journalists that he understood what those columns were about. He claimed that he couldn’t believe his mopey face would even rate any inches but … here they were. And he spent a lot of time outdoors and indoors smiling brightly despite the growing unease within himself.
Was he really sad? It didn’t bear thinking on; he had work to do. But one of his favourite ways to get out of his own head was to volunteer his time. And one of the best places to do it? The animal shelter. He had just stood, holding a squirming kitten against his cheek, to present the window to it. There, he laughed as the curling tail of a squirrel caught its attention and it zeroed in on its little target. It was the first time he felt like laughing in days.
Had Terry realised someone was going to pop up on the other side of the window, he wouldn’t have chosen to stand there, but as it was, he didn’t have any warning. His eyes went wide when he spotted the man and the kitten, feeling a bit like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done.
The kitten’s curiosity and excitement brought a slow smile to his face as he tried to brush past the embarrassment. Wasn’t that what he came here for, after all? (The expression on the other man’s face certainly didn’t hurt. He was cute. Really cute.)
As the squirrel drifted away (completely oblivious to the apex predator - in its own eyes - on the other side of the glass) the kitten afforded Rolf a rub to the chin and his gaze fixed out beyond to the young man on the street. The entirely, ridiculously, jaw-droppingly fit man.
Well, the kitten needed a home. He tried to catch the man’s gaze to motion him inside.
For a second, Terry didn’t grasp what the man was trying to say, and then, head tipped to the side a little, he gestured to himself to confirm his suspicions. No one else was around, so it had to mean… him, right?
He took in a deep breath and then stepped up to open the door to the shelter. “Sorry about the staring,” he said, offering a sheepish smile to the man with the kitten. “Didn’t realise anyone would see me.”
“ … hey, hullo.” The kitten, having plied its affection and now curious about the door rattling and the new scent with the new person in the room, squirmed in Rolf’s grip again. He let the creature down with a fond laugh and it marched toward Terry with its tail curved. He stood back up, offering his hand.
“It seemed like you just needed an invitation. Rolf Scamander.”
“Terry,” he reached out to shake Rolf’s hand, “Terry Boot. Hi.”
With the introduction done, Terry pulled his gaze away from the incredibly cute man (Rolf!) to give the kitten what it was demanding. He bent down and held out a hand for the kitten to sniff, and was rewarded with a full-body rub from the kitten. “Do you work here? Or are you just visiting, too?” he asked Rolf, looking up briefly.
Rolf grinned. He always trusted an animal to sniff out the good ones. He, of course, relied on his eyes too. “I volunteer here,” he said and knelt next to the pair, running his palm over the kitten’s arching back. “I worry about all these little ones. I want them to have homes. I don’t care if they're a kneazle or a cat. They all deserve someone to love them.”
So Rolf wasn’t just cute, he was compassionate, too? Did he have a flaw somewhere? Maybe he was straight, Terry thought.
“They’re lucky to have someone like you in their corner,” he told Rolf. If it came across as a little flirtatious — well, Terry still meant it. “Anyone would be lucky to have that.”
Rolf stared at the floor for a moment, his cheeks turning a muted shade of rose beneath the stubble that dusted his jaw. He looked up then, catching Terry’s gaze with a crooked smile. “Anyone would. I agree.” The kitten hooked Terry’s shoelace with a paw and began to tack it voraciously.
“Like this one here.”
“Ah, is this one spoken for already, then?” Terry asked, lightly teasing. “Or am I the target today?”
The kitten bit down on Terry’s shoelace and shook its ‘prey’ viciously. “I think it’s reasonable to assume you’re the target,” he laughed.
“Looks like it. I’ll take your word for it, anyway. I don’t know much about cats.” If this was what it meant when people said they were chosen by a cat, Terry didn’t know if he’d be able to walk away. “How old is… he? She?”
“She … she. Yes.” Rolf stood as the cat flopped on Terry’s shoe. Here, he had a better vantage point through which to view what he could only describe as the most precious sight he’d ever seen. Hot guy … adorable cat. “She’s about nine weeks old. Very precocious. You can pick her up if you want to."
“She’s beautiful,” Terry answered, reaching out to give the kitten a scratch on her chin. He petted her gently, feeling the rumble of her purr under his fingertips, and when he thought she was comfortable enough (when he was comfortable), he scooped her up and stood. She squirmed a little in his grasp, looking for the most comfortable position, and settled with her front paws against his chest, her head tucked up under his chin.
When he looked at Rolf again, he was trying to hold back the grin on his face. “This is how they get ya, isn’t it?”
Rolf’s face split into a smile. “Get this … she’s not likely to do that with strangers. She generally splits at the first sign of activity.” He leaned in to stroke the kitten’s back, clearly fond of her … and the match. “She’s clearly got a thing for you.”
Terry eyed Rolf skeptically, eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re just saying that so you get your hooks in me,” he insisted. His lips twitched with a hint of a smile. Rolf was even cuter up close, so much so that it was hard to think clearly. “You could say anything and I wouldn’t know any better.”
“Hey. I am honest … but if I was trying to get my hooks in you, just look at that face.” His eyes traveled up the lean length from the kitten’s satisfied rumble to Terry. He swallowed. “ … I mean, the kitten’s face. You can’t say no.”
Terry felt his cheeks start to burn. “I am looking,” he answered, though he wasn’t looking at the kitten at all. He held his gaze for a moment longer - long enough that his intent was clear, he hoped - but then looked down at the kitten. She did seem content. Happy, even.
“Maybe there’s a reason I always walk by,” Terry added. “Why I’m drawn here instead of somewhere else.”
Rolf felt himself drawn closer to Terry (to Terry, who looked too good and too soft and too sweet to be real) and found himself holding his breath. He sucked in a lung full of air and grinned.
“Fate can be like that.”
“Yeah. It can be.” Terry’s heart was hammering in his chest, and he knew he sounded a little breathless. He could make complicated desserts in a short amount of time without getting too frazzled, but put him in front of a cute man and suddenly he was flustered? It was embarrassing.
His hand kept on stroking the kitten’s back. The longer they stood there, the more difficult it would be to walk away. But maybe he wasn’t supposed to walk away. Maybe he was supposed to take the kitten home.
Terry swallowed and, nervously, met Rolf’s gaze again. “So if I wanted to, um. Take her home. Could you walk me through that? Dunno if she’s gonna let me go."
“Those hooks are pretty deep,” Rolf agreed, shocked that he could speak without stuttering as he continued to stare at Terry. So many failed relationships. So many moments of … just this close, but no further. Could he trust himself? At that moment, however, reality took hold. He blinked. Terry was about to be a cat-dad. Perhaps for the first time? He switched gears and motioned further into the shelter.
“There’s a lady with a clipboard. You fill it out and give them five galleons. We’ll give you some supplies and a few coupons to the pet store so you can get that queen her own kind of thing.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “You’re new to this. I can stop over some time and help? I can check you o …” he gulped. “I can check on her.”
He must have looked a little shell-shocked, Terry thought as he spotted the woman Rolf pointed out, for Rolf to offer to check in, but maybe he was. It had all escalated very quickly, after all. He hadn’t even meant to come inside -- he wouldn’t have if Rolf hadn’t gestured to him.
But it felt right, the way the kitten had nuzzled into his neck. As overwhelming as the entire prospect was, he felt a sense of peace, too.
“Do you make that offer to everyone who adopts a pet or are we just lucky?” Terry asked, lightly teasing. “I think we’d like that, though. Make sure we’re settling in okay.” As if she knew someone was talking about her, the kitten lifted her head and meowed. Terry laughed. “See? She agrees.”
One of the rescue employees (a slight, older woman with a shock of curly purple hair) walked by and leaned in toward Terry. “You’re just that lucky,” she whispered confidingly. “Come see me at the counter when you’re ready to take your beauty home.” Sheila winked and kept walking, leaving the boys with the fabulously contented kitten. Rolf, for his own purposes, looked bashfully at his shifting feet and grinned crookedly.
“That’s Sheila. She will take good care of you.”
“I’m sure she will.”
Terry didn’t take any steps towards the counter, though, but not because he was having second thoughts. He just didn’t want to say goodbye to Rolf yet. It was more than a little disarming that someone had left such a strong impact on him in their wake, and it made Terry feel like his skin was tingling.
He could be bold, he told himself. “Let me give you my number,” Terry said, “so you can call me or text me when you want to come over.”
Rolf’s cheeks pinked up for quite possibly the nineteenth time during this interaction. He took a shallow breath and grinned, stepping forward to hand Terry his phone. “I’ll hold your new little girl if she’ll let me … or I can enter it. Or maybe you can do both? I don’t know. But yes. Your phone number. Yes.” Instead of babbling on, he cut himself off and just shrugged.
Terry laughed. “If the prospect is too overwhelming, I can keep it to myself…” He was already shifting his grip on the kitten, though, trying to figure out what to do with her while he added his number to Rolf’s phone. She grumbled her dissatisfaction at being moved and dug into his shoulder with her claws as she pulled herself out of his arms. Frozen in place, eyes wide, Terry waited to see what she might do. He didn’t want to grab her if she was feeling squirrely.
After a moment, she found her footing, perched on his shoulder.
He took the phone from Rolf very slowly, careful to not jostle the kitten much, and added his name and number. He paused and then pulled up the camera to take a photo of himself to add to the contact page. “In case you forget what I look like,” he explained as he handed the phone back.
If Rolf didn’t have stars in his eyes before, he did now. Between adroitly managing the kitten and gifting him a selfie, he shook his head. “I don’t think that will be a problem.” Oh no. Terry’s angular face seemed burned into his retinas; a handsome, sensitive, interesting man. He had to know more. But he also knew that Terry had to take care of his business and settle his new kitten.
He took another picture of the two together. “I’ll text it to you,” he said and with that, turned to walk further into the shelter. He needed time to process, to text his brother, to talk to the girls in the back, and most of all … to breathe.
Terry quietly watched Rolf go, feeling pained by Rolf’s absence like he’d known the other man for longer than just a few minutes. He’d never felt that kind of distress before, and he didn’t know what to do with it. He wanted to tell Rolf to stay. He wanted to ask Rolf to help him fill out the paperwork and pick out the right things to buy.
Instead, he just watched.
After what was probably an improper amount of time to be staring, Terry turned away and glanced up at the kitten on his shoulders. He thought about finding Sheila, but he knew he should probably spend a little more time with the kitten before finalising everything. “Guess it’s just you and me now, doll. You wanna come home with me?” He scooped her off his shoulders and found a quiet spot to sit down on the floor with her. “It’s a good thing I came by this way,” he told the kitten, “otherwise I never would have met you.” Or him.