Only If For a Night(MxM)

New Roommate

Whoever the hell named Zuko's apartment building 'Blue Bird Chateaus' needs to be roundhouse kicked down a flight of stairs.

Never before had Jet contained such strong feelings about the name of a complex that he didn't even live in. When he saw that the parking garage had full-time security guards, and you had to have some sort of identification to get into the complex, he realized that he was out of his element. Not many simple situations got him flustered and anxious, but having white wannabe cops stare at him as he walked by, making it painfully evident that they had guns. It made his spine prickle. They didn't see a military veteran; they saw a Mexican man in partial street clothes following a weak, unsuspecting rich kid,

Even the elevator was nice. There was no mystery puddle in the corner, no burnt-out cigarettes scattered on the cracked linoleum like his old apartment building had, hell, all the lightbulbs were lit up too.

Zuko never looked up from his phone and pressed the highest level possible, the twelfth floor.

A disgustingly cheery ding announced their arrival at the top floor, and Zuko shouldered his way out without a word. Polite beige walls greeted them, periwinkle carpeting and tasteful sconces led the way.

Jet was suddenly acutely aware of his scuffed up boots and a leather jacket that reeked of smoke.

Bored looking as ever, Zuko swiped a flat black card over the box by his door, and it beeped.

"No key?" Jet raised an eyebrow.

"Locks can be picked," Zuko shouldered open the door.

If they want in, they can break down the door. He thought to himself, closing the door behind him. It was a wide foyer with a bookshelf and cabinet that led the way to a large modern living room. Before he could take in any more surroundings, there were two dull thuds then the skittering of claws on the hardwood. Smellerbee and Longshot flocked to Zuko, sniffing and licking and whining, Longshot bouncing like a rubber ball, on his third jump, Zuko caught him, slinging him up on his shoulder like he would a child. Smellerbee had her stubby dog legs wrapped around Zuko's waist, trying to lick through his blazer when she saw Jet.

She had been rescued from a dogfighting ring that Jet's cop friend had split up. She was broken and marred, her ears clipped off, and most of her tail missing, but she still thrashed all the same when Jet gave her the very first belly rub of her life.

A low 'uff' erupted from her barrel chest, sending Longshot into a frenzy. He writhed, his squeaking yap echoing off the brick walls until Zuko had no choice but to put him down.

Smellerbee kept plastered to Zuko's side as she growled and grumbled, politely declining Zuko's reassurance that Jet was a friend.

It had been four years, but that was a good chunk of their lives that he had missed out on.

Slowly, he squatted down and offered the back of his hand to Longshot, who was groomed to perfection. Both of them were. They were plump and shiny, nails clipped, and happy looking.

Longshot vibrated with his non-threatening growl, suspiciously sniffing the outstretched hand, creeping closer until he got closer to Jet's face.

"Hey, big boy," he said gently, and before the dog could mentally process it, his tail was already wagging. He continued his inspection, his tail getting faster with every sniff.

With an excited yelp, he launched himself into Jet's chest, his boisterous noises attracting Smellerbee. Zuko watched on, smile caught on his mouth.

~0~

Jet decided he could spend the rest of his life like this. He was laying spread eagle on the plush carpet of the living room, a ninety-pound pitbull on top of him like a weighted blanket and a Yorkie stuffed under his chin like a malfunctioning airplane pillow. Zuko sat a few feet away, quietly sipping something out of a cup and reading a thick book that looked so boring. Jet couldn't even look at it.