Chapter Text
«Estrella! Oh, slow down!» James whined as the golden retriever puppy pulled on the leash like she had somewhere very important to be, even though the street led to a dead end and this was probably the hundredth time they'd walked it just this week.
James had always wanted a dog, but his mom’s allergy had doomed him to the world of deeply unfun pets:
toe-biting turtles and fish that literally turned their backs on him (and absolutely could not be petted, lesson learned).
In college, he’d gone rogue and bought a bunny.
That had been a mistake.
Walls, bedposts, desk legs, clothes, rugs, shoes, everything had been chewed to hell.
Eventually, his poor roommate Remus had had enough and helped him drive Mr. Fluffball to a bunny-filled farm where he could happily gnaw to his heart’s content.
Far, far away from them.
That little red-eyed demon.
But now James had his own place, paid his own bills, and when he’d seen a flyer at the gym where he coached the hockey kids,
he just couldn’t resist. That golden little face had melted his heart in two seconds flat, and he’d made the call that same night.
Of course, he’d had no idea how much energy such a tiny creature could contain.
Luckily, the neighborhood, Ealing in London, was calm, quiet, and perfect for his current lifestyle.
And most importantly, no one looked at him funny for walking Estrella for the tenth time in one day.
Estrella, who still hadn’t figured out how to use the puppy pads or, you know, wait for the walk.
If this was what taking care of a puppy was like, he was seriously rethinking his future dreams of having a lot of kids.
How the hell was he supposed to take care of something that needed twice the attention?
«This is the wrong direction too!» James called, jogging a little to finally catch up to her and scoop her off the ground.
«Are you ever going to learn the way home?» he asked, amused, tilting his head, only to get a nip on the nose in response.
«Ouch. Privilege to walk: revoked, missy.»
James spun on his heels, ready to head back.
It was late September, and summer had officially ditched the city, leaving only traces behind.
The trees were still mostly green, but James swore he could already see hints of brown creeping in.
London’s sky was turning its usual grey that afternoon, threatening that familiar drizzle.
Thankfully, he wasn’t coaching hockey today, so there was no risk of getting soaked on his way to the gym, but that didn’t stop him from praying it wouldn’t rain.
Otherwise, tomorrow he’d be stuck watching Estrella roll around in the park’s mud for hours, and obviously,
he’d have to bathe her after. Again.
The path home, lined with stubborn trees still fighting off the cold, was simple and familiar.
He’d lived here for about five years, since finishing college, and had quickly learned to find his way around.
The people were kind, friendly, definitely warmer than his old neighborhood in Mexico.
He could list a dozen adorable anecdotes about his London neighbors, but couldn’t remember one from the eighteen years spent back home.
He was grateful to have gotten out, same for his parents, who were now enjoying retirement somewhere in the Scottish countryside. In a tiny town James could never remember the name of, but had written down on one of the countless colorful post-its stuck to his fridge, so he wouldn’t forget anything.
(Lie. Years later, he still forgot to check them. But he was committed to the system.)
He didn’t mind his new place, either.
A two-story brick townhouse where he’d crammed in all the essentials: a fireplace, a comfy bed, a ton of PlayStation games, and a kitchen that looked cute enough.
Sure, he was still dreaming of his perfect backyard, but that would take… well, several lifetimes of his coaching salary.
Not that he was complaining.
When his career had ended just two years after going pro, coaching kids had been the smartest move he could make.
Who knew? Maybe he’d train the next national, or even world, champion.
He’d even been offered a job with a pro youth team.
But hey, James preferred kids.
And that little rink in Ealing was perfect, no distractions, and during the off hours, the ice (however small and patched-up) was all his.
Messing around with stick and puck brought him back to the old days,
when that was all that mattered and the dream of the world championship hadn’t crashed and burned yet.
He sighed, shaking his head like that could chase the thoughts away,
and as he spotted his driveway just a few meters away, he leaned close to the puppy’s ear.
«Last chance, Estrella,» he whispered, setting her down and tightening the leash in his tanned fingers.
He had to speed up to keep up with her, thankfully, his old, trusty red Converse were still the most comfortable shoes ever.
A series of strong vibrations in his jeans pocket told him someone was calling.
Persistently.
He reached into his pants, pulled out his phone, but didn’t even get a chance to unlock it before a storm of barking and growling forced him to look up.
They were just one house away from his, and apparently, the only thing standing between them and some good food was a pile of huge boxes and, of all things, a closed pet carrier.
Which, for reasons beyond human understanding, had provoked Estrella’s full-blown fury.
Which, it turned out, was quite a lot of fury for such a tiny, squishy body.
«What the hell is going on?!»a voice came from the front door.
A short figure stepped out, forcing James to squint into the sunset glare until he could finally make out the details, and oh, what details.
Messy black curls couldn’t hide the deep frown carved into the guy’s forehead, and thin lips were pulled into a serious pout.
The slim figure bent to grab the green carrier, still waiting for an explanation James was scrambling to find.
He swallowed, trying to mentally rewind.
James had never seen grey eyes before. He honestly didn’t think they were real, just something writers made up in books.
But these grey eyes were very real.
And they were glaring at him like they wanted him dead, which made him straighten up quickly.
«Sorry! Estrella’s just a puppy, we’re working on her… spirited personality,» he said, scratching his neck.
The stranger raised one eyebrow. Not even close to impressed.
He was still clutching the carrier while Estrella kept jumping in the air, desperate to reach him.
«Well, work harder.»
«Come on, she’s doing her best.»
«Soleil’s never been trained, and he behaves better than your loud furball.»
«Soleil, huh?» James crouched slightly, peeking through the narrow bars of the carrier.
A pair of golden eyes glared back at him with even more hatred.
«Oh. I see. I see.»
«What?» the guy pulled the black cat closer, like he was shielding it.
«You’re team cats.»
«I’m not on any team.»
«Yeah, yeah, they all say that.»
James glanced at the boxes scattered on the sidewalk.
«You moving in here?»
«None of your business.»
James smirked.
This was going to be fun.
«Great. Well then, have a nice evening, neighbor,» he said with a cheeky wave, before opening the gate of the house right next door and stepping inside, finally freeing Estrella from her leash.