A Little Male Bonding (Perry, casual)

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter liked to think that he was a social guy. He went out, he met people; he went home with far more of them than he should have, and he spent a lot of time with people every day at the station. Still, despite all that, he was a pretty solitary guy. He could count the number of people who he’d invited back to his apartment on one hand because he liked his privacy. One was his neighbor, Jane, and then there was his partner, Gerry, and finally Uncle Don.

Well, almost. There was one person who had been over more times than he cared to count. Perry Goetzke was one of Peter’s oldest friends in the city, going on five years now. It didn’t sound like a long time, but for Peter, it felt like a lifetime. He could remember the day they met. Perry had been like a Greek god running along the water, and Peter...smelled like a bottle of whisky. He had been pretty drunk, one of the rare times he’d been drunk in his life, but he knew enough to have wanted the man. He was such a stupid kid back then. He’d pretty much stalked the man for a month before he’d finally broken down and talked to him. By that point, he felt like he knew the man, and after that they were friends.

Perry wasn’t the easiest guy to get to know, but then, neither was Peter. Somehow they found some common ground. One of those things was football. Every time there was a game on, they tried to get together just to kick back and enjoy the game. Since Perry had clearly seen Peter at his worst, he didn't seem to mind coming into the city to watch in his messy apartment.

That was how Peter found himself heating all sorts of frozen foods from the store because once Perry was done with the chips, cookies, and other assorted snacks, he’d want something more filling. The man ate like a horse.

Baze whined, sitting beside the stove, licking his chops. Peter couldn’t help but laugh. The dog ate like a horse, too.

“That is for our guest. If you behave, you might get some, too.”

The dog huffed, and Peter had to agree. He’d probably get his fair share of all of the goodies, so it was useless to tell him otherwise. Peter ruffled his fur, leaning back enough so he could glance at the clock. Perry was due any minute, kickoff was in ten. Dolphins vs Broncos. It was going to be an interesting game.

[PERRY "POSEIDON" GOETZKE]

Perry didn't have friends. That was simple enough to understand. People really didn't like him. It was either because he was too quiet or he was too tall or they didn't like the way he smelled - really, he had someone gruff to him about the way he smelled; salt and sweat wasn't a bad smell. His one friend from the military, William, didn't live in New York, so he was practically useless when it came down to the times that Perry actually wanted company.

He did have his stalker. It was probably five or six years ago. Perry was pretty fresh to New York and out of the military, so he was still very much in to his daily routine. Wake up, go run on the beach. He did that frequently, and for some reason, saw familiar faces day to day at that same time. A girl sitting on the beach right in his path, an older couple walking their dog, and one day, a very drunk kid. A very, very drunk kid. The kid decided that showing up every day, not drunk those times, would be the best choice. Perry noticed him, but didn't let him know that. It was creepy, really. He had a stalker. One that probably wanted to get in his pants. No. Not happening.

Finally, after a month of stalking, the kid appeared on his boat and demanded to be friends. Perry could deal with that.

Peter was too young to like some of the things that Perry did. They found common ground, though, through football. So whenever there was a big game or just a lazy Sunday and one of them was bored, they would meet up on Neptune, in a bar, or in Peter's apartment and watch the game.

Today, Perry's team with playing. The Dolphins. Most days Perry didn't care about what team was playing against who. But living in Georgia, he grew to like the Florida team. He didn't know why. Perry was fresh from his ranch, so he decided to bring up Cyrus, his eight year old mastiff, from the ranch to enjoy a week in the city.

Of course he called Peter beforehand to make sure Cyrus was welcome. At least, he thought he did. Perry led Cyrus up to the door of Peter's apartment and knocked a couple times.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

When there was finally a knock at the door, Baze went off like a car alarm, racing to the door, hackles up. Peter chuckled. After all this time, Perry still knocked. Well, he supposed it was fair. Every time Peter went to the boat, he always asked “Permission to come aboard, Cap’n!” in his cheesiest sailor voice. It amused him to no end, just like he assumed it did not amuse Perry.

“Coming! Baze, enough,” Peter chuckled, watching as the dog snuffled along the bottom of the door with his tail wagging excitedly. He could probably smell Perry. The man liked to smell like salt and sweat. Most of the time, Peter didn’t mind. Smelling manly just went with everything else Perry did.

He got a hand around Baze’s collar and tugged him back before opening the door. Of course Perry was standing there, good looking as always.

“Hey Perry,” Peter greeted, stepping back to let him in. “Perfect timing.”

It was then he noticed Cyrus. He hadn’t seen the dog in years. No wonder Baze was so excited. He let go of his collar, not surprised that he actually snubbed Cyrus to go and greet Perry enthusiastically. Baze loved Perry – something he picked up on from his owner. He had the feeling most animals loved the big guy, though.

“Hey Cyrus,” Peter greeted, crouching down and holding his hand out for the dog.

Like he said, he hadn’t seen the dog in years, and it was always best to be courteous to animals who might not appreciate being touched. The Mastiff, like Baze, probably had him outweighed by about twenty or thirty pounds. It was definitely better to be polite.

[PERRY "POSEIDON" GOETZKE]

As soon as the door opened, Cyrus, who was unleashed, bounded his way in to Peter's apartment. Peter crouched to greet him and Cyrus took that as an invitation to all but jump on him to sniff his face. Cyrus wasn't exactly the most well-behaved of all dogs, but he was certainly friendly. Baze, on the other hand, ignored Cyrus completely and came to greet him. Perry grinned a bit when the dog jumped on his leg. Of course the dogs would be the ones to say hello before the actual humans. He bent down with a little effort and picked up Baze with his free hand.

"Permission to come aboard, Cap'n?" he asked in his best imitation of Peter before walking in without waiting for an answer and pulling the door behind him.

The room was set up like usual - lots of food around, the TV was already on for the pre-game show, and there was probably still more food being prepared in the kitchen. Perry sort of ate his weight in food; at least Peter was prepared for it.

"Here. I stopped by the store." He jutted his hand that was holding a large brown paper bag out to Peter. "Got the dogs some things, extra food, beer." It was always good to be prepared.

Baze squirmed so Perry sat him back down on the floor.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter chuckled when Cyrus practically knocked him over, attempting to get right in his face. To avoid the inevitable, he fell back onto his butt and rubbed behind the big dog’s ears. He glanced over at where Perry pretty much had Baze picked up under one arm. Well, that was another way to do it.

"Permission to come aboard, Cap'n?"

Peter chuckled at Perry’s attempt to imitate him. Oh, he thought he was funny. At least he always closed the door behind him. Peter turned his attention back to Cyrus. It had literally been too long since he had seen the dog. Peter was a sucker for anything with four legs.

"Here. I stopped by the store. Got the dogs some things, extra food, beer."

“Thanks, man,” Peter beamed, taking the offered bag.

He managed to get to his feet without losing the bag, scratching Cyrus once more before he peeked into the bag. He had indeed brought things for the dogs, some more snacks, and beer. He could always count on Perry to bring beer. Peter didn’t keep alcohol in his apartment. He really wasn’t much of a drinker, so Perry had to bring it with him.

“I’ll go stick these beers in the fridge. Make yourself at home,” Peter called, hearing Baze follow him back into the kitchen. “The lasagna and other assorted frozen foods will be done by half-time, so feel free to eat anything on the coffee table there.”

He doubted all the snacks out right now would make it to half time, but he had plenty stocked up just in case.

[PERRY "POSEIDON" GOETZKE]

Perry nodded and worked on slipping out of his old black boots at the door so he wouldn't track around whatever was left of Clyde and New Jersey on them. Being at the ranch always insured that he brought a little back to the city with him on his boots. Dirt and rocks and mud and, well, he did have to shovel out the barn. They were his only boots, so he used them for everything.

"I'll be fine until then. Beers are for everyone; I know you don't really drink, but still."

Once he was out of the boots, he rubbed Cyrus on the head roughly, who turned and nudged his hand with his nose, then went to the couch. Taking a handful of chips, he flopped down and swung one leg over the other. The dog hopped up beside him and sat down right between him and the arm of the couch.

"If you have somethin' against Cyrus on the couch, tell me now." He fed the big dog a chip. "He'll get too comfortable and refuse to give up the seat."

He popped a few of the chips in his mouth, looking over his shoulder to see where Peter was.

"How've you been?"

It had been a while since they sat down and enjoyed a game. Things are known to change a bit with time.

--

OOC: Sorry, doll, for the delay. AP Exams just finished.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

He heard Perry’s boots shuffle and thump, clearly being toed off. Perry was good about taking his shoes off before wandering around the apartment. He appreciated it. His apartment was messy, but Guy had cleaned the place for him a few weeks ago and he was making an effort not to completely destroy his work, especially the floors. Who knew they were that color?

"I'll be fine until then. Beers are for everyone; I know you don't really drink, but still."

Peter nodded, pulling two out of the bag before putting the rest in the fridge. “Got it. There’s also a pitcher of juice in the fridge if you get thirsty for something else.”

"If you have somethin' against Cyrus on the couch, tell me now. He'll get too comfortable and refuse to give up the seat."

“Nah, he’s fine,” Peter called. “Baze is up on the furniture all the time.”

Which was too true. He sometimes ended up sleeping on the couch when the big dog decided he wanted the entire bed to himself. And when Baze wanted the couch, Peter often got stuck with the floor. He supposed he had no one to blame for that but himself.

"How've you been?"

Peter shrugged a bit, trying to think up a good answer to that. It had been a while since he had seen Perry, and he was surprised when the other man had called to see if he wanted to watch the game. He was a detective, and he was constantly meeting new people, doing new things, so there was always a lot to catch people up with, even when he saw them often.

“I can’t complain,” Peter replied, grinning as he made his way into the room, holding a beer out to his friend. “My life isn’t terribly exciting.”

Which was true. Despite his job and his friendly disposition, he didn’t end up really doing a whole lot. Now, Perry’s life was more exciting. He went places, whether he was on his boat or just down to Jersey so he could ride his horse. And he was not going to even think about the fact that his friend sometimes did some illegal transport. The point was that his life was much more interesting than the one Peter had carved out for himself in Brooklyn.

He watched as Baze jumped onto the couch on Perry’s other side, laying down so he was stretched from end to end. Peter shook his head, scratching Baze’s ears before sitting on the floor by Perry’s legs. He took a careful sip of his own beer before setting it on the coffee table, knowing he’d probably be working on it all night.

“How about you? I’ll bet you’ve had some adventures since I last saw you.”

OOC: Not to worry, babe! I hope you did well!