Pet

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As a general rule, Charlie didn't knock. It was a nasty habit he'd picked up from too many years at Welton, made nastier by the fact that now, as an adult with adult friends, there was a possibility of him barging in on adult things.

"Great news!" Charlie announced, kicking down the door to Neil and Todd's studio apartment.

Todd frantically moved to pull his shirt back over his head while Neil scolded Charlie' for interrupting what would have been a very pleasant afternoon.

"God, Charlie, don't you ever knock?" Neil said, clambering off the bed.

"Oh relax, I checked to make sure no one was yelling 'daddy' before I walked in," Charlie teased, and placed a large cardboard box on the floor.

"What's in the box?" Todd said, curiosity putting his embarrassment on pause. 

"Clawdio!" Charlie declared. He tipped over the box and a small greyhound tumbled out.

Todd dove at it, making a sound not unlike a squealing twelve-year-old.

Neil yelped and jumped on a chair. "Why is there a dog in my home?" he said, like the two words had no business being together in a sentence.

"Isn't he precious?!" Todd said, scooping him up in his arms. 

"He needs a forever home," Charlie stated.

"Can we please be his forever home?" Todd begged.

"Charlie!" Neil yelled from his chair.

Neil, who otherwise loved animals, had an intense hatred of dogs. This hatred could probably be traced back to a night as a child when his father made him sleep in his neighbor's doghouse. The neighbor's dog, a grumpy Minpin by the name of Sassy, did not take too kindly to this, and the interaction resulted in a quick trip to the ER and four stitches in Neil's cheek.

"Alright, it's not my fault he was so adorable. I couldn't just leave him at the pound! I was halfway home before I even remembered my apartment doesn't allow pets. You, on the other hand..."

"We'll take him," Todd said cradling the puppy.

"We will do no such thing," Neil contradicted.

"Neil!" whined Charlie and Todd in unison.

"Just look at his lanky little arms," Todd said, holding the dog's arms. "He's like an uncooked spaghetti. And his name is Clawdio, like you!"

"Do not compare the soldier Claudio to that creature of filth."

Todd had hoped to appeal to Neil's theater kid side, the side that was playing Claudio in the upcoming production of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing.

It did not work.

"Look at him! He's just a little guy!" Todd held him out towards Neil, who eyed him precariously.

"I don't like the way he's looking at me," Neil said.

"Neil, believe me, you guys were the last resort," Charlie pitched. "Knox lives on the west coast, Cameron's allergic to dogs, and for some reason, Meeks and Pittsie are in Argentina. No one can take this little guy in, and if you can't then I have to bring him back to the pound."

Neil looked at Charlie, who looked genuinely tired out. He looked to Todd, who was still holding that scraggly rat in his direction. He looked at said scraggly rat, who, on second thought, was maybe kind of a little bit cute from the right angles.

"Greyhounds are also apparently the perfect apartment dogs..." Charlie encouraged.

"Oh, please Neil!" Todd begged. "I'll take care of him all by myself, I'll walk him and buy the food, you won't have to lift a finger!"

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