While Peyton much preferred living with Brynn to the alternative (either finding a place with his pyrotechnically-inclined friend, or having to give up and move back in with his family), he couldn’t help but get irritated when he went to get himself a cup of tea after finishing his shift shadowing his therapist and found that all the mugs had been used and Brynn hadn’t done any washing up. Again. It was a frequent occurrence for Peyton to just admit defeat and do all the washing up, but Brynn had yet to acknowledge it. They’d been living together for a few weeks, without many problems - partly because Peyton had read some of what was in Brynn’s file, and so he felt too intimidated to approach him with any criticisms. Brynn’s temper wasn’t exactly stable and Peyton was a bit too scared to ask him to do something which he might find displeasing. Peyton had found himself walking on eggshells around him, just to avoid pissing him off. Brynn, it seemed, had no such qualms. Realising he was well on the way to becoming a doormat who would be licking Brynn’s shoes within a few months if he continued the way he was going, he made a decision to chat to Brynn. He’d try and approach the topic gently, but if he didn’t deal with this soon, Peyton would blow his top eventually. Besides, therapists were all about discussing problems, so it would be good training for Peyton, right? “Hey, man,” he greeted Brynn as he wandered into the living room, inwardly wincing at the use of the word ‘man’: Peyton wasn’t that type of guy, unless he was nervous. “Do you think we could have a chat about chores and stuff? If that’s okay with you?” Way to stand your ground, he told himself sarcastically.
Brynn had expected to find it weird living with someone else, but it turned out he’d never really adjusted to living alone. They tended to end up eating at the same time since they worked similar hours, they watched TV together, but they didn’t really ‘hang out’. Peyton had also taken over most of the chores, which was nice because he hated doing things the Muggle way. It was like being back at Hogwarts with his dormmates, really; the only difference being that he didn’t have to share a room and he didn’t have any friends here. Peyton also had a life outside of work and Uni, though, which meant he went out at the weekends and some evenings, leaving Brynn to - well, he didn’t want to use the word ‘mope’. His therapist would probably have some thoughts on that, but so far they hadn’t made much headway. He hadn’t given her much more information since that first session, sticking to safer topics like work and how it was going living with Peyton. She’d explained that she was going to be focussing on talk therapy, which involved them developing a relationship of trust so he could open up and talk through everything, meaning she could help him process and suggest coping strategies. Considering he’d only trusted one person in the last decade, he had some concerns.
Peyton came in, interrupting his half-hearted watching of The Big Bang Theory, and Brynn frowned on hearing his request. This sounded like it’d be a barrel of laughs. He muted the TV. “Yeah, go on,” he said.
Peyton wasn’t surprised by the lukewarm response from Brynn, but he was slightly surprised that he wasn’t immediately hit with a ‘fuck off’ or something. Unfortunately, it meant he would now have to continue the conversation. He was pleased that Brynn had actually muted the TV; Peyton had been sure he would have to do that to make sure Brynn actually paid attention to him. Although he was a little surprised at the choice of TV show - Peyton had sort of thought that Brynn had better taste than the Big Bang Theory, of all things. He supposed he shouldn’t judge Brynn too much, considering Peyton loved Pretty Little Liars and Riverdale. “Uh, brill.” He sat on the couch at the opposite end to Brynn; he didn’t want to continue standing. “So, um, I feel like maybe we could have a schedule of some kind or some sort of agreement where we both do the chores equally? Because I seem to end up doing all the washing up and cleaning, so maybe if you could help that might be nice?” He managed to not add that he even had to do it on Sunday evenings when he’d spent the whole weekend at his family’s, which had happened last weekend: it was a bit much, doing the washing up when you hadn’t contributed to it at all.
Jesus, he must be coming across as a real asshole. Of course, he knew he was an asshole, but he wasn’t even a messy, untidy sort of person - one look in his room would demonstrate that. It was impossible to explain that he was used to cleaning up with magic and hadn’t adjusted to the Muggle way of things yet, especially since he’d never done them at home because he’d spent all his time in his room and his parents hadn’t even wanted to talk to him long enough to ask him to help out. He found himself feeling a little guilty for how Peyton had been doing everything, and the unfamiliar feeling put his hackles straight up. He barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes, but he knew the expression on his face would say it all anyway. It just seemed such a stupid and trivial thing, and a schedule sounded absolutely ridiculous. How many chores could there even be, anyway? When you just waved your wand and said a general cleaning charm, it was hard to keep track of what was actually happening. “Right,” he said, not liking the sound of either option presented so far, and then just stared at Peyton.
Peyton was slowly beginning to wish the ground would just swallow him up. The look on Brynn’s face was far from impressed and Peyton was almost convinced Brynn was about to punch him, especially with the way he was just staring at him. Maybe a chore schedule was optimistic - but if Brynn even washed up 5 things a day, Peyton would feel happier. “Maybe we could just, like, take it in turns, like if I cook then you can wash up?” He had been shocked to realise that Brynn didn’t cook for himself and must have survived entirely on ready meals before Pey had moved in. Pey, who liked cooking, had said Brynn could help himself to any leftovers but this was now turning into a frequent occurrence. Not that he entirely minded, but doing all the cooking, washing up and cleaning after an intense day on placement was starting to feel a little draining.
Brynn was a little amused by Peyton’s phrasing of “if I cook”. Brynn did not cook. Sometimes he walked in while Peyton was cooking, and Peyton looked like he really enjoyed cooking. Brynn did have to admit that Peyton’s cooking was much tastier than the ready meals he usually bought, and that he missed it when Peyton went home for the weekend. Doing the washing up seemed like an okay price to pay for good food, he supposed. “Yeah, sure,” he said, begrudgingly. He did do some jobs: the ones he could quickly do with a charm while Peyton wasn’t there. And he’d got dust-repelling charms on the furniture. He didn’t like mess; he’d been pretty good at cleaning before Peyton moved in, but he didn’t really have the energy for doing it the Muggle way. He didn’t have the energy for much, really. It was probably something he should talk to his therapist about.
“Great,” Peyton replied with a smile that was probably wider than the situation warranted. He had half been expecting Brynn to snap. It probably wasn’t great that Pey was a bit scared of his housemate - but hey, at least he wasn’t concerned that Brynn might accidentally set the place on fire. If the house did burn down, it would certainly be on purpose. At least the awkward bit of the conversation was over, so he took a seat. “I was gonna make spag bol tonight,” he said offhandedly, as something to talk about. He and Brynn didn’t chat. They only really talked when it was necessary, and Peyton wouldn’t mind actually getting to know the person he lived with. However Brynn was as likely to open up as a really defensive oyster.
Brynn nodded, glad that was over with. He was about to unmute the TV when Peyton sat down and spoke again. Was this going to be a thing, now? He used to like talking. Nowadays he barely spoke, even in therapy where he was supposed to talk. It was in the name. Talk therapy. “Great.” He did like pasta. He pretty much ate anything, as he’d told Peyton when he’d asked.
Peyton nodded in response, his brain searching for something else to talk about. He was a chatterbox at the best of times, and even more so when he was nervous or unsettled. “This is a good episode,” he said, gesturing at the TV after watching it silently play for a few moments. “Any episode where Sheldon and Penny interact is good, like the one where she falls over in the shower… you can use my Netflix account if you want, by the way. It’s logged in. I can set up a profile for you?” Brynn seemed to spend a lot of time staring blankly at the TV. Pey was never sure if he actually enjoyed what he was watching.
“Yeah,” Brynn said, and wondered when he’d lost the ability to produce anything other than monosyllabic responses. Peyton was trying, and he really should too. Otherwise Peyton might get scared and move out and then the food would go. “They’re good friends,” he agreed. “Oh… thanks. That would be nice.” It would involve having to actually choose a TV show, rather than just turning the TV on and watching whatever rubbish there was, but then he could probably keep up with the storylines better. Sometimes he missed a few episodes and they’d introduced a new character.
It was a relief when Brynn said something that was more than three syllables. This conversation had been feeling incredibly one-sided. And, hey, he'd even thanked Peyton - that might have been a first. "No problem," he replied with a small shrug. He wondered what kind of thing Brynn would watch. He most likely wouldn't like the kind of shit Pey was into; he kind of had the taste of a teenage girl.