He was tall—only an inch or two shorter than Jack’s six foot three—but his shoulders were hunched and his head hung low, like he was trying to disappear. His clothes were mismatched and worn—soft jeans, a faded green shirt, a peach and yellow sweater, and a red knit scarf—but every line of his body was frozen and hard.
Then he lifted his chin and glanced up at Jack for just an instant, and Jack couldn’t pay attention to anything but his eyes. A burning turquoise blue that shocked him because after years of drawing he’d always thought blue was a cool color. But not this blue. This was the blue of neon and molten glass and the inside of a planet. This was the blue of fire.
As quickly as he’d looked up, the man dropped his gaze again, and Jack immediately missed that blue.
“Uh, hey. You SimpleSimon?”
His head jerked up again and this time there was anger in his eyes.
“On the app, I mean? I’m Jack.”
Jack held out his hand and Simon inched forward slowly, then shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed his heel on the ground. He had messy dark hair that, from Jack’s view of the top of his head, was mostly swirls of cowlicks.
“You wanna come in and meet the pack?” Jack tried again, attempting to infuse geniality into his voice instead of the exhausted, pained, irritation he felt at every dimension of his current situation.
Simon tensed and scuffed his heel again.
“I won’t bite,” Jack said, shuffling backward to make room. “Can’t say the same for Pirate, though. She’s a little monster.”
Good. A dad joke. Great first impression, Matheson.
But Simon gave a jerky nod and followed him inside. When Jack reached to close the door behind him one of his crutches caught and slid to the ground. Jack swore and grabbed for it, avoiding wrenching his ribs at the last moment by deviating to grab the doorknob instead, knocking into the man’s shoulder in the process. Jack wanted to scream.
Simon immediately moved away and Jack had a moment of resentment until his crutch was retrieved from the floor and held up for him.
“Thanks. Damn things. Mind if we sit down?”
Jack dropped onto the couch with a groan but Simon didn’t sit. He hovered near the doorway to the kitchen and crossed his arms over his stomach.
Jack saw his nostrils twitch and begged the universe that Simon wouldn’t turn around and see the utter shambolic trough that was his kitchen floor.
They’d messaged last night to set up this meeting and their exchange had been perfectly friendly. All Jack could imagine was that his bad mood was so palpable that he’d put this guy off.
“So, uh. I’m Jack,” he tried again.
The man’s arms tightened around himself.
“Simon,” he said, voice low and very quiet.
When nothing else seemed forthcoming, Jack launched into introductions to the animals and watched Simon unfold.
When Jack gave the signal to allow Bernard to approach, the dog cuddled Simon so aggressively that Simon ended up sitting on the floor. Bernard licked his face and snuffled into his armpit and Simon huffed out a sound that might’ve been a laugh. Jack caught a flash of fire blue through his dark hair.
“This is Puddles,” Jack went on. “He’s a neurotic dude. Hates puddles. Seriously, you’ll have to pick him up and carry him over them.”
Simon held out his hand, head still bowed. Puddles placed his chin into Simon’s hand and then sat down right next to him, pressing himself against Simon’s hip.
“Hey, Puddles.” It was so soft Jack almost didn’t hear it. Puddles kept leaning into Simon.
“That’s Rat.” Jack pointed to the tiny dog whose hairless tail whipped across the floor. Rat jumped over to Simon, then bounded away after something only she saw. “And Dandelion.” The cheerful mutt wriggled happily when Simon pet her.
Simon was bookended by Bernard and Puddles, petting them both at once. His scarf had come loose and Pickles, who was one of Jack’s newer arrivals, made a beeline for it, batting at it until his claws tangled in the yarn.
“Shit, sorry. Pickles, no!”
Jack moved to stand, forgot about his leg, and groaned, falling back onto the couch.
“Fuuuck my life.”
Pirate slunk single-mindedly from her perch on top of the easy chair, making her way through the room to Simon.
He reached out a hand for her to smell and she gave him a dainty lick on the knuckle. Jack thought he saw a smile behind all that hair, but before he could warn Simon, Pirate pounced on his scarf, too, wrestling with Pickles over it and nearly garroting Simon in the process.
“Jesus, this place is a mad house,” Jack muttered.
A creaky laugh came from the man currently buried under animals on his floor.
Simon unwound his scarf and wrapped it around Pickles and Pirate, hugging the cats to his chest with one arm. Then he got to his knees and slowly stood, patting Bernard and Puddles with his other hand. Jack could hear Pickles and Pirate purring in their swaddle.
“You okay?” he asked Simon.
“Mhmm.”
“Okay, well... Still up for it? I know they’re a lot, but...”
Simon shook his head and Jack’s stomach lurched at the thought of finding someone else who could help. But then Simon said, softly, “It’s fine.”
“Yeah?”
Simon nodded, all shoulders and dark hair and flash of blue eyes and slash of pale jaw.
“Oh, great, amazing, wonderful.” Relief let loose a torrent of words, and Jack hauled himself off the couch to take Simon through whose leash was whose and where they could and couldn’t go, what Puddles was afraid of in addition to puddles (sticks shaped like lightning bolts, grasshoppers, bicycles, plastic bags), which dogs they might meet that Bernard would try to cuddle to death and Rat would try to attack, what intersection to avoid because there was a fire ant hill, and why never, ever to grab Pirate if she tried to climb trees.
Simon nodded and made soft listening sounds, and every once in a while he’d jerk his head up and meet Jack’s eyes for just a moment. When Jack passed the leashes, treats, and plastic bags over to him, Simon paused like he was going to say something. Then he put the treats and bags in his pocket, wrapped his unraveling scarf around his neck, and backed out of the door, head down and dogs in tow. Pirate leapt after them.
“Okay, then,” Jack called from the door as Simon walked away, not wanting the animals out of his sight. “You have my number if you need anything, right?”
Simon held up his phone in answer, but didn’t turn around.
“Okay, bye,” Jack said, but there was no one left to hear him.