[Brennan is non-verbal, Tyr is not but knows ASL as well, which is how most of this conversation is relayed, so presume all dialogue is being signed in ASL unless otherwise stated, there are only a couple lines that Tyr says out loud. Tyr uses he/him pronouns and Brennan uses both he/him and they/them, primarily they/them in this blurb]
—
Tyr glowered at the mostly empty shelves in the refrigerator. A thimbles worth of milk, a quarter of an onion and whatever the hell was growing in the opaque container in the back of the bottom shelf would not a good meal make. For fucks sake, does no one in this house ever go shopping.
He slammed the fridge and nearly leaped out of his skin as he found Brennan standing behind the door, glaring down at him.
“Jesus fuck, mate, cough or something, you’re like a fucking wraith,” he huffed aloud as he pushed a pair of awry braids out of his face.
Brennan ignored him and started signing. They jabbed Tyr in the chest, brought their fingers to their mouth, slapped their own chest and then twisted their fingers over the opposite palm.
“You ate my cookies.”
“Innocent until proven guilty,” Tyr signed back, ending it with a two fingered salute.
“Real mature. Prick.” Brennan finished by throwing both middle fingers back at him.
“Why isn’t there any goddamn food in this house?”
“Maybe if you did some shopping every once in a while and didn’t eat everyone else’s food.”
“I did the shopping last week.” Tyr turned away, prepared to stomp out of the room. Brennan grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around.
“No, you did the shopping three weeks ago.” Tyr raised his hands to start signing in protest, but Brennan smacked them away, finishing their point. “Kaipo and I have been getting real sick of your shit and stopped stocking the kitchen because you keep eating everything.”
“Then what the hell have you two been eating?” Tyr couldn’t believe it. These little traitors.
“We’ve been eating OUR food, the stuff we bought with our own money!” Brennan was giving Tyr the worst stink eye he had ever received before throughout the whole conversation. “And somehow you got your hands on my last sleeve of cookies.”
“Again, innocent until proven guilty.” Tyr immediately regretted that when Brennan bodily picked him up and carried him under their arm to the hallway outside of Tyr’s room. They kicked the door open, hard enough it bounced off the wall behind it and yanked the garbage can out from under the desk, upending it in the middle of the room. Not just one, but three empty packets of Brennan’s favorite cookies tumbled onto the floor.
“Guilty.”
“You ungrateful asshole. I gave you a job. I let you live in this penthouse with me. I have been nothing but nice to you.”
“You STABBED me last night!” Brennan pointed at the bandage encircling their forearm where Tyrs knife had gouged a piece of skin out.
“There was a bug on you!”
“SO?!”
“Fine! I won’t do it again!” Tyr’s signing was getting bigger, his movements fast and aggressive.
“GOOD!” Brennan slapped their hand into their opposite palm with a loud clap and threw their hands in the air.
“DON’T YOU YELL AT ME!”
Both of them stopped and thought about what Tyr had just signed. A laugh like a cough ripped itself out of Brennan’s chest at the same time Tyr failed at withholding a snort. Within no time they were both laughing uproariously, their argument nearly forgotten.
“Wow. Did I really just sign that?” Tyr asked out loud, sliding his glasses up to rub at his eyes.
Brennan backhanded him in the chest to get his attention again and signed “But for real, you are the worst.”
“Go fuck yourself, Brennan.” Tyr said out loud,as he grabbed his keys off the desk and pushed Brennan backwards out of the room, shutting the door and heading to the garage.
—
Tyr returned an hour and a half later with two arms full of grocery bags and a six pack of vodka. The common areas of the penthouse were vacant, but he could see a glow from under Brennan’s door and a light on at the bottom of the steps to the Basement where Kaipo was likely in her den. He sighed as he unloaded the groceries into the fridge, not feeling like having any of the alcohol yet and shoving it in as well.
He closed the door and turned to the cabinet to grab a water glass and discovered all of the cups had been relocated. To the top shelf. Just out of his arms reach.
He sensed someone watching him and turned, realizing Brennan’s light had been switched off and the door cracked open a couple inches. He couldn’t see anything in the pitch blackness within the room, but he could sense Brennan standing there, watching what he would do.
Oh, that’s how it is, eh mate? He thought to himself. He turned to the counter, pulling the waist of his pants a little higher on his hips with a huff before clambering onto the granite countertop. Glass in hand, he hopped down and filled it from the fridge and then glared at the crack in Brennan’s door as he stomped past, heading to his room. He heard it click shut behind him.
“I can play petty too, mate.” He muttered as he kicked the garbage in the middle of the floor out of his way and pulled out the bag of itching powder he had stashed in the bottom drawer of his closet. He always had been a fan of pranks.