Were Yorkie fic :)
Title: Over Priced, Under Valued and Over Sexed
As soon as the door opened, Michael was greeted by yapping and the delicate clicking of fine-tipped claws racing across the hardwood floor before a small blond and gray bundle was at his feet, pawing for attention. Laughing, Michael made his way into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. "Hello, Abby-love. How's my little boy been? Missed daddy?"
Michael set two of his bags down, carrying the third into the living room with the little yorkie on his heels. He couldn't help grinning, knowing Abby could tell he was up to something but not quite sure what it was. "I've a surprise for you," he cooed, settling the bag on the couch and picking Abby up to stroke and pet. Ah, his puppy was one of his greatest joys, and he was always thrilled to know it didn't matter how long he was away or how often, because his little sweetpea was always there to cuddle him when he came home. After five years and more trips than Michael could clearly remember, Abby always greeted him as excitedly as he had as a puppy.
Abby let out a bark at the announcement, squirming in his arms as chocolate eyes excitedly peered at Michael and then the bag. Michael grinned again, petting him for a few moments longer before settling him on the ground. "Sit," he ordered, pleased as Abby promptly settled, though there was still the occasional tail-wiggle as the pup waited impatiently for the unveiling of his surprise. Turning to the bag he'd settled on the couch, a rather obnoxious white and pink affair his sister had given him, he peered into the small opening. "You're not allowed to be mad at me, Abby-boy, alright?" he said teasingly, keeping his voice soothing as he unzipped the carrier, then reached inside to unsnap the tether keeping the newest addition to his household safely ensconced in the warmth inside. "Remember how I told you Caroline had that lovely new boy at her house? Well, she's decided that she couldn't give him the attention he deserved and asked if I'd be willing to take care of him for her. She trusts me and all."
Abby tilted his head to the side, front paws dancing slightly in impatience but rear remaining firmly on the ground as he watched Michael pull out a sleek black chihuahua and settle him on his lap. Whining curiously, Abby stilled as he took in the dogs appearance--he was nearly all black, except for a small white tuft on the center of his chest, and his eyes looked blue. The chihuahua didn't make in noise, simply watching Abby calmly as Michael stroked his back. "Now, you boys play nice," Michael crooned, setting the larger dog on the floor. The chihuahua had to be almost twice the Abby's size, much larger than was popular. He settled on the floor, sitting politely as he watched Abby approach.
Abby, not one to be shy, pranced forward after just a moment and sniffed at the other dog, shifting from paw to paw before finally nuzzling his jaw and licking near his mouth. Michael watched, only a little anxious, as the chihuahua looked at Abby almost imperiously for a long moment before nuzzling and returning the favor.
Laughing, more relieved then he'd thought he'd be, Michael reached down to pet them both. With a smile, and maybe a little bit of a snicker, he said "Abby, meet Fitch. Fitch, this is Abercrombie."
* * *
After nearly a month, Michael was satisfied Fitch had settled into the large apartment well, got along with Abby, and had been introduced to the girls that came by to take care of everything for him and Abby, and now Fitch. Packing his bags, he explained to the boys that he was going on a trip to England and he'd be back soon, all the usual things that Abby was used to hearing but that Fitch had never heard. Neither seemed to be paying much attention, curled together on the chair in the corner of the room, Fitch's eyes watching Michael with a lazy curiosity.
Michael paused to look at them for a moment, then smiled and finished packing so he could leave in the morning.
* * *
Abercrombie stretched out on the bed slowly, happy to switch forms again. It was rare that he had to go a month without taking his human form, and he'd missed it. He was glad his stature didn't completely match his were-counterpart, but there were still similarities: his hair gray a steel gray at the roots, fading into a blond and just long enough to hang in his eyes and brush his neck and his eyes were a deep chocolaty brown with thick, curly lashes; he was slender, but not what one would term delicate, and he was tall, standing six foot four with skin that wasn't pale, but wasn't dark either.
Rolling out of the bed, Abercrombie stroked Fitch's back lightly, smiling softly at the feel of the short silky fur under his hand. "Hey pup," he murmured, heading into the bathroom for a long, hot soak. A bath as a dog was horrible, hands grabbing at you, pulling on your fur, getting soap in your eyes--but as a human, it was amazing.
Emerging some time later, Abercrombie was amused to see Fitch perched on the edge of the bed, watching him warily. "It's just me," he said, voice quiet as he padded to the dresser and pulled out one of Michaels softer pair of sleeping pants. He'd learned quickly that as long as he didn't go through all the laundry in the apartment, Michael never noticed he occasionally wore some of his clothes. After slipping them on, he meandered towards the bed, fingers reaching out to ghost near Fitch's flank, not quite petting. Fitch sat there, still as a statue as he watched Abercrombie, probably trying to sort out the new human smelling just like the dog he'd been living with for a month. But after a moment, he relaxed almost imperceptibly, tilting his head up to lightly lick at Abercrombie's thumb.
Smiling, Abercrombie gave him a proper petting, curling up on the bed with him and lightly dozing, slowly stroking Fitch's fur.
* * *
After three months, Abercrombie let go of the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, Michael had found another were. He knew Michael was good at finding oddities--haunted dishes, cursed curtains, and that haunted hula girl all attested to that. But he hadn't found Fitch, his sister had, so maybe that explained why....
Giving up on making excuses to soften his disappointment, Abercrombie went rolled out of the bed and went to the kitchen, making a little snack for himself and Fitch, then settling on the couch to watch TV. It had taken a little time to get used to the way Fitch followed him around so quietly, almost always in the same room, but Abercrombie enjoyed it now, knowing there would always be someone there with him whether Michael was around or not. Making himself comfortable, he ate slowly as they watched TV together, feeding bits and pieces of his sandwich to Fitch and murmuring about the movie they watched with hardly a second thought.
* * *
Arching slowly, Abercrombie made a soft, happy noise as hands stroked him slowly, petting firmly with the occasional catch of nails. After a long moment of luxuriating in the attention he realized something was... off. He didn't have fur. He was in human form, and someone was petting him. He frowned, distantly noting the petting paused, and opened his eyes.
Abercrombie was still stretched out on the floor where he'd fallen asleep, but now someone was stretched out with him. Surprised, but not terribly worried, Abercrombie stared up at a stranger. He was dark-skinned and sleekly muscled, eyes a dark blue and hair a silky black. The man's hands still rested on Abercrombie's side and stomach, but the man held perfectly still, face impassive as he gazed back at Abercrombie.
".... Hello."
"Hi," he said simply, voice deep and rather lovely sounding, Abercrombie thought.
"Who are you?" The corners of his lips twitched slightly, as he was relatively certain he already knew who the other man was. But no harm in making sure.
The dark=skinned man smiled slightly, watching him for a moment before leaning over Abercrombie, nuzzling at his cheek lightly before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he pulled back, there was a slight smirk there. "You know," he said.
Abercrombie laughed softly, ducking his head slightly. "Fitch?"
Fitch's smirk widened and he resumed his petting, rubbing one hand up and down Abercrombie's side. "Abby," he acknowledged.
Abercrombie made a disgusted face at that. "Abercrombie," he corrected.
Fitch laughed at that, deep and rich. "Abercrombie," he conceded. "Ab-"
Fitch cut himself off, finding after a brief whirl of motion he was now pinned with an unhappy looking Abercrombie straddling his hips. He blinked, but waited, not sure what the best approach would be here.
Abercrombie managed a slight glare. "Seven and a half months."
Fitch blinked, then smiled. "I-"
"I hate you."
Fitch didn't seemed bothered by Abercrombie's declaration, since Abercrombie was mostly pouting when he said, shoulders drooping slightly. Reaching up and gripping Abercrombie's shoulders, Fitch pushed him back and pinned him to the floor, reversing their positions so that he now straddled the were-yorkie's lap. "No you don't," he said smugly.
"Stupid rat."
Fitch snorted at this. "I'm twice your size."
"Right now, you're shorter than me," Abercrombie said, trying to hold back the smile teasing his lips. Fitch still caught it.
"I just... Had to wait." Fitch shrugged, not sure how to explain why he'd felt the need to hold back.
".... Are you still waiting?" Abercrombie asked, relaxing against the carpet, his fingers lightly rubbing against Fitch's hands holding his pinned.
Fitch smiled. "Maybe."
Abercrombie frowned playfully. "Why?"
"To torture you?"
Making a soft 'hmph' sound, Abercrombie tilted his head to one side, looking away from Fitch. "You don't have to wait on top of me, then."
Fitch grinned. "Yeah I do." But before Abercrombie could reply, he shifted his arms to slide them under Abercrombie's shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him up so Fitch could kiss him fast and hard and deep. Abercrombie started, but returned the kiss easily, sliding his arms around Fitch to pull him closer. As his hands stroked Fitch's back, he realized the other were was completely nude, not having bothered with pants like Abercrombie did.
Pulling away, Fitch grinned as Abercrombie's arms tightened to keep him close. "Have you ever had sex?" he asked, voice husky and eyes darkly swirling with lust.
Abercrombie shook his head, curiously tracing hands across Fitch's ass and thighs. "No. I've never... done anything."
Fitch grinned. "Good. Bedroom is better though." With a quick kiss, he managed to slip out of Abercrombie's arms and stood, then pulled him to his feet as well. Seemingly well pleased, he ushered the taller man to the bedroom, stroking and caressing the whole time and--at some point--actually removing Abercrombie's pants.
Much, much later, after both were well satisfied, Abercrombie knocked Fitch off the bed. He hadn't quite forgiven him for waiting seven and a half months, it seemed.
Fitch smirked, pinning Abercrombie down and looking forward to making it up to the man.
As soon as the door opened, Michael was greeted by yapping and the delicate clicking of fine-tipped claws racing across the hardwood floor before a small blond and gray bundle was at his feet, pawing for attention. Laughing, Michael made his way into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. "Hello, Abby-love. How's my little boy been? Missed daddy?"
Michael set two of his bags down, carrying the third into the living room with the little yorkie on his heels. He couldn't help grinning, knowing Abby could tell he was up to something but not quite sure what it was. "I've a surprise for you," he cooed, settling the bag on the couch and picking Abby up to stroke and pet. Ah, his puppy was one of his greatest joys, and he was always thrilled to know it didn't matter how long he was away or how often, because his little sweetpea was always there to cuddle him when he came home. After five years and more trips than Michael could clearly remember, Abby always greeted him as excitedly as he had as a puppy.
Abby let out a bark at the announcement, squirming in his arms as chocolate eyes excitedly peered at Michael and then the bag. Michael grinned again, petting him for a few moments longer before settling him on the ground. "Sit," he ordered, pleased as Abby promptly settled, though there was still the occasional tail-wiggle as the pup waited impatiently for the unveiling of his surprise. Turning to the bag he'd settled on the couch, a rather obnoxious white and pink affair his sister had given him, he peered into the small opening. "You're not allowed to be mad at me, Abby-boy, alright?" he said teasingly, keeping his voice soothing as he unzipped the carrier, then reached inside to unsnap the tether keeping the newest addition to his household safely ensconced in the warmth inside. "Remember how I told you Caroline had that lovely new boy at her house? Well, she's decided that she couldn't give him the attention he deserved and asked if I'd be willing to take care of him for her. She trusts me and all."
Abby tilted his head to the side, front paws dancing slightly in impatience but rear remaining firmly on the ground as he watched Michael pull out a sleek black chihuahua and settle him on his lap. Whining curiously, Abby stilled as he took in the dogs appearance--he was nearly all black, except for a small white tuft on the center of his chest, and his eyes looked blue. The chihuahua didn't make in noise, simply watching Abby calmly as Michael stroked his back. "Now, you boys play nice," Michael crooned, setting the larger dog on the floor. The chihuahua had to be almost twice the Abby's size, much larger than was popular. He settled on the floor, sitting politely as he watched Abby approach.
Abby, not one to be shy, pranced forward after just a moment and sniffed at the other dog, shifting from paw to paw before finally nuzzling his jaw and licking near his mouth. Michael watched, only a little anxious, as the chihuahua looked at Abby almost imperiously for a long moment before nuzzling and returning the favor.
Laughing, more relieved then he'd thought he'd be, Michael reached down to pet them both. With a smile, and maybe a little bit of a snicker, he said "Abby, meet Fitch. Fitch, this is Abercrombie."
* * *
After nearly a month, Michael was satisfied Fitch had settled into the large apartment well, got along with Abby, and had been introduced to the girls that came by to take care of everything for him and Abby, and now Fitch. Packing his bags, he explained to the boys that he was going on a trip to England and he'd be back soon, all the usual things that Abby was used to hearing but that Fitch had never heard. Neither seemed to be paying much attention, curled together on the chair in the corner of the room, Fitch's eyes watching Michael with a lazy curiosity.
Michael paused to look at them for a moment, then smiled and finished packing so he could leave in the morning.
* * *
Abercrombie stretched out on the bed slowly, happy to switch forms again. It was rare that he had to go a month without taking his human form, and he'd missed it. He was glad his stature didn't completely match his were-counterpart, but there were still similarities: his hair gray a steel gray at the roots, fading into a blond and just long enough to hang in his eyes and brush his neck and his eyes were a deep chocolaty brown with thick, curly lashes; he was slender, but not what one would term delicate, and he was tall, standing six foot four with skin that wasn't pale, but wasn't dark either.
Rolling out of the bed, Abercrombie stroked Fitch's back lightly, smiling softly at the feel of the short silky fur under his hand. "Hey pup," he murmured, heading into the bathroom for a long, hot soak. A bath as a dog was horrible, hands grabbing at you, pulling on your fur, getting soap in your eyes--but as a human, it was amazing.
Emerging some time later, Abercrombie was amused to see Fitch perched on the edge of the bed, watching him warily. "It's just me," he said, voice quiet as he padded to the dresser and pulled out one of Michaels softer pair of sleeping pants. He'd learned quickly that as long as he didn't go through all the laundry in the apartment, Michael never noticed he occasionally wore some of his clothes. After slipping them on, he meandered towards the bed, fingers reaching out to ghost near Fitch's flank, not quite petting. Fitch sat there, still as a statue as he watched Abercrombie, probably trying to sort out the new human smelling just like the dog he'd been living with for a month. But after a moment, he relaxed almost imperceptibly, tilting his head up to lightly lick at Abercrombie's thumb.
Smiling, Abercrombie gave him a proper petting, curling up on the bed with him and lightly dozing, slowly stroking Fitch's fur.
* * *
After three months, Abercrombie let go of the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, Michael had found another were. He knew Michael was good at finding oddities--haunted dishes, cursed curtains, and that haunted hula girl all attested to that. But he hadn't found Fitch, his sister had, so maybe that explained why....
Giving up on making excuses to soften his disappointment, Abercrombie went rolled out of the bed and went to the kitchen, making a little snack for himself and Fitch, then settling on the couch to watch TV. It had taken a little time to get used to the way Fitch followed him around so quietly, almost always in the same room, but Abercrombie enjoyed it now, knowing there would always be someone there with him whether Michael was around or not. Making himself comfortable, he ate slowly as they watched TV together, feeding bits and pieces of his sandwich to Fitch and murmuring about the movie they watched with hardly a second thought.
* * *
Arching slowly, Abercrombie made a soft, happy noise as hands stroked him slowly, petting firmly with the occasional catch of nails. After a long moment of luxuriating in the attention he realized something was... off. He didn't have fur. He was in human form, and someone was petting him. He frowned, distantly noting the petting paused, and opened his eyes.
Abercrombie was still stretched out on the floor where he'd fallen asleep, but now someone was stretched out with him. Surprised, but not terribly worried, Abercrombie stared up at a stranger. He was dark-skinned and sleekly muscled, eyes a dark blue and hair a silky black. The man's hands still rested on Abercrombie's side and stomach, but the man held perfectly still, face impassive as he gazed back at Abercrombie.
".... Hello."
"Hi," he said simply, voice deep and rather lovely sounding, Abercrombie thought.
"Who are you?" The corners of his lips twitched slightly, as he was relatively certain he already knew who the other man was. But no harm in making sure.
The dark=skinned man smiled slightly, watching him for a moment before leaning over Abercrombie, nuzzling at his cheek lightly before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he pulled back, there was a slight smirk there. "You know," he said.
Abercrombie laughed softly, ducking his head slightly. "Fitch?"
Fitch's smirk widened and he resumed his petting, rubbing one hand up and down Abercrombie's side. "Abby," he acknowledged.
Abercrombie made a disgusted face at that. "Abercrombie," he corrected.
Fitch laughed at that, deep and rich. "Abercrombie," he conceded. "Ab-"
Fitch cut himself off, finding after a brief whirl of motion he was now pinned with an unhappy looking Abercrombie straddling his hips. He blinked, but waited, not sure what the best approach would be here.
Abercrombie managed a slight glare. "Seven and a half months."
Fitch blinked, then smiled. "I-"
"I hate you."
Fitch didn't seemed bothered by Abercrombie's declaration, since Abercrombie was mostly pouting when he said, shoulders drooping slightly. Reaching up and gripping Abercrombie's shoulders, Fitch pushed him back and pinned him to the floor, reversing their positions so that he now straddled the were-yorkie's lap. "No you don't," he said smugly.
"Stupid rat."
Fitch snorted at this. "I'm twice your size."
"Right now, you're shorter than me," Abercrombie said, trying to hold back the smile teasing his lips. Fitch still caught it.
"I just... Had to wait." Fitch shrugged, not sure how to explain why he'd felt the need to hold back.
".... Are you still waiting?" Abercrombie asked, relaxing against the carpet, his fingers lightly rubbing against Fitch's hands holding his pinned.
Fitch smiled. "Maybe."
Abercrombie frowned playfully. "Why?"
"To torture you?"
Making a soft 'hmph' sound, Abercrombie tilted his head to one side, looking away from Fitch. "You don't have to wait on top of me, then."
Fitch grinned. "Yeah I do." But before Abercrombie could reply, he shifted his arms to slide them under Abercrombie's shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him up so Fitch could kiss him fast and hard and deep. Abercrombie started, but returned the kiss easily, sliding his arms around Fitch to pull him closer. As his hands stroked Fitch's back, he realized the other were was completely nude, not having bothered with pants like Abercrombie did.
Pulling away, Fitch grinned as Abercrombie's arms tightened to keep him close. "Have you ever had sex?" he asked, voice husky and eyes darkly swirling with lust.
Abercrombie shook his head, curiously tracing hands across Fitch's ass and thighs. "No. I've never... done anything."
Fitch grinned. "Good. Bedroom is better though." With a quick kiss, he managed to slip out of Abercrombie's arms and stood, then pulled him to his feet as well. Seemingly well pleased, he ushered the taller man to the bedroom, stroking and caressing the whole time and--at some point--actually removing Abercrombie's pants.
Much, much later, after both were well satisfied, Abercrombie knocked Fitch off the bed. He hadn't quite forgiven him for waiting seven and a half months, it seemed.
Fitch smirked, pinning Abercrombie down and looking forward to making it up to the man.