10. Hap (Drabble 28)
Title: Hap
Author: fansee
Drabble: 28 by IJ's hounded
Notes: A post-513 AU. Heartfelt thank yous to the writer of the drabble and to my beta, chering.
Justin walked out of his apartment building and looked around.
The streets were radiating heat through the soles of his shoes. The air shimmered in waves over the asphalt. Within half a minute of leaving his air-conditioned apartment he was sweating.
He started walking towards the subway, trying to think about Brian's visit to New York next weekend instead of the fifty sweaty people he'd be sharing his ride to his studio with.
He turned the corner and stopped. Huddled against the base of a building in a rapidly dwindling sliver of shade was a skinny, dirty, panting brown dog.
Justin stepped a little closer and squatted next to the poor mutt. He held out his fist, and the dog sniffed his knuckles, its tail thumping on the sidewalk.
“Poor guy. Where’s your owner? Who tossed you out on the street to fend for yourself?” The dog looked up at him, its big, brown eyes hopeful.
Justin stood up and said, “Wait here. I’ll be right back,” and he started around the corner to Jack’s luncheonette. Behind him he heard the scrabble of claws on the pavement as the dog followed him. Up off the ground, the dog’s thinness was even more striking. Every bump of his spine showed, and where his ribs ended, his flanks were hollow. When Justin opened the door to the luncheonette, the dog whined but sat where he was on the hot sidewalk.
Justin went into the air conditioned coolness and waited at the counter until Maria noticed him. “Can I have some water?”
“Sure.”
“Not in a glass.” Justin gestured to the dog, panting on the sidewalk, its shoulders slumping toward the cement. “Can you fill one of those Styrofoam bowls you use for the soup?”
Maria smiled and handed him the container, a little water slopping over the side. He took it outside and put it in front of the dog who immediately began lapping it dry.
The dog drained the container three times. He looked up at Justin earnestly, seeming to signal that he would appreciate a fourth bowl.
“You stink,” Justin said, “and I’m sure you’re hungry, too.” He turned and started tentatively back across the street, toward his apartment building. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the dog had no intention of letting him get away, so he moved more briskly.
If Brandi caught him trying to smuggle an animal into his apartment, she’d have a fit, even if the animal were an adorable, cuddly little kitten, which this dog was certainly not. He scrunched his face, thinking. Pretty sure this is one of the days that Brandi volunteers at the Met, he thought and, as always when he thought of Brandi, Weird name for someone on Social Security.
The building was small - a total of sixteen apartments on three floors - so there was no lobby, no security, just a foyer with doors at either end, then a hall, with a miniscule elevator at the far end. Justin looked apprehensively at the first apartment on the left, but Brandi did not appear to screech at Justin and banish the dog to the hot sidewalk.
As usual, Justin chose the stairs, and the dog followed him, his nails scrabbling on the steps. Once he closed the door to his small, third floor efficiency, Justin let his breath out in a long sigh. “Good dog,” he said.
The dog stretched out flat on his belly, sniffing. He gave a sort of a whimper.
“Not impressed with the apartment, huh? You’re in good company. Brian doesn’t think much of this place, either, but it’s nicer than anywhere else I could afford. Could barely afford,” he added ruefully.
The dog stood up and started prowling around the small room. Justin said, “Come on…. I need to call you something besides ‘good dog.’ You need a name, fellow.”
He looked the dog over critically. There was nothing outstanding about him. He was a medium-sized, brown dog with big brown eyes and ears that were standing up again as he explored the room. “You are a very ordinary pooch, you know, but happy as all fuck, considering how you’ve been treated.” Justin started for the bathroom. “Let’s get you washed, Happy.”
Apparently the dog had encountered bathrooms and baths before, because when Justin opened the door, the dog sat down abruptly and looked apprehensive. Justin bent over, wrapped his arms around the dog’s mid-section, and dumped him in the bathroom, slamming the door shut quickly before Happy could complete his break for freedom.
Half an hour later, Justin was stripped down to his soaking wet briefs, and Happy was next to the tub, shaking himself vigorously, his nails rattling on the floor and water spraying indiscriminately. A doggy smile split his face.
“I’ll be right back,” Justin said. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Happy panted in response. “O.K. then.” Justin pulled the door open wide enough to allow himself to slip through, while Happy whined and looked persecuted. When he came back, his arms were loaded with newspapers, two cereal bowls, two cans of chicken, and a can opener.
The newspaper went to cover the floor, the two cans of chicken went in one cereal bowl, and the other cereal bowl got filled with water. Justin said, “I’m leaving you in here while I do some shopping. You need a leash and a collar and some food. You were just damn lucky I had that chicken in the house. I think my mom bought it when she visited me, because I don’t fucking remember ever buying canned chicken.”
Happy wagged his tail in acknowledgement. He was licking the already-empty bowl vigorously enough to push it through the newspapers, rumpling them as it went. Justin let himself out of the bathroom carefully and went outside into the blast furnace.
Happy was asleep when he got back, worn out by good fortune. Justin put a scoop full of dry food in his bowl and sat down on the toilet while the dog ate. “I can’t keep you here - Brandi will never stand for it. You and I are going to take a taxi to my studio - you are getting expensive, you know - it’s in an old warehouse and no one there will care. I’m there for a couple of hours almost every day, and I promise to walk you mornings and evenings besides.” Although maybe one of the other tenants will agree to walk you occasionally, he thought but didn’t say aloud.
He opened the door to his miniscule living/dining/bedroom, and Happy bounded out of the bathroom. He headed across the small room and leaped on the unmade sofa/bed. He started sniffing the Justin-smell enthusiastically. Remembering last night’s telephone sex with Brian, Justin was sure there was lots to smell. He sat down on the side of the bed, grabbed Happy by the scruff of the neck, and pulled him onto the floor, clasping the squirming dog between his legs. After he had wrestled Happy into his collar and snapped on the leash, he grabbed the shopping bag from Best Pets and let them both out the door.
Justin looked around his studio. It was a single room on the third floor of an old warehouse that had been converted into rental spaces. Tenants were expected to make any upgrades they needed. Justin hadn’t needed many. The space’s attraction for him had been the huge windows that ran almost from floor to 15’ ceilings - that and the almost-affordable rent. His easel and the chest of drawers where he kept his supplies stood in front of the windows, with his new piece standing ready to be worked on. He gave it a quick glance, then turned his attention back to Happy.
He unsnapped the dog’s leash, and Happy started touring the space, sniffing. He seemed particularly interested in the baseboards and corners of the room. Justin had always suspected the presence of mice and, perhaps, rats, and the intensity of Happy’s interest reinforced his suspicion. He opened the windows and turned on his fan; the room’s amenities did not include either heating or air conditioning. “I think you’ll be alright here,” he said to the dog. “I’ll put down papers in case you can’t make it until I can walk you again. I’m going down the hall now to fill your water bowl, but I’ll be right back.” Happy seemed more interested in one particular corner of the room than in Justin’s announcement, but he did respond with a single thump of his tail.
When Justin got back with Happy’s bowl of water, he filled a second bowl with dry food. “There you go, Hap,” he said. He sat down on one of the two chairs he had scrounged from the trash. They must have once been part of a set of dining room chairs; he sat in his usual one, the one without arms. He pulled up his T-shirt and wiped the sweat off his forehead, then scrubbed down his face. He opened his water bottle and took a long swig.
“I wonder what Brian will think of you,” he said to the hungry dog. “I’m pretty sure…I’m certain…Brian’s not an animal lover. I’m thinking maybe you’ll be my little secret, at least for now, until I decide whether or not I can keep you.” Happy looked over his shoulder, alarmed at the change in Justin’s voice, then went back to finishing off his food.
“I always wanted a dog,” Justin said, his voice wistful, “but I don’t know if this is going to work out. Probably I should be finding you a good home instead of even thinking about keeping you. I don’t know if I can get over here often enough to take care of you like I should. And what the fuck happens when I go back to the Pitts for the holidays and am gone for a week? So fucking complicated.”
Justin sighed and Happy came over and pushed on Justin’s hand with his nose. Justin scratched behind his ear and said, “Don’t worry. Something will work out. I’ll make sure of it.” Happy smiled and panted harder.
Justin stood up and looked first at his painting, then at his watch. He had to be at The Steak Out to start his shift in two hours. That meant if he worked on the painting for an hour, he’d still have time to walk Hap before he left for work.
Justin poured himself a cup of coffee, and said, “Fill you up, Brian?”
Brian grunted, which Justin interpreted as a negative. He lowered himself to the couch cautiously. He was sore. He’d had an athletic night, last night, followed by more athleticism this afternoon. He had twinges in all those places that hadn’t gotten much exercise recently: the backs of his legs, the insides of his thighs, and of course his asshole. I hurt good, he thought and smiled.
He looked down at Brian, sprawled out along the length of the couch. He had put his feet on Justin’s lap…those long, flexible feet…his head was cushioned on his bent arm, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be falling asleep. Old man needs his rest, Justin thought, and smiled. I wouldn’t mind leaning my head back and shutting my eyes for an hour or so, but…poor Happy. I’ve gotta get moving. This is the perfect time, if I can just get out from under Brian without waking him the fuck up.
He’d snuck out on a sleeping Brian this morning, leaving a note behind: “Remember I told you I have to check on a friend this morning. I’m going to see Hap now, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He’d told Brian the night before that he was “helping Hap out,” but he was pretty sure Brian hadn’t processed that since Brian’s response had been to stick his tongue down Justin’s throat.
Sure enough, just as he was getting ready to leave his studio, Brian had called him, sleep still clogging his voice, and asked where the fuck he was and when the fuck he’d be back, because Brian had fucking plans for his ass. That had hurried Justin’s exit from the studio. As he jogged toward the stairs, behind him he could hear Happy whining and scrabbling at the door. He’d almost turned back. He’d walked Hap and fed him, but this was the first day he hadn’t spent any additional time in the studio. Usually he put in at least an hour or two, working, and it was no trouble at all to take five minutes out here and there, to throw a tennis ball up against a wall for Hap to retrieve. Another walk and Hap was ready for a restorative nap by the time he left.
Not this morning, however, and Justin was discovering just how guilty a neglected dog could make him feel. He was picturing Hap pressed against the door, his whines now mere moans. He looked at the clock. It was almost four, and Hap had been alone since a little after 9:00 a.m. He had to get going.
He looked down at Brian’s feet, lying across his lap, relaxed but solid. He slid his arm under Brian’s ankles and raised his feet enough so that he thought he could just about slip under them if he pressed his hip into the arm of the couch. He started moving, his eyes on Brian’s face. Brian’s lashes quivered but his eyes didn’t open. Justin raised Brian’s legs a fraction higher and moved forward. Brian mumbled, “What the fuck…?”
Justin ignored him and kept moving, slowly. Inevitably, he jostled Brian’s legs as he tried to stand up. Brian said, “What’s the problem?”
“I’ll be right back.”
“’Kay.” Brian shut his eyes again.
Justin grabbed his pants, T-shirt and shoes, and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself quietly.
When he came out, Brian was sitting up, his hair tousled but his expression annoyingly awake. “Where are you going?”
“I have to check in with Hap. I won’t be gone long.”
“I’ll go with you. I want to meet this Hap person.”
“I don’t know. Why not stay here, where it’s air conditioned?”
“Where are we going?” Brian was snapping his jeans and reaching for his shirt.
“Over near my studio.”
“We can take a taxi.” He looked around the room dismissively. “I’d rather meet your Hap than spend the hour in this shoe box, squinting at your fucking T.V. I don’t understand why the hell you don’t let me get you somewhere more comfortable to live. I’m tired of roughing it.”
“We’ve been over this a thousand times. I don’t want to discuss it again. Anyway, it’s not that bad.” Justin watched Brian shove his bare feet into his loafers. “Ready?”
“It’s that fucking bad, trust me.” He followed Justin through the door.
The taxi ride was mostly silent. At one point, Brian said, “You sure you have to check on this Hap?”
Justin took his hand. “I’m sure. He can’t manage by himself.”
“Or he wants a piece of your sweet ass.” Brian yawned.
“I’m not fucking him.”
“You know I don’t care, anyway.” Brian turned his hand under Justin’s and tightened his grip.
“I know.” And they both were silent.
Brian paid off the taxi when they got to the warehouse, and they both got out into the hot, dirty, humid air. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait in the Starbucks, Brian? It’s a block and a half from here, and it’s not only air conditioned, it’s refrigerated. You’ll be a lot more comfortable there, reading the paper, than in my studio.”
“In your studio?”
Fuck. “Um…well…he’s sort of staying there for now, until I can figure something else out.”
Brian narrowed his eyes. “You figure something else out? I gotta meet this guy. He sounds like a total loser.”
“What the hell. Come on.”
As soon as they opened the door from the stairs and turned into the corridor, Happy yelped a welcome. Justin stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Brian. He walked a little faster down the hallway, then - when Hap followed up his yelp with a whine - walked even faster until he was almost running. Brian, with his long legs, kept pace with him easily.
Justin got the door unlocked with a minimum of difficulty and was greeted enthusiastically. For a moment Happy fairly danced in place, then he made a lunge for Justin. Justin grabbed his front paws and pushed him down. “No,” he said. “Down, down.” He looked apologetically at Brian. “I’m trying to teach him not to jump on people.”
Brian arched an eyebrow. “Where the hell did you get the mutt? And how long have you had him?”
“I found him across the street from my building. That was on Monday. He was starving, Brian. Somebody abandoned him. I couldn’t leave him like that, and I couldn’t keep him in my apartment. Brandi would throw us both out. So….”
“So you didn’t do the smart thing and take him to the SPCA?”
“I couldn’t. He’d get put down. People only want puppies.” Justin looked at the dog’s big water bowl. “Listen, I need to refill his water bowl. I’ll be right back,” and he fled down the hall. Brian thinks I’m crazy, and maybe I am. Maybe I should start looking for someone to give Happy to. I could ask around at work or post something on a bulletin board at school. I need to be sensible. He set his jaw and started back.
Brian had turned the fan on and was sitting in the chair that Justin thought of as Brian’s: the one with arms. Happy was sitting at his knee and Brian was scratching his head. Brian looked up and said, “Jesus, it’s hot in here. You need air conditioning.”
Justin forced himself to stop staring at the unexpected sight of Brian petting a dog. “I need air conditioning and I need heating in the winter, but I’m making do with a fan in the summer and an electric heater in the winter. The first thing I’m getting is a work sink in here so I can clean up after myself instead of using the restroom. None of the other tenants on this floor have complained yet, but my mess must be getting on their nerves.”
He pulled out one of the drawers in the same bureau in which he stored his art supplies and took out a bag of dog kibble. He measured out a couple of cups of food and poured them into the metal bowl. The dog pounced while the kibble was still rattling musically as Justin poured. Justin looked at him worriedly. “I hope I’m feeding him the right amount,” he said. “I haven’t taken him to the vet’s yet,” he explained.
Brian walked over to where Happy was wolfing down his kibble greedily. “He might have something the fuck wrong with him,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.” Justin wrinkled his brow. “I had already arranged to have last night and tonight off before I got him, and those are when I get the best tips. I figure that I’ll make an appointment with the vet after next weekend.”
Happy had finished off his kibble and was now looking hopefully at the drawer where Justin kept it. “Want to go walkies?” he crooned. “Happy wanna go walkies?”
Brian made a gagging sound. “Walkies?”
Justin looked abashed. “Yeah. Well, you might want to wait here for us. It’s even hotter outside, and there’s not much fucking shade along the river here.”
Brian shrugged. “What the hell? We’re both going to need a shower anyway.” He raised his arm and sniffed. “Yeah, definitely shower time.” He followed Justin and Happy out the door.
Justin put his feet up on the coffee table, next to Brian’s. He was working on a bowl of Cap’n Crunch cereal, dangerously full of milk, and watching the weather channel. “It’s going to cool off a little tomorrow, but the temperature is still going to be in the 90s. It won’t be so humid, though, so that’s good.”
Brian grunted. He was looking at the Real Estate section of the Sunday New York Times.
Justin shrugged and started flipping through the channels, finally finding one showing an episode of the Simpsons. He put his empty bowl down on the floor next to him and settled down to watch. I love this, he thought. Nothing special’s happening. It’s Sunday morning. I’m watching T.V., Brian’s reading his paper, but we’re together. That’s just so right.
Later, Brian lowered his paper with a rustle. “You can’t tell from the ads whether a condo accepts pets. Some of them do, I’m sure.” He reached out one long arm and snagged his briefcase.
Justin thought how much smaller his small apartment was when Brian was there. “What are you doing?”
“Writing down a couple of names and phone numbers of real estate agents.”
“Real estate agents?” Justin’s voice rose on the last word. “Why?”
“I’m looking for a condo that takes dogs.”
“Dogs?”
“You know…woof, woof. Dogs. Like Happy. You can’t keep Happy in that fucking studio long term. It’s not right.”
“Not right?”
“Justin, are you O.K.? You keep repeating everything I say.”
Justin blinked. He was. “I’m confused.”
“That’s apparent. I’ll explain, using small words and speaking slowly, O.K.?” He leaned over and wrapped his hand around the back of Justin’s head, urging him forward. Justin complied eagerly. “I’m going to buy a condo for us, one that takes dogs.” Brian licked along Justin’s lips, then across his jawbone to the sensitive skin below his ear. “You and Happy will move in.” He nuzzled Justin’s neck. Justin moaned and moved closer. “I will stay with you when I’m in New York. Got it?” His other hand was exploring below the waistband of Justin’s briefs.
Through a haze of lust, Justin zeroed in on two words. “For us?”
Brian gave a low sound that might have been a chuckle, might have been a groan. “You know, if you were living in something larger than my mother’s closet, I might be here more often and stay longer.” He was tugging Justin’s briefs down.
Justin arched up off the couch. “Even with a dog in the apartment?”
“I’d rather not have my hot piece of ass disappearing twice a day to feed his anim….”
The end of the last word was lost as Brian’s mouth slid down the length of Justin’s cock. Justin ran his hand through Brian’s hair. “I get it,” he gasped. “Oh my God, I get it.” His smile was so radiant that the temperature in the room went up two degrees, but neither he nor Brian noticed.
Author: fansee
Drabble: 28 by IJ's hounded
Notes: A post-513 AU. Heartfelt thank yous to the writer of the drabble and to my beta, chering.
Justin walked out of his apartment building and looked around.
The streets were radiating heat through the soles of his shoes. The air shimmered in waves over the asphalt. Within half a minute of leaving his air-conditioned apartment he was sweating.
He started walking towards the subway, trying to think about Brian's visit to New York next weekend instead of the fifty sweaty people he'd be sharing his ride to his studio with.
He turned the corner and stopped. Huddled against the base of a building in a rapidly dwindling sliver of shade was a skinny, dirty, panting brown dog.
Justin stepped a little closer and squatted next to the poor mutt. He held out his fist, and the dog sniffed his knuckles, its tail thumping on the sidewalk.
“Poor guy. Where’s your owner? Who tossed you out on the street to fend for yourself?” The dog looked up at him, its big, brown eyes hopeful.
Justin stood up and said, “Wait here. I’ll be right back,” and he started around the corner to Jack’s luncheonette. Behind him he heard the scrabble of claws on the pavement as the dog followed him. Up off the ground, the dog’s thinness was even more striking. Every bump of his spine showed, and where his ribs ended, his flanks were hollow. When Justin opened the door to the luncheonette, the dog whined but sat where he was on the hot sidewalk.
Justin went into the air conditioned coolness and waited at the counter until Maria noticed him. “Can I have some water?”
“Sure.”
“Not in a glass.” Justin gestured to the dog, panting on the sidewalk, its shoulders slumping toward the cement. “Can you fill one of those Styrofoam bowls you use for the soup?”
Maria smiled and handed him the container, a little water slopping over the side. He took it outside and put it in front of the dog who immediately began lapping it dry.
The dog drained the container three times. He looked up at Justin earnestly, seeming to signal that he would appreciate a fourth bowl.
“You stink,” Justin said, “and I’m sure you’re hungry, too.” He turned and started tentatively back across the street, toward his apartment building. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the dog had no intention of letting him get away, so he moved more briskly.
If Brandi caught him trying to smuggle an animal into his apartment, she’d have a fit, even if the animal were an adorable, cuddly little kitten, which this dog was certainly not. He scrunched his face, thinking. Pretty sure this is one of the days that Brandi volunteers at the Met, he thought and, as always when he thought of Brandi, Weird name for someone on Social Security.
The building was small - a total of sixteen apartments on three floors - so there was no lobby, no security, just a foyer with doors at either end, then a hall, with a miniscule elevator at the far end. Justin looked apprehensively at the first apartment on the left, but Brandi did not appear to screech at Justin and banish the dog to the hot sidewalk.
As usual, Justin chose the stairs, and the dog followed him, his nails scrabbling on the steps. Once he closed the door to his small, third floor efficiency, Justin let his breath out in a long sigh. “Good dog,” he said.
The dog stretched out flat on his belly, sniffing. He gave a sort of a whimper.
“Not impressed with the apartment, huh? You’re in good company. Brian doesn’t think much of this place, either, but it’s nicer than anywhere else I could afford. Could barely afford,” he added ruefully.
The dog stood up and started prowling around the small room. Justin said, “Come on…. I need to call you something besides ‘good dog.’ You need a name, fellow.”
He looked the dog over critically. There was nothing outstanding about him. He was a medium-sized, brown dog with big brown eyes and ears that were standing up again as he explored the room. “You are a very ordinary pooch, you know, but happy as all fuck, considering how you’ve been treated.” Justin started for the bathroom. “Let’s get you washed, Happy.”
Apparently the dog had encountered bathrooms and baths before, because when Justin opened the door, the dog sat down abruptly and looked apprehensive. Justin bent over, wrapped his arms around the dog’s mid-section, and dumped him in the bathroom, slamming the door shut quickly before Happy could complete his break for freedom.
Half an hour later, Justin was stripped down to his soaking wet briefs, and Happy was next to the tub, shaking himself vigorously, his nails rattling on the floor and water spraying indiscriminately. A doggy smile split his face.
“I’ll be right back,” Justin said. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Happy panted in response. “O.K. then.” Justin pulled the door open wide enough to allow himself to slip through, while Happy whined and looked persecuted. When he came back, his arms were loaded with newspapers, two cereal bowls, two cans of chicken, and a can opener.
The newspaper went to cover the floor, the two cans of chicken went in one cereal bowl, and the other cereal bowl got filled with water. Justin said, “I’m leaving you in here while I do some shopping. You need a leash and a collar and some food. You were just damn lucky I had that chicken in the house. I think my mom bought it when she visited me, because I don’t fucking remember ever buying canned chicken.”
Happy wagged his tail in acknowledgement. He was licking the already-empty bowl vigorously enough to push it through the newspapers, rumpling them as it went. Justin let himself out of the bathroom carefully and went outside into the blast furnace.
Happy was asleep when he got back, worn out by good fortune. Justin put a scoop full of dry food in his bowl and sat down on the toilet while the dog ate. “I can’t keep you here - Brandi will never stand for it. You and I are going to take a taxi to my studio - you are getting expensive, you know - it’s in an old warehouse and no one there will care. I’m there for a couple of hours almost every day, and I promise to walk you mornings and evenings besides.” Although maybe one of the other tenants will agree to walk you occasionally, he thought but didn’t say aloud.
He opened the door to his miniscule living/dining/bedroom, and Happy bounded out of the bathroom. He headed across the small room and leaped on the unmade sofa/bed. He started sniffing the Justin-smell enthusiastically. Remembering last night’s telephone sex with Brian, Justin was sure there was lots to smell. He sat down on the side of the bed, grabbed Happy by the scruff of the neck, and pulled him onto the floor, clasping the squirming dog between his legs. After he had wrestled Happy into his collar and snapped on the leash, he grabbed the shopping bag from Best Pets and let them both out the door.
Justin looked around his studio. It was a single room on the third floor of an old warehouse that had been converted into rental spaces. Tenants were expected to make any upgrades they needed. Justin hadn’t needed many. The space’s attraction for him had been the huge windows that ran almost from floor to 15’ ceilings - that and the almost-affordable rent. His easel and the chest of drawers where he kept his supplies stood in front of the windows, with his new piece standing ready to be worked on. He gave it a quick glance, then turned his attention back to Happy.
He unsnapped the dog’s leash, and Happy started touring the space, sniffing. He seemed particularly interested in the baseboards and corners of the room. Justin had always suspected the presence of mice and, perhaps, rats, and the intensity of Happy’s interest reinforced his suspicion. He opened the windows and turned on his fan; the room’s amenities did not include either heating or air conditioning. “I think you’ll be alright here,” he said to the dog. “I’ll put down papers in case you can’t make it until I can walk you again. I’m going down the hall now to fill your water bowl, but I’ll be right back.” Happy seemed more interested in one particular corner of the room than in Justin’s announcement, but he did respond with a single thump of his tail.
When Justin got back with Happy’s bowl of water, he filled a second bowl with dry food. “There you go, Hap,” he said. He sat down on one of the two chairs he had scrounged from the trash. They must have once been part of a set of dining room chairs; he sat in his usual one, the one without arms. He pulled up his T-shirt and wiped the sweat off his forehead, then scrubbed down his face. He opened his water bottle and took a long swig.
“I wonder what Brian will think of you,” he said to the hungry dog. “I’m pretty sure…I’m certain…Brian’s not an animal lover. I’m thinking maybe you’ll be my little secret, at least for now, until I decide whether or not I can keep you.” Happy looked over his shoulder, alarmed at the change in Justin’s voice, then went back to finishing off his food.
“I always wanted a dog,” Justin said, his voice wistful, “but I don’t know if this is going to work out. Probably I should be finding you a good home instead of even thinking about keeping you. I don’t know if I can get over here often enough to take care of you like I should. And what the fuck happens when I go back to the Pitts for the holidays and am gone for a week? So fucking complicated.”
Justin sighed and Happy came over and pushed on Justin’s hand with his nose. Justin scratched behind his ear and said, “Don’t worry. Something will work out. I’ll make sure of it.” Happy smiled and panted harder.
Justin stood up and looked first at his painting, then at his watch. He had to be at The Steak Out to start his shift in two hours. That meant if he worked on the painting for an hour, he’d still have time to walk Hap before he left for work.
Justin poured himself a cup of coffee, and said, “Fill you up, Brian?”
Brian grunted, which Justin interpreted as a negative. He lowered himself to the couch cautiously. He was sore. He’d had an athletic night, last night, followed by more athleticism this afternoon. He had twinges in all those places that hadn’t gotten much exercise recently: the backs of his legs, the insides of his thighs, and of course his asshole. I hurt good, he thought and smiled.
He looked down at Brian, sprawled out along the length of the couch. He had put his feet on Justin’s lap…those long, flexible feet…his head was cushioned on his bent arm, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be falling asleep. Old man needs his rest, Justin thought, and smiled. I wouldn’t mind leaning my head back and shutting my eyes for an hour or so, but…poor Happy. I’ve gotta get moving. This is the perfect time, if I can just get out from under Brian without waking him the fuck up.
He’d snuck out on a sleeping Brian this morning, leaving a note behind: “Remember I told you I have to check on a friend this morning. I’m going to see Hap now, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He’d told Brian the night before that he was “helping Hap out,” but he was pretty sure Brian hadn’t processed that since Brian’s response had been to stick his tongue down Justin’s throat.
Sure enough, just as he was getting ready to leave his studio, Brian had called him, sleep still clogging his voice, and asked where the fuck he was and when the fuck he’d be back, because Brian had fucking plans for his ass. That had hurried Justin’s exit from the studio. As he jogged toward the stairs, behind him he could hear Happy whining and scrabbling at the door. He’d almost turned back. He’d walked Hap and fed him, but this was the first day he hadn’t spent any additional time in the studio. Usually he put in at least an hour or two, working, and it was no trouble at all to take five minutes out here and there, to throw a tennis ball up against a wall for Hap to retrieve. Another walk and Hap was ready for a restorative nap by the time he left.
Not this morning, however, and Justin was discovering just how guilty a neglected dog could make him feel. He was picturing Hap pressed against the door, his whines now mere moans. He looked at the clock. It was almost four, and Hap had been alone since a little after 9:00 a.m. He had to get going.
He looked down at Brian’s feet, lying across his lap, relaxed but solid. He slid his arm under Brian’s ankles and raised his feet enough so that he thought he could just about slip under them if he pressed his hip into the arm of the couch. He started moving, his eyes on Brian’s face. Brian’s lashes quivered but his eyes didn’t open. Justin raised Brian’s legs a fraction higher and moved forward. Brian mumbled, “What the fuck…?”
Justin ignored him and kept moving, slowly. Inevitably, he jostled Brian’s legs as he tried to stand up. Brian said, “What’s the problem?”
“I’ll be right back.”
“’Kay.” Brian shut his eyes again.
Justin grabbed his pants, T-shirt and shoes, and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself quietly.
When he came out, Brian was sitting up, his hair tousled but his expression annoyingly awake. “Where are you going?”
“I have to check in with Hap. I won’t be gone long.”
“I’ll go with you. I want to meet this Hap person.”
“I don’t know. Why not stay here, where it’s air conditioned?”
“Where are we going?” Brian was snapping his jeans and reaching for his shirt.
“Over near my studio.”
“We can take a taxi.” He looked around the room dismissively. “I’d rather meet your Hap than spend the hour in this shoe box, squinting at your fucking T.V. I don’t understand why the hell you don’t let me get you somewhere more comfortable to live. I’m tired of roughing it.”
“We’ve been over this a thousand times. I don’t want to discuss it again. Anyway, it’s not that bad.” Justin watched Brian shove his bare feet into his loafers. “Ready?”
“It’s that fucking bad, trust me.” He followed Justin through the door.
The taxi ride was mostly silent. At one point, Brian said, “You sure you have to check on this Hap?”
Justin took his hand. “I’m sure. He can’t manage by himself.”
“Or he wants a piece of your sweet ass.” Brian yawned.
“I’m not fucking him.”
“You know I don’t care, anyway.” Brian turned his hand under Justin’s and tightened his grip.
“I know.” And they both were silent.
Brian paid off the taxi when they got to the warehouse, and they both got out into the hot, dirty, humid air. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait in the Starbucks, Brian? It’s a block and a half from here, and it’s not only air conditioned, it’s refrigerated. You’ll be a lot more comfortable there, reading the paper, than in my studio.”
“In your studio?”
Fuck. “Um…well…he’s sort of staying there for now, until I can figure something else out.”
Brian narrowed his eyes. “You figure something else out? I gotta meet this guy. He sounds like a total loser.”
“What the hell. Come on.”
As soon as they opened the door from the stairs and turned into the corridor, Happy yelped a welcome. Justin stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Brian. He walked a little faster down the hallway, then - when Hap followed up his yelp with a whine - walked even faster until he was almost running. Brian, with his long legs, kept pace with him easily.
Justin got the door unlocked with a minimum of difficulty and was greeted enthusiastically. For a moment Happy fairly danced in place, then he made a lunge for Justin. Justin grabbed his front paws and pushed him down. “No,” he said. “Down, down.” He looked apologetically at Brian. “I’m trying to teach him not to jump on people.”
Brian arched an eyebrow. “Where the hell did you get the mutt? And how long have you had him?”
“I found him across the street from my building. That was on Monday. He was starving, Brian. Somebody abandoned him. I couldn’t leave him like that, and I couldn’t keep him in my apartment. Brandi would throw us both out. So….”
“So you didn’t do the smart thing and take him to the SPCA?”
“I couldn’t. He’d get put down. People only want puppies.” Justin looked at the dog’s big water bowl. “Listen, I need to refill his water bowl. I’ll be right back,” and he fled down the hall. Brian thinks I’m crazy, and maybe I am. Maybe I should start looking for someone to give Happy to. I could ask around at work or post something on a bulletin board at school. I need to be sensible. He set his jaw and started back.
Brian had turned the fan on and was sitting in the chair that Justin thought of as Brian’s: the one with arms. Happy was sitting at his knee and Brian was scratching his head. Brian looked up and said, “Jesus, it’s hot in here. You need air conditioning.”
Justin forced himself to stop staring at the unexpected sight of Brian petting a dog. “I need air conditioning and I need heating in the winter, but I’m making do with a fan in the summer and an electric heater in the winter. The first thing I’m getting is a work sink in here so I can clean up after myself instead of using the restroom. None of the other tenants on this floor have complained yet, but my mess must be getting on their nerves.”
He pulled out one of the drawers in the same bureau in which he stored his art supplies and took out a bag of dog kibble. He measured out a couple of cups of food and poured them into the metal bowl. The dog pounced while the kibble was still rattling musically as Justin poured. Justin looked at him worriedly. “I hope I’m feeding him the right amount,” he said. “I haven’t taken him to the vet’s yet,” he explained.
Brian walked over to where Happy was wolfing down his kibble greedily. “He might have something the fuck wrong with him,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.” Justin wrinkled his brow. “I had already arranged to have last night and tonight off before I got him, and those are when I get the best tips. I figure that I’ll make an appointment with the vet after next weekend.”
Happy had finished off his kibble and was now looking hopefully at the drawer where Justin kept it. “Want to go walkies?” he crooned. “Happy wanna go walkies?”
Brian made a gagging sound. “Walkies?”
Justin looked abashed. “Yeah. Well, you might want to wait here for us. It’s even hotter outside, and there’s not much fucking shade along the river here.”
Brian shrugged. “What the hell? We’re both going to need a shower anyway.” He raised his arm and sniffed. “Yeah, definitely shower time.” He followed Justin and Happy out the door.
Justin put his feet up on the coffee table, next to Brian’s. He was working on a bowl of Cap’n Crunch cereal, dangerously full of milk, and watching the weather channel. “It’s going to cool off a little tomorrow, but the temperature is still going to be in the 90s. It won’t be so humid, though, so that’s good.”
Brian grunted. He was looking at the Real Estate section of the Sunday New York Times.
Justin shrugged and started flipping through the channels, finally finding one showing an episode of the Simpsons. He put his empty bowl down on the floor next to him and settled down to watch. I love this, he thought. Nothing special’s happening. It’s Sunday morning. I’m watching T.V., Brian’s reading his paper, but we’re together. That’s just so right.
Later, Brian lowered his paper with a rustle. “You can’t tell from the ads whether a condo accepts pets. Some of them do, I’m sure.” He reached out one long arm and snagged his briefcase.
Justin thought how much smaller his small apartment was when Brian was there. “What are you doing?”
“Writing down a couple of names and phone numbers of real estate agents.”
“Real estate agents?” Justin’s voice rose on the last word. “Why?”
“I’m looking for a condo that takes dogs.”
“Dogs?”
“You know…woof, woof. Dogs. Like Happy. You can’t keep Happy in that fucking studio long term. It’s not right.”
“Not right?”
“Justin, are you O.K.? You keep repeating everything I say.”
Justin blinked. He was. “I’m confused.”
“That’s apparent. I’ll explain, using small words and speaking slowly, O.K.?” He leaned over and wrapped his hand around the back of Justin’s head, urging him forward. Justin complied eagerly. “I’m going to buy a condo for us, one that takes dogs.” Brian licked along Justin’s lips, then across his jawbone to the sensitive skin below his ear. “You and Happy will move in.” He nuzzled Justin’s neck. Justin moaned and moved closer. “I will stay with you when I’m in New York. Got it?” His other hand was exploring below the waistband of Justin’s briefs.
Through a haze of lust, Justin zeroed in on two words. “For us?”
Brian gave a low sound that might have been a chuckle, might have been a groan. “You know, if you were living in something larger than my mother’s closet, I might be here more often and stay longer.” He was tugging Justin’s briefs down.
Justin arched up off the couch. “Even with a dog in the apartment?”
“I’d rather not have my hot piece of ass disappearing twice a day to feed his anim….”
The end of the last word was lost as Brian’s mouth slid down the length of Justin’s cock. Justin ran his hand through Brian’s hair. “I get it,” he gasped. “Oh my God, I get it.” His smile was so radiant that the temperature in the room went up two degrees, but neither he nor Brian noticed.