I came home to the smell of a familiar dog. No matter how much time I spent with them, the smell was something I was still getting used to. I could smell him lounging on my bed, and instead of going straight in to berate him for just letting himself in, I opened a few windows, making sure to put a paper weight over my work on the desk.
A small smile tugged at my lips as the over sized snowy white wolf came into view, curled up in the middle of my bed, his pale blue eyes watching the doorway for me. Lazarus lifted his head a little, his jaw falling open as he let his tongue loll out, happy to see me. I put out a hand for him to nuzzle as I sat on the end of the bed with him. Instead of his usual greeting, though, he stopped, and frowned - at least, as much as a wolf could. He sniffed my shirt and sat up, transforming back into his equally beautiful human form.
"You smell different," he stated bluntly, leaning in to sniff me again. I watched his brows furrow as he tugged the cloth of my shirt up towards his face, sort of bringing me with it. "Caught the attention of another wolf?" his voice turned casual, but I could see the spark of jealousy in his eyes.
I ran a hand through his too-long blonde hair and pecked him on the cheek. "He pissed me off, and I used him for dinner instead of a human. A pup that had no idea who he was messing with. It doesn't matter." He pushed his head up to meet my hand, demanding more affection from me - it was an action I'd always found uncannily doglike. I wondered vaguely if he even knew he was doing it. I absently stroked his thigh with my free hand, and eventually he relaxed, leaning into me. I wrapped my arms around him and kept stroking his thigh, closing my eyes.
Sometimes, I think he wishes we were more than just fuck buddies. I don't really know what to think about it, to be honest. I'm not what you would call ‘in touch with my emotions'. Or anyone's. I recognize happy and angry and lusty. That's about it. It's not autism, or anything, I'm just socially retarded.
That said, I haven't met a person yet who I couldn't charm into my bed.
"Wanna watch a movie?" I suggest after a while, and he nods. We move to the sofa, and he chooses a DVD to put in, lying down with me. I spoon him kind of possessively, one arm folded firmly over his chest, and one leg draped across both of his, pinning him to my body. I hold him so he's pressed tightly against me, and settle down to watch the movie, playing with his hair.
Another thing about Lazarus, aside from him maybe wanting to be more than a fuck buddy to me, which is weird and fucked up to me as it is, is also kind of like a pet. Which is probably why his pack hates me so much. I effectively stole their beta wolf from them. He doesn't seem to have any intention of giving himself back to them, either. In the late afternoon when I roll out of bed into the mild sunlight filtering through the blinds, we shower together, and he makes himself something to eat and then he transforms back into his wolf form. He says he feels more free that way. I don't argue with it, but it's always kinda hard to explain to curious passers by what breed my dog is and that despite his size, he's actually very friendly and obedient and doesn't need to be on a leash. I thought about investing in one, but he promised to tear me apart and burn me if I did.
Either way, we went for walks every day, just like a dog owner would with a regular pet. He insisted on it. He couldn't go alone or he'd end up being caught by some animal shelter, and it wasn't as fun in his human form.
So anyways, we were walking through the park as usual, blah, blah, blah, when suddenly Lazarus just stops and sniffs the air. He keeps sniffing around, looking up at me and whining. I glance around and notice there's a certain, vaguely familiar smell hanging around. And then I notice him.
That fucking pup from last night. As my eyes found his face, he smirked a little, and I arched my eyebrow. What was he smiling at.
"Hey, bitch," he said.
"Hey, pup," I replied dryly.
"Don't call me pup," the glare from last night instantly returned.
"Don't call me bitch."
"Thought you said it was fine," he smirked again and I shrugged, my hand finding the soft fur of Lazarus' head as he started to growl.
"Who's the mutt?"
"His name's Lazarus."
"Lazarus?" he laughed a little. I wondered briefly if he was taking the piss or if he couldn't tell that Lazarus was in fact, a much older, nicer wolf.
I nodded. "I believe I mentioned him last night - only wolf I trust."
"Was there anything you wanted, or did you just want to try and insult my friend here?"
He hummed, just wanted to say thanks for last night."
"Any time. You're a lot easier than humans," I grinned a little. Apparently this statement didn't make Lazarus feel any better about why I'd come home smelling of another wolf. As the pup's lips twisted up in another smirk, Lazarus rubbed his face up and down my leg, giving the pup a not-so-subtle hint to fuck off.
"Shame you didn't go all the way," his smirk didn't really fade at all, "you look like you'd be good in bed."
"Maybe some other time, kiddo," I said, sensing Lazarus' urge to attack the other wolf. "C'mon, blondie. Time we went home."