“Kill it!” roared the voices of several children in unison. “Kill the bastard thing!” one yelled louder than the others. The cries had attracted Lazarus’ attention. He followed the voices down an alley, ignoring Gabriel’s warnings not to go, and found around ten or fifteen youths in a semi circle around a great hound that had been backed up against a wall. A few of them wielded sticks and bits of wood from crates that they had broken, and the rest had stones that fitted neatly into their young palms.

One of them threw a rock, hitting the dog square in the ribs with an audible thump. Their bloodlust surged as the dog whined in pain and pushed itself back against the wall away from those that meant it harm. They closed in on it, jeering and jabbing at it, whacking it with their sticks if it snapped at them defensively.

Lazarus felt a jolt of sympathy for the beast. Striding over, he yelled for them to stop. The youths turned on him. The anger in his blue eyes was colder than anything they’d ever seen.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?” he snapped, “has that dog ever done anything to you?” A small smirk curled his lips as none of them could think of anything to say. “Be gone w’ you all. There’re plenty of other things t’ do other than pick on dogs.” He slapped one around the back of his head for emphasis and pushed him in the direction of the main street, growling at a few of them to clear off. By the time Gabriel had caught up with him, Lazarus was kneeling next to the dog, checking for any damage. “Good boy,” he cooed, stroking the dog gently. The beast rolled over on its back, making Lazarus chuckle. “My bad. Good girl,” he smiled, rubbing her belly.

“What on earth was that about?” Gabriel asked, standing behind him.

“Those kids were torturing this dog, so I stopped them,” he explained simply, without looking up; he was too busy petting the dog to want to look anywhere other than the expression of gratefulness in her huge, dark eyes.

“That dog could be riddled with diseases you know. You’ve no idea where it’s been.”

“But look at her, she’s gorgeous,” Lazarus grinned, finally glancing around, “and she likes me.”

“Lazarus, we came out to get something to eat, not to pick up a stray dog,” Gabriel groaned. Lazarus plonked himself down next to the dog and put his arms around her, fluttering his eyelids.

“Please can we keep her?”


He widened his eyes a little, pouting. “Please?”

“No, Lazarus,” Gabriel groaned, looking away from his big blue eyes. Lazarus said nothing, simply resting his head on the dog’s and staying where he was. “Please get up.”

“I want to keep the dog,” Lazarus pouted some more. Gabriel risked glancing back at him.

“We can’t keep her.”

“Why not?”

“Where would we keep her?”

“In the house.”

“My father would have a fit.”

“My place then.”

“She wouldn’t fit.”

“I’d manage.”

Gabriel was lost for words. “I- You- There’s no way- Lazarus, please,” he spluttered, knowing he was going to lose to a pout and a pretty face. “I hate you,” he grumbled, sticking out his hand to help him up.

“No you don’t,” he grinned, recklessly stealing a kiss without checking that no one was looking. When Lazarus next looked at the dog, he almost jumped. The beast had decided to stand up and was stood there dopily wagging her tail. Her height was what had stunned Lazarus, however. She was nearly three feet tall, which meant she came up to his ribs. “Fuck me,” he whistled, patting her head.

One of Gabriel’s arms slipped around his waist, pulling him close. “Later,” he muttered huskily into Lazarus’ ear with a low laugh. Humming, he turned and kissed him again, before leading them both back out into the main street to return to their original plan of finding something for breakfast. 

The End

43 comments about this story Feed