Title: Dog Years (unlikely pairing)
Pairing: Jose Theodore / Keith Primeau
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction
Rating, umm PG-13
This
is hands down the sappiest thing I have ever written in my life. But I was in a
giggly mood last night, and didn't feel like doing angsty stuff. This was the
idea I had for the unlikely fic challenge. It's just so sappy. I give it a D
for diabetes and PG-13 for some kissing. Blech, if anyone wants to take it off
my hands and do something with it, they can help themselves!
Keith's
POV.
The
one benefit of both our teams sucking was more time together. Of course, it
meant both our teams sucked. If Jose and I have one thing in common, we hate to
lose.
We
also have in common preferring red wine to white, preferring hockey to football,
and autumn to winter - because neither of us particularly likes shoveling snow.
We
prefer here to there, boys to girls and afternoon naps to sleeping in in the
morning.
We
both prefer sunset to sunrise, half moons to harvest moons.
There
is never drinking chocolate in the house because we both love it. We both have
one percent milk. We both hate lamb, loathe pork and love turkey. We often want
the same meals in restaurants.
But
also, he likes to lie on the couch; I like to sprawl on the floor. I like to
sleep on my back, him on his side.
He
likes air hockey and I like pool.
But
that is ok, my couch isn't big enough for two, and in bed it means Jose can
sleep on my shoulder. And it also means that we don't have to be concerned with
competing against each other in bar sports. In the off-season it is nice to be
his cheering section.
We
both like golf, but I will happily admit Jose is the more nattily dressed of
the two of us. He can carry off any manner of headwear with aplomb, and I, I
stick to baseball caps.
Golf has been called the great equalizer. Doesn't
matter if you are a brilliant scientist, you can suck at golf. You can be a
professional athlete and suck at golf.
I suck at golf. But I love it. It's like an evil high
maintenance girlfriend.
Who
hates me. Secretly she is only with me to drain me dry. To suck the very marrow
from my body. And yet I am a hopeless puppy-dog trailing behind her, desperate
for her affection.
I mention dogs for a reason.
When the weather is good I would set up golf balls at
the end of my garden and smack then into the fence and the neighbors field. It
feels damn good. Every so often the dogs will scamper over and get some of the
balls back.
Tika is the best at finding them. She's got a real
nose for this kind of thing, Jake is game but he only has three legs. Zyll,
well he's a special case. He's the world's dumbest dog. Generally Arlo will
give him a golf ball, and generally Zyll will forget to bring it to me and take
off after a rabbit. They are cute though. Well I think they are cute.
Tika arrived after a car accident out front of my
house, given my way I would find the person who did it and roll my car over
them a few times. Zyll is her boy; she was pregnant when I found her under the
porch.
So they are my buddies, my companions, I love the
furry little critters.
Jose does not. I could stand it if he would tolerate
them, but he wants them gone. What is it with high maintenance relationships
and me?
I smack a few more golf balls into the fence. I can't
get rid of them, I won't but I don't want to lose him either. I scowl at the
fence and Arlo sticks his wet nose in my hand.
He smiles his little dog smile at me.
"Stop being so bad." I say to him. "I
don't want Jose to go back to Montreal. Just be good ok buddy?"
Arlo cocks his head like he understands me then goes
off and chews on a shoe. Without looking I know it is Jose's.
Jose and I were usually in hotel rooms. And, well
there I can't see that he has more clothes than two women, and he can't see I
am a terrible slob. And a huge wuss about the dogs.
When he first stayed here, they were pretty good. For
all of two seconds. It should have been perfect; I picked him up at the
airport, beautiful day, and his hand on mine between us in the car. A certain
promise of the world's most mind-blowing reunion sex in the air. And thenÉ the
little eyes peeking over the side of the bed.
Jose found them distracting. And mood killing. He
found the wet nose waking him annoying; he found the chewing on his belt infuriating.
He didn't see the dog playing tug-of-war he saw it eating his favorite silk
tie.
And I can't leave them to run off and travel like he
wants. Over night is the best that I can offer, and that is driving him up the
wall.
I'm a homebody Jose is not. It's been two weeks, and I
don't want to lose him, and I thought perhaps he didn't want to lose me,
"Well, why are you here?" I shouted.
"I love you, you idiot!" He screamed back.
Then he yelled in French, I have no idea what he said, but it sounded bad.
I hold on to that thought, even if it was yelling, he
did say he loved me.
I am hiding in the backyard. Jose is, actually I have
no idea where he is. I guess he is still here only because my truck is still in
the driveway. Jose does not have a truck.
I go inside and Jose is sprawled across the couch.
Zyll is sitting on the floor watching him. When Jose gets up he is going to
trip over the dog. Shit. I better wake him up.
I touch Jose's lips softly. They twitch, but he
doesn't wake up. I am fascinated running my finger over them his mouth opens a
tiny bit and I stroke the inside of his lips where it is softer.
"I'm awake." His lips move against me.
"Don't get up, the dog is here."
Jose rolls his eyes, "of fucking course it is,
smelly beasts."
Zyll sits up panting happily at seeing Jose is awake.
He licks Jose's hand and runs for the outdoors, crashing into the glass door. I
sigh and get up and let him out.
Jose wipes his hand on the side of the couch a look of
revulsion on his face. "I don't want to know where that tongue was."
He finally says.
"I gave them a bath yesterday." I remind
him.
"Yes, house smelled like wet dog last
night." Jose snipes back spitefully.
"It was 30 degrees, all the windows were
open." Trust him to bring up that, and not the fact that the balcony doors
were open in our room, and Jose was giggling his head off as I used the
moonbeams to map a course for me to lick across his body.
And the dogs were locked downstairs.
"Why are they always around?" he whines.
"They are always here, when I am sleeping, when I am trying to cook
something."
"Why not?" I smile at Jose and when he
doesn't pull away run my finger over his lips again. "They think you are
part of the family."
"Doesn't walking erect give it away?" Jose
grouses, but smiling a tiny bit under my fingers and running his fingers
lightly up my hip. "I'm part of the family?"
"They can't tell when you are lying down. And of
course you are."
"Just once I would like to have a nap here that
doesnŐt involve one of them trying to share the bed with me, or glare at me
from the carpet." Jose says seriously.
"Not glaring, guarding."
"Guarding?" Jose asks sounding a little bit
interested and not like he wants to harm one of the dogs.
"He's guarding you."
"From what? His water dish? I don't want
it."
I laugh, "no he's protecting you. Making sure
nothing can get near you when you are sleeping. He would happily give you his
water dish you know?"
"Probably wants to trip me up." Jose scowls.
"Oh no, it's back." Zyll is sitting with Arlo on the porch scrunching
his nose against the door. It's not his best look. I get up and let them in.
They spot him sitting on the couch and run over
yapping and nudging under his hands with their noses so he will pat them. Jose
doesn't seem to get the point and shrinks back in the couch away from them.
"Why won't they leave me alone?" He asks
pathetically. "Seriously, am I dog-nip or something?"
"They think you're great." I tell him softly
from the door, leaning down to pat Zyll softly. "We all do."
"That is why they want to be around you, and
protect you when you are sleeping, and play with your stuff."
"Really?" Jose looks down but he has a
delighted smile on his face. "Why do they like me?" He asks softly,
and his eyes are asking for a serious answer.
"Because you're kind to them even though you hate
them."
"I don't /hate/ them Jose protests. "They
are justÉ"
"Overwhelming? New?"
"Both those things." Jose shrugs. "Why
else do they like me?" But he smiles this time and I walk over and drop
down to my knees in front of him. In much the same way the dogs sit and gaze up
at him actually.
"Because you're clever, and dedicated."
"Dogs can tell these things?" Jose grins and
me and leans forward so our foreheads are touching.
"Yes." I whisper to him. "And that
you're a good kisser, and a great golfer, and a beautiful person."
Jose leans down a bit further and kisses me. No
pressure, just leaning our lips together and breathing. "Thank you."
He whispers and pulls back.
"Fine." Jose pets Arlo softly and is
rewarded with enthusiastic doggie kisses.
He grimaces and wipes the side of his face but he is still smiling.
"Maybe I don't want you to get rid of them anymore."
"If you want me to, I can keep them." Jose
sticks his tongue out and me but smiles.
"But, they have to stay down stairs."
"Fine."
"And no way are they allowed on the bed, or the
couch."
"Sounds reasonable."
"And you have to make them stop eating my
shoes."
"I'll buy you new shoes." I tell him with a
big grin on my face.
He just laughs, but his face turns to horror and he
points out the door. Tika has a dead rabbit. Didn't I say that she was a great
hunter? I may have neglected to mention that to Jose.
End
