Chapter Text
Dennis was stretched out, toes reaching the foot of the bed and arms curled underneath his neck to prop his head up. He was on top of the covers, fast asleep. His boyfriend was at the doorway, watching. When Jack was younger, he was the only hybrid in most of the places he frequented. He was the only wolf in his family, the only animal in his medicine program, and the only hybrid at the PTMC. In recent years, more hybrids joined the workforce, and he had made friends with a few. There was a paediatric nurse who shifted into a cat, a deer in pathology and a black bear surgeon. Dennis was the only other animal in the emergency department, though. Jack pushed himself off the door, walking to the bed, before unstrapping his prosthetic, and placing it gently on the floor. Michael would be home soon, and the feeling in his chest that he wasn’t keeping track of his pack would disappear. Slowly and carefully, he climbed on the bed, and crawled over his boyfriend. He had been looking for his pack his whole life, and had settled when he met Michael. Sure, the man wasn’t a wolf, or even a hybrid, but he was his mate (or husband, as Michael preferred to say), and he became his pack. Wolves mate for life, so one thing Jack never expected was another body in their bed, coffee mug in their sink, or toothbrush in their bathroom. But then, there was Dennis. An anxious fox who tucked his tail and got scared of thunder, but still fought a wolf three times his size for fun. When he’d first moved away from his family, he became his own worst nightmare; a literal lone wolf. That was why Michael and Dennis were so important to him. Dennis, as a fox, was inherently solitary. He didn’t search for company, or a pack, and if it hadn’t been for Michael dragging him to their house to shift, he might have been alone his whole life.
“Dennis,” Jack whispered, leaning down over him. The younger man didn’t move, beyond his fingers twitching by his head. Jack pressed his face into his neck, mapping out where his scent glands would be. Gently, he licked against his neck, over and over, pressing his scent into his boyfriend. Packs all smelled the same.
Dennis woke up an hour later, immediately reaching up to rub at the side of his neck. Jack knew that dried saliva was uncomfortable, Michael used to complain plenty, but it wasn’t his fault. Instinct was instinct. The younger man sat up, stretching his back, before crawling towards his boyfriend. Jack was reading emails at the head of the bed, squinting through his glasses at information about radiology orders and when X-rays could be expected. Dennis plucked his phone out of his hand, and settled himself happily on his thighs.
“Well hello to you, too,” Jack drawled, sliding his glasses off his nose. His boyfriend merely hummed in response, leaning forward to nose at his neck. Jack’s hands came up to hold his ribs, helping him arch inwards, cracking his back softly. He sighed.
“Did you scent mark me again?”
“I plead the fifth.” Dennis rolled his eyes.
“I sleep in your bed and I use your shower products, I already smell like you, you don’t have to do that.”
“Tell that to the den you put under the deck.” The younger man pouted playfully, squeezing his knees around Jack’s hips.
“You can use it too,” he muttered. The den had been added recently after Michael had come home and found Dennis wrapped in blankets and underneath their bed. He had to be pressed for answers, but eventually, he shared about the haven the house in Nebraska had been, especially stressing the smallest of things that had made it his home too. Their yard was already built for Jack and his shifting, so it only made sense that Dennis had his own space. Thus, him and Michael found a safe place under the deck, and dug out a decent little hole, protected from other critters and flooding, but still easy to get in and out of.
“That thing is too small for me and you know it,” Jack teased, tilting his head up to kiss the underside of his jaw.
“And you know that no one else can smell your scent marks.” His kisses turned into a gentle bite, indenting his teeth on the younger man’s neck.
“They’re not for anyone else.” He lapped a long lick up his neck. Dennis shivered.
“How did Michael ever put up with you?”
“Training,” he muttered easily. He liked to joke about exactly how trained his husband was, how he was the dog and Robby was human, and yet Robby was the one who had to be trained. Dennis found some humour in it, but he was too much of a teacher’s pet to admit it to anyone. Luckily for Jack, that same attribute made Dennis lean forward and allow him to continue licking. It wasn’t a scent mark while they were human, but it satisfied the urge.
Dennis had shifted by the time Michael got home. Since his husband and boyfriend were both hybrids, he didn’t walk in and yell that he was home, instead he would click his tongue or whistle. Dennis had thought it was odd on the first night he was there, but Jack saw the way he perked up at a whistle from the door, whether he was a fox or a human. He had been peacefully settled on his lap, purring like a motor, when the whistle came from the door. He was up and racing towards the door before Jack could even register what the sound meant.
“Oh, hello baby,” Michael said from the doorway. Jack crutched his way to the entrance, leaning against a wall once he was close.
“No hello for me?” He teased, smirking at his husband. A few years ago, he’d given up trying to pick Jack up when he was a wolf. He was much too large, and Michael’s back was much too sore, but Dennis was pretty tiny when it came down to it. His hand reached across his whole ribcage, and he managed to hold him one handed from time to time. He was belly up in Michael’s arms, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched his boyfriends stare at each other.
“I would never forget to say hello to the biggest baby of all,” he cooed, tugging him in for a hard kiss.
“Asshole,” Jack muttered against his lips.
“You love me,” Michael said back, pressing one last kiss to his husband’s lips. Jack didn’t reply, because the affirmative would just inflate his ego, and the dissenting would be a blatant lie. Michael turned his affections back to Dennis, giving him belly rubs and ear scratches while the fox purred happily. The first time the younger man had purred on him, Jack had been genuinely worried that he was choking. It was a higher pitch than that of a cat’s, and more of a soft, rumbly whine. But when Michael came into the room, laughed, and said he was purring, he’d been shocked, and pleased. There were very few good ways to communicate between humans and hybrids when they were animals, so purring was certainly a helpful asset. Plus, it was adorable. He smiled fondly, following Michael into the kitchen to help him prepare tea and supper.
Dennis slept in a dog bed in the closet where it was nice, dark, and secluded, but where he could still see his boyfriends. When he did sleep in their bed, he normally ended up mostly on top of Michael with his face in his neck. One hand always ended up on Jack’s bicep. But when they were alone, Jack always found himself curled around Michael. His arms would be slung around his neck, and his leg would be hiked up over his hip. His mate had no complaints, he was just as much of a cuddler as Jack. Sometimes he would find his way across the bed- entirely in his sleep- and press himself against whomever was closest. Once or twice, Jack and Dennis had situated themselves on either side of him, using his chest as a pillow and their hands as a bridge. Jack still felt possessive, and since Michael had come home smelling like antiseptic and cigarettes, he needed to get his own scent back on him.
“Hey there,” Michael muttered softly, finding himself with a lapful of his husband. Jack hummed mildly, bracketing his thighs with his own. A soft expression took over his face, and he tilted his head.
“Do I not smell like you, pup?” The nickname had surfaced with Dennis, a soft way to get his attention, and make him realize what they wanted. But when Michael had called him ‘puppy’ one night offhandedly and Dennis wasn’t in the house, it had hit him somewhere deep in the chest. Suffice to say, he limped a bit more than usual the next day.
“You smell like hand sanitizer,” he bit out. “Have you been bathing in that shit again?”
“No, I barely use it. I know it hurts my puppies’ noses.” A curl in his chest, something grabbing a hold of his lungs and squeezing.
“I don’t know how you still make me feel so fond of you, old man.” Michael simply smiled, sliding his hands along Jack’s thighs, before tilting his chin up. He would never truly understand just how much that surrender meant to his husband; how vulnerable he was being and how much he loved it. The expanse of his throat, right next to his teeth, but he wasn’t even scared, and that meant everything. Even in his human form, a few wolf traits remained, and his sense of smell was one of them. He sniffed along his husband’s neck, finding nothing but clues of coffee, alcohol swabs, and Dennis. A small bite over his carotid, pressing his tongue against the thin skin, feeling the steady beat of his heart, not a second too fast.
“You ever think that you trust me too much?” He lapped over the bite mark, and Michael chuckled. “Why would that be?”
“I’m a hunter. You have a wolf in your bed, and you’re just baring your neck.”
“Yeah, well. I have no survival instincts when it comes to beautiful things like you.” Jack smiled, kissing the bump of his Adam’s apple, before finally settling to his task. Humans don’t have scent patches, or anything close, beyond sweat glands. Marking Dennis was easy, just a rough estimate of where his patches would be based on where they were when he was a fox. For Michael, however, he licked over the places he would leave love bites. He figured that hickeys were the human equivalent of scent marking anyways, it was a blatant mark of this is mine. He enjoyed them just as much as he enjoyed regular marking. He lapped over Michael’s collarbones, and the dip between his shoulders and his neck. Then he would lick from the dip, straight up to his earlobe. His husband would sit and wait, thumbs rubbing circles on his hips, only making sound when teeth dug into his skin. They both knew the trails of saliva meant nothing to anyone else, no matter how much emotion he poured into it, but to them it was a claim. This is mine.
Michael kissed him goodbye at 6, when he was still half asleep. Blearily, he tugged his clothes off, and shifted, before curling back up in bed. Him and Dennis had somehow gotten the same week off, and had been planning on using it to its full extent, meaning they would shift as much as possible. Spending a week straight as fox and wolf had been debated, but eventually decided against, because even though they were still people, instincts had a habit of fucking things up. Jack had felt very bad the last time he’d accidentally killed a rabbit in their yard. He and Michael had buried it in a shoebox, and given it a tiny grave marker, and whenever he thought for too long, he always found himself thinking about the rabbit. Dennis had lived on a farm, so his hunting was a natural part of him. He killed rats and rabbits, chased off squirrels and porcupines, and apparently scared away a coyote once. He most likely thought Jack’s guilt was ridiculous, but he never said anything about it.
When he woke up a second time, it was at 8 to a hand in his fur.
“I’m gonna make some food, do you want some?” Dennis asked, blinking slowly. He was in boxers, and one of Michael’s long sleeved under-shirts. Jack thumped his tail against the bed, and the younger man smiled.
“Eggs are good?” Another thump.
“Good boy,” he muttered, leaning down to press a hard kiss to his head. Jack growled playfully, shoving his snout up to lick his chin.
“Be nice,” Dennis chided. “Now come on, I’m not bringing food up here for you, you princess.”
‘I am a princess, and you should be much nicer to royalty,’ Jack said, even though he knew his boyfriend couldn’t understand him. It was the thought that counted. He hopped off the bed, happily bumping his head into Dennis’ shin, rubbing his body against his legs. The younger man smiled, running a hand over his thick fur, scratching over his ears, before slowly padding out of the room. Jack followed obediently, like a good guard dog.
Dennis made him eggs with cheese, and threw in leftover steamed broccoli for fibre, or whatever bullshit he was spouting most recently. Jack would have eaten it no matter what, but he could do without the lecture about healthy eating. He was a doctor, he knew this just us much as Dennis did. He tended to excuse it because Dennis still needed to refresh on his learning, even as an MS4, and because he was cute when he explained things. Jack sat at his feet while they ate, occasionally pausing to lean his head against his leg. When Dennis lay between his legs as a fox, his head only really reached his ankle, whereas Jack’s nearly reached Dennis’ knee. The size difference wasn’t lost on him. When they were both human, they were fairly similar size-wise. Jack was a few inches taller than Dennis, and a bit broader, but other than that, they were pretty equal. But as animals, Jack towered over his boyfriend. Wolves were big and people forgot that. From his nose to the tip of his tail, he was 5 feet long. Three feet at the shoulder, with paws as big as his regular hands, and a jaw wide enough to to hold a football lengthwise. Dennis on the other hand, was roughly the size of two house cats merged into one animal. Sure, he could fight and he could hunt, but he was small compared to Jack. And when he was human, the thought was a bit addictive. While Jack thought, Dennis read through texts from Trinity, narrating his replies as he drank his coffee. She knew now, and had for a while. He went home after a few days hiding out at their house, and she was rightfully concerned as to his whereabouts. It had been blatantly obvious that he wasn’t at work, and more importantly, wasn’t home. So he sat her down and told her (most of) the truth. He was a fox, and he’d gone off to shift. For all her brashness, she’d taken it very well, and had a mature conversation about it. At least until she asked if he was ‘a fox virgin, or do you have fox-children out there?’ Now, he shifted a bit at home, mostly to sleep when it was cold out, but he still preferred their large backyard, and hopefully the company of his boyfriends. He didn’t tell her about his relationship status with their attendings, at least until a mandatory disclosure form was filled out for HR, when their business officially entered the rumour mill. Around the same time, Trinity and Garcia, strangely, decided to fill out their own disclosure form. The questions for Dennis lessened, because Trinity was infinitely more likely to disclose the sordid details of her relationship. As far as Jack was aware, the ‘sordid details’ mostly composed of love island rewatches, ice cream dates, and a healthy amount of sex. Dennis stayed at their house when Garcia stayed at his. Sometimes Jack wondered when he would simply move in.
Weeks on break were the best weeks, especially break weeks with another person. When he was younger, still working 30 on, 30 off shifts, his days off with Michael were his favourite days. They’d still only been friends at the time, but Jack would shift and they’d lounge on a couch together, Jack often across Michael’s lap while they ate horrible food and watched horrible movies, and didn’t drink enough water. He used to miss those days, being students and residents rather than attendings, there was so much less responsibility. But now, they had Dennis, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. The younger man squirmed under him slightly, huffing with the weight of the wolf stretched out on top of him. Jack grumbled, sticking his tongue out to lick his chin. Dennis giggled weakly.
“I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable, but you’re the one who feels like a bus is on top of me.” He nipped his fingers in retaliation, and his boyfriend giggled again.
“Hey, behave, or I’ll tell Michael you were bad.” He wouldn’t dare. Jack had too much dirt on him for the threat to mean anything, but it was largely symbolic anyways. He whined, shuffling forward to lick his chin again, in apology.
“Good boy,” Dennis cooed. That specific nickname was reserved for him and only him, and only from Dennis while he was a wolf. They didn’t talk about it when they were both human, or while they were both dogs, but the way his tail thumped whenever his boyfriend said it was confirmation enough that he liked it. Someday, Michael was going to hear it, and it would become a thing, but it had yet to happen. For now, it was just theirs.
Jack beat Dennis to the door, getting the first kiss hello, and their regular hello of playful growling, biting, and shaking. Dennis got a dip and a kiss. He shifted back for dinner and bed, when Michael took the middle of the bed, and Dennis and Jack took either side.
“There are my pups,” Michael said, reaching out to cup both of their necks. “Missed you guys today. Langdon is being an ass, and Dana was… being Dana.”
“We didn’t have time to miss you,” Jack sighed. “Too much sleeping and making out to do.” His husband chuckled.
“He’s lying, he spent half the day whining at the door.” Dennis hitched a leg over Michael’s thigh, wrapping his foot around his leg to pull himself further on top of him. One of his hands was tangled with Jack’s against his chest.
“Lies,” the older man muttered, sinking his teeth into an available patch of skin on Michael’s bicep. His husband chuckled again, and tilted his head to the side, kissing his forehead softly.
“It’s nice to know you missed me too, puppy.” Jack licked apologetically at the bite, before leaning up to press their lips together. Even half asleep, Michael curled his tongue that way he knew he liked, and stroked a hand down his curls.
“Hey,” Dennis whined. “What about me? I want kisses.” So Michael kissed him too. Without him even needing to whine, Dennis leaned over and kissed Jack too, quick and sweet, sucking kiss after kiss off of his lips.
“God, you two are pretty,” Michael sighed.
“And we’re all yours.”