Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Hey, dog whisperer!" Adam's voice carries from outside into the small space of the portacabin they share for their businesses. Aaron would of course never choose to go by a title as ridiculous as the one that Barton just spat out, but Adam seemed to think it was too witty for him to ever stop using it.

"Yeah, mate?"

"You've got a client coming in by the looks of the dog he's struggling with."

"Cheers," Aaron is grateful for the heads up and he joins his friend outside the entrance to the portacabin, both staring at the approaching stranger. Adam isn't wrong, for once in his life. The man is really struggling with the big dog he's pulling in by its leash. The dog seems unwilling to advance and it's evident that there is no connection there. Not yet, Aaron hopes. That would be his task, to help one to develop.

If the bloke is also incredibly fit, wearing the kind of leather jacket that would normally make Aaron want to do some naughty things to him, that isn't something the up and coming dog trainer can reflect on for too long. He's just starting out and can't afford to be seen by clients as anything less than completely professional.

"You alright there, mate?" he asks as he feels sorry for the man and starts closing the distance between the two of them.

"Yeah," the man says, distracted by the dog and not quite looking at Aaron yet. He doesn't seem to truly register what he's being asked or what he replied. He's at a stand still, but the dog isn't, it's jumping around, bursting with energy and forcing the man to continue his struggle with the leash.

"What's his name?"

"Uh..." the guy is doing his best to pay attention and answer. "Ummm, Biscuit."

"Biscuit?" Aaron can't help his surprise. It's the sort of name reserved for a tiny, cute puppy, not a big beast like the one his potential client is losing the fight to.

"Yeah, my sister named him," the guy explains. "She decided this would be a great welcome home gift." The man's opinion of his sister's poor judgment is fully conveyed in the tone of his voice.

Aaron snorts and leans down a bit to catch the dog's attention, his fingers pointing to his eyes as a non-verbal command. He doesn't lean in enough to invade Biscuit's space and be intimidating, only so that its attention would be engaged. When the dog's gaze focuses on him, Aaron contentedly says, "Hi, Biscuit," and snaps his fingers as a positive reinforcement. Then he pulls out a treat from his pocket and holds it in front of the dog for a second, before feeding it to him. The dog happily chews it, then goes back to his attempts to free itself from the leash.

"A welcome home gift?" Aaron asks. He pats Biscuit's head and enjoys the enthusiastic response that gets him.

"Yeah, I used to live in Emmerdale when I was a kid and my sister convinced me it would be good to return to my family now that my engagement is over." Aaron doesn't respond. He simply looks at the man and nods ever so slightly, raising one eyebrow in a gesture that he hopes would encourage the stranger to expand on the circumstances of his divorce. Their eyes locked on each other, it seems to work and the man continues. "My fiancee was not very happy to discover I was also interested in men and made it clear she didn't want to see my face around anymore." There's a short pause, where the man averts his eyes away, like he'd only then realized what he's blurted out. "Sorry! Sorry, you don't need to know all that. Just, the dog, do you think you can help me and start right now? I've been doing my best, but nothing seems to work. I'm desperate."

"Now? Right then, let's see what we're working with. Just so you know, that means you're paying me from this very second."

"Yeah, that's fine, Aaron."

There's a momentary rush that runs through Aaron at the sound of his name in the stranger's mouth. He likes the way the man pronounces it, but has to swat the thought away like one would a pesky fly.

"I'm glad to hear that...?" He lets the inquisitive tone linger, for the man to pick up the hint and introduce himself.

"Oh yes, sorry, I forgot. I'm Robert. Robert Sugden."

"Alright then, Robert Sugden. Let's get you training Biscuit."

Aaron looks back at the dog, keeps his eyes trained on it and occasionally, when its gaze happens to meet his, he says, "good boy, Biscuit!" and proceeds to snap his fingers for positive reinforcement and next he gives it a treat. This is the most basic of maneuvers, he wants to make sure the dog recognizes its own name, but it's also a test to see just how hyperactive the dog is. Aaron's estimation is that the situation is not that bad. He explains all of that to Robert, who listens attentively and nods here and there. Aaron can sense that the man is beginning to relax. A sense of helplessness in what you're meant to do with a dog is often times a far scarier thing than the pet itself is.

"Right," Aaron finally says, "now you go on and do the same thing." He gives Robert a small handful of treats as they switch between them the hold on the leash. He waits to see his new client in action.

Just like that, all of the tension is back in the man's posture and movements. Aaron can tell and that's not going to be helpful. A stressed owner will usually pass on the stress to its pet as well, which in turn will make the animal less obedient and further stress its would be trainer. It's a vicious cycle and one he hopes Robert won't fall into.

In less than a full minute, he knows his hope was dashed. Robert's stress causes him to fret when Biscuit takes its time looking at him and he doesn't keep his focus. Instead, he starts glancing at Aaron between glares at the dog when he should be keeping his eyes constantly on it, missing the two or three brief instances when Biscuit did look in his direction. To add to that, Robert asks Aaron what's wrong and his voice reflects his apprehension. The dog would have to be deaf not to catch on. A small consolation is that Biscuit's reaction isn't as hyper as it might have been. On the other hand, the dog seems to figure out that its owner's attention is directed at Aaron and soon enough it follows suit, looking at the trainer again instead of at Robert. By the way it wags its tail, Biscuit is also expecting a treat for it.

Aaron gives in, trying to preserve at least one good response the exercise has yielded so far, an ability to focus on one person in between bouts of relentless, untamed energy. The trainer snaps his fingers for Biscuit right after one of those times when the dog looks at him and he gives it a treat. "Alright, we can try something else for now, we'll get back to this later on." He returns the leash to Robert and notices something of an instinctual flinch from him. If the owner starts developing anxiety about even holding his dog, they'll be in much bigger trouble, so Aaron doesn't offer to take the leash back.

He retrieves from one of the pockets of his bomber jacket a little ball of fake fur. It's just the kind of thing that would pick any dog's interest, certainly one as enthusiastic as Biscuit seems to be. Is it a friend, is it a cat, is it chewable? Inquisitive canine minds want to know and the dog seems to be an intelligent one, for all of his unbridled enthusiasm.

"We can try to back up a bit. Instead of teaching him how to do something, we can show it how not to do something. With some dogs, that can be easier. I know this can look difficult, but you have nothing to worry about, mate. Yeah?"

Robert looks away from the dog to Aaron and the gaze in his blue eyes... just for a split second it appears to soften. "Yeah, I trust you."

The trainer smiles and nods just as he would at any customer, much as he has to admit none are as dead gorgeous as this Robert bloke is. "Then don't be scared to let go of him now," Aaron says, crouching down and holding out the little ball of fur for Biscuit to focus on. Almost instantly, he lets it drop to the ground and before Biscuit has a chance to pounce on it (though the dog does get in there faster than Aaron might like to admit), he covers the ball with his hand. Biscuit tries sniffling around his hand, but to no avail. When the failure of the attempt is a certainty, Aaron snaps his fingers as encouragement and an indication to the dog that this is the result he's interested in. He picks up the ball and repeats the exercise. While doing so, he explains to Robert that the next time, he'll not cover the ball and Biscuit will only get the positive reinforcement if it avoids pouncing at the ball.

Robert nods. "That does appear simple enough," he says. "Can I try?"

"You sure?" Aaron asks and hopes this is not the case of an owner being eager to impress the professional trainer when they think they have the hang of things, but don't. That's not a common phenomenon, but it does happen. At least, so he's heard from other dog trainers.

"Yes. Keep the dog away from the plaything. How wrong can I get it?"

He got it really wrong. Aaron should have seen it coming, but Robert's confidence got to him. The fur ball got placed on the ground, as it was in the first two rounds of this exercise, but as soon as Biscuit pounced at it, Robert yelped and drew his hand back as quickly as he could. In doing so, he dropped the treats that Aaron gave him to hold and the dog was served to a small feast. "Nooo…" The poor man's cry and subsequent attempt to get the treats away from his dog didn't help unconfuse the communication between human and canine, but it could build tension and even negative emotions between the two of them, so Aaron had to step in.

"Don't, leave it," he says to Robert, reaching out to hold his hand still. It's warm and soft, sending tingles along Aaron's skin. He moves to grab Biscuit's leash before he becomes too distracted to pay the dog attention and it takes advantages of that. He doesn't want Robert struggling with the leash either, not at that moment at least. "He's mixed up, he's not gonna get the message we're going for with this today. We can try this exercise from the start during the next training session." Robert looks up at him, his grimace of misery slightly retreating with the mention of another meeting. The fleeting emotions scribbled all over Robert's face, open for Aaron to read as much as he pleases is like nothing he's seen in any other man. It's a shame dogs can't be charmed by human beauty or getting Biscuit to follow Robert's orders would have been a much easier feat.

"Well, your pup certainly has a lot of energy to burn. Maybe what we should do is have him moving around some? Help him get that out of his system. What d'ya say?" Aaron starts moving them to the area behind the portacabin, where he has a few small obstacle courses set up. This wouldn't usually be something he'd feature in a first training session, but the troubles they've been facing are on the unusual side of things, so he might need to resort to unusual solutions.

When they get to the yard, Aaron points out one specific obstacle course to Robert. It's the smallest one he had built, little more than a row of wooden planks placed in sequence, one after the other. The middle ones are kept above ground by building bricks, while the first and the last are placed at angle, connecting the other beams to the ground. "We're gonna have Biscuit run along this, yeah? Later on, we're gonna have him trained more specifically on pace and stopping along the course when we want him to, but for now, just hold him while he runs along it. Nothing to it."

Robert raises one eyebrow and lets out a skeptical huff of air even as he takes hold of the leash once more. Aaron notices the man's holding it so tightly, his knuckles are starting to turn white.

"No, don't do that, mate," he tells his client, even though this is not his usual style. He much prefers lending all his attention to the pets and getting them to perform than to building their owners' confidence. "Don't doubt yourself. He's an eager little thing. Umm, that can cause trouble, yeah, but... it also means all he wants for now is to run around, so you shouldn't have any problems getting him to run. You'll see, it'll be fine."

It was not, in fact, fine. Robert and Biscuit started out well, the dog took to the beams with ease and showed no resistance at the prospect of being allowed to run freely. Precisely when it was looking like it was going well, Robert turned to him with a great smile and that's when things took a turn so quickly, it was hard to react to it in a timely manner. Biscuit realized its owner was distracted and as the obstacle course wasn't that big, it decided this was the right opportunity to jump off. Robert's hand on the leash was still holding so tightly, that the dog's great leap down pushed the man off his balance and he fell precisely as Biscuit ran around him, tangling its owner in the leather leash. Aaron, who was standing as close as he felt comfortable to next to Robert, just in case his help would be needed, ended up also caught up between the dog, its owner and the leash connecting them. That's how, within less than a second, they were all a messy heap of entangled organs on the ground.

Robert groans at the discomfort and Aaron wants to ask whether he's ok. A part of him also fears this will be the sort of incident that would push an owner to give their pet away. He's lucky to not have had that with his own clients so far, but when he was studying to be a trainer, he did see such cases. Just as Aaron looks at Robert, seeing a hint of that sort of irritation on the handsome face next to him, Biscuit suddenly and with what was quickly turning out to be its trademark enthusiasm, starts licking the side of its owner's face. Aaron's heart skips a beat. This is the kind of moment when a lot of the frustrated people he had witnessed would feel things have gone too far. Not only were they humiliated by their own ineptitude at handling their animals, but a playful move like that would be interpreted by them as mockery. Their faces would further darken and the poor pet's fate was sealed.

Robert's doesn't. Instead, some of the tension he's been carrying seems to melt away and he laughs wholeheartedly. "He's a bit of a manipulator, isn't he?" he asks Aaron. "He knows something went wrong, but still wants his finger snaps?" The high cheekbones really pop out with his laughter and his whole face shines like a sun coming out from behind the clouds. Were those freckles always there? They're like a highlight of everything that's ridiculously attractive about the guy.

"Probably," Aaron can't help but smile at the pair of them and a second later, Biscuit runs over to him, to lick his face too. "Alright, you. You're not getting out of this, I'm not out of ideas yet. If the beams were too challenging, we can try to just take him for a run around the dirt path that surrounds this area. Should be safer for our backsides, too."

Robert laughs and they start untangling themselves, each helping the other with something. They try a few more things, but don't encounter more success than before. Every idea Aaron comes up with, something goes wrong with Robert's implementation of it. His tension never fully goes away, but eventually Aaron has to admit to himself that he is out of ideas on how to change the course this training relationship has taken.

A short while later, he has to announce it. "Our time's up, I'm afraid."

Robert looks at him with more apprehension than he started with. Then he suddenly straightens himself, like he's trying to reassure himself things aren't that scary. "Right, I know what you're going to say. This is just the first session and I need to keep at it, it's a process, it takes time, I'll get better at this during our next meetings…"

"Nah, mate. You're rubbish at this. Quite possibly the worst dog training material I've ever seen. You're not likely to get better at this any time soon and if I promised you more training sessions, I'd just be robbing you blind."

"Well. Cheers for that." Robert's trying to come across as if the words he's been told don't affect him that much, but it's as if all the air's gone out of his body and his face clearly tells of his disappointment, before he lowers his eyes to the ground. He's most definitely stung by the bluntness and thoroughly discouraged.

"You're so bad at this, I figure I'm gonna have to step in and help you out with him myself. And maybe if I'll be around to show you the ropes, some of that will eventually rub off on you. There's just no other solution but for me to take you both on."

Robert looks back up at Aaron with surprise, as well as a little glimmer in his eye. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Aaron shrugs nonchalantly. "Call it what you will, but you are going to compensate me by paying for our first pints at the Woolie tonight." Once Aaron's not Biscuit's trainer, there's no lack of professionality involved when he starts seeing this guy. He allows himself to bite his lip and drop his eyes to the soft pair of lips before him. If there is any indication in Robert's wide grin in response, in the way he closes the distance between them and whispers, "That I can definitely do," before reaching up with his warm hand and connecting them in a kiss, then Aaron definitely deserves a better title than a mere 'dog whisperer', if he does say so himself.