Chapter Text
He’s gotten in way, way too deep, Jack knows. It had started out innocently enough when one full moon he’d stumbled across a crying little girl that couldn’t be more than eight years old sitting outside and who hadn’t been afraid of the wolfish creature approaching her. He’d kept the girl company until her rather attractive father had found her and his actions earned a quick scratch behind the ears once the girl had told her father how ‘the white wolfy-dog’ had watched over her. He’d followed them from a distance for curiosity’s sake to find out more about them. (And not at all because his wolfish brain was hoping for more scratches.)
Kozmotis and Seraphina Pitchiner, as it turned out, made a family of two. Most would probably consider that lacking, but not Jack. When he returned a lot less furry the next day out of concern for the girl to peek inside the window, he’d seen how happy they were. For all the lack of a mother figure, they were probably the happiest family in the neighbourhood.
He should have left it at that and he would have if it weren’t for his werewolf side getting other ideas.
Next full moon had him sitting on the Pitchiner’s porch. Which still was innocent enough and obviously nothing came from Kozmotis walking him around the neighbourhood trying to find his ‘owner’, but the company had been nice. It was more than what he got as a human during the day when nobody cared about some punk kid out on the streets, Kozmotis included. People simply cared more about what they perceived to be a white, large, thin-looking stray dog.
It would have been fine if it had stayed a monthly occurrence when he couldn’t control his wolfy side as well as usual. That was excusable. It was harder to find excuses when he started purposely shifting during the day just so he could walk Seraphina home from school and peeking into their window more and more often. He could argue that it was for her safety because she tended to be wild and reckless. That he’d merely gotten attached to this cute little girl so full of life and by extension her dad. Or he could even just admit to himself that he’s desperate. That he craves the affection they show him and that he’s so unused to. Those could be considered excuses, however flimsy they are.
But now he’s sitting in their living room with tiny arms wrapped around his furry neck while Seraphina pleads with her father and Jack knows he’s gone too far. He’d only meant to bring her home from school again, drop her off by the porch and receive a hug or a pat on the head as usual. It’s not his fault she ushered him inside.
“Can we keep him? Please, please, please?”
He should leave before this gets any worse than it already has.
He doesn’t want to. To his own embarrassment, he wants Kozmotis to say yes.
Being a dog wasn’t bad, he reasons. Most dogs have good lives. At least this way he was part of a family. People he could maybe call his pack. For as long as he could remember, all Jack wanted was to belong. Being a werewolf who lived on the streets didn’t make that easy though. All he had right now was an abandoned building deemed his momentary ‘home’ on the outskirt of the town.
If Kozmotis says yes, he’ll have a better roof over his head and he’ll be well fed. More than that, he’ll have more of their affection and praise. Never mind that he would be a shame to werewolves everywhere. It would be worth it. Maybe it is tricking them a bit, but it can’t be so bad when they like his furry side so much, right? He can pretend to be a dog just fine.
So instead of leaving as he should, he stays where he is watching Kozmotis closely while his tail swishes back and forth slowly.
He’s gotten somewhat familiar with the way Kozmotis’ eyebrows furrow and his mouth does an odd little twist as if he’s fighting the urge to smile while trying to look stern whenever he’s dealing with Seraphina’s pleas. It means he’s likely close to caving and Jack can’t stop himself from hoping despite himself.
“Please, Daddy? He’s been so good, but he’s always alone and always looks so sad, we could make him happy!”
It’s like an unexpected jackknife to the heart and Jack’s not sure whether to curse or bless children for their ability to perceive so much. He wags his tail and turns his head to lick the side of her face, causing a brief giggle before she’s burying her face in the side of his neck. She knows exactly what she’s doing when she continues to turn her head just slightly, peeking past his fur with an innocent eye. Jack couldn’t be more fond of her in that moment if he tried.
“Please?”
The expression on Kozmotis’ face crumbles and it signals his defeat even before he sighs and speaks.
“.... Fine. But he needs a bath and a name.”
The shriek of laughter so near his ear is deafening, but Jack can’t bring himself to care. Seraphina’s excitement is infectious and before he knows it, he’s up on all fours and jumping with her as she bounces up and down on the spot with outstretched arms in an odd little victory dance.
Logically he knows that this isn’t a farce he can keep up forever. He can pretend all he wants, he’ll never be an actual dog or even a wolf. He’s a werewolf and he can’t always control his changes, especially when sleeping. As good as he is at shifting at will, that’s not something he’ll ever be able to teach himself. He’s bound to fail.
For now, Jack ignores that voice of reason in the back of his head, celebrating with Seraphina by chasing her around the room while Kozmotis shakes his head at himself. He’ll figure something out. This is a chance for something better for him, as embarrassing and pathetic it may be, and he doesn’t want to lose it so soon.
-
Bath time falls to the more embarrassing side of things though Jack would be lying if he said it wasn’t enjoyable. The strong scent of the baby shampoo in his nostrils is worth enduring for the fingers meticulously kneading his fur, massaging the stuff in. Kozmotis has his sleeves rolled up, revealing nicely toned muscles, and it’s a sight Jack can certainly appreciate. He’d thought of the man and his angular features as handsome from the moment they met, but Kozmotis was quickly moving from ‘rather attractive older guy’ into Hot Dad territory. Probably not the most appropriate thing to think. Then again, nothing about Jack’s current situation could be deemed appropriate so it’s not like it matters. He can enjoy the view (mostly) guilt-free.
Seraphina’s there too, playing with the bubbles and occasionally giving her dad a hand while pondering names out loud.
“Mr. Dog?”
It’s what she’s been calling him so far, at the lack of a proper name to call him. Kozmotis hums low in his throat in thought, making Jack’s ears twitch toward the pleasant sound.
“I don’t know. Would you want to be called Ms. Girl?”
Seraphina wrinkles her nose endearingly and shakes her head.
“Snowy?”
Cliché. Luckily Kozmotis seems to think so too and even Seraphina herself looks dubious about her own suggestion.
“If we’re going with a winter theme, how about Frost?”
Kozmotis’ suggestion seems like it’ll be the most inoffensive and least embarrassing one so Jack wags his tail in approval. Seraphina appears to catch on because she suddenly grins at him and nods vigorously.
“Frosty!”
Still better than Snowy, he figures.
“Frost it is then.” Kozmotis says with a laugh.
Once rinsed and dried off (while making sure the other two occupants of the bathroom get thoroughly drenched to Seraphina’s delight and Kozmotis’ spluttering protest) Jack’s new ‘owners’ leave to get supplies and dinner, leaving Jack to his own devices with a warning to not get on the furniture.
It’s an opportunity to nose around that he doesn’t hesitate to take. It’s tempting to shift back to human form if only so he can look inside places better, but Jack refrains. He has no idea how long they’re going to take and shifting back and forth is neither a quick nor painless process. Granted, it’s not nearly the painful agony it used to be, the shifting of bones and skin still doesn’t remain a pleasant experience. As good as he’s gotten at shifting at will, it doesn’t speed the transformation up one bit. Plus he doesn’t fancy wandering around the house naked very much either.
Better to stay on the safe side.
A tour through the house alone tells him plenty anyway. From photos and medals he can tell that Kozmotis either is or used to be a military officer of some sort. There’s what appears to be a small memorial table tucked in one corner of the living room that answers the question of where Seraphina’s mother is. A saddening discovery he tries not to linger on.
He doesn’t dare open any doors and thus contents himself with exploring the kitchen before settling down by the couch. He ignores thoughts of how this could be his last chance to back out before any irreparable damage is done, so to speak, and instead waits for Kozmotis and Seraphina to get home.
When they do, the smell of chinese food that wafts in with them is nearly overpowering. It’s distracting enough that he barely pays attention to the blue collar that Seraphina fastens around his neck. Naturally the bowl with dog food that gets set up for him goes ignored in favour of joining the Pitchiners at the dinner table with his best puppy dog eyes.
The look Seraphina shoots between her plate and the wolfish creature sitting on the floor next to her suggests that she’s about to cave almost immediately. She probably would have if it weren’t for her dad speaking up.
“Don’t give him anything, Sera.”
“But—”
“He has his own food.”
Yeah, right. Jack’s not quite ready to sink that low just yet when there’s the option of something more appealing right there. He stays right where he is despite Kozmotis’ attempts to shoo him off. It’s worth it for the pieces of chicken Seraphina slips him whenever her father looks away.
Even better is when, for all his previous disapproval, the moment Seraphina is out of the kitchen, Kozmotis lowers a plate with scraps to the floor reluctantly. Jack makes sure to nudge his hand with a wet nose and whine gratefully before he scarfs it all down. Although he tries to savour it, it’s the best meal he’s had in days and it’s gone within seconds much to Kozmotis’ mild amusement.
With his hunger quelled somewhat, he goes to find Seraphina in the living room, watching TV. When he lays down, she slips off the couch and sits down on the floor next to him, tossing one arm across his shoulders. She’s a small, warm weight leaning against him, tiny fingers playing idly with his fur. Kozmotis joins them soon enough after a shower, settling on the couch, and Jack finds himself feeling a sense of family. It’s a taste of what he’s longed for for so long and it comes with that bittersweet happy-sad feeling that he can’t describe with words.
If he were human, he might have cried. Or done something equally embarrassing.
As it stands, he soaks in the experience. Trying to commit every little detail to memory, from Seraphina’s wild hair tickling his ear whenever she turns her head to the smell of Kozmotis’ shampoo, so he has something to remember when inevitably he has to leave. He doesn’t hold the illusion he can keep this farce up forever.
But for now, the loving company is something he feels he could get used to.
A feeling that only grows stronger when he follows them up the stairs to Kozmotis’ chagrin when it’s Seraphina’s bedtime. He soon discovers that Kozmotis’ voice can be very soothing. A smooth, low timbre as he reads Seraphina a bedtime story. Combined with scratches behind his ear that Seraphina gives him absentmindedly, it’s almost enough to make him nod off.
He could definitely get used to this.
Jack follows Kozmotis around for the rest of the evening, even when he goes to bed. Partly because he’s being cheeky after Kozmotis tried sternly telling him not to get on the couch before realising he was “talking to a dog” and mostly because Jack’s trying to see how much he can get away with. Despite muttered protests, Kozmotis allows him into the bedroom.
What gets a much more notable reaction is when Jack hops onto the bed after Kozmotis slips under the cover.
“No.”
It’s a formidable, stern expression, Jack will give him that. No doubt he’s had plenty of practice with a certain unruly little girl. Unfortunately for him, Jack’s not that easily dissuaded. All it takes is for him to tuck his tail between his legs, flatten his ears and whine pathetically before Kozmotis’ scowl turns into an expression of weary defeat. It’s with an exasperated sigh that he flops down and flaps his hand dismissively at Jack.
“Fine, but stay at the end of the bed.”
A bed is a bed, Jack isn’t going to be picky about it when he hasn’t slept in a proper one for so long and so he takes his victory triumphantly. It’s only after he’s curled up comfortably that he realises the problem a soft cosy bed is going to pose.
Sleeping is dangerous. He could easily shift back and not notice at all if he’s asleep deeply enough. He doesn’t have a way that can help him wake up before Kozmotis does. He’s going to get caught if he stays here, but now that he’s made himself comfortable and Kozmotis has settled, he can’t summon the will to move away. It’s not like he won’t be caught if he sleeps in another place in the house so ultimately it doesn’t matter. He should just avoid deep sleep.
Which isn’t a feasible lasting solution, he’s well aware. Still, it will have to do.
He dozes through the night, the warmth and the rhythmic breaths of the body near him making it difficult not to be lulled into a deeper sleep. He manages not to give in. Somehow.
Morning is announced by a blaring alarm, startling Jack out of a light slumber. He doesn’t budge when Kozmotis slips out of bed and turns it off, immediately going back to feeling drowsy. Not just that, he feels content and that’s something he hasn’t felt in ages. The contentedness is amplified when Kozmotis briefly wanders back to scratch him behind the ears and Jack basks in the feeling. As great as Seraphina’s enthusiastic affection is, Kozmotis really is the one who gives the best ear scratches ever.
Jack’s content to go back to dosing right up until Kozmotis starts stripping out of his pyjamas. His brain screeches to a halt and his eyes widen, staring without meaning to. He gets a prime view of a bare chest, lean muscles and then a toned back as Kozmotis turns. Jack’s brain kickstarts again with the thought ‘oh no he’s really hot’ that’s quickly followed by ‘this is extremely inappropriate’ even for him. He needs to … move or leave though some part of him wants to stay and watch because hot damn, was that a scar?
No. Bad Jack.
He musters enough will to turn around, curling up with his back turned to the ridiculously attractive figure behind him.
It doesn’t really help.
There’s the rustling of fabric behind him and no, no, no, this is too wrong.
Jack bolts off the bed, making a beeline for the door that doesn’t budge when he presses his weight against it. Getting up on his hind legs to open the door isn’t an option because the door has a stupid doorknob that he can’t turn with his paws so he just sits starkly in front of the door, muzzle pressed against the wood.
Kozmotis laughs behind him and that really doesn’t help.
“What, you want out?”
Jack doesn’t move a muscle as he hears Kozmotis’ footsteps behind him, keeping his gaze firmly trained on the grains of wood. If he were human, no doubt he would be flushed with embarrassment right now. He only moves when Kozmotis reaches for the doorknob, shuffling backwards without breaking his intent gaze on the door.
Once it’s opened enough for him to slip through, he doesn’t hesitate for even a second, fleeing downstairs and into Seraphina’s excited embrace as she runs from the living room to greet him.
-
Aside from similar awkward escapades happening whenever Kozmotis decides to strip in Jack’s presence (including the time Kozmotis ignored his pleas to be let out and he ended up attempting to crawl under the bed, getting himself stuck) and discounting the fact that their dog is actually a werewolf pretending to be a dog, life with the Pitchiners is wonderfully ordinary. It’s the kind of ordinary that he’s seen often when glancing through windows and to Jack it’s a novelty to be a part of it. There’s still a hint of guilt that keeps niggling in the back of his mind that he staunchly ignores. It’ll be worth it for the experience, that’s not something that can be taken away from him even if he gets caught and thrown out.
This way he gets to know the family he’s come to care about better.
It turns out that Kozmotis is still very much a military man, just one that’s retired from the action and now does paperwork at home. Which means that he gets to spend a lot of time with the man and lucky for him, Kozmotis happens to like long walks. He also gets to come along whenever Seraphina’s brought to school and picked up. Apparently Seraphina had walked home alone at her own insistence, wanting to be ‘tough and independent’, but now that Jack comes along, she lets her father pick her up from school again. Much to his relief and her classmates’ excitement.
The only time he’s alone is when Kozmotis briefly goes out to do errands. It’s a nice change of pace for once. Not that it’s always convenient. He uses the time that no one’s home to try and catch up on the sleep he’s missing out on at night and more than once has he woken up as a naked human, only barely able to change back to his wolf form in time not to be discovered.
The pretense isn’t going to last.
And it doesn’t.
Jack manages a whole week (a miracle by itself) before he messes it up on Sunday night by actually falling asleep. He’s woken up the next morning not by the usual alarm clock, but a rush of movement jolting him and a sharp click. He stretches himself before sleepily glancing up to the other end of the bed. What he sees shocks him into full alert awareness instantly.
Jack finds himself staring wide-eyed down the barrel of a gun that’s being held by Kozmotis who has a very serious scowl on his face of the likes that Jack hasn’t seen before. It’s frightening as much as it is confusing.
He only realises why the gun and scowl when he glances down and sees skin. Bare skin. He turned back in his sleep and now he’s curled up on the other end of the bed as usual, wearing nothing but the dog collar. Except now he’s a buck ass naked human.
Shit.