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Sam blinked his eyes open blearily when the mattress shifted next to him. The first thing that he noticed was that he had apparently missed his alarm. There was entirely too much sunlight in the bedroom for it to be any earlier than mid-morning. The second thing that came to him was an odd whining noise coming from just beyond his line of sleep-confused sight. He shifted groggily against his pillow and jerked when the whining turned into a warm wetness against his cheek.
“What? Hello dog,” he muttered and blinked rapidly until the small face of a puppy became clear, ears perked and head cocked curiously to the side as though surprised by Sam’s sudden semi-alertness. “Steve, there’s a dog in our bed,” he mumbled blankly.
He could hear Steve’s quiet snort of amusement, “Yes, Sam, there’s a dog in our bed.”
“Why?” he asked in confusion. Sam wasn’t nearly awake enough for this sort of complicated thought process. He slowly pushed himself to sit upright, shoving his pillow further up and leaning back against the headboard. A small smile crept unbidden as he carefully lifted the squirming puppy from the mattress and settled her onto his lap, laughing softly when tiny teeth latched playfully onto his hand.
Steve settled onto the bed beside him, shoulders brushing against Sam’s as he shuffled closer. “She’s yours,” he said with a small smile.
“Mine, huh?” Sam said in surprise.
“Happy Birthday sweetheart,” Steve grinned.
Sam blinked in confusion again at the words and then huffed a small laugh in realisation. That explained the alarm. Steve must have turned it off to let him sleep in. Sam leaned further into Steve, stretching slightly despite the awkward angle for a kiss.
“The shelter said that they think she’s just over ten weeks old,” Steve said with a small smile as he settled back. “She was found dumped off in an alley a couple of weeks ago and they didn’t think that they were going to be able to find a good home for her. But when I met her, she had so much personality for such a tiny thing.”
“Kindred spirit?” Sam asked with a small smirk that turned into a grin when Steve elbowed him playfully. “What’s her name?”
“Don’t know,” Steve shrugged with a shy smile. “Thought you might want to do the honors.”
“Oh,” Sam said and then smiled, scooping the tiny puppy up with a careful hand under her belly. “Come here, pretty girl, lemme get a look at you.” She really was a tiny little thing even for only being ten weeks old. He couldn’t help the grin as she wiggled in his grip, twisting her little body until she could gnaw on his thumb.
“She’s pit?” he asked curiously despite the fact that it was pretty obviously the case. Her features were undeniably pitbull, if a bit minituraized. Soft, almost fuzzy, grey coat that he had no doubt would be nice and sleek once she grew into it and pretty blue eyes. Thankfully, he noted, her ears and tail were fully intact too. He shifted his hold until he could lay her back cradled in his opposite arm, letting his fingers tickle lightly over her belly.
“Yeah,” Steve said and Sam pulled his gaze from the puppy to meet Steve’s at the oddly wary note lacing the word. Steve shifted slightly and eyed Sam somewhat defensively, “I did some research before getting her for you and I-I know that they’re not really the most popular breeds these days but--.”
“That’s not why I was asking,” Sam interrupted before Steve could get on a roll in defense of pitbulls that would undoubtedly spiral into a venting session about the unfairness of banning dog breeds. He lifted the arm still carefully cradling the puppy until she was almost at face level, grinning at the happy puppy kisses on his cheek, “I mean look at her. Does this look like a terrifying dog to you? Nah, she’s sugar sweet, can tell already.”
Steve huffed a short, relieved laugh and nodded, “Yeah she’s a pitbull.”
“And someone just left you in an alley huh?” Sam said, speaking softly to the dog. “Assholes. But that’s okay, this one got picked up out of allies before too from what I hear.” Sam shot a grin to Steve who rolled his eyes in amusement but didn’t offer any sort of rebuttal.
“So what are you gonna name her?” Steve asked curiously.
“Don’t rush me,” Sam scolded playfully. “It’s a process.”
“You said that she was sugar sweet,” Steve said thoughtfully. “What about that? Sugar?”
Sam considered it briefly and then shook his head in disagreement, “Nah that doesn't suit her.”
Steve chuckled but tilted in to press a kiss to the side of Sam’s head, “I’ll let you think it over while I get breakfast.”
“You’re not cooking are you?” Sam asked, eyes narrowing immediately in concern.
“No, I got it while I was out picking her up,” Steve huffed. “Just thought she would make an even better wake up call than coffee so it’s still in the kitchen.”
“Uh huh,” Sam said disbelievingly with a smirk. Steve shook his head in amusement and pushed off the bed. Sam watched fondly as he left the room and then dropped his attention back down to the puppy. “What are we gonna call you, huh?”
Unsurprisingly, the dog didn’t answer with anything more than a big yawn, seemingly content with snuggling further into Sam’s hold. He smiled at the sight, “Yeah, you go ahead and nap little girl, we’ll figure something out.”
“What about--” Steve started as he reentered the bedroom with his hands full of a tray loaded with breakfast enough for the both of them only to wince when Sam shot him a glare. He eyed the napping puppy with soft amusement before shifting his gaze to smirk affectionately at Sam. “What about Bell?” He continued in a softer tone.
Sam considered it briefly, letting the name roll around in his mind but shook his head in the negative. Steve just smiled and shrugged, “You’ll figure something out.”
The day progressed, alternating between Steve seemingly doing his absolute best to spoil Sam rotten and throwing out increasingly ridiculous potential name suggestions for the new puppy. Seriously, why would anyone want to name that sweet girl Mouse? There was nothing mousy about her. He was fairly certain that Steve was just messing with him by that point, seeing what sort of reactions he could get.
By the time dinner arrived, take-out from the Vietnamese place Sam loved--Steve really was trying his hardest to spoil him today, wasn’t he?--Steve’s attempts had reached new levels of endearingly strange. Fruits, colors, a couple names of women he knew growing up. While they hadn’t found a name for her just yet, they had succeeded in having an amusingly enjoyable day so Sam didn’t even bother with trying to feel annoyed.
“What about Turnip?” Steve said suddenly from beside him on the couch, right as Sam was attempting to swallow a mouthful of food. Sam attempted to glare through his laughter as he forced down the food while Steve just grinned unrepentantly.
Sam took a quick drink of his water to soothe his throat and shook his head. “Steve, honey, I love you but you gotta stop that,” he said, words belied by the laughter that he still couldn’t seem to settle.
“There’s an idea,” Steve said thoughtfully, glancing over to where the puppy was, once again, napping and then back to Sam.
“What’s an idea?” Sam asked wearily, preparing himself for another round of ridiculous naming attempts.
“What about Honey?” Steve asked, hesitantly but more seriously than any of the earlier suggestions had been.
“Honey, huh?” Sam tilted his head consideringly. He eyed Steve and felt a rush of affection for the man, not unusual considering that he had been long gone over the man for longer than he suspected Steve even knew. He smiled slowly, “Lookin’ to share your name, honey?”
Steve shrugged almost bashfully, “I think I can manage.”
Sam’s smile spread to a grin and he leaned in, kissing Steve slow and sweet breaking it off gently before it could spiral into something more. That would come later. “Alright, yeah. Honey suits her,” Sam agreed.