Work Text:
“Look at all the spots on this one! Oh and this one has just the cutest little nose. Holy wow they are all so perfect who the heck fathered these pups? Doggy Enrique Iglesias. Ay you are muy guapo.” The guy pulls the little brown-eyes monster to his chest and covers him with kisses and I wince at the whine that comes from the four other pups scattered around my legs. A whine from the puppies that echoes into a small coo from the guy sitting in the middle of my living room.
The guy, Marco, had sunk down on his knees the second he’d stepped over the plastic fencing that kept the puppies from making a mess too far into the house. I prayed that he hadn’t sat down into a pile of piss or baby puppy vomit or shit and demanded dry cleaning but the smile radiating his white teeth even brighter meant I was in the clear for now.
The squeal he’d let out at the mere sight of the five little monsters would have probably ruptured an ear drum if he’d been any closer than he was but the thought of paying for a doggy mishap was exactly why I needed to get rid of the pups.
My little Sasha, my poor little baby girl, had one day decided that a little field trip around the neighborhood was due and the day trip had very soon led to an angry Eren Jaeger rapping at my door with Sasha in tow yelling something about keeping my “bitch in check”. Something along those line. Details still unclear considering the amount of time it took to wash up the blood from a certain stump-head’s nose and wrapping my sore fist after slamming the door in the guy’s face. It had been a great affair. A love affair between my precious Sasha and the mutt across the street by the name of Connie or Connor or something ridiculously American-sounding.
In the end I became a grandfather of five little bastards with no way of handling them in my small little townhouse. Living off the city meant restricted space and the five monsters required at least twenty square feet each to be considered comfortable and that was just something I couldn’t supply without knocking down walls and opening my front and back yards. It wasn’t like I hated them really. It was just a lot and the amount of piss they accumulated in their small little bodies was ridiculous.
“How old are they? This one’s stumbling around like he just got his eyes last week.”
Snapping back into reality and finding myself still standing on the other side of the little playpen under the arch leading into the living room. I clear my throat and shift in my place as Marco trails his fingers through the little baby’s fur. “About to be two months. In uh… two days actually.”
“Oh that’s precious. They’re so cute! I’m really glad I went to the flea market with Krista that day and saw your flyers because these things are exactly what we needed are so ridiculously adorable. Are these all the babies momma had?”
I rub a hand behind my neck as I stare at the way Marco’s hands flit from one dog to the other. He hasn’t looked up from the things since he set foot inside the living room and the pretty pink blush on his cheeks from the overexcitement, overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by pups was kind of cute. I can feel the warmth flooding up my face and I turn away before Marco can see how I blush like a bride on her wedding day and find Sasha quietly laying on the couch.
“Yeah. Thankfully the dog that knocked up Sasha had a low tolerance or I probably would’ve been panicking around handing flyers to kids to find these things a home.”
Marco finally looks up at me, confusion written all over his face as he tilts his head to the side with a look of question on his face. “Tolerance?”
The red flush floods my neck and my ears burn as I stutter for a second. Shit. Am I about to give this guy “the talk: puppy edition”? He looks older than me, what the fuck?
“Uh…yeah. Like he didn’t last very long and his pull out game is pretty weak but so is his counts apparently. Probably has something to do with what Jaeger feeds the boy.” I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, nervous to how Marco is going to react to the nonsense I just spewed out of my mouth. I sounded like an idiot. A pervy idiot that needs to get out of the house. My hand automatically goes up to rub at the nape of my neck as I watch Marco consider what I just said, his own eyes flickering up and down my face. I don’t know what he’s looking for but holy shit can the guy be any less gorgeous with his stupid glasses framing his perfect brown eyes like Adonis.
Realization hits Marco like a bullet train as his frown turns to make a low “ohh” sound and puckers his lips like a bad impersonation of a teenager making the duck face. God is this guy even real.
“Well he helped make some cute babies so I’ll have to go over and see him someday to thank the guy.”
“Right.”
A silence falls between us and Marco soaks it all up in the guise of the five sets of paws padding around him on the hardwood floor; his entire being visibly giddy and excited from the puppies. He hums quietly to himself, a song that I feel like I’ve heard but can’t out a name on, and continues to pet and spoil the little thing with love while I stand there, just looking.
It feels awkward after a while, me just hovering and watching over like some lithe, pale as fuck God so I step over the plastic fence and am immediately attacked by the sounds of feet. Little yips and howls around my legs as they recognize my scent. They run themselves around my legs as I try to find a dry spot to plop down on. The only spot I find is right next to Marco and with a bit of maneuvering and picking up a little brown pup, I sit down can hit knees with the guy. Marco’s way too distracted, though, by the wiggling mess in my lap to pay heed to how his knee slides against mine but the pressure doesn’t escape me as I try to keep my focus on puppy #3 as I like to call him.
Naming them so early on was down to become a big mess once it was time for them to move on to a better, happier family, so I kept myself at bay and referred them as the number they squished their way out of their mother. Sasha would probably lay a beat down on me for doing that but thankfully she was a dog and a tired one at that.
The little ball of energy is lapping up all the attention like fresh milk and before he has a chance to mark his territory on my lap from the excitement of Marco’s hands all over his body, I set him back down between us.
“This one has the cutest little spots on his ears,” he says before turning and leaning over to give the puppy all his attention. “Mama is going to love you.” His voice is pretty close to my ear even as he shifts his weight on his thigh that’s gone from sitting quietly to rubbing against mine making me very aware to the feeling of my jeans against the legs.
I blush for a hot second before his words actually register in my head. I play nonchalant but the hitch in my voice from being too close to his sweet lavender-scented detergent does it for me and I keep my eyes trained at the puppy trying to suckle at one of my fingers.
“So is this ‘Mama’ your girlfriend or something?” There’s a blatant hope that that something wasn’t going to be a wife but I keep quiet and still as Marco shifts next to me – his legs sliding a little further away to give him space to turn to me. I don’t turn to meet him halfway, instead acknowledging his attention with a shrug of my shoulder.
“Hm? Oh Krista? No way, I wish. No she’s being the perfect girlfriend every man dreamed of in kindergarten for Ymir.”
‘Ymir?”
“Yup. My cousin-sister. She’s a little rough around the edges but Krista and I agreed a little furball of love would do her a world of good. It’s why I jumped so quickly to come look at your puppies.”
“That’s really nice of you. I-I mean to, you know, care so much about your cousin.”
“Well her and Krista are pretty much all I have so it’s worth any little bit of trouble.”
“You don’t have anyone? Like I don’t mean to snoop but you have to have someone?” The question honestly comes out of genuine curiosity. Making small talk as Marco continues to assess each and every one of the puppies that make the journey to meet Marco. No personal motivation. I mean the guy was a catch and was really good with handling puppies. How could anyone not – well, pick him up?
Marco’s staring up at me. I can feel it on the side of my face but like hell was I going to look up into his wide brown eyes. I didn’t have a death wish. “Not really, no. never seem to have the time around my hours. People are pretty high-maintenance.”
“So are puppies. If not more.”
“Yeah but puppies won’t wake up one day and tell you they don’t love you anymore.”
A quiet fills the room almost immediately. The cool summer air coming from the open window too stuffy for my taste and lugs as I try to think of something to say.
“Um. Well-”
“I’m sorry. That was stupid of me to say. You don’t care about that.” He pauses for a second, his hands mechanical over the puppy in front of him. The smile he shoots back up at me feels plastered together, fake compared to the one I was used to seeing in this short hour of knowing the guy. “So tell me, how much you need for two of these little things?”
The temptation to run with the distraction and move past that small moment of weakness from Marco was laid out in front of me. Ready to be swept away like a princess from the highest tower. But it didn’t feel right – letting it go didn’t feel like the right thing to do.
“Marco. If you want we can talk a-”
“No that’s okay. I’m fine really. I should probably get going soon anyway. I’ve taken way too much of your time already.”
“You’re fine, Marco. I know how family is. You can’t always tell them the more personal things. That’s why I – a total stranger you’ve known for an hour – is here to listen.”
“I don’t think…”
“Okay, well how about this? Pick your pups and see if your cousin absolutely loves them and we can meet tomorrow for lunch or something to talk money logistics and other things.”
Marco blanches for a second and I do too – internally questioning where I even got the balls to ask Marco to lunch – until I see the sweet smile slide slowly across his face. His smile reaching straight to his eyes and he looks like one of the puppies around our feet. He’s quieter now when he talks, an uncertainty laced in his voice as he looks up at me. “Or you can come and see them for yourself. You can bring Sasha over there with you. And then we can go out and do the talking thing.”
I can feel my hands sweating like crazy – a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar – but it’s a nice rush as I look up at Marco and smile stupidly at him. “Sounds like a plan.”
With that Marco stands up, his hands grabbing at puppy #3 and the little black mess of fur known fondly as #1 and I follow him as he steps over the fencing. The puppies still stuck behind the plastic whine as their new friend leaves with two of their brothers but Marco leans down and coos at them, telling them he’ll bring them back for visits all the time. I hang back and watch as the puppies Marco’s holding lick the tips of his fingers and their siblings’ faces before digging themselves into the strong hold Marco has on them.
Marco turns back to me and the arms I had folded over my chest drop and dig into my pockets and Marco chuckles as I smile sheepishly at him. “Do you have a piece of paper I can write my contacts on?”
I spaz for a second and rush towards the kitchen after yelling back a “YES”, startling old Sasha from her nap. I pat her head as I make my way back to the living room where Marco is slipping on his shoes while the puppies sit quietly and attentive to their new owner on the sofa cushion. “Wow. They really listen to you, huh?”
“Just got a way with the babies. It’s what my mom always said.” He turns his head to look down at the puppies, their heads nodding off in sleepiness. He turns back to me with a smile and I try not to avert my eyes as he talks to me. “The kids always love me and I’m great with babies. It’s in the blood.”
Oh Jesus Christ in a cornfield. The flashes of domesticity with senior freckles over here is going to give me an aneurysm.
He grabs the paper and pen from my hands, his fingers grazing my own for a second before he looks down at his lap and scribbles away, unknowing to the deep red that was probably setting on my face.
“Here ya go.” And with a small grunt of effort that shifts the couch and startles the puppies for a second, Marco takes them in his arms and makes his way towards the door with me following close behind. “I should get going now. So I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
His smile is so genuine, the whites of his teeth such a deep contrast with the dark tones of his skin and the browns of his irises. The freckles stand so prominent on his cheeks and down the collar of his shirt. It’s captivating and I could drown myself in them for years if given the chance. How the hell did I go from angry, bitter monk to a lovestruck puppy in an hour was a question I’d be asking myself for a long time. “Yeah. Yup. Definitely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds great, Jean.”
Shutting the door and leaning my back against the hard wood I feel like a teenager who just got her first secret admirer letter. Shot in the heart with Cupid’s arrow with no chance of coming out of this alive. My hand fists the paper with Marco’s contacts and I look over it as I wait for the sound of Marco’s car pulling out of the driveway and down the street.
The tiny heart replacing the 0’s in his phone number practically send me seizing into the nth dimension as I stupidly smile to myself.