Work Text:
Ashton Greymoore didn’t have friends. However, Ashton did have strays he “reluctantly” (read: not reluctantly at all) fed and took care of because he worried they would die in a day if he left them alone. Fresh Cut Grass is one example. Laudna is another. And recently, Ashton felt that sure, fuck it, his life could fit a little more chaos so he decided to volunteer at the local animal shelter to take care of some bona fide strays.
Currently, he was stuck in a glaring match with his most recent foster. Chetney was a salt-and-pepper scottish terrier who had the meanest little glare Ashton had ever seen on a pup. Which was surprising, given that Chetney was also not even a foot tall or a year old and so had no business looking like a feral king of the hunt. Also surprising was the fact that Chetney had massive chompers for his size and a deep growl that, if Ashton was honest, fucking terrified him at times.
That same rumbling growl greeted him as Chetney stared up at Ashton from his cage. His beady black eyes were hidden behind fur.
Ashton bent down to poke at Chetney’s snout. If the angry yelp was any indication, he’s certain the dog would have bitten his finger off if Chetney hadn’t tumbled backward in his cage. “Will you be nice to me just this once, you bastard? Some sad sack’s gonna take you away today, and then you’ll be free to go wreak havoc on their furniture. Enjoy. Feast.”
“I take it you’re the one he gets his bad habits from?”
Ashton’s head whipped back in surprise, and the first thing he saw was a pair of seafoam green eyes crinkled softly at the edges. The man that stood before him was pretty, no doubt, but between the veins that marked his forearms like mountain ridges and the musical note of his laughter, Ashton couldn’t help but think he was ethereal. Fae, maybe.
He didn’t know how long he stared, exactly. He was only aware of the panicked and angry yelling in his head that told him to stop staring to no avail. But apparently, his hand had drifted low enough that it was easy pickings for Chetney. Ashton had enough presence of mind to feel the fur tickle his hand before the dog clamped his teeth fully down.
“Fucking - OW!” He yelled, feeling the spell break as he finally turned away from those bewitching eyes. Embarrassed and indignant all at once, Ashton tried to wriggle his hand free in the coolest way possible. Sadly, there was absolutely no cool and aloof way to continue flirting with the pretty stranger while a puppy chewed on his hand like it was a teething ring.
“Bad habits? Me?” If his voice squeaked, he blamed it on the pain. “When he’s the one who descended from the Nine Hells?”
The other man’s laughter grew louder but never meaner. Ashton would know if it did. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” he said as he swiped a tear away. “I’m Orym, by the way. Maybe it means he likes you?”
“Ashton. And that’s a damn weird way to show affection, Orym.” Despite himself and his situation, Ashton smiled back. He rubbed at his hand once he finally managed to pry Chetney’s fangs loose. “Do you bite the people you like?”
Orym’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe,” was all he said in response and Ashton didn’t know what the fuck he ought to do with that.
He settled for deflecting and talking his ass off. “And after I sacrificed my favorite jacket to potty train him too! His new owners ought to thank me for saving them the trouble of having to hunt for piss puddles in their closet.”
“Well, thank you for your valiant effort.” There was something about Orym’s tone of voice. Ashton knew it was teasing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to mind. Orym’s voice was light and boyish and it made Ashton want to tease him back.
Ashton tilted his head. “You’re the one adopting him?”
“Yup.”
Ashton’s face scrunched up, and he pointed at the dog who hadn’t stopped yapping their entire conversation. “Him?”
“Yuuup.” Orym popped the ‘p’ sound this time, so naturally, Ashton would be drawn to his lips. Naturally.
Ashton picked Chetney up by the scruff and held him towards the other man. “This hellhound? Are you sure?”
Orym laughed again and Ashton watched as he reached forward to carry Chetney in his arms. The little bastard, the traitor, licked up at Orym’s face so sweetly. Chetney looked pretty content (and smug, could dogs look smug?) to be cradled. He even buried his nose against the crook of the man’s neck.
Personally, Ashton felt like a puppet, his attention pulled this way and that by an invisible force that caused him to note every detail of Orym’s appearance. Did he need to know Orym had a well-defined collarbone? No, but he’s sure got a good idea of it now.
“Don’t you think he’s cute?” Orym asked with a little upward quirk of his mouth. He rubbed his cheek against Chetney’s and smiled down at the dog.
“Well, fuck me.” Anyone else, Ashton would have cautioned them against putting any body part that close to Chet’s maw right after meeting him, but the little pup was calm as a still breeze. “I think he’s a menace, but apparently not for you. You some kinda dog whisperer, Orym?”
Orym shook his head and sheepishly looked down. “No, I had a dog growing up, but you’re still the expert here.” Before Ashton could argue, could tell him that Chetney was the real mastermind, who slept in his bed and kicked Ashton in the face while he dreamt his puppy dreams, Orym spoke again. “Tell you what, if he’s as much a handful as you say, why don’t you come visit sometime once the papers are done? Help him get settled?”
Ashton could feel his jaw drop. “What, like co-parenting furdads?”
“Unless you’re busy, of course.” Orym was shy. Ashton didn’t peg Orym as someone who would be shy.
“No, yeah, that sounds cool.” Great, Ashton meant to say. Fucking fantastic. Ashton could kiss Chetney on the forehead if the furry little monster wasn’t already napping away in Orym’s arms.
“Great!” Orym shined like the sun and Ashton was blinded. “I’ve got to go fix his papers with the other volunteers, but I’ll come back and give you my details after.” He bit his lip as if gathering courage. “I look forward to seeing you around, Ash.”
Orym shot Ashton a mischievous smirk and walked off, puppy and all. Ashton followed his figure as he disappeared into the next room. “Fuck, you’re gonna be a menace too, aren’t ya,” he grumbled, rubbing a hand exasperatedly across his face.