Archive of Our Own

Keith’s almost halfway through his 24oz iced coffee, but it’s not enough to keep a grimace at bay when the phone rings. There’s a reason he doesn’t do front desk. Well, many reasons, most of them having to do with chirpy customer service skills he didn’t inherit from his dad, but Lance had car trouble this morning and Keith was forced to cover.

Kosmo lifts his head, nose pointed towards the still-ringing phone, and Keith pats the wolfhound’s shaggy neck as he picks it up. “Dogstar Canine Academy and Daycare.”

While the human customers aren’t always easy to deal with, the four-legged variety comes easy to Keith. It’s not surprising, considering how their entire family business owes its existence to the chance meeting of his parents in a vet clinic’s office. His mom had trained as a vet tech and it was her first week on the job, and his father came rushing in with an injured dog he’d found by the side of the road.

Six months later, a fully healed Red had trotted up the aisle carrying a pillow with two rings sewn on.

“Dogs,” his mom liked to say, “know what we need before we do.”

Keith doesn’t disagree, but if Kosmo could learn how to answer phones and take reservations, it would definitely help.

“Right. Yes. I’m sure that, uh, Griffin is very smart. We don’t have a canine MENSA program at this time, however. We do have nose work classes, though, if you’re interested in that.”

While the woman on the phone regales Keith with another story of Griffin’s gifted behavior, Keith inhales more coffee and checks their schedule. He was supposed to be booked through this morning with three shepherd puppy siblings, but one came down with kennel cough and they all had to cancel.

The chime over the front door sounds and Lance staggers in with a delivery box, slamming it on the counter. “FedEx was outside, didn’t you see them?” he pants, nearly knocking over Keith’s coffee. “Oh my god, they have you taking calls? We’ll be out of business by lunch.”

Keith glares, pointing at the phone before he moves his cup. “Right. Yes. We’ll be sure to email you all our options.” He hangs up the phone before scrubbing his hand over his face. “Fuck. I didn’t get her email.”

“You said the dog’s name was Griffin? Probably Mrs. Iddings. She calls at the beginning of every month to find out about our new classes. She’s on the mailing list already.” Lance collapses into the other desk chair. “The light came on on my dash and you’ll never believe what it was for.”

“You needed to top up your oil,” Keith says.

Lance gapes. “How did you know?”

“Because you don’t know shit about cars.”

“My girl Blue is the pride of my life. How dare you.”

Keith can’t help but laugh at Lance’s deadpan delivery. “You’re just lucky the shepherd triplets canceled or I wouldn’t have been here to bail out your ass.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t email anyone.”

“What’s wrong with the way I email?”

“You lack a certain, well, subtlety. By that, I mean diplomacy. And by that, I mean tact.” Lance reaches over and removes the wireless keyboard from in front of Keith. “Our customers are spending a lot of money on their precious pups and if I wasn’t here to charm them from the start, well, you don’t need an MBA to figure out what would happen next.”

Keith tips his head back, sipping his coffee. “Your humility is an example to us all.” He scratches behind Kosmo’s ears, earning a pleased snuffling sound from the wolfhound.

“It’s a heavy burden, but I carry it with grace.” Lance rearranges the desk until he’s satisfied and then picks up two sticky notes with Keith’s scrawled handwriting on them. “I thought we were friends, man. You couldn’t use the call log?”

“It’s two notes and you told us all to never touch your precious call log.”

“I never said that! I’m literally the administrative keystone of this entire operation and you—“ Lance stops and stands as the chime over the door sounds, his voice immediately shifting from grating to pleasant over the sound of approaching footsteps. “Good morning!”

Keith doesn’t bother to look up and instead picks up his phone, scrolling through his notifications. The video he made last week of training an anxious, retired greyhound has gotten more attention than he expected. Most of the comments are sweet, and he’s glad he can help raise awareness about positive reinforcement and canine care.

He’s not thrilled with the comments about his ass or asking if he’s single, but he puts up with the discomfort because since he started his channel, his family business has seen a significant uptick. It means he’s now working two jobs, trainer and content creator, but after everything his parents have given him, it seems a small price to pay.

He’s in the middle of responding to a comment when he hears his name.

“Oh, you saw a video with Keith? He is going lowkey viral these days. He’s usually booked for weeks, but you got lucky this morning. He’s had a cancellation and he can meet with you right now.” Lance tilts his head. “Keith, you wanna stand up and meet Mr. Shirogane?”

He puts his phone down and looks up to see what has got to be the most attractive person he’s ever seen in his life. Dark hair falls across his forehead in a swoop blazed with white, and his fitted jeans and gray henley emphasize his narrow waist and broad shoulders.

“Oh, um, it’s technically Dr. now, not that it matters,” the man says, a blush faintly rising on his cheeks, “but please, call me Shiro.”

Keith rises to his feet, ready to offer his hand, but he notices the pinned-up sleeve of Shiro’s shirt just in time and manages to switch to his other hand. “Great to meet you, Shiro. I’m Keith Kogane, one of the trainers here.”

Lance raises one eyebrow at Keith. “Shiro was just telling me about his rescue pup, Atlas. Sounds like they could use your help. He’s going for the Galaxy package.”

The Galaxy package is their top of the line training program. It’s the most expensive, but it offers more access to training sessions, one on ones, and on-call services. Keith can only take a few Galaxy clients at a time, and he could have sworn there were a few people on the waiting list for it. He wonders what exactly moved Lance to allow Shiro the slot, but he’ll have to find out later.

“Of course. We’ll do our best to help you and Atlas.” Keith steps out from behind the desk. “Is Atlas with you or–”

Keith follows Shiro’s gaze down to the floor, where a trembling Atlas crouches between his legs. She looks young, but she’s underweight, so it’s hard to guess exactly how old she is. “Hi, sweetheart,” Keith says, not taking another step towards them. “What a beautiful girl.”

Shiro bends down and scratches around her ears, and instantly, she leans into his touch. There’s no question there’s trust between them. “At home, she’s a lot more relaxed, but if I try to take her anywhere, she gets really afraid. Sorry, she’s panting, do you have any water? I left her bottle in the car.”

“Of course.” Keith tilts his head towards the hallway. “Will she come with us if we step into one of the consultation rooms? All we’re going to do is talk today. Just you and me and her.”

Shiro nods, his expression tight. “I think so? She doesn’t really warm up to strangers at all, but she hasn’t ever been aggressive. She just, kind of, shuts down?” He smooths his hand over her head, speaking softly to her. “You wanna come with me? We’re just gonna go sit down the hall. We’ll get you some water and maybe a treat, yeah?”

Atlas rises up and shakes herself, leaning against Shiro’s calf before they start walking. Tripod dog, Keith realizes. He couldn’t see when she was lying down that her left hind leg was missing.

“Right this way,” Keith says, leading them back to one of the consultation rooms. He likes to have a chance to observe dogs and their owners in spaces that are closer to a home environment, so instead of a desk and office furniture, the room is cozy, outfitted with armchairs and a low-pile carpet. “Have a seat.” Keith pulls back his armchair to make sure there’s plenty of space for Atlas. “There’s water on the floor right there, and there’s a container of treats on the end table if you think she’d want any.”

It’s always interesting to watch how people and their dogs come into a space. Sometimes people tug on leashes, which makes Keith bonkers, or don’t pay much attention to where their dog goes once inside. Shiro, however, encourages Atlas to get a drink and then settles himself into the chair, opening his knees so that Atlas can plant herself between them. She does, but not before shoving half of her body under the armchair.

“She likes to always be right here,” he says, gesturing at his legs. “If we were home, she’d probably be in my lap. She thinks she’s tinier than she is.” Atlas hunkers down, scrunching herself between his calves until she’s settled and puts her head on Shiro’s sneaker.

Keith picks up the tablet next to his chair, bringing up Shiro’s file. He scans over the information Lance entered. “So you adopted Atlas about three months ago from Kerberos Avenue Shelter?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of his jeans over his knee. “I was just going to look.” He gives a soft laugh. “Classic story, I know. One of my friends, Hunk, volunteers there and the truth is I was originally thinking about a cat, but I saw Atlas through the window where one of the workers was struggling to get her to walk in the garden, and I just had to meet her.” He leans down and pets Atlas’s head. “Hunk didn’t think she’d even come close to me, but as soon as I walked outside, she trotted up to me like she knew me. It threw everyone for a loop. Needless to say, she came home with me.”

“It’s easy to see how bonded she is to you,” Keith says, adding a few details to the file. “So the shelter thought she was about a year old. Did she have surgery when she came to the shelter, or was that before?”

Shiro’s mouth tightens. “She was a hit and run. Some kind person saw it happen and was able to get her to a vet hospital. Kerberos had her for about a month while she recovered before I adopted her.”

They talk a bit more about Altas’s habits, her eating (still working on finding a food she reliably likes), her sleeping (she hated the crate so she’s in Shiro’s bed every night), her playing (still isn’t quite sure about fetch but will use a licking mat). There’s no question that Shiro’s gone above and beyond with her care. He’s worked with her vet already to try to manage some of her medical issues, sparing no expense to get her what she needs. The Galaxy package alone would have suggested it, but it’s clear from the way Shiro talks about Atlas that to him, she’s family.

“I’m really impressed with everything you’ve done,” Keith says, giving Shiro top scores on his intake form. “For a first-timer, you’ve taken on a complex situation with Atlas and have handled the challenges with a lot of patience and care. You’re really a dream client.” He scans over the form, realizing he forgot to ask a question. “Sorry, one other thing. Is there anyone else in the home with you? Or someone you’re with regularly? Partner or a child?”

Shiro shakes his head. “Just me and Atlas.”

It’s surprising to Keith that someone as, well, frankly stunning and kind as Shiro would not have a partner, but Keith shoves the thought aside. Plenty of attractive and sweet people don’t have partners for lots of reasons. Keith hasn’t been on a date since his first year of college and it was such an unmitigated disaster that he decided dating wasn’t for him, so he’s not exactly one to talk.

“A dynamic duo. Okay, so let’s talk about your goals. Obviously Atlas has had some trauma and issues with fear and anxiety. What would you like her to be able to do that she can’t right now?”

Shiro shifts in his seat and Atlas looks up, watching him carefully until she settles her head back on his shoelaces. “I’ve been on disability for the last six months, but I’m hoping to go back to work. Well, I guess go to work. Technically I was offered the job right before I got hurt, so they’ve actually held a spot for me during my recovery. I’m going to teach at Altea University this fall, and I was hoping maybe I could get Atlas approved as my emotional support animal, but we’d have to work on her comfort level with being around, you know, anyone who’s not me. She’s really scared of other dogs and there are some service animals on campus, too, so there’s that.”

“Okay.” Keith taps out some notes, already formulating some training ideas. “So we’ve got some work ahead, but I can see how committed you are. The trust she has in you already will help us significantly.”

“You think you’ll be able to help her?” Shiro sounds slightly wary, like he’s afraid to ask the question. “I know she’s been through so much. I don’t want to push her unfairly, you know?”

“Oh, I know we can help her if we work together. You’ve given her safety and love. What I’m hoping we can work on is her confidence.” Keith rises to his feet, giving him a smile. “And maybe yours, too.”

Shiro’s mouth twitches. “My confidence?”

“Dogs take their cues from us. She knows you’re afraid this might not work and you’re still sizing me up.” Keith rakes a hand through his hair, debating about how honest he should be. He decides to take a chance. “I know I just met you, but I can tell you what I see. She doesn’t know what you’ve been through, but she senses your fear. We’ll need to work on yours, too.”

Shiro’s eyes widen as he stands. “Did you sneak a glance at my therapist’s notebook or something?”

“Nothing like that.” A soft laugh puffs out from Keith’s lips. “I studied animal behavior. We’re not that different, you know?” He takes a few steps closer to Shiro, holding out his hand. “You’re not in this alone anymore, okay? We’ve got your girl.”

Shiro gives a tentative smile as he shakes Keith’s hand. “You’re confident enough for the three of us, I think.”

“Kind of a requirement in this line of work.” Keith looks down at Atlas, who only gives him a cursory glance before she hides behind Shiro’s legs. “Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow for our first session, okay?”

Shiro offers a soft thank-you before he takes his leave, Atlas on his heels.

–-

It’s possible that Keith spoke too soon.

Or, more likely, he overestimated how far he’d get with Atlas during their first private lesson. Even though they’d worked in one of the sound-proofed training rooms, the smells and sounds of Dogstar proved to be too much for her. She spent most of the lesson shaking and plastered to Shiro’s leg, refusing both treats and praise. While Keith’s no stranger to dogs who require more patience, it became rapidly clear that his typical tactics weren’t going to win Atlas over. He needed a different plan altogether. He’s never done house calls before, but the desperate look on Shiro’s face at the end of their disastrous lesson was motivation enough.

He pulls up to the address, surprised to find a quaint little cottage about a mile outside of Altea University’s campus. Most of the houses on the street are sprawling, but this one’s like something out of a fairy tale, stone covered with ivy. Keith walks up to the front door, balancing his bags as he knocks.

No bark sounds from within; Shiro did say she tends to hide if anyone comes to the door. A few moments later Shiro opens the door. “I’m sorry to drag you out here,” he says. “Come in.”

“You didn’t drag me.” He offers a coffee to Shiro. “Venti skim hot latte with three pumps of caramel?”

Shiro stares at him, taking the drink. “How on earth did you know?”

“You dropped a receipt after your session the other day.” Keith sips his iced black coffee. “I brought donuts, too. I had to guess on those, but hopefully you have a sweet tooth.”

Shiro leads him into the snug kitchen, which is clean and airy. “I thought we were going to work with Atlas.”

“Oh, we are. But I’m starting with you.” Keith eases into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, opening the box of donuts and pulling out an old-fashioned. “You said she hides when company comes.”

Shiro follows suit, sitting across from him and selecting a pink frosted with sprinkles. “We don’t get a lot of company.”

“So when she does appear, which she will, she’s going to see us eating together. She’s going to see that you’re relaxed, or at least as relaxed as you get.” Keith takes a bite, savoring the sweetness.

Shiro licks a bit of pink frosting from his upper lip. He has a little nick on his cheek from shaving, and Keith wonders if he was right-handed. “Are you saying I’m high-strung?”

“I’m saying you’re the youngest person to finish the PhD program at Altea in your program, so that doesn’t seem like a super mellow experience.”

Shiro tilts his head. “You looked me up, huh?”

“I realized I need to know more about you if I’m going to help Atlas.” Keith sips his coffee. “Can I ask you some questions, or should I keep googling?”

Shiro peers in the donut box, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a s’mores?”

“Yup. With graham cracker crumble and marshmallow drizzle.” Keith laughs. “I saw you were an Eagle Scout and did the math.”

“Not all scouts like s’mores.” Shiro picks up the donut with a smile, making his eyes crinkle. “This one does, though.”

Keith’s pleased with his detective work. “So. Dr. Shirogane likes space, s’mores, and anxious rescue dogs. What else?”

“What does talking to me about what I like have to do with helping Atlas?” Shiro asks. “Not that I mind the company, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not even here.”

“She’s listening to you. And me, but mostly you. She knows what you sound like when you’re relaxed, like how you’d sound if you were talking with a friend.” Keith gestures at himself. “So let’s be friends.”

Shiro’s expression is dubious. “You’re saying if she thinks we’re friends, she’ll know I trust you and she can trust you.”

“Something like that.” Keith finishes his donut. “So tell me what you like. Tell me something about you. Something I can’t google.”

Instead of relaxing, Shiro looks somehow even more tense, his shoulders pinching inside his loose zip-up hoodie. “Sorry. I know this shouldn’t feel difficult. This is gonna sound weird, but I, well, I don’t really have a lot of friends these days.” Shiro lets out a breath. “It’s mostly me, I mean, I’ve kinda tightened my circle a bit after everything, and I’m just not used to making any new friends.”

Keith leans forward conspiratorially. “Wanna know a fun fact about animal behaviorists? We don’t always people very well.”

Shiro scoffs. “You’re not that hard to talk to.”

“It’s because we’re both nerds.”

Shiro looks up, eyes wide, and then laughs. The sound is sweet and rich, and Keith finds himself wanting to make Shiro laugh again. “What gave me away? The astrophysics?”

Keith grins. “Nah. The ‘Visit Endor’ poster over your couch and the replica Master Sword in the hallway.”

Shiro smiles back. “That’s just good taste.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

The conversation shifts into favorite Star Wars movies—they agree on Empire and Rogue One—and Zelda games—Shiro loves Breath of the Wild most, while Keith still favors Twilight Princess—and Keith can physically see the shift in Shiro’s body. He’s leaning forward, shoulders relaxed, and the tension in his jaw when Keith first arrived has vanished.

It makes Keith wonder how often Shiro gets to talk to someone like this, just chatting about something unrelated to his studies.

It makes Keith wonder if Shiro is lonely, even with Atlas.

A bit of movement on the other side of the kitchen catches Keith’s eye. “Don’t turn around, but I think you have a friend,” Keith says softly.

“Really?” Shiro whispers. “She’s here?”

“She’s just watching from the doorway. Think she’s trying to see what’s going on and where you are.”

“What should we do?”

“Drink our coffee and keep talking for now. See if she’ll get closer.”

The conversation shifts to family, and it’s strange how easy it feels to talk to Shiro, as if they’ve known each other for years. Keith learns Shiro was raised by his grandparents and lived with them past college, but due to a health issue, they’d recently moved into a senior facility nearby.

“I want to take her there eventually,” Shiro says. “I think she’d—oh!” He looks down at his lap, a smile rising on his face. “She put her head on my thigh.”

“The fact she’s willing to push past her comfort zone to be close to you is really big. Go ahead and give her some praise, pet her if she likes that. Make sure she knows she’s wanted right now and that it’s good she came to find you.”

“That’s my girl, that’s my girl,” Shiro croons, lavishing sweet words on Atlas as he strokes her head. “Such a good baby. So brave.” Under the table, Atlas’s tail softly whacks the chair legs. “She’s not shaking at all.”

“She’s mirroring you.” Keith raises his eyebrows at Shiro. “Maybe I should praise you, too.”

Color rises high on Shiro’s cheeks. “That, uh, won’t be necessary.”

“You don’t like people saying nice things about you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Shiro says softly, tilting his head. “But I’m not always the best at receiving compliments.”

“I see. Maybe you just need some practice.” Keith drains the rest of his iced coffee. “Let’s try moving elsewhere in the house. Someplace she likes to go. We can see if she follows.”

“The couch in the living room, maybe? She jumps up there to sit with me most nights.” Shiro bites the corner of his lip. It’s ridiculously endearing. “Should I just stand up or…”

“Yeah, you stand up first. Give her pets before you move away from the table. Once you take a step towards the door, I’ll start to follow.”

The parade from the kitchen is a strange one, with Shiro leading the way. Atlas stays on his heels, looking back and forth between Shiro and Keith as they make their way to the couch. “Go ahead and sit,” Keith says, and to his surprise, Atlas plops herself down on the rug. “Oh, sweet bean, I was talking to your Shiro.” He gives a little laugh as Shiro rubs the back of his neck. “Did you teach her that?”

“Yeah, I did.” Shiro smiles as he settles on the couch. “She does it about half of the time, so it’s kind of a work in progress.”

“Nice.” Keith takes a step closer. “So I’m going to sit down, and we’ll see how it goes.”

As soon as Keith sits, Atlas watches him closely for about five seconds before she leaps into Shiro’s lap. She’s not quite able to fit, but she flops across his thighs and gives a long sigh as she relaxes against him.

“Is…this good?” Shiro asks softly, gently petting between her ears.

“She seems pretty calm. That’s a good start. No interest in me at all, but not fearful, so we’ll take that.” The couch is comfortable, the perfect blend of supportive and soft. A well-loved blanket covered in embroidered stars is draped across the back, and Keith fingers the hem. “Did your grandmother make this?”

“My dad did, actually. I didn’t really know my parents, since they died when I was too young to remember, but my dad made this for me when I was small.”

“It’s beautiful.” He touches one of the stars. “Are these constellations?”

“They are.” Shiro smiles, closing his eyes for a moment. “My dad loved space, too.”

“I’m sure they’d be proud of you, your parents,” Keith says softly.

Shiro leans his head against the back of the couch. “I hope so.”

Something cold presses against Keith’s hand and he glances down to see Atlas has stretched out far enough from Shiro’s lap to give him a quick sniff. He stills, keeping his breathing quiet.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispers, letting her decide what she wants to do next. Atlas sniffs Keith’s hand again and then bumps his palm with her head, letting him pet her for a moment. She then yawns and sprawls out on the couch between them, still mostly in Shiro’s lap, but closer than she’s ever been to Keith.

“I can’t believe she just did that. She actually wanted you to pet her. That’s, it’s just amazing!” Shiro beams.

“We’re getting somewhere,” Keith says with a grin. “Give her a little more praise.”

Atlas rolls on her belly as Shiro lavishes her in more affection, tail thumping wildly. “So, uh, what now?” Shiro asks.

“We talk some more. And if she stays, we know she’s comfortable, and also that way she doesn’t associate her jumping up with my leaving.”

The conversation continues far past when Keith’s supposed to stay, and when he finally takes his leave, Keith thinks belatedly that it’s not hard to see why Atlas felt at home here. With Shiro, it’s painfully easy to do.

--

Their next few lessons go smoothly, practicing with Atlas in Shiro’s fenced backyard. Keith runs them through simple drills to see how they walk together and play together, watching how Atlas responds to simple commands and how she handles her harness and leash. Shiro is a little unsure of how to handle her reluctance at times but he’s deeply engaged with her, and when Keith makes a few small corrections, he and Atlas both learn quickly.

Atlas sniffs Keith’s hands and jeans, sometimes pausing to initiate some attention, but quickly rebounds back to Shiro. It’s slow progress, but it’s exciting to see her open up a bit to Keith. So far the scent of Kosmo on Keith’s clothes hasn’t deterred her, so he hopes he can try to get them together before long to practice Atlas’s engagement with another dog. Kosmo’s been a great asset in the past in helping fearful dogs gain confidence, and Keuth hopes the same can be true for Atlas.

He finds himself looking forward to their sessions more than usual, but he chalks it up to the emotion of the case. Anyone would feel connected to Atlas and Shiro; they’re so bonded and both trying hard to figure out how to work together. You can’t help rooting for them. They’re the kind of clients that he knows he’s going to miss when their package runs out.

Keith’s making coffee in the break room between sessions when Lance enters, waving his tablet and pointing at his headset. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to make a schedule as beautiful as this?”

He smirks, securing the lid on his tumbler before taking a sip. “Did the floor cleaners change their days again?”

Lance huffs. “No, it’s worse. It’s your favorite astronaut. He just destroyed my spreadsheet.”

Keith’s stomach drops. “Wait, Shiro? What are you talking about?”

“He left you a message.” Lance taps at the screen, scowling. “Something about how he fell, like nothing serious, but now he can’t do any of your appointments this week, which is going to blow everything to hell now that we’ll have to extend his package and I’ve already got you set up with a new client after you finish–”

“Lance, what happened to him?”

“He didn’t send me his x-rays, dude. He said he’s laid up and can’t walk at the moment.”

Keith frowns. “If he can’t walk, who’s taking care of Atlas?”

“Why would I know who–” Lance stops, his annoyed expression morphing into something decidedly more calculating. “Wait. Is there something going on with you and him? The astronaut?”

“Astrophysicist.”

“Same difference. And don’t try to explain because I don’t care.” Lance waggles his eyebrows. “So you have a crush on him.”

“I don’t have a crush! He’s my client.” Keith takes a swig of coffee and burns his lip. “Ouch. Fuck. Listen, I’m a professional.”

“Extremely professional.”

“Shut up.” Keith scrubs a hand through his hair. “He’s a nice person. I’d be concerned if any of my nice clients fell and got hurt. You’re the one more worried about calendars than actual people.”

Lance tilts his head. “You gonna ask him out?”

“I’m going to help him and his dog, which is what I’m getting paid to do.” Keith shoves his chair under the table more roughly than necessary. “I don’t ask people out. People don’t ask me out. I don’t know why that’s so fucking baffling to everyone.”

There’s a beat of silence before Lance lets out a breath. “You, uh, have the Santos family in ten.”

If there’s one thing Keith is good at, it’s compartmentalizing between his appointments. Dogs are uncanny; they can suss out anxiety and fear as easily as they can a Cheerio ground into a rug, so Keith’s learned how to shake off his tension and emotions. He’s mastered the art of calming breaths and quick meditations to make sure he’s centered and ready to work even after the most difficult sessions. Luckily, the Santos’s dog wants nothing more than to earn her treats, so the hour flies by, ending with smiling owners and an exhausted puppy.

Keith, on the other hand, can’t stop wondering if Shiro is okay.

Fuck.

It’s not a crush, he thinks as he throws on his jacket and heads out to the parking lot. It’s simply one person looking out for another. Empathy, really. Human kindness. He’d do the same for a stranger.

It’s not a crush, he thinks as he pulls up to Shiro’s house. It’s care for Atlas, a rescue dog who deserves all the support and care the world has to offer. And besides, Atlas actually has a little bit of trust for Keith, so he’s the one person who probably can help in this situation.

It’s not a crush, he thinks as he rings Shiro’s doorbell.

The amount of time it takes for him to answer the door is worrying, but not nearly as much as the sight of Shiro himself. He’s used to seeing Shiro with hair perfectly styled, his clothes impeccable. This Shiro is the opposite: hair hanging in his eyes, face pale except for a bruise on his cheek. He’s wearing a bathrobe and pajama pants, a crutch tucked under his good arm.

“Keith!” Shiro looks stricken, struggling to open the screen door. “I, um, did Lance not give you the message? I’m so sorry to have you come all the way out here.”

Keith steps inside, suddenly wondering if coming over was actually a good idea after all. “He told me you fell and I was worried about you. And Atlas, of course. I know you’ve been using longer walks at night to help with her anxiety and if you couldn’t walk her, I thought maybe you could use the help.”

To Keith’s surprise, Atlas appears at Shiro’s side, slowly walking up to Keith and sniffing his outstretched hand. She bumps against it twice before sniffing along Keith’s legs.

“I was able to get her to the yard.” Shiro leans heavily on the crutch, favoring his bandaged ankle. “I haven’t been able to get her out beyond that.”

“That’s okay. Would you like me to try to get her out for a bit?”

“It’s so kind of you. Her leash is over–whoa.” Shiro goes pale and wobbles, knees buckling, and it’s only Keith’s quick movement that catches him.

Shiro is big, but Keith’s stronger than he looks, and he keeps Shiro upright. “I’ve got you.” Keith lets the crutch fall to the floor, instead taking Shiro’s weight by slipping his shoulder under Shiro’s left armpit. “Let’s get you over to the couch, all right?”

“I got dizzy,” Shiro says, breathing hitched. “I’m so sorry.”

“Lean on me.” They cross the room together slowly until Keith can settle Shiro onto the couch cushions, careful not to bump his ankle. “There we go. Good job. Just take some deep breaths for me.”

Shiro follows Keith’s instructions, grimacing. His color has improved slightly, but he’s still a bit shaky. “I’m really okay.”

“Has anyone with a medical degree told you that lately?” Keith says, helping Shiro ease his injured leg up onto the couch.

“I was at the hospital last night.” Shiro tips his head back against the padded armrest, his pulse visible at his throat. “I slipped coming down the stairs. It happened so fast and I couldn’t catch myself, I was carrying laundry and—anyway, I landed on my right side, so I had to get checked out because of,” he stops, gesturing at his loose bathrobe sleeve. “Obvious reasons. But aside from a sprained ankle and looking like I lost a fight, I’m fine.”

“That all sounds really scary,” Keith says quietly, putting a pillow underneath Shiro’s ankle.

“Atlas was so upset. I had to call an ambulance and she hid under the couch.” At the sound of her name, Atlas slips up to nose against Shiro’s side. He scritches over her ears. “She hardly ever makes noise, but she was whining so quietly and it damn near broke my heart. I didn’t want to leave her.”

“I’m sure it was scary for her,” Keith says, reaching for the water bottle on Shiro’s end table and finding it empty. “I meant for you, though.”

“Oh.” Shiro blinks, letting out a breath. “Yeah.”

The instinct to brush back the hair from Shiro’s eyes is strong, but Keith resists it. He doesn’t like to be touched by most people, so he assumes the same is true for Shiro. “I’m a little concerned about you getting dizzy. You think you need to get checked out? I can take you to urgent care if you—“

Shiro lets out a soft laugh. “Oh, that’s on me. I did this in grad school, the thing where I forget to eat and then get wobbly.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Keith shakes the empty water bottle. “Or had much to drink?”

“I fed Atlas, I promise.” Shiro sounds stricken. “I made sure she had everything she needs.”

His voice is so plaintive that Keith reaches out before he can stop himself, giving Shiro’s left hand a gentle squeeze. “What about you, though? What about what you need?”

Shiro closes his eyes, squeezing Keith’s hand back. “It’s easier to take care of her than me.”

Keith has never wanted to hug anyone more in his entire life. Instead, he reluctantly lets go of Shiro’s hand and reaches for the star blanket. “Let’s make sure both of you get taken care of, all right?” He drapes the blanket over Shiro’s tall frame and helps him lift his head to slip a pillow underneath. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get you something to drink, and then Atlas and I are taking a walk while you take a nap. When we get back, you’re going to eat and we’ll figure out a plan for the week so you and Altas have some support.”

Shiro swallows, eyes watery. “You can’t do all that.”

“I can, actually. I’m really good at walking dogs and ordering food. Professional, even.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Under his blanket, Shiro tilts his chin, but not fast enough to hide his tears.

“Hey,” Keith says, squatting down so he doesn’t tower over Shiro. “It’s okay. You need to rest. Everything feels worse when you’re exhausted.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Shiro sniffs, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m a mess and this isn’t part of the Galaxy Package.”

“My galaxy, my rules.” Keith stands, not surprised to find Atlas standing close. “You’re not a mess. You’re hurt and I can help.” He yanks a tissue from the box by the tv, offering it to Shiro. “I’ll be right back.”

He goes out to the kitchen, filling Shiro’s bottle with ice and fresh water from the filtering pitcher in the fridge, and then returns to Shiro’s side, pressing it into his hand. “I need you to drink some before we head out, okay?”

Shiro nods, dutifully sipping through the metal straw. For a moment he looks almost like a little kid with a juice box, drinking so fast he nearly gets out of breath. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He takes the bottle and sets it on the end table within easy reach. “Do you think you can rest for a bit? I’d like to take Atlas for a walk.”

“Maybe.” Shiro settles down against the pillow. “The keys are on the hook by the door, next to her leash.” He reaches out to pet Atlas’s neck. “Go with Keith, okay, baby?”
She licks his palm before snuffling against his skin, leaning against him. “Go take a nice walk. You wanna take a walk?”

Her ears perk at the word and Keith retrieves the leash, moving slow and gentle as he clips the metal hook to her harness. “Hey, sweetheart. Why don’t we go outside? Stretch your legs, yeah?” He keeps talking to her softly, wondering if she’ll resist leaving the house, but once she feels a slight bit of tension in the leash, she responds, trotting after Keith like she’s done it a thousand times.

“We’ll be back, Keith says, pocketing the keys and slipping out the front door. Atlas turns to look at him, head tilted, and then she starts walking down the driveway, as if she already knows where she’s going.

Keith’s not sure if she’s feeling more confident simply because she’s been cooped up all day or if somehow he’s managed to build more trust with her than he thought, but she doesn’t show the usual signs of anxiety she’s displayed in the past. He lets her lead, allowing her plenty of time to stop and sniff, all the while keeping his eye out for any pedestrians or pets. She maneuvers almost as fast as Kosmo does despite her missing leg, and Keith has to lengthen his stride to keep up once she gets her momentum.

The area near campus is a mix of houses, apartments, and businesses, though luckily not quite as bustling as downtown. Keith’s surprised to find her leading him down a quaint street lined with coffee shops, a bookstore, little cafes, and even a local market. He wonders if this is where Shiro and Atlas like to walk. Shiro mentioned that he tends to get up extra early so that he can wander more freely with her without any unexpected interactions, and it’s not hard to picture the two of them wandering these quiet streets in the soft morning light.

Atlas tugs a bit harder on the leash, as if she has a destination in mind. Keith hurries his pace to keep up, ignoring his usual loose-leash walking practices just to see what’s on her mind. She’s persistent, making a beeline for the market, and Keith realizes that there’s a small, tucked-in food stand right near the entrance. He smells the burritos before he sees the sign indicating their menu and prices, and his stomach rumbles.

“Well, my goodness, if it isn’t our pretty little Atlas,” the vendor says, giving them a wave. “No Dr. Shirogane, though?”

Keith nearly trips on the curb as Atlas pulls him towards the stand, tail wagging. “Sh–I mean, Dr. Shirogane hired me to walk her. I guess this must be one of her favorite places.”

The man behind the stall gives a nod, as if somehow Keith has passed his test, and brushes a graying curl with the back of his wrist from his forehead. “His, too. They’re such a sweet pair.”

The notion of Shiro frequenting the local vendors and everyone knowing his name fits him so perfectly. Who wouldn’t want to talk to him? “I, uh, was hoping to bring some food back for him. Do you happen to know what he likes?”

The vendor snorts. “Do you hear this one?” He glances over his shoulder at another man wearing an apron. “He wants to know if I know what Dr. Shirogane orders.”

“Only the same thing every time,” the man says with a laugh. “We see him walking down the street and it’s already made for him.”

“Could I get whatever he usually orders, please?” He hesitates for a moment and then says, “And make it two?” Whatever Shiro likes, Keith’s sure he will, too. He’s not picky and Mexican food is his favorite.

“Oh, for Dr. S, we’ll take care of you.” The first vendor offers Keith a strip of grilled chicken, minus any spices. “For our lovely Atlas. Dr. S always lets her have it right away. She knows we spoil her.” Atlas wiggles with excitement and Keith slips her the chicken, which she immediately devours.

Keith pays for the food and adds a generous tip to the jar. “Thank you so much. I’m sure that Dr. S will enjoy.”

“Now that you’re walking Atlas, we’ll have to find out your order, too.” He gives Keith a wink. “Take care of that good girl, will you?”

“I definitely will.” Keith gathers up the food, surprised at the weight of the bag, but Atlas starts pulling on the leash and he doesn’t have time to look through it. He gives a wave before turning to follow after her as she starts pulling back in the direction they came.

They wander the streets back to Shiro’s house as the sun starts to set, and by the time they round the corner to his block, Atlas has settled into an easy rhythm of walking, staying close to Keith’s side. Her tail’s up, bobbing as she trots, and her body language has shifted into something relaxed and comfortable. It brings a smile to Keith’s face to fall into step with her, to earn that trust. It’s why he loves what he does, the way he’s able to build a connection with another creature and find a way to communicate that Shiro isn’t the only human who she can rely on. She bumps against his knuckles and he shifts the bag into his other hand so he can scritch between her ears as they wait to cross the street to Shiro’s house.

The porch light is on in the oncoming dark, a tiny beacon of welcome. “We’re home, sweet girl,” he says, even though it’s only true for her. “Let’s go check on your Shiro, okay?”

When they get inside, he finds Shiro asleep on the couch, his breathing deep and slow. His hair fans out on the pillow, eyelashes long over his cheeks. He’s beautiful, even with a bruise smudging his cheek and the shadow of a sleepless night under his eyes. Before he can stop her, Atlas surges forward and bumps her nose against Shiro’s neck.

He stirs, turning on his left hip and laughing softly as Atlas licks his chin. “Hey, Atlas,” he murmurs, blinking as he reaches for her, tipping his forehead towards hers. “You have a nice walk?” Shiro looks up, his forelock sleep-mussed. “Hi,” he says, a little smile creasing his mouth.

“You napped,” Keith says, pulling the coffee table closer to the couch. “Good job. You needed it.”

“Yeah, I did. Was everything–” he stops, watching as Keith puts down the bag of food. His eyes are wide, mouth parted. “Oh, my god. Did you get me dinner?”

“It’s dinnertime, isn’t it?” Keith says with a grin. “Besides, your girl practically dragged me to the market. They really love you over there.”

Shiro blushes as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “I love the Medinas. They make the best burritos.”

“I got your usual.” Keith digs through the bag, pulling out one of the paper-wrapped burritos. “Oh, they put some other things in here. You like peach rings and gummy cola bottles?”

“I have a sweet tooth,” Shiro says with a smile when he spies the plastic bags of candy. “They’re too generous.”

“You’re pretty easy to be nice to.”

Shiro looks up at him, fleeting confusion on his face. “What about you? Did you get anything?”

“I mean, yeah, but I figured I should get out of your hair.” Keith rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Shiro blows a raspberry. “Please. There’s some good local root beer in the fridge. Why don’t you stay? Eat your burrito while it’s hot and keep me from talking to the walls.”

“Wouldn’t want that. Sometimes they talk back.” Keith unzips his jacket and hangs it by the door. “How much kibble does Atlas get?”

“She gets a cup at dinner. The slow feeder is in the dishwasher. It’s clean.” Shiro takes a bite of burrito and manages around his mouthful. “Thank you.”

“I got you.”

A hour later, they’re stuffed with the best burritos Keith’s ever had, sipping handcrafted root beer, and inexplicably, Altas is curled up between them on the couch while they watch a few episodes of The Mandalorian.

“She looks comfortable,” Keith says with a laugh when Atlas rolls onto her side, exposing her belly for pets.

“I can’t believe she’s so relaxed with you,” Shiro says, looking between the two of them. “You know, I take that back. Anyone would be relaxed around you.”

Keith finishes his root beer, feeling warmth rise up his throat. “Anyone?” He scrambles for a response, caught off guard. “Oh, you mean dogs.”

A soft laugh escapes Shiro’s mouth. “I mean me.”

Keith’s heart picks up speed, enough that he can feel it chugging inside his ribs. “That’s, um, a really nice thing to say. And I think you are, too. Someone people would want to be around.” He picks up the half-eaten bag of peach rings, hoping to not veer the conversation into something Shiro didn’t intend. “You want some more?”

Another episode goes by and though Shiro makes no sign of tiring of Keith’s company, eventually he has to leave to pick up Kosmo from Dogstar before he heads home.

He stands, petting Atlas’s head before he moves to get his coat. “I’ll stop by tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”

“Wait, you’re just going to come over every day?”

“While you’re getting better.” Keith clarifies as he toys with the zipper on his jacket. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

Shiro’s smile is a little bashful. “We’d like you to.”

–-

Keith gets so used to walking Atlas and seeing Shiro every day that there’s a part of him that mourns the routine when it ends, even as he celebrates Shiro’s healing. The one consolation is that now they can finally go to the park to do outdoor practice, and since Atlas had a successful meeting with Kosmo last week, Keith’s hoping that adding Kosmo to the mix will help keep Atlas calmer.

The park is luckily not too crowded, which bodes well for walking an anxious dog. Keith greets Shiro in the parking lot, happy to see him without a crutch.

“Look at you, all mobile and everything,” Keith says, watching as Kosmo and Altas sniff each other and get reacquainted.

“I still have a brace on it for longer walks, but yeah, hopefully I should be able to retire that soon.” The white streak in Shiro's hair catches the sun, making him look almost angelic. “I don’t know how Atlas and I would have been able to get by without you these past couple of weeks. You’ll, uh, have to let me know what the additional charges are. I want to be sure you get paid.”

Keith shrugs, knowing full well he won’t charge Shiro a dime. “We’ll work it out. And it was honestly my pleasure. Look at how far she’s come. It’s amazing.” Kosmo and Atlas snuffle against each other, bumping shoulders as they enjoy each other’s company.

“You’re amazing.” Shiro clears his throat, faintly flushed. “Should we walk?”

At Shiro’s insistence, they take the long route around the lake. With the breeze coming across the water and the sun going in and out of cloud cover, the temperature is perfect. It’s easy to get into the rhythm of walking beside Shiro and Atlas, and he only needs to make a few corrections to ensure Atlas is getting some training as they go.

After the past few weeks, Keith feels like they can talk far beyond favorite movies and video games. He’s learned about the details of Shiro’s injury, how he was in a car accident the morning after his dissertation that resulted in the loss of his arm. Keith’s shared some of his personal story as well, about how never feeling like he fit in well in school drew him to animals, and the strangeness of being known online and yet not being known in real life.

It feels like Shiro knows, him, though.

They round a curve in the pathway, which leads to a picnic area up ahead. A group of screaming kids plays around one of the tables, and Keith starts to watch Atlas closely, looking for signs of her fear or anxiety.

“Don’t tense up,” he says softly to Shiro. “She takes her cues from you, remember?”

Shiro nods, releasing his white-knuckled grip on Atlas’s leash. “Got it.”

The kids’ squeals of delight get louder as they approach the picnic area. Altas doesn’t show any signs of fear or timidity; instead, she seems to pick up on the excitement and starts to engage Kosmo in play. Keith lets it go for a moment, enjoying seeing them having fun together, but suddenly he realizes Kosmo’s about to go full-on zoomies.

“Kosmo, don’t–” Before Keith can get words out, he and Altas take off in opposite directions, running in a circle around Shiro and Keith.

“Atlas!” Shiro yells. In a heartbeat, Shiro and Keith are neatly snagged inside of their leashes, wrapped together like a package in twine.

“Oh, my god,” Keith says, breathless as his chest is pressed against Shiro’s. “I’m so sorry.”

Shiro wobbles as Atlas comes around for another lap and his eyes widen. “Oh, shit!” Keith feels them start to sway and he quickly turns into the fall, making sure Shiro won’t take the brunt of it.

Fortunately, Keith lands on his back in the grass with Shiro collapsed against him. “You okay?” he manages, trying to catch his breath. “Your ankle?”

Shiro’s face is unexpectedly close to his. A laugh shakes out of him, enough that Keith can feel it where their bodies touch. “I’m fine. Are you okay? I’m the one who just landed on you like an asteroid.”

Atlas and Kosmo both crowd around them, licking their faces. Keith tips his head back, realizing he’s not just trapped under Shiro, but he’s literally tied up between their leashes. “No pup cups for you two,” he says sternly, but Shiro only laughs harder.

It takes some doing, but with both of them working together, they’re able to right themselves, kneeling in the grass as they try to get untangled. Atlas and Kosmo provide absolutely no help, flopping over in the sunshine and refusing to move.

Shiro exhales, the grin on his face the widest Keith has ever seen. “I can’t even be mad at her. I think Atlas knew I needed a good laugh today.”

“You know,” Keith says, unwinding the leashes from around Shiro’s shoulders, “my mom always says that dogs know what we need before we do.”

“You think it’s true?” Shiro asks, the flush on his cheeks spreading down to his throat.

“They, um, my parents met and fell in love because of a dog,” Keith says, aware of how fast his heart is beating. “Clearly worked for them. I’m not sure what Kosmo thinks I need, though.”

“Maybe he thought we needed a little more time together,” Shiro offers, biting his lip. He’s so adorable that Keith wants to scream.

Despite the effect Shiro’s words have on him, Keith’s finally able to get to his feet. “So” he says, reaching out a hand to help Shiro up. “Is that something you’d want? Time with me?”

“Is there something beyond the Galaxy package?” Shiro asks, picking out a little bit of grass from Keith’s hair. “More exclusive access? The Keith Tier?”

There’s no doubt Keith’s gone fully red, but he’s so charmed he can’t even feel fully embarrassed about it. “You’d, uh, be the first one to inquire about the Keith Tier.”

“I would hope that it’s reserved for your most committed patron.”

It occurs to Keith that he’s still holding Shiro’s hand from helping him up, but he doesn’t let go. “It’s very VIP.” He takes a breath, trying to steady his pulse. “Shiro, are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I’m asking you out, Keith.”

“Okay.” Keith nods, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “I’d like that.

Shiro grins. “Although if you want to count this as our first date, I wouldn’t blame you. Atlas and Kosmo seem to think it is.” The dogs look up at them, blinking into the sunlight as they yawn and snuggle close to one another.

“First date, huh?”

Shiro points down the pathway to the coffee cart up ahead. “How about I get you an iced coffee and we make it official?”

Keith bumps his hip lightly against Shiro’s, squeezing his hand. “And two pup cups.”