Work Text:
Paws on the doormat - like a gentleman - David winds himself up into a full body shake, shedding the snowflakes that accumulated on his fur in the brief time he was outside.
His vision steadies and what the f -
He stops himself. He is, after all, a royal canine. He can stymie the urge to use the vernacular of commoners. However -
Looking into the livingroom, David sees -
the outside is inside. There is an entire tree in the livingroom.
David fur-rows his brow. Looks at the other guy, feeling…well…
{‘Hen, your dog is scowling at me.’
'I don't think dogs are capable of such things, love.'
'No! Look - his little brow is furrowed, and it's not anywhere near as adorable as when you do it.'
‘Hmmm. well, he’s probably remembering last week.’
‘What? Oh, you mean, when I wouldn’t let him - ‘}
…bring the stick in. The stick with the most perfect mouth-feel that David has felt since…well…the week before at least. The other guy wouldn’t let David bring it inside, because -
“No, David, that belongs outside.”
And now, there’s an actual, whole tree inside, so like, propriety aside, what the actual shit?
///
Okay, so.
The outside is inside.
And now, there’s twinkly lights draped around its circumference. David assumes they’re coloured, but they’re all just varying degrees of flashing grey. And there’s paper wrapped packages underneath the tree, all of which smell like precisely nothing, yet -
“David!” the other guy exclaims, squeezing a parcel enthusiastically. “This one is for you.”
David trots over, slowly, skeptically.
The other guy crinkles the paper until it squeaks and immediately David is interested. He sniffs the object, still finding it to be offensively neutral…but…it squeaked so…
The other guy unwraps the paper a bit, and David can smell it. The tell-tale scent of a new toy, with fresh squeaker and new crinkles with such good mouth-feel. He moves in closer, his tail wagging from side-to-side as the other guy peels back the paper fully, and David can take the toy in his mouth. He delights in the first press of his teeth on the plush fabric, with the crumple of material between his jaw, shakes the toy violently a few times, and then trots away into the bedroom to get better acquainted, in privacy.
///
Listen, kibble is fine. There’s nothing wrong with kibble. It’s just that when offered an alternative - like, say, moist turkey breast…David is going to choose the alternative, every damn time.
And so what if it feels like he’s selling out to the other guy. In all actuality, the other guy has been nothing other than absolutely wonderful to his Henry, and to David, ever since he arrived, so really, if he also happens to sneak David tender little morsels of meat under the table…well, that’s between David and the other guy. Who David has recently started referring to as his Henry’s Alex.
So what if he doesn’t let David bring in sticks, and instead brings in the whole damn tree?
He also carefully selected a new toy for David to love, and makes sure David feels included at the dinner table, and he looks at David’s Henry like he’s his Henry too, and as David curls up in front of the fireplace, full of kibble supplemented by turkey (and a tiny bit of mashed sweet potato), he can’t help but let out a contented sigh.
And when his Henry’s Alex gently lifts him up onto the bed later that evening and covers him up with a soft fleece throw, David is certain the other guy is good, and can stay as long as he likes.