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Johnny was a good friend, at least he thinks he is. Spending time, money, and energy on trying to make everyone happy, doing all he could to be sure his friends were happy. He didn’t care if he didn’t get anything back in return, as long as he was useful, that’s all that mattered to him really. So, when hearing that Kenshi was thinking of getting a service dog—it made Johnny want to instantly do all he could to help him.
“A service dog? You want a service dog?” Johnny asks, after he finally swallowed the food in his mouth. Looking up at Kenshi curiously, as he thought about it for a bit. He never took Kenshi as a dog person, he felt more like a cat person—then again Kenshi was known for surprising Johnny. Like that one time Johnny thought Kenshi hated karaoke, though it seems it was the complete opposite, but damn did Kenshi have a voice of an angel. “Yeah… just you know with Sento being a katana and all, I can’t always take them everywhere. And I don’t really trust those walking sticks, plus it’s kinda annoying with all the questions people ask.” Kenshi responds back, a bit bitter at the thought—Kenshi hated pity and it was easy to tell. Before the swordsman sighs, as he brings the fork to his lips.
A service dog… that can’t be too hard to find one, Johnny has the money and the time to spend looking for one. Johnny has literally nothing going on in his life, no more Cris bothering him, no more training—he was lonely. Though not like he would admit that, sure he could get some nights with people for his status, but he didn’t want that. Maybe it was too soon, freshly divorced—should he really be looking for a relationship now? Then again, Cris had started dating instantly after signing off the papers, thankfully Johnny kept everything that was his. Though she didn’t seem to care much, just wanted to get away from the actor.
“Cage?” The gruff voice of Kenshi breaks his thought process, and he looks up beneath his shades. Blinking slightly, as he sighs. “Yeah, sorry—got lost in thought. But a service dog, I can get you one—easy peasy! Don’t have to worry about a thing, Ken.” Johnny says, smiling even though Kenshi can’t see it as Sento was resting a bit away from them. Kenshi had just came back from Japan, so Johnny wanted him to visit—letting the swordsman stay with him until he has to leave. So they were just enjoying a late dinner, it was peaceful—way more peaceful than when he had meals with Cris.
“Alright… if you say so, but you don’t have to.” Kenshi says, before Johnny cuts him off—being almost too excited to help him out. But Kenshi doesn’t point it out, just letting the actor speak. “Shush! Imma do it, and nothing you say will change my mind. After all, we’re best buds, and that’s what friends do. They help each other out!” Johnny says, pushing his index finger against Kenshi’s lips. Who chuckles, and gently pushes his hand away—before slowly nodding as a thought comes to him. “Right… friends. That’s what they do.”
—❤︎︎—
Most people think Johnny was stupid, sure he played off the dumb and attractive facade well. But he has a PhD for crying out loud! Seems everyone forgets about that, but it doesn’t really matter much to Johnny. He loves history, and that’s why he owned so many expensive artifacts—he wouldn’t have gotten Sento if it wasn’t for the fact he was almost obsessed with the history. Spent years reading about it, trying to find out every little thing—then finally finding the katana. And taking great care of it, he knew it was special even before they gave Kenshi his abilities.
But that’s beside the point, what really mattered was that he was searching for the perfect service dog for his friend. Sitting at one of the many, many tables in the Wu Shi Academy library. His eyes trailing along the pages, taking in every little piece of information about these creatures. They looked like dogs, they were described like dogs—so they had to be! Too bad the name of said being was worn away with age, maybe some water spilt on the pages long ago. It was an old looking book, wrinkles in the paper, an almost coffee coloring to it. But it held tons and tons of information, just what Johnny needed. Speaking of how they were massive, furry beasts. Who lurked during the night, howls so loud they were heard from different cities. Their claws were sharp like razors, and their sense of smell was impeccable.
This was the perfect dog for his best bud Ken! Johnny was sure of it, making sure to take pictures of the most important parts. All he had to do was wait til the sunset, and go searching for one of these dogs, can’t be so hard can it? Though, as he shuts the book and puts it back onto the dusty shelf, whistling as he walks away. He clearly missed the most important part, just his luck.
—❤︎︎—
Johnny whistles as he has a slight skip in his step, walking through the dark forest. As he looks around beneath his shades, yes, he still wears them even at night. His shoes crunching the leaves and grass beneath them, as his flashlight and the moon were his guide. He wasn’t expecting it to be this chilly, as he moves to pull his sleeves of his button up down—to properly cover his arms. Though the thin material didn’t do much, the movement causing him to point his flashlight downwards. Unaware of the being that was crawling through the bushes in front of him, as he grumbled to himself when the sleeve won’t move.
Before he hears a stick snap, and his head shoots upwards—quickly pointing his flashlight out in front of him. Though seeing nothing along the dark forest, only the thick bushes and trees. He sighs, chuckling nervously as he mutters something about paranoia to himself. Not even sensing the big creature standing behind him, until he’s shoved to the ground—yelping at the unexpected feeling. His flashlight flying out of his hand, and he moves to try and get up—before hearing a growl and a huge paw… no a hand… no it felt odd, it felt like a mix of both—along his back. Pushing him back down, as he quickly looks over his shoulder—face to… muzzle. As he stared at the thing he was searching for, which was snarling at him, drool dripping on his face.
“Ew… what the fuck. That’s nasty.” Johnny grunts out in disgust, moving to wipe away at the drool—as the beast sniffs at him. Before calming down slightly, seems it deems him no threat--before it was lick his hair. Messing up his perfectly slicked and styled hair, causing the actor to grunt to himself. Before he feels claws start to slowly sink into his sides, and teeth rip into his very expensive shirt.
All he could hope for, was that he doesn’t die.
—❤︎︎—
Johnny jolts awake, blinking slowly as he looks around confused. Wiping spit from his lips and chin, and moving to fix his now broken glasses. That fall from his face as he sits up, clearly broken. Making him look down at himself, his shirt was ripped to shreds, and his slacks were ruined. But what shocked him the most, was the claw marks on his sides and hips, and the huge ass bite mark on his left shoulder. He barely remembers the night, but he does know for sure—it got crazy after that thing tackled him. Oh shit… what about Kenshi? He’s probably worried sick, Johnny needs to get back home quickly.
Eventually he makes it back to the mansion, sneaking in as it was still earlier in the morning. Kenshi either was just now waking up or still sleeping, either way Johnny didn’t want to risk being seen like this. As he quickly hurries to his bedroom, and goes to shower. Trying to clean the marks as best as he could, though it hurt. He ignores the weird pains in his gut, like something was off—though it was understandable. He goes down to make breakfast, acting as if nothing happened. Grabbing everything he needs from the fridge, cracking open some eggs into a pan, starting the bacon and hashbrowns with it.
“Where were you last night?” Kenshi asks first thing as he notices Johnny in the kitchen already. “Me? Oh… uh, I just had to work late that’s all. No biggie.” The actor chuckles, waving Kenshi off dismissively, making the swordsman a bit annoyed. Because he knows that’s a lie, Johnny always tells him when he’s working late. But he doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to start a pointless fight over it first thing in the morning. “Ok if you say so….” And with that, they went on about their day, though there was this nagging feeling in Johnny’s gut—it was odd. Painful almost, and it only got worse and worse the closer night got. But he stayed quiet, maybe just a bug he caught… hopefully.
As he kept being his usual talkative self, but would randomly stop and stay silent for a bit. Johnny could tell Kenshi noticed, and was silently worrying—though he didn’t want to bring it up yet. As Johnny would then act fine almost immediately afterwards, maybe it was just a weird day for him. Johnny gets those sometimes, he was like that a lot after the nightmares first started—the guilt eats away at Kenshi. Knowing he’s the reason for them, even though Johnny says otherwise—if only Kenshi could’ve stopped Johnny from seeing him lose his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Kenshi finds himself asking without realizing it, as he moves to lean a bit more closer to Johnny. Placing a hand on his forehead, it was burning up, badly. Making Kenshi wince, as he stands up—though Johnny almost whines. But quickly shuts himself up, confused by the almost dog like noise—thankfully Kenshi doesn’t hear it. “Stay here, I’ll go get a wet rag,” and with that he walks off before Johnny can reply. And as quickly as he left, he was back—gently dabbing the cool material against Johnny’s skin. Making him sigh softly in relief, leaning against it he didn’t realize how bad he was burning up.
“I think you should go lay down for a bit, you’re really burning up.” Kenshi says, moving to reach out for his hand and helping him up. Before guiding him to his bedroom, and once again helping him lay back down. Leaving the wet rag on his forehead, even though Johnny protests for a bit—Kenshi quickly shuts him up with a stern gesture of staying in bed. The actor doesn’t even notice when he falls asleep, just barely remembers clutching at his stomach and curling up into himself.
—❤︎︎—
Kenshi almost shoots up in the bed he’s lying in, huffing in annoyance. As he rubs at his temples, trying to guess what time it was—but that didn’t really matter at the moment. What did was the loud crying and painful noises he could hear from Johnny’s bedroom. Causing him to get up, not even caring to put his blindfold on—he hasn’t let anyone see the scars yet. Placing his hand against the wall, using it as his guide—even though he knows the layout. He was still tired, thankfully the bedroom was close by the guest room he’s been staying in. His tattooed fingers grip the doorknob of the other’s room, before slowly turning it and hearing it creak slightly as he pushes the door open. Before stepping inside, he could still hear the noises but louder.
The doorknob making a somewhat loud noise as Kenshi lets go of it abruptly, and starts walking towards Johnny’s bed. Who doesn’t even notice him, Kenshi’s knees bump against the mattress—as he puts one on top of it. It makes a slight creak as his weight slowly presses on it, making a slight dip in the bed. Reaching out for Johnnys shoulder, feeling the material of his shirt—not even noticing it was torn to shreds everywhere else. Though he freezes as he notices how much bigger Johnny felt, yeah he has big shoulders—but this was huge. He moves his hand down the actors arm, but instead of skin he feels thick fur.
“Johnny?….” Kenshi mutters, causing the younger to whine, though it sounded dog like—as if there was an actual dog here. Kenshi gets more onto the bed, as his other hand reaches for his head. Feeling thick fur there too, and small wolf like ears—fuzzy to the touch. But it causes the whines and crying to softly quiet down a bit, making Kenshi softly pet his head. He was confused on what to do, trying to rack his brain for anything he learned during training at the Academy. Until it hits him… werewolves. Johnny got bit by a damn werewolf of all things. He was probably, no definitely, is in so much pain right now.
“Oh god… Johnny. It’ll be okay, just let it pass.” The swordsman mutters, moving to sit down properly—putting Johnny’s head in his lap. As he curls up around him, clinging to his sweatpants—whining as the pain was still there. It should be over soon though, hopefully sooner than later. Kenshi doesn’t even know how much time passes, until Johnny stops sniffling and whining. Now nuzzling against Kenshi’s thigh, a soft thump is heard—a tail wagging against a bed. Kenshi wishes he had Sento on him at the moment, so he could see somewhat what Johnny looked like at the moment. Maybe later though, as Johnny seemed to have calmed down.
Johnny leans up, sniffing at Kenshi—his wet nose pushing against his stubbled cheek. Tickling Kenshi somewhat, as he then feels Johnny lick him—causing him to grunt at the unexpected feeling. “Yuck… come on, I know you’re a canine now. But I know it doesn’t make you a mindless dog, Cage.” Kenshi says, wiping the slobber away—as Johnny grins at him. Werewolves had the same mindset, they just shifted, and might be a bit more aggressive or do some canine like actions—but other than that. They didn’t really change mentally.
“So you gotten bit yesterday night then… why didn’t you say anything, clearly lying to me about work.” Kenshi grunts out, a bit annoyed at Johnny lying to him. Causing the actor to whine, though obviously he couldn’t respond back verbally. Making Kenshi sigh, as he shakes his head somewhat—before reaching out to scratch behind Johnny’s ears. Causing his tail to wag faster, responding just the way a dog would to some scratches. Johnny brings up one of his paws, though they were shaped like hands—to gently rub around Kenshi’s scars. Making him suck in a breath, completely forgetting about them showing—though it was like Johnny was admiring them instead.
The fact knowing Johnny’s claws could tear his face apart, but were so gentle against his skin. Made Kenshi sigh softly, letting him do as he pleases—he was kinda surprised to find out he didn’t mind Johnny seeing the scars. Then again, Johnny was the one who healed him, who helped him, took away that pain he thought wouldn’t ever leave. Kenshi took sight for granted, though he doesn’t like thinking about the what ifs or what he’ll never see. He does miss the color of Johnny’s eyes, he faintly remembers them—he’s almost forgetting what he himself looks like. But Johnny? No, only the colors were fading but his face wasn’t. Though Sento let him see his surroundings, it was all in blues and blacks and whites, it doesn’t give him the gift of seeing Johnny in color.
Johnny’s tail wags as he gently runs his fingers along the skin, before pulling away and nuzzling his muzzle against Kenshi’s jawline. Tickling the older male slightly, but lets him nuzzle him as he scratches behind his ears. Before suddenly Johnny pulls away, and gets off the bed—confusing the swordsman. “Johnny? Where are you going?” Kenshi asks, sitting up more as he leans forward. Listening to the noises the werewolf makes as Johnny struggles with finding something in his closet. While in the closet, Johnny was slightly grumbling, trying to find where he had put that stupid custom vest he bought. He didn’t know if he should put those glasses on as well, but decided against it—it was a pain trying to get the collar on. Glancing at a mirror in the huge walk-in closet, and moves to look at himself in all angles.
Damn, he was super fluffy—he’ll definitely start shedding fur which kinda annoys the actor. As he gets closer to the mirror, noticing his normal honey colored eyes—were now a bright glowing orange color. He was mostly a light brunette color, like his hair—but around his belly, muzzle, neck, and arms were a cream color. Making the brown fur fade into lighter shades, until it mixes into a cream color. He’s a bit upset he has such a short tail, but quickly forgets about it when noticing the vest right next to him. Quickly putting it on, as he steps out of his closet—tail wagging.
Johnny gets back on the bed, making Kenshi slightly relax at the mattress dipping with the weight. Reaching a hand out, before his rough palm meets Johnny’s wet nose and fuzzy muzzle. He didn’t have Sento bear him, so he was relying on noise and touch at the moment. Listening to the wag of Johnny’s tail, his somewhat heavy breathing, the way the bed springs creak as Johnny gets closer. Before he feels a big hand grab his other one that was on Johnny’s face, as it’s slowly brought to his chest.
Though instead of feeling fur, he feels a vest around Johnny’s front legs, or arms—whatever they were called. It was sleeves for fur, and as he felt around—the front was open. The only thing keeping it together was a small belt like thing latched together. Kenshi brings his hand up higher, now dealing Johnny had let go of him—almost… panting happily from the noise. Like a dog waiting for praise, as he scratches his chin with his other hand. He feels a collar around the fluffy neck, he doesn’t even think about how Johnny got it on by himself. His hand goes to the back, slowly feeling it—until he feels stitching on it. It takes a bit for him to trace the letters and put it together, oh… now it makes sense why he was wearing this.
“You got to be kidding me, Cage.” Kenshi huffs out, he can’t tell if he’s amused or not—pulling his hand off the canines back. “Did you really plan out getting bit by a damn werewolf, so you could be my service dog?” The swordsman grunts, clearly knowing Johnny’s thought process—as he hears a slight huff from him confirming his thoughts. Kenshi sighs, he knows he should’ve just gotten a service dog himself instead of letting Johnny handle it. “I’m not even surprised you would do something as stupid as this.” He shakes his head slowly, but isn’t that mad about it.
Kenshi moves away from Johnny, scooting to be on the other side of the bed. As Johnny moves to lay down, tail thumping against the bed, wrinkling the sheets a bit. As he watches Kenshi happily, surprised when the swordsman suddenly lays down next to him—pulling the blankets over them. Making sure he covers Johnny up, as Kenshi lays on his side facing the actor. His left arm under the pillow, as he reaches out with his other to gently brush his tattooed fingers through his fluffy fur.
“Just go to sleep for now, but don’t think this conversation is over.” Kenshi scolds him lightly, making Johnny huff—but moves to lay his chin on Kenshi’s side. Trying not to get too happy that Kenshi allows him to cuddle him, though his tail gives it away.
Good, Kenshi wasn’t mad—he seemed amused even. Even though Kenshi acts like he wasn’t, Johnny could smell it on him, making him happy. At least Johnny knows now he’s a good friend in Kenshi’s eyes, that’s all that mattered. Making his best bud happy.