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Summary
“Reigen always says it’s important,” Dimple huffed. He pushed himself off the bed and crossed the room in a few long strides to stand in front of Shigeo. He looked handsome in his boyish way, and, as always, Dimple had dressed to match. He hoped he’d make for a lovely accessory at Shigeo’s side tonight. Shigeo let Dimple straighten his lapel. He didn’t comment when Dimple got closer than was strictly necessary, nor when his hands lingered. “I will be,” Dimple said lowly, “on my absolute best behavior for you.”
Shigeo hooked two fingers around the fine red collar fastened to Dimple’s neck and tugged him down just a bit. He went as easily as ever, and with a small click his matching red leash was secured in place. Shigeo gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Good boy.”
(The only difference between a black dog of death and a benevolent churchyard grim is context.)
