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Summary
“You are worse than a dog in heat.”
The words have an immediate effect on him, his skin prickling with anticipation as his pants tighten, a short resonant growl building on the base of his throat. Jock barks, once, and Bill stares, wide eyed. A shudder shakes his slender body in a way that makes Jock want to bark, bite, claim. He opts against it, running the flat of his tongue over his teeth, relishing the attention, Bill’s posture mimicking a deer’s before the hunt, unafraid of the hounds.
“What does that make you, then, Billy?” Jock asks, taking a step forward.
Instead of pulling back, Bill faces him, shoulders square, gaze flinty. “Your handler.”Jock has never felt fully human since he was first deployed in the Western desert, too violent, too detached from the horror. Captain Fraser helps.