Work Text:
The last thing Andrew Cody wanted or needed was a puppy.
Dogs were messy. Chaotic. Pope hated chaos.
But he loved you. And you were dog lover. “This is the first time in my life I haven’t had a fur baby,” you’d told him after announcing you’d be going to the shelter the next day.
He had done little other than make a grunt of agreement. It was your house. Your dog. He’d just have to hope it wasn’t too messy.
When he came over the next day, you’d happily greeted him at the door with a tiny black and white dog in your hand. “Isn’t he adorable?” you’d cooed immediately upon opening the door.
Pope nodded once. “Yeah. Cute.”
You pouted. “Oh, come on Andrew. He’s a puppy. Everyone loves puppies.”
He simply kissed your temple then went over to sit on the couch. When you took your usual spot, the puppy ended up in your lap. Pope blinked down at it. That was his spot. Your fingers scratched between the dog’s ears and he knew there was no way you were making it move. He huffed out a breath and turned his attention back to the TV. This couldn’t last forever.
That afternoon Pope witnessed the puppy pee on the floor for the first time. He called your name while staring at it.
You hurried into the room. “What? What’s wrong?”
“He peed in the house. He can’t do that.” Pope shifted on his feet looking at the mess.
You let out a soft laugh. “He’s a puppy, Andrew. He has to be taught to go the bathroom outside. Let me take him out then I’ll clean it up. You don’t need to worry about it.”
That had a thread of irritation running up his spine. Not that you’d offered but that you thought he wasn’t capable of it. Dog germs couldn’t be that much different than people germs. Gods know he’d cleaned up Craig’s bodily fluids more than once. And the puppy was at least cute.
He headed into the kitchen and got out a pair of the gloves you kept for him. You had cleaner and paper towels already on the counter. He had just finished cleaning up when you came back inside, puppy in tow.
“You didn’t have to do that, honey. I would have gotten it.” You sounded slightly guilty when you said it.
“It’s okay. I got it.”
“Thank you,” you said and set the dog down to take all the cleaning supplies from him. “I’ll throw these gloves away. There’s new ones in the hall closet and I’ll pick up some more.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up when you kissed his cheek. It dropped immediately when you said, “I’m going to run to the store to get some things I need for the pup. Keep an eye on him please.”
He glanced between you and the puppy and back again. He swallowed and gave you a nod.
After you left, he settled on his usual spot on the couch to watch a nature documentary. It had only been a couple of minutes when he heard a sharp yip. His eyes snapped down to find the pup sitting at his feet. “No.”
As soon as he returned his attention to the TV, the dog yipped again. “Stop that.”
The routine repeated three times before Pope bent down and scooped up the dog. Setting it in his lap, he patted the dog’s head twice. It circled once then laid down in a little ball. Pope’s gaze moved from the fish on the screen back to the now sleeping dog.
Almost against his will, Pope’s fingers found their way into the pup’s fur. He was so warm. And soft. Maybe the little thing wasn’t so bad. This was kind of relaxing.
When you returned home an hour later, you found your boys cuddled up on the couch, both fast asleep.