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Will settles into his chair, nursing two fingers of whiskey. His fireplace roars in front of him. It's been an easy night, nothing too stressful. He got off work early, had therapy with Dr. Lecter, came home and had dinner. Now he watched the flames grow as his dogs sat around him. Some were at his feet, staring up at him, others were asleep. Zoe looks at him, underbite out and proud.
Will chuckles, looking at his silly dog. "I wish you guys could talk…" He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip.
Zoe tilts her head. With a gnarly lisp and high pitched voice, she responds. "Who says we can't, bitch?"
Will immediately chokes on his drink. He gasps for air, coughing painfully hard. Alcohol going down the wrong pipe feels horrendous. He clears his throat over and over, grasping his neck. He looks down at his dog.
"What…the fuck…" He stares into her eyes, shocked and confused.
"You heard me," She snaps back. "We can talk. All of us can. You just don't listen… Typical man."
Will takes offense. "I really don't appreciate your tone."
"And I don't appreciate that cheap ass kibble you buy but you don't hear me bitching and moaning, do you?" She gripes.
Will scoffs. "What on earth is your problem?"
Buster comes into view. His voice is low and gravely. "We've got a lot of problems, Dad. Not just the nasty food."
Will rubs his face with his hand, trying to figure out what in the world was happening in this moment. His curiosity gets the best of him so he tries to listen. "Okay, what do you have to say, Buster?"
"I get that you're lonely and hormonal, I do. I was that way before you let some stranger snip my balls off but… Dude…" Buster whines. "In your sleep, every single night, moaning and whimpering Hannibal's name. It's actually pathetic. Have you even tried to ask him out?"
Will turns a bright shade of red. "I-I-I… Uh-uh, I'm-"
Max joins the conversation, a thick Australian accent rolling off his tongue. "Mate, you need to do something about this. I'm having trouble sleeping listening to you hump the bed every night."
Jack responds from his bed. "Ja, Dad, it's getting a bit ridiculous. Even when Hannibal comes over, the two of you flirt so desperately, it's painful to watch two men be so enamored with each other but so unwilling to make a move."
Ellie comes in, voice bright and squeaky. "Guys, stop bullying Dad!"
"Thank you, Ellie!" Will chimes.
"He has a hard enough time admitting he's gay, he doesn't need to hear this from all of you!" She shouts.
Will's brows furrow and he gets defensive. "I-I'm not gay."
Every single one of his dogs starts laughing and couple even howl.
Harley has to calm himself down before speaking. "It's actually insane how deep into denial you are. Even I came out of the closet quicker than you."
Will is deeply confused. "Um… What?"
"Yeah…" Harley tells him as he walks over to Jack. "Jack and I have been together for two years."
Will feels dizzy.
Zoe reenters the conversation. "Listen. You're seeing Hannibal tomorrow at work. Ask him out for a drink. For the love of God, go to his place. We'll be fine alone for the night."
All of the dogs start chiming in.
"Do it, dad! Do it!" Ellie yaps.
"What have you got to lose?" Jack asks.
"Get you some!" Max shouts.
"Please put an end to this nightmare," Buster cries.
"Die, faggot." Winston states clearly, finally breaking his silence.
Will stands up from his chair and yells, "ENOUGH!"
All of the dogs go silent.
Will pinches the space between his brows. "Okay, okay. I hear you all loud and clear…" He huffs. "I'll ask Hannibal out tomorrow."
The dogs start wagging their tails.
Will sighs as he begins to sit back down. Once he meets the chair, a sharp pain throbs in his ankle. He yelps and pulls his foot up. He looks down at his attacker.
Zoe.
"Get some better kibble while you're out, you triflin ass bitch."
Will sits up immediately, gasping hard and breathing in and out quickly. He looks around. He's in bed, under the covers. He touches his chest, feeling his cotton t-shirt. He looks at his nightstand. 1:13 in the morning. He looks toward the living room. All of the dogs are fast asleep in their beds. He blinks a few times.
"G-Guys?" He calls out softly.
No response.
Will lays back down and lets out a sigh of relief. It was all just a really, really weird dream.
"And that's the last time I'm having sriracha before bed…" He whispers, nestling into his pillow.
He hopes he can get back to sleep and have a different dream. Preferably one involving his psychiatrist.