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Summary
March spluttered in offense, but Healy moved the hand on his arm to his shoulder and nodded briskly. With a firm grip, he pulled March away from the others and shoved him into a corner that wasn’t being used to store implements. Healy pushed him against the wall, and a breathy little gasp escaped his lips. March tilted his head to look down at Healy, a pout already threatening to form again.
“Did you see what he said?” March huffed, already crossing his arms and looking past him to glare at the bouncer. “He called me your–”
“Mutt,” Healy filled in and March’s head snapped back to him like– like he’d been calling him. Like ‘mutt’ was his name and he would come when called.
He still hadn’t taken the ears off.
AKA
Healymarch go to a gay bar to investigate a missing husband. They discover pet play (and each other) instead.