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By the fourth night, Thorn had learned his name, the sound of Michael opening anything that might contain food, and that the space beneath David’s chin was occupied territory whenever Michael lay against him on the couch.
He had also learned to sit, although his understanding of the command seemed to depend on whether Michael was holding something worth sitting for. Michael insisted this still counted. David had watched the puppy lower his backside halfway to the floor, reconsider, and launch himself at Michael’s hand instead, and had developed a slightly different opinion.
Tonight, however, the treats were sitting untouched on a crate beside the couch.
Thorn had stationed himself between Michael’s boots and was chewing a frayed length of rope, holding it down with paws he still hadn’t quite learned to manage. Every few moments Michael’s fingers drifted through his own hair, and Thorn would pause to look up, checking on him before returning to the important business of taking his toy apart.
David watched them from the opposite end of the couch.
“He’s settling in.”
Michael smiled without looking up. “You say that like he didn’t settle in the second you handed him over.”
“He spent the first night trying to get inside your shirt.”
“He was cold.”
David looked pointedly toward the scorch mark on the edge of the rug. Michael followed his gaze, then bent down to rub Thorn’s ears.
“He was emotionally cold. There’s a difference.”
The puppy abandoned his rope to lean into Michael’s hand, his tail sweeping against the floor. He had already discovered that Michael could be persuaded to put almost anything aside if he rested his chin on his knee and looked hopeful enough. David had seen a book close, a meal go cold, and an entire conversation with Paul come to an end that way.
Michael had been warned about the attachment. He appeared to regard it as an excellent feature.
David leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“We should try something with him tonight.”
Michael glanced over. “If this is about staying off the furniture, I think we’ve already lost.”
“Something he’s actually here for.”
That brought Michael’s attention fully to him. His hand stayed on Thorn’s head, the puppy pressing upward each time the stroking slowed.
“You think he’s old enough?”
“We’re not going to ask much of him. I want to see what he does when you need somebody to leave you alone.”
Michael looked down at the small white body tucked between his feet. Thorn had one ear turned inside out and a loose strand of rope caught beneath his paw.
“He’s still a baby, David.”
“I know. We stop if he gets upset.”
David had made certain of that before bringing him home, too. There had been plenty of talk about what Thorn would eventually be capable of, how much damage he could do, what a grown hellhound would consider sufficient reason to tear something apart. David had kept asking about the puppy he was actually taking with him.
Michael stroked the crooked ear back into place, thinking it over.
“Okay. But if he wants to go back to chewing his rope, we let him.”
David nodded and began taking off his gloves.
Michael watched the first one come free. “You’re not keeping those on?”
“He’ll have trouble getting through the leather at his size.”
“That seems like a pretty good argument for keeping them on.”
David set both gloves beside the treats. He could feel Michael looking at his hands, following the movement as he pushed his sleeves back from his wrists.
It was easy to forget how much of David Michael usually encountered through leather. Even when David touched his face, Michael would sometimes catch his hand and turn his mouth into the palm, making a point of waiting until he took the glove off. There was something about the sight of his bare hands now that made Michael’s expression change, the humor receding.
David reached over and rubbed his thumb along the crease between his brows.
“We’ll keep it simple. You tell me to let go, and we see whether he helps. If he doesn’t, we leave it for another night.”
Michael caught his hand before he could withdraw it, pressed a brief kiss to his fingers, then let him go.
They moved into the open space in front of the couch. Thorn followed Michael immediately, dragging the rope between his front legs and tripping over it once before abandoning it near the rug. He sat on Michael’s boot while David approached, pleased to have found somewhere to rest.
For the first few moments, nothing happened. David put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, and Thorn regarded him with mild interest. Michael rubbed a thumb over David’s bare wrist, then tipped his face up when David leaned in to kiss him.
The puppy stood, apparently concerned that an activity had begun without him.
Michael laughed against David’s mouth. “You’re fine. Nobody’s forgotten you.”
David stayed close as Michael bent to reassure him, listening to the fondness in his voice. When Michael straightened again, David brushed his knuckles along his jaw.
“Ready?”
Michael nodded, although his eyes flicked toward David’s hands once more before he lowered his arm.
David caught his wrist.
He kept his grip loose enough that Michael could have pulled free without effort. The bones beneath his fingers felt painfully small with so much of his attention on them, he could feel the tendons shift as Michael turned his hand.
“David, let go.”
Thorn looked up.
Michael glanced toward him, then back at David. David held his wrist where it was.
“I mean it. Let go of me.”
The puppy moved before Michael finished speaking.
There was a clumsy scramble over Michael’s boot, a flash of white fur as Thorn pushed himself upward, and then a sharp, startling pressure at the base of David’s thumb.
David opened his hand immediately.
Thorn hung on for another second, front paws braced against Michael’s leg, his little body rigid with effort. A growl vibrated through his chest, deeper than anything that size had any business producing.
“Thorn, come here.”
Michael’s voice had changed. David heard the alarm in it and kept his hand still while Michael crouched, reaching for the puppy.
“Come on, sweetheart. He let go. I’m okay.”
At the touch of Michael’s hand, Thorn loosened his jaw. David lowered his arm slowly and stepped back while Michael gathered the puppy against his chest.
For a moment Michael just held him. Thorn twisted around in his arms to keep David in sight, a low sound still rumbling in his throat.
Then Michael saw the blood.
“Oh, fuck. David, your hand.”
He rose halfway, one arm supporting Thorn while his free hand reached out. David let him take his wrist.
The punctures were small, but deeper than he had expected. Blood tracked across the heel of his hand and gathered at his smallest finger before falling to the floor. Thorn watched the movement from Michael’s arms, his ears drawn back.
Michael turned David’s hand toward the light.
“I thought he was just going to nip you. You should’ve kept the gloves on.”
“I'm all right.” David glanced toward the puppy. “Tell him he did well.”
Michael’s thumb stopped against his wrist.
“David, I don’t want to praise him for hurting you. You’re not going to hurt me.”
Thorn shifted at the sound of his voice, nosing beneath Michael’s jaw. Michael adjusted his hold and stroked him automatically, but his eyes stayed on the blood. David could feel the care in his grip, the effort to hold his hand without touching anything that might hurt.
He had expected Michael to dislike this part. He hadn’t quite prepared for how difficult it would be to stand there and let him.
“He didn’t know we were pretending,” David said. “You told me to let go, and I didn’t. As far as he knows, he just helped you.”
“I know that. I’m not mad at him.” Michael glanced down, rubbing a hand along Thorn’s back as though the puppy needed to hear it too. “I just don’t want him thinking he’s supposed to bite you every time you touch me.”
“He watched me kiss you. He watched you touch me. That didn’t bother him.”
Michael looked back toward the couch, then down at his own wrist. There was no mark on it. David hadn’t left so much as a flush beneath his skin.
Thorn tucked his nose against Michael’s throat, apparently satisfied that David was keeping his distance for the moment.
“We could get one of the others to do it next time,” Michael said. “Maybe Paul could-”
“Michael.”
David hadn’t raised his voice, but Michael stopped. His fingers tightened slightly around David’s wrist.
David looked at the hand holding him, then turned his own carefully beneath it. The wounds pulled as he moved. He felt Michael register it and try to ease his grip, and caught his fingers before he could let go altogether.
“If something ever happens and I do come after you, he needs to know he should stop me, not hesitate because it’s me.”
Michael’s expression closed around a hurt David hadn’t put there with his hands.
“You’re talking like you think that’s going to happen.”
“I think I have powerful enemies.” David kept his voice quiet, aware of Thorn watching him from beneath Michael’s chin. “And you’re human. I don’t get to decide that nothing can happen to you because I wouldn’t be the one choosing it.”
There were names he could have given Michael. Things he could have explained about what could be done to a vampire, what could be taken from him, how little the body sometimes cared about the promises made inside it. Michael knew enough already to understand, and David didn’t want to see him looking at every hand that touched his face and wondering.
He rubbed his thumb over Michael’s knuckles.
“I hope he never has to put himself between us again. But if he does, I need him to remember you being pleased with him. He can’t be waiting to find out whether you’ll be angry because it’s somebody you love.”
Michael looked away. His jaw worked, and for a while the only movement was his hand smoothing down the fur along Thorn’s spine.
The puppy was beginning to relax. One hind leg had slipped over Michael’s forearm, leaving him draped awkwardly against his chest in a position that couldn’t possibly have been comfortable. Michael hadn’t moved him. David wondered whether he even noticed the weight anymore.
“I don’t like thinking about you being made to do something like that,” Michael said at last. “I don’t like standing here talking about him having to hurt you.”
“Neither do I.”
Michael’s eyes returned to his hand. The bleeding had slowed, though the little wounds remained stubbornly open.
David waited until Michael looked up again.
“Please let me make sure you’re safe.”
For a moment, Michael only stared at him.
David could have made it sound practical. He had intended to. A few minutes with the puppy, an explanation of what he was looking for, and then they could spend the rest of the night letting Michael reward Thorn until he fell asleep in his lap.
Instead he was standing in the middle of their home with blood drying between his fingers, asking Michael for something he couldn’t make himself stop needing.
Michael’s grip softened.
“Okay,” he said, and brought David’s hand to his mouth, kissing the uninjured knuckles before letting it go. “Okay. Just give me a second.”
David stepped back as Michael lowered himself to the floor with Thorn still in his arms.
The puppy seemed to take the change in position as an invitation. He wriggled upright, planted both front paws against Michael’s chest, and pushed his nose beneath his chin. Michael caught him around the middle and sat with him between his bent knees.
“Hey, sweetheart. Look at me.”
Thorn’s ears lifted.
Michael scratched behind them, his mouth trembling into a smile when the puppy leaned so hard into his hand that he nearly fell over.
“You did good,” he told him. “You’re a good boy. You helped me.”
The tail started first. Then the movement spread through the rest of him until Michael was trying to hold a puppy who appeared to have misplaced every bone in his body. Thorn climbed into his lap, licking at his chin, and Michael laughed despite the roughness still caught in his throat.
“Yeah, I know. Very brave. You were very brave.”
David stood quietly while Michael gathered him close and pressed his face into the white fur.
It took longer than he expected before Michael looked up.
“Are you going to come down here, or do I have to explain to him that you’re sulking?”
David glanced at the puppy, who had turned at Michael’s voice and was watching him again.
“Figured I’d give him a minute.”
“He’s had a minute.” Michael held out his free hand. “Come here.”
David sat beside him, leaving enough room for Thorn to decide what he wanted. The puppy remained in Michael’s lap, studying him with an attention that felt different from the distracted curiosity of a few minutes earlier.
Michael took David’s hand and brought it between them.
The punctures had finally begun closing. He brushed his thumb carefully over the skin beside them, watching until he seemed satisfied, then rested their joined hands against his knee.
Thorn leaned forward to sniff.
David let him. A cold nose touched the drying blood, and the puppy drew back, looked up at Michael, then investigated again.
“You’re fine,” Michael murmured, stroking the back of his head. “We’re all fine.”
After a little consideration, Thorn stepped one front paw onto David’s thigh.
David rubbed beneath his chin.
“There you go. No hard feelings.”
Michael huffed a laugh and leaned against his shoulder. David turned his head enough to press a kiss into his curls, staying there while Thorn continued the slow, apparently complicated process of deciding whether both laps could be occupied at once.
In the end, he stretched across them with his hindquarters on Michael and his front paws resting on David’s leg. Michael kept a hand over his back, his fingers working through the soft fur.
“We’re done for tonight, though,” he said.
David nodded against his hair. “We’re done.”
Michael settled more fully into his side. A few moments later, his fingers found David’s bare wrist and circled it loosely, his thumb resting over the place where Thorn’s teeth had been.
David covered his hand and watched the puppy fall asleep.