Penny

Eddie wanted to hang out with dogs all day. And one cat. He does one cat every now and then, even though it’s a spicy cat, because the owner is lovely and she pays fucking well.

But that’s neither here nor there, it’s two dog Wednesday, and Eddie is using his squeegee to scrape the last of the wet clumps of fluff from the inside of the bath before he disinfects it, and then he’s done. Home time for Eddie.

Home time means kicking back in his little yard with his acoustic. He’s been making ice coffees at home, working his way through all the flavors of oat milk he can get his hands on. He found a pistachio syrup he’s pretty excited about.

Eddie’s business might be successful and his bills might be paid, but he’s not coffee shop ice coffee successful.

At least, not every day. So, yeah, coffee at home, in his yard, playing his guitar until it cools down enough for him to take Guen for a walk. He might get the little kiddie pool out for Guen, he likes that, when they play with the hose.

It’s because he’s so absorbed in these thoughts, Eddie will tell himself later, that he makes the noise he does when he turns around. Because Eddie turns and squeals and drops his squeegee and actually nearly shits himself with fear.

Because there’s a god damn wolf in his shop. Fucking thing is taller than Eddie’s hip at the shoulder. It doesn’t move though. Just stands, watching Eddie, with it’s tail gently wagging. Eddie knows dogs; this one is alert but chill right now.

Which is good, because Eddie is clutching his chest and dragging air like he’s just sprinted a mile.

“Jesus Christ,” he finally manages to get out, “you scared the absolute shit out of me.”

The dog tilts it’s head to the side, listening. Because of course it’s a dog. There’s no fucking wolves just wondering around the city. And okay, it’s a massive dog, and it’s markings are...a little wolf like. Mostly dark, a lovely brown coat, white under the muzzle. Little pale cream circles just inside and above each eye, giving the illusion of little eyebrows over each golden yellow eye.

People will breed for literally anything these days, appearance wise.

Eddie pulls his headphones off, “okay so, you got anyone with you big boy?” He’s a boy, Eddie can see without any further investigation that it’s a boy. Eddie crouches, holds out a hand, waits.

The dog comes to him easily, sniffles his fingers and then gives them a single gentle lick. Eddie stands again, lifting his hand above the dogs head, “Jesus, you are massive aren’t you?” But he waits a second, letting his hand hover, waiting to make sure there’s no reaction before letting his fingers meet the soft fur on top of the dogs head.

He immediately leans into Eddie’s touch, eyes sliding closed and tail starting to really wag, “oh you are such a good boy, aren’t you.” The dog tilts his head, guiding Eddie’s hand to behind it’s ear. The second Eddie really starts to scratch, the back leg gets going, “oh is that the spot, yes it is isn’t it. Such a good boy!”

Eddie hears the door go this time, since his headphones are off. He could have sworn he flipped the sign to closed, but maybe not, “got to see who that is,” he tells the dog, but just as Eddie goes to move, a woman appears in the doorway, she must have just let herself past the front desk, which, okay, rude.

She looks frazzled as fuck, pink and sweaty, or possibly pink and sunburned, with the heat. Her choppy ginger hair is sticking up all over the place, sticking to the sweat on her neck and forehead. Her tote bag looks packed to over flowing and awkward as fuck to carry, and in the other hand she’s got a pair of sneakers. Definitely not her sneakers, Eddie figures fast, considering he can see the sandals on her feet and those sneakers are several sizes bigger.

She’s wearing jean shorts and a white blouse with little flowers on, and she looks one hundred percent done, “for fucks sake Steve, you can’t just run off like that,” she’s a little short of breath. The dog hasn’t moved away from Eddie, but he is looking back over his shoulder at the woman. His tail is still wagging, but it’s a little subdued now.

“Your dog is called Steve?” Is all Eddie can really think to say. Who would name such a majestic creature Steve?

“Oh he’s not my dog,” she tries to wave her hand dismissively and realizes she’s encumbered by the stuffed full tote, “he’s my friend Steve’s dog.”

Eddie blinks slowly.

“Your friend Steve, named his dog...Steve?”

The dog sighs. It’s loud enough that Eddie looks down at the dog instead. It lets it’s tongue flop out of it’s mouth; it looks like it’s grinning.

“Well, uh.” She finally seems to realize how fucking batshit that is. “No, obviously, Steve just calls him Dog. I call him Steve.”

“You have a friend called Steve, and you also call his dog, Steve?”

Eddie stares at her. She stares back. All Eddie can think is that is rapidly becoming the fucking weirdest interaction he’s ever had.

“Well I mean...I call the dog Steve, and then my friend Steve Human Steve, so it’s not confusing.”

“Right,” Eddie can feel himself nodding, “makes total sense.” It does not make sense. It makes no sense at all.

Dog moves, and Eddie is going with Dog because it’s still, somehow better than Steve and they both watch as he stands at the bottom of the ramp that leads into the dog wash. He wags his tail a little more, looking at the woman again.

“Oh no, like fuck am I hanging around while you get a fucking wash and blow dry-”

Dog whines, and he puts one foot at the base of the ramp.

Eddie looks between them, waiting. He doesn’t know why he’s waiting really. This is his shop. Oh yeah, this is his shop, “I’m actually closed for the day now, he tells Dog. And then he realizes that’s fucking insane and reverts to speaking to the human person in the shop, “so you can book him in for an appointment if you’d like.”

Dog whines. He puts his other front paw on the ramp.

The woman sighs, deeply, “he says he’s closing, we have to go.”

Dog huffs. And then just fucking, sits. He just sits down. It occurs to Eddie that Dog looks like a hundred and eighty pounds of solid muscle. He looks back to the ginger woman who just, shrugs, really unhelpfully.

“Look man, you can wash the dog or we can stand here forever,” she looks at the dog, hissing at him, “because he’s a complete fucking dick,” and then turns back to Eddie, a tight smile on her face.

Eddie looks back at the dog, then at the woman. “I’ll be charging time and a half for this.”

She just shrugs, “I don’t give a fuck, I’m not the one paying for it. Charge double.”

Eddie blinks at that, not one hundred percent sure what she means, because Eddie is getting paid, “I charge up front.”

“Fine,” and she turns back and heads through the doorway into the front of the shop, and Eddie hears the little swinging door which means she gone back around the front of the desk.

“Okay,” he tells Dog.

The woman’s name is Robin, and the reason her tote is full to bursting is because she has a set of clothes stuffed in there. She tumbles them out onto the desk, rooting through the pockets of some jeans until she turns up a wallet. She pays cash. It’s not her wallet; Eddie briefly catches sight of the drivers license, and it’s definitely a picture of a dude, even if Eddie doesn’t catch any details.

“How long is thing going to take?”

“Uhm,” Eddie thinks, “he’s double coated so drying will take a while, but he looks in really good condition so brushing shouldn’t be an issue, couple of hours? Maybe a bit longer, it’s hard to tell with new grooms.”

“Okay. No worries I guess I’ll just,” she indicates the front door, “be back in a bit?”

“Sure, sure. There’s a place a couple of doors down that does really good ice coffees. And muffins.”

“Ideal, you’re fucking buying me lunch!” She yells as she heads out the door. Eddie just stands there for a long minute, processing. Mental illness seems the most obvious reason for what just occurred, but Robin seemed nice enough, so Eddie’s just...going to do his job, and not worry about shit that isn’t anything to do with him.

Dog is exactly where Eddie left him, “is your friend okay? She seems kind of...unhinged? But like, just a bit?”

Dog huffs, but he stands again, taking another step up the ramp. Eddie puts a hand out, “wait,” he tells Dog firmly. Dog listens. Eddie’s not surprised really, he seems really well trained. “I just got to disinfect in here, just in case,” Eddie explains before spraying down the tiled sides and large shower tray at the bottom of the bath. He then scrubs and rinses before pulling out the moveable barrier, “okay, up you go.”

Dog walks in like he’s done this a million times before, and Eddie mixes up two canisters of shampoo. He looks Dog over, sighs, and makes up a third. Dog is fucking huge.

Dog is also very easy to work with. He lifts his paws easily for Eddie, he stands still and doesn’t fuss at all during the wash, leaning happily into Eddie’s touch the whole time. He stands patiently pliant when Eddie slides the snug ear protect band over his head. Dog doesn’t even react to the dryer. “It’s a good job you’re easy, you know,” Eddie tells him, Dog tilts his head, like he can understand what Eddie’s saying, “Wednesday is my afternoon off, I usually go home now.” Eddie feels a little bad, “I bet Guen is wondering where I am.”

Eddie’s on alert, as he always is with a new dog, because you just never know. But Dog is perfect, he never shows any sign that he’s getting tired or stressed out. He does tug a little when Eddie trims his nails, which really only needed a tiny bit off anyway. He never whines, never fusses. Eddie shows him the clippers and he sniffs them, but otherwise doesn’t react, “okay big guy, just going to tidy up these fluffy feet,” and Dog doesn’t move an inch while Eddie works. He stands perfectly when Eddie holds up each foot to shave out his paw pads.

“Okay, I’ve got blueberry breeze and cotton fresh,” Eddie holds up his two current dog safe colognes letting Dog sniff both. He nudges the hand with the blueberry breeze. “Good choice,” Eddie sprays him down, stepping back. He really is a lovely dog, and Eddie has done a good job, even if he does say so himself, “you look incredible.”

Dog’s tongue hangs out of his mouth, and he still looks like he’s grinning, “okay handsome, hold still,” Eddie pulls out his phone, taking a couple of pictures. The he lowers the table and Dog hops off, “okay, hopefully your mad friend will be back in a minute, and I can actually finally go home.”

Dog whines, just quietly, pressing his head into Eddie’s hand for more fuss, “you like that, huh? You are a very good boy you know. And the most handsome boy, yes you are. Even if your owner has given you a dumb name. I can’t believe he calls you Dog.”

Eddie fusses Dog for another minute, and then Eddie hears the door go and he figures that must be Robin, “okay big boy, time to go.”

Dog stands on his hind legs, front paws resting on the counter, and he’s refusing to leave even though Robin is holding the door open for him.

“Uhm,” Eddie says, “do you get this a lot or..?”

“Honestly, you’d be surprised,” she says, coming back to the counter.

I actually don’t think I would, Eddie thinks but carefully does not say. He did charge time and half for this one, after all. And it’s not like it was hard work.

“So can we book him in again?”

Dog makes a quiet boof, just a whisper of a bark, and Eddie doesn’t feel like he has much choice but to pull out his diary, “well I mean, he’s in stellar condition, whoever is brushing him at home is doing a perfect job. I realistically wouldn’t need to see him for four or five weeks.”

Dog whines.

“That sounds perfect,” Robin says, and then turns to Dog, “because as you heard, any more than that would probably be weird.”

Dog huffs and drops back to the floor.

Eddie chooses to ignore all of this and rattles off a couple of dates in five weeks time instead.

Eddie’s not even surprised. He expected to see Dog again next month, but, some instinct tells him he sort of thought this would happen, too. It’s Wednesday. One week since he last saw Dog.

Dog looks like he’s had a fight with an entire forest, and the forest probably lost. There’s mud plastered half way up his legs; actual bits of twig caught up in his coat.

Eddie sighs, and Robin just looks at him expectantly. Eddie had been at the desk when they had come in, just tidying his desk away before he went out the door. And went home. He was so close to a caramel ice coffee. So close.

He didn’t pay attention last time, considering, but this time he’s noticed; Dog isn’t even on a leash when he comes through the door. “State law says all dogs must be under close control, and have to be wearing a collar with owner identification while out.”

Robin turns to Dog, “did you hear that?”

Dog just huffs, and walks himself through the low swinging door and out back to the grooming area. Robin and Eddie just stare at each other, a weird stand off that lasts several seconds before Eddie caves, “I’m charging double this time.”

She just shrugs and digs out the same wallet as before.

Why, you may ask yourselves, would Eddie Munson dog groomer and thrash metal enthusiast, be in a craft store? It’s because Eddie Munson is also cool enough to play Dungeons and Dragons with a regular group. Right now, it’s his turn to dungeon master. And right now...he has a plan.

Sort of.

Kind of.

He thinks he has a plan for how he wants this dungeon to play out, and he thinks the best way to do that is to have the characters be able to reveal random effects or traps depending on where their characters have moved in the dungeon.

Last night, Eddie thought it would be a fucking cool idea if he could execute it. Now, looking at craft supplies, he thinks it might be a little time consuming. He’s going to have to cut out a lot of little squares of card, and then do some cutting and sticking so the colors remain hidden.

He’s also picked up some metallic gel pens because, why not? They look cool and he might be able to use them for his little foray into crafting a dungeon floor.

He thinks it’ll be cool if it works out how he wants it too.

He’s staring at different colors of shiny foil card when a conversation in the next aisle over gets louder and therefore more interesting, “I am not covering you in glitter. This is insane,” a woman raises her voice. A vaguely familiar voice.

“Come on Robs please, just the once, alright?”

Kinky, Eddie thinks to himself. And he is not one to kink shame, but some times he does maybe ask...kink why? Surely that would be a nightmare to clean up.

Unless you did it outside. Or in like, a kiddie pool or something, maybe.

Eddie makes his way past all the craft supplies, turning the corner and coming face to face with possibly the most attractive man Eddie has ever seen.

“Hi,” he says, “Eddie, right?”

And Eddie’s never seen this man before in his life. He would remember.

“I- yeah. Have we, uhm, have we met?”

Beautiful man is clutching two large shakers of glitter, “well, I mean, not technically-” and then he nearly fumbles his shakers, and Eddie suddenly realizes that this is the man who wants to be covered in glitter. And Robin has just bumped into him and nearly knocked him over.

“Oh hi Eddie.”

“Hi. Robin, hello-”

“This is Steve,” she clouts Steve on the shoulder so hard he nearly fumbles his sex glitter again, “you know, human Steve.”

“Oh. Oh right, you’re Dog’s owner?”

Steve blinks, looking back and Robin and then back to Eddie again, “yeah...yeah, Dog. That’s right.”

“So we...haven’t met?” Eddie clarifies, because, just like every other time he sees Robin, this interaction is so fucking weird Eddie’s starting to think that he might be the one whose lost his mind.

“No no,” Steve fumbles for a second, “I, uhm, saw your Instagram, you know, with all the dogs.”

And Eddie does know, because he posts a shit load of pictures of dogs he’s groomed; with permission of course. Also, plenty of selfies of him and Guen.

“I showed him, you know, since you did a good job with Steve.”

Eddie lets himself, just for a second, stare off into the middle distance of the craft store. Maybe he could just turn and walk away, “well,” he starts, searching desperately for something to say, “Dog is always a pleasure to groom.”

Steve’s face splits into a massive smile, and Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s so pretty. Eddie could probably forgive the fact that Human Steve seems to be as unhinged as Robin. He can’t move past the sex glitter though.

Also, he reminds himself, Steve is doing the sex glitter thing with Robin, so it doesn’t matter if Eddie would like to kiss his pretty face. It’s unavailable. And probably very straight. And almost certainly going to have glitter on it later.

“He likes getting groomed by you,” Steve tells him, “he likes it a lot.”

Eddie has no idea how Steve would know either way, but Eddie will take the compliment, “well, he makes it easy. And he is very handsome, do you think if I groom him again, I could put some pics on socials?” Eddie carefully doesn't admit that he already has two dozen pictures of Dog.

If Eddie thought Steve was pleased before, he’s practically glowing now, looking down at Eddie with a soft smile, “you think he’s handsome?”

Eddie feels, vaguely, like he missed a step in the conversation, considering Steve’s shift in tone, “uhm? Yes?”

“Well he thinks-”

“And that is all!” Robin shoves at Steve, “lets go stud, places to be.”

Eddie watches as Robin bodily pushes Steve towards the registers, and Steve allows himself to be moved, but he watches Eddie over his shoulder, right until they can’t see each other any more.

Okay, Eddie thinks, so that just happened.

It’s Wednesday, and Eddie hasn’t even bothered to turn the sign. He’s kept his headphones slung around his neck, music playing quietly. He’s cleaning up from his second, and what should be last, client of the day, when right on cue, he hears the front door open and close, and then the low swinging door that separates the desk from the small reception come waiting area swings on it’s hinges.

And Dog is there in the doorway, absolutely plastered in glitter. He looks like a mythical creature in a low budget movie. Robin appears behind him, “he got into the glitter,” she tells Eddie, for no reason at all.

He can fucking see that he got into the glitter. Eddie prays that this isn’t post sexy time glitter. Just normal, virgin, unsullied glitter.

He has no way to ask without sounding like a maniac. He sighs, “okay, see you in a couple of hours.”

The glitter seemed to rinse out of the bath real easy, so at least there’s that. Steve stands and lets Eddie blow dry him without issue, and after, despite Eddie’s very thorough shampoo job, there still seems to be the odd shiny bit of glitter caught in Dog’s coat, “oh well, I got most of it I guess. You’re just going to look a tiny little bit magical for a while,” Eddie stands back to survey his work. He hasn’t checked nails, and he most certainly isn’t clipping anything since he’s literally just done both of those things two weeks ago.

When he shifts in the light, there really is only the occasional sparkle, so Eddie calls it good enough. They have to wait for Robin, so Eddie perches himself on the grooming table, Dog seems to sense that they’re done, and he sits next to Eddie. Eddie cant help himself but go through Dog’s neck fluff with his metal comb. It runs through smooth, the fur running like water through the teeth of the comb. Dog’s eyes close, and he sits there, relaxed as anything, just letting Eddie fuss, “can I tell you a secret,” Eddie says, and Dogs eyes open again, watching. Waiting.

Eddie wonders just how many words Dog understands, because he’s yet to fail to follow an instruction Eddie’s given him. Unless he doesn’t want to, obviously, but that’s whole other thing with Dog.

“Your human might be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in real life.” He’s just fiddling now, playing with Dogs fur, pushing it one way and then the other, watching it shine and shift like silk under his fingers. Dog seems just as happy as Eddie to sit like this. “He seemed an okay guy, too. Other than being, you know, a bit crazy. Not as bad as Robin though, whatever she has going on probably needs professional help.” Dog snorts. “They seem pretty well suited to each other, at least-” Eddie is interrupted, losing his train of thought as the door opens. “come on, I think that’s your ride.”

It’s still hot. It’s been hot for weeks. It’s starting to feel never ending. Eddie sits in his lawn chair, with his feet in the kiddie pool, wearing short shorts he wouldn’t be caught dead in in public. He’s sticky with sun lotion, because Eddie is white as fucking snow and he knows for a fact that if he burns he will go red as a fucking lobster, peel, and then be white again a couple of days later.

It’s just not worth it.

“This is the life, huh boy?”

Guen, Eddie’s black shepherd mix, wags his tail sleepily. He’s lying flat out in the four inches of water in the pool, head resting on the inflatable edge. Just as Eddie is about to sip his ice coffee, his work phone rings. Eddie carries it about with him, since he’s closed two days a week, he doesn’t want to miss anything. He doesn’t have a lot of space for new customers anyway now, but people always want to cancel and rearrange and whatever.

Eddie drags himself up and hops over the toasted grass, pushing the door open and snagging his phone off the side, “hi this is Eddie.”

“Hi! Eddie hi! This is Robin. You just wouldn’t believe what’s happened.”

Eddie manages to keep his sigh inside. Honestly, Robin could tell him that Dog has fallen into an oil slick and then run through a chicken coop and at this point, Eddie would probably believe her, “why don’t you tell me?”

“Dog has a lump of gum in his fur, what should I do?”

Okay, that’s fine. It’s not something that Eddie would actually like, have to deal with right now,, “okay, easiest thing is probably to just hold the gum away from his body, and then trim underneath. It might leave him a bit of a shorter patch, but it’s guaranteed to get it all out with the least amount of stress for Dog, and I can try and tidy it up when I see him next.”

“Okay, do you have time today?”

“I’m actually closed today-”

“Uhm,” Eddie can hear a hissed conversation, he can’t make out all of the words but...he thinks the second voice might be Steve? And he might have heard Robin hiss something like not putting fucking gum on you, before she comes back and speaks properly to Eddie, “how soon can you do?”

Well, I could make time tomorrow, Eddie figures, especially if I cut short lunch, “okay, bring him in tomorrow, about one, this is not for a full groom, I don’t have time, but I’ll have half an hour to brush him out and make sure there’s nothing else stuck, and try and tidy up the trimmed bit?”

“Okay, yeah that’s great. Also, Human Steve, who is not my boyfriend in any way, says thank you he really appreciates it.”

Eddie blinks, staring across his yard. Just when you think it couldn’t get any stranger, “Human Steve who isn’t your boyfriend,” Eddie repeats. Because that’s not a bizarre thing to suddenly volunteer.

“Oh no. Human Steve is in fact, very single. Like, painfully single.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, uncertain how to reply. He’s sure he can hear more hissed conversation in the background, possibly why are you like this, but Eddie can’t be sure. He’s also uncertain about what to do with that information that he’s just been given. “Okay.”

“Great! See you tomorrow!”

Eddie cannot for the life of him, find any part of Dog’s coat that looks like it’s been trimmed or cut or hacked or otherwise changed in anyway. “Are you sure you got gum in your fur?”

Eddie doesn’t know why he’s even asking, he won’t be getting an answer.

“I’m starting to think you just like hanging out here, huh?” Eddie scritches the place Dog really likes, right behind his soft ear. Eddie sighs, “I think Robin must have imagined the whole thing you know, your coat is perfect as always. And to think I’ve given up lunch for this.”

Eddie’s stomach times that perfectly, taking it’s opportunity to make itself known and rumble hungrily.

Dog whines, so at least someone feels sorry for him. But he’s getting paid to basically do nothing this time, so there’s that.

Eddie’s genuinely concerned now for the survival of his lawn. Not, like, concerned enough to do anything about it, but the middle part is looking somewhat...scorched. He’s actually kind of missing the air con he has at the shop – got to keep the puppies cool – but sitting in his sad back yard with his feet in the water will have to do.

Taking Mondays off is just the best feeling. Sure, Eddie usually uses Monday to catch up with housework, but it’s just too hot for it today. And besides, it’ll only be dirty again next week. And whose going to say anything? Guen? Probably not.

Guen himself has abandoned the pool to lie out on the grass that is shaded by trees at the bottom of the yard. He looks like a shining black puddle from where Eddie’s sitting. He leaves the back door open, so Guen can come and go as he pleases in the heat, but he seems content crashed out on the grass. Until he suddenly isn’t, and he stands up and barks. Once, and then again, “Guen,” Eddie calls once, and that’s enough. Guen is a very well behaved dog, Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way, being the truly responsible dog owner that he is.

Another dog appears between the trees, and it’s obvious really fast considering the size of the dog who it is. It’s Dog. Eddie watches as Guen goes right up to Dog, sniffing his muzzle. Dog takes it good naturedly, and after thirty seconds of thorough sniffing, Dog drops into a play bow, Guen responds, and then they’re playing. They chase each other back and forth across the yard, sometimes rearing up and nudging each other over; Guen doesn’t really stand a chance, Dog is so much bigger. But he’s gentle, really gentle, and they seem happy enough.

It gives Eddie a minute to sit and wonder why the fuck has Dog turned up in my yard. How did he even know this was my yard? Is this a weird coincidence?

And then, more practically, thank fuck Robin rang me, I should be able to work out which number is hers and call her. Otherwise, Eddie would have had to have gone into the shop to get Robin's number from his bookings.

It isn’t long before both dogs give up, it’s so hot, and they come over to the kiddie pool, panting desperately. Guen drinks from the kiddie pool before lying down in it again. Dog sniffs it but doesn’t drink; probably has fancier tastes.

Eddie goes in to get his work phone, and he rinses a dog bowl and fills it with fresh tap water before taking it outside. His instincts were right, Dog did not want to drink sun warmed, plastic smelling water, but he does drink from the bowl.

Eddie resumes his seat, and eventually, Robin answers, “Hello?”

“Hi, Hi Robin, it’s Eddie, the groomer?”

“Oh yeah, hi?”

“Hey, yeah, the thing is, Dog is here. Do you think you could come get him, or contact Steve or-”

She snorts, “nah. I’m busy, I can’t get him. Can you just- like, keep him for a bit?”

No one can see him, so Eddie is free to fully scowl with no judgement. What kind of people are they? This is just downright irresponsible. “Look, he is the owners responsibility, so I really do need to insist someone comes-”

“Yeah, actually, you know what, how about I message you Human Steve’s number?”

“Yes, thank you,” and that way I can give him a piece of my mind, Eddie thinks. Dog still doesn’t have a collar on, and that’s just not safe.

It goes to voicemail. Of course it goes to voicemail. Eddie sighs. Okay, so, Dog is really well behaved and seems content enough. He’s currently sniffing his way very thoroughly around Eddie’s lounge, which, fine, whatever.

“Okay, I’m going to give him ten minutes and then I’ll call him again. Okay?” Dog, predictably, doesn’t answer.

Ten minutes later, Eddie is pacing the length of his back yard, listening to the generic automated please leave a message.

Just to be annoying, he hangs up and calls again immediately. Guen’s crashed out on the grass again, but Dog is keeping pace with Eddie, sniffing around on the grass.

Eddie calls a fourth time, getting to the edge of his yard and pausing. He can hear a phone ringing. He pulls his phone away from his head and, sure enough...he hangs up. It stops. He calls again. It starts again. Eddie follows the sound around the side of the house. It’s not even a fun ringtone, it just sounds like the ringtone that the phone probably started with.

He has to call again, but he follows the sound onto his own porch. And there, under the one ratty wicker chair Eddie has one his front porch, is a rolled up set of clothes. Well, shorts and a tee and a pair of ratty boat shoes. And in the pocket, a phone.

Eddie tests it, just to make sure he’s not totally insane. He calls Human Steve. The phone in his other hand starts ringing, his own number lit up on the screen. Next to him Dog whines, really loudly. “Oh my god, has something happened to Steve?” Eddie asks the Dog.

Who doesn’t answer.

“No, wait, that’s stupid. Why would his stuff be here? Oh my god he’s naked. Wherever he is he’s naked.” Eddie forces himself to stop and think for a second, because this makes no fucking sense.

“Maybe he’s gone for a...naturalist walk.” Dog huffs. “No, no you’re right, that’s stupid. I should call Robin, he might be in trouble.”

Robin, thank god, answers, “hi, hi Robin, Dog is still here, but I just found Steve’s clothes like, on my front porch. Even his phone is here, and I’m worried he’s like, not okay.”

“Eddie he’s fine, he can take care of himself-”

“But he’s naked!” Eddie genuinely now is questioning his sanity. He’s looking around, expecting naked Steve to jump out at him at any time.

“Yeah, happens a lot, look, listen Eddie, are you listening to me?”

She actually sounds serious, so Eddie does take a minute, and a deep breath. Dog nudges his hand, and Eddie pets the top of his head reflexively. It’s quite comforting. “Yeah, yeah okay I’m listening.”

“Do you ever wonder why you never see Superman and Clark Kent at the same time?”

It’s so out of left field, it takes what feels like a long time for Eddie to even realize what she’s said, “what?”

“Just think about it, okay?”

“What? No! Robin what has-” she hangs up. “She hung up. What in the actual fuck is wrong with these people?” Eddie stands, considering just fucking...screaming. These people are insane. He has no idea what to do. He doesn’t know what’s happening, or why. He tries to reassure himself this he is fine and he's not like, losing it.

“Fuck it,” Eddie gathers up the pile of clothes, “fuck this. Fuck everything. I’m keeping these, I’m bringing them in the house, and Human Steve can walk home fucking naked.” Eddie stomps into the house with his bundle, leaving it all folded on the kitchen counter, “why would he even leave it there? Does that mean he brought you here?”

Dog sits again at Eddie’s feet, his massive head leaning against Eddie’s side. “I know, people make no sense. No sense at all.” But the irritation slides away really fast, and back into concern. Leaving your clothes, and arguably more importantly, your phone, before going off somewhere is just...irresponsible.

“Okay, okay, we can work this out right, okay. Lets just...work the problem. There has to be an answer. Human Steve did not get abducted, right? Because who would leave his shit on my porch? So that means he left it there on purpose, obviously, so...Human Steve...can’t have gone far, right?”

Dog steps away, and he barks.

“Oh. Oh, so Human Steve is close by?”

Dog barks again.

“Oh. Oh I’m talking to a dog, oh. Well, I mean I talk to dogs all the time, that’s normal, but I mean I know they’re never going to answer-” Dog barks.

And Dog is watching him not like any other dog Eddie’s ever known, and he has known a lot of dogs. “No. No, I’m going crazy. I’m going crazy, because Steve’s clothes are here. And Robin said she was going to cover Steve in glitter, but then you...you were covered in glitter-” Dog barks again.

Eddie’s insane. He’s lost it. That’s the only logical explanation for what’s happening here. He can’t be...this can’t...but Robin talks to Dog like he can understand her. And… “you’re called Steve. And Steve is...also...called Steve.” Dog barks. And every single interaction is a little less insane if...if Dog could actually understand her.

“And...why don’t you see Superman and Clark Kent at the same time…” Eddie trails off. Dog's tail is wagging now.

In Eddie’s defense, no one is ever going to find out about this. So it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Eddie engages in this moment of absolute insanity. He can say this, and then nothing will happen, and then he can go on with his life.

Eddie’s voice is very weak, barely a whisper, when he forces out, “Steve?”

It’s not like how it’s described in the Dungeons and Dragons books. It doesn’t look painful, there’s no bones snapping or pained growling. Just...the fur recedes, like water running away, as Dog stands up and then...there’s Human Steve.

He’s naked.

“You’re naked,” Eddie squeaks, shoving Steve’s clothes at him and turning away. As Eddie listens to Steve pull on his clothes, the gravity of everything else sinks in, “and you’re a werewolf,” Eddie covers his face, “I’ve gone insane, I’m lying outside with heatstroke, I’ve passed out, I’m drowning in four inches of water-”

Strong, but gentle hands turn Eddie, and then carefully wrap around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face, “we’re not allowed to tell people,” Steve explains, “people have to work it out for themselves.”

“Oh, like, you could get arrested by the Cryptid FBI or something?”

Steve smiles, and it’s just...so lovely. Even more lovely from this close together. Steve has really good hair...which, makes sense, actually.

“Something like that,” Steve says, still weirdly soft and quiet, considering Eddie knows he’s housing a fucking massive wolf.

“Oh my god I’ve been, we,” Eddie makes an incoherent squeaking noise, “I washed you-oh my god-”

“I know,” Steve grins, “being groomed by your mate is...very important to us. I’m sorry I lied a little but...once you’d done it once I couldn’t stay away. I had to wait for you to find out and...well, Dog found you first,” Steve shrugs, “his impulse control is...questionable.”

Eddie looks down, Steve’s not holding his wrists any more; they’ve migrated to holding hands. Both hands, fingers linked together. Eddie is apparently fine with it, and he takes a second to decide he’s not going to examine that too closely. He swallows thickly, “mates huh?”

“Uh hu.”

“Is that like a magical, werewolf thing?”

“Could say that, yeah.”

“Uh hu. Uh hu,” because Eddie has absolutely no idea what to say to that. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing. Steve’s still looking down at him with that same soft smile, and Eddie has approximately fifty thousand questions. He knows Dog though, knows his temperament, “I may have questions.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” soft, gentle, kind.

“Good to know Robin isn’t certifiable.”

“Debatable,” Steve replies, trying to hide his smile. It doesn’t work at all, and Eddie finds himself smiling back.

“I think...I think I should be allowed to pay for the first date, I’ve have a very well paying customer just lately.”

"And I hear he's such a good boy-"

"Nope, nopenopenope-" Eddie tries to bring his hands up, tries to hide his burning face, Steve doesn't let him. "I'm never living this down."

"Nope."