Leashed by Him

Coffee, Crumbs and Nerves

I lean back against the couch and put my hands over my face. Oh, my god. So dumb. Finally, a chance, and I blow it. "Careful, it's hot," I mouth against my hands in a grimaced face.

I can feel the couch move as Thor stands up and turns around, trying to shove his face between my hands. When he doesn't succeed, he instead turns to his main weapon: tongue. I quickly take my hands away from my face and try to shove him off, but the sheer weight and size of him makes that impossible. Thankfully, he stops licking me, settling for putting his head on my right shoulder while I stroke his ear awkwardly with my right hand.

"Ugh. What will we do with me, Thor?" I ask, looking at him through the side of my eye. He pants and wags his tail. "Not a lot of help from you, buddy." I look back forward, before slapping both my hands on my legs like a Midwestern dad at the end of a family gathering.

"Well, I'm off work, so we might as well get to it." I grab the leash, collar and coffee cup off the table and get up. He runs ahead of me, stopping briefly to check that I'm coming, then runs on down to the kitchen. I'm slowly following after him.

Honestly, the feeling of lying in fresh sheets, wrapped in the scent of him from the pillow and comforter... it had been a great night's sleep. I could go for another one. With not just Thor as the other being in the bed.

I try to ignore those thoughts, while I put leash and collar in their place, then grab a scoop of his food. I'm about to bring it to my lips when I realize what I'm doing. Good thing I caught myself. Instead, I pour my coffee into his bowl. Thor and I both stare at it for a few seconds before I realize what happened.

Grumbling, I put the dog food on the counter, then grab his bowl off the floor. I freeze as I imagine Chris coming from behind, slapping my ass while I'm bent over like this. Head-height with Thor I slowly shake my head. "I need to get home and do something about this, buddy."

Quickly, I rinse off his bowl in the sink, then place it on the floor and pour his food. He sits down, waiting patiently for the go-word. I stand up straight and look at him for a few seconds before I give the word and he starts scarfing it down. I'm so proud - our training really took off when we got the food word down.

Him occupied with that, I return to the master bedroom to find the mess I'd left behind, still strewn about my backpack. I quickly stuff it all in there, mentally checking off stuff I'd brought. I'm still missing a used t-shirt, a pair of underwear I'd used, and my toothbrush. As I stand up to survey the room, another mess catches my eye.

The mess is trailing towards the bathroom. The turtleneck he'd worn, the pants, the... boxers...

My face flashes red again as I think about him, naked. And so close.

I glance up towards the door. I know my toothbrush must be out there. And it'll give me an excuse..

I bite my lower lip, before resolutely walking over there. I still my hand on the doorhandle, taking two deep breaths, and when I exhale on the third, I push it down.