feed the doge
draczac
A favor. Zac had almost forgotten that most offerings were a means to an end; he simply enjoyed the company. Aside from the annoying rookie he was partnered with at work and the superior officer he had to report to at the end of each shift, Zac rarely spent time in the company of others. Most of the time, he was able to convince himself he was fine on his own, but some nights were down right lonely. He considered his options. He made more than enough money for a single person. He didn’t have anyone he truly wished ill will toward. The only thing he wanted, the only thing he kept coming back to, was friendship. He doubted that was a grantable wish.
“Just… come back for dinner some times?” He hadn’t known he was going to end his sentence with that particular request, but it was out there now and he couldn’t take it back. He blushed again, for the third time that evening, and focused his attention on his empty plate.
—— The man tilted his head, not sure what to make of the request before a mirthful chuckle rose up from him. “That’s all? I think I can make that happen, especially if the food is just as good as it was tonight.” As if remembering his manners, Perro daubed his mouth (with the tablecloth instead of the napkin, but he tried) and rose from the table with his glass of wine, wordlessly settling onto the couch, quite sated. If Zac had intended to finish off his meatloaf for the rest of the week, he’d severely underestimated how much food Perro could put away, leaving enough for maybe two more days, but not the entire week. With a glance at Zac over the back of the couch, Perro pats the empty space beside him. “Come here.” Another sip of wine, a faint command in his voice. It’d be unwise to disobey, but did Zac really want to?
He couldn’t help but smile as Perro used the table cloth as a napkin. It was cute that he was trying. He watched as the man made himself comfortable. He’d gladly cook a different meal every night if it meant having someone to eat dinner with. He took his own glass and the bottle of wine with him as he moved to sit next to the hound. Command or not, Zac was happy to. “I’m sorry if my request is… unusual. I just enjoy the company,” Zac said as he sank into the couch cushion, his knee bumping Perro’s.
“It’s not that unusual. I’m very good company,” Perro replies. Without much warning, but carefully not as to startle the draculoid too much, the hound masquerading as a human wraps his arms around the man and pulls him against him, to the smell of the desert and the ethereal warm and security the beast radiated. He lays back with Zac against him, running fingers through the city man’s clean, kempt hair. “…sorry if this is bad. I’m not used to cuddling as a…” he trails off. “More limbs than I know what to do with….”
Zac supposed he should have been startled or nervous, but the moment the other man’s arms wrapped around him he felt… safe. Not like he’d felt unsafe before, but he felt warm and protected on an intimate level. He felt his muscles relax as the two of them laid back, a lazy smile making its way to his lips. He loved when people ran their fingers through his hair. He couldn’t stop his contented sigh as he felt the rumble of Perro’s words through his chest. “No, this is… I like this. It’s nice.” He laid his palm against the god’s stomach, marveling at how warm, how real, he was.










