29. hushed conversation in-between kisses - Theo/Mason
Mason can’t help it - the right corner of his mouth pulls up all on its own at the sound of the front door being opened and shut. If Mason wasn’t waiting for Theo to come home, he may have not heard it, that’s how careful Theo is. Just a click when his key unlocks the lock, five seconds silence, a soft thud. These days, it’s better that way.
Coming home from a long shift at work, Theo tries to make as little sound as possible for the same reason why Mason is already in bed with all the lights off: Bean.
They got her only four days ago from the local animal shelter. Actually, they were looking for a cat. Because a cat can take itself on walks, as Theo had said. Mason had nothing against it, quite the opposite. Any potential conversation about children lay far in the future, but they agreed that life had been good since they’d moved in together, and that they were only looking to take their relationship further.
Adopting a cat it was. A shared responsibility. A small creature, a life depending on them. Not only on them as two separate adult persons, but on them as a couple, a family. Because appointments at the vet’s and feeding schedules and cleaning out the litter box were one thing, but Theo and Mason wanted to give their new furry child love and warmth and security too. A home.
They didn’t adopt a cat. They could have, of course. Mason would have liked to take every last one of them home, actually. But they happened to pass by a few cages with recently rescued dogs in them, and Theo fell in love. Mason knew it before he had a chance to look inside the cage himself. It was written all over Theo’s face, all over his body. It was in the way he stopped in his tracks, the way he crouched down, made himself small, moved his hand to the metal bars without moving much at all. It was in the way he whispered, in the way he waited, ever so patiently, offering a gentleness no human had ever received from him, not even Mason.
Physically, Bean, as they later decided to name her, could have been in a much worse condition, judging by the story they were told about the first few weeks of her young life. But she was afraid. At first, Mason couldn’t even tell the exact shade of her fur since she was pressed into the far corner, tail tucked between her legs, eyes to the ground, ears twitching with every noise, however far away it may have come from.
Theo hadn’t said a single word, not counting his whispering to the small bundle of panic in the cage. However, there was no discussion to be had anyway.
“We’re taking her,” Mason said. If Theo was surprised by the fact that Mason wasn’t making him ask for it, then he didn’t let it on.
No, Mason didn’t care that the puppy was only four months old and still in need of all the training. No, he didn’t mind waiting in the car for three hours and twenty minutes before Theo came out carrying the shivering pup in his arms because that’s how long it took from the opening of her cage to her letting Theo touch her. No, even if she was never going to be free of the anxiety, even if she was never going to trust humans or play with other dogs, he didn’t want to look at the cats anymore, and he didn’t want to consider a different dog.
Now, she sleeps in the corner behind the dresser in the bedroom, squeezed in tight between furniture and wall. Mason put a blanket there for her yesterday because she clearly wasn’t ready to sleep anywhere less hidden, like in the dog bed they bought her, or on any one of the other cushions they had placed in every room of the apartment.
She takes her food under the kitchen table and only once Theo and Mason have left the room. The doorbell, any telephone ringing, the clattering of dishes, the sound from the TV or the washing machine, too hasty steps along the hallway, any sudden movement, even just the slightest raise of voices - everything scares her. She seeks out corners, shadows to hide for sleeping, moves around again and again before settling down, wakes up kicking and whining just minutes later.
It’s been four days, and endless heartbreak watching her. It’s been four days, and the two hours that it’s been since Mason last heard her waking are a new record. Baby steps. No, he doesn’t mind that he hasn’t gotten to pet her yet or that she sometimes growls when he comes near her. He’s going to love her until her world is right again. They both are.
Theo’s shadow appears in the doorframe. They leave all doors open now, wanting to avoid making Bean feel trapped anywhere inside the apartment. Silently, shadow-Theo bends down to get out of his shoes, tip-toes inside the room, lifting the covers and crawling into bed beside Mason. It’s funny how, to Mason, this feels like coming home, even when he’s been there for hours, even when Theo is the one who’s cold and still fully dressed and smelling of the outside.
Maybe home is not the apartment they share, but a familiar scent, a gentle brush of fingers against his cheek, the taste of Theo’s lips on his own, the soft pressure followed by a smile, an exhale, a hello. Followed by another kiss on the lips.
“Hi,” Mason whispers, pulls Theo closer into the warmth of their bed, puts a hand on Theo's neck, kisses him again. He can’t imagine ever getting sick of this. “How was work?” He asks without taking his lips off of Theo’s. They’ve had plenty of conversations like this, chest to chest, legs entwined, breath mixing, lacking the patience to talk first, kiss later.
“Rough,” Theo whispers in response. Another kiss follows. “Too long. How’s the baby?”
“Asleep.” Not even when he wants to tell Theo about the progress they’re currently making in the sleeping department can Mason resist kissing him first. “We’ve passed the two-hour mark.”
Theo fully wraps both arms around Mason and pulls him as close to his chest as physically possible. It’s the safest and warmest a person could possibly feel. This time, he kisses Mason twice before letting him speak again, the second kiss lasting an extra moment.
“I may have a new trick,” Mason whispers. By placing his next kiss right over the corner of Mason’s mouth, Theo doesn’t really stop him from explaining. Neither does the series of kisses to his cheek, temple and forehead.
“I found her in the laundry basket today.”
“Hiding again,” Theo mutters, lips moving against Mason’s brow. “Poor thing.”
“I took one of your worn shirts and put it in the corner behind the dresser. Guess where she is now.”
He can feel Theo smiling. “You’re a genius. I love your brain.” He kisses Mason right on the forehead.
“And I love you,” Mason whispers, taking Theo’s face in both hands so he can get his lips back on his own again, wanting some real kisses now, uninterrupted by talking. Sometimes, Theo and Mason work best like that.
No words needed, just love.
