(AN: Done for the Disney Animated Kinkmeme)
Dug couldn't say he'd been on many spying missions over the years he's lived in the service of Master. He's taken part in hunting down thieves and trying to stalk the Bird, but those instances are far and few between. Despite this he fancies himself a decent sneaker, so when his paw comes down and fractures a stray twig on the forest ground it's not lack of skill he blames it on but a lack of practice. Alpha is up in seconds, his lips peeled back in a growl, his muscles tensed beneath his flank, eyes darting across the clearing in which their reconnaissance team is spending the night.
Dug panics, scampering back to his place, feigning sleep, begging his heartbeat to slow. Alpha watches his desperate attempt to hide his activities with irritation but Dug, eyes closed tightly, thinks he has the Doberman fooled. Slowly Alpha relaxes, returns to the ground, and drifts back into sleep. Dug waits a minute or two before getting back up. He's not sure exactly why, but the last few nights he's felt… cold. It's not the weather, it's not the shade of the trees or the yawning moon, it's an entirely different cold. A down to the bone type. It appeared the night Alpha shared his kill with Dug when the latter couldn't catch anything for himself, and only grew stronger every time their flanks brushed together, every time they spotted a hint of multicolored feathers and ran after it until their muscles burned, every time Alpha called him stupid without a hint of actual malice. And the only cure he's found for the cold, the persistent nighttime chill, is sneaking up to sleep next to Alpha, to feel his short taught fur against his own long wispy hairs, warmed by the heat of their shared breath, their shared heartbeat, their shared skin. Dug debates trying again. Clearly his sneaking skills are par to none as Alpha hasn't awoken any of the previous nights. But how many times would he have the fortune to wake first and return to his sleeping spot before Alpha or any of the others rise? And how many more nights can Dug resist the overpowering desire to rub his head against the flank of his superior, to lick his cheek, to push their bodies together? Dug may not be smart, but he isn't stupid. He can't keep a secret like this forever.
But maybe just one more night. He moves quietly, calling on every previous night, every time he stalked a thief, every time he searched for the Bird. After what seemed like eternity he made it over to where Alpha slept, at the center of the group, his sharp ears erect. Deciding to be cautious he settled down next to but not touching Alpha. Nights before he had pressed his side against Alpha's, or his back to the Doberman's belly, but that might be too risky. Being close without touching didn't stop the cold, but it did make it a bit more bearable. He let himself relax, nearly drifting back into sleep, when Alpha's eyes opened, just a slit, and he shot a sharp glance at Dug.
"Is it you are thinking that you are the only one that gets cold?" he growled quietly. "Get over here." Dug's head shot up and he blinked at Alpha in confusion before breaking into a grin.
"Oh boy!" He happily got to his paws, playfully tackling Alpha, who rolled over to his belly and tried to look displeased.
"Do not do this. The others will wake." Dug whimpered slightly, ears down. "…fine. But do not sneak up on me tomorrow night like you think I do not know. Your 'sneaking' makes much noises. I think we are attacked." Dug's smile returned, and he excitedly licked the Doberman's face, intertwining their limbs together and turning so that they rested on their sides. Alpha nuzzled Dug gently, glad that the other dog couldn't see his wagging tail.