There were, thought Lovino, some bonuses to living with a Wolfblood. For the three days around the full moon, for example, he got a free guard dog that could feed itself. His garden was the only one on the street that cats wouldn't scream near and dogs hurried past rather than squatting in his bushes.

And that was all forgetting the entertainment value.

Sure, his fingernails had accidentally torn some cushions and the upholstery on the sofa when he was angry enough for them to grow into claws. And yes, he did have a tendency to knock things off tables with his tail when he got excited. But Lovino delighted in finding ways of getting his playful "revenge" on the idiot.

…..

They were out walking together, bundled up in coats against the cold. With a woolly hat pulled down over his ears and a long scarf on, Antonio looked like a normal human.

Lovino's hand slipped down into one of his pockets, carefully holding his face still and at neutral as he felt the item inside. Firm, not quite small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. a soft, almost fluffy coating. He wrapped the hand not being held in Antonio's around it and slowly brought it out, making sure the other couldn't see.

"Antonio..."

The always-smiling idiot looked around. "Yes?"

"Fetch!" With that, he pulled his hand back and threw the ball with all his strength, letting go of Antonio's hand at the same time. The Spaniard shot off, Turning in mid-leap, and hunted the ball down on all fours, running back with it in his mouth and only realising what Lovino had done when he sat down in front of him.

What looked like a cross between an Afghan hound and a wolf dropped the ball, scowling as best it could while Lovino laughed.

The joke was on the Italian, though. After he'd collected up Antonio's clothes, he had to throw the ball again and again and again. No matter how much the Italian protested that "It's gross and covered in drool and dirt and bits of leaf and what the hell, Antonio?!", the Wolfblood would not let him get away with leaving it on the ground.

And so he threw it. Again and again and again.

And just as they reached their home, as a final petty act, Lovino wiped his drool and dirt covered hand off on Antonio's fur.

….

Antonio was sulking.

He was curled up in a corner, looking over to Lovino every so often so that he would know that he was sulking.

Lovino, standing up as tall as he could (even in this form, Antonio was taller than him on his hind legs what the hell, that's not fair!) with his arms crossed, was having none of it.

"You know perfectly well that this is your fault, Antonio. Stop sulking and I know you can understand me, you've said so yourself. You can have your cuddles after you've got clean. Look at you! You brought half the damn park home!"

The sulking - Lovino wasn't even sure what to call this body - looked at him again.

"I don't care! You're having a bath and that's final! And quit growling at me, it's not going to work."

Antonio unfurled and sat up, shoulders raised and head lowered. The very picture of misery.

"Do I have to drag you by the scruff of your neck? You were perfectly happy jumping into those puddles in the park, getting all that all over yourself!"

Begrudgingly, Antonio started to walk as slowly as he could to the bathroom, Lovino locking the door the instant they were both through because he has learnt from what happened the first time.

His shirt, covered in splatters of mud from the person now slinking over to the bath as if he were going to his death, was taken off and he glared at the other until he got in. A quick twist to the temperature dial, and the shower was turned on.

He slowly, patiently worked out all the knots in the long hair, pulling out leaves and twigs that got caught in it while a steady flow of muddy water swirled down the drain.

"Close your eyes for me, I'm about to shampoo you. No, stop grumbling. It has to be done."

"I don't care that you think the conditioner is icky, have you seen yourself with an unconditioned coat?"

"See, was it really that bad, you big baby? Now don't you dare move while I get the towel."

Antonio stood, dripping and looking miserable, but clean, in the tub and gave off a slightly odd smell of wet dog and the local Co-Op's own brand of conditioner.

"Stop whining at me," Lovino's voice had softened. "You wanted cuddles, didn't you?" He gently rubbed the towel down from his back to his belly, squeezing the water out of his coat. "And you love having your fur blow-dried, don't think I don't see you grinning when I do it."

Once he had been deemed dry enough, Lovino unlocked the door and let them both out, going down to the living room where he could sit and watch his currently four-legged boyfriend's face as he was blowdried. The shiny chocolate hair floating on the heat, getting glossier as he brushed it, was one of his favourite sights.

It always took a long time to get him fully dry, but Antonio always looked so gorgeous when he'd finished. It was almost unfair how he could be so good-looking in two species when some people had trouble looking good in just one. (And it was only fairly recently, with Antonio's help, that he'd stopped putting himself in that category)

Lovino opened up his arms, sitting against the wall. "Come here, you daft mutt."

Antonio bounded into them, wagging his tail furiously, and nuzzled at his face. (He no longer tried licking him. Human kisses yes, dog kisses very much no, according to Lovino) The Italian's arms wrapped around him, one sliding down down his back. And it started scratching.

Wolfish eyes squinted closed happily, a tail wagged and a back leg thumped. And even after so many full moons, this still made his Lovino smile.

…..

It was a text from Feliciano that given him this idea. A text containing a YouTube link. It led to a video that his younger brother had apparently not been able to stop watching for over an hour. Yes, Lovino had to agree that it was cute and funny to watch while he was vacuuming up the hair his boyfriend had shed for the past three days he had been running around on all fours.

It was worse than living with an Old English Sheepdog.

And he couldn't let Antonio vacuum because he never did it right. There were always little bits left in innocuous corners. So he was downstairs, guilt-baking cakes as he always did after the full moon.

He turned it off and unplugged it, eyes resting on the hair-covered sheets. Why could he never resist Antonio's puppy eyes begging him to share the bed, despite having his own bed that they had picked out at a pet shop together specifically so that this exact thing would not happen? And he never stayed down at the foot of the bed where he first crawled up onto, oh no. Lovino woke three days a month with a mouthful of Antonio's long fur.

He bent to pick up the vacuum cleaner and brought it downstairs, where his daft boyfriend was pulling out a tray of cupcakes.

"I'm done up there. You can go do the sheets now," he paused as he was kissed. "I'm going out to get something. I'll be back soon."

The tray was set on a rack to cool and Antonio went upstairs. By the time he'd finished wrestling with the sheets, always finding it easier to get them off than on, Lovino had returned and was slouched in the kitchen next to the now-cooled cakes and eating something out of a jar with a spoon.

"Want some?" he offered a spoonful to his boyfriend.

Antonio perked up instantly; Lovino almost never wanted to share snacks! He leant in and licked the spoon clean, only realising how sticky this was when he started flicking his tongue in and out of his mouth, lower jaw working hard. It was good, but. So. Annoying! His top lip lifted as he scraped some off his front teeth with his tongue, tail starting to wag as he registered Lovino's giggles. After a good five minutes of this licking and head bobbing and jaw flopping, he finally stopped except for a couple of licks to his lips to get the last few bits.

"What was that?"

"Peanut butter!" His Italian got out another, larger spoonful and offered it to him. Which he took without hesitation.

They finished the jar off together.