Summary: Every day he would see him; the man with the dogs. (WolfStar Muggle!AU)
The Dog Whisperer
Every day he would see him; the man with the dogs.
Remus would sit on a bench in the park near his home, drinking his morning coffee while reading the paper. At first it was routine, to get himself out of the house and see people. Not that he would talk to any of the people, but if felt nice to be around them for a little while.
And then he turned up one day.
Remus heard the dogs first, all eight of them, yelping with excitement. Then he saw the man with dark, curly hair to his shoulders, and laughing eyes being pulled by the dogs. Remus was fairly certain the man wasn't walking the dogs, they were walking him.
"Morning," he said, breathing heavily, as he pulled past Remus.
Remus had opened his mouth to respond, but the dogs had yanked him away too quickly.
The next day was the same thing. The man was dragged by the dogs, his leather boots clicking loudly on the pavement, with a breathless hello to Remus when he looked up. Once again, Remus had opened his mouth but the reply never came.
It didn't even take a week of seeing the man pass him by every day until Remus realised he now left his home in the mornings with the hope of seeing the man and his eight dogs. By the second week, he still hadn't mastered the ability to respond to his hello, but he did fondly think of him as The Dog Whisperer after Remus had witnessed a glorious moment when one of the dogs got loose.
The man immediately said, "Barry, if you run away, I swear to god I will cut you off from your treats for a week."
The dog known as Barry promptly sat down and waited for The Dog Whisperer to pick his lead up.
Another week, more hellos, and still Remus couldn't find his words.
The Dog Whisperer was so beautiful that he wasn't sure he'd ever muster the courage to say hello back any time soon.
By the second month, Remus had begun to manage a nod in return. That was the best he could do when his heart was racing, his palms started sweating and his throat went dry; that was all before he heard the familiar pitter patter of dog paws on pavement. His body wouldn't behave until the man was out of sight, not to be seen for another twenty-four hours.
And then something happened.
The Dog Whisperer made his dogs stop at Remus' bench. Remus would have dearly loved to swallow, but his throat would not co-operate.
"You can talk to me," he said to Remus. "I don't bite."
"I, er," Remus squeaked. He coughed against the dryness, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I like your dogs," he finally mumbled as one sniffed at his cardigan pocket where his chocolate bar was stashed.
"Oh, these aren't mine. I walk them for my clients."
"Oh," Remus said dumbly, staring at The Dog Whisperer's knees.
"You can also look at me too. I'm really not scary," he told Remus.
Remus lifted his head reluctantly, not really wanting The Dog Whisperer to see his pink cheeks. He had grey eyes. Beautiful grey eyes.
"Hi," The Dog Whisperer said with a bright smile.
"Hi," Remus replied.