Means of Escape
This story wasn't supposed to be quite so puppy-centric…
Kendall POV
At first, I thought James getting a dog was a good thing. But that was when he said he wanted a dog. You know, potty trained, not too nippy, good at sleeping… A dog. But then he decided that he wanted to train it. After coming to the conclusion that that particular thing would be hard to do with a full-grown dog, he decided to get a puppy. Still not too bad for me. I thought that puppies sleep, that they play. Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to think that time and effort wasn't required. But, you know, I thought that I'd still get to see him and talk to him.
I was wrong though.
James must have picked the neediest one there. He cries all night and has to go outside all the time. So far, all this has meant for me is a worn-out and busy James who barely has enough time to eat, let alone spend time with me. Or do his hair… I guess that's a plus. While James does the whole pretty boy thing very well, he does the natural look even better.
And when I went to see if the puppy was sleeping so that we could hang out, I hadn't expected this particular benefit.
James, clad only in boxers and a tight t-shirt, was making a very strong effort to get out of bed without waking the dog. He had one foot about an inch away from the floor and the other leg bent at a strange angle to prevent him from falling off the bed altogether. He had a white-knuckled grip on his headboard and his shirt was riding up his stomach. And, while I had seen it before, that didn't make it any less of an appealing sight.
When he finally managed to escape from the clutches of his bed, I was there. Smirking and ready to comment on his (lack of) clothes and odd behavior. And he knew that. As he stood there in his rumpled clothes in front of me, I had the urge to forego the teasing and instead get in some much-needed us time.
After he went to the bathroom, we stood outside of his room with the door shut. Him leaning against the wall, and me him. We hadn't kissed, yet, and we talked with soft voices. I got him up to date with the life outside of his room and he explained in excited whispers how much progress his dog was making. When there were no more words left to speak, I leaned to kiss him.
All too soon, though, there was a soft rustle of blankets in the room and we froze. After a second of no noise, I figured it was all right. Wrong again. Just as our lips were about to touch, a series of barks and whimpers erupted from behind his door. I sighed and James gave me a smile and a fleeting brush of lips before he hurried to get the puppy and take it outside before it used his bed as a toilet.
As James walked passed me, the puppy turned slightly and licked him right on the mouth.
It turned out to be a two-shot after all…