Adam wanted a puggle. Kris wanted a kitten. So, how do two snarky grown men come to a compromise? They buy both--except Kris's kitten isn't so much a kitten as it is a near-adult cat, and Adam's puggle isn't so much a puggle as it is a street mutt. They had gone to an animal shelter earlier that day.
"This was so your idea," Kris remarks, ruefully, as he muscles the rambunctious puppy to the floor of the living room, allowing the cat to take a break from the chaos.
Adam scoffs and lets the puppy training book fall to the coffee table. He folds his hands in his lap and tilts his head at Kris. "I'm not the one who wanted the pussy," he says in an ironically calm tone.
"Hey!" Kris shouts in protest, which sends Bowie (the cat) skittering from beneath the couch and into the next room. Alli (the puppy) lunges in Kris's arms. Kris has to tighten his grip to keep a good hold on her. Her fine fur is slippery.
"At least this pussy cleans itself,” Kris says over Alli’s happy barking.
Adam wrinkles his nose in disgust and laughs. He pushes himself up off the couch and muses, “It’s been six hours and how many ‘pussy’ jokes have we made?”
“Like, a bajillion,” Kris says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. His face screws up in annoyance as the puppy laps at his face with her tiny tongue.
“You know what’s gross?,” Kris asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Puppy breath.”
Adam snorts. Kris is already handing over the pound puppy before Adam can sit down on the floor. Adam takes his sweet time taking a seat and Kris vents his frustration by cooing at the puppy in the most ridiculous and demeaning voice possible.
“Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl? Alli’s a good girl!”
Adam raises his brow. “Do you need a moment?”
Kris blanches and hands over the puppy like she’s a hot potato. “I read something like that once,” he mutters before shuddering. “A few months ago.”
“I told you not to read that crap, did I not? You don’t have to read everything my brother sends you.”
“Yeah, but…” Kris’s voice trails off and he sighs. His body droops to lean against Adam’s side. “Morbid curiosity,” he finishes.
Adam cradles the puppy, like a baby, in a pink blanket that he bought to protect his clothes from her hair and dander. The blanket turns out to be a futile gesture. Alli’s squirming and kicking to get free make it relatively useless.
“You’re such a masochist, Kris,” Adam chides before releasing the puppy, which promptly scrambles, falls, and gallops off toward the room with the cat.
“Am not,” Kris replies and slams a smooch against Adam’s cheek.
Adam cringes and turns to hold Kris at arm’s length. “You smell like puppy. You probably taste like puppy.”
Kris shrugs Adam’s grip. “Should I bark or something? Hump your leg?”
Adam chuckles and leans to pull a kiss from Kris’s lips. He recoils with a grunt and another disgusted wrinkle of his nose.
“Mmm, puppy,” Kris murmurs as he giggles.
Letting go of Kris, Adam smiles slowly. “Down, boy.”
Kris obliges the order. He hands immediately find Adam’s belt line and zipper. “Careful,” he deadpans with a lopsided smirk. “I might bite.”