Fic: The Joys of Rainy Days and Dogs Named Satchmo
Satchmo begins to whine in the Burke’s family home. He really needs to be walked.
“Peter, it is your turn to walk him, I took him last time,” Peter’s wife Elizabeth claims.
Peter reluctantly puts his sneakers on and finds Satchmo's leash. Before Neal has a chance to get a smug look on his face and to feel a sense of victory that Elizabeth singled out her other lover and not him, Peter points two fingers in his direction and beckons him to come closer. Neal scoffs.
“Neal!” Elizabeth states and gives him a disapproving stare and it is imposing enough to get him off the couch in a hurry.
“A three piece suit, Italian shoes and dog walking in the park do not go together well,” Neal complains.
Without missing a beat Elizabeth throws a pair of Peter's sweats and an old t-shirt at Neal's head, and of course another cold stare. Satchmo is beyond impatient at this point so Neal has to dress quickly.
Neal does have some sense of modesty, because it's still too early in the day for such shenanigans, so he retreats to the first floor bathroom. Neal emerges from the bathroom with his suit hanging perfectly over his arm and lays it on the back of the couch. He tries to make one more protest, but Peter and Satchmo are already pulling him out of the door.
Once they are down the front steps and onto the sidewalk, Satchmo pulls both his daddies in the direction of his favorite park. When Peter is not paying attention to where the dog is dragging them, he can’t help but smile at how Neal looks in his sweats. The t-shirt is at least three sizes too big. The younger man doesn’t have nearly enough meat on his bones and the sweat pants had to be pulled extra tight and double knotted just to stay attached to his too slender hips. However, this otherwise beautiful picture is marred by the uneasy look on the younger man's face. Peter pulls Satchmo back a few steps so he is walking in line with Neal.
"I hope you are not worried about someone seeing you Neal," says Peter. "There is no look that you cannot pull off, and you make my ratty old clothes actually look good. Anyone can look good in a tailored suit, but I can't help but think sometimes they hide some of your natural beauty."
Neal begins to smile as he feels his ego stroked. Peter's knows all of his buttons. Neal puts an arm around his lover, leans on his shoulder and whispers in his ear, "Thanks babe." Neal would feel a sense of panic if anyone without the last name of Burke knew how comfortable he was becoming with sweatpants and non-gourmet food. But not football; he still had some taste.
"It is not all bad,” Neal says after a few moments. “I'm not entirely opposed to being comfortable." Neal lets go of Peter's shoulder and gives him a smirk.
Satchmo had finally found his favorite tree. Who knows what makes one tree different than then another, but whatever makes the pup happy is fine with them. With their canine baby content, they began to make their way back home. Before they get to the end of the park the sky opens and the grass, the dirt, and the people and pets that are there are drenched immediately. There are not that many other people around because most of them had the good sense to notice the ominous looking sky before they ventured outdoors.
The rain was so loud that Peter didn't notice his human companion disappear. Using his cat-like reflexes, the ones that Peter would rather not think about and where they came from, Neal dashed over to a covered bench that was along the path.
Satchmo spotted Neal before Peter did and led him to his partner's hiding place.
"Neal, I know you think you are some type of mastermind, but you can't obviously have an escape route out of this one," Peter shouted, hopefully louder than the rain.
"I will wait, Peter. I may be wearing sloppy clothes, but that doesn't mean I have to look sloppy."
"Neal, how many times do I have to tell you that you are beautiful? I know you have this image of yourself in your mind, but it is just me and Satch. We won't let the secret out that you make messy really, really sexy."
"Peter, tell me that you did not just say that Satchmo thinks I am sexy."
As if his doggy ears were burning, Satchmo pulled his one owner out of the rain and right next to his slightly drier owner. Satchmo pressed his soaking wet body against Neal's legs. Distracted by the new sensation of his pants becoming heaver with each growing second, he didn’t realize he was being pulled into a full body hug by the bigger man behind him.
Peter put his chin on Neal's shoulder. "Sorry sweetie, it had to be done. It would be a waste to not enjoy a nice warm rainstorm."
"You're right, it does feel nice. But the strong arms that are holding me right now might have something to do with it. The rain isn't letting up. Let's just get this over with,” Neal says defeatedly. "The only reason I am not fuming right now is because it is your clothes I'm ruining, not mine."
"Why am I not surprised Neal? It's always the clothes with you,” Peter says with a knowing sigh.
Before they have a chance to have a semi-private smooch in the rain, Satchmo gives a quick pull on his leash to make sure they haven't forgotten about him. Both of his fathers were so caught up in each other's heads that they were completely taken off guard. Without warning, the two humans lost their balance and fell on the dirt path right outside the protection of the covered bench.
Peter looked down at his lover. His usually perfectly coiffed hair was sticking to the sides of his face. "If only I had a camera," Peter laughed.
Realizing it was a losing battle, Neal replaced the scowl he was wearing with a slightly uneasy smile. Peter noticed the mood lighten as the two of them sat in the mud with Satchmo watching from the sidelines. Peter scooped some mud in his hands and smeared it on Neal's cheek. Peter expected the scowl to return. He was pleasantly surprised when it didn't. "Maybe Neal has finally learned to be vulnerable. At least a little. At least for me," Peter thought to himself.
Neal stood up and gave Peter a muddy hand to help him up, but Peter got up on his own. Satchmo rejoined him at his side. Before they started to make their way back home Neal took his mud coated hands and put one on each side of Peter's face making a delightfully squishy sound as the mud moved from his hands to Peter’s cheeks. He then pulled his face to his and gave his lover a sloppy kiss to match what was definitely a sloppy day.
A tug from Satchmo pulled them out of their reverie and they began to walk home.
“Peter, it is your turn to walk him, I took him last time,” Peter’s wife Elizabeth claims.
Peter reluctantly puts his sneakers on and finds Satchmo's leash. Before Neal has a chance to get a smug look on his face and to feel a sense of victory that Elizabeth singled out her other lover and not him, Peter points two fingers in his direction and beckons him to come closer. Neal scoffs.
“Neal!” Elizabeth states and gives him a disapproving stare and it is imposing enough to get him off the couch in a hurry.
“A three piece suit, Italian shoes and dog walking in the park do not go together well,” Neal complains.
Without missing a beat Elizabeth throws a pair of Peter's sweats and an old t-shirt at Neal's head, and of course another cold stare. Satchmo is beyond impatient at this point so Neal has to dress quickly.
Neal does have some sense of modesty, because it's still too early in the day for such shenanigans, so he retreats to the first floor bathroom. Neal emerges from the bathroom with his suit hanging perfectly over his arm and lays it on the back of the couch. He tries to make one more protest, but Peter and Satchmo are already pulling him out of the door.
Once they are down the front steps and onto the sidewalk, Satchmo pulls both his daddies in the direction of his favorite park. When Peter is not paying attention to where the dog is dragging them, he can’t help but smile at how Neal looks in his sweats. The t-shirt is at least three sizes too big. The younger man doesn’t have nearly enough meat on his bones and the sweat pants had to be pulled extra tight and double knotted just to stay attached to his too slender hips. However, this otherwise beautiful picture is marred by the uneasy look on the younger man's face. Peter pulls Satchmo back a few steps so he is walking in line with Neal.
"I hope you are not worried about someone seeing you Neal," says Peter. "There is no look that you cannot pull off, and you make my ratty old clothes actually look good. Anyone can look good in a tailored suit, but I can't help but think sometimes they hide some of your natural beauty."
Neal begins to smile as he feels his ego stroked. Peter's knows all of his buttons. Neal puts an arm around his lover, leans on his shoulder and whispers in his ear, "Thanks babe." Neal would feel a sense of panic if anyone without the last name of Burke knew how comfortable he was becoming with sweatpants and non-gourmet food. But not football; he still had some taste.
"It is not all bad,” Neal says after a few moments. “I'm not entirely opposed to being comfortable." Neal lets go of Peter's shoulder and gives him a smirk.
Satchmo had finally found his favorite tree. Who knows what makes one tree different than then another, but whatever makes the pup happy is fine with them. With their canine baby content, they began to make their way back home. Before they get to the end of the park the sky opens and the grass, the dirt, and the people and pets that are there are drenched immediately. There are not that many other people around because most of them had the good sense to notice the ominous looking sky before they ventured outdoors.
The rain was so loud that Peter didn't notice his human companion disappear. Using his cat-like reflexes, the ones that Peter would rather not think about and where they came from, Neal dashed over to a covered bench that was along the path.
Satchmo spotted Neal before Peter did and led him to his partner's hiding place.
"Neal, I know you think you are some type of mastermind, but you can't obviously have an escape route out of this one," Peter shouted, hopefully louder than the rain.
"I will wait, Peter. I may be wearing sloppy clothes, but that doesn't mean I have to look sloppy."
"Neal, how many times do I have to tell you that you are beautiful? I know you have this image of yourself in your mind, but it is just me and Satch. We won't let the secret out that you make messy really, really sexy."
"Peter, tell me that you did not just say that Satchmo thinks I am sexy."
As if his doggy ears were burning, Satchmo pulled his one owner out of the rain and right next to his slightly drier owner. Satchmo pressed his soaking wet body against Neal's legs. Distracted by the new sensation of his pants becoming heaver with each growing second, he didn’t realize he was being pulled into a full body hug by the bigger man behind him.
Peter put his chin on Neal's shoulder. "Sorry sweetie, it had to be done. It would be a waste to not enjoy a nice warm rainstorm."
"You're right, it does feel nice. But the strong arms that are holding me right now might have something to do with it. The rain isn't letting up. Let's just get this over with,” Neal says defeatedly. "The only reason I am not fuming right now is because it is your clothes I'm ruining, not mine."
"Why am I not surprised Neal? It's always the clothes with you,” Peter says with a knowing sigh.
Before they have a chance to have a semi-private smooch in the rain, Satchmo gives a quick pull on his leash to make sure they haven't forgotten about him. Both of his fathers were so caught up in each other's heads that they were completely taken off guard. Without warning, the two humans lost their balance and fell on the dirt path right outside the protection of the covered bench.
Peter looked down at his lover. His usually perfectly coiffed hair was sticking to the sides of his face. "If only I had a camera," Peter laughed.
Realizing it was a losing battle, Neal replaced the scowl he was wearing with a slightly uneasy smile. Peter noticed the mood lighten as the two of them sat in the mud with Satchmo watching from the sidelines. Peter scooped some mud in his hands and smeared it on Neal's cheek. Peter expected the scowl to return. He was pleasantly surprised when it didn't. "Maybe Neal has finally learned to be vulnerable. At least a little. At least for me," Peter thought to himself.
Neal stood up and gave Peter a muddy hand to help him up, but Peter got up on his own. Satchmo rejoined him at his side. Before they started to make their way back home Neal took his mud coated hands and put one on each side of Peter's face making a delightfully squishy sound as the mud moved from his hands to Peter’s cheeks. He then pulled his face to his and gave his lover a sloppy kiss to match what was definitely a sloppy day.
A tug from Satchmo pulled them out of their reverie and they began to walk home.