demonpuppy | (no subject)

(no subject)

Chip knows they shouldn't be doing this. Grant will be angry, furious probably, when he finds out about this. But...they want to see. He's already seen their dangerous side, suffered it's harm with so much more patience and understanding than they ever earned in their life. It's only fair they return the favor.

And besides...they're curious. What could turn such a gentle man into a dangerous beast, after all? They'd never heard any howling or other monstrous noises on other full moons.

It's easy enough to sneak into the storage room once the moon is well risen, and the trapdoor only takes a bit of work to figure out and haul open. Chip peers down into the room, frowning and clicking on the flashlight they'd brought with them.

"Gr--...Dad?"

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Ever since he got hold of this building and its cellar, Grant has never once heard the door open from the outside while he's in here. He's told Chip before that they shouldn't - it's not safe, he doesn't know what would happen, he doesn't want to end up hurting them.

Of course, at the moment, he only remembers all that vaguely, because lycanthropy is a hell of a drug.

When Chip opens the trapdoor, they may hear a soft clicking of claws on cement as Grant paces. But it's only for a moment; he stops in his tracks when the door opens, and bright, reflective eyes turn toward Chip.

They startle a little bit when those eyes glint back at them, and Chip fumbles with the flashlight before swinging it over to light Grant up.

"...woah."

He's huge. Not that he was a small man to begin with, but as a wolf--dog? they're not sure--there's so much more bulk and fur, he looks like a mountain!

"I, uh--h-hold on! Let me--um--"

Chip scrambles quickly to start climbing down, making sure to close the trap door behind them before climbing the rest of the way down the ladder. Then they turn around again, lifting up the flashlight to illuminate the room better--it's still dark, but not pitch black at least.

"I...um. It's. It's me, Chip. Your...I live with you. You remember, right?"

Grant blinks, shaking his head briefly as he gets used to the light. Then he steps closer, his massive head held low, staying on their eye level. He's not even standing up straight, instead stooped over on all fours - the ceiling is high enough that he probably could stand upright, sure, but he's too topheavy in this form for that to be comfortable.

Once he's close enough, he just kind of... puts his face right up in theirs and tilts his head, snuffling at their face for a few seconds and making a very quiet boof noise.

Chip swallows and tries their best not to shrink away--they've heard the stories that kids would tell at school about werewolves gone crazy, and Grant has made it clear plenty of times that he doesn't trust himself around Chip when he's like this. But the same stories get told about people like them, too, and he still let them into his home. Still trusted them around him when sharp things were sitting right on the counter, never looked sideways at them like they might turn around and stab him in the back.

They don't even realize they're holding their breath until Grant makes that soft, deep boof and they let out a sudden, giddy laugh. It's so ridiculous! And...cute. He really is just like an overly huge dog like this, isn't he? And...dogs are only mean if you're mean to them first. So...

Chip smiles, somewhat shakily, and lifts up one hand to bury in the fur around his neck. It doesn't feel quite right to pet their--their guardian, but they can't hug him all that easily, either. "I'm sorry, I-I know I shouldn't've. But I just...I wanted to see you."

It seems that, at least for the moment, that apology isn't going to be necessary - or fully understood, for that matter, but he can pick up on some of it. He gives a reassuring whuff and butts his head gently against Chip's chest, lifting one paw to rest it on their head.

It is OKAY child, it's time for snuggles now.

Chip squeaks, stumbling back half a step before Grant's paw pulls them back close again. They blink a few times, confused and not entirely sure why their eyes are so watery.

"I-I..."

They bite their lip, choking back a tight feeling in their chest before leaning forward and putting both arms around Grant's huge neck and burying their face in the soft fur.

One of Grant's ears flicks, picking up on their stutter, the sound of their voice. They sound upset, but why? He gives a soft, confused whine and nuzzles his face against them.

Chip sniffles and laughs weakly, rubbing one hand through Grant's fur and shaking their head. No, no, they're not upset! They feel almost dizzy, their heart feeling like it's about to burst from--from something, but it's good, it's so good.

After a moment they let go and step back, realizing that it might be a bit uncomfortable for Grant to have his head hugged like that. The flashlight points toward the ground, but there's enough reflected light for Chip to be able to see Grant's face in the darkness. Their free hand lifts up again, then they pause. Sure, he looks like a dog right now, but...he's not. He's a person.

But they really want to pet him.

"Um...'s it okay if I...rub your ears?"

Grant tilts his head, letting himself process their words - everything they say registers as oddly fragmented like this, but if he thinks it over he can get the general idea pretty well.

So, after a moment of consideration, he snorts and butts his head gently into their hand.

That tilt of Grant's head makes Chip giggle again before they can stop themself, but the butt of his head in their hand is all the answer they need--Chip immediately buries their fingers into the soft, thick fur behind Grant's ear and starts rubbing and scratching just like they do with any dog. An incredulous smile pulls at their face, lighting up their entire expression.

He gives a quiet, approving huff and whuffles gently against their face, his tail wagging furiously.

Then, decisively, he plops a paw on their back and rolls onto his side, pulling them down with him.

They laugh softly and gently bump their forehead against Grant's snout, shoving the flashlight into their pocket to get both hands buried into his fur. But then--

"Wh-aaaah!" Chip squawks and flails a bit when he grabs them, freezing up for a few moments when they land and blinking in confusion before looking up at Grant. What was that for?

It was because it's cuddling time now, Chip, that's what. Grant flops his other arm over their shoulder and pulls them against him - then drags his tongue over their cheek and hair. Helping!

Chip whines and squirms, turning their head away from the slobber. They laugh despite themself, and try to shove Grants huge head away.

"Dad! C'mon, stoppit!"

"Buhf."

Grant licks them again before letting his head drop onto the floor of the cellar, momentarily amplifying the thumping of his tail. He doesn't remove his arms, though. Sorry, Chip, you live here now.

Chip laughs again, and lies quietly in Grant's arms for a few moments. They aren't sure what they expected to happen when they crawled down here, but laying cuddled up next to a mountain of a dog was not something they had considered.

On sudden impulse, Chip reaches forward and starts stretching over Grant's chest with both hands. It's not any real revenge, but his fur is so soft they can't really resist.

Edited 2017-01-12 17:10 (UTC)

He gives a startled puff of air through his nose, then his tail thumps against the ground again. He pulls them closer to him, but leaves them with room to be able to move around, and nuzzles his muzzle into their hair.

Chip giggles and keeps scratching, bowing their head a little before looking up at Grant. It's strange how natural this feels, but they suppose nothing has really changed. Grant just looks a little different right now...and probably thinks a bit oddly, but it's still clearly Grant. Chip can hardly think of anyone else that would be so gentle with them.

They pretty much got it in one there; he's still very much himself, even if things seem a little different than usual from his point of view. Perhaps more accurately, they seem simpler.

Of course, there isn't too much room for his thoughts on Chip to get simpler, regardless of what they might expect. They're just... his. His child, his pup.

...He should lick their head again. He's going to do that.

"AGH! Daaaaaaad!" Chip whines and tries to turn away again, laughing and attempting to stop Grant's tongue with their hand. "That's gross, come on! I'm already clean!"

Well what did THAT accomplish, Chip, now you've just got dog spit on your hand - which Grant is also good with licking, as indicated by the ongoing tail-thumping.

He'll eventually calm down and cut that out. Eventually.

Chips groans and tries the shake the slobber off their hand, but that just leaves their face open again. This amusing charade goes on like this for a bit before Chip just gives up and squeezes their eyes shut, waiting for Grant to be done with this.

After a couple minutes, he seems to decide that they are clean (read: slobber-covered) enough. After a final lick, he lets his head thump onto the floor before nuzzling his nose into their shoulder.

They crack one eye open, then the other, and look down at Grant's massive head with a faint hint of confusion. Chip wipes their hand off on their shirt before rubbing behind his ear again, closing their eyes after a moment.

"Love you." It comes out in a faint mumble, barely articulated, but even then...they have a feeling he'll hear them.

He can, alright. Grant's ears twitch and he huffs against their shirt, nuzzling them again.

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