Starting With You

10. You brought a rabid dog into my house.

Teddy

THE DRIVE TO THE ANDERSON FARM FEELS much more upbeat than the drive to my dad's house only a few moments ago. The puppy, having lost all sense of fear of his new humans, bounces around on the front seat, climbing from my lap to Jensen's and then back again. I try to keep him away from Jensen because I notice him tense up the second the dog goes near him, but the furry, little guy seems to be a bit obsessed with my surly friend.

Once we pull up to Jensen's apartment building, I usher the dog outside and walk around with him until he does his business against a tree. Then I pick him up and carry him up the stairs to Jensen's apartment, my friend trailing me. At the stoop right outside his door, he reaches around me to unlock it. He turns the knob and nudges the door open. With a hand on the small of my back, he pushes me into the house.

The light above the kitchen sink is on, otherwise the apartment is dark. I stop right inside the door and wait for Jensen to turn on some lights. Once I set the dog down, he goes tearing through the open space, excited to explore. Jensen sets his panicked eyes on me and a laugh bursts out of me.

"Relax, he can't hurt much. And a little dirt won't be the end of the world." I pat his chest as I walk past him into the living room, where the dog is busy doing laps around the coffee table. "Can I get some towels to give him a bath?"

I turn to look at Jensen, who is still standing in the middle of the room, immobile. I walk back to him, snap my finger in his face to get his attention, and repeat my request. "Jensen. Towels. Please."

"Teddy." He wears an unamused, slightly panicked expression on his face. "You brought a rabid dog into my house."

Laughing, I walk through the apartment. Since the only bathroom is the one attached to Jensen's bedroom, I have to walk through it in my search for towels. I slow my steps when I take in his personal space. I don't think I've ever been in his room before, not since the renovations anyway. It's different than I imagined it and yet exactly the same somehow.

The big bed takes up most of the room, leaving only a small walking space between the sides of the bed. The hunter green blanket is a rumpled mess on his bed, like he was tangled up in it all night, but didn't bother straightening it out when he woke this morning. Remembering our run from earlier, I recall that he was hungover, the evidence of his rough night's sleep staring me in the face.

As I contemplate the state of his bed, Jensen walks in beside me. He looks at the bed and then to me, a slight rosy tint dusting his cheeks. It isn't often that I see Jensen blush and I'm struck by how cute it is. He rubs a hand down the back of his neck, ducking his head.

"Right through here." A light touch on my elbow nudges me forward.

In the bathroom, he pulls a few towels out of a cupboard, and hands the stack to me. I busy myself with bath prep. When the water is running in the bathtub and the towels are laid out, I go in search of the puppy. He's in the kitchen sniffing at the refrigerator.

"You hungry, little guy?" I bend to pick him up, rustling fingers through his curly fur. "I'll get you a snack after you're clean. Deal?"

When we enter the bathroom, Jensen is leaning over the tub to turn off the water. He removed his hoodie while I was gone and is now in an old basketball t-shirt, worn jeans and bare feet.

"Ready?" I ask, announcing our presence. He just nods and moves out of my way. "Will you grab some dish soap?"

Once Jensen is gone, I blow out a breath. Sometimes his presence is overwhelming. Plus, the vulnerable moment between us from earlier is still fresh in my mind. He's always been generous with his hugs and affection, but that felt different. It was more than a simple hug. Every inch of our bodies was touching. His soothing caresses were both unnerving and comforting.