Puppy Love

Chapter One

Chapter One

//Zayn//   [will be unless stated otherwise]

 

I push the door of the nightclub open and walk out, head slightly abuzz from the couple of beers I’ve had.  What can I ay, girls and blokes alike can’t resist my ‘perfect’ hair and exotic accent (exotic even though I’m a born and raised Yorkshire lad). They would keep finding excuses to admire the splatters of tattoos over my exposed skin and whisper things into my ear. They would practically beg me to have one dance, especially during the songs whose lyrics drip with sex and hedonism.

But I’m sure I’ve had enough for the night and since my flat is only a ten-minute walk away, I think I’ll walk home. 

As I’m passing by a deserted and barely lit alleyway, a small whimpering sound catches my attention.  Driven by some deeply hidden paternal instinct that I’ve never known that I had, I turns into the alley and look for the source of that sound. At first, I can’t detect anything but the darkness and vague shapes of the Dumpster and bags of rubbish.  However, the whimper sounds guide me closer and closer.

“’Ello? Anyone here?” I call out.

Another whimper.  This time, it sounds suspiciously like a whine that’s hardly sounds human.

Squinting, I peer into the darkness.  Then I smack my forehead. I fish my mobile out of my pocket and click a random button the LED light come on.

Golden light reflects back to me in the form of two round spheres. This ‘person’ is only a couple feet away from me, crouching on the balls of his feet. His disheveled hair is in wild waves, golden eyes full of fear and savageness.  His thin arms are wrapped tight around his knees, half his face concealed by the naked skin. Yeah, the boy is only wearing a pair of loose, ratty sweatpants.

And on top of his curls are two, furry floppy ears. They look real and when they flatten further towards the brunet’s skull, Zayn knows that they are real. Only then does he see that there is a bushy, honey brown tail swishing stiffly behind the frightened boy.

I feel my jaw hit the ground.

This boy . . .  is a fucking hybrid!!!

“Hey, boy. My name’s Zayn.” I coo quietly. I squat down (not looming over the other boy) and hold out a hand and stare at the pavement.  The air between us is filled with soft sniffing sounds as the brunet smells me up.

 After a few grueling minutes, the hybrid boy decides that I’m not a threat and bumps his nose into the outstretched hand, nuzzling the soft skin.  Before I know it, I’m pushed down to the cold hard ground with a surprising lightweight boy perched on top of him.  I can feel the hybrid’s tail wagging in the air because his body is all but vibrating with the motion. Slowly, I lift up my hand to place it in the matted curls. The puppy boy leans into the touch, making a rumbling noise; and closing his gold-tinted eyes in content.  The shift causing my fingers to brush the floppy ear. The hybrid keens, urging me to scratch his ear already. Smiling, I oblige, scratching the soft honey brown ear.  His ears and tail look like a Labrador’s so I wonder if this mystery boy is part-Lab.