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Wagging Tails over Winter Break

by Windrammer

Wagging Tails over Winter Break

“Five-hundred and thirty dollars for a flight to Oregon? Fuck that noise!” Greg slammed his laptop shut and let out an exasperated sigh. “Told ya man, you should have booked a few weeks ago, waiting until the last minute just lets them slap on tons of extra fees and stuff.” The freshman fought the urge to flip off his roommate, settling for “Thank you captain hindsight. What’re your plans for Christmas break anyways? Your just gonna bond with the rest of your family uptown?” Jeff shook his head; “Nah, they’re heading off to Florida to visit the extended family, meaning I’ve got the place to myself for the whole time. For what it’s worth man, you’re more than welcome to stay with if you like.” Greg adopted a pensive look and stroked the chin stubble that passed for a beard. “Yeah, cough up five hundred dollars to fly back to buttfuck Oregon, or spend time in Philadelphia with a friend for free, tough call. If it’s no trouble, I am 100% there man.” “Sweet! Can’t wait!
As Greg arrived at Jeff’s house late in the evening with a backpack and a bag under each arm, he was surprised at how small it was; all of the other houses on the block were at least twice it’s size, but Jeff’s place had been kept small to allow for a huge lawn, blocked off from view of the street and neighbors by towering 7-foot high hedges. The whole place looked like it had been designed by gnomes; especially the house, with its green shingles and vine-covered walls. His parents must be hippies or something, though Greg as Jeff emerged to help him carry his stuff. “Bad news dude,” Jeff said as he slung the duffel bag over his shoulder “it turns out that when I left, my parents turned my old bedroom into a rec room, so there’s only one bed. It’s fine though, I’ll just sleep on the couch.” “Nah man, it’s your house, I’ll slee-“ “You’re the guest, you get the bed” Jeff interjected flatly “All right, if you insist.”
The inside of the house was just as ‘whimsical’ as the outside, lots of macramé and rugs, with some strange undefinable odor—probably some form of incense—seemingly soaked into every room. The bedroom he was staying in was especially strange, with the odor being stronger and a green and brown collar big enough to fit a mastiff hanging from a fixture on the door. He had asked Jeff about it when he saw it, but his friend was strangely quiet on the subject, only saying that it belonged to a pet he used to have. “I know this might sound weird, but could you not remove it or anything? I really don’t want anything to be out of place when my parents get back.” He had asked, not making eye contact. “…sure man, wouldn’t want to get you in trouble or anything.” “Awesome. I’m gonna crash on the couch. In case you wake up before I do, there’s cereal and stuff in the kitchen, and the bathroom is just down the hall from here. Is there anything I’m forgetting?” “Not that I can think of, goodnight! And thanks again for letting me stay.” His friend cracked a shit eating grin “Hey, I’m happy to have you man.”
As Greg was getting undressed and settled, some weird music started emanating from the downstairs living room. It was some slow prog metal stuff, with what sounded like strange audio glitches. He briefly entertained the notion of going downstairs to…what exactly? Ask his host—who had given him the only bed—to turn down his music in his own house? Besides, once you got used to it, it was barely noticeable. In fact, once he got into bed, he realized how tired he was and how relaxing the music was. No wonder his roommate used it—though as his eyes half focused on the collar on the doorway and he drifted off it never occured to him that Jeff had never used this music when they shared a room in college.
In his dream, Greg felt free and full of energy, as if something had supercharged his very being. He was running naked through a field—shame nothing more than a distant memory as he felt the wind rushing through his face and felt the soft grass beneath his toes. He was chasing something—though it suddenly occurred to him that he couldn’t remember what is was. Was he close to it? Where was it? He tried looking around to see if anything stood out from the emerald grass, but he had a hard time keeping his thoughts in order; every movement in his peripheral vision was a distraction that broke his focus. Then, as he looked up to see if it was farther out, he saw him standing there. He couldn’t make out who it was at this distance, but something at his core knew him; he was the most important person in the world, his best friend, his caretaker, the man who was so good to him. All thoughts of the previous chase banished from his mind, Greg charged over at full steam to his master and all but tackled him to the ground in an effort to embrace him. It felt like it had been forever since he had last seen him; he hugged him, he snuggled up next to him, breathing in his familiar scent as he felt his master’s hands scratching his neck—god that felt good—his whole body froze as his entire being focused on the sensation. And then he heard it, the most rewarding, happiest sound in the world, the highest praise he could ever receive:
“Good Boy”
Greg awoke at 9AM to the smell of bacon and sausages. He briefly tried to remember his dream, he knew it had been strange, but somehow the details eluded him—only the emotions, the joy, the energy and gratitude stuck out in his mind. After a moment of failed attempts, he cast the line of thought aside and stepped into the kitchen in search of breakfast. Jeff was hovering over the oven in a bathrobe, tounge sticking out as he flipped over a piece of sizzling pork. “Good timing Greg! It’s just about ready, how was your sleep last night?” “It was great man, I forgot how much better a real bed is than the stuff they have in dorms” “I know, right? Might as well sleep on th-CRAP!” he said as one of the sausages rolled off the serving plate he was transferring the food onto and fell on the floor. Instinctively, Greg squatted down and—without hesitating popped the sausage into his mouth, sitting as he chewed. It was only after he swallowed that he realized Jeff was staring, and how bizarre his behavior was. “uh…five second rule?” he stammered, face redder than the bacon on the breakfast table. His friend just let out a short chuckle “Hey, waste not want not, right? How is it?” “Oh, it’s the best, I didn’t know could cook. “I used to work in the kitchen for a summer camp, it’s nothing fancy, but as long as you like it.” As two of them sat down and began the very short task of tearing their way through the meat, Greg asked “So, what do you feel like doing today? I obviously have no plans.” Jeff leaned back in his chair “Weeellll…since the weather is so good for December, I was thinking of taking a walk. There’s a public park about three blocks from here, and if you want to come, I could bring a Frisbee.” “Sure, I’ll come.” The upperclassman checked his phone “Sweet! If we go soon, we could catch the tail end of off-leash hours.” “We should hurry up then” said Greg, the event feeling more important that it probably should. “Sure, just give me a second to get dressed” said his friend as he put the dishes in the sink. “Oh god, ‘tail end of the off leash hours’, was that a pun?” the upperclassman mused as Greg climbed the stairs and headed back to the bedroom. As he got dressed, some small part of him noticed that the mysterious odor of the house seemed more pleasant now that he was acclimated—piney and cool. He was trying to put a finger on it as he was getting dressed, when he saw the collar on the door, and for jut a moment, wondered what it would feel like around his neck.
To be Continued


Comments

Re: Wagging Tails over Winter Break - Talondoggy

Love this woof woof can't wait to read more

Ohh - blanketcross

Can\'t wait to read this...great story file idea.

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