by Rhys Ford
Kane’s younger brother—one of them—did that when I’d first gone out to the yard, and Miki tore into him like one of the snooty cats roosting in the living room like some regal chicken. My Miki does not like to be fooled, and he suffers none of them gladly. Ergo—good word that as well, sea lion origin—Miki will not let anyone fool me.
So he’d probably be on my side if he knew Kane’s mother tempted me with fried pig and then, after feeding me the slice, plopped me into a tub to hose my wanderings off of me.
To borrow a curse from the humans—bitch.
Still, I suffered it gladly. Well grumpily, but I said nothing, bit no one, and she’d just gotten enough lather on me for people to wonder if I was some damned poodle when the door opened quickly and yet another Donal-Monster-Son came in.
I was losing track of who was whom. They all looked alike and, for the most part, sounded the same, but they smelled differently. I gave Brigid a dirty look from under my veil of suds—that is if I could smell him through the damned soap she’d covered me in.
“Con, close the door. The dog’ll get out and there’ll be hell to pay for it then.” She practically sang a ditty as she lathered me up.
“Ma, why are ye bathing Miki’s dog? That’s a bit of liberty, don’t ye think?” Con—that was Con. I recognized him when he came closer and I could peer at him through the lather. I tried giving him a tried-and-true sad puppy mourning face, but either the soap was dimming its power or he was immune. I was going to blame the soap. “Christ, he about tore Ian a new arse for fucking with the dog’s mind yesterday. Now yer going to piss him off by washing the Dude?”
“It’s just Dude. Not the Dude,” Brigid corrected him. She was right, but she didn’t have the inflection down. Miki seemed to be the only one fluent enough in Miki-ese to put the right purr on it, but I suffered the slaughtering of my noise about as well as the bath—silently and plotting a peeing in a shoe or two when I could. “And I had to wash him. He’d gone through the flower beds and rolled in the fish guts yer da put out there for something or other. I can’t have him smelling like a plate of hákarl when one of them gets up. They’ll think we can’t be trusted to watch the dog, and then where will we be?”
“Not watching a dog?” Con sounded as confused as I felt, and I tried to roll my eyes in sympathy, but sadly, my guts rolled instead and I felt a slither of gas escape me.
Revenge is a sweet, sweet thing—or rather a rotten thing best served after stewing in my guts and when Brigid, Mother of Rolling Tongued Horde and Betraying Cajoler, was bent over my ass to scrub my back legs.
Needless to say, she fled. Fled like the bacon-tricker she was, choking on my rank fur and even ranker, cabbage-laden belly. I cast a longing look at the now open door and then back up to Con, who was standing over me with a bemused smirk on his face.
“Aye, I know you did that on purpose, you mad bastard,” he laughed, sounding more like his father than before as he bent over me. “And no, you’ll not be getting out of a scrubbing. Come on, let’s finish you up. And none of your tricks. I grew up with a pack of brothers. There’s no stench you can come up with that even comes close to the boys after a weekend of Mum gone and frozen bean burritos.”
Nine
MIKI WAS full. Mostly of food but also of other things. Splayed out on a very comfortable sofa in the Morgans’ family room, he stared out of a bank of tall windows onto the backyard where Dude chased bird shadows across rain-damp grass.
“Here, ye look like ye could use one of these.” Donal placed a brown bottle of crème soda into Miki’s hand, then sat down on a wide chair set close to the sofa Miki’d snuggled into. “I’m taking ye like crème soda.”
“Yeah, I do.” He sipped, then wrinkled his nose at the bubbles. “Wow, strong. Fuzzy.”
“Kind of like yer dog there.” The head of the Morgan family chuckled. “Hope ye don’t mind, m’bride gave him a bath this morning. Seems he found a bit of fertilizer and decided it was his kingdom.”
“He hates baths,” Miki replied softly, taking another sip. “I always have to chase him around the house, and then once I get him in the tub, he stands there like I’m about to shove him in a microwave or something.”
“Well, ye’ll be happy to know, he also is quite fond of bacon, so Brigid coaxed him in with that.” Donal laughed at Miki’s horrified expression. “Let me guess, ye’ve never bribed him like that?”
“Seems kind of… fucked, you know?” He frowned, unsure if he liked what he was hearing. Knowing Dude—and the dog’s fondness of foul odors, he’d probably been at a nuclear-level of stench, but still, it bothered him. “It’s like lying, right? I mean, Carl… fuck, Kane probably—”
“He told me about the man.” The words were gentle, much more soothing than any piece of pie the Morgans forced at him after he’d eaten his third dinner. “Ye don’t have to talk unless ye want to, but know if ye do, it only goes as far as ye and me, a’ight?”
“Yeah, okay.” Miki nodded, sighing as Dude nearly skidded into a rose bush. “It’s just…. Carl used to—in the beginning of all his shit—he’d buy me things or give me candy. So I’d like him. Then he’d do… shit to me. I don’t want to do that to Dude. He’s… it’s not right. You either give stuff because you want to or you don’t, you know? Things shouldn’t be… fucked with. I know it’s stupid because he’s a dog and everything, but… hell, apparently he’s my dog. And I don’t want him to be lied to.”
“Fair enough,” Donal murmured softly. “I can see yer point, and I agree. Yer relationship with him is based on a lot of trust. He’s come to ye and depends on ye for that. I understand.”
“Yeah, then you’re the only one.” Miki scoffed. “Most people think I’m insane or something.”
“No, not insane. Just—yer world’s very stripped down, Miki boy. Yer honest. People sometimes have a hard time with honesty. Ye don’t cover things up with pretty words if ye don’t like someone, but yer polite enough to be civil to someone if ye have to.”
“Shit, you must be talking about Brigid.” He grinned at Donal. “Sorry, I know she’s your wife, dude, but she’s… man, she’s like swallowing Sriracha to cool down your throat after you munched on a habañero.”
“It’s why I fell in love with her.” Donal put his feet up on a low coffee table, then grinned at Miki. “M’life was very… ordinary before I met Brigid Finnegan. Then I couldn’t imagine me life without her. Crazy and stubborn to a fault but fierce and loyal. I knew she’d be a good mother to m’children and a good soul to have in m’heart for the rest of m’days. She’s pretty too. That had a long way of it, Miki boy.”
“Yeah, I’m going to take your word on that one.” He shrugged. “Women—not a single… anything.”
“No, I’d gathered not,” Donal teased. “But I promise ye something, Miki boy. I will do my very best to ensure none of mine push ye too hard or do harm to ye and yer dog. That I promise ye.”
“Yeah.” Miki eyed him carefully. “What do I have to do for that?”
“Ye just keep lovin’ my Kane. Because I tell ye, boyo, I’ve never seen m’son as happy as he is with ye.” Donal winked at Miki. “And for that, I’ll battle any dragon that needs it. Even if it’s my boy’s mother.”
Ten
I’D FORGIVEN Kane.
It took me a bit longer than I liked, but when he brought Miki home—my human was not in the condition he’d been when he left the house. He was better now but not at first. It’d been days, but still, he hurt. Badly.
No, Kane was on my shit list. And I could shit a lot.
Luckily for Kane, there was steak being grilled on an outside stove-thing and I’d been promised one of my very own.
Promised by Donal—Father of the Foot-Stompers and Grumbling Mountains, Mate of the Betrayer.
Still, a man sometimes has to make do with what he has in front of him, and that’s the only reason I could think of Donal having the Betrayer as a mate. Well—looking around the yard—she also seemed to h
ave very large litters, a plus if a male wants to establish a bloodline to leave behind.
I’d already done my part. Preferring only human-bonded mates ensures not only a healthy litter but also puppies nearly always guaranteed to find their own humans without much effort. So far, all sixteen of my offspring have been scattered about the neighborhoods, and each of them are content.
That is all a dog could ask for in life.
That and freely-given bacon, but apparently that is too much to ask of some people.
People.
Miki was people. Good people. He’d come back to the house broken a bit but better inside. He’d gone out to fight something inside of him but instead found someone waiting for him—an evil he didn’t create but reaped anyway.
Sometimes humans betrayed each other with much bigger things than bacon.
I found my Miki and climbed up into his lap. He didn’t mind that I’d found the dead fish guts again, although this time, I merely nosed them around a bit. They smelled of Donal and oranges. The first I’m fine with. The second sting my nostrils, so I left it be.
Although by the cat-smug look on Donal’s face when he saw me come out of the roses, I’d say he was the one who’d gotten orange in there somehow.
“Your dog smells a hell of a lot better. It’s a wonder what regular baths can do.” Kane nibbled on Miki’s neck. They do a lot of nipping between them. More than I’d ever get away with, but they seemed to like it. It’s probably a lot nicer without having so much fur getting caught between their teeth, but I’m only guessing on that. Kane’s hairy enough to be Shiba Inu in some places. “And I’m gathering he’s wanting a piece of steak.”
“He always wants a piece of steak. Your dad got him one too.” Miki nodded to where Donal was slivering up my dinner and putting the pieces into my bowl. “He’s going to have enough. Shit, your dad even grilled him carrots.”
“He’d grill you carrots if you wanted them.”
“Do I look like I’d eat grilled carrots?” He sneered. My human really does sneer well, but I do like carrots. “Hell, aren’t carrots supposed to be raw?”
“You just like long raw things to chew on,” Kane teased, then grumbled when Quinn sat down on the lounging chair next to them. “Hey, go find your own love nest. We’re talking carrots, here.”
“I heard.” I liked Quinn. I liked him even better once I realized he was probably as sideways as Miki. He snuck me a piece of broccoli, making sure it was dipped in white slathering stuff before he gave it to me. “Your dog is more bunny than canine. Or do you think he is like this because he was a street dog before he moved in with you.”
“Don’t give him that, Q-bert. He’ll be….”
“He can sleep with you tonight, Q. I’m done with him hotboxing me out of the bedroom.” Miki wrinkled his nose. “Bad enough Kane snores.”
“Do not.”
“You do, actually,” Quinn remarked softly, and I slid over to his lap, begging shamelessly for anything he wanted to give me. Mournful puppy eyes worked on him, and I got a piece of crispy chicken skin from his plate. Nearly as good as bacon. “You’ve snored ever since Rafe punched you in the nose that first time.”
“He shouldn’t have grabbed my ass,” Kane protested, then yelped again when Connor flicked a finger against the back of his head.
“Rafe grabs everyone’s ass.” Connor stole the last piece of chicken from Quinn’s plate and split it with me. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be too fat to get up the stairs to sleep on Quinn’s bed. “’Sides, if it wasn’t for Rafe, you and Quinn would still be blundering around thinking you liked women.”
“I knew I never liked women,” Quinn snorted, slapping Miki’s hand when my human raised it up in salute. “I’d rather sleep with Dude here.”
“Good,” Kane growled playfully, baring his teeth in that funny way he did. “Because tonight, the only warm thing I want in my bed chewing on my toes, is this one here.”
I snorted as best I could.
As if I’d ever chew on his toes.
Eleven
MIKI’D HEALED up enough to be grumpy. Kane bore it well, but after the corner store complained about Dude’s ravaging of their outside produce cart, Miki and the dog were going on a road trip to the pier. They went in the GTO, Kane driving through Chinatown as if his life depended on it.
Considering how shitty Miki felt, Kane probably felt like it did.
He knew he should have been happy. Hell, he was alive. Kane—fuck, so much of his life was good because of Kane, but there was a small part of him lying in darkness.
And nothing would ever scrub that bit of black out of his heart.
“Do you think Damie knew I loved him?” Miki glanced at Kane as he drove into a parking structure. His lover’s hands were firm on the wheel and his knuckles weren’t white, so Miki figured the question wasn’t too off base. “I mean before… you know?”
“Mick, I think Damie probably only got into Heaven because you loved him,” Kane muttered, pulling into an empty space. “From what I’ve heard about the two of you, I’m surprised they didn’t lock the doors and throw away the keys to Hell because they’re scared you’d show up.”
“We weren’t that bad.” He paused, thinking about their first road trip and how many bars they’d been thrown out of. “Okay, maybe a little bit, but not like we Jake-and-Elwooded San Francisco.”
“Huh,” Kane grunted.
Damn, he hated that sound. He hated it even more since he was pretty sure Kane’d picked it up from him.
Dude was eager to leap out of the car, but a stern no kept him inside until Kane clipped a leash to the dog’s harness. Miki swung his legs out and winced when he struck the car door with his foot. A cane sprouted up from the back seat as Kane jostled it over the console.
“Take this, it’s dangerous out there.”
“Funny. I’m sure they laugh their heads off down there at the end of the rainbow.” He took the cane, leaning most of his weight onto it as he got out of the car. “You win a prize. Temporary custody of my dog.”
“Well, at least you’re admitting he’s your dog now.”
“Only when you’re walking him and people come over to coo at you.” He batted his lashes, widening his eyes in mockery of some of the women they’d met during their infrequent strolls. “Oh, what a lovely puppy. What breed is he? You must be really good at training him because he’s so well behaved.”
“Yeah, so well behaved he just took a piss on my sneaker.” Kane shook a few droplets off of his foot and glared down at the blond dog laughing at him. “You, boyo, are damned lucky he loves you, because I don’t let just anyone piss on my foot.”
“You better not let anyone piss on your foot,” Miki warned him, hobbling alongside of Kane. “Or anything else of yours, for that matter. Why would you do that? It’s disgusting.”
“Some people believe urine is a panacea.”
“A what?”
“Something that can cure all their ills.”
“Shit, why didn’t you say that to begin with? And if it did, why do people get kidney problems? That’s where piss is stored, right? Wait, no… that’s the bladder. What do the kidneys do? Filter stuff out?”
“About that.” Kane chuckled. “Not up on biology much, are we?”
“I know where your dick is,” Miki shot back. “And your mouth. Pretty much all the body parts I need to worry about. If any of those moves, then I’ll have a problem.”
They walked, slowly and not very far. To ward off the cold, Miki’d layered his clothes as much as he could and still bend a bit, but the chill worked its way into his bones and he faltered, nearly toppling over a pylon. Kane grabbed his elbow and jerked him back upright. He’d pulled too hard, throwing Miki off balance in another direction, and the lovers bumped one another, nearly stepping on Dude, sitting on the sidewalk between them.
Dude grunted his displeasure, then got up to sniff at a nearby wrought iron fence post while Kane untangled Miki from his arms.
“Hey, that’s Old Lady Finnegan’s place.” Miki jerked his chin toward an Irish pub set nearly up against the edge of the pier. “Man, wonder if she’s still around. Wait, Finnegan. You said your aunt or something used to own a pub before she died. Your aunt’s Old Lady Finnegan!”
“Well, she was. Passed now, remember? My cousin, Sionn, owns the place now.” Kane tugged on Dude’s leash to get his attention, but the dog ignored him, preferring to continue his sniffing investigation of the pub’s outdoor tables. “He’s been scarce, our Sionn. Da says he’s back in town, but I’ve not seen him.”
“That’s ’cause he’s hiding from your mother,” Miki muttered. “We’ll have to come back. She used to kick me out of here all the time. Me and Damie. She hated musicians playing in front of her place. Used to beat us away with a broom.”
“Yeah, she’d do that to her own kin too if you didn’t move fast enough.” Kane smiled, hooking his arm around Miki’s waist. “Come on, let’s go home. I’ve got a mind to warm you up some and put a smile on that face of yours.”
“Today’s the day, you know?” Miki moved slowly, the cane tapping along the sidewalk.
“The day you lost your boys?”
“Yeah.” He used to refuse to cry, but in the warmth of Kane’s embrace—even a half embrace—Miki let his tears go, hot and bittersweet on his face. “I’m glad I have you. I mean, fuck—I love you, Kane, but I miss them. I just fucking hate not having them with me.”
“They’re always with you, Mick,” Kane whispered, then kissed at a tear welling up along Miki’s lashes. “And someday, you’ll see them again. I know it. I can feel it in my bones.”
After A Whiskey Shot
“YOU’RE HAVING Doritos and coffee for breakfast, Sinjun.” It wasn’t a question for Miki, not in Damien’s mind. More of a statement, especially since his best friend shot a disgusted glance back at him, then continued to munch at the bright orange triangles he’d poured into a bowl.