Pairing: Haite X Taften
Mentions Of: Homosexuality.

Werewolf For Sale

A thin sheen of dried sweat clung to the lycanthrope's body after a hard day's work. His neighbour, Mr. McGregor, owned a pet shop and his assistant was out with the flu. Somehow he got roped into helping on his one day off from work. He was getting paid a mite sixteen silvers an hour for his work, but it felt like he should be getting paid sixteen gold pieces he was doing so much.

Taften stretched his sore arms higher than his head, intertwining his dactyls and forcing his knuckles to crack. "Ah..." he exhaled as the tension alleviated a tad. He brought the back of his left wrist to his brow and rubbed the sweat away - his single-breasted white shirt's sleeves had long since been shoved up above his elbows, the store was threatening to rival a sauna on the particularly hot spring day.

The old codger, Mr. McGregor, laughed heartily at the relaxed expression. His face, engraved with a patina of wrinkles and lines, brightened. He was a burly man around fifty-seven, with neatly trimmed gray-white hair and amber eyes. "We're just about finished here."

"Thank the stars," Taften shook his head in disbelief and smiled goofily, staring around the building. "Haite and the kids will be here to pick me up soon, is there anything you want me to do before they get here?"

Mr. McGregor ran a scrutinizing eye around the store, examining the cages of rabbits, snakes, turtles, canines and felines. "Actually, there is one thing you could do."

"Anything," Taften grinned. To get out of here, he added silently.

"The husky puppies in the front window need to be fed. You'll have to climb in to get the food in the dish. If you don't mind. I mean, I could do it but... you're a lot younger than I am and it would be easier for you to move around, but if you don't want to..." he trailed off, ending the guilt trip with a gentle nudge.

The werewolf ran a hand through his tawny hair, blowing long fringes out of his eyes. "It's not a problem," he kept the unimpressed sound out of his voice, "I'll do that and then I'll wait outside for them."

"Thank you! The dog food is next to the case, it's not hard to miss." Mr. McGregor motioned to the front from behind the counter, busying himself with making a list of restock.

Manipulative old coot. Taften shoved his left hand into the front pocket of his light blue denim jeans, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. I'm almost out of here, and then I can force Haite to make me dinner, a smile seemed to come to him slowly, a nice huge, massive dinner with oodles of chocolate and coffee and tucks and food..., said grin got increasingly wicked on account of the devious intent infecting his thoughts.

The case filled with fluffy, energetic puppies had a cardboard casing around it. He hiked his jeans up and lifted his leg over it, picking the black bag of dog food and lugging it over. The second he planted his foot in the area, the dogs were all over him, sniffing and licking and playfully jumping at him.

"Hey now--no humping my leg," he pointed sternly to the biggest puppy, that had intense brown eyes, "the only one who can do that is Haite!"

The smallest canine, evidently the runt of the litter, sniffed him intently and them flopped down next to him, rolling onto his back. Taften grinned and scratched its stomach.

The bells chimed and he frowned. More customers.

He crawled around the For Sale sign and sat on his feet. Taften dumped the food in the metal dishes and fended the affectionate dogs off. Then he started thinking that they were exceptionally cute. Cute? Must be the werewolf talking... wants a bigger pack and all...

Taften stroked the silky ears of the runt of the litter, lifting it up with his hands and staring it in the eyes. "Well, aren't you just so cute? Yes, I think you are! I know a little boy who'd love to have you. His name is Kaist, he's my son. He's wanted a puppy for years..." He cuddled it to his chest and sighed lethargically, giving the dog a look. "But you wouldn't want to be his pet, believe me. He'd pull your tail and tug at your fur."

In the silence that followed, he scratched the dog's head and rhythmically rubbed its back. It had been so long since he had a dog; Daisuke, his first dog, had left years ago. Taften's ears twitched at the sound of hushed voices behind him. Mr. McGregor talking with what he could only assume was a customer. He didn't look over. Instead, he continued to stare at the tiny pup in his arms.

"Sir," said Mr. McGregor uncertainly, "it's highly unorthodox..."

"I'm the customer here and I want the cute one in the window!"

Taften cooed to the puppy, smirking at Haite's voice. "I think we may be getting you," he whispered, pecking it on the top of his head. He loved puppies and dogs, above all Huskies because they were sled dogs and he loved the colour of their fur.

"Fine," the store-owner huffed, "but it's still unusual."

Their footfalls approached the case. When they came into view, Taften expectantly raised his eyebrows at them, but didn't say a word. Haite winked at him, their son Kaist gleefully fidgeting in his arms to get a better glance at the group of puppies.

Mr. McGregor offered him a sympathetic grin - wait, sympathetic? - and turned his head to Haite. "Which one was it you wanted, sir?"

Haite smirked. "I want that one."

And with that, he pointed directly at Taften.

The small red-headed boy, whose tiny hands were gripping the collar of his father's black t-shirt, was shaking him roughly. "I wanna puppy! I wanna puppy! I wanna puppy! I wanna puppy! I wanna puppy!"

"Kaist--you're--choking--me!" He gasped out. Haite shifted the boy in his arms, holding him at his hip. "No more choking daddy, he gets grouchy about it."

Kaist pouted his lower lip out, making the wettest, biggest puppy eyes he could muster. "H-Daddy?"

Hesitantly, Haite replied, "Yes?"

"I wanna puppy!" He screamed delightfully, biting timidly down onto his lip. "T-Daddy got to play wiff them all day... I wanna puppy... I wanna puppy!! Two puppies! I wanna puppy!"

"No puppies!"

Kaist's eyes welled up with tears, "H-Daddy... you don't love me..."

"Urk!" He exclaimed, his conscious receiving a sharp stab.

"T-Daddy wants a puppy too... he says I can have one if you say its okay..." Kaist stared at his hands, sniffing sadly. "You no want me happy..."

It sounded like something Taften would say. He did like dogs. Haite's resolve to keep animals out of the house gradually whittled down. "Did Taften really say that?"

"Uh," Kaist swallowed the saliva in his mouth, "huh."

"...Okay... we can get a puppy," he caved, "but only if I find one I like."

The pearly gray eyes on his son's face lit up. They seemed to twinkle in his excitement. "Really?!"

"Yes, but only if I find one I like," reiterated Haite.

In the distance, the far-end of the park they were strolling through, he could see the sign for the stores. It wasn't hard to locate the one that said Mr. McGregor's Pet Shop, as the font was big and there was a dog in the corner of it. The last bit of walking was filled with Kaist eagerly expressing his joy for getting a puppy and saying he'd walk it and feed it and love it and do everything.

Haite didn't believe a word Kaist said. He knew he'd be the one taking it for a walk, letting it out for a pee at ungodly hours of the night, feeding it and playing with it.

"I really will H-Daddy! I'll play wiff it in the back yard and play fetch with it!"

"Ha!" He laughed. "Knowing my luck, the dog will play Keep Away instead."

Kaist's head tilted dramatically in confusion. "H-Daddy, what's that?"

"Ah, it doesn't matter, but look the store is up ahead and I think there are puppies in the wind--" Haite's breath caught in his throat.

In the window there were puppies, lots of them, but they didn't matter. The For Sale sign was what enthused him, and the person sitting next to it.

To see a For Sale next to the brown-haired beauty was virtually a dream come true.

"We're going to go inside and buy something right now and you'll love it and I'll love it," he said in a rush, the words blending together.


The bells chimed when he pushed the vitreous door open, lithely darting through the shelves until he approached the counter. Haite took a deep breath and slammed his fist onto the hard wood, "I demand you sell me the cute looking one in the window!"

Mr. McGregor screwed his face up in confusion. "Haite, are you feeling alright?"

"You've got to sell me the good-looking one in the window! There's a For Sale sign next to him and I want to buy him before someone else gets their grubby paws on him!" Haite glanced back feverishly over his shoulder, leaning back to peer past the shelves to the front where he could vaguely make out the cardboard. He shifted back on his feet and eagerly whirled his hand in the air, "Come on! Come on! I want to buy the one in the window!"

"Which one?"

"The only one that matters," he said condescendingly. "I want to buy the one with gray eyes and brown hair..."

Mr. McGregor's face wrinkled. He moved to look at the window and frowned. "Taften...?" He asked debatably.

Haite nodded his head, lifting Kaist back up to the crook of his elbow - he was trying to escape his arms to go and play with the animals. "Right! So, how much?"

"Let me get this straight," he licked his lips, bracing his elbow on the table and pointing his finger at the tall red-head, "you want to purchase... Taften... from me?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Now how much? Do you accept credit cards?" He fiddled in his trouser's pockets for wallet.

"Err," he rubbed his face, getting a better look at Haite's face, "you want to buy Taften?"

"Yes! Geez! How many times do I have to tell you I do?"

"He's not for sale..."

"Is so!" Haite countered. "There's a sign next to him that says For Sale and I'll be darned if I let some other bloke buy him!"

"Sir," said Mr. McGregor uncertainly, "it's highly unorthodox..."

"I'm the customer here and I want the cute one in the window!" Haite just about stomped his foot to prove his point. In fact, he did a second afterwards to give the owner that little extra push to see it his way.

"Fine," he gave him a fed up expression, "but it's still unusual."

They walked to the front of the store, Haite struggling to keep Kaist in place and to stifle the look of pleasure on his face. He was going to purchase his favourite werewolf. Hey, maybe Taften will make me dinner tonight! I am buying him and--oooh, if I buy him, I could get him into that French maid outfit of his... and make him speak French all night long to me... He grinned deliciously at the prospect.

Haite winked at Taften, trying to send the thoughts towards him with the gesture. Taften returned the wink with a puzzled look.

Mr. McGregor offered Taften a sympathetic grin and turned his head to face his customer. "Which one was it you wanted, sir?"

"I want that one," smirked Haite.

And with that, he pointed directly at Taften.

The werewolf's face fell. "Say what?"

"I'm buying you! Aren't you gla--Kaist! Don't do that!"

Kaist scrunched his face up angrily and crossed his arms over his chest. "'S not fair! T-Daddy gets to play wiff the puppies but I don't!"

"Haite, set Kaist on the floor," Taften lifted the tiny puppy over the cardboard and set him on the floor, getting out of the makeshift cage. "We have something to talk about."

"Puppy!" Kaist screamed, jumping out of Haite's arms. The puppy woofed and affectionately licked the boy's cheek.

Taften watched them and ushered them a few feet away. When he returned, he took a deep breath. "You're buying me?"

"No, I'm lying," Haite rolled his eyes, "of course I am! You were in there and there was a For Sale sign and I'm buying you so you will be mine! I'm going to go pay for you now, please don't have an accident or run away. Kaist won't be happy to find his daddy's new play-thing gone."

Taften promptly smacked his forehead with his palm. "Ugh..."

Mr. McGregor muttered something about Crazy kids... and went back to the front of the store.

"How much is this going to cost?" Haite rifled through his wallet and pulled out a gold card.

"Twenty gold... for the... ur... dog..." he glanced over at Taften, who was shaking his head at the matter, "and it comes with a 20 KG bag of dog food, a dog collar, a certificate for it's shots... and some dishes..."

"Brilliant!" Haite handed the card over. "But can I buy something else?" He leaned over and whispered something to the older man, making sure Taften couldn't hear him by talking even lower than his lycanthropic senses could pick up.

McGregor moved back, a strange tug of his lips. "If that's what you want, I can do that... it'll cost three more gold though."

"That's fine!" Haite waited and took all the necessary things he'd purchased from the man. There was something hidden inside a bag that Taften couldn't see, though he tried. "Come now, wolfy," Haite wrapped an arm around Taften's waist, yanking him to the front of the store while balancing the heavy bag in his left hand. "We're going to go for a walk in the park first and then we'll pick January up from school and then we're going to go home and..." he winked naughtily, "play."

Taften's face went a deep shade of pink at the hidden meaning. "Ur..." He changed the subject, looking back at his neighbour, "B-Bye, Mr. McGregor..."

"I wish you the best of luck," remarked McGregor, another sympathetic face.

"Taften, can you grab Kaist? And the puppy too, the fifth addition to our family."

"You bought the puppy?" Taften's eyes went wide. "Did you really?!"

"You're not worth twenty gold, I'm afraid. I couldn't afford you, you're too expensive."

At the fact he'd just been hit on and received a puppy, Taften had to try and stifle the grin threatening to split his lips with its sheer size. He picked up Kaist who held the puppy-without-a-name.

In the park, Kaist ran around with the puppy, toddling and falling and trying to teach it tricks by showing it how. Haite and Taften watched from a nearby bench.

Haite had a smirk plastered on his face and he kept rubbing the plastic of the bag the secret item was in.

Taften couldn't quail the curiosity, he had to ask. "What's in the bag?"

"I knew you'd ask," he got in response, the smirk twitching wider, but the eyes never leaving their son. "You'll enjoy it wolfy, I promise."

"What will I enjoy?"

The brown eyes finally turned to meet his. "The gift I bought for you, of course."

"And what, pray tell, did you buy me?" He pressed.

"Oh I don't know if I should show you," Haite sunk his teeth into his lip, turning his head and staring out the side of his eye, "you wouldn't like it."

"I'll be the judge of that that!"

Haite sighed with gusto, "Well alright then, but you won't get it 'til I explain it to you." He handed the bag over to Taften.

"Explain it to me?" He undid the knot that had been made at the bag's handles, tugging out a black dog collar with chains and tiny spikes. "Um... that's great, but it's too big for the dog."

Haite raised one eyebrow. "Who said it was for the dog?"

"...It's not for the dog..." he muttered, not needing reassurance to know what Haite's intent was for it.

"Exactly," Haite thread his fingers into Taften's hair, tugging his head close. His breath was ghosting over Taften's lip, but he managed not to lean in just yet. "It's for me... and you..."

"What are you thinking?" He questioned breathlessly.

"I'm thinking," he thumbed Taften's cheek, pressing one light kiss on the opposing lips, "that you or I will wear it to bed tonight... and we'll take out those black fluffy handcuffs you think are so much fun..."

Taften turned scarlet, "Shh! What if someone hears?"

"They'll be strangely aroused," he replied.

"Thanks for the pleasant images."

"You're welcome. But doesn't the thought of that just burn you to the core?"

Taften sighed and checked on his son, making sure he hadn't been stolen. "Haite," he moved his eyes back to Haite's. He wasn't going to lose this little battle. "This," he lifted the dog collar, watching Haite glance at it, "and the fuzzy handcuffs, you'll wearing them. And you want to know what else you'll wear?"

"What...?" Haite swallowed hard at the idea.

Taften leaned in, pressing his lips close to Haite's ear and whispered one word, "Nothing...

"H-Daddy! T-Daddy!" Kaist ran over to them, the dog bounding after him.

Haite coughed, spluttering and giving Taften a certain look. "Y-Yes, Kaist?"

"I thought of a name for the doggy!" He climbed up between his fathers on the bench and reached down to the grab the puppy. "I'm going to name it... Bark, 'cause that's its favourite word!"

Taften chuckled, taking the puppy. "Maybe we should wait to name it until January has seen it too; she's good at naming things."

"Well... otay... but it's my puppy," Kaist declared.

"I know he is--" Taften frowned, "is it a he?" He lifted the dog and widened his eyes. The dog simply wagged its tail and stuck its tongue out. "She, I should say."

"She's getting spayed. I'm not having any little puppies running around," Haite muttered.

"Haite," Taften didn't take his eyes away from the puppy, "if you want to have fun with me tonight you won't do that to this animal. I think puppies would be lovely. Unless you don't want any more little ones running around."

Little ones? Haite's eyes flew wide at that meaning of that: No xxx for him tonight, or any night for that matter! "NO! I mean, cough, no, we won't get her spayed..."

"Good, now let's go get January and go home so we have enough time to make a giant dinner," it was Taften's turn to smirk roguishly at Haite, "you're going to need your strength tonight."

Kaist stared between them and then at the puppy in his lap. "Daddies... the doggy peed on me..."

Haite groaned, "Bad puppy. You ruined the mood!"

When they stood up, Taften tugged Haite into a hug and pressed his hand firmly to the front of his jeans. "Oh, so he did ruin the mood. Oh well, I guess that means no fun for you tonight," he moved away and grabbed the puppy. "Come on Kaist, we'll go get you into your spare clothes."

"I WANT FUN TONIGHT!" Haite cried to their retreating backs. "I'm fine again! Let's go play!"

Kaist giggled, struggling to keep up to Taften with his little legs. "H-Daddy really wants t' play too!"

"Yes," Taften grinned playfully, "he really does..."