Although Justin’s house had seemed lifeless, cold, and unwelcoming, Thom’s knock was answered. A wave of emotion hit him, and everything from Thom’s chest to his groin clenched. It felt like he’d been tackled, but in the weirdest way possible. This wasn’t being mowed down by a fully suited-up linebacker. Instead, it was like being in a pillow fight with a group of cupids and getting walloped by a super soft chunk of cloud—a cloud that exuded pheromones and radiated rainbows.
Thom’s gaze tracked every inch of Justin’s face. Had he really waited this long to do this? “Listen, I—”
“I owe you an apology,” Justin blurted.
“I…no, no, I’m here because I—”
Justin nodded. “You don’t have to believe me, but I honestly had no idea how inappropriate that would seem until I got caught.”
“Well, thank you, but—”
“I just, I was worried, you know? But at the same, I didn’t want to push back into your life like some kind of—”
“Stop! Wait.” Thom held up both hands, forgetting the leash was in his right one, causing Dog to awkwardly stumble forward. “Whoops.” He kept his left hand up and leaned over on his right side to give Dog a compensatory pat on the head. “Just stop talking for one minute, please. I need to say something first.”
A gust of wind ran up the back of his coat and he straightened again, shuddering. “Can we come in? I don’t know who pissed off Mother Nature but it’s January-cold out here.”
Justin stepped aside. “Of course. Yes, of course.” He waited for Thom to come in, then, wringing his hands, asked, “Are you here to forgive me?”
“I’m here…” Thom shook his head, more at himself than in answer to Justin’s question. It bothered him to think that Justin felt there’d been at least a part of Thom’s accusation that was true. It bothered him even worse to think that while Thom had been at his place thinking how much Justin must hate him for suggesting any of this could be Justin’s fault, Justin had been over here hating himself and feeling guilty. “I am not here to forgive you because there’s nothing for me to forgive. I had this all wrong. I’ve had a lot of things wrong. My whole life maybe…”
He drifted, trying to come up with a reasonable way to say things.
Justin shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“It seems I have a problem with perspective. I um…” He waved his hand, as if trying to pull words out of the air. “It seems the way I look at things might not actually be the way they are.”
Justin clicked his tongue. “Oh, Thom, hon. A lot of people—”
“No, wait.” Thom held up a finger. “Here’s the thing, see? My anxiety, my uh…issues, manifest as fear, right? I get that. I’m afraid all the time. But I honestly believed that there was truth to my fear. What I mean is, I thought I was looking at people and places and events and seeing things that nobody else was able to see. I could see that people hated me. I could feel their malevolence. I would think about something that somebody wanted me to do and I knew, without a doubt, that something terrible was going to happen if I went there. I just knew. And all this time, I never questioned the idea that what I was feeling might not be real. I don’t know if any of this makes sense to you, but while I always knew that my perception shaped my reactions, it was only today that I understood my perceptions might not be accurate all the time.”
“That’s a pretty big realisation to come to on your own,” Justin said. “Quite a breakthrough.”
Thom laughed, but it sounded more panicked than he’d expected. “It is. It’s huge. It’s intense and a little overwhelming. Honestly, I’m not in love with myself right now.”
Justin shook his head. “Don’t say that. I mean, I get why you’re saying it, but you can’t just blame yourself. You’ve lived what you’ve learned, and—”
“Okay, wait, stop, please.” Thom blew down his chin in an effort to cool himself. “It’s hot. Very warm in here.”
“Take your coat off?”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. Thank you.” Thom unwound his scarf and began to shrug out of his coat. “So, to make a long story short—or I don’t even know, maybe I’m making a short story long at this point—but the thing I have to say is, I’m sorry, Justin.” He held his coat, twisting it with Dog’s leash. “I’m sorry if my fucked-up perception made me think, or even suggest, untrue things about you. I know you would never betray Dog, and I know if there was any way you could have done something differently, you would have.”
Justin snorted a sound that was probably supposed to have been a sharp laugh but ended up being more of a sad choke. “I should have told them I didn’t know you. That I didn’t know either of you.”
“Right, sure, and made something that wasn’t an offense into an actual one?” Thom shook his head. “No, you couldn’t do that. What would have happened when they found out you really did live beside a guy and a dog that exactly fit the descriptions of who they were looking for? That you were, in fact, dating that guy?”
Justin shrugged. “So what? I’m supposed to have your back first and foremost.”
“Come on, Justin. I know you always have my back. I only hope you still will.” He held out his coat again. “Can I come in-in? Or do we have to keep doing this here in the hallway?”
Justin took his coat, then immediately let it fall to the floor. He tackle-hugged Thom against the wall, knocking the words he had wanted to say from his throat. “Oof!”
Justin immediately stepped back with a startled expression. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that so hard. I just…” He sucked a breath between his teeth. “I’m just really glad you came back.”
Thom snorted a laugh. “I’m really glad I came back.” He rubbed his shoulder, exaggerating it with a grimace and a groan. “I think.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Yes!” Thom smiled. “By stopping.”
“Wait, what?”
Thom reached out and rested his hands on Justin’s hips. “Maybe I misread you, but I think you were about to kiss me.” His heartbeat started to thrum faster in his chest when Justin looked directly into his eyes. He swallowed against a rise of panic that suggested the elevation in his blood pressure was a bad thing. “It’s been too long since we did that. Don’t stop now.”
“Deal,” Justin said, sliding his arms around Thom’s waist. “There are better places to do that than the wall, though.”
“Probably,” Thom agreed.
“Couch or bed?”
“Couch is closer.”
Thom laughed as Justin half-pulled, half-dragged him into the living room. Then he could have been anywhere for all he knew or cared, because Justin’s mouth was being pressed against his own. He closed his eyes so the rest of his senses could focus on the moment: warm lips that tasted like black pepper and coffee, the thump of Justin’s increasing pulse as Justin’s heartbeat caught up with his, the smell of coconut oil in Justin’s hair. He could hear the wet slide of their lips and the rough sandpaper sound of their jeans as they brushed against each other. This was everything—everything he needed, wanted, and had been waiting for. Been fighting for.
Then it stopped and Thom opened his eyes to a grin. “Whoopsie,” Justin pushed him onto the couch.
He cocked an eyebrow. “A little bit pushy-shovey today, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Justin said. “Wait until you see how pushy-shovey I can get, when using the right tools in the right circumstances. Which will, I hope, be now. The circumstances, I mean. As for the tool…” He climbed on top of Thom, earning himself a feigned groan.
“Must you?” Thom grumbled. “I mean, on me? You’re no hundred and twenty-pound teenager.”
Justin kissed his nose. “Lucky for you. By the way, in case you missed it, that tool I was talking about was my dick.”
Thom nodded. “Yeah, I caught it.”
“Good. I would hate for you to be getting the wrong impression.” He sat back, bracing on Thom’s thighs so he could yank off his shirt. “Now you.” Justin immediately started tugging at Thom’s shirt before Thom could respond.
“Hold your horses,” Thom said. He playfully whacked Justin’s knuckles. “There’s no medal for getting naked first.”
“So says you.”
Justin was in as much of a hurry to shed them both of pants, socks, and underwear, and Thom didn’t try to slow things down again. The sight of Justin’s body left him as much speechless as it did helpless. He’d known for a long time that it took a man’s body to turn him on. He’d had no idea how different a real body—one that radiated heat, that had tiny imperfections that somehow made the whole more beautifully perfect, and that was right there in front of him to touch and taste at will—would be so much more fascinating than anything he could ever experience through sight or imagination alone. He had thought there was no difference between virtual and real life, and never questioned his judgment about living alone and only experiencing anything sexual in solitude. That had been yet another understanding about which he’d been completely wrong. So, while Justin fumbled with fastenings and pant legs and little black underwear, Thom used every opportunity he could to trace Justin’s muscles and shape with his fingertips. To experience him like a body was supposed to.
When they finally locked gazes, both of them naked and hard, Thom touched Justin’s cheek with one hand, while the other painted imaginary highlights over Justin’s lips and jawline. “Thank you,” Thom whispered. “For everything. Especially for not giving up on me.”
“I couldn’t. Giving up on you would have meant giving up on us.” He caught Thom’s thumb between his teeth and ran his tongue around its tip.
Thom felt the tease in every inch of his dick. “If you want to fuck me, you should probably start doing that. Before I get too excited just to be here and end up cumming all over the both of us.”
Justin sucked in a sharp breath. “Stay right here. Don’t move a single muscle.”
Thom frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Two seconds.”
Thom rested his head and gave a heavy sigh. There’d been way too much waiting in his life, and now, even two more small seconds would seem too long. He heard the furnace click on and felt a warm rush of air from a vent beside the couch. It brought with it a scent of dust mixed with something sweet and floral, probably one of those scented oils. He tried to figure out what it was, but the only thing he could focus on was the pounding sensation in his core as the most turned on parts of him waited for Justin to come back. It was too hard to wait and too quiet to think, so he chose to do neither.
He slid his hand over his thigh, grabbed and squeezed his cock, and didn’t even try to check his breath when it rushed out of him. A wave of heat ran through him as he slowly stroked himself. He was finally going to do this, and he was unbelievably excited and more than ready to go. Let his chest get tight and his stomach fill with butterflies, at least the rest of him was reaching for the moment. Even if intercourse didn’t work out for him and he never tried it again, he was going to make sure this moment existed between them. All the way. Everything.
He shifted on the couch, dropped one foot to the floor, and tightened his legs as the intensity of his hunger grew. Against every instinct, he kept his strokes slow and his pressure light. He couldn’t push himself too far; that ending was for Justin and him to make together, but he couldn’t make himself stop, either. He’d stoked the fire just by thinking about letting Justin slip inside him, and now his mind was flipping through graphic images of men on men and putting Justin’s face on all of them.
He felt more than heard Justin walking towards him, opened his eyes, and turned his head. “Don’t stop,” Justin said. “I like it.” He knelt beside the couch, dropping two condoms and a bottle of lube. With a slow, deliberate touch, he ran one hand up Thom’s leg. “Can I help?”
Justin leaned into a kiss, and at the same time, in a movement that was surprisingly fluid, he climbed onto the couch. They felt their ways along each other’s body without ever breaking the kiss, and though Thom’s heart started racing when his knees were pressed back, and his throat and tongue seemed to go completely dry at the touch of Justin’s fingertips first around, then inside his hole, he didn’t stop Justin’s advance. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to come up with the words to do that even if he’d wanted to. Cognitive ability existed on a plane far removed from where he lay. He was in an existence that resonated with sensation, riding the waves of building desire.
He didn’t regain focus until a full second after Thom breached his body. He sucked in a gasp and held it, eyes and fists squeezed shut, overcome by a feeling that was one part shock, one part anxious, and one part satisfaction with himself for getting this far. He willed parts of his body to relax and open—his hands, throat, ass, and finally, his eyes.
Justin watched him, seemingly fascinated, not moving a muscle. “You feel amazing.”
Thom swallowed, trying to drag moisture into his throat. “Keep going.” He wiggled their bodies closer, inspiring a sharp gasp from Justin. “Give it to me.”
Once again, Justin took his lips with a kiss, and as the slide of Justin’s cock slowly increased in both depth and speed, building in drive and urgency, something deep inside Thom’s soul unlocked. He shuddered, his body gripping Justin’s cock and his hips moving against the rhythm of Justin’s hips. He was more surprised than pleased with how he quickly got hard again and thrilled with how good it felt when he did. He gasped into Justin’s mouth, grabbed Justin’s hip with one hand, and his own dick with the other. There was no slow or gentle strokes now. His hand moved over his cock as quickly as Justin moved inside him.
“Justin…I’m going to…” The words came out as puffs of air, with little sound and even less ability to work them into a full sentence.
“Do it,” Justin mumbled. “Cum.”
Sensation reached a crescendo; Thom hissed through gritted teeth and streams of pleasure unloaded over his trembling belly.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” Justin sighed, and not even a second later, he thrust, groaned, and shuddered through his own orgasm.
Several moments passed before Justin pulled away and sat up. He sighed a long, pleased breath before facing Thom and grinning. “Best way to end a fight, ever.”
Thom snorted a laugh. “Yeah, it’s a good one.” He tried to get his eyes to focus. “Okay. Wow. That was…an experience. I didn’t hate it.” He tapped Justin’s back. “Now get out of the way. I need a shower. And a drink.” He swung his legs off the couch when Justin stood and collected his clothes.
From the corner of his eye, Thom saw Dog peer into the living room and give him a head tilt, but he couldn’t tell if it was an oh-you’re-finally-finished or a hell-yeah-about-time look. He chuckled. Either way, Dog had a point.
“Also, could you do me a favour and take Dog’s leash off? I think we forgot about the poor guy.”
His legs were shaking by the time he got to the washroom and his lower back hurt. He looked in the mirror and pouted. He liked the way his lips looked, red and puffy and well-used. He doubted it was the only part of him that looked that way, and while the thought should have been at the very least silly, and at its worst, a bit humiliating, it just made him feel giddy and content. “Okay, I’m a bottom,” he told the mirror. “So what?” His mirror self didn’t argue.
When Thom came back into the living room, Justin was pulling the drapes closed and Dog was lounging on the area rug in the middle of the room.
“I’m surprised he left us be,” Justin said. “I guess he thought we needed our privacy. And speaking of privacy, it’s a good thing my neighbour was here while we were doing that. Next time we should close the drapes first.”
“Next time,” Thom said, smiling, “I like the sound of that.” He reached down and scrubbed the top of Dog’s head. “Who’s a good boy, hmm?”
Dog’s burst of tail-waving was a definite, “Me! I’m the good boy!”
Justin took Thom’s hand and pulled him back on the couch.
“You’re going to need to wait for round two,” Thom teased. “I am all the way done with your dick for today.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get used to it.”
They grinned at each other, and to Thom, it seemed like one of the most relaxed and honest moments he’d ever had in his life.
Justin patted the back of Thom’s hand. “Okay, at the risk of ending a good moment badly, I feel like I need to say something before we put this ‘cops and Dog and court’ thing to rest.”
Thom clicked his tongue and frowned. “Must you always?”
“Yes. But it’ll be just for a moment and then we can go back to basking in post-coital bliss, okay?” He didn’t wait for Thom’s okay to continue, no doubt convinced he wouldn’t be granted one. “See, here’s the thing. I know you think that Dog is the one and only reason you feel better than you used to, but he’s not. I mean, I think it totally helped for you to have a friend you could communicate with, especially one who could do it in a mostly non-verbal way, but Thom, you are the one who is actively working to improve yourself. Your hard work and your willingness to keep trying to get beyond your anxiety is the reason you’ve seen any success. Dog has been a valuable friend—a valuable tool, even—but anything and everything Dog has done to help you still required an effort from you. You had to keep taking the next step. Every person or place he brought you to, you could have walked away from. Every opportunity he gave you to speak, you could have chosen to remain silent. You’ve heard the statement that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink, right? That’s what Dog did. He led you to the water. But it was you who decided to lean down and get some of it.”
Thom looked at Dog, suddenly too somber for the prior mood. It was a complete buzz-kill. “I don’t want to think about this right now.”
“I know. But I think I have to take advantage of the fact that you’re relaxed to get this all out. Because here’s the thing, I’m not saying it won’t be hard if you have to say goodbye to him, or that it won’t be one of the worst things you’ve ever had to do. I’m just saying that if losing Dog results in more loss in your life, be it me or your job or your ability to move forward, then that’s on you. As harsh as that sounds, it’s the absolute truth. I like you a lot. I think you’re cute, I think you’re funny, and I feel like a good person when I’m around you. I want to spend time with you. Lots and lots of time with you. I also like Dog. He’s just as cute and just as funny—”
Thom looked up, surprised. “You don’t think he’s ugly?”
“I don’t think anyone in their right mind would consider Dog ugly, but that’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is no matter how much I like Dog, I won’t like you any less if he’s not here. And this—” he waved between the two of them “—this is about us. About how we feel about each other. Not how we feel about Dog or, frankly, anything else that might ever come along.”
Thom sighed. “Oh, good, no pressure, then.” He eyed Justin, trying to make a joke of everything, but all the self-doubt came rolling back. He really, really didn’t want to lose this, even if it was just the tiniest sprout off of a severely undernourished seed. Nor did he want to lose the friendship and comfort he got from Dog either. Apparently, he had to stop perceiving the two things as being interwoven. “I did all I could do, right? To keep him?”
Justin sighed. “You don’t need me to answer that, but I will. I know you, and I saw you gathering the courage to go back to that market and talk to complete strangers. I know how hard that is for you, especially since it was the damn market where things started to fall apart.” He turned Thom’s face towards him and looked directly into Thom’s eyes. “You did everything you could do.” He shrugged. “I mean, short of murder. But that’s a good thing.”
Thom sat up. He looked at Justin, half-naked and with the same kiss-bruised lips that he had, and in that moment, he realised two things. The first was that he had spent all day running not just for Dog, but also because he had claimed an unreasonable belief on the idea that he had to keep Dog in order to keep Justin; so it had followed that he’d had to do everything in his power to resolve the problem with Dog before he could resolve his issues with Justin. In reality, all he’d done was waste an entire day—weeks, really—out of touch with the one person who’d made him feel whole and comfortable.
The second realisation was one that he decided was something that needed to be said out loud: “I like you, too. I mean, I really like you. I think I probably like you too much, considering we’ve haven’t known each other all that long. But then, as I said before, my perception is known to get skewed. Maybe it’s okay to fall in love with someone the first time you speak to them.” He paused and pantomimed thought. “Even if that person did just attempt to plant the seeds of murder in my mind.”
“You’ve fallen in love with me?” Justin asked. At least, Thom thought he was asking. It had been said with a soft inflection of wonder, rendering the question into something that was more like a statement.
“Yeah, I think so,” Thom said, instantly regretting his choice of words, but at the same time, silently rejoicing over having said them. It felt weirdly good to say that to someone and mean it. “Yes, I mean. Yes, I have fallen in love with you.”
Justin nodded, his face lighting up with a full grin. “Oh, good. Because I was starting to wonder if I was letting my own feelings get a bit ahead of myself.”
From his place on the rug, Dog snorted, rose, and shook himself.
“Exactly,” Thom said, as if agreeing with something Dog had said. “Dog thinks we’re going to need something a little more direct than that.”
Justin didn’t hesitate. “I have already fallen in love with you, too, Thom. Head over heels. Jumped with both feet. The whole kit and caboodle.”
As if he’d been waiting for that confirmation, Dog bounded off the floor and onto the couch. He landed with two paws in Thom’s lap and the other two against Justin’s chest, licking Justin’s face.
“I’d say he approves,” Thom said. He flung his arms around both of them, wrestle-hugging them to the floor—a giant heap of good feels and, hopefully, the foundation to a future that could continue growing that heap into a mountain.
* * * *
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Thom whispered. He didn’t dare to bring himself closer to Justin for a myriad of reasons that ranged from the believable—the bench underneath him might make a weird sound and everyone would turn and look at him—to the outright ridiculous—the change in his equilibrium might make him swoon, fall forward, knock his head on the heavy bench in front of him, split his skull wide open and, while he, THE DEFENDANT, lay bleeding, Mr. Terrence Cope aka THE PLAINTIFF would make off with Dog without THE TRIAL ever taking place. He looked at the paperwork in his hands and blinked back tears.
The small claims court was held in a dingy little room nestled in a corner of an otherwise ostentatious building. The worn carpeting, stained ceiling tile, and hard benches made it obvious that small claims were a begrudged portion of the court process that the rest of the building considered to be a waste of valuable resources. He could only hope the judge wouldn’t look down at them the same way, but he was having a hard time convincing himself. There simply had to be other things a judge would want to do with their time than deal with his dog. Or anyone else’s trite issues, for that matter; day after day, hour after hour, listening to neighbours bicker over trees and fences, or to jilted partners arguing over valueless jewellery and dated electronics. What a life. The kind of life, in fact, that made people make rash decisions over things as foolish as whether or not they liked the colour of the tie the defendant happened to be wearing.
He reached up, gripped the knot on his tie, suddenly convinced it had to come off. Right then, right there.
“Nope,” he nodded, as if arguing with the word he’d just said aloud, and sucking in a deep breath before continuing, “Not sick. It’s my heart. This time for sure. Justin, I can’t…I—” He turned to Justin, not even sure what to say next. Beside Justin sat Marian, Justin’s mom, and they both looked just as anxious as he was sure he did.
“Breathe.” Justin took his hand. Squeezed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as if demonstrating the process. “Just breathe.”
“Telling someone to breathe when they’re having an anxiety attack is about as helpful as telling someone to calm down when they’re angry,” Thom hissed.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Justin managed to sound sincere and not angry that Thom had snapped at him, which made him, in Thom’s opinion, worthy of sainthood. “Let’s try something else. What makes what you’re feeling at this moment any different from how you’ve felt before?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have any of the physical aspects changed? Severity-wise or maybe a different spot?”
Thom shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, then—”
“All rise…” The bailiff’s voice shut them both up.
“Come on, boys,” Marian said, rising. “Pull it together.”
They looked at each other with wide eyes as they stood for the second time that day.
“This court is back in session. The Honourable Judge Morrison presiding.”
There were only twelve people in the room other than the bailiff, the judge, and some kind of clerical presence whose title Thom wasn’t sure of. Stenographer? Court reporter? Assistant? He’d spent most of the morning watching her fiddle with recording gear and found her bored efficiency soothing. He had no time for her now, though. His eyes were on the judge and the judge alone. Had she had a good lunch? Was it a good day for her? Did she like dogs? What was going on in her mind and how was she going to find for his case? He sent out a silent plea and closed his eyes as if that would help the thought find its way to her.
“Okay, we got Cope vs. Baron with respect to a dog…” Judge Morrison clicked her tongue as she scanned the papers in front of her. “If you two could please make your way to the front of the courtroom, the rest of you can take a seat.” She glanced at each of them with the same look she’d given the papers. “Is the dog in court?”
It took Thom a second to realise he’d have to answer. “No, ma’am, he’s not, I’m sorry. Should he be?”
“No.” She rearranged her papers so she could rest her elbows on the bench. “I hate theatrics. As charming as the recurring Hollywood scene of the dog running to its rightful owner is, my personal opinion is that the only thing a dog’s attention could mean is that one of you smell more like bacon than the other does.” She paused, as if waiting, but Thom couldn’t think of a single thing he was supposed to say about her comment. “Nothing? Not even a smile from one of you? All right, then. My husband always tells me I’m terrible at delivering a joke.” She waved at the both of them. “So, Mr. Cope, if you could state your claim for the record?”
“My claim is this jerk has got my dog,” Terrence Cope said, with no more eloquence than he’d used at the market. “I want it back.”
The judge eyed him. “And we’re going to leave terms like ‘jerk’ out of my courtroom for the rest of these proceedings, okay?” She waited for Terrence to answer, and when he didn’t, she slapped the bench with her palm. “Mr. Cope? Okay?”
While Terrence reluctantly submitted to the judge’s request, a thrill went through Thom’s blood. Good. Terrence obviously enjoyed acting like an aggressive idiot to everyone. That wouldn’t win the cranky Mr. Cope any favours with the judge, but it sure might help Thom out.
“And what do you have to say about that, Mr. Baron?”
“It’s…” The word came out of Thom’s mouth as a wheeze. There was no form, no structure, just a strangled passage of air. His heart dropped in his chest. His ribcage began to squeeze shut. He looked at the ground and breathed in and out as his vision swam. When he spoke again, he did it to the carpet instead of the judge. “I’m so sorry. I have some anxiety issues. I uh…I know that’s not anybody’s problem but my own and I’m not asking for special favours. Your time is valuable and I’m so sorry I’m slowing things down.”
“Mm, okay? Do you need some kind of assistance?”
He forced up his gaze. Her concern was genuine, and her voice was kind, even though he could tell she was masking some annoyance. There were still ten other people in the benches for her to deal with, after all. He shook his head. “It’s my dog. He is my dog. I bought him at the market, and I bought him fair and square. I took him to the vet, and I got him scanned and he hadn’t been microchipped or tattooed because we checked all that just to be safe. I got him all his shots and uh…I got him a bed. And a leash and a collar and a coat, and—”
“He did not!” Terrence scoffed. “I mean, he might have bought all that crap and went to the vet and whatnot, but he didn’t buy the dog. He stole it after my dog got out of the backyard, and I want it back.”
Once again, the judge smacked her hand on the bench. “That’s enough, Mr. Cope! You will get a chance to answer questions, but unless I ask you something, I expect you to keep quiet. We all get a turn, and this is Mr. Baron’s.” She held out her hand to Thom but kept her eyes on Terrence. “Mr. Baron, could I see the receipt you have for the dog’s purchase?”
Thom didn’t realise there’d been enough time for his heart to crawl back into place until he felt it drop again. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t have one. It was a strawberry vendor, you see. Not a breeder or anything. But he said Dog had been there since the beginning. That he was the last of a full litter, even, and just hadn’t sold because he was ugly.” He swallowed. “He’s not, though. Ugly, I mean. He’s a good dog.”
She cocked her head, not unlike Dog would do, which always made Thom think of tilting something into place. She clicked her tongue again and held out her hand to Terrence instead. “I’ll see your receipt now, Mr. Cope.”
“I ain’t got one.” He crossed his arms, posing defensively. “We got him out in Alliston when we were driving back from holidays. They had a sign in the road.”
“Do either of you have anything in writing from either of these people?”
She nodded when they both shook their heads. “I knew that was coming. Okay, I’ll see those receipts now, Mr. Baron. And I think you each have pictures. Pass them off to the bailiff, please.” She set each of the pictures they provided side by side in front of her, then took a minute to glance through Thom’s vet bills and pet store receipts. “They do look a bit similar, don’t they? Tell me, Mr. Cope, do you have any receipts or bills?”
Terrence looked nervous for the first time. “Yeah, I got some stuff at home, but I didn’t bring it. I think. I mean, probably. We got all its shots and the stuff you got to get, anyway.”
“Mm hmm.” The judge clasped her hands and looked at each of them in turn. “Well, Mr. Cope, you do understand that ownership of something is far easier to maintain if you have possession of it. In other words, it’s difficult to enforce ownership if you don’t have it. Especially if neither of you can prove that ownership.”
“But it’s my dog,” Terrence snapped.
“Why don’t you tell me how the dog got out? You obviously care enough about the dog to come to court to get it back. So how does one lose something that one cares about so much? And did you put out flyers before—” she paused to read something “—before you saw the dog and Mr. Baron at the market? Did you try to find him?”
“Of course!” Terrence held up a hand-drawn notice that could have been a year old or a day old. “We had these up all over the neighborhood.”
She summoned the bailiff to hand her the notice. “And the dog ran away because…”
Terrence nervously scratched at his scalp. “Well, to be honest, my wife would put him out in the daytime. The dog was a bit of a nervous one, you know? So, like, if somebody walks by, he starts up. If a squirrel gets too close, he goes off again. All day, every day, and loud, too. It bounced right off the walls, it was so sharp. She tried to put up with him, but she just couldn’t stand the barking.”
A loud, obviously fake cough shot through the room.
“So, she puts him out back, okay? It’s nice and big out there and everybody knows dogs prefer to be outside, anyway. We figure that one of the kids didn’t latch the gate right that day.”
Two quick, loud coughs followed the first, but it wasn’t until a fourth came, one that sounded too close to “Thom!” to be an actual cough, that he looked up. Both Justin and his mom were making crazy gestures, Marian grabbing at her throat as if she were choking, and Justin bouncing in his seat, hitting his chest.
Thom frowned. He shrugged as discreetly as he could manage.
Justin lifted his fist to his mouth and coughed again, except it didn’t sound like a cough any more than the last one had. It sounded like a bark. Thom’s eyes widened. A bark? A bark, of course! Dog couldn’t bark. Dog never could.
“Your Honour!” He cringed at the glare his outburst was awarded. “I mean…um…” He slowly raised his hand, like a kid in class trying to ask a question, confused about what the right thing to do was.
She lifted her eyebrow. “Yes, Mr. Baron?”
He said it all as if it were one word, “My dog can’t bark and he was born that way so he never could.” He gulped a huge gasp of air. “My vet is here. She can confirm it. It’s on his paperwork there, because we discussed it at our first visit. We’re even going to do a DNA test, just for fun, to see if it’s because of a latent breed or something. You know, a bit of husky in him or whatever.” A bloom of warmth started to grow in his chest. “They can’t be the same dog. They just can’t. Dog is incapable of barking.”
She looked at the paperwork again, examining it much more seriously. “You said your vet is here?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She looked out into the benches, questioning. “Which one of you is the vet?”
Marian stood, also raising her hand at the same time, as if she were making sure the judge would see her even though it would have been impossible not to.
“You confirm this?”
“I do,” Marian said, nodding emphatically.
“Medically and everything?”
“Yes, your Honour.”
The judge gathered up the papers, then handed them to the bailiff. “Give these back to Mr. Baron, please, and hand Mr. Cope his picture. Mr. Baron, enjoy your dog. Mr. Cope, I wish you all the luck in the world with finding your dog. Your case, however, is dismissed.”
Had it been a movie, everyone would have erupted into cheers, but although the room remained completely silent, Thom felt those cheers in his core. His hands shook so badly he could barely grab the papers. His knees felt too weak to walk. And he’d never been happier to feel like he was seconds away from passing out.
He met Justin and Marian at the door to the courtroom and couldn’t wait to hug both of them. “We did it,” he whispered. “I can’t believe we fucking did it!”
He’d been sure there was no way to win, but then he’d been sure a lot of things were going to fail that hadn’t. He gripped Justin’s hand, more convinced than ever that if he worked on the way he looked at things, life was going to get a lot easier. Not better, just easier. Not perfect, just more manageable. It was time to allow himself to take chances and live an actual life.
So, when Terrence stepped towards the door, looking as angry as a wasp caught in a jar, Thom felt that anger for what he imagined it to be—pain. The man had to be devastated; Thom would be, if in his place. The least Thom could do was offer sympathy, the way he himself was granted it along the way. “Mr. Cope, I’m really sorry you didn’t find your dog. I sure hope you do—”
Terrence stopped and his stance dried up Thom’s throat. Speech halted while Terrence slowly turned. Thom had never seen a colder stare than the one that bored out of his eyes. “Go fuck yourself.”
Thom flinched. He stepped back, putting more distance between them. “Oh…” He jumped when he felt Justin’s hand on his back and had to force himself not to do something ridiculous like try and hide behind Justin’s body. “Did you see that?”
“Yeah,” Justin said. “You know how I told you that people can be nice, and you should just give them a chance?”
“Mm hmm?”
“Well, sometimes people are just assholes.”
Thom watched Terrence leave, grateful Terrence didn’t look back again. So much for reaching out to humanity or giving people a chance. He shook his head. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. “How can you know who is and who isn’t?”
Justin shrugged. “You can’t.”
“So, what do you do?” Thom asked, confused.
“You just keep trying.” Justin pulled him closer and dropped a kiss on his nose. “You hope for the best and let it slide off you when it doesn’t go well. Now, let’s get Dog and take him for ice cream or something.”
Marian stepped closer. “No ice cream. You just got him back; you want to give him the poops? Or make him sick?”
“Doggy ice cream,” Justin clarified.
Both Thom and Marian spoke at once. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is so!”
They were all still arguing the point when they got in the car, not that Thom minded. Arguing or laughing, kissing or fighting, as long as they were doing it together, Thom was happy.
He’d be even happier when he got home and they could do it with Dog around.