Barking up the wrong tree [Part Three]

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“Down here?” Izuku asked, as Dog Might tugged at his leash demandingly. “What’s up, boy?”

He followed all the same, surprised when Dog Might headed straight for the mouth of a little trail run, one where Katsuki often ran in the mornings. Katsuki wasn’t a fan of running in the streets, even early in the morning when there weren’t too many people around, so when they’d bought their house, part of their search criteria had been the local exercise options. The neighbourhood they’d chosen was in close proximity to a lot of nice trails, Izuku certainly made good use of them too, but the one Dog Might dragged him toward was one of Katsuki’s particular favourites.

“I guess it is a little hot out,” Izuku mused. “You want to walk in the shade, buddy? That’s fair, we can do that.”

They walked up the first hill, the steepest part of the trail, but when the path began to level out a little, Dog Might began to run. Izuku jogged after him despite his surprise, keeping the leash looped around his wrist carefully, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Dog Might looked up at him with shining eyes, his tongue hanging out in happy pants as they ran together along the narrow, winding path. Dog Might sped up, and Izuku matched pace with him every time, even though Dog Might seemed determined to stay ahead. They slowed down occasionally, when the trail was particularly muddy or slippery, and Dog Might took a minute at one point to navigate his way through a little rocky patch without hurting his paws, but other than that, they just continued to run, enjoying the cool breeze that shared the quiet space in the trees with them.

When they reached the end of the trail, a small stream where the path made a loop and turned back on itself, Dog Might finally slowed to a stop, and Izuku watched fondly as he waded into the stream, splashing happily in the cool water.

“Thanks for making me laugh,” he said, when Dog Might looked back at him. “I haven’t done much smiling lately, since Kacchan’s been gone, so I’m really glad you can make me happy, even just for a little while at a time.”

Dog Might padded back to him, and Izuku sat down to lean against a tree, letting Dog Might climb into his lap without a care in the world for the wet, muddy paws that scrabbled at Izuku’s shorts.

“I’m glad I found you,” he said softly, wrapping Dog Might up in a big hug. “I know it’s awful, but I hope no one comes looking for you. It’ll be sad if no one cares, if no one is out searching, but I don’t want to let you go.”

Dog Might let out a tiny bark, for what Izuku was pretty sure was the first time, and shoved his face on Izuku’s shoulder pointedly.

“Thanks,” Izuku chuckled. “I can’t believe no one is looking for you, though. I sure would be. I wish I could be out searching for Kacchan, too. They won’t let me, though, and I see their point. I’d go feral if I found him anything other than safe and happy, and I wouldn’t want to jeopardise the whole search with my emotions. Uraraka is out there, though, and Kirishima too, so I know there’s a good team on his trail. We just have to sit back and let them do their jobs, so he can come home to us.”

Dog Might whined quietly, and Izuku hugged him a little tighter, before he let go all together.

“Time to head home?” he suggested. “I think it’s just about dinner time.”

Dog Might wagged his tail, hopping up quickly, and Izuku smiled as he unclipped the leash from his collar.

“Don’t tell anyone I let you off leash in a public space,” Izuku whispered in his ear. “I’ll get in trouble.”

Dog Might barked again quietly, and Izuku grinned as he ruffled his ears.

“I’ll race you down,” he said, watching Dog Might’s tail wag harder. “But don’t slip!”

Dog Might took off immediately, only pausing briefly to make sure Izuku was following, and Izuku laughed brightly, hurrying to catch up. When they reached the mouth of the trail again, he stopped and waited, and Izuku clipped the leash back onto his collar, giving him a quick hug while he was there.

“Good boy,” he praised, getting a tail wag in return. “Let’s head home.”

Dog Might behaved surprisingly well in the street, considering how unhinged he’d gotten in the forest, and soon they were trotting up to the front door together, ready to head inside for lunch. Just like breakfast, however, Dog Might just turned his nose up at the kibble Izuku offered him, staring pointedly at the fridge. He nudged at Izuku’s feet the entire time he assembled his sandwich ingredients, and with a suffering sigh, Izuku caved, throwing him a slice of ham. Dog Might barely even stopped to chew, chowing down like his life depended on it, and Izuku nudged at the dog bowl lightly with his toe.

“Yours is here,” he explained – again. “This is dog food, mine is people food.”

Dog Might whined quietly, tilting his head to the side all cutely, and Izuku felt his self-control snap in two.

“Oh fine,” he huffed. “But for dinner you’re eating dog food!”

He threw a couple more slices of ham Dog Might’s way, watching his tail wag up a storm as he inhaled them, and together they retired to the living room – for Izuku to watch TV and eat his sandwich, and for Dog Might to rest his head on Izuku’s thigh and look cute in the hopes of getting more ham.

“I’m gonna steam some vegetables for dinner,” Izuku told him. “You won’t like steamed vegetables, so you’re gonna have to eat dog food.”

Dog Might just wagged his tail, looking pitiful, and Izuku huffed at him, rubbing his ears all the same.

“Nothing but broccoli and cauliflower, maybe some carrots. No ham, no chicken, nothing.”

Dog Might stuck his tongue out, panting a little, and Izuku grumbled as he leaned over to kiss the fluffy head.

“You always look like you’re smiling when you do that,” he murmured into the fur. “I hope you’re happy and I’m not just reading too much into it.”

Even with the sandwich gone, Dog Might continued to snuggle against Izuku’s side, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes. He stayed there for a good hour, before he got up and padded off out of the room, and Izuku watched in confusion.

“What are you doing?” he called, jumping up to follow. “Dog Might?”

He hurried down the hall, only to find Dog Might standing in the bathroom, staring blankly at the toilet. Izuku laughed to himself, shaking his head, and pointed off toward the back door.

“You go on the grass, silly!”

Dog Might just continued to stare at him, so Izuku walked over to the door, pulling it open wide and waving for Dog Might to pass through. Their garden area was small, just a tiny fenced-in piece of grass and a few wooden crates Katsuki planted vegetables in sometimes, but Dog Might looked back at Izuku with every step, hesitant.

“Go on, buddy!” Izuku called. “I’ll be right here!”

Somehow looking incredibly unimpressed, Dog Might walked over to a corner of the fence, looking away as he raised a leg. He somehow seemed embarrassed by the action, even though Izuku had seen him do it a dozen times already on their walks, and once again Izuku wondered what kind of sheltered life the little guy had led before he’d been abandoned. Did fancy pure-bred dogs have litter boxes or something? Outhouses so they didn’t have to get wet in winter? Doggy toilets?? Izuku suddenly felt woefully unprepared.

Would Kacchan have known?

───

“Come on, Dog Might,” Izuku whined, patting the beanbag bed lightly. “Look how cozy it is!”

He’d laid the dog bed out in the bedroom, where he’d be able to see Dog Might from bed, just in case he needed anything. Dog Might had refused though, as usual – just like he’d once again refused to try the dog biscuits Izuku had bought. He’d even opened up the fanciest bag to try to entice him, but no such luck. Instead, the little weirdo had munched on bits of streamed vegetable Izuku had offered him, apparently more interested in broccoli than he was in actual dog food. Izuku wasn’t sure what he was going to do, if it kept up – maybe wet food would be more interesting to him? Or was there some kind of human food diet that would get him all the nutrients he needed? He knew other people would have told him to just refuse to give him anything else, to make him at least try the biscuits before letting him have human food instead, but Izuku was a sucker for Dog Might’s pitiful little whines. Maybe Katsuki would have more luck, when he got home.

Then again, Katsuki was a massive sucker too, he just hid it better

“Look, you’ve got the best blankie,” Izuku said with a sigh, patting at the soft, fluffy blanket he’d laid out over the beanbag bed. “And you have a pillow, and some toys – everything you could possibly want!”

Dog Might barely even cracked an eye open to acknowledge the words, comfortably sprawled along an entire side of the bed.

“I know you like the bed, but that’s Kacchan’s spot, I can’t have him come home and find it taken! What if he stumbles home in the dark and wants to crawl into bed to rest? He needs to know his bed is still here for him!”

Dog Might looked at him properly this time, but still didn’t budge, and Izuku sighed once more. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Dog Might’s big fluffy form, and getting an indignant little growl when he lifted him down to the dog bed.

“See? It’s so comfy!” Izuku insisted, patting an unimpressed Dog Might and trying to coax him to lie down. “I love beanbags, they’re so comfy and cozy, but still supportive enough for my back. You’d think at my age I wouldn’t have to worry about that yet, but a hero’s life is a rough one! Heh, and I bet your life is a ruff one, huh, Dog Might?”

Dog Might just stared at him, completely deadpan, and Izuku ruffled his ears fondly.

“I’m gonna hop in bed,” he said. “And you’re gonna stay here and get all comfy and cozy. If you at least try it, I’ll give you people food tomorrow. If you don’t, it’s kibble only! You hear me? I won’t fall for your manipulation and begging this time! I’ll starve if that’s what it takes!”

Dog Might growled again, but sat down obediently, refusing to take his eyes off Izuku.

“Good boy!” he praised, hugging Dog Might tightly again. “I swear, you’re gonna love it, it’s gonna be so comfy! And I’ll be right here, okay?”

He crawled into his own blankets, reaching for Katsuki’s pillow to hold – it still smelled of him, just a little, even though Izuku and Dog Might were starting to tip the scales in their favour. Izuku just hoped Katsuki would be home by the time it totally faded.

It took a while for him to fall asleep, with the pillow in his arms and Dog Might staring him down, but eventually he drifted off, only waking up when he felt something soft brush against his face. He blinked a couple of times, to focus his vision in the dark, and found Dog Might burrowing down into the blankets beside him, flopping happily onto his side with just his head poking out of the blankets.

“You’re so funny,” Izuku whispered, reaching out to stroke his ears. “Alright, at least you gave it a shot this time.”

Dog Might’s eyes closed immediately, snuggling in, and Izuku set the pillow down, wrapping an arm around Dog Might instead.

“Sweet dreams, buddy,” he whispered.