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Pawford Ch 8: Here We Go Again copyright 2014 comidacomida

We both ended up spending the night on the sofa. True, there isn't a lot of room for two fully grown men but the emotional closeness helped us appreciate the physical proximity and I know I slept a lot better than I would have thought. Breakfast was a nice collection of bacon, sausage, and eggs, and CJ's mood was probably the best it had been in days. He hung out around the house, helping me with a few projects for most of Saturday before he got a call on his cell from Locker; the Pitbull needed some extra help at the garage.

We had just finished working at fixing a shaky handrail on the porch when he declared he had to go. Leaning down to touch his nose to my forehead he smiled, "Hey... thanks for hanging out with me last night... it means a lot."

Smiling, I put down the hammer I'd been holding when he approached me for one of his patented bro-hugs, "Yea? Well thanks for coming over."

He reached into his pockets to fish out his keys as he headed toward his truck, "Things should start quieting down at the garage soon... if I don't see ya before then, whadda ya think about coming over to my place for dinner next Friday?"

I smirked, unable to pass up the chance to get on his case. "Starting to plan a week in advance? Who are you and what did you do to the CJ I know?"

He climbed into his truck and shut the door then rolled down the window. Leaning out, he winked. "Some things are worth planning for."

There was a different side to CJ I was just starting to see, and that stayed on my mind over the rest of the weekend and into the following week. As the final paperwork of the summer season went through my office I was kept busy, but not too busy to meet the Rottweiler for lunch at his garage on Wednesday. I'd stopped by Roy's and picked up a half dozen Monster Burgers, figuring the guys could probably do with lunch since apparently they didn't have much time to do a food run. When Netti, the cashier heard I was on my way to join the guys at CJ's for lunch she included fries and shakes with each burger at no charge.

My foresight into picking up extra food turned out to be uncanny. All three Dogs took a break the moment I arrived with the cardboard box filled with six lunch sacks. There was plenty to go around... even if Hoss DID manage to down two burgers and the fries that came with each. Dot, to my surprise, was also in attendance, so Locker split the last burger with her and she got a shake all to herself and split the fires with CJ. Since there was one shake unaccounted for I took that as my extra share and ended up regretting it... to be honest, I think we all did (except for Hoss, who helped down a few extra fries and seemed ready for more).

Everyone was in good spirits throughout the meal, chatting about anything and everything. Dot took the opportunity to tell everyone what she was learning at school and made an excellent showing of knowing her multiplication tables-- something that Locker proudly declared she wasn't supposed to know for another year yet. Hoss pointed out that the pup obviously got the brains from her mother's side, and the resulting response put an end to the peaceful lunch. The Pitbull and Lab returned to their work in the back, laughing the whole while, leaving just CJ, Dot, and myself in the front room.

The little pup continued eating her fries, humming to herself as she kicked her legs alternatingly where they hung off the counter. CJ glanced past her, shooting a smile my way before he downed the rest of his shake, "I gotta get back there before they start looking for weapons among the tools. You mind hanging out for a few and keep an eye on Dot? Her mom should be by in a minute to pick her up."

I glanced at my watch; with twenty minutes left on my lunch break that gave me a good ten minutes of time to spare, "Sure... I just have to be back at the office by two."

Dot, despite having a very vocal and crude father turned out to be quite the pleasant conversationalist. She was polite and outgoing, happily talking about anything and everything under the sun. Whether I brought up something to talk about or she pulled some non-sequitor out of nowhere she was a bundle of gregarious energy. The next eight minutes passed like a shot and, before I knew it a car horn gave a quick triple tap from the parking lot. Dot's ears went straight up, "Oh! That's mama!"

The pup hopped off the counter and ran to the window, raising a paw and waving wildly. I looked to the car and saw a pretty Pitbull with a pair of sunglasses on. She waved back to the little girl and motioned her forward. "That looks like your ride, huh?"

Dot nodded her head, "Yep! That's my mama! Bye, Mr. Sommers!"

I couldn't help but smile, "Bye, Dot."

She turned back toward the desk and barked out in a voice that sounded like it should have come from a Dog twice her size, "DADDY!!! MAMAS HERE! I'M GONNA GO!"

An equally loud roar came from the back, clearly identifying where the young Pup got it. "BYE MEATBALL! DO YOUR HOMEWORK!"

Dot turned toward me and hugged me around a thigh, "Bye!"

I laughed, "Bye again."

She got to the door and opened it, tail wagging as she glanced back toward me, "Bye again!"

Shaking my head and chuckling, I waved, "Bye again, again."

I watched her head out to the car and hop inside. She and her mother exchanged several words and I saw the woman take off her shades and look my way. Raising a hand to her I offered a smile; she nodded and one of her paws came off of the steering wheel to offer a wave. With little more to be done, I gathered my things and headed back to my office-- the rest of the day was more of the same paperwork from the morning but the visit to the garage kept me smiling regardless.

* * * * * *

CJ made good on his promise to meet again on Friday night, and that started with a trip, as usual, to Arizona's. Rather than head to the garage I decided to meet him at the bar. Hoss arrived first, followed about ten minutes later by Locker and then, after a handful of minutes CJ showed up carrying a large paper bag with him. Locker was the first to comment on it, "So... what's what the bag, CJ? Figured you'd take some work home with ya?"

Hoss' tail beat out a rhythm against the booth as his nose worked the air, "Hmm... smells like he went shopping."

CJ reached out and put his paw in the Lab's face, pushing his muzzle away from the bag, "Nose-off, Hoss; this is dinner tonight."

Locker blurted out a "HA!" followed by, "We're at a restaurant, CJ... you're supposed ta get dinner HERE."

I smirked, leaning my elbow on the table as I glanced across it at the Pitbull, "This is a BAR, Locker... you're supposed to get BEER here."

The mechanic reached over to me and swiped sideways at my elbow; with my weight off-balance I nearly face-planted on the table. "Starting to think that fried jalapeenos and onion rings ain't a dinner, huh? Didn't figure you the prissy kinda Human there, Sommers."

Hoss stepped in to correct him. "Jalapeños."

Locker bit his thumb and flicked it at the Labrador, "That's what I said-- jalapeenos."

The next twenty minutes was spent in friendly banter and one-upmanship... mostly between Hoss and Locker with just a little bit of prodding from CJ and myself. In the end, Locker polished off a few beers and excused himself since he had a family to get back to; Hoss stayed a few more minutes before likewise making himself scarce-- apparently the night was still young for him and the pool table was calling. That, as usual, left just two of us, and I certainly didn't mind. Collecting my things I looked across the booth to my best friend, "You ready, Ceej?"

The Rottweiler's smile was somewhere between sheepish and expectant, but he quickly scooted out from behind the table to follow, "You bet."

I checked my pocket for my keys, "You want to follow me or should I follow you?"

He motioned to the door, "We should prolly take your car. I'm just a little on the buzzed side but I can always get Hoss to get my truck and bring it over later this weekend."

Nodding, I headed toward the door, pausing only long enough to return the goodbyes we received from the other patrons. CJ and I waved to Arizona who shouted a 'goodnight' to us, and returned the waves from Matty, who was apparently being engaged in conversation by Hoss-- she seemed to multitask well since she was also busy handling drink orders from the Beagle brothers; Tadd and Olly who had just arrived back in town after their week at the mines.

I knew the way back to CJ's well enough at that point and the Rottweiler was content to just sit and look out the window. We were only a few blocks from the bar when he spoke up, "So... the Old Stevenson Place treating ya well? Seems like it's solid enough and plenty reliable... just in need of a little TLC."

I smiled as I thought about his description of the house and couldn't help but mutter under my breath, "Solid, reliable, and needing some TLC? Sounds like someone I know."

He glanced my way, ear closest to me raised, "Hmm? What's that?"

After two beers I'm not drunk... I'm barely even buzzed... but it DOES occasionally take me by surprise how often I say things aloud that I'm thinking-- that was one of those times. Thankfully my shrug was accepted and the Dog went back to looking out the window, "Well, assuming we do a little drinking with dinner you'll be staying at my place anyway."

I glanced at the Rottweiler out of the corner of my eye as I took the turn-off that led toward his house. "A 'little' drinking?"

He shrugged, "Well... a little for ME anyway... You might pass out... light-weight."

Letting out a theatrical 'hrumph' I pointed out in no uncertain terms, "I was pretty sure we already settled this... you can only drink more than me because you have me beat by at LEAST 80 pounds."

He kept on grinning, "Like I said-- you're a light-weight."

I rolled my eyes, turning down his driveway, "Prick."

CJ remained quiet for several seconds, a playful glint in his eye as his smile spread even wider. I saw the gears working in his head, but he responded with a relatively mild and very unoriginal comeback that must have been a lot funnier to him than it was to me. "Asshole."

Sighing, I pulled my car into the flattened area of gravel normally reserved for his truck, "Well, you're off to a good start with insulting your guest. Now all we need is to have garbage and hospital waste for dinner and this'll be one of the best visits I've had yet."

CJ laughed, climbing out of my car. He lingered long enough to grab the paper grocery bag out of the back seat and made his way to the door, "Yep... that's me: host of the year."

I gave him a shove, which he returned good-naturedly, and he opened the door and ushered me inside. Despite his great love of exchanging verbal taunts, the Rottweiler had obviously been in a great mood and, judging from the speed at which his little nub wagged back and forth, our vocal exchange had only improved it.

As we passed through the living room my subconscious led my eyes to the television and the coffee table; Dr. Stew was nowhere to be seen. Thinking back to the absurd situation was enough to bring my smile back-- CJ was a very dynamic friend, and in the short time I'd known him he had managed to get me to loosen up just a little bit too. At that point CJ beckoned me into the kitchen to join him as he began cooking up some steaks so I put the thoughts out of my mind.

We chatted casually about a little of everything from our respective weeks at work. Aside from both of us being busy there wasn't really much that stood out. From there we went further back in time; since he had revealed a little about his brother I took the opportunity to talk about some of the more personal things I hadn't divulged. I told him I was an only child and he laughed, mentioning that he could be the brother I never had; I rolled my eyes and continued. Life was full of school right up through college without really anything else on my mind until I met Elizabeth. When Liz came up in the conversation things slowed to a halt.

He looked up from the pan, "You okay?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "Yea... it's just-- I don't know. I guess I pictured her being in my life forever."

The Rottweiler offered a half-way convincing smile, "Well... the fact that she keeps calling means that maybe she's still picturing it herself."

I laughed despite myself; he'd attempted to lighten the mood and it worked. The words came out easier, and I was surprised at how good it felt to turn all of those inner thoughts into a real discussion, "I wanted more and she wanted convenience-- I'm pretty sure there isn't really anything else to be said."

CJ nodded, "It's really hard when you don't know what to expect out of a relationship."

Something about the sagely way he put it caught me off-guard but I was still too caught-up in my thoughts to give it much consideration, "We ended it-- or maybe I ended it... or she ended it... but I guess you could say it was mutual... except I want to move on and she still keeps calling to--"

"Gloat?"

Until that moment I hadn't realized just how right that sounded. Every time she called she was at a club or at some guy's house or on her way to a date. It really DID feel like she was gloating; she was living up life while she expected me to answer her every call and wait for her to speak with me like some kind of hopeless case. I leaned back against the counter, "Yea... I think that's pretty much what she's been doing."

He took a swig from his beer bottle and popped another, pouring a solid amount of it into the pan with the steak before adding a small scoop of a very powerful smelling collection of spices. "You haven't mentioned anything about her calling recently."

I had just straightened up from my place leaning against the counter when I froze; he was right! In fact, it had been weeks since I'd heard from her. My first inclination was to worry that something was wrong but a heartbeat later I smiled, "She hasn't!"

A broad smile split the Rottweiler's muzzle and he held up a beer, "Congrats."

It felt really good to accept the toast and I smiled at the sound of my bottle clinking against his, "Damn right!"

Dinner turned out to be fantastic; the beer barbeque sauce CJ had made was amazing, and he just laughed when I was ready to praise him for it. He admitted that it was actually his grandfather's creation and he was merely the one to inherit the family's secret recipe... but the real trick was in the beer and brown sugar. After dinner we retired to the living room where the big Dog motioned for me to take a seat on the couch while he retrieved his guitar from its place where it leaned against the wall.

CJ's music skill isn't something he shares with just anyone on a regular basis, but he's actually really good with a guitar... at least, when he's sober. With the several drinks he'd had at the bar and another set with dinner he wasn't exactly at his best but, once he started singing along it wasn't that easy to notice; he really DOES have a nice voice. I don't remember what song it was he played... probably because I'd had a few to drink by that point too but I do remember making a fool of myself when I made a suggestion. "You know... you should think about trying for one of those cable television singing contest things."

The big Rott just laughed, setting down the guitar, "Well... now I know that there's at least one person out there that listens worse than I play."

It was hard to tell whether he was being modest or didn't realize that he really DID have a talent. I punched him in the shoulder, "It's true! That was good!"

He rolled his eyes and headed toward the back hall, "Yea? Well that's probably just the beer talking. Speaking of which, I'm gonna go change... why don't you go get another for each of us from the fridge?"

I'd been so happy to have some time with my friend that it had completely slipped my mind that CJ had spent the entire evening in his work coveralls. I did a double-take, "Oh... yea. Sure! Go change."

He motioned to the kitchen, "I'll only be a minute. I expect a cold one waiting for me when I get back."

I rolled my eyes and stood up before I waved him off, "Yes sir. Right away, sir. Whatever you say, sir."

While the Dog was off in his room getting changed I went to the kitchen; sure, he hadn't exactly been the nicest about it, but that was most likely because he was already a little plastered... besides, I reasoned, I wanted another drink too. I beat him back to the living room by only a handful of seconds and when I saw him come back down the hallway I froze where I stood; CJ was returning with only a pair of red boxers on.

He smirked wryly, leaning against the wall, "Like what you see?"

"Huh?"

His confident grin continued as he strolled over to me and took one of the bottles from my hand, "You're staring."

I did a double-take, then quickly defended myself, "I was just surprised is all... Dogs don't usually wear underwear."

He chuckled, flopping down on the sofa before putting his bare feet up on the coffee table, "Yea... well if there's nothing on under it then it's not underwear, now is it?"

When you're just a little drunk you can manage to reason out any number of things and I had to admit that what CJ said did make sense. Shrugging, I sat down on the opposite side of the couch, "Fair enough-- but I wasn't staring."

The Rottweiler snickered at that and took a swig from his bottle, "Whatever you say, Derrek... s'not like it's a big deal if you were."

I cupped my beer in both hands as I looked down at it, not exactly sure how to respond to his casual approach to... well... everything. "Why do you even have boxers?"

He out-and-out laughed, "Because they're comfortable... duh. Soft cloth is a lot better than jeans for hangin' out around the house."

It was another comment that was difficult to argue against; I'd spent plenty of time in my college days hanging out around my apartment in nothing but an undershirt and underwear. "Yea... I guess so. A lot more comfortable than your coveralls too, I bet."

CJ shot me a booze-humored grin, "What about you, Monkey?"

"What about me?"

He glanced my way, smirk plastered firmly in place, "Are you more a boxer kinda guy, or briefs?"

I laughed at the personal question, "What about boxer-briefs?"

His silly smirk widened and he winked, "Or you could go all Dog.... free-ballin'."

I glanced his way as he downed another gulp of beer, "No thanks... I prefer underwear... never could handle commando style myself."

CJ rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, Derrek... there's something great about not having to cover up... do you even wear a swimsuit in the shower or something?"

I set my beer down, "There's a big difference between being a nudist and being a prude... lots of middle ground between 'em."

The Rottweiler shrugged, "Yea... whatever. Some of us just don't consider it such a big deal to show some fur."

To my surprise, right then and there CJ slid one paw down to the elastic band of his boxers and managed to wriggle his hips back and forth until he worked them down to his thighs, and then slipped completely out of them. In a matter of seconds I had a completely naked Rottweiler right next to me. Flashbacks of my previous trip to his house came back and I glanced for a moment toward the television; the last time we'd been together on the sofa--

His casual remark pulled my attention back to him. "See? No big deal."

CJ was once again lazing back on the sofa, feet having returned to the coffee table. He tilted his head back, polishing off the last of his beer-- a moment later he was standing. I sat further back against the sofa as he passed by me, sheath practically right in my face as he did so. "I'm gonna get another... you done with that one yet?"

I shook my head, pulling my bottle closer as if I'd expected him to reach out and finish it himself. "Nope... still working on it."

He smirked, reaching down to pat me on the head, "Heh... lightweight."

I stared at him as he walked off into the kitchen, eyes aimed to burn holes in him. Every now and again one of his little flippant remarks had the ability to rub me the wrong way... especially when I'd been drinking. Before I knew it I had the rest of my beer polished off and I was loosening my belt and kicking off my shoes. Lightweight? Prude? Who did he think he was dealing with? I was just as much of a free spirit as he was.

Yea... that line of thinking got us into ALL sorts of stuff that night... and it all started when CJ strolled back into the living room to find a completely naked Human reclining on his sofa without a care in the world.