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What Michael has dreaded has come to pass. Time for Robbo to meet his Mum. Thanks again to Comidacomida and my writing group for helping with editing. Check his stories out. After this of course.

Michael dumped the last of the boxes he was carrying onto Robbo's couch, the photo frames inside rattling. Robbo followed behind with Michael's suitcase full of his clothes. The dingo had insisted that Michael move in with him after the season finished, which was sooner for the Brumbies than they would have liked. They lost the qualifying game for the semi-finals.

The press went insane after Robbo's public confession of love, asking mainly about that during press conferences and very little about the game and the Pillagers' spear tackle. The offending Hooker was banned from playing in the next season. There was also an uptick of paparazzi trying to sneak into the hotel but after the possum they were easy to spot.

Robbo wheeled Michael's suitcase up behind the couch and hugged the kelpie from behind, resting his head on top of his. "You're officially moved in," Robbo rubbed his crotch against Michael's lower back, "Only one thing left to do..."

"I still need to unpack this box and put my clothes away," Michael said as he pulled away from Robbo and tossed his phone onto the couch.

"Aw, come on," begged the dingo and kissed the top of Michael's head and slowly made his way towards the kelpie's neck.

Michael brought a hand around and behind him to clamp the dingo's muzzle shut before he could bite down on his neck. "Buzzkill," said Robbo, his voice muffled by the russet furred hand.

"I have to unpack," Michael said, letting go of Robbo's muzzle and sitting on the couch, unpacking the photos. He sorted them on the coffee table, planning on where to put them. Robbo rolled the suitcase to his room, now their room, before he joined Michael on the couch.

One of the framed photos in the box caught Robbo's attention. A team photo of an Under Fourteens rugby league team, the Beenleigh Lions. His eyes quickly found the Right Wing of the team and saw a thirteen year old Michael in a crimson jersey beaming for the camera, standing a head taller than his teammates.

"You're so tall," Robbo noted, his head going back in surprise.

"Don't remind me," sighed Michael, looking at the picture, "I was an early bloomer. Mum was so sure that I was going to grow up to be tall, like six foot. Then everyone else started growing and I wasn't following them."

"Was she disappointed?" asked Robbo as he got up from the couch and put the photo in the TV cabinet next to the team photo of his first year with the Brumbies.

"No. She just started calling me her Little..." Michael cleared his throat and returned to the box, grabbed the last of the photos and set them on the coffee table to organise.

Robbo slowly turned to look at the kelpie, a smile crept onto his face, "Her Little whaaat?"

Michael quickly shot up to his feet and gibbered, "I'mgonnaputmyclothesaway."

He vaulted the couch and darted to their room; Robbo chuckled as he started finding places to put the photos. Michael dumped the clothes from his suitcase onto the bed and refolded those that became unfolded. With a small bundle of shirts in his hand he opened a drawer to put them away and sighed when he saw the contents. It was a mess, the drawers were stuffed with haphazardly thrown in shirts. He opened the shorts drawer and immediately closed it. They were even worse.

He put his clothes on top of the drawers, grabbed the shirts in his arms and dropped them onto the bed. He was a quarter of the way into folding the shorts when he heard his phone ringing in the lounge room. It was his mother's ringtone.

Since Robbo's public stunt his mother had been calling and texting him non-stop asking about him and Robbo. Why didn't he tell her? How long have they been a thing? The dingo didn't steal him from someone else? That last question made him hang up and ignore her for the past few days. He was content to keep it that way for a few more days until he heard the last thing he wanted to.

"Hello? No, I'm Robert. Yes, that one."

Michael sprinted into the lounge room, vaulted over one edge of the corner couch and tackled Robbo. Although he was never that good at playing rugby, Michael had learned enough of the basics to be able to tackle the larger dingo laughing into the couch and send the phone bouncing onto the far end.

Michael scrambled over Robbo for the phone and grabbed it with a loud "AHA!"

Michael constantly slapped away Robbo's attempts to take the phone and kept him at arms distance, "Hey, Mum. Can't talk we're still unpa-" He was cut off with a yelp as Robbo yanked him down the couch by his tail and snatched the phone from his hand. His breath was knocked out of him when Robbo laid on top of him.

"Ack, get the fuck off me," he wheezed, squirming underneath the large dingo and awkwardly reached behind him for the phone. Robbo ignored him, easily dodging Michael's hands and continued the conversation on the phone.

"Sorry about that, Ma'am. Your son's being difficult."

Michael twisted his head around as best he could to look at Robbo when he called his mum 'Ma'am'. Robbo's ears pinned back in embarrassment and he blushed under his fur, telling the phone "Yeah, my mum raised me to be." It seemed his Mum asked the same thing.

"Well, Mikey," he enunciated Michael's name with a teasing smile. Michael avoided his eyes, "doesn't seem to want us chatting for some reason. He tackled me to try and get the phone."

"No, it wasn't," he lowered his head down to Michael's and said with a mocking pout, "Was it, Mikey?"

Michael cringed underneath Robbo as he heard his mother's witch-like laugh from the phone. It was worse than he imagined. They were getting along great. He whimpered under his breath, "Please stop."

Robbo nodded to the kelpie and said to the phone, "Okay, I should go. I still have a couple of Bluey's boxes to help unpack."

Michael looked at the few pictures remaining on the coffee table. His pictures and clothes were the last things that needed unpacking and those were almost done.

Robbo put his hand over the phone and moved to the side slightly to allow Michael to breathe easier and asked him, "You Mum wants to meet for lunch tomorrow, that alright?" Michael nodded.

He uncovered the phone and said with a smile, "Yeah that's good. We have a couple months of downtime before practice starts again. There's a nice steakhouse a couple blocks away from here. My treat."

Robbo blushed again, "Please, call me Robbo."

Robbo shifted his weight back on top of Michael making the kelpie squirm and complain before he gave up with a huff. Robbo grinned into the phone, "Before you hang up, Angela. I just remembered something."

Michael realised what Robbo wanted to ask and renewed his struggle, forcing the dingo on top of him to brace himself. Michael yelled out, "Don't ans-hrmph!" Robbo cut him off with a hand around his muzzle.

"It's nothing." Robbo said brushing off the question he was asked, "We were unpacking some pictures before and I found his Under Fourteens team photo."

Michael struggled under the dingo and tried to pull the hand off his muzzle. He thought back to before when he did that same to Robbo and why. He stopped struggling and started rubbing his rear against the dingo and slowly licked between his fingers. He looked up at the dingo in a silent beg.

Robbo saw the display and said to Michael's mum, "Just a moment," he tapped the kelpie on the nose while keeping his muzzle closed, "Nice try. But it won't work." Michael stopped and pulled his tongue back in, snorting into the hand.

Robbo returned to the phone, "But yeah, we started talking but he wouldn't tell me what you called him. Your Little Something."

Michael stuffed his face into the couch cushion when he heard his mum's cackle on the phone and stuffed his face even further when Robbo joined in, "Thank you for that, Angela. I should go. Your Little Lion is trying to smother himself. Say goodbye, My Little Lion." He held the phone to Michael's ear.and let go of his muzzle.

"Bye, Mikey." Michael could hear the shit eating grin in the old kelpie's voice.

He pulled his face out of the cushion and grumbled, "Bye, Mum."

Robbo hung up and tossed Michael's phone back onto the far end of the couch. He rolled to his side and hugged the kelpie tight against his chest. Michael mumbled, "Never call me that."

"Why not?" pouted Robbo, "I think it's adorable."

"Because I hate it," whined Michael as he tried to squirm out of the hug before he gave up and settled into the hug with a grumble.

"Alright, fine," Robbo said and loosened his grip on Michael, holding a hand up in defeat. "I won't call you that in front of the guys."

"I don't want you calling me that at all," grumbled Michael, elbowing the dingo in the ribs.

Robbo ignored him and continued, "I lied by the way."

Michael shifted on the couch to look over at Robbo, "About what?"

Robbo leaned down and whispered huskily into Michael's ear, "It did work. Now let's make you roar."

Michael put his hands against Robbo's face to keep his head away but he powered through and dived to the kelpie's neck. He tried to keep a grasp on his grumpiness but the dingo's teasing nibbles chewed away at his grip until he giggled out, "Stop! Stop it!" all the while baring his neck out more.

***

The next day Robbo and Michael left the apartment for lunch. Robbo left before lunch time to reserve a table at the steakhouse and Michael left a couple hours earlier than Robbo to pick up his mother. He walked into the steakhouse with his mother and waited in line for the receptionist.

"You didn't need to dress up for this you know," he said as he looked at his mother. She was the same height as Michael and was wearing a sequined black blouse with a long, grey shin length skirt.

"I'm meeting your partner for the first time. I need to look good for it," said the greying kelpie. Michael went to correct her but she cut him off, "No, he's not your boyfriend. You live together now. That makes him your partner."

"I'm not sure that's the definition," Michael said as they moved up the queue. His mum ignored him and continued, "And seeing you moved in together, in around a year, I expect one of you the pop The Que-"

Michael quickly moved up to the front desk to change the subject and asked the receptionist, "We have a reservation for three. Robert Campbell and Michael and Angela Wilson." A waiter guided them to a booth where Robbo sat fiddling on his phone. He looked up and saw them approaching and got up. He let Angela and Michael sit down before sitting back down himself.

As Robbo slid into the booth, next to Michael, Angela spoke up and asked him, "I was going to ask if he's treating you right but you seem to have snagged a gentleman."

"He's anything but," quipped Michael as he grabbed a menu and looked through it.

Robbo said with a mischievous smile, "Yeah, a gentleman would warn someone about getting hazed on their first day and give them a place to crash when they're black out drunk."

"Black out drunk?" Angela asked, looking up from the menu and at her son with disapproval.

Robbo slid in to his defence, "To be fair, how were we supposed to know that he'll black out so easily?"

She set the menu down and drummed her fingers on the table, "How many times has this happened?"

"Only twice," said Michael and Robbo added, "And we know his limit now."

"What's his limit?" she asked.

"Seven," lied Michael.

"What's the actual limit?" Angela asked Robbo.

"Three," stated Robbo while Michael scrunched his face.

"Mikey..." clucked Angela, looking at her son with pity.

"Mum..." Michael mocked back, mimicking her tone. Robbo flicked his ear as a waitress arrived.

"Are you three ready to make your orders?" asked the cheery numbat waitress.

Rubbing his ear Michael answered, "Yes please. I'll have the uh..." He looked at the menu.

Robbo leant over and looked at the part of the menu Michael was looking at, "I'm paying. You don't need to look at the ten dollar budget menu."

Michael snorted, "I know. I'm not looking at the ten dollar lunches because they're cheap. I like their ceasar wraps."

Robbo leant back and looked at his own menu, "Uhuh, sure. I'll get the hickory smoked prime rib steak with the creamy mushroom sauce and sweet potato wedges and caesar salad for sides." Michael licked his lips and slowly flipped the page to the steak menu and ordered the same but with fries instead of wedges. His mother ordered a beef wrap and fries.

Robbo and Angela spent lunch tag-teaming Michael who slumped in the chair and took the hits. Robbo teased Michael by telling Angela how cute he thought Michael's hiccoughs were and implied how suggestible he'd get with his neck. Michael's face burned and he slapped the dingo on the arm. Angela let out a cackle.

"If I knew grabbing him by the neck would get him to do what I'd want. His room wouldn't have been such a fucking pig sty as a pup."

"He was a messy pup?" Robbo asked, surprised. "He's so organised though. He went and folded all my clothes yesterday without me having to ask."

Angela's brow furrowed in disbelief. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn't find the words only asking "What?". She looked over at Michael and repeated "What?"

Michael avoided her eyes and stared into his cola, "I formed the habit because of work."

Angela shook her head, "It took working around a bunch of muscular blokes to get you to pull your finger out. I feel like I should be shocked. But I'm not."

Michael cringed and swallowed the last of his drink. He desperately wanted to change the subject but he didn't know how to without his mother twisting it back on him. His mum changed it for him when she asked, "So who asked who out first?"

"I did," said Robbo, "I asked him out when he was washing the jerseys."

"Romantic," scoffed Angela.

"It's not the full story," said Michael, seeing an opportunity to get out of his mum's firing line, "His friends found out that he thought I was cute and told him to ask me out but he was too shy."

"Really?" asked Angela, a smile growing on her face. Michael relaxed. Success.

Robbo gave Michael a small, begging shake of his head. Michael continued, "He liked me since I started. It's the only reason he warned me about the hazing. It took them locking him in the laundry with me for him to finally ask. He was so nervous."

Angela let out a cackle and cooed, "Such a big guy being so shy. That's adorable."

Michael poked Robbo in the ribs and said in obnoxious puppy talk, "He's a gweat big softy."

Robbo forced out a laugh and gripped Michael's shoulder. Michael tensed under the firm grip and as Robbo leaned in and whispered a mock threat in his ear, "I'm not gonna be a softy with you tonight." Michael cleared his throat as he felt a twitch in his pants. He shuffled in the seat and tipped the ice from his glass in his mouth and sucked it.

Robbo smirked at Michael's discomfort and, keeping Michael close, told Angela, "The team's going to the pub next month for my birthday next month. They'd love to hear about everything Michael did as a pup."

Michael tensed and mentally chided himself, he'd forgotten to get something for his birthday. Robbo noticed his tensing, "Something wrong?"

Michael rubbed his temple and lied, "Brainfreeze."

Angela's eyes flicked between the two and spoke up, "Oh, look at the time I should probably get going. I have some chores I want to get done before night time."

Robbo nodded and got up to pay at the register, Michael and Angela followed behind. Angela tapped Michael on the arm and pointed out the door, "Go wait in the car. I'm gonna give your future husb-." Michael walked away before she could finish.

He sat in his car, drumming his fingers on the wheel, waiting when his Mum and Robbo finally walked out of the steakhouse. Robbo looked down at the greying kelpie, nervously shuffling from foot to foot as she gave him the 'Don't break his heart' rigmarole. It would've been comical to Michael at how his mother was somehow able to talk down to the taller dingo if he didn't know that she'd more than likely follow through with the threats she was giving him. She beckoned him to lean down and gave him a hug, He returned the hug with an awkward pat on the back. Breaking the hug she gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked to Michael's car.

She got in on the passenger's side with a smile, like she didn't just spend the past few minutes intimidating his partner. "Need help looking for a present for him?" she asked.

"Please," he begged.