Chapter Text
Some days Stiles was filled with warmth and love; some days Stiles wondered how this came to be his life.
How the fuck did he end up with such a ridiculous puppy?
He remembered the events, sure. His college friends Erica and Lydia had come to visit him for the weekend and they insisted - insisted! - on going to the animal shelter. "Just to play with the puppies!" they had said.
Three days later he was signing papers and taking home the world's smallest ball of fluff. Seriously, dogs were not supposed to come in sizes this small. At nine weeks old, she could actually curl up and fall asleep in his hand. It was fucked up. Even now, at eight months old, Twister weighed less than five pounds.
And she was a terror. Stiles was pretty sure that if he could figure out how she had so much energy on less than half a cup of kibble per day, he could solve the world's energy crisis. He got made fun of so much by his friends who said she was just like her owner - adorable and spastic. Luckily, Beacon Hills was a pretty small town, so it was easy for him to come home on his lunch hours to let her out and play with her a bit. Still, when he got home at the end of the day, Twister was so hyper he couldn't handle it. There was only one option: the dog park.
It was a nice park. The area was fenced in, although there were spots where he was pretty sure Twister could get under the fence, if she wanted. Thank heavens she wasn't an escape artist - given her monochromatic black coat and minuscule size, he'd never find her again if she didn't want to be found. He just kept an eye on her as she wandered around, occasionally playing with the other dogs, sometimes just bouncing back and forth between other dog owners.
At the beginning, Stiles had taken a book with him to the park. He had long since realized the futility of that, though, because people at the dog park always wanted to talk. Always. He had no idea what the real names of most of these people were but he knew them as 'Bilbo's owner' or 'Swarley's owner'. There was a whole dog park society, really. A core group of people that were there often, one-day-a-week folks, new people who he would probably never see again. All of them adored Twister - she would run up to each person as they entered and jump up on them - way less annoying than most dogs, since she could only reach halfway up most people's shins - until they laughed and ruffled her fur or maybe picked her up for a cuddle. She was a cuddle slut. Even with the gross guy who owned four beagles and always smelled like pee.
Everyone adored her; everyone except Wolf's owner. Wolf was awesome - he was a huge malamute mix who played rough with the big dogs and gently with the small ones and always brought balls back when people threw them for him to catch (unlike his own spoiled brat, who would carry the ball a third of the way back before she got bored.) Twist would run up to that guy with his stubble and leather jacket and his forbidding expression and jump her pathetic little heart out and he would always ignore her. Stiles thought the guy was clearly an asshole. I mean, Stiles himself was allowed to think Twist was a terrible dog - everyone else had to think she was perfect. Obviously.
And fine, maybe he was absurdly gorgeous, but he wouldn't talk to anyone. He just stood there in the corner for half an hour every afternoon, answering in monosyllables when anyone asked him a question about Wolf, and generally being surly and taciturn. Total breach of dog park etiquette.
To be fair, Stiles could see why he was a little reserved - it was kind of crazy how all the women tried to hit on him. Each one would usually take at least a week before giving up. Even Stiles knew how to take a hint better than that, and that's saying something.
But snubbing his dog was unforgivable, even if Stiles' subconscious didn't agree and regularly inserted him into his sexy dreams.
As it got colder, fewer people came to the dog park, unless it was a really sunny day. The regular crowd dwindled down to five or so people who showed up around five thirty. Stiles usually couldn't make it until almost six, and Wolf and his owner were the only other ones that stayed later, other than the beagle guy and the guy who always wanted to talk about crazy right-wing Fox News conspiracies.
The funniest thing was that Wolf and Twister were becoming best buddies. Twist wasn't a fan of playing rough, so she usually wasn't too interested in the big dogs, but Wolf always let her set the pace of play. There was something truly hysterical about seeing a ninety pound wolf-lookalike play with a five pound ball of fluff. Stiles had been filming them and uploading the videos to YouTube and they were getting tons of hits.
One afternoon, Stiles realized that when Swarley's owner left, he was going to be left alone with Beagle Guy, Fox News Guy and Sexy Stubble Guy. He contemplated leaving, but he knew that if Twister didn't get her playtime, she was going to be a pain in the ass all night. So he did the only thing he could think of - he went up to Sexy Stubble Guy.
"Hey, so, uh, pretend we're talking about something, okay?"
"What?" the man looked at him with scorn.
"Don't 'what?' me! You know exactly what. You heard him ranting about the godless Muslims last week. And you definitely know how beagle guy smells. If I don't look occupied, they're going to make me talk to them," Stiles hissed.
"You could just, you know, not talk to them," Wolf's owner replied.
"Yeah, I could be super rude and ignore all social niceties. Want to teach me? Twist! Stop rolling on that spot!" Damn it, now he was going to have to give her a bath when they got home. She was not much of a fan of baths.
"I know my dog's existence offends you, but you could help a guy out here. Have some compassion," Stiles asked again, seeing the two men approaching out of the corner of his eye.
"Her existence doesn't offend me. She's just... tiny."
"Gee, thanks, I hadn't noticed."
"I mean, does she even actually count as a dog?"
"Shut up. She's awesome. Wolf likes her, even if you don't."
Twist came running up to them then, having grown bored of exploring a very interesting patch of grass. As usual, she tried her best to get Sexy Stubble Guy's attention, to no avail.
"My god, just pet her already, will you? Your masculinity will remain intact, I promise."
"I'm very secure in my masculinity, thank you," the man replied with a haughty tone, and Stiles would have almost thought he was trying to be funny if he didn't know any better.
"I can see that," Stiles mumbled, without really meaning to.
The man raised an eyebrow at him, but then leaned down scratch Twister's head. She made little happy yipping noises. The man - miracle of miracles - smiled just a little bit at that.
One of the reasons Erica and Lydia had listed as to why he should get this particular puppy is that she'd be a total babe magnet. And Stiles definitely got tons of attention from everyone when he walked her in the mornings. Unfortunately, while it worked for girls (he had even gotten a girl's number last week), Twist was a repellant for the kind of guy he was usually into - big and manly and muscular. But it looked like even that type got worn down by her charms, eventually.
When Stiles left, having successfully avoided the crazy people for another night, the man even said goodbye to him.