The Dog Show
"Quit that," he hissed at the bouncing dog in front of him. Of course, that's exactly what the dog didn't do. She was excited. He was nervous, so she got more excited. Jim was having an awful time getting her to settle down and pay attention to him. How was he going to win with the dog -- and himself -- acting up like this? "Will you settle down?" He turned her in a little circle, trying to get her to let off some steam and remember her ring manners.
"Can I touch her," came the question from outside his narrow focus. "No. She's too excited and we're going into the ring." He didn't even look at the person speaking, his focus all on his little dog, willing her to pay attention to him. Of course, she didn't pay any attention. In fact, she ran right between his legs at whoever was behind him. He scrambled over the leash, trying not to get tangled up. It wasn't that he was so worried about falling over -- though that would be pretty embarrassing -- as it was that he didn't want to scare her and just make things even worse. His turned around and there she was, making a huge fuss over this guy kneeling on the ground. She was up in his lap and giving him little kisses -- and he seemed to love it.
"I'm sorry, she doesn't usually do that. I don't know what's gotten into her."
"It's OK. I really like dogs, and she's just gorgeous." He looked up and the most amazing pair of blue eyes looked into his. He froze for an instant, not knowing what to say or do. It was the most shockingly intimate look -- and here he was, ready to go into the ring. He was embarrassed, shocked, titillated, touched, all at the same time. He felt a yearning begin to rise from deep in his guts and he felt his body begin to react.
"Number 1022. Bitch 1022 into the ring, please," said the ring steward, looking pointedly at him. He quickly checked his armband. Yes, that was him. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He quickly pulled his dog away and ran into the ring, all his focus back on her and the judge. A quick snap of the leash and she was looking at him again. He set her up, her left side to the judge, her head cocked, looking up at him. He reached into his pocket for a piece of sausage to get her attention firmly focused on him. She wagged her tail, looking at his hand in the pocket.
"Take them once around, please. Then put the first dog on the table," the judge instructed the whole class. And they were off, running around the ring. He watched her carefully, making sure that she ran at her best pace, leaving room in front of him so that the judge would pay attention to her. They came to the end and stopped. The first dog was placed on the table. He paid attention to the judge's ring procedure, knowing that he was up next. He watched the other dogs, noting their strengths and was relieved that his girl was going to put on a good show against them -- at least she would if she paid attention.
The judge motioned him to put her up on the table. He got her up there, set her up four-square, watching him, her ears up, looking beautiful. The judge came over, "Show me her bite, please." He carefully lifted her lips so that the judge could see her teeth. She was good about this; not all the dogs were, some seemed to fight it all the time, no matter how experienced they were. The judge looked at her head; she smiled up at him, wagging her tail a little. "Well, sweetheart, aren't you the pretty one?" The judge moved his hands carefully over her body, feeling for her shoulders, moving his hands along her ribs and over her rear, letting his hands tell him what was underneath the hair, checking her muscles for conditioning, her coat for texture. Finally, he said, "Thank you; take her down and back, please," wagging his finger towards the corner of the ring and back.
He put her on the ground, adjusted her collar and said, "Let's go." She took off down the mat, moving flawlessly towards the corner. In the corner, he called her and she quickly turned around, he looked at the judge to straighten himself out; they came flying back up the mat. He stopped, expecting her to look at him, but she didn't. Instead she looked at something outside the ring. It was that young man with the blue eyes. She focused on him as if she had known him all her life; as if he was her beloved owner. He quickly took advantage of this and moved back from her, letting her stand there on a loose lead, naturally looking just gorgeous. The judge smiled a little, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards for just a second. "Take her around, please." The judge moved his hand in a little circle. They took off. She was moving with gorgeous coordination, every step going in exactly the right place. At the end, he again took advantage of her interest in the young man (hell, he was interested in the young man, too), and let her pose herself. The judge took a good, long look at her, and then went on to the next dog in line.
"What was going on here?" he thought to himself. "Who was this young man, and why was his dog so fixated on him?" He kept working with her, letting her set herself up as she looked outside the ring. He didn't have to do anything else. Everyone else was kneeling, moving feet into place, playing with bait in front of their dogs' noses, trying everything they knew to get their dogs to look really good. They all knew that he and his dog were now the competition.
The judge went back to the middle of the ring, "Take them around again, please." He watched each dog in turn and then pointed, "One, two, three, four; thank you, all." He had won! He was ecstatic. She had pulled it off. This finished her championship with a huge five point win at the National Specialty. Yes! He could hardly contain himself, now, on to Best of Breed. They came out of the ring and he shook hands as people congratulated him. She was pulling him hard in one direction. When he looked at her, he knew who she was trying to get. So he let her pull him over to the blue-eyed young man. When they got there, she threw herself at him.
"She's just gorgeous. Did you see how she showed? What a beauty she is!" The young man kept going on, his hands patting the little dog and stroking her. She calmed beneath his hands, obviously thrilled to be with him. "I'm sorry. I don't know your name. Obviously she thinks she knows you, but I don't think we've met before. I'm ..."
"Oh," laughed the young man, "I know who you are. Doesn't everyone? I'm John." He held his hand up from the floor where he was still stroking the little dog. They shook hands, completing the ritual properly, and yet, it was different. There was a connection there -- an inexplicable connection between two strangers. "Hi, John, I'm glad to meet you, and she is very glad to see you. I don't know how to say this, but would you kind of stick around. She's showing so well with you here, I just don't want to jinx anything."
"Sure." And it was settled, the blue-eyed young man, John, would stick around. Maybe after everything was finished, they could get to know each other better; maybe.
The ring steward called again, "Specials in the ring, please, then the winners dog and winners bitch." He turned around, and got ready to go back into the ring with his little girl. She gave John a little kiss, and then turned towards him, all attention now. She was acting so strangely, he just didn't understand it -- but what the hell, he would take it. They went into the ring at the end of the line. Not a bad place to be, it would allow them to rest a little from the earlier competition. The judge had to look at them because they had gone winners bitch, so they wouldn't get forgotten in the mess of all those champions.
The judge went over each dog methodically, one by one, using exactly the same ring procedure as he had done earlier. Then he began to make his cuts, going down the line of dogs and pointing out the ones he wanted to keep. He chose five males and four females, plus the winners dog and winners bitch. Now it got tough. He would have to work hard to make sure the judge saw them. Once again, the judge asked them each to move around the ring. His girl flew around the ring. He barely needed to give her any instruction. She knew what to do -- and she was on tonight. Every piece of her glowed, she stood on her toes, giving it her all. The judge went down the row again. He let her stand there, looking at John outside the ring. He sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving for John's presence, whoever he was. The judge asked him to come out the middle of the ring; he then picked a male and put the male behind him. It couldn't be! Was he going to give him Best of Breed? The judge motioned the other dogs to fall in behind the two he had picked and then motioned them around the ring again. They ran around the ring, all the dogs showing off for the judge. He stopped them and then gave everyone a last, long look. The judge went back to the middle of the ring and then pointed, "Best of Breed and Best of Winners to the bitch..." He didn't hear anything else. He had won! The single most important dog show of the year for his breed, and he had won!
He scooped her up in his arms, laughing and crying all at the same time. They accepted the ribbon and the congratulations, and then they were outside the ring, everyone still clapping them on the back. John was there, his eyes smiling and laughing, such support in them that he was overwhelmed. He threw his arms around John and then kissed him. What an amazingly sweet kiss. Oh my god, he had just kissed him. He didn't even know him and he had just kissed him. He drew back hesitantly, and then felt John's arms tightening around him. "It's OK," John whispered against his cheek, "I felt it, too." And then John kissed him back and let him go. He drew back again, and looked John in the eyes, swallowed up by their incredible blueness, and then, suddenly, gasped out loud, as if hit in the stomach. "What have I done? Oh my god, what have I done?" He had just come out publically in front of two hundred of his friends and enemies.
John looked at him, concern written across his face, "Are you OK? What's wrong?" What could he say, how could he respond. He didn't know if he was OK. He didn't know what to do. He just didn't know. He began to breathe harshly, his vision narrowed and blurred; everything seemed to spin around him. He staggered a bit. He was having a panic attack.
"Let him sit down. He's overwhelmed. Someone, get him a chair," a voice called out. He found himself sitting at ringside in a chair. Someone gave him a drink. He gulped it down only to start sputtering and coughing; the vodka burned all the way down. "Well, that worked," he thought to himself. His mind began to clear, at least a little bit. He found that John was holding the dog's leash, thank god. He started to get up and found that he was still a bit woozy. John took his arm and supported him. One of his other friends helped him on the other side. He caught a quizzical look across at John; he'd always been pretty private before this.
"Where's your set up?"
"It's over there by the pillar."
"OK. Let's get you over there. Congratulations, by the way. What a great win, and you deserved it; she was just gorgeous."
They walked over to the set up; every step seemed a little steadier. When they got there, he thanked his friend profusely, took the dog back from John and got her put away in her crate. The normal tasks of a dog show took over. He got water for each of the dogs, pulled out their bowls and fed them. Then he turned to start getting out leashes to walk them. He realized that John was right there; he'd helped water and feed the dogs, and obviously he was ready to help exercise them. It was if he knew all the things to do, as if he had worked as a handler's assistant somewhere before. He look at John, not knowing what to say, still confused by the suddenness of it all and by the very public declaration of his private life. John looked back, that steady oh-so-blue gaze locked with his own. "It's OK. We'll talk later. Just let me help you with the dogs right now. You need the help." He nodded once and began taking dogs out in pairs. John reached in the crates and started putting collars and leads on dogs and walking out with him. He was amazed at how well the dogs were behaving. They seemed to respond to John as if they had known him all their lives. He couldn't believe it. "Watch out for those two males, they don't like each other much."
They walked outside with the four dogs, together. Each of them watched their dogs, making sure they did their business and noting where they did it for later clean up. When they were finished they walked them back in and took the next four out together. In no time at all they had finished the nightly jobs, working together as if they had been doing it for years. Every now and then they slid their eyes over at each other, smiling when they caught each other looking. He couldn't help it; he felt good, really, really good. He should be terrified about what people would say. He'd spent years hiding from others, keeping his private life private, erecting high walls to keep others out. But he felt good, almost liberated.
He turned to John, "You know I should go to the banquet tonight...but ..." His voice trailed off.
"OK. I have a ticket. Can I sit with you?"
"Yes, absolutely yes. I was going to skip it if you didn't have a ticket." They smiled at each other.
"Good. I need to go back to the hotel and change."
"Oh...um...I'm staying here in my trailer."
"I know. Want to come back with me?"
He looked at John for a long time and made a decision. "Yes."
They turned back to the set up, cleaned up, went out and picked up after the dogs. "Let me get my stuff from the trailer." John walked over with him, waited and then came up the steps and into the trailer when invited with a raised eyebrow and a look. John stopped just inside the door, letting it bang against his butt as it closed, looking around, noting the neatness even after nearly a week at the show and who knows how long on the road before that. Everything seemed to have a place. John followed him into the back, reaching out to touch him. He turned in the cramped space and pulled John to him. They hugged, communicating so much to each other with that touch. They kissed, tentatively at first and then with growing need, their bodies pressing against each other, hands roaming over backs, butts, reaching up to touch faces, hair, stroking each other's cheeks as their groins ground into each other. "Whoa! If we keep going like this, we're not going to make it to the banquet."
John laughed, "Would that be so bad?"
"No. But if we're going to go, we need to stop. If we're not going to go, then ..." and he pressed himself more firmly into John, his hand pulling John's ass forward. He knew he felt very strongly about John, and it had been a long time, but he also knew he was confused about what was going on. It was happening so fast.
John seemed able to read his mind, "Want to slow down? It's OK. I think we're going to have a long time to get to know each other." He looked at John, startled by that thought, and yet knowing deep inside himself that it was true. What was going on? He'd never felt this way before. John laughed into his mouth as he kissed him again. "Hey, we've got time. Let's go back to the hotel and the banquet." It was disconcerting to have someone read him so easily.
He got clothes from the tiny closet and followed John out. Without anything being said they walked over to John's car. John drove them to the hotel and they went upstairs to his room. They went in and John got out his clothes for the banquet. John looked at him and smiled, almost laughing, his head tilted to one side, "Are you going to come and shower with me?"
He groaned, the image of the two of them in the shower flashing before his eyes. "Oh yes." They moved towards each other, slowly shedding clothes. He carefully folded his clothes and put them neatly on the chair. John looked over at him and smiled. John took his clothes off slowly, teasingly, doing a shameless strip tease for him, a dance with only the music in their hearts playing. His cock sprang to attention; John danced over, grinding his tightey-whitey covered groin against him in a silent bump and grind, letting his fingers tickle his nipples and then trailing down over his stomach to begin tracing his treasure trail until he finally grasped the hard cock in his hand, giving it a couple of tugs. "Come with me," and John danced away, letting his taut little ass dimple with his exaggerated movements. His eyes followed it, and then his feet took him into the bathroom. He caught John as he turned on the shower, running his hands over his back, tracing each muscle as his hands went down to cup that delicious ass. He molded his body to John's back as his hands went around to the front and his palms rubbed gently against John's nipples. One hand caressed John's six-pack, feeling his hard, sculpted muscles, the other went down and cupped his groin, feeling the hard length of him straining to get out of its white confinement. He slipped his hand back up and inside the waistband and immediately felt his stickiness, stroking downwards to fondle his balls, gently rolling them in his hand. His other hand slipped inside to curve over the hard roundness of John's ass, and he leaned forward to gently suck John's neck. He slip down to his knees, his hands gently rolling the briefs down John's legs, and he leaned forward and kissed that perfect butt, inhaling the aroma that was uniquely John. He slipped the briefs off John's feet, one at a time, and gently turned him around. He leaned forward, breathing in the musk as he rubbed his nose in John's groin, burying himself in all the hair, letting his tongue flick out to lick and taste. John groaned pushing himself forward, letting his hands curl into his hair, caressing his head and letting his fingers trace the curves of his face. John slowly pulled him to his feet, tugging on the hair as he resisted. Their bodies pressed against each other, they kissed deeply. John pulled back, "Let's shower now. We'll come back to this later." John leaned into him, kissing, pulling him into him so hard it was as if they were trying to meld their bodies into one. And then he let go, moved away and opened the shower door. "Come in. The water's warm." He laughed, a deep, joyous laugh, all the worries of his life gone for that instant, reveling in the moment and the joy.
They showered together, washing each other's hair, cleaning each other's backs, taking intimacies with the secret places of each other's bodies. They dried each other carefully, using the hotel towels to make love to each other. It wasn't sex, but it was love. And then they dressed, smiling at each other as they did, and went downstairs to the banquet, knowing that there was more, much more, to come.
They went to the elevator, both looking pretty good in their dress-up clothes. As they waited, he turned to John, "What's your name? I'm going to have to introduce you people and I think I need to know your last name." John smiled. You could tell that he was considering several different responses. "Don't want to just let them think you picked me up at ringside?"
"Well, I did, didn't I?" he laughed right back at John.
"Oh? I thought I picked you up."
They both laughed. "It's Hunter, John Hunter." They looked at each other. "Well, John Hunter, it's good to meet you." They shook hands. The elevator arrived and they stepped in, beside the other couple already inside. (He was amazed that he was already thinking of them as a couple.) At the banquet floor they all got off together and began to mingle with the crowd.
"John, oh John," a voice called out from the crowd, a hand waving in the air. "John, I'm over here." A large woman, wearing far too much of everything, sailed over to them. "I didn't know you two knew each other. Where did you meet? Oh, you must tell me everything." She leered at both of them, obviously dying to know "everything."
"Marjorie, how nice to see you again," he said, groaning inwardly at having to talk with her. He knew her reputation for gossip and had avoided her for many years. "How is your old stud dog doing?" (Not that he cared, but anything to get her off this topic, about which he cared a great deal.)
And she was off, regaling him with all the details, far more than he ever wanted to know, about her old stud dog and his latest champion offspring. They both listened politely, putting in an appropriate "hmm" to keep her going, hoping that someone would rescue them or that they would find some way to escape.
An attractive, older woman came over to them, interrupted and carefully stole them away. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. I don't know that I could have listened to another boast from her about her dogs. Aaargh! You've always been such a friend when I needed one." His patience had quite worn thin.
"Are you going to introduce me to this delicious young man?" she asked.
"What? Oh, yes. Helen, this is John, John Hunter, a, er, friend of mine."
She laughed out loud. "Oh, Jim, we all saw just how much of a `friend' of yours he is."
Jim blushed furiously, at a loss for words. John leaned in. "Helen, I'm pleased to meet you. I'm pretty new to the breed, but of course I've heard of both you and your dogs. You have quite a reputation."
"John, after what we just saw between the two of you, it's not my reputation people will be talking about." She laughed again. "OK, Jim, I'll stop. You can stop squirming now. John, you've caught yourself quite a man. I've known him for years and never really knew much about his private life. Enough of that, now, both of you come over to my table and join us." And with that they found themselves swept up; they followed in her wake as she cut her way right through the crowd and then settled them at her table, up near the front.
The rest of the evening went reasonably well, lots of people coming over, congratulating Jim on his big win, and hinting broadly that they would like to meet John. He could tell that people wanted to know more. He had been so obviously private and reserved for so long with everyone that they were all surprised -- well, so was he -- and they were curious. He accepted the compliments, introduced John to his friends and many, many acquaintances, and tried to relax. At the end of the meal, the awards for the year were handed out and he found himself embarrassed again as he went up to pick them up. It had been a really good year at the dog shows.
The after-dinner band came in and started playing dance music. Various couples got up and started dancing. He watched, noticing that some of the couples were same-sex. "Do you want to dance?" asked John, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "What the hell, I've pretty much blown my cover, haven't I? Yes, I want to dance with you." They got up and moved onto the dance floor. It had been so long since he had danced with anyone he really cared about. The leaned against each other; fitting in as if they had been dancing together for years, moving with the rhythms and sliding against each other as they glided over the floor. He noticed that he was getting aroused as he moved with John. The music stopped and they went back to the table as the band started another song. Helen leaned over, "You look good together. Jim, you're smiling more than I've seen in years."
He looked at her, and then John. He smiled. She was right, he was smiling more and the reason was sitting beside him. He lifted an eyebrow, and John smiled right back. "Helen, I think I'd better get back to the dogs and exercise them for the night. Thanks for inviting us to sit with you. You've been a godsend." He leaned over and gave her a hug and kiss. It was her turn to blush. "Good night, guys," and she winked at both of them. He felt himself blushing again.
They left together, going back up to the room to change out of their good clothes. Then they went back down to the car and drove over to the show site, not saying much but holding hands during the drive. Once there they both pitched in, walking each of the dogs, playing with the younger dogs so that they would be tired, and then putting them up for the night. They started taking down the set up, folding up the grooming tables, sweeping up around the site, packing up the equipment boxes and getting ready for leaving tomorrow.
Then they went back to the trailer. At the door, he turned to John and held out his hand. "Are you coming in?" John took his hand and pulled him close. He kissed Jim firmly, mouth pushing against mouth, hands pulling him close. "Yes. And I'm staying the night, too."
Jim pushed against his chest and looked into his eyes, his oh-so-blue eyes. "This isn't a one-night stand, is it? I want more than that. And I want it with you."
"Are you proposing to me, on the strength on one day?" John was grinning, laughter filling his voice.
Jim froze, shocked by the question and even more shocked by his gut response. "Yes. I'm proposing to you. I don't know you, I don't know what you do or where you live or where you come from. But it doesn't matter. Yes, will you be my partner?"
Now it was John's turn to hold still. There they were, simultaneously holding each other and pulled back from each other. John looked deep into his eyes, a shudder ran through his body, and he leaned forward, kissing Jim with every ounce of tenderness in his body, trying to tell him with his kiss just what he was feeling inside. "Yes," he breathed into Jim's mouth, "Oh, yes."
Jim pulled away and opened the door to the trailer. "Aren't I supposed to carry you over the threshold now?" They both laughed aloud, joy filling their voices, and went into the trailer to celebrate their wedding night.