Part 5

The silence in Petey's lair remained unbroken, barely interrupted by the soft sound of Dogman's calm breathing. Petey stayed still, unsure of what to do with the dog's head still resting on his lap. He kept telling himself that this was nothing, just an awkward situation with no greater meaning, but the warmth and light weight of Dogman against him made him think otherwise.

He tried not to move too much. He could feel the dog's warmth through the fabric of his suit, the steady rhythm of his breath that, in some way, started to affect him. He observed Dogman's relaxed face, his ears twitching slightly with each involuntary movement. Petey didn't understand how he could sleep so deeply in his lair, in his personal space. It was as if Dogman had not the slightest bit of fear or distrust toward him, which was ridiculous.

"He's just a dog... just a dog who has no idea what he's doing," Petey thought, trying to convince himself. But the warmth on his lap kept him grounded in the reality of the situation.

However, the calm didn't last long.

Dogman shifted a little, mumbling something unintelligible in his sleep. Petey felt a shiver run down his spine as the dog snuggled a bit closer, as if unconsciously seeking more comfort. His tail wagged gently, reflecting serene happiness. Petey, with his eyes wide open and muscles tensed, remained frozen.

Before he could decide what to do, Dogman let out a small noise and cracked his eyes open. They stayed like that for a second, looking at each other, still too sleepy to process the situation. Then, Dogman blinked several times, his expression changing from calm to completely dazed.

A second later, he jumped as if he had been electrocuted.

He let out a soft bark of surprise and put his paws to his head, looking at Petey with wide eyes.

Petey, for his part, tried to keep his composure, although part of him enjoyed the dog's reaction. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Relax, nothing happened," he said in a carefree tone, though the blush creeping up his ears betrayed him a little.

Dogman blinked rapidly, clearly trying to remember how the hell he had ended up in that position. His gaze swept across the messy lair, then back to Petey, and finally down to his own paws, as if hoping to find an answer in them.

Finally, he lifted his front paws and began waving them quickly and nervously, as if trying to communicate in sign language.

"What happened? Why was I sleeping on you? I'm sorry!"

Petey clicked his tongue and gave him an amused look.

"Oh, I know how," he said with a teasing smile. "You came in all anxious, insisted on entering, collapsed on my couch, and to top it off, used me as a pillow. Wow, Dogman, if you wanted to cuddle, you just had to ask."

Dogman opened his mouth as if to bark in his defense, but instead waved his paws in the air again, with the clumsy and desperate movements of someone trying to explain themselves quickly.

"It wasn't intentional! I was just tired and... and..."

Petey chuckled softly.

"Uh-huh, sure. Tell me, was it also unintentional that you started wagging your tail like a happy puppy?"

Dogman went as stiff as a board. He slowly turned his head, as if hoping his tail would deny Petey's claim... but there it was, still wagging gently, completely betraying him.

Dogman let out an embarrassed groan and covered his face with his paws.

Petey crossed his arms and smiled with satisfaction.

—It's not my fault you're so easy to tease.

Dogman collapsed onto his back on the couch with a pitiful whine. His paws made a couple of flailing movements in the air before falling to his sides, defeated. Petey looked at him with some amusement, but also with a feeling he wasn't sure how to name.

There was something strangely genuine in the way Dogman reacted. He wasn't afraid to show vulnerability, to be clumsy, to feel embarrassed. Petey, on the other hand, had spent years building walls to keep anyone from affecting him. Maybe that's why it was so disconcerting that Dogman simply... trusted him enough to fall asleep next to him without hesitation.

A silence settled between them for a moment. Dogman still seemed to be recovering from the embarrassment while Petey watched him from the corner of his eye. Finally, the cat sighed and, with a more relaxed tone, said:

—Look, if it embarrasses you so much, just pretend it never happened.

Dogman lowered his paws from his face and looked at him with a mix of surprise and gratitude. Then, after a couple of seconds of hesitation, he raised his paws and slowly formed some words in the air:

"Really?"

Petey shrugged.

"Sure. But if you ever need me as a pillow again, at least bring me a coffee first."

Dogman let out a soft huff, almost like a laugh, and scratched his ear with a hind paw, a gesture that Petey interpreted as embarrassment.

From that moment on, something changed.

It wasn't immediate or obvious, but it was there, growing in the air between them.

Dogman tried to act like nothing had happened. In his mind, that awkward episode was behind him, a simple accident with no greater importance. But then, every time he crossed paths with Petey, his tail would start wagging on its own, betraying him mercilessly. Worse still, when the cat looked at him with that half-smile, Dogman would feel a strange warmth in his ears.

For his part, Petey convinced himself that he didn't care. To him, it had all been a curious anecdote and nothing more. However, every time Dogman entered his lair with his clumsy enthusiasm, he felt something new: a slight sense of anticipation. As if, deep down... he was waiting for his arrival.

And that frustrated him.

That's why he started being more sarcastic than usual.

"Wow, look who's here! If you keep visiting me like this, people are going to think we're friends," he said one day, lying on his couch with a mock expression of annoyance.

Dogman frowned and showed him his paws, moving them quickly.

"I'm just making sure you don't do anything bad! ... and yes, we're friends."

—Uh-huh, sure —Petey rolled his eyes—. So tell me, where in the police regulations does it say you have to fall asleep on a criminal?

Dogman felt his heart skip a beat. His body stiffened, and his tail stopped immediately.

"That was an accident!" he signed awkwardly, shaking his paws with more energy than necessary.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Petey rested his cheek in his hand and smiled sideways. "What surprises me is that after all that, you still come around like nothing happened."

Dogman pressed his lips together in a gesture of concentration. He was right; he had promised himself nothing weird would happen again. And yet, there he was again, visiting Petey without any real reason beyond... well...

He didn't want to finish that thought.

To make things worse, Dogman began to notice details that hadn't affected him before. Like the way Petey shrugged nonchalantly, but his ears subtly moved when he was nervous. Or how his tail would wag with slight impatience when Dogman took too long to respond. And most of all, how his voice sounded different when he teased him, more relaxed, more confident.

Something in Dogman's chest tightened.

But the more he denied it, the more evident it became.

On the other hand, Petey was also dealing with his own dilemma. He liked the idea of having Dogman at his mercy, of watching him react awkwardly to his comments, of being able to predict his responses before he even signed them. But deep down, he knew that his enjoyment went beyond simple amusement.

What really troubled him was the comfort he had found in the dog's presence.

And that was dangerous.

So, in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation, he decided to push the limits further.

"Tell me, Dogman, are you afraid of it happening again?" he asked suddenly, in a playful tone but with something else hidden in his voice.

Dogman froze.

"What... what thing?"

Petey tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, amused.

—Oh, you know... You ending up falling asleep again.

Dogman felt a shiver run down his spine.

"That... that won't happen!"

"Sure? Because it seemed like you were enjoying it quite a bit..."

Dogman covered his face with his paws and let out an embarrassed groan. Petey burst out laughing, but his own chest felt strangely light. Maybe this was a dangerous game. But for now, he didn't mind playing along.

After that first incident, Dogman kept visiting Petey for any excuse. Sometimes he said it was "for precaution" ("I have to watch you, I don't trust you"), other times he didn't even try to justify it. He'd just show up and stay there, lying on the couch, flipping through comics or simply enjoying the silence.

At first, Petey just had fun with it. He kept teasing him, throwing sarcastic comments every time he saw Dogman's tail wagging happily, or when the dog fell asleep near him again. But deep down... he started to get too used to his presence.

They started having more personal conversations. Nothing too serious, of course—Petey wasn't the type to open up easily—but every now and then, Dogman noticed that the cat didn't just tease. Sometimes, when he thought the dog was already asleep, he'd murmur things about his past, about how tedious life was without excitement, or even about Lil' Petey.

And Dogman pretended not to hear, but deep down, he liked being there more and more.

Until, one day, the discomfort arrived in the form of a third party.