Benny and Marco

The bunk room is cramped, dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Two metal bunk beds take up most of the space, sheets mismatched, boots lined against the wall. It smells faintly of detergent, dust, and sweat familiar, lived-in.

Marco sits on the lower bunk, arms crossed, trying very hard not to look smug.

Benny paces back and forth, tail wagging like he’s about to burst.

“You did it,” Benny whispers loudly. “You actually did it!”

Marco huffs. “Lower your voice, idiot.”

“But you convinced Harold!” Benny insists, beaming. “You’re really smart sometimes. I didn’t think he’d ever let someone stay in here.”

Marco grimaces. Compliments always make him uncomfortable. “It wasn’t hard. I just said it’d keep things quiet.”

Benny nods enthusiastically, as if that makes perfect sense. “Yeah! Quiet. Very smart.”

They both freeze when they hear footsteps approaching outside, then fading again. Marco exhales slowly.

“This is perfect,” he mutters. “Perfect timing.”

Benny leans closer, whispering conspiratorially. “So... we’re both allowed, right?”

Marco shoots him a look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Benny continues, oblivious. “You said if I helped, I’d get a chance too.”

Marco’s ears flick in irritation. “Hey! he’s not yours. I saw him first.”

Benny pouts. “I saw him too. I just didn’t say anything.”

Marco groans, rubbing his face. “You’re impossible.”

He reaches under the bunk and pulls out a bottle, setting it on the small table. He lowers his voice. “Listen. I got something special. Just to... loosen things up. Make things easier.”

Benny tilts his head. “Like soda?”

“...Sure,” Marco says, hesitating. “Like soda.”

He places it carefully apart from the others. “That one’s not for you.”

Benny nods very seriously. “Okay.”

“Don’t touch it,” Marco adds.

“Got it.”

Marco straightens, trying to look casual. “Just act friendly. Be normal. We’ll invite him to play something. Uno or whatever.”

“Uno!” Benny grins. “I love Uno.”

Footsteps approach again. Marco stiffens, then forces a relaxed posture.

“Hey,” Marco calls out, attempting confidence. “We were thinking of playing Uno. If you’re bored.”

He gives Benny a quick look, now.

Benny, eager to help, reaches for a drink.

The wrong one.

Marco watches in horror as Benny grabs the bottle, twists the cap, and takes a long, satisfied gulp.

“...What are you doing,” Marco hisses.

Benny wipes his mouth, smiling. “You said be friendly.”

“That wasn’t...” Marco stops himself, grabbing Benny by the ear and yanking him closer. “You absolute idiot.”

“Ow hey!” Benny whines. “What’d I do?”

Marco’s heart sinks as he realizes exactly what just happened. “That wasn’t for you.”

Benny blinks. Then his tail starts wagging faster. “Oh.”

He laughs softly, unfocused, stepping closer without realizing it. His nose twitches instinctively, curiosity taking over as he leans in just a bit too close.

Marco’s eyes widen. “No. No, don’t—”

Benny inhales, confused but smiling. “Huh. You smell nice.”

“HEY.” Marco grabs him again, yanking him back hard. “Stop that! What’s wrong with you?”

Benny blinks, ears perking up as a strange realization hits him.

"... I think I wanna mate. Like. Right now.”

Marco’s eyes go wide. “BENNY SHUT UP.” Benny laughs, completely unbothered, stepping forward with way too much curiosity. His nose twitches, attention drifting somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t.

Marco panics. He grabs Benny by the collar, yanking him back. “Nope. Absolutely not. Personal space. BACK.”

Marco immediately forces a laugh, turning toward the doorway, "Haha he’s weird like that. Too much sugar. You know how it is.”

Benny leans sideways, still trying to peer around Marco. “I just wanna check something—”

“YOU WANT TO SIT,” Marco snaps through shoving him onto the bunk. “And you want to shut up.”

Benny pouts, tail still betraying him. “But we’re still playing Uno, right?”

Marco glares at him, then straightens again, plastering on a calm expression while positioning himself firmly in the way. The plan is destroyed. And keeping Benny under control might be harder than anything he planned for.

The late afternoon settles over the ranch, dust hanging in the air like it always does after a long day of work. Somewhere nearby, metal clinks against wood, animals shift in their pens, and voices carry lazily across the open land.

Benny wipes his hands on his overalls, tail wagging without him even noticing. His eyes keep drifting in the same direction, again and again, like he’s afraid he might miss something if he looks away for too long.

Marco notices immediately.

“Oh my god,” Marco mutters, arms crossed, snout wrinkling. “Just looking at your face tells me everything I need to know. You don’t even think before you do things, do you?”

Benny blinks at him “What?” he asks, genuinely confused. “I’m thinking.”

“No, you’re not,” Marco snaps. “You’ve got that look. The empty one. Like there’s nothing happening in there.”

Benny frowns, ears drooping slightly. “That’s mean.”

“It’s true,” Marco says, gesturing vaguely. “You think you can just wag your tail and smile and suddenly you’re... interesting?”

Benny straightens, offended now. “I am interesting! And at least I’m not grumpy all the time. Nobody wants to be around someone who complains about everything.”

Marco scoffs. “If anyone’s got a chance here, it’s me. I’m not an idiot.”

“You’re no fun at all.” Benny says, crossing his arms the wrong way around. “You scare people off. You talk like you’re mad at the world.”

“I am mad at the world,” Marco snaps back. “And I’m especially mad that you think you’ve got a chance.”

Benny’s tail slows, but he lifts his chin stubbornly. “He wouldn’t want someone who’s always yelling.”

Marco leans closer, eyes narrowed. “And he wouldn’t want someone he has to explain things to five times.”

Benny opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it again. He thinks for a moment hard. “Well... I’m nice.”

Marco rolls his eyes. “That’s your whole plan? Be nice and hope it works?”

“It works sometimes,” Benny mutters.

They both fall silent for a second, tension thick between them. Marco’s jaw tightens as something bitter twists in his chest. He hates that feeling being second, being overlooked. He hates it even more that Benny might not even notice when it happens.

“So,” Marco says finally, voice low. “You think you can get there first?”

Benny’s ears perk up. “I’m fast.”

Marco snorts. “You trip over air.”

Benny’s tail suddenly starts wagging again, determination flickering across his soft features. “I can run.”

Before Marco can say anything else, Benny turns and bolts, boots kicking up dust as he barrels forward with all the enthusiasm of someone who didn’t think past the first step.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Marco growls.

He lunges after him, grabbing Benny by the strap of his overalls. Benny yelps, stumbling.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Life’s cheating,” Marco snaps, yanking him back just long enough. Benny flails, apologizing even as he tries to pull free.

“I just wanna talk!” Benny protests.

“Exactly,” Marco mutters, releasing him abruptly.

Benny stumbles forward again, but Marco’s already moving, pushing himself harder than usual, lungs burning as he cuts ahead. His heart pounds not just from running, but from the realization that he actually wants this. Wants to be first. Wants to be chosen.

He slows when he reaches the edge of the barn, forcing himself to straighten, smooth his overalls, pretend he’s not out of breath.

Benny skids to a stop behind him, panting.

Marco doesn’t look back. “Hey,” he says, casual, almost awkward. “I was wondering... maybe you’d want to grab dinner later. In the barn. After work.”

Behind him, Benny groans softly. Marco allows himself a small smile.

They’re sitting on the floor now, backs against the bunk beds, the room quiet except for the occasional creak of metal and the distant sounds of the ranch settling for the night.

Benny is way too close.

He doesn’t seem to notice it, of course. He’s crouched beside him, tail sweeping the dusty floor in slow, happy arcs, nose twitching constantly as he leans in and out like he’s trying to solve a mystery only he can smell.

Marco sits a little farther away, arms crossed tight over his chest.

He watches it happen with a scowl he can’t quite control.

Stupid dog, he thinks bitterly. All that fur. People always liked that.

Benny inhales again. “You smell... really nice,” he says, smiling wide, completely sincere.

Marco’s jaw tightens. “Can you not do that?”

Benny looks at him, confused. “Do what?”

“...That,” Marco snaps, gesturing vaguely. “The sniffing. You look like an idiot.”

Benny’s ears droop for half a second then pop right back up. “Oh. Sorry.”

He pauses. Then leans in again anyway, tail wagging harder.

Marco exhales sharply through his nose and forces himself to relax. He straightens his posture, tries to look casual, mature. Normal.

“So,” Marco says, clearing his throat. “You liking the job so far?” He waits, nodding to himself as if that was smooth. “And, uh... the people here,” he adds, glancing sideways. “Anyone stand out?”

Benny perks up instantly. “Oh! Oh!” He points at himself. “Me, right?”

Marco groans. “That’s not... I wasn’t asking you.”

Benny blinks. “Oh.”

He turns back, hopeful eyes wide, tail still going. He sits up straighter, like a kid waiting for a gold star.

Marco rolls his shoulders, trying again. “I mean... if you had to say. Who do you like more so far?”

Benny’s ears flatten. “That’s a weird question.”

“It’s a normal question,” Marco snaps.

“No, it’s not,” Benny insists. “You’re making it weird.”

Marco glares at him. “I’m not making it weird.”

Benny looks between them, then grins sheepishly. “I think he’s asking who you’d pick.”

Marco’s face heats. “I did not say that.”

“But that’s what it sounds like,” Benny says, nodding seriously. “Like choosing teams.”

Marco opens his mouth to argue then closes it. He forces a thin smile instead, trying to salvage some dignity. “I’m just curious,” he says, more controlled now. “That’s all.”

Benny scoots even closer, shoulders brushing. He beams up, tail wagging like it has a mind of its own. “I’m really friendly. And strong. And I help a lot.”

Marco snorts despite himself. “You also dropped a feed sack on your own foot today.”

Benny shrugs. “It was heavy.”

“Because you weren’t paying attention.”

Benny frowns. “You’re mean.”

Marco sighs, rubbing his face. “I’m realistic.”

Benny crosses his arms. “I think you’re jealous.”

Marco stiffens. “I am not.”

“You are,” Benny insists, leaning back with a smug little grin. “You don’t have my fur.”

Marco bristles. “Your fur is always full of dirt.”

“Still nice,” Benny replies proudly.

They both look forward again, tension thick but ridiculous.

Marco clears his throat once more, trying to regain control. “Anyway,” he mutters. “I was just asking.”

Benny leans forward again, hopeful, eyes shining. “So...?”

Marco clenches his jaw, pretending not to care as much as he absolutely does.