No Such Thing As Puppy Love

Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron. Apparently, Quill owns my muse… or at least has an inordinate influence over it.

Hunk had seen many, many strange and mystical things since the team had come to Arus, and had, after some time, come to more or less expect them. The one thing he had never expected, however, was that he’d wake up one morning and find that Sven was a dog.

An actual dog, meaning Canis familiaris, four legs and a tail and a slobbering tongue, and not the kind of sex-starved, panting-for-it, love-‘em-and-leave-‘em dog he usually was.

Which, Hunk decided, wasn’t entirely fair, as Sven hadn’t been that kind of a dog for… well, at least the past 24 hours.

Lying in bed, under the blanket this time, because apparently Sven had kinks he never wanted to know about, Hunk stared up at the ceiling. Absently, he stroked the sleek head that had pillowed itself against his thigh, ignoring the way Sven occasionally pushed against him, looking for more attention… or at least, a more personal kind of attention.

Hunk had to explain to him more than once that while he did like Sven’s inner beast, he wasn’t nearly as interested in getting more intimately acquainted now that it was his outer beast.

In his mind, there was no question that the dog was Sven; the dog was muscular and athletic, covered in silky black fur – which, all right, Sven wasn’t normally – but most importantly, the eyes that should have been soulfully brown were the same slate blue as Sven’s own.

That, and the dog definitely had Sven’s sex drive, because the first thing the dog had tried to do on waking was lick Hunk’s cock. The presence of sharp teeth so close to his manly bits had made Hunk nervous enough to ensure that nothing would happen.

Hunk sighed, and the dog looked at him expectantly. “All right, Sven… I suppose we ought to see if anyone can figure out what happened to you.” He slid out from beneath the blanket and started searching for his clothes.

He was rewarded with a cold nose up against his nuts.

***

“Hey, Hunk! Cool dog! Where’d you find him?” Pidge knelt down and was immediately met with a warm wet tongue all over his face. “Hee! Friendly, too!”

“In my bed,” Hunk said, and couldn’t help but grin as Sven put his front paws up on Pidge’s shoulders.

“Your bed?” Keith was still at the breakfast table, but Lance had gotten up to see if the dog would give him some attention, especially since he wasn’t getting much from Keith.

“Why would there be a dog in your bed? How’d he get there?” Lance reached out to ruffle Sven’s ears, but the dog didn’t even acknowledge him. Hunk chuckled at that; apparently even as a dog, Sven wasn’t quite desperate enough to forget how Lance had ignored him in favor of Keith.

“Guess he doesn’t like you.” Pidge was still giggling, trying to fend off Sven’s tongue, and quite suddenly, Hunk had to wonder if Sven had further designs on the kid than just a game of lick your face off. He snapped his fingers and whistled, trying to get the dog to heed him, and was rather startled when Sven left off playing with Pidge and looked up at him, tail wagging.

“Yeah, but he does like Hunk.” Pidge wiped the excess slobber off his face and hands.

“Remember to wash your hands,” Keith remarked, almost absently. He’d twisted around in his seat, and was now frowning at Hunk, who had knelt down to better pet the dog.

Pidge sighed gustily, but obediently left the dining room to do as he was bid.

“So… where’d the dog come from, Hunk?” Keith was still studying both him and the dog. “He couldn’t have just showed up in your bed.”

Hunk looked up. “Yeah, well, that’s what he did… because when I went to sleep, my bed did not have a dog in it.”

Lance snickered and returned to his coffee cup. “You mean except for Sven,” he retorted with a hint of nastiness.

“Well, if you’re going to look at it that way, you might just as well say I woke up with the same dog I went to bed with,” Hunk responded as innocently as he could.

It was possible that Lance set a record for spray volume and distance with his spit take, but no one really wanted to brave the mess to be sure.

***

“That’s Sven.”

“For the hundredth time, yes.”

“And you’re sure it’s Sven?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Hunk turned red. “Let’s just leave it that I’m sure.”

Lance blinked, and Keith blushed. Pidge just carried on petting the dog, which was really just as well, because he didn’t need any more hours added on to his therapy.

“So… what happened?”

“Well, you know, for a dog, he’s been amazingly forthcoming about his transformation.”

“Really?”

Hunk sighed and wished he had a rolled up newspaper, just so he had something to bean Lance with. “No, you twit! Don’t you know sarcasm when you hear it?”

Lance flushed and glowered at him before falling into sullen silence.

“Hmm.” Keith glanced at Sven – who was sitting by Pidge, tongue lolling happily – and quickly away. “So… are we going to suspect Haggar or some other source?”

“I don’t know, Keith.” Pidge glanced up. “Isn’t this a little tame for Haggar’s taste?”

“Probably. So… who did Sven piss off enough that they’d do this to him?”

Pidge snorted at that. “More like, who didn’t he piss off. For a while there, he was hitting on pretty much anything with two legs…”

So much for saving on Pidge’s therapy, Hunk thought wistfully.

Keith’s frown intensified. “So… if they were angry that Sven hooked up with Hunk… why didn’t they do this to Hunk, instead?”

It was Lance’s turn to snort. “Who’s to say they didn’t? Maybe this is in the way of a warning for him, not revenge against Sven?”

“You’re not exactly decreasing the possibilities with that suggestion.”

“I didn’t realize that’s what I was supposed to be doing!”

“Getting upset is not going to help us,” Keith said.

“I’m not upset!”

“You’re shouting!”

“I’m not shouting, you’re shouting!”

“Be quiet!” Hunk roared. Sven was suddenly next to his chair, growling fiercely, hackles raised. “Fighting to sublimate the unresolved sexual tension between you two is not helping us, here!” He stood, giving Sven a few strokes down his back to calm him down, and stared as both Keith and Lance blushed and looked anywhere but at him or at each other. “Fine. You two can play let’s pretend and Pidge and I will see if there’s someone who can help us get Sven back to normal.”

Pidge scrambled to his feet as Hunk stalked from the dining room, Sven trotting on his heels. “Hey, where are we going?”

“To find someone who can help us.”

***

“Oh, Hunk! What a lovely dog!” Princess Allura knelt down and offered a hand to Sven, who sniffed it politely and gave it a genteel swipe of his tongue. “What’s his name?”

Ignoring Pidge’s muttered “This is who you think is going to help us?” Hunk replied, “It’s Sven.”

Allura looked up at him, her brow creased by a puzzled frown. “You named the dog after Sven?” Then she chuckled. “What does he think about that?”

Pidge rolled his eyes.

With a cough, Hunk said, “Uh, no, Princess, that is Sven.”

In the blink of an eye, Allura was on the other side of the room. “What?”

“When I woke up this morning, he was… well, like that.”

Allura eyed the dog with both shock and horror. Sven started panting just a little, pink tongue just barely dangling from his mouth.

“Princess, we were hoping you could help…”

A minute later, Pidge, Hunk and Sven were walking back down the corridor. Allura’s shrieks were still echoing in their ears.

Glaring down at the dog, Hunk growled, “I wish someone had told me that you had tried to put the make on the Princess!”

Wiggling a finger in one ear, Pidge said, “Well, I did say he had hit on anything with two legs…”

“That is it, mister,” Hunk said, still addressing the dog. “I ought to have you neutered.”

The dog just gave him a mournful look.

“Looks like you’ll have to stay that way, Sven.” Hunk wasn’t quite done scolding.

“And that means no nookie for you!” Pidge chimed in, grinning.

Sven stopped in his tracks and howled.

***

Once Keith and Lance had stopped laughing over the Allura debacle, they decided that they’d have to just wait it out. They had no idea of who might have transformed Sven, or for what reason, and Sven’s own actions made it difficult to narrow the field down.

“We’ll just have to hope that… whatever it was wears off. Eventually.” Keith couldn’t even get the words out with a straight face.

Sprawled on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, Hunk mulled it over. “Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” he muttered, staring balefully at the dog. “It’s not like you have a sex life.”

At the mention of those magic words, Sven lifted his head and turned to Hunk, his tail thumping against the mattress.

“And neither do you, right now, Sven.”

Again, he was treated to a sorrowful look, which, for some reason, blue eyes just couldn’t pull off quite as well as the liquid brown eyes that a dog normally had. Pointedly, Sven looked away and lowered his head to his paws once more.

A horrible thought struck him suddenly, and Hunk groaned and covered his eyes with on hand. Oh, God… he’s going to eventually remember that he can lick himself…

***

The days slowly went by. As Hunk had predicted, Sven soon discovered that a dog’s body can bend in ways that a human’s couldn’t, and spent rather a lot of time… grooming himself.

Every morning, Hunk woke up with the dog’s warm body curled up next to him, and after a few days, he eventually stopped looking for Sven-as-Sven. Sven-as-dog was a nice companion, though a bit demanding in his quest for affection. The dog followed him everywhere – or tried, and gave him the most reproachful look a dog could manage if he couldn’t.

This was especially the case whenever Hunk tried to take a shower. Sven would try to follow him into the shower stall, until he had to push the dog back out into the bedroom and shut the bathroom door.

He’d never been so glad that canines didn’t have opposable thumbs, because Sven’s first foray into the bathroom with him was what had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the dog was Sven. Sven-as-dog had even fewer inhibitions than Sven-as-Sven. And that was saying something.

What was more than a little troubling, however, was the fact that Sven became more and more dog-like as the days passed, as if his human self was being subsumed by the dog. A couple of weeks after waking up with the dog, Hunk turned around and found Sven holding one of his socks in his mouth, in the classic play with me posture – front legs bent, rear high in the air, tail wagging. They had a spirited game of tug-o-war before Sven simply dropped his end.

After more than three weeks with Sven-as-dog, Hunk started to lose hope that he would be transformed back… and was concerned that even if he was turned back, it would be even more traumatic. Pidge had idly been playing with a ball, bouncing it off the opposite wall of a corridor, when Sven had dashed through and grabbed the ball. When Pidge had called after him, he’d brought it back and dropped it readily enough, but waited, panting and wagging, until Pidge tossed it down the corridor. Immediately, he’d bounded after it, toenails clicking against the slippery floor and scrabbling for purchase to turn around.

As the fourth week drew to a close, Hunk had nearly resigned himself to the fact that Sven would be a dog for the rest of his life. He fell asleep with Sven’s wedge shaped head on his stomach, tickling the silky ears.

And that was why when he woke up the next morning, he was shocked to find that Sven was Sven again.

***

“Sven, I tooooooold… Hey!” Hunk awoke abruptly at the sensation of a tongue on his cock, and started to scold Sven and push him off… only to come in contact with flesh. Bare flesh. And slate-blue eyes twinkling in a human face.

“Sven?” Then Hunk’s eyes rolled back into his head as Sven did something with his tongue that he was sure was illegal on three different planets.

It was a long, long while later, wrung out, groaning and sticky, before Hunk got to ask the question that had plagued him for a month. “What… happened?”

Sven was draped over him, head on his broad shoulder, as exhausted as Hunk had ever seen him. “You know vhat happened. Me. Dog. Voof.” He mock-growled and snapped playfully at Hunk’s neck, without actually biting him.

Hunk rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but how’d you get that way? And how’d you change back.”

Sven went silent and still at that. “You von’t believe me.”

He ran a soothing hand down Sven’s lean back. “Sure I will.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Maybe, but I’ll try hard not to.”

Sven sighed, right against the sensitive nerves of Hunk’s neck, causing him to shiver. “You sure?”

“Yes. Tell me.”

So he did.

Hunk laughed so hard that he was truly afraid he would bust a gut.

***

Pidge, Keith and Lance stared in disbelief. “You’re kidding,” Keith said flatly.

“Not about this,” Hunk replied. Sven sniffed and turned away.

Lance started to grin.

“Come on. You’re not serious.”

“That’s what he told me. I swear.”

Lance’s grin turned into silent shudders of laughter.

“Really?” Keith shot a quick glare at Lance for jostling him. “Stop that.”

At that, Lance just couldn’t hold back the howls of mirth. “A dog… Oh, God… You got… turned into a dog… for prop-prop-askin’ Hunk to… have… sex…” he started wheezing, “in … in Kin’ Alfor’s tomb?” He laid his head on the table and laughed until he cried.

At that, Keith and Pidge broke up as well, which brought Sven back around to glower at them.

Trying to stifle his own chuckles, Hunk offered, “Well… at least you’ve learned your lesson, right?”

Sven growled, sounding amazingly dog-like, and grabbed Hunk’s muscular arm.

Not suspecting the movement, Hunk was pulled off-balance when Sven started to tug him from the room, and had to stumble after him. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Lesson,” Sven muttered, stalking down the corridor. “I’ll give him a lesson…”

Hunk dug in his heels when he recognized the hall leading to the dead king’s resting place. “Oh, no… No, no, no.”

“I’ll show him desecrating…”

***

The next morning, Keith was not really surprised to see two big black dogs lying outside his door…