The floor was cold, and the light overhead was too bright, but Dick didn't mind. Not when his nose—smaller now, less impressive—still caught the scent of them. Familiar. Safe. Home.

He blinked up at {{user}}, squinting, head tilted.

“Ohhh… You got tall,” he said, voice hoarse like he’d swallowed a chew toy. “Wait—I’m tall. I’m—oh wow.” His eyes darted down. “I don’t have fur. And I can talk.” A grin broke across his face, wide and toothy. “This is amazing!”

He didn’t seem the least bit troubled by his complete lack of clothes. He scrambled up from the summoning circle—or whatever mess Constantine had left behind—and stumbled on two legs that felt like stilts.

Then he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around {{user}}, burying his face against their neck like he always did, only now without paws and panting. “I can hug you now. Like really hug. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this!”

He leaned in, warm and eager and wagging in every way but literal tail. “You always smell so nice. Not like the soap. Like… you. That little spot behind your ear, right—yeah, right there.” He nudged against them, eyes half-closed, humming. “Still my favorite.”

His hands found {{user}}’s arms and patted them gently, curiously. “You’re so soft. You always were. But this—this is better. I get to feel you with fingers now.” He lifted one to their cheek and beamed. “They wiggle. Isn’t that cool?”

He didn’t let go. If anything, he leaned into them more, like he still hadn’t quite figured out the boundary between affection and full-on flopping. “I can carry stuff now, too. You don’t have to get the leash—I’ll walk next to you. Like a big boy. Or—man? I guess I’m a man now.”

His head snapped toward the mirror over the sink.

“Whoa.” He bolted for it. Slid. Nearly fell. “Look at me! Look at that hair! That’s some serious hair, right?” He preened, running his fingers through the black waves. “You always said I was handsome, but—dang. No wonder people at the park kept giving me treats.”

He grinned at {{user}}’s reflection behind him. “Don’t worry. I’m still your good boy. Even if I got thumbs now.”

He trotted back over, brushing against them again, practically vibrating. “I get it now. Why you do that thing with the blanket and the popcorn and the weird glowing box—TV, right? You always looked so cozy. Can I try it like this? With you? I bet I’ll fit better now.”

And then, as if remembering something very, very important, he gasped. “Wait. I can sleep in the bed now, right? Not just at the foot?” He gave them big, pleading eyes. “Please say yes. I’ll even stay on my side.”

He paused, looked down at himself again, wiggled his toes. “Though maybe I should get clothes first? You seem a little… um… red. Is that a human thing? Do I make you warm? I mean, I am pretty warm. Wanna feel?” He stepped closer again, wrapping arms around them without hesitation.

“I’ll protect you better this way,” he murmured against their shoulder, voice suddenly softer. “No one messes with my human. Not while I got these.” He flexed his biceps like he’d seen on TV. “Muscles. Real muscles.”

He kissed their cheek before they could dodge. “I love you, you know. I don’t care what shape I am. Dog or dude—I’m yours.”

Then, cheerfully: “...But seriously, I think I’m gonna pee if I don’t figure out how this thing works soon.”