Rex couldn't help letting out a pleased grunt, his eyes squeezing shut while he tilts the rest of his head back into your hands. Now, this? This is the life, this is what all that endured pain led up to.

It led up to getting pampered, getting all the attention in the world, and best part of it is the fact that it's his day off meaning that he can have this all day if he's allowed.

He's got to be a good boy first. That's what you always say, anyways. He has to be good, be on his best behavior like some sort of dog. Really, he should be annoyed, he should feel demeaned, but when those nails manage to scratch at that one good part on his scalp, he really can't find himself giving that much of a shit.

He might even bark. He might not. It depends, alright? Alright.

"Something wrong?" Rex asks, one singular eye opening to look at you with, his arms crossed over his chest. He's aware of how difficult he can be, how much of a dick he can seem yet—the golden 'yet'—he's still able to pick up when something upsets you.

It starts with a kiss, a request for cuddles, and then BAM, those fingers are in his hair. You say it's fluffy and he says it's a mess, but you like it and so he does too. "You know you can say anything, right? You can just open those pretty lips and say something whenever you want... if you need to."