The Weight of Warmth - Modern Mythics Part 2 by BrigantineW < Submission

Keywords male 1212670, dragon 151469, male/male 127652, sfw 29582, story 14253, mustelid 9407, romance 9205, stoat 2363, story progression 2039, story series 1965, relationship 1380, gay relationship 1288, care 1068, relationships 409, gay romance 22, strangers to lovers 2

—
Gavin
—

Okay, so to recap: I'm sitting in the back seat of a cab I can't afford. Being taken to who-knows-where, for who-knows-what reason. Two days away from being homeless. Broke because I spent all my money on tacos. Hungry because I fed almost all of them to the big-pharma CEO sitting next to me.

Yup, that sounds about right.

What the hell even is my life right now?!

At least the cab is normal. Faded blue upholstery, no little rips or cigarette burns. It's clean, too - there's no burger wrappers or loose fries kicking around back here, which is a nice change. The only thing out of place, really, is...

Freaking Janek. How is it possible that he's even breathing the same air as me? Everything about him screams money, from the polished leather shoes, to the khaki pants that outline every bulge and dip of his thick-ass legs, to the sweater vest that just barely covers that big ol' belly, and arms that look ready to bust his rolled-up sleeves...

Fuck me. Why do I keep getting in the car with the most dangerous guys I can find? He could snap me like a twig. Hell, I already told Todd and Alisha that I was going to move out soon. Would anyone even notice if he abducted me? Oh, hell, was that what this really was? Some kind of sick kidnapping ploy, part of his demented game?!

Well, so maybe I was spiraling a bit. I let my eyes wander over lizard brain again. If he was a kidnapper, he looked awful cozy in that sweater vest. And he hadn't even looked at me since he got into the cab. Just sorta... stared out the window, humming something and tapping his knee in time with the beat.

I cleared my throat, and his head turned just a little too fast to be casual. I smiled, but I knew it wasn't very convincing. "Ah, heh, so... this isn't a kidnapping, right?" Jan blinked, his own smile fading slightly. "I mean, you're not, like, taking me back to some kind of sex dungeon where you're going to make me your slave and I'll never see daylight again and—oh-my-God shut up, Gav!"

He looked a little shell-shocked, which I guessed was understandable. 'Hi, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scaly! You gonna take me to your dungeon and fuck me? Just wondering!'` Wow. Way to let the intrusive thoughts win.

When Jan opened his mouth, he spoke quietly and deliberately. "Gavin, I do not know what kind of man you take me for, but I assure you, I have not taken a lover in centuries. And if I wanted one, I would not lack for willing applicants." A thoughtful expression crossed his scaled face. "Besides, I never liked the idea of owning people, even when it was acceptable to do so. It is most distasteful."

"Centuries... when it was acceptable to..." I shook my head. "No, that's confusing, so I'm gonna ignore it. So, like, if you don't want me for sex, why do you want me?" Trying not to show my confusion—never let 'em see you struggle!—I gave my best casual shrug. "I don't really have a hell of a lot else going on. I—"

"Nie!" Jan shook his head emphatically, straightening as he did so and muttering something that sounded like a curse when he whacked his head on the low roof. "No, that's not true!" His scaled paws seized mine and pulled them closer as he dipped his head to look into my eyes. Wow... I never knew scales could be so... soft. And warm.

Wow.

I stared at his massive clawed hands, surprisingly delicate for someone so big, as he continued. "You are a joy to be around, Gavin. Everything you do is so full of... of life! The way you throw yourself into whatever you do, jumping in feet-first, it's..." He squeezed my paws gently, then quickly dropped them. "Sorry. I should not have touched you without asking."

I still felt his warmth, clasping my hands together to hang onto it a little longer. "It's... I mean, ask first next time, but it was..." I swallowed against a sudden hard lump in my throat at his concern. No-one that powerful had ever cared so much about my feelings, my autonomy, and I had to look away from him. I couldn't trust him. Not yet.

No matter how nice he pretended to be.

I cleared my throat before asking, "So, what was that song you were humming? I've never heard it before."

When he didn't respond right away, I hazarded another glance at his face, and -

"Shit," I blurted out. Jan's forest green eyes were definitely 100%, glowing green, like he'd been lit up from the inside out. I'd never seen anything like it, and something about it drew me in. I couldn't stop myself from leaning a little closer to the man.

His face was calm, with just a hint of a smile, as he quietly said, "It is a lullaby. My mama used to sing it for me every night when I was very young." Jan blinked, and his eyes returned to their normal, non-glowing green. "It is Polish. Old, of course. It is not sung anymore—I think I am the last one who remembers it now."

Oh. That face again - the one that looked like he was remembering something that disappeared a long, long time ago. He was so easy to read, really, once you spent a little time with the guy. Quick, Gav, say something! "Yeah, it was nice." Really? Was that the best I could do? "Uh, so, why that one? And why right now?"

Now it was Jan's turn to look away, his massive tail twitching behind him. "It... it always calms me down when I am nervous."

That made me snort. "You were nervous? I don't believe it. Rich people don't get nervous."

"I was not nervous." His eyes jumped back to me, just for a second, before he returned to staring out the window. I almost didn't catch it when he muttered two words that would haunt me for the rest of the day. "You were."

What?

Is he talking about... no, no way? He can't have been talking about me.

"You were."

Well, who else was here? The cabbie? He sure wasn't talking about him. And I really had been nervous. Who wouldn't be?

So what's he trying to say here?

Was he actually trying to make me feel better? Or was I misunderstanding the situation? Lord knows I'd done that enough times. That's how I got into that whole mess with—

"We're here," Jan said matter-of-factly.

I tried looking out the window, but all I could see was glass and steel from the ground to the top of the taxi's frame. The reptile (who I was nearly willing to believe might be kind) slid out first—not standing so much as unfurling himself from the cab—and held the door for me, looking for all the world like some massive scaly butler.

I couldn't see anything more of what lay outside, so I took a deep breath and slid out after him. Jan handed the driver a wad of bills through the open passenger window, and the guy looked well and truly freaked as he drove away. "Okay," I said, twisting to see around Jan's gigantic body. "I give. Where the hell are we?"

He rocked back on his heels, bouncing a few times as he brought a paw to rub at the back of his smooth head. "Ah, well, you see, I..." Jan trailed off a moment into a coughing fit before starting back up. "I have not been out much in the last several years, so I didn't know where to bring you but here." He stepped aside and swept an arm up the building he'd been blocking from my view. "Welcome to my home."

"What the fuck, Jan. You live here?!" The place was so tall I couldn't see the top floor from where I was standing. The building looked pristine, too, all glass and steel and chrome. It was the only building on the city block it took up, the surrounding land expertly landscaped with—

"Wait, are those apple trees?" I jogged over to one, peeking up into its branches as Jan sauntered along. Sure enough, rosy red-yellow fruits bobbed in the breeze. "Holy shit! That's so cool!"

He choked on his breath, then coughed for a few moments. I waited for him to catch his breath, though my eyes never left those delicious-looking apples. They were bigger than I'd ever seen! Bigger than my fist, though probably not bigger than Jan's. My mouth watered at the very idea of fresh fruit—I hadn't really had the money to spare on luxuries like that for a long time now. The branches were so heavy that even I could easily reach out and snag a few...

I started reaching for a particularly juicy specimen, but stopped before I put my hand on it. What if they were for something? If there was one thing I knew, it was that you never took food without permission. Hell, even asking someone for their food was a huge no-no. You just didn't do that.

But I couldn't help but ask, anyway. They looked too damn good! "Hey, uh..." I said, unsure of myself. "can I, like... oh!"

Jan reached out and snagged the branch, lowering the apple straight into my still-waiting palm. I could feel the heat of his body from where he'd stepped behind me, and the moment I snapped the fruit from its stem, he took two paces back. It had only been for a moment, but I shivered at the loss of warmth all the same.

"Anytime," he said, his voice oddly deep and loaded with an emotion I hadn't heard from him before. When I looked up at him, I found Jan staring at me, not moving, not even blinking. "You can have an apple anytime," he clarified. "You never have to ask. Not here."

"Really?" I frowned, then looked back at the tree. "Anytime I want? You're sure? Like, really sure?"

He nodded, giving me one long, slow blink. What, was he living in slow motion? Whatever. Time to show him a little trick my older brother taught me. (What? My family weren't dicks the whole time.)

Resting the apple between both hands, I placed the heels of my hands at the top of it. Curling my fingers along the bottom, I lowered both hands and squeezed. Jan jumped at the audible popping noise it made when I split it clean in half, and he caught up with the blinking he'd missed in less than three seconds. "What did you - how did you do that?"

"Magic," I said, winking at him. When he frowned, I cracked up. "Dude! It's fine. Just a trick my older brother taught me. Gotta press it in just the right way." Checking him with my shoulder, I held out one half of the apple. "Want some?"

"I-I... I don't know, I..." Now this was worth the price of admission! Big ol' crocodile teeth Janek, completely at a loss for words.

Not like I was gonna take no for an answer, either. Taking the other half between my teeth, I snagged his wrist and set his half directly in his palm. "Come on, don't leave me hangin'." I held onto my half as I took a bite. "Food's always better when you share it with a friend."

For a while there, I was afraid he'd give it back - or worse, waste it by throwing it away. But after a pause so long I thought he'd blue-screened, he shook himself all over and raised the apple to his mouth. Jan took that first bite, and I just know he had me grinning like a lunatic. "Well, how is it?" I asked, leaning just a bit closer.

He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before just one corner of his mouth crooked up. It was hard to tell with all the scales, but I swear the corner of his eye crinkled as he did. "You were right," Jan whispered.

"Mmm?" He was looking at me like I'd just offered him the keys to the world instead of half a piece of his own fruit. My mind blanked for a moment before I blurted out, "Oh, sure, yeah! Uh, about what, exactly?"

"It's... better." He took another tiny bite, savoring it before swallowing again. "When you share it. It's better."

"Yeah?" I bumped my shoulder against his again. "Told ya so."

—
Janek
—

Had the apples out in front of my building always been so tart? So sweet? When I first planted the trees after completing construction, they'd been tiny saplings. I insisted on doing the work myself, of course. Come to think of it, that was the last time I really felt dirt beneath my claws.

When had I stopped doing the things I loved most?

Now I was here, with the strangest, loveliest little man beside me, resting on top of the low wall wrapped around the lot, sharing an apple. An apple he'd split with his bare paws - how marvelous! He'd have to teach me the trick of it. I could crush an apple in a single paw, of course, but such precision was something I would need to practice.

But what had my head in the clouds and my mind wandering wasn't the fanciful trick, or the oddly intense flavor of the apple. Those trivialities fell away like leaves from an autumn tree, drifting down and away on the breeze.

No. It was Gavin. Everything about him, from his energetic manner of speech, to his constant observation of his surroundings, to the way he became so happy with things that cost no money at all. It fascinated me as much as it confused me. That night at the bar, I'd offered him a trivial amount of money, and even that little got literally thrown back at me. Kat said it would be a lot to him, though, but that made even less sense. If it was truly a windfall for the stoat, why would he refuse?

As Gavin finished his apple, I took in his appearance. He wore a loose denim jacket covered in colorful patches, but the whole garment was threadbare, thinning in places, and there was a tangle of loose threads where there once had been a zipper on the front. His black t-shirt had a colorful graphic on it - some cartoon bird from a popular children's show, but with long black hair and smoking a cigarette. It seemed older, as well, fading to a dark gray around the shoulders, neck, and hem.

All of his wardrobe seemed old and shabby, actually. His jeans were stained with dirt and grease, and his once-white sneakers were similarly grubby... Wait. Are those holes?!

"Let me buy you new clothes!" I blurted, surprising both him and myself. Saying something wasn't my intention, especially given his anger at my earlier offer. Hastily, I added, "Unless you would rather I not. I truly just want to spend time with you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, not again. Not after, well..." Goodness. What had me all tongue-tied and babbling like a hatchling?

Gavin looked down, studying his feet. I could see his big toe through the hole in his left shoe as it wiggled. There was a long, drawn out pause where the only sounds were the birds in the trees and the bustle of passers-by on the sidewalk. Tension grew between us, so heavy I might have been able to burst it with a single flick of my claws, but it popped on its own when he finally spoke. "I'll think about it," he said, still staring down. "I, uh... I don't want anything fancy. But, like, maybe a new pair of shoes?"

Gavin finally looked up, but didn't quite meet my eyes yet. "I'll pay you back for them, of course. I get paid in two weeks—" Suddenly, he flinched, looking like he'd just been slapped. "Shit, nevermind. I forgot, I'm not... I can't..." His eyes darted around before settling on mine at last. "Look, is there somewhere we can go to talk? Like, privately?"

"Of course!" I pointed to one of the side entrances that dotted the building. "Follow me. It will take a moment to get there, but I can take you to a place that is quite secluded."

He nodded, the movement oddly stilted and jerky, and followed me into ZieleTech. The moment we made it through the door, his eyes were flicking all around again, taking in the white tile, steel beams, and bright white lights. When the man's nose tested the air, it wrinkled in distaste. I sniffed the air myself, wondering at what bothered him. It smelled clean and sterile, which was barely a scent at all.

As we walked, he hugged his shoulders, ducking behind me to avoid being seen by the researchers and technicians that bustled around us. Gavin continued this odd shuffling dance until we reached the elevators. I swiped my key fob, and the door opened immediately. This elevator was solely for my personal use, and only stopped on two floors—here, and directly outside my penthouse on the fifty-first floor.

I stepped in first, so I could hold the door open for my guest. He hurried inside, jamming the 'close door' button repeatedly until they sealed, and we started rising.

He was still hugging himself, and with his shoulders hunched and back bowed, it looked like he was trying to make himself shrink. And it finally struck me, right then. He'd looked so out-of-place, with the white lab coats and business suits and perfectly coiffed hairstyles that my employees wore. Certainly, nobody wore colorful patches, or had holes in their shoes, or sported an irreverent caricature of a cartoon character on their chests.

He was chaos and whimsy. Both the spark and the flame. And above all, he was a good man.

He didn't belong here. I saw that now.

But he could.

I wanted him to belong. And I could make it happen; I was sure of it.

If... if he will only let me.

"Man, this is, um... nice?" Gavin's hesitant words snapped me out of my thoughts and back to reality. "I'm surprised you even let me in the door," he continued, chuckling weakly. "I, ah, think that I brought your property value down just by being here."

He gave me a shaky grin. I stared at him so hard he had to look away. "Was that..." I swallowed against a hard lump that had formed in my throat. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

The stoat mumbled something under his breath that I couldn't hear. But when I growled, he jumped, and a paw flew to the back of his neck. "S-Sorry..." he said, voice shaky. "Really, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad, I'm just really nervous, and I make jokes when I'm nervous, but that one wasn't funny, I guess, and - "

I rested a hand on his shoulder, and his back went ramrod straight as a warm flush pinked the tips of his ears and nose. "Calm, calm," I said, as soothingly as I could. Apparently, that wasn't very soothing at all, from the way he shrank away from my touch. With a sigh, I retreated. "Gavin, I am not... mad. Not at you, in any event."

When he still wouldn't look at me, I rested the barest tip of a claw under his chin, guiding his eyes to meet mine. "I am furious, but not at you. Never at you, do you understand?" The elevator dinged, opening into a nondescript hallway directly in front of my door. I stepped out first, holding the elevator so Gavin could follow.

"We should continue this conversation inside," I offered, simultaneously swiping my key card and opening my front door. Again, I entered first to hold the door for the little słoneczko, but when he stepped inside, I noticed that he immediately shrank in on himself again. I toed off my shoes out of habit - placing them in the shoe rack nearby - and offered Gavin a place, too. But my guest seemed frozen in place. "Gavin?" I asked, confused, "Is everything all right?"

"Y-Yeah, sure. M-Maybe. I don't - " His eyes flicked down at his feet again, and I saw his toes scrunch up through the torn fabric of his sneakers before muttering, "I can't get comfortable with your million-dollar floor and these nasty-ass dollar store socks, is all."

"Your socks...?" I peered down again, noticing that through the holes in his shoes, his bare footpaws showed through in some dirt-stained and threadbare parts of the garments. I realized, then, the way the scent of grimy fabric mixed with his sweat to overwhelm the antiseptic scent of my home. Another pang of guilt shot through me - here I was, who had so much, by no more skill than the fact I had lived an unusually long life. And he was so young, but so full of a hunger for life despite the many, many foul hands fate had dealt him.

What had I been doing this last decade? I could have been out in the world, experiencing it, perhaps doing some good. But I was wallowing in a misery entirely of my design instead.

In short? I had been a complete fool.

"It... it is all right." I said, speaking softly, hoping to soothe his clearly frazzled nerves. "You will not offend me if you leave your shoes on, but I will likewise promise you that the floor will be perfectly unharmed, no matter the condition of your socks."

Gavin nodded, then took a deep breath. "C-Can... can I..." His face stayed down-turned, but his eyes flicked up to meet mine. "Can I... keep my shoes on?"

I frowned. That question didn't seem to be what he'd truly wanted to ask. It made no sense - after all, I'd just told him he could do so if he wished. But, while I wasn't the most socially adept dragon that had ever walked the Earth, I had occasional moments of good discretion.

Smiling and acknowledging the question he had asked was choosing not to battle. It seemed to be the right call, as he relaxed a bit and let me lead him through the suite. It was large, over five thousand square feet. I showed him the solarium first, with its wall of glass and multiple skylights to let in the sun at all hours of the day. Then the guest rooms, each with their own unique theme and fully furnished. I skipped my room, though. Pointed it out, to be sure, but I wasn't quite ready to put that much of myself on display.

We ended up in the open floor plan kitchen, taking our seats at the eat-in dining nook. "Well?" I said, suddenly anxious. "Ah, w-what did you think?"

Gavin looked nervous, too. "It was very... clean?" I felt the corners of my mouth turn down, and his eyes widened as he hastily added, "Clean is good! Nothing wrong with clean. It's just, well..." The stoat brought a knuckle to his mouth and bit down, taking a steadying breath before whispering, "There wasn't any color. That was, er, honestly a little freaky."

"Color?" I blinked rapidly a few times. "I thought black, grey, white, and tan were quite neutral colors, so everyone would enjoy them."

"Sh'yeah, about as much as people enjoy plain oatmeal," he chuckled. "It gets the job done, but nobody's excited about it. But it's more than that, y'know?" Gavin had released some of that tension when he was laughing at me, but he suddenly went stiff and straight as a board, and blurted out, "Oh-my-GOD I am so, so sorry. I don't know where that came from! Your place is great, it's swanky, it really is, and like, what do I know anyway? I'm like, dirt compared to you and - "

I slammed my palms against the white laminate tabletop hard enough to crack it, growling as I went. Gavin made a little 'eep!' sound and clapped his paws over his mouth to stem the words pouring forth from it. I immediately softened my gaze - I truly had not meant to scare him, just get his attention.

Well, now I have it. I had better use it.

I slowly reached out my paws, palms up, and beckoned Gavin with the tips of my fingers. My guest's eyes darted from my hands, to me, back to my hands, repeating a few times before he ever so slowly—painfully slowly—slid his paws into mine. I gently closed my fingers over his hands, my massive paws completely encapsulating his.

"Gavin," I said, my voice the barest whisper. I had to whisper, because I was terrified anything louder would spook him like a flighty horse in a thunderstorm. "Gavin, I am not mad that you disliked my interior design. I am mad at myself."

The stoat gave a little sniffle. Fuck. I've made him cry, now. I was about to withdraw my hands and offer an apology, but Gavin tightened his grip on me even as he glanced away. "Why... why would you be mad at yourself? I had to have done something, I know it!"

"Nie! You do nothing wrong!" I said, a little more forcefully than I intended. I cleared my throat. "S-Sorry. English less perfect when I get angry. Not angry at you, słoneczko!" I quickly assured him. "Angry at me, because you are guest, and… and…"

Words were failing me, so I stood up in a huff. Grabbing the bottle of expensive nothing liquor, I took two long pulls directly from the bottle before replacing the stopper and sitting back down. The pleasantly warm feeling spread throughout my throat and down into my chest and stomach, and I sighed in relief.

"Sorry. Needed to calm my nerves." I chuckled weakly while rubbing the back of my head. "Now, look here. I am not angry at you; I am angry at myself. You are my honored guest, and despite my best efforts, I haven't convinced you that you belong here. Instead, you think that somehow, because you have less money, less fancy things, this makes you less than me."

I reached out to pat his shoulder, and this time, he sighed and leaned into the touch. "Hear this - you are never lesser than me. Than anyone. All of... this," I waved my hand around, gesturing vaguely at our surroundings, "is simply the result of a very, very long life." Catching his eye, I gave him my warmest smile. It felt a little rusty on my face, but he smiled back, so I considered it a win. "Gavin. I think you were going to say something about my decor before all of, well... everything. Please. Tell me honestly."

He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, wringing his hands. "I mean, sure. If you're sure." Pursing his lips, Gavin took a deep breath and held it for a beat before letting it all out in a rush. "It's just not... you, not really. It's just too clean. Too sterile. You're a little more... eccentric?"

He looked unsure at that, but when I winked at him, his ears pinked and he continued. "I mean, I don't know what I expected. Maybe like a throne? Or at least a couple throw pillows. A collection of novelty plates? There's just no personality in here. That's..." he paused, swallowing hard and looking at his folded paws on the table. "That's what I was going to say."

He looked so fragile, like he was ready for me to growl, or snap, or roar at him for his insolence. Gavin jolted in his seat when I let loose with a deep belly laugh that echoed throughout the kitchen. I laughed until my sides were sore and tears were running down my face.

Somewhere along the way, Gavin's mouth twitched as he lost his composure and joined me. It was a truly joyous sound that rang clear as a bell alongside my deeper rumblings. I recovered first, wiping my eyes and settling back in my chair. My guest was still chuckling, and I took a moment to just observe him.

His jacket had fallen off his shoulders. Was it a few sizes too big, perhaps? But it revealed that his faded black t-shirt, which was also too large, had slipped off one shoulder as well. It revealed a tempting swath of plush, pure white fur. However, there was something... off about it all.

Despite his thick fur, his collarbone jutted out at a harsh angle from his chest. And now that I was looking more closely, I could see he wasn’t just slim—he was gaunt. His cheeks were hollow, as were his eyes, and his hands were so bony they were nearly skeletal.

A flush of heat filled my cheeks as my stomach filled with lead. Nie… to niemożliwe. Impossible. How had I not noticed this immediately? And how had I let this happen? In my city, in my office, in my gods-damned kitchen?!

When he tried to force a louder laugh to cover up the growling of his stomach, I shot to my feet. Three long strides had me in front of my freezer, and it was the work of but a moment to open it and pluck a bag of food out of it.

"Um, Janek?" Gavin's voice called out, sounding confused. "What are you doing?"

I brought out a pot and started filling it with water. "You are hungry."

The stoat laughed, but it was shrill and manic. "What?! No, no I'm not. I mean, sure, but that's like, all the time. It's no big deal. I'm used to it, it's fine."

And those last words hit me like a claw to the gut. "I'm used to it, it's fine."

No. That was absolutely not fine. He shouldn't have to be used to starving to death!

I lit the burner and put the water on to boil. Ripping open the bag, I eyed the thirty-odd meat-filled pierogi inside.

How many would he eat?

No, it didn't matter. I would make him eat, and eat, until I had to pick him up and carry him - stuffed beyond measure - to one of the guest beds.

I couldn't fix the world anymore. The world had become too big a place for any one dragon to save it.

But Gavin... he fed me. When he was starving, when he had nothing, he fed me. And now he was here. In my house, in my kitchen, at my table.

Just this once, right now, in this moment, I could help.

One person, just one... it wasn't the world, of course, but it just might be possible.

The water boiled, and I emptied the bag into the water.

I know I can't fix everything.

But this, Gavin.

I can do this for you.

—
Gavin
—

What even is my life right now?

I'm sitting at a real dining table. It's gorgeous, perfect except for the little cracks from where Janek smacked it earlier. In a fancier kitchen than I've ever seen, not even in movies. And there's an insanely buff lizard man at the stove, and the sanitizer doesn't quite hide the fact that he smells like sage, and pine, and real leather - not the fake stuff that I wear to perform. And that one fancy British tea Alisha liked. Earl... something.

I shouldn't be here. I don't belong here. Not with my ripped-up sneakers, and my pit stains, and my three-for-five pair of socks that I still can't afford to replace.

I feel like I'm going to leave a stain on this man's property just by breathing in here.

And this swole pharma mogul is standing in front of a copper-bottomed pot that probably cost more than my car, pouring... is that pasta? Maybe. Well, he's pouring it into the water. The man is cooking for me like we're roommates or something.

No, that's not right. Not even Todd and Alisha ever cooked for me with the laser focus he's got right now. I'm a stranger, and nobody cooks for a stranger with that kind of intensity unless they want something, right?

That's how the world works, y'know? You don't get shit without giving something up in return. I've been taught that lesson over and over again. The label exec, my parents - hell, even Todd and Alisha with their move-out deadline. Love has limits. It has rules. It always runs out, eventually.

And there's always a price.

So, what's this guy's angle? There's gotta be one. Some catch that he's going to drop the moment I let my guard down.

But...

But he hasn't pushed me. I have to give him that much credit, right? He didn't push me when I was ready to run away, not when I freaked out at the elevator, not even when I made fun of his furniture. He's just been... there. Calm. Soft.

He's been kind.

And back at the orchard, when I split the apple. I don't think he was faking... well, I don't know what that was, really. But he was so god-damn gentle. Grounded. It was like he just realized the world was a good place and finally remembered how to see it.

He's so weird. Like, really weird. But maybe he isn't bad? At least, maybe not the worst?

Still, I should keep my guard up. I will not be used.

Never again.

Something thumped against the table, startling me back to reality. I blinked down at what had to be a serving bowl filled with some sort of dumplings, alongside a bowl of sour cream. "Jan?" I glanced up at him, confused. "What is all this?"

He pushed over a mug of tea that had been hiding behind the bowl. "Pierogi," he said, matter-of-factly. "These have meat filling. Good with sour cream."

"Wait... are these supposed to be for me?" He nodded, and I couldn't hide the panic in my voice as I half-shouted at him. "N-No! No, I can't, I can't! That food's yours; I can't eat it. You should—"

Jan cut me off with a raised hand. "I am not hungry. It is already cooked, and it will go to waste if it doesn't get eaten." He set some silverware beside me before sitting across from me again. "Besides, I have plenty. We both could eat this much for every meal for over a week without ever leaving the house once." Jan nudged the bowl a little closer to me, and a soft, almost shy smile crept across his face. This time, it definitely crinkled the corners of his eyes. "This is all for you. Just for you. Please—it would make me very happy to see you eat until you are truly full."

That last sentence barely registered, because his shy smile had short-circuited my brain.

Cute.

What the...?

Oh no. No, no, no-no-no.

How the actual fuck is he so cute?!

Well, if he was going to be all cute and shy and cook a massive pile of food for me, I wouldn't be an asshole over it. I picked up the fork, eyeing the mass of steaming dumplings with some apprehension. "You're sure? Really, really sure?"

Jan just nodded, so I dipped my fork in. I skewered two on my first go, bringing them to my mouth. The things were still steaming hot, so I blew on them a few times before I took a small bite.

Chew, chew, chew. Swallow.

"Oh!" I quickly stuffed the rest of the pierogi on my fork into my mouth. "Thar' gud!" I mumbled around mouth full of food.

Good didn't cut it. I dipped the next one in the sour cream he'd left, and it was even more heavenly. Salty, savory, fatty, with the cool bite of the dairy to cut through it all. I ate two, then five, then suddenly half the bowl was gone.

With the edge of my hunger taken off, I slowed down. Only a bit, though - those little guys were damn tasty. Best thing I'd had in years. Hell, maybe ever.

Through it all, Jan just sat there. Watching. His chin propped up on his hands, studying me like I was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen, that smile of his never fading a single bit.

I haven't felt this comfortable in a long, long time. This warm.

This... this cared for.

Holy shit. This is nice.

My eyes suddenly grew hot and tingly, and I sniffled a little bit as my nose ran. Oh, fuck no you don't, Gavin Russel! You will not cry in front of this man! I bit the inside of my cheek, hard, until the heat passed and I could breathe again.

Things kind of got blurry after that. I was pretty tired from work earlier, and I hadn't been sleeping too good recently. Jan refilled my tea at some point, I know that. I remember because I asked what kind it was, because it was good as shit. And I remember him saying it was Earl Gray. It really was delicious, with the honey he put in it.

Warm, too. Just like him.

Smells good. Just like him.

I carefully set my fork in the bowl when I was done. I don't know how I did it, but I ate every single one of those fuckers. Leaning back in my chair, I patted my stomach and was mortified when I let out a massive burp. "Sorry..." I said, rubbing the back of my neck, but Jan just cracked up and swiped the bowls away, placing them in his gleaming stainless steel dishwasher.

"T-Thanks..." I said, head drooping. Man, I can not be passing out at some random dude's house that I barely know. But he's been so good. Good to me. Maybe... maybe I can just...

"Hey..." I bit my lip, hesitating. Was I even capable of doing something so stupid, so fucking selfish? I yawned so hard my jaw popped. Fuck it. "Jan? C'n I jus'... mebbe, like, s-s-stay - "

Another yawn conquered me, and I sagged in the chair. I was full, and comfortable, and warm, and god-damn it, yes, I was happy. My eyes drifted shut, and the last thing I felt was someone picking me up and carrying me off, like a princess in some fairy tale.

It reminded me of the way I felt when my gramma used to wrap me up in one of her old quilts by the fire. Or maybe that one and only time mom made me soup when I was sick. Maybe it was more like that one time Todd and Alisha built a blanket fort and pulled me into it all night long after my last break-up.

"Hush now, maleńka. Don’t worry about all that." Was it my imagination, or did Jan just squeeze me? What was that right now? A hug? "I have room. Sleep, słoneczko, sunshine, and be well."

Fuck. Was that Polish, too? It really didn't matter, because I could feel the deep bass of his voice buzzing through his chest. He squeezed me again and started humming that lullaby from the taxi. His rumbling, the warmth of his body, even those stupid little hugs... I gave up resisting.

Cradled in Janek's brawny arms, I knew. Whatever that feeling was - the quilt, the soup, the blanket fort... well, I still had no clue what to call it. But one thing I knew, deep in my soul, was that I wanted more of it.

I melted against him, letting sleep claim me.

—

Janek

—

My heart. My poor heart. It aches for my little sun.

He was so light in my arms; it was like holding a cloud. Soft and fluffy, but barely there at all. How many meals had he missed? How many times had he fed others, only to go hungry himself?

Would he have lasted much longer?

Nie. That didn't bear thinking about. He was here now. Fed and warm and asleep.

Asleep in my arms...

I paused in front of the bed. I'd taken him to the guest room closest to my bedroom. They actually adjoined to each other with a connecting door that only locked from the guest's side. I thought it would make him feel safest if he woke up without me.

I scanned the gently snoring bundle of fur in my arms, giving him another small hug. There was no way to know if he'd remember it, but I did it all the same. Słoneczko, maleńka… where were all these pet names coming from? I barely knew the boy. But he was so soft, so kind, so self-destructively selfless... In a very short amount of time, he occupied all of my thoughts. Gavin was precious to me, somehow.

Too soon. Too much. Let him take the lead, for once in your pig-headed life.

I laid him on the bed, resting his head on the soft pillow, before drawing up the heavy blankets and tucking him in. And then I stood there for a while, just watching him sleep. It was marvelous, seeing him so gentled, so unburdened. Before I could think better of it, I reached out and brushed his hair away from his eyes. It was incredibly soft, and silky smooth.

It was something I'd always envied about my furred brethren - their invariably fluffy coats. My scales were always warm to the touch, but most found them too rough to touch with any frequency. I wondered for a moment whether Gavin would think them too rough. What his paw would feel like running over the scales on my palm, my wrist, my arm, my bicep...

With as much speed as I could muster without waking the stoat, I yanked my hand away. Bad, bad dragon! He is a guest! And fragile as a sugar sculpture to boot. You will not think about such things!

Still, my fingers twitched, missing the sensation of fur on scales as I walked away and into my room. Stripping out of my dress shirt, I tossed it into the corner as I let out an almighty yawn. I hadn't properly slept in... fuck, days. I hadn't felt the need to. But something about this afternoon had done me in. Unbuckling my slacks, I shimmied out of them before pulling off my socks, leaving me in just a pair of dark red boxer briefs.

Two long steps, and I was falling into my custom-sized bed. The stout firmness was something I'd insisted on for my personal sleeping quarters. I didn't sleep on a physical hoard anymore - hadn't in decades. But there was something about a nice, hard mattress that scratched the same itch. I had some wonderfully heavy bedding to crawl under, though. The A/C in this part of the building worked perhaps a little too well, and I was a dragon, after all. I liked things toasty-warm.

The coziness of my bed was nothing compared to the warmth I felt from feeding Gavin, though. It was honestly astounding to see him put away that entire bowl of pierogi, even though I made them specifically to see him eat his fill. But more than that, he'd loved them. It was such a simple dish, but I enjoyed them too. They reminded me of my mother, and cold winter nights sat by the fire. It was good that he liked them - I'd have to see if I could remember how to make them from scratch.

"Tha - tha's something to think about," I mumbled to myself, yawning. Sleep was fast approaching, and I knew I wouldn't be able to resist much longer.

So, I didn't. I just closed my eyes, burrowed into the covers, and let myself drift off.

...

A shout woke me from the deepest sleep I'd had in years.

I sat bolt upright in my bed, my heart pounding. The house was silent, not a sound but for the quiet hum of the A/C. Had I dreamed it? But it sounded so real, and so... frightened? I -

"!"

Shit! There it was again, louder this time, and...

"Oh, fuck!" I hissed under my breath. It was coming from the guest room!

I dashed out of bed, nearly slipping on the tile as I raced to Gavin's side. I'd left the door shut, but I hadn't locked it, so I flung it open to see what was wrong.

Gavin thrashed under the heavy blankets, drenched in sweat and mumbling something soft and unintelligible. What was going on? Was he sick?

No, you idiot, I thought to myself. He's having a nightmare.

I stalked closer, not wanting to startle him too badly, but when I got to the bed, I had no choice but to either wake him up, or let him continue this clearly awful dream. So, I reached out to touch his shoulder, gently shaking him. "Gavin? Gavin, wake u—"

The little stoat's eyes flew open, and he gasped, breathing deeply. "What—where am I?!"

"It's okay, it's okay! You're safe," I soothed, backing away. "It was just a nightmare. You're in one of my guest rooms, and I... oof!"

Gavin hurled himself out of bed and wrapped his arms around my neck, pressing himself against my bare chest. I froze—I didn't much enjoy being touched at the best of times, and I was about to try peeling him off me when I heard a noise that shattered my heart into a thousand tiny pieces.

My little sun, my słoneczko, sobbed into my chest—a great wrenching, choking sound that activated my most basic instincts. I scooped Gavin up in my arms for the second time today, cradling him against me while rocking him as gently as I could. He cried and cried. Tears soaked my chest, hot and heartbreaking. They tickled, but I didn't mind. I steadied my breath, held him to me, and began humming that old, old lullaby once more.

Soon, I would ask him what was wrong. Soon, I would fix whatever had happened.

But for now, he cried, I held him, and I hummed.

After a handful of minutes, his tears gave way to little squeaking hiccups and rough sniffles. I moved again to put him down, but he grunted and shook his head, burrowing against me. What could I do? I turned, sitting on the side of the bed he'd been in just moments before, and with a slow, hesitant paw, I stroked his hair again. "Gavin?" I breathed out my words, keeping my voice as low as I could. "Will you tell me what is the matter? Please?"

He swallowed so hard I could hear the click, and cleared his throat. "N-No... not right now." He sighed and sagged against me. "Maybe sometime, though. Man... I'm fuckin' tired."

Nodding, I reluctantly started lowering him to the bed again, but he clung to me still, grumbling, "Mmn, no... Can I like, sleep on the floor?" He slithered out of my arms and sat on the edge of the bed, blinking owlishly. "It's uh, a nice bed and all, but it's so soft that it's stressing me out. I can't get comfortable."

"Too... soft?" Was that possible? What kind of life led to the floor feeling safer, more comfortable, than a warm bed? And the floor was no place to place a guest, damn it! "I, ah, don't have any firmer beds. But you can't seriously want to sleep on the floor, no?"

"S'fine," he mumbled. "I do it all the time at home. It's not much different than my futon."

He yawned widely, showing his teeth, and when he looked up at me again, he looked startled. I must have failed to school my features, because what he had said was abjectly horrifying. "What the... I... no!" I shook my head vehemently. "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to sleep on the floor. How awful!" Wracking my brain for any alternative, I could only think of one. But would he go for it? Or would he misunderstand, think it was too much, too forward again?

Hmm. Maybe I didn't have to tell him it was mine... "I... do have one more bed, actually. Firmer. Much firmer, in fact. But it's in a, well... it's in a room I'd prefer you not, ah, touch anything in. Okay?"

Gavin nodded, yawning again as he slid to the floor, socked feet landing solidly on the tile. "Rock on, lizard man. Sounds great."

Lizard...? I grumbled at the very notion that I was some common garden reptile. The sheer indignity! I had razed kingdoms for lesser insults. But... oh.

Oh, my.

But then Gavin was leaning against me, body still hot from sleep, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath before letting out a contented sigh.

Shit.

What was wrong with me? I was sick, that was it. Why else would my palms be sweaty, my neck clammy, my stomach twisted up in knots?

I must be unwell. I simply had to be. There could be no other explanation.

Right?

—
Gavin
—

At some point, I was gonna wake up and realize this was all a dream.

A really vivid, really embarrassing dream.

Why else would a hunky lizard, who smelled like tea and leather and fresh green things, be looking at me with eyes that kind? Why, when I stumbled over my heavy feet, would he pick me up in his arms like I weighed nothing, carry me to the next room over, and lay me in a bigger bed than I'd ever seen?

It had to be a dream. No real person would ever take my gross-ass shoes off for me, or peel off my two-day-old socks with the soft tenderness reserved for someone precious. They wouldn't pull a blanket that smelled just like them over me, or tuck it around me so that the almost crushing weight of it wrapped me up like a warm - if overenthusiastic - hug.

I'd never felt this cared for. Not since Gramma and Grandpa died, at least. God, how old was I? Eight? Nine?

Now I was twenty-six - nearly twenty-seven - and some random guy with more money than sense hummed that same quiet lullaby while he fluffed up pillows and turned on a fan. Doing everything he could to make me comfortable in this space where I had no business belonging.

Yeah. Definitely a dream.

Oh well. At least that means I dreamed of hugging the guy. And crying like a little baby into his chest. There's no way I'd do that to someone who was basically a stranger, right?

A very nice stranger. Nicer than anyone you've met in a long time, Gavin.

My eyesight was already blurry with sleep, but they fluttered shut anyway as Jan dimmed the lights. He whispered something about being outside if I needed anything, and then I heard his footsteps padding away and the click of a door.

"Thanks..." I mumbled, too late. There's no way he heard me, not with exhaustion muddying my voice. God, how long had it been since I slept for over three hours at a time? Stress, working as many odd jobs as I could get at all hours of the day and night, and the constant background noise of hunger. That taco was the first thing I'd eaten in two days, and I only got them because the manager gave me a discount for wearing the costume.

At least Jan seemed to like them. Maybe it would be enough to make us even for the dumplings he made for me earlier. Those had been delicious, too. And he made me so many! I couldn't believe I finished them all, and I really hoped that made us even.

I couldn't end up owing anyone anything.

My jaw popped, I yawned so hard, and I snuggled down into the perfectly solid mattress. Maybe I could worry about all that later.

For now, I'd let the dream continue.

Just a few more minutes...

—

Waking up came slowly to me. It was luxurious, really, letting myself linger in that place between awake and asleep, nowhere to be, nothing to do. The heavy blanket still weighed me down—I'd slept so deeply that I didn't even move an inch. Cracking my eyes open, I yawned and stretched, smacking my lips. I'd need to find some water soon, but for now, I—

Oh, shit! My eyes caught sight of a golden crown, covered in sparkling red and green jewels, sitting on a pedestal across the room. It sat under a glass case like you'd see in a museum, above a little platform that held gold chains dripping with even more of the gems. The shock of it sat me bolt upright, blanket falling down to my waist as I gawked. There was no way those were real, right?

I scanned the room, my eyes falling on more pedestals of varying sizes, set in rings around the bed I'd slept in. One held shining silver necklaces set with blue gems, another a large scrap of fabric that had a dragon on it, and one had a massive ceramic jug that looked... well, compared to everything else, it was honestly pretty boring. Red clay, a fine crack running the length of it. Mostly, it was just enormous.

There had to be over two dozen objects. Maybe three? Most of them were shiny and sparkly, but a few, like the jug, seemed out of place.

What the hell. Did I pass out in a museum?

My lips smacked again. Damn, I was thirsty as hell. Slipping out of bed, my socked feet hit the tile floor, and I was pleasantly surprised to find it was warm. Moneybags must have sprung for heated floors, something I'd only ever heard about on HGTV home renovation shows. There were two doorways. One was open, and in the dim light I could see a sink and a toilet in the room beyond.

So, if that was a bathroom, the other one must lead to the rest of the apartment. Great, I thought, and started toward the closed door. The kitchen couldn't be that hard to find, right?

But when I opened it, I froze in my tracks. Jan slumped against the wall opposite the door, chin resting on his chest, legs splayed straight out in front of him.

"Holy fuck!" I yelped, rushing towards him. Shit, what if he was sick? Dude was massive, I knew he should've eaten something earlier! I kneeled beside him and shook one thickly muscled shoulder. "Jan? Jan?! You okay? Can you hear me?"

The man just grunted, and I swear I saw a puff of green smoke from his nose as he blinked lazily and stretched. "Mmmn. Good morning, słoneczko," Jan mumbled.

Oh. He'd just been asleep.

On the floor? In his office clothes?

But he smiled at me like this wasn't the weirdest thing I'd ever seen. "Did you sleep better this time?"

"Ah," I croaked, throat suddenly dry and raspy. "Y-Yeah. This time...?"

"No nightmares?" A scaled paw stretched out toward my face, but fell away instantly when I pulled back. "Sorry," Jan whispered. "Force of habit."

Part of me was relieved he'd retracted so fast. But a smaller, more tender part of me really wished he hadn't. "No, you're good, I just—wait. Nightmares?" Lead filled the pit of my stomach, and I straight-up flinched. "Fuck. That actually happened? I, like, hugged you?"

Jan nodded, looking confused, and I let my shoulders slump as I sighed. "Damn it. That's so lame. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." I let out a bitter laugh. "That's my big secret, yeah? I'm just a pathetic, weepy loser who—ack!"

Lizard brains rushed me, scooping me up and lifting me off my feet in a crushing hug. "Nie! Not a loser. Never." One more squeeze, then he settled me down, standing in front of him with his paws on my shoulders. "Crying is healthy. Embarrassing, sometimes, yes, but healthy. You do not need to apologize to me. I wish..." Now he stared down at his feet. "I wish I felt strongly like you. It is... good."

"What?" I blinked. "Naw, man, you don't want to feel like this. Trust me."

He shrugged, his paws dropping away, and I abruptly missed the warm weight of them. "Hm. Agree to disagree." Then he gestured down the hall. "Would you like something to drink?"

I nodded vigorously, and he led me back to his massive kitchen. Jan sat me down at the table again before pulling down two massive glasses and filling them with an amber liquid from the fridge. He set one in front of me before settling into the chair opposite me and taking a long pull from his glass. "Ahh," he sighed, leaning back. "Drink! It is good. Apple juice, made from the apples you had earlier."

I took a careful sip, then had to restrain myself from gulping down the whole thing. It was delicious, sweet and crisp and just a little tart. I had two or three big swallows anyway before coming up for air. "Wow!" I gasped, grinning like an idiot at the big guy. "This is fuckin' great, man! I can't believe you grow the apples for this right here in the city. What do I owe you?"

He tilted his head away from me, scratching at his cheek with one claw. Was he... shy?! "It is a gift," he murmured, "one I am happy to share with you."

And something I hadn't felt in a long time washed over me, like a warm blanket being draped over my shoulders. I stopped thinking three steps ahead. Stopped thinking about what came next, stopped feeling that constant driving need for control.

It was just me, and this weird, kinda awesome lizard man, with his shy smiles and kind hands and eyes that glowed in the dark. Sipping a tall glass of icy cold apple juice and looking at me like I was actually worth a damn.

"Can I stay here?"

The words were out of my mouth before I even had time to think about it. And I said it so earnestly, so desperately, that I knew I had to play it off. Even though I could feel, deep down, that I meant every word.

Jan had frozen mid-sip, so still it was eerie, and I started rambling. "No, I mean, not really! Like, I don't know where I'm gonna go, sure, but that's not your problem. I've got a car, and I can get a gym membership or something for showers. It won't be the first time I've been homeless, you really shouldn't have to put up with—"

And it was my turn to freeze, mouth hanging open, as Jan's smooth, scaly paw slid over my own and gave it a tender - almost loving - squeeze. "Yes," he blurted. "Yes, you can stay." I stared at him, mouth still catching flies, totally unable to even blink. Because if I blinked, this moment might pass, might really be a dream this time, and I didn't know if I could handle it if I'd made something this incredible, or this unlikely, up.

"Gavin, you can stay. As long, or as short, as you like." Jan's voice dropped almost an entire octave, and the bass rumble of it vibrated in my chest. Finally, I blinked, my eyes stinging and hot from being open for so long.

At least, that's what I told myself. I absolutely wasn't about to cry in front of this man.

Again.

Nope. No way.

I couldn't help but sniffle, though, and I rubbed my eyes in what I hoped was a subtle way. "Thanks," I murmured, my face and ears heating and going tingly.

There was more I should've said right then. Something I should've told this insane, incredible man, who took me in and fed me and gave me a bed and let me stay in his million-dollar apartment without a second thought and asking nothing in return.

There was so, so much I could've said. But right at that moment, I couldn't come up with a single word. Feelings that I didn't have names for had been pulled loose, and all I could think was that I didn't want to leave.

Not yet.

Maybe not at all.

—
To be continued...
—

page

100

page

101

page

102

page

103

page

104

page

105

page

106

page

107

page

108

page

109

page

110

page

111

page

112

page

113

page

114

page

115

page

116

page

117

page

118

page

119

page

120

page

121

page

122

page

123

page

124

page

125

page

126

page

127

page

128

page

129

page

130

page

131

page

132

page

133

page

134

page

135

page

136

page

137

page

138

page

139

page

140

page

141

page

142

page

143

page

144

page

145

page

146

page

147

page

148

page

149

page

150

page

151

page

152

page

153

page

154

page

155

page

156

page

157

page

158

page

159

page

160

page

161

page

162

page

163

page

164

page

165

page

166

page

167

page

168

page

169

page

170

page

171

page

172

page

173

page

174

page

175

page

176

page

177

page

178

page

179

page

180

page

181

page

182

page

183

page

184

page

185

page

186

page

187

page

188

page

189

page

190

page

191

page

192

page

193

page

194

page

195

page

196

page

197

page

198

page

199

page

200

page

100

page

101

page

102

page

103

page

104

page

105

page

106

page

107

page

108

page

109

page

110

page

111

page

112

page

113

page

114

page

115

page

116

page

117

page

118

page

119

page

120

page

121

page

122

page

123

page

124

page

125

page

126

page

127

page

128

page

129

page

130

page

131

page

132

page

133

page

134

page

135

page

136

page

137

page

138

page

139

page

140

page

141

page

142

page

143

page

144

page

145

page

146

page

147

page

148

page

149

page

150

page

151

page

152

page

153

page

154

page

155

page

156

page

157

page

158

page

159

page

160

page

161

page

162

page

163

page

164

page

165

page

166

page

167

page

168

page

169

page

170

page

171

page

172

page

173

page

174

page

175

page

176

page

177

page

178

page

179

page

180

page

181

page

182

page

183

page

184

page

185

page

186

page

187

page

188

page

189

page

190

page

191

page

192

page

193

page

194

page

195

page

196

page

197

page

198

page

199

page

200

Inkbunny

The Weight of Warmth - Modern Mythics Part 2

Help

Information

Policy & Legal