My Little Sunshine - Modern Mythics P3 by BrigantineW < Submission

Keywords male 1212557, dragon 151504, male/male 127668, sfw 29596, story 14255, mustelid 9410, romance 9209, stoat 2363, story progression 2040, gay relationships 2004, story series 1966, slice of life 1809, gay relationship 1289, dating 696, slow burn 171, slice-of-life 139

—
Janek
—

"Can I stay?"

Gavin's words, impulsive and rushed and a little bit frightened, hung in the air, heavy as a fog. They set my mind reeling, apple juice dribbling down my shirt as I froze mid-sip.

Had I imagined it? Gavin... wanted to stay... here? With me?

I've never really had a guest stay here before. I've had business luncheons, catered the annual company Christmas party, even had a masquerade ball for Halloween at Kat's insistence (she dressed as the Masque of the Red Death, and won best costume).

But nobody has ever really, actually, stayed. The guest rooms were functional, yes, but the maids had been in them more than anyone else ever had. What would having a guest even look like?

A vision, crystal clear, floods into my mind. Me, waking up early to make breakfast for Gavin and myself before my morning R&D meeting. Gavin, munching sleepily on a warm apple pancake, all muzzy with sleep from staying up late at a show the night before. His excited chatter, telling me about how well the performance went, hair sticking up every which way, as we sip on some juice and while away the time.

Someone new in my space. Someone to warm the cold, sterile air. Another perspective, another life.

The domesticity of it made my heart lurch in my chest. It was utter bliss, and I'd have given my entire hoard to make that scene real, even for a moment.

"—It won't be the first time I've been homeless, you really shouldn't have to put up with—"

Wha—homeless?! No! I'd never moved so fast in my life, my paw wrapping around Gavin's to give it a gentle squeeze. "Yes." It wasn't even a thought. The words tumbled out of me, my heart bypassing my brain entirely. "Yes, you can stay."

Gavin froze now, his mouth hanging open in a perfect little 'O'. His eyes - a stunning, vibrant blue, I realized - looked glossy, and he gasped in deep lungfuls of my cool, climate-controlled air. The silence grew between us, yawning like a chasm, and I wondered if he'd heard me. "Gavin," I continued, "you can stay. As long, or as short as you like."

I knew better than to call attention to the way he sniffled or the way he swiped at his eyes. "Thanks," he whispered, looking away with a tiny hint of a grin.

We sat in a more comfortable silence now. Me smiling at him; him smiling and thinking he was hiding it from me. It probably would've gone on for a while longer, if I hadn't realized that I was rubbing the soft fur on the back of his hand with my thumb like some creep.

I yanked my paw away like he'd burned me. "Ah! Is there anything you need for your stay here? Anything at all is on the table here. Say the word, and I'll make it happen."

Gavin hummed for a moment. "Well, I'll need some clothes. Oh, and my guitar! I have a gig coming up in a few days."

Nodding, my mind racing with plans, I said, "I can have a tailor here first thing in the morning. And I know nothing about guitars, but I'm certain I could get a good one here in time for—"

But Gavin was shaking his head, flapping his paws about in protest. "No, no, no! That's way too much! I've got plenty of stuff back ho—I mean, back at my friend's place."

His friend's place? Not 'home'? Did he really mean it when he said he was about to be homeless? If things were that dire, he was more in need of rescuing than I'd assumed. "It's truly no imposition," I hedged, "but if that's what you want, I'll arrange a car to drive us in the morning."

The too-thin stoat leaned back in his chair with a resigned sigh. "I guess it would be weird to make you take the bus," Gavin mumbled. "And I guess... well, fine. I'll let you order me one set of clothes, to wear out tomorrow—one, y'hear?!"

I was already absently tapping the screen of the tablet I kept in a drawer by the table. "Certainly! Just one. Off the rack will have to do for now, I suppose... what are your sizes?"

—
Gavin
—

Somewhere between tacos and pierogi, I blinked, and fell into a fairy tale.

I'm sitting at the dining room table of Mr. Moneybags, holes in my socks and crusty all over from sweat, grimy with dirt, and he's acting like this is something he does all the time—taking in scrawny twinks and playing house with them.

He's grinning like a cheshire cat, tapping away at his tablet, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over what I assume are the clothes he's going to buy me.

Fuck, I'm going to wind up with a god-damn suit, aren't I?

I should've asked to use his washing machine instead.

But no, that would've been the sensible thing. Although I don't remember seeing a washer or dryer anywhere when he took me on that brief tour earlier. Does he even have one?

"And... done!" Jan turned that toothy grin at me, and I gave him what was probably a shaky little smile back. "So, what would you like to do now? If you're still tired, you may sleep some more. Otherwise, I..." That smile faded into something a bit more forced. "Well, I am uncertain what we'd do. I, ah, don't do much entertaining."

I peered around him, past the open kitchen into a living room that held a massive - and I mean it, thing was fuckin' huge - flatscreen TV in front of a sofa made from natural wood and white leather. "Well, I'm not tired anymore. Not yet, at least. Wanna watch a movie or something?"

Jan blinked. "It's nearly eleven at night. I'd have to check the listings, but I'm sure we could arrange tickets to—"

This guy was going to be the death of me. I cracked up, standing to walk past him and slugging him in the shoulder on my way. "No, you doofus. I meant on your TV. Thing's so big it needs its own ZIP code, so a movie theater's pointless." I padded over to the couch and picked up the remote from his office-chic white plastic coffee table, clicking on the screen as I flopped right onto the middle cushion.

When a shadow loomed over me, I looked up to see Jan staring down at me, unblinking, with a slight frown on his face. "Uh, s-sorry," I stammered, suddenly unsure. "We can do something else—"

"This... can play movies?" Jan's voice creaked like he was shaking off a thousand years of dust. The scales on his cheeks darkened in a blush as he looked away. "I've never used a television before. Kat - my friend - made me buy it. I always thought it better to go out and see a picture, instead of sitting around doing nothing at home."

Pinching someone's cheeks and cooing at them always seemed pretty cringey, but my God, the man was clueless. So fuckin' adorable. I patted the cushion beside me. "C'mon, sit! Lemme show you what this baby can do." It took a minute to get the controls figured out, but I was thrilled to see that the TV had streaming built into it. I signed into the one movie subscription I budgeted for, wiggling in anticipation as Jan eased onto the seat next to me.

"Do you like classic movies? Oh! What about musicals?" I bounced in my seat as I met his eyes again, and they flashed that beautiful green again as he cast his gaze over me.

"I like a good story," he murmured. "Pick anything you want. I'm sure I'll enjoy it, too."

"Great!" I scrolled to my `likes' and queued up an old favorite. "I love this one so much!"

The opening score started, and I leaned back with a sigh. He must've had a sound system installed, too, because the audio was crystal clear - or at least as clear as it'd get for a movie made in the 1950s.

"Brigadoon?" Jan settled back into the couch beside me, folding his paws all proper-like in his lap. "What's it about?"

"Shh!" I hushed him as the female lead ran across the screen. "It's a musical, and a love story. Just watch!"

Was it me, or did he choke a little when I told him it was a love story? Was he one of those super-macho guys got squicked out over romantic stuff?

Well, whatever. He said anything. Guess he'd have to put up with it now.

It wasn't long into the movie that I started regretting sitting in the middle of the couch. The A/C in Jan's penthouse worked way too well, and I'd started shivering. And of course, the guy didn't know what a throw blanket was. His couch was comfy, but definitely not cozy.

What if I slid over to the side? At least I'd have the armrest to lean against. But, no... that was impossible.

Because I'd have to move away from him.

Jan's side gently brushed against mine in time with our breaths, his tree trunk of a thigh pressed tight against my twiggy one. Something about the innocent, casual contact sent a thrill up my spine, heat expanding like a balloon in my stomach.

Oh, fuck no you don't! I mentally chided myself. You're nothing but a charity case to him. Yeah, he's built like the god of daddies incarnate, and yeah, you want to climb him like one of his damn apple trees. But it's lust. Stupid, one-sided, animal lust. He's not for you, he—

"Cold?" Jan leaned closer to me, bumping me with his shoulder as he whispered in my ear.

His hot breath tickled the tuft of fur there, sending shivers up and down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. "Naw, man." Okay, that shiver was because it's cold as balls in here. I huffed. "Okay, sure. It's a little cold. But it's fine!"

Jan hummed at that, flexing his paws in his lap before drumming his fingers against his thighs. "Well, that's no good," he murmured. There was a long pause there, during which I yawned loud and deep. That got me a warm chuckle from Mr. Lizard. "Tired, too? What am I going to do with you?"

"Keep me? Please?" Wow, where did that come from? Not like it mattered. Eyes heavy-lidded, mind swimming, I breathed in his herbal scent. God, he was so close that I swear I felt his heart thumping like a kick drum in his chest.

Or is that my own?

The guy took a deep breath, holding it for so long I wondered if he might pop. I'd started getting worried when he surprised me—and himself, judging by how stiffly he moved—when he stretched to wrap one of his massive arms around my shoulders.

Jan only lingered for a moment before I shuddered again. As soon as I did, he tugged me closer, my head landing on his chest with a little 'oof!'. "Well," he whispered, so quiet that I knew he hadn't intended me to hear him. "Since you asked so nicely... maybe I will."

Shit. There I go again, making inside thoughts into outside thoughts.

I should've been embarrassed. I should've taken it back the moment I realized I'd said it out loud.

But with my muzzle buried in his chest, head rising and falling in time with Jan's breath, hearing the staccato beat of his heart... four words passed through my mind.

Words that, one day, I'd look back on with an Arizona summer's worth of warmth.

Maybe I'm safe here.

—
Janek
—

He picked his favorite movie to watch with me and fell asleep in less than twenty minutes.

No, I'm not counting the minutes I spend with him.

No, of course I'm not couching things in terms of 'before' and 'after' I pulled him close for the first time.

And why would I be swimming in this delicious moment, with the villagers singing something bold and hopeful, and Gavin draped over me so heavily I can tell he's asleep by the rhythm of his heartbeat?

Because that would be ridiculous, right? We barely know each other. I never even had a full conversation with the boy until today. So why does he make my pulse quicken like this? What has my stomach tied up in knots?

Why did I say I wanted to keep him? Fuck, he's a grown man, and clearly wounded by his past. You shouldn't have even pulled him close. You said you were going to let him set the pace!

But... how could I resist? He was cold, and small, and so very fragile. And in my heart, at the very core of my being, I've always been a protector. Always rooting for the little guy. And how very little he is...

Well, he doesn't seem angry, at least. And he must be comfortable with this, at least, given that he's snoring against my chest. Drooling, too, if that wet spot means anything.

And even that's cute!

Gavin fits against me like a tailored shirt, conformed to my every curve and sitting just so.

He's stopped shivering, too. Good.

Jan, you have to do better. You don't get to have this, not yet. Just because you decided you need to hold him doesn't mean you get to.

I'll back off. Nothing more, not until Gavin makes a move.

It's up to him if he wants to take things further.

... Oh, but by all that is holy...

Please, please let there be a 'further'.

—
Gavin
—

I don't know when exactly I fell asleep on Jan's chest. But I'd never been so comfy-cozy before, not since I was really little. For the first time in almost two decades, someone had swept into my life and wrapped me in a metaphorical - and literal - blanket, fed me, and let me take up space in their carefully manicured life. And breathing in the herbal, musky, slightly spicy guy-scent while I came half awake, Jan snoring softly, his heavy arm pressing me tightly against him?

Hot damn. I felt safe.

Right up until I heard a beep and the click of his front door opening. "Jan? Did you order a fuckload of new clothes? I don't know what's gotten into you, but I had to snag a couple of interns to get all this in—"

An older wolf, wrinkles around her eyes and a bit too much gray in her muzzle, rounded the corner with a pair of cherub-faced men even younger than me, all carrying stacks of white, cream, and pink cardboard boxes. She locked eyes with me, cuddling with this massive reptile, and froze in her tracks so fast one guy bumped into her. A box tumbled to the floor, and when it fell open, I caught a slip of a black leather sleeve peeking out.

An... intern, she said? Yeah, an intern glanced up, down, around, everywhere but at Jan and me. "Are we, er, interrupting, or...?"

"Uh..." My heart stuttered in my chest, panic ramping my wakefulness up to a hundred percent in an instant. I squirmed, trying to get away from Jan, but he gave a sleepy grumble and squeezed me tightly. "I-It's not what it looks like! We... I... fuck!"

The she-wolf raised an eyebrow, mouth hanging open in a round 'O'. Then she shook herself, soft curves jiggling all over the place, and smirked at me. "Shh!" she mouthed, holding a finger to her lips and raising her other paw to stop the other two. Tiptoeing over - which looked weird as hell in candy apple red high heels - she sucked on her two pointer fingers, swiped them out of her mouth, and plunged them straight into Jan's pointed ears.

"WET WILLY!" she crowed, making everyone else in the room jump about three feet into the air.

Myself included.

Jan, for his part, growled, flailing around and knocking me to the side in an attempt to save himself. The woman cackled, easily dodging his sharp claws when his eyes popped open and took a swipe at her. When she danced back, he scrubbed at his violated orifices while muttering absolutely violent-sounding words in what had to be Polish.

"Bitch," he grumbled, which made her laugh even harder. "Kat, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Kat—right, she's Jan's friend—pointed at the boxes she'd dropped and the two guys who looked like their ties were on too tight. "A bunch of shit came with your name on it. I thought you'd finally updated your wardrobe, so I came to tease you about it." She gave me some wicked side-eye, but softened it with a warm smile. "Imagine my surprise when I found you cuddled up with a cute little piece of ass—"

Hah, nice! I guess reptiles really can blush. Jan's already dark scales turned a vibrant purple that spread from his cheeks all the way down his thick neck as he sputtered. "Nie! Bóg w niebie, woman, the fuck is wrong with you?!" One of his paws settled on my far shoulder, but although he squeezed it, he didn't pull me in like he had before.

Which is good. Because I'm definitely freaking the hell out right now.

Jan continued to glare at his friend. "His name is Gavin, and he is a guest. Be nice!"

"Oh?" Kat arched an eyebrow. "Gavin what?" Jan gave a confused sort of grunt. "His last name, Jan. What is it?"

That made him tense up. "Ah. I, uh... well. How incredibly awkward. I-I suppose I didn't ask."

They stared at each other for long enough that I started feeling uncomfortable. "Russell," I said hesitantly, and both of them jumped like they'd forgotten I was there. "My last name. It's Russell. Gavin Russell.

Kat blinked owlishly at me, then whipped out her phone and started tapping away at it. "Right! They announced that at your show the other week, yeah? Sorry! And thank you for the reminder."

She pulled a second phone out of her lab coat and tossed it at Jan, who plucked it out of the air with a deft paw. "Try not to lose this one, yes? Just because you can afford a new phone every other day doesn't mean you should go around breaking them. It's so unlike you to be so clumsy."

My stomach sank, suddenly remembering that I needed to pay him back for that. And why did she assume Jan broke it? I did. But Jan gave me another squeeze, along with a little shake of his head. "I'll try not to drop it this time."

Wait, is he...

Fuck.

He's covering for me. Why?

"Good. The clothes are for Mr. Short, pale, and skinny over there?" She hooked a thumb in my direction.

Lizard lips nodded. "Yes! Only one outfit, though. He won't let me buy him more."

Kat frowned. "You realize there's like, thirty boxes here, right?"

He looked confused, frowning right back. "Of course? How else is he going to choose an outfit?"

"What will you do with the rest of the stuff?"

Jan shrugged. "Donate it?"

Now the she-wolf looked at me, eyes glimmering with mischief. "You're sure you want to do this, kid? He's a real handful."

I eyed the black leather cuff that had fallen out earlier. There were silvery spikes all around it, and running up the sleeve in little rows. I barely saw the rest of it, but the way it rattled when it hit the ground told me there were chains and zippers, too.

Totally my style. He'd nailed it with that one.

"Well," I said slowly, hesitating even as electric, buzzing excitement built in my chest. "I guess I'll try the jacket on, at least - "

"FASHION SHOW!" Kat screeched, throwing up her paws and waving them in the air. The interns jumped again, and I flinched, but Jan hopped up and down in his seat and nodded vigorously. She pointed at a door off to the side. "Bathroom's in there. Ian, Matthew, help him get set up, would you?"

They nodded, backs straightening, and hurried to the bathroom. I followed behind them, nervous energy making my toes and the tips of my fingers tingle.

I'm not sure what I should've expected, but a coral pink paint job and seashell-shaped sink with a turquoise porcelain toilet definitely wasn't even in the ballpark. One intern - a tall, trim hyena who'd later introduce himself as Ian - was unpacking boxes, and the dalmatian, who had to be Matthew, was hanging things up in the...

"Why does a bathroom need a walk-in closet?" I asked, my eyes going so wide I thought they might pop out of my head.

"Office functions," they replied at the same time. Matthew pointed at Ian and laughed. "Jinx! You owe me a soda!" Ian replied with a laugh of his own, punching Matthew in the shoulder, and I smiled. Looks like there's some personality buried beneath those starched collars and formal ties.

"They keep the coats in here, mostly. At least, that's where they kept them when we came to the Christmas party," Ian explained. "Man, there is a lot of leather and spikes in here."

I chuckled weakly. "That's, uh, kind of my thing. I'm a singer."

Matthew's eyes got real big. "Dude, really? That's so cool! Punk?"

Nodding, I clarified. "Pop-Punk, with a bit of Grunge and Metal thrown in. Although I've been exploring some folksy stuff recently."

"You got anything online? I need to update the playlist I listen to while I file reports."

We chatted for a bit while they finished unloading the boxes. I gave them each a rumpled, coffee-stained business card with my website on it, then they left so I could get changed.

Hmm. That jacket from earlier was an absolute standout, spikes all along the collar and sleeves with black leather straps across the front that made it look like a shiny straitjacket. Score!

There was a pair of carefully ripped black skinny jeans that went into the pile, and an oversized black t-shirt with a chunky graphic I didn't recognize, but it looked sick, so I picked it up anyway. Big ol' clunky black leather shit-kickers with silver buckles and thick straps that criss-crossed halfway up my calves were an obvious choice, too, and with that, the major components of my look were complete.

Finally, I turned to the accessories boxes. There were two of them, and I rooted around in them a bit. My eyebrows climbed so high on my face that they probably disappeared into my hairline.

Oh, Jan. My, my, my.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a fetish.

Old clothes? Wadded up on the floor.

New clothes? Fitting me like a glove.

Pink-and-white thigh-highs, studded leather fingerless gloves, and spiked dog collar? Hell the fuck yes.

Oh yeah, Mr. Dragon Daddy. You are so not ready for this.

I checked myself out in the mirror one more time. It'd been a long time since I'd seen myself and thought I looked good on an average Wednesday. I mean, I know I'm not repulsive or anything, but I'm like a five out of ten at best most days.

Today?

Today, I dialed it up to eleven and broke off the knob.

I'm fuckin' hot.

Cracking my knuckles and rolling my shoulders, I sauntered over to the door and put my hand over the knob.

You wanna play dragon, huh? That's cool.

Let's see how a dragon handles the heat.

—
Janek
—

"So, you patch things up with Mr. Music Man?"

Kat's eyes were teasing, but the hand she placed on my knee was soothing and gentle. "I think so?" My voice rose traitorously at the end. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "He's a little skittish. Like a stray cat that you're trying to pet. Last night we might've had a bit of a... breakthrough, though? He's not run away screaming yet, at least."

"Like a stray cat, huh?" She shoulder checked me, grinning lopsidedly. "So he is a pet?"

That made me bristle. "Nie! Now you're just asking for it, you—"

The bathroom door clicked open, and the rest of that sentence died a strangled death in the bottom of my throat.

One intern blurted out a quick, "Holy shit!"

Oh, yes. `Holy shit" indeed.

My jaw fell open. I was vaguely aware of Kat's raunchy whoops and cheers, and the intern's eager clapping.

Sure. Great. Yes, that was definitely happening.

Did. Not. Care.

Gavin's hips swayed deliciously as he strutted across the floor, back straight, head held high as any nobleman I'd ever met, expertly balancing on a tall pair of boots like he wore them every day. His arms, cocooned in black leather and decorated with dangerous spikes, swayed in time with his swagger, hanging loose and easy by his sides.

I might've drooled a little. Fuck, I'm certain I did. Still didn't care.

He was danger, and grace.

A wrecking ball in a five-foot-something frame.

Oh, shit. And he's walking straight at me!

I straightened when he stopped in front of me, so close his musky, mustelid scent mixed with the new leather and his warm, natural spice smell to flood my nostrils. His hair was messy, and he'd gotten it a little wet, making it a riot of pure white waves that fell over his forehead and almost hid one eye.

My eyes raked up and down his form. The jacket fit him perfectly - I'd have to make sure he kept that, if nothing else, because he wore it with the confidence I'd mostly seen only in knights wearing battle armor. A hip jutted out, long t-shirt bunching casually around his waist, and...

A sudden tightness in my throat had me swallowing hard.

I definitely did not pick those!

I'd told the shops I ordered from to pick accessories that would go well with the clothes. It wasn't like I'd ever ordered this stuff before. But I never imagined... this!

Tights—or very long socks, I couldn't tell which—skin-tight and striped white and bubblegum pink covered those long, lean legs beneath torn black jeans that looked like he'd painted them on. A paw rested on that jaunty hip, more leather tight on his knuckles and studded with shiny chrome metal.

Oh, but the worst thing... no, the best thing? Yes. Both.

I'd kept reminding myself that he wasn't a pet.

And he wasn't. He really, really wasn't.

But he'd found a black leather dog collar, studded all around with vicious-looking spikes. He wore it tight around his neck, pressing gently into the tender flesh there, and a shiny silver tag hung off a leash loop. It flashed in the early sunlight coming in from the windows.

"Brat".

I patted absently at the side of my couch, next to the armrest. Shit. Shit, shit, fucking... kurwa!

I'd never cursed my lack of couch pillows before. I'd really have to rectify that. Soon. Now. Fucking yesterday.

Actually, if Gavin was going to look like this all the time, I might need to get a gods-damned codpiece. Because my throat wasn't the only thing getting too tight to be comfortable.

He's not for you! I chastised myself. So he's good-looking, so what? He isn't yours.

But oh, by all that is holy. He's not good looking. That's a damn lie.

He's an angel - no, a demon.

A mortal sin, in black leather studded with chrome.

And that collar... I didn't pick that out.

Oh, but I could've.

Gods. I could've given him a collar, and he would've worn it.

The front of my pants throbbed, and I hunched over, my hands fisting in my lap to hide my shame.

And —sweet Gavin, kind Gavin, who'd shared his food and cried in my arms and cuddled with me as we watched a movie together...

He leaned in close, muzzle so close to my face that I wanted to bask in the delicious heat rolling off him. His lips ghosted the side of my cheek, and he nipped at my ear, making me gasp.

Finally, in the silkiest, most sultry voice, he practically moaned at me.

"Why, Mr. Dragon Daddy. See something you like?"

"Wha—G-Gavin, no, you can't... haah, fuck me..."

He straightened, bopping me on the snout with a finger. "Mmm. Another time, tiger. We've got an audience right now."

"What?" Gavin jerked his head to my left, and I turned to see Kat, wide-eyed and grinning like she'd escaped a mental institution. Her interns were pointedly staring away from us, ears folded back and tinged with pink. Shit. "Kat, you should, ah... you should go. Yes. Now. Go now."

My best friend cackled, loud and long, trailing off into a harsh, wet cough. "Smoking kills, kids," she croaked, though tears still streamed from her eyes. "Ian, Matthew, you heard the boss. Time to go."

And leave she did, the interns scurrying behind her, Matthew taking a moment to cast a heated look at Gavin as they went. A spark of ancient instinct flared inside me, from a time before I'd learned to share, and a puff of green mist escaped my nostrils.

Mine.

No! Bad dragon! But as a laughing wolf and two confused—and possibly turned-on—interns disappeared through my front door, my eyes snapped back to Gavin.

His teasing smirk. The flip of his hair. The scent of man and musk and warm spices that was all him.

And that collar... the way he wears it somehow makes him look like a prince and a pet all at once.

I'm coming undone, and he hasn't so much as touched me.

My mouth flapped uselessly a few times before I creaked out a single word. "I..."

A slender finger, at once delicate and strong, pressed up on my chin, shutting me up completely. I can't pretend that it was anything else—I whimpered at the display of dominance.

That earned me a low, filthy chuckle. "Not yet, dragon daddy. It's only a little tease today. We've got to get my stuff still." His paw flew to the back of his neck, and he rubbed it as he looked away, ears and nose flushing a deep rosy pink. "But, uh... thanks, ya know? This stuff, the clothes, t-they're perfect. It's..."

Kurwa. Gavin was hot when he acted all confident and strong. No doubt about it.

Turns out he's downright irresistible when he's all shy smiles and fumbling words.

I grabbed his free paw with both of mine, squeezing it firmly. "It's all yours, słoneczko. Freely given. No... how do they say it?" I smiled, the first proper smile that touched my eyes in so long. "No strings attached."

And he gave me a brilliant, shining smile back. "Damn. I think... you might actually be one of the good ones, Jan." And he wrapped his arms around my neck, hugging me, burying his face in the cleft of my shoulder and neck.

His warm breath tickled my scales as he whispered a heartfelt, "Thank you."

So beautiful.

—
Gavin
—

I was not getting misty over a wardrobe change.

I wasn't.

But sitting in the back of the black SUV that tooled to my part of town, a scarce couple feet separating me from Jan, playing with the spikes on one of my cuffs, I felt... I dunno. Seen?

I usually only dress like this for shows. It's the only time I justified wearing the most expensive clothes I owned. Never dreamed I'd have the chance to wear this stuff out and about so casually, but here I was, looking like a million bucks.

Thank God Jan gave me time to finally shower. I smell like pine and lavender now. Like him, almost. Would it be weird to take a good whiff of myself? That would totally be weird, right?

We could sniff him instead...

Nope, nope! Bad Gavin! He's sweet, and he's been nothing but respectful. Even when he pulled you close, he never took it anywhere uncomfortable. And that's what all this has been, hasn't it?

Comfortable?

We turned onto the block where Todd and Alisha live. Man, they would freak if they saw me now! I texted them to let them know I was coming, but all I said about Jan was that I was bringing a friend to help me pack. I hadn't gotten a text back yet, but a thrill of excitement rushed through me as I realized I'm actually looking forward to introducing my best friends to...

Actually, that was a good question. What was Jan to me? He's too friendly to be an acquaintance, but too new to be a friend. And I'm not interested in a boyfriend right now, even if he wanted someone as worthless as me. And again - this is too new.

"Are we friends?" I blurted out.

Way to go, Gav. Just throw it out there, why don't you?

Jan startled, turning slow-blinking eyes on me. "Friends? I don't know, I..." His cheeks darkened, and I had to look away myself, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. Did he not want to be? "Would you like to be?"

Oh? I hesitated only a little, looking back at him to see Jan scratching at a purpled cheek with a claw. "Yeah?" Nope, that sounded too unsure. I cleared my throat, managing a sunshiny smile. "I mean, yeah! Yeah, I'd like that."

Jan exhaled quickly. "Good! Good. Yes, good." His fingers twitched, moving in my direction for a moment before settling back in his lap.

"What's that about?" I smirked, pointing at his hands. "Getting nervous, dragon daddy?"

"Wh—Gavin! That is inappropriate!" he hissed, glancing at the rottweiler driving us around. "Nervous? Please! No, it's, ah..." One hand raised, reaching out toward me, and my breath hitched. "You have a little hair, right there..."

I froze as his fingers—were they trembling?—brushed some wayward strands of hair out of my eyes and onto my forehead. Jan huffed, quickly retracting from me, and I heard him mutter under his breath, "So damn soft..."

"Thanks," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck. The gesture was sweet. A little unexpected, but gentle and caring, and I missed his touch the moment his fingers moved away.

Suddenly, Jan's stomach growled so loud it sounded like a cat yowling, and our eyes met for a shocked moment before we both cracked up laughing. Wiping away a tear from my eye, I leaned against the door. "You hungry, big guy?"

"Starving," he admitted. "I skipped breakfast to entertain Katerina and her little fashion show, and then we were rushing out the door and I simply forgot."

I looked out the window. We were only a couple of blocks away, so I hollered up to the driver, "Let us out here!"

After confirming with Jan, he pulled to the side of the street and let us out right next to the little corner shop near the apartment. "You are so not skipping meals because of me," I said, firm but teasing at the same time. "Come on. You're getting breakfast, and snacks, and drinks for later, and - don't get used to this - but you're buying."

Jan nodded eagerly, following me like a little puppy as I pulled open the doors and ushered him inside with my palm at the small of his back. His eyes widened, darting all over the brightly colored processed snacks, coolers full of drinks, and the rotating tower of pizza slices on the counter that shimmered with grease. "This looks... wow!" he breathed. "So unhealthy!"

That made me laugh again. Damn, it was good to laugh with him. "It totally is. I'm gonna grab some chips and trail mix. You go over there," I pointed at a cooler, "And pick out some sodas for us. And if you get anything sugar-free, I'll make you put it back until you get it right," I said, keeping my tone serious but giving him a cheesy wink along with it.

Excited to help, he nodded happily and carefully opened the glass door. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "They have names on them!"

"It's a total gimmick, but yeah. Don't worry about that." I turned down the aisle with the salty snacks I was looking for. "Grab whatever looks good!"

It took me about ten minutes and a trip to grab a basket from the front to hold everything I wanted him to try. Pickle-flavored sunflower seeds, crispy onion snacks, cheese puffs, and a spicy teriyaki jerky I'd actually never had before, but I wanted to try with him. Rounding the corner, I said, "Okay, bud. You pick out anything good—"

Oh. My. God.

Jan sat on the grungy tile floor, surrounded by bottles of soda. He lifted one, squinting at it, and his face lit up. "Oh!" His eyes darted to mine, and I swore he was part dog, the way he was reminding me of a puppy today. His tail was even wagging, the tip of the long appendage thumping happily on the tiled floor. "Here! I finally found one with your name on it!"

And he passed me a bottle of soda, damp with condensation. I turned it to read the label.

"Share a pop with Gavin!"

Oh! That's...

I didn't even care that it was diet. No way was I going to do that to him, not with that face. Shit, that's adorable. How is a seven-foot-something tall lizard that's built like a brick shithouse adorable?

God! My poor, stupid heart can't take this.

That's when Carlos, the day shift manager, came to see us. "Oh, hell no," he scolded, shaking a finger at Jan. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jan shrugged. "I was looking for his soda," he said, pointing at me. "And I found it!" And he smiled at me again, fangs on full display, eyes squinted shut, tail thumping the floor.

Oh, crap. He's a himbo. A rich, sexy, himbo who runs a drug company... but a himbo.

Carlos's mouth twitched as he tried to fight the infectious smile. "You're gonna either put all of those back, or buy 'em all right now," he teased. "What'll it be, big guy?"

Dragon daddy glanced around at the mess of soda that surrounded him and hummed. "I suppose it would be hard to carry that many drinks," he sighed. Like that was the problem.

Well, for him, I guess it isn't the money.

He started filling the cooler again, Carlos and I watching with amusement as he unconsciously faced every single bottle to the front, like someone might give a damn. The manager nudged my shoulder. "He's the best employee we've ever had! If you don't want to keep him, I will."

That made me flinch. "Wha - no! He's not..." I scuffed one booted foot across the floor. "Jan's not mine to keep," I muttered.

"Really?" Carlos gave me a skeptical glance. "He unloaded an entire cooler to find you a pop with your name on it. Might be a little closer to keeping him than you think."

"You're just a big ol' softie," I groused. Even so, my face prickled with heat, and I pressed the cold, now damp bottle to my cheek.

I didn't know which was sweeter. The soda, or the man who'd given it to me.

—
Janek
—

Well. What an... insightful experience.

I learned that sometimes, drinks have names!

Ah, yes, and when you give someone a drink with their name on it, it renders them blushing and quite incapable of speech for a while.

Ahh, too cute.

Gavin picked a few more beverages from the cooler, and we walked up to the counter where the older pine marten that threatened to sell me all the drinks in the cooler waited behind the register. My sunshine-y stoat chatted animatedly with him as Gavin unloaded his little basket onto the counter. I caught sight of beef jerky, all manner of crisps, and a few kinds of trail mix disappearing into a plastic bag along with the beverages and, surrendered with some reluctance, Gavin's soda.

"That'll be $63.29," the marten said. Gavin reached for his pocket momentarily before looking back at me, a half-smile crossing his features. "Uh, sorry... I know I said I'd make you pay, but I won't actually do it if you don't want. I can cover it—"

"Nie." I drew out my wallet and handed him one of my black cards. "Here. This will do nicely."

Both Carlos' and Gavin's eyes bugged out, and Gavin gingerly plucked the card from my fingers. "I always thought `black card' was a figure of speech," he mumbled, and tapped it on the reader. It beeped in approval, and when he made to hand it back to me, I declined.

"Why don't you hang onto that for now," I said gently. "Just in case there's something else you need." He frowned, opening his mouth to protest, and I raised my paws. "You can give it back at the end of the day, if you're uncomfortable."

Gavin was still glaring at me until Carlos leaned over the counter to punch him on the shoulder. "I'll take it if you don't want it, hermano!" he laughed, and gave my little sunshine a big wink.

That finally unfroze him. Gavin tucked the card into a beaten-up wallet and shoved it into his pocket. "Fine," he grumbled. "But only until tonight!"

I nodded, giving him a wide grin as I accepted the bags from Carlos. "Good." Then I tilted my head at the door. "Lead the way, Sir Gavin!"

Shaking his head, frowning but chuckling, he pushed open the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. It really was a beautiful day - warm, but not hot, with a gentle breeze to keep everything fresh.

"It's only a couple blocks to my place," Gavin said casually.

I grunted, following behind him and doing my best not to stare at his ass in those absurdly tight jeans. I was so focused on the space just over his shoulder that I didn't hear the question he asked me. "Sorry?"

Gavin cleared his throat. "It's nothing, but, uh, I was wondering... what does `slo-nesh-ko' mean? You keep calling me that."

"Słoneczko, it's, ah... it's in my native tongue." My hands were full of bags, so I couldn't retrieve a drink to quench my suddenly parched mouth. I mumbled out the next words.

"What was that?" He looked back at me with eyes that were far more innocent than he really was. I saw that twinkle, caught that smirking lip, and knew he'd heard me quite well.

"Sunshine," I grumbled, louder this time. "It means sunshine."

The way he beamed at me stopped me dead in my tracks.

He tucked a stray piece of hair up and out of his face, and his grin morphed into a shy, self-conscious smile as he averted his gaze. "Never been anyone's sunshine before," he murmured. "It's, well... kinda nice, I guess. Thanks, Jan."

Ah, słoneczko. You earn that nickname again every time I see you.

The way you light up a room. The warmth that you give so freely.

You still don't see how wonderful you really are.

And if I'm the first to appreciate it, so be it.

It will be mine. All for me.

My little sunshine.

—
Gavin
—

Sunshine, huh?

My head hadn't been this floaty in... God, I can't even remember when. And forget butterflies in my stomach, I've got a flock of startled pigeons down there. I'm almost worried that I'm going to throw up.

But in a good way? Like, from happiness?

Is that a thing people do?

He calls me sunshine, but the buff-ass lizard beside me and carrying all our snacks is absolutely glowing right now. Literally - his eyes are doing that weird green shimmer again. Do lizards have reflective eyes? Like cats? So many questions.

Only a few steps into the trek, Jan slides around me to shepherd me to the inside of the sidewalk. It doesn't seem conscious. He doesn't tell me to move; Jan just slips between me and the busy street, and I move with him, and it makes me all floaty and fumbly inside again. And he looks at me like he gives a damn, with those warm looks and warmer smiles.

What did I do to earn this much care from one man?

And the answer to that brings me crashing back down to Earth. I haven't earned this. I haven't done anything special for him. How could I? Jan is humming again, and I'm glad he's preoccupied, because if he made me talk right now, I'd probably scream.

Or cry.

Maybe both.

I can see my building now. There's like, five minutes to go, and every fiber of my being regrets not making him wait in the damn SUV.

"Uh, that's the place over there," I point, and with a quavering chuckle, I do what I'm best at. Deflect with humor. "Last chance to decide I'm a walking disaster and run screaming the other way!"

Jan freezes, stopping to look down at me, and the concern in his eyes hurts me so bad I have to look away. "Gavin?"

I cough and mumble something. I don't know what. It wasn't really words, anyway.

"Gavin." It's not a question this time. But it's still soft and warm, and wraps around me like a blanket.

I hesitated only a moment longer before meeting his eyes. "Mmhmm?"

"You're not a disaster," he says, holding my gaze with his piercing, earthy green eyes. "And I'm not running anywhere. I promise."

God, I want to believe him. I really, really do.

We make it to my door, and I let out a shuddering breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. For some reason, my hands were shaking, and I scraped the key against the deadbolt like a junkie coming down from a high. Finally, I got it in the lock, and I opened the door.

"You will," I muttered under my breath. "Everyone always does."

Do it. Just get it over with.

Prove me right one more time.

I step through the door and usher Jan in before I close it behind him. I can tell Todd and Alisha haven't been home since the baby was born, because the A/C hasn't been on. The air was stale, and smelled like sweat and socks and that particular musk that we mustelids have. A funk coming from the garbage in the kitchen reminds me I didn't take it out when I left a week ago (oops).

The carpet, stained and threadbare, was... honestly, it's cleaner than when we moved in. The broken blinds over my futon dangle limply, a sad reminder that the landlord gave a damn, once. And Jan's just standing there, staring, mouth hanging open, taking in the dumpster fire that is my life.

"This is me," I said, trying to keep some pep in my voice. "Home sweet home. Don't mind the roaches, I'm pretty sure they're structural." My forced laugh came out a little too much like a sob, but maybe he won't notice?

Fuck. Nothing.

I took the bags from Jan and set them in the kitchen. Popped the drinks in the fridge, left the snacks in the plastic bags for later. I flipped over one of the three milk crates I was using as a coffee table and started cramming clothes into it by the fistful. "The futon's safe, if you wanna sit." Come on, one more joke. Give me something! "It's magic, that thing. The back problems hit you before you even open the door!"

Still nothing.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell was I thinking, bringing him here?! This is more than poor. It's goddamn pathetic!

And he's still not saying anything. He's not even touching the walls. Just standing there. Staring.

Of course he's speechless. Jan's probably never even seen someone this destitute.

But this is it. This is me.

This is everything I have.

This is what I am.

I pull on one of my plastic drawers that I was using as a dresser a little too hard, and it pops right out of the frame. Clothes tumble to the floor as I drop it, and I let out a weird sound like someone strangling a clown. A creepy, high-pitched, choking, honking laugh.

"Fuck," I say, and I hate the way my voice breaks when I do. "I'm not—" I turn to Jan, my eyes hot and cheeks hotter. "This is what I am. You think I'm sunshine, but I'm not! All of this—" I sweep my hand at the wreckage of my life, and damn it if a tear doesn't roll down my cheek and mat my fur. "This dump is what I am, where I come from. This is where I fucking belong!"

Screw it. There was no energy left in me to hold them back. I let the tears spill over my cheeks like a dam breaking. "How you can treat me like I'm something that matters? Because I don't... I don't matter."

Jan's face gets stormier and sharper as I basically fall apart at the seams in front of him, God, and my grungy-ass futon. He had to be wondering how he was so wrong about me. How he ever thought I was worth even a second of his time.

He's raising his hand. I'm watching it in slow motion, like time itself has conspired to drag out my suffering. It moves toward me and I flinch away instinctively.

The man twice my size, with biceps as big as my head, has the most feather-light touch I'd ever felt as he smooths my hair back, then cups my cheek.

"You lived here, słoneczko. You survived this." His fingers tap the underside of my chin as he raises my eyes to his once more. "That matters. I think that matters a great deal."

And like a whisper, he's gone, snagging another milk carton and crouching onto the floor to pick up my ratty old clothes and fold them with care and precision before placing them neatly into the crate.

Pretending he didn't just shake me to my core. Like he didn't see me at my absolute messiest, my most insecure, and casually accept me.

He still cares.

He's seen it all now, and he still cares!

I rubbed the back of my wrist over my eyes and gave a most undignified snort before I found our roll of paper towels and blew my nose. It doesn’t take ten minutes to pack all my worldly possessions into two and a half milk crates in complete silence.

You know, I really thought we’d go through three jumbo-sized bags of jerky and every brand of sour gummy candy they had at the store.

But Jan has those too, now, bags hanging from his wrists and a crate held loosely by each hand, standing outside my apartment and humming that lullaby again while we wait for his car to come back.

"Hey, Jan?" I mumbled, voice still creakingly fragile.

He stopped his humming and nodded. "Yes?"

"Why did you come here today?"

"Well, because I wanted to, of course." He blinked at me, looking like I asked him some kind of riddle.

I sputtered. "No, but… I mean, why did you even want to?" My cheeks go hot again, and I refuse to break down again in the middle of the sidewalk. "I’m nothing special. You’re rich, and gorgeous, and smart. You could be with anyone you wanted, so… why me?"

Jan quirked an eyebrow. "You think I’m gorgeous?"

"That’s not the point!" I squawked.

But he’s smiling like it is.

And, well—heaven help me—I guess I’m smiling too.

—
To be continued…
—

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