When two dragons decide to distract themselves after a stressful day with a bit of relaxation, they might end up running into trouble anyway when the larger of the pair quickly finds out that he might be a bit too big around for some activities...



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Hive Mind
Chapter 2


Arro was lying in the center of the bed, his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at nothing. He didn’t feel like playing videogames or watching TV. He was too anxious about what had happened at work earlier. Since he hadn’t spoken with his boss today, it meant he had to wait until his next shift. He’d get to be anxious all night long. Putting it off had seemed wonderful earlier, but now he regretted not getting it over with.

He flicked an ear at the sound of the front door opening downstairs. As a Faerian, Arro couldn’t just sense Rangavar’s aura getting close to the house, but one of his gene mutations gave him the ability to hear the quiet Darkal enter. He tried to slowly push himself up, intending to go down and greet him. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of the mattress, so when he tried to sit up, the shift in his weight only caused it to bend around him. When he tried to push against it, his elbows sank deeply into the plush surface. What didn’t help was the way his belly weighed down directly on his center of gravity, the sprawling sides of his love handles and rolls resting around him. The mound of fat that sat on his middle bunched up between his lap and chest when he tried to bend.

He tried to turn over, a bit embarrassed, but at least Rangavar wasn’t here to see him like this, trapped and flopping around like a beached whale.

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?”

The heavy creaking of the bedframe had hidden the sound of the Darkal entering. Arro pressed his face into the blankets in case it started to turn bright red. Or, well, a brighter red than usual. His scales were pale-red. A very light red, but not light enough to be pink. Definitely not pink.

He sighed. “Not really.” He’d wanted to take a nap, but worrying about work had kept him awake.

When Rangavar didn’t say anything, Arro finally glanced over at him, his double chin restricting his movement somewhat. The smaller dragon was standing nearby, but had an odd, unreadable expression. He had his arms crossed over his chest, maybe a bit anxious? Arro wondered what happened at the ‘emergency’ at work.

“Do you want to sit?” Arro asked, breaking the brief silence that had fallen.

“Weren’t you just about to get up?”

Ah, of course Rangavar had seen him. Somehow, he always managed to catch Arro at his most embarrassing moments. “Well, I’m fine just lying here.” He knew his face was definitely red by this point. Or at least redder than the usual pale-red that wasn’t at all similar to pink.

Instead, he tried to look comfortable. Yes, he wanted to lie here, trapped in bed. Rolling around, his sprawling gut pinning him, his favorite activity. He hadn’t been about to get up. Getting up? Who had heard of such a thing?

Arro was suddenly betrayed by a gurgle from his stomach. He sheepishly clutched his belly.

Rangavar snorted. “Didn’t eat yet?”

Arro had been trying to cut back on food. Really trying. He was always so hungry, though. He sighed in defeat. “No.”

Rangavar finally went over to the side of the bed and perched on the edge, his own lithe body barely making an impression on the surface. Most of the tension was focused around Arro’s more significant weight. “You’ve been going to the gym constantly. You still need to eat.”

“Working out doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still be trying to diet,” Arro pointed out. He looked away. He’d spent centuries being fat and gorging himself. Even though he was working out at the gym more often, he hadn’t exactly started eating salads or shirking his favorite pastries. His stomach and taste buds were more resistant to his lifestyle change.

And although Arro would never tell him, being around Rangavar certainly didn’t help either. The much smaller dragon was happy with him regardless of size. Constantly telling him he was perfect and handsome wasn’t much incentive to lose weight.

“How can you expect to keep up your energy without eating anything at all?” Rangavar’s comment snapped him out of his thoughts. The smaller dragon suddenly reached over and mischievously pinched one of Arro’s soft rolls, making him jump. Arro swatted at the Darkal playfully until he hopped off the bed.

The corner of Rangavar’s mouth quirked up. “Let’s go fill you up.”

Arro groaned. “Well I’ll have to GET up, first. I’m not sure I want to.” Even though Rangavar could hear lies anyway, Arro was betrayed from another gurgle from his stomach. He blushed.

He wasn’t normally in the center of the bed, or else he would have just rolled off to begin with, as he did every morning. All of his fat jiggled as he squirmed, sinking into the mattress while it buckled. He blushed again to notice Rangavar still standing at the side of the bed, staring at him.

The Darkal finally held out a paw, and Arro grabbed it, letting the smaller dragon help pull him over so that he could swing his legs off the side of the bed and push himself into a sitting position. His fat settled heavily around him, the weight of his gut spreading forward to cover his expansive thighs. Working out had toned his body slightly as he grew more muscle mass, and he’d become a bit stronger as well, but he was still huge. He suddenly had some second thoughts again about eating.

But Rangavar was already in the doorway, unconcerned, smiling at him briefly before disappearing down the stairs. Rangavar didn’t think less of him. Arro shouldn’t think less of himself either. He heaved himself off the bed to follow his companion.

He really had been working on his weight. He wasn’t lying to himself about that. It turned out he was way better at working out than he was at dieting, and the extra muscle building under all the rolls of fat was giving his body a bit more definition than the saggy, flabbier version it had been a year ago. Not by much, but… he noticed in all the little ways; the way that the buttons on his work clothes no longer clung for dear life, the way he could climb up and down stairs without gasping for breath, the way he moved around without bumping into things—as often—and even just the way that his overhanging gut didn’t rest so hard against his thighs… the list went on and on.

He hadn’t exactly lost any weight—and he certainly wouldn’t be seeing his toes anytime soon—but he felt better about his body than he had in a long time. He was content. Maybe even… happy?

And he didn’t have to lean as far to wrap his arms around Rangavar. That was really his favorite part, although he hadn’t admitted it to him yet.

When he reached the kitchen, Rangavar was already digging around under the counter, pulling out all of Arro’s favorite things. Arro’s eye was particularly drawn to a large box of donuts. He clenched his fists. No. He shouldn’t… He hardened his resolve. “I can’t eat all that.”

Rangavar glanced up. “Why not?”

Arro pressed his index fingers together. “It’s, uh, a lot.”

“Didn’t you have a rough day at work? I figured you’d be hungry.”

Arro thought about that. Both of those things were true.

Rangavar pushed the donut boxes towards him across the counter. “Relax. Eat.”

“What are you going to eat?” His question was answered by watching the smaller dragon grab an apple from the cabinet after he finished taking out Arro’s things. Of course he’d go for fruit. Arro wasn’t sure why he’d asked.

Rangavar hopped on the couch and began munching away as Arro grabbed all of the donuts and joined him, trying not to feel too guilty. It was a lot of donuts. There were six in each of the boxes, and right now, there were four boxes. It was an obscene amount to even imagine eating in one sitting. He told himself that he wouldn’t eat all of them right now. Definitely not.

His stomach perhaps had more ambitious plans, growling louder the longer it was denied food, and Arro finally, hungrily dug in. He tried to start off slowly, but the first was so good, and then the second… soon, two turned into four, and then four into eight, and the number only continued to double. His stomach was used to large quantities of food, taking a long time to even begin to feel full, even when he already knew he was overextending himself.

He felt Rangavar begin gently rubbing his scaly belly as he packed it with food, the other dragon having finished his own small apple a while ago. They spent a lot of time like this, actually; Rangavar leaning into his side, massaging Arro’s vast reservoir of fat while the large dragon finished up. Arro was actually pretty content with that, enjoying the feeling of paws gently kneading his belly, even if he was a little embarrassed to have the other dragon’s attention on his gorging.

After what didn’t seem like a very long time at all, he was startled to notice that all the donuts had disappeared. Vaugh dammit, he’d done it again.

“Do you need more?”

“After that obscene amount?” He rolled his eyes. “No, I do not ‘need more’.”

Rangavar glanced up at him and tried to stifle a grin, unsuccessfully. “Hey, just checking. One can never know.” He grabbed Arro’s largest roll and squeezed for emphasis.

The Faerian blushed, but tried to seem unconcerned. “Pfft.” He’d have punched anyone else who dared grab his significant amount of blubber like that.

The Darkal turned so that he was leaning his back fully on Arro’s side while putting his feet up on the arm of the couch. Arro glanced out the window. Work had ended so early for both of them that it was actually still light outside. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Huh?”

“Outside.”

“Yes, Arro. I understood that part.” Rangavar pushed himself back up, one of his arms sinking into Arro’s plush middle for a moment, but he didn’t seem to notice. He glanced out the window too. “It does look nice out.” He turned back to Arro with a raised brow. “Usually you hate being outside, though.”

“Not true.” Arro’s face felt warm. It was absolutely true, and they both knew it. “I mean, I just don’t like being in public. I don’t like being stared at.” He self-consciously rested his paws on his soft, expansive gut. He took a deep breath. “But, right now… We’re just never both out of work before dark anymore. Since companions aren’t allowed to have shifts together, it’s never both of us at the same time.”

Rangavar reached over and scritched Arro’s belly, which made a startled growl arise in his throat at the pleasant feeling. “That’s just the research facility’s way of punishing us for being a nuisance,” he snorted. “But yeah, it’s nice that we both ended up with the afternoon off.”

It had been such a weird day. And a stressful day. It would give them some extra time to spend together. That is, if Rangavar wanted. Arro really hoped he did.

The Darkal stared at the window a moment longer, the soft light from outside falling across his unusually dark scales. He appeared to think for a moment. “Let’s do it.”

~

Arro eyed the smaller dragon as he sipped on the milkshake. Rangavar was so, so picky. It was one of the rare sugary foods he liked.

“You know I can feel whenever you stare at me.”

Arro grinned. “I’m just admiring how cute you are.”

Rangavar wrinkled his snout.

Arro sipped his own milkshake as they walked down the sidewalk. It was way bigger than Rangavar’s, and he tried not to suck all of his up more quickly than the other dragon.

Rangavar glanced around. “We should find somewhere to sit for a while.” They were in the middle of the city, surrounded by tall buildings that blocked out the sun as it finally started to set. The sun set so quickly on Karraden compared to other worlds. “It would be nice to relax outside. I feel like whenever we’re not at work, we’re just doing nothing at home.”

“I, uh… We don’t have to do ‘nothing’. Maybe we could go back and watch TV or something fun like that.” The walk had been nice, and Arro loved the fresh air. But he was already starting to feel self-conscious. Particularly with a massive milkshake in his paw, which he was downing at an alarming rate despite trying to restrain himself. He felt like everyone must be staring. It was probably time to go.

“Arro.” Rangavar frowned up at him. “Are you worrying about what other people think again?”

Arro felt himself blushing. He turned his face away slightly. “Uh…” He couldn’t lie to a Darkal. Shit.

“I thought you agreed to stop doing that.”

“You know it’s not that easy. I can’t just ‘stop thinking’ about stuff happening around me. And…” Vaugh dammit, he knew his face was turning bright red. “Just, well, people get disgusted by watching fat people eat.”

Rangavar slipped his much smaller paw into Arro’s large one. “Want to know a secret?”

“Huh?”

“Want to know a secret?”

Arro rolled his eyes. “I guess?”

Rangavar stared up at him earnestly. “Since I’m a Darkal, I can tell what everyone around us is feeling. And…” He leaned up slightly, to whisper, “no one is paying attention to you.”

Arro squeezed his paw a little. “I don’t believe you.” He took a sip of his milkshake. “But, uh, thanks.”

Rangavar scowled. “Hey, it’s true. People don’t pay as much attention as you think.”

Whether it was true or not, his words did make Arro feel a little better.

Rangavar glanced around. “There’s a park near here where I go running sometimes. If you’re still worried, there are never a lot of people there.”

Inwardly, Arro still felt uncertain. But the feeling of Rangavar’s paw in his grounded him a bit. “Alright.”

The park was actually pretty nice. The weather was mild, but at this time of day there didn’t seem to be many people, just as the smaller dragon had promised. Arro glanced around the expanse of grass and trees. There was a park bench nearby where a path formed, and some picnic tables in a clearing beyond that. Rangavar made his way over to one of the tables and climbed on top with his feet on the seat. Instead of sitting on it like a normal person.

“Why do you do that?” Arro made his way over more slowly, his belly swinging heavily, rolls bouncing and jiggling. He felt bloated from all the donuts earlier. And, well, everything else he’d ever eaten. “You just, climb on everything. All the time.”

Rangavar shrugged. He stretched his wings a bit, the soft, dark fur looking sleek in the dying light. “I just like this better, I guess.”

When Arro got to the table, he eyed it more warily. The wood was weathered and grayed with age, all sorts of cracks and splinters marring the once-smooth surface.

Rangavar moved over a bit so that his legs weren’t so much in the way, but Arro shook his head. “What if I break it?” If he even fit. The seat was attached pretty close to the table.

“Then we leave.” Arro shot him a questioning look, and Rangavar grinned darkly.

Arro crossed his arms. “So if we destroy park property, we just walk away and pretend it wasn’t us?”

They stared at each other for a second.

“…Yes?”

The fat Faerian rolled his eyes. “You know, I always feel like I have to be the responsible one in this relationship.”

“Who says someone has to be responsible?”

Arro made a face. “Alright, we’ll do this your way. Move over. Just know that if—or WHEN—I break this thing, and we run off like nothing happened, I hope it keeps you up at night.”

Rangavar nodded solemnly. “It won’t,” he promised, his eyes glinting in the fading light.

The larger dragon rolled his own eyes and went to put a leg over the seat. As he slid it in, he saw his thick thigh already filling a lot of the space between the seat and the table. Vaugh, he was way too fat. This was just not going to work. Still, feeling Rangavar watching, Arro pressed his bulk against the top of the table and then tried to ease the other leg in. It actually joined the other more easily than he’d thought, but he found his gut was still resting on top of the table.

Rangavar rolled his eyes. “If the table breaks, that means it was a cheap piece of shit anyway, and you’re doing the park a favor by forcing them to replace it.”

With an uncertain grimace, Arro tried to lower himself onto the bench, although lowering his overhanging belly under the table turned out to be a whole other matter. He sucked in as far as he could, even leaning back a bit to try and wriggle into place. Rangavar, sitting next to him up on the table, casually looked away.

“I told you I wouldn’t fit,” Arro grunted. No matter how he twisted, he was struggling to find a comfortable position, unable to squeeze his ample middle under the edge of the table to sit properly.

Rangavar stifled a sigh. He didn’t make any noise, but Arro could tell.

The smaller dragon scanned the area. “We could go sit in the grass,” he suggested instead. He hopped up.

Big mistake. The moment he took his weight off the top of the table and put his whole weight on the seat next to Arro, there was nothing to counterbalance it and the table toppled over.

Rangavar was flung off face-first to plant directly into the dirt nearby. Arro’s legs stuck between the seat and the table, throwing him directly underneath the table as it flipped over on its side against the bulky dragon. They were both still for a moment, until Rangavar picked up his head and winced. “Okay. The picnic bench was a bad idea,” he finally admitted. Arro just groaned.

The Faerian went to worm his way out from under the heavy wooden table, but his fat thighs remained wedged in the gap between the picnic table and the seat. He was suddenly very glad he was used to lifting weights. And had the mutated gene that gave him extra strength. The heavy table might have crushed anyone else; he often wasn’t sure how other dragons lived without it.

Bracing his paws against the table, after a few deep breaths, he heaved. The table didn’t come off. It took him a moment to see what the problem actually was; the force of the table slamming down on him had finally mashed his fat body through the gap between the seat and the table. Oh yeah, he couldn’t fit when he wanted to, but of course he fit NOW, when he wanted to get away from the thing.

Rangavar rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows, his dark gray scales smudged with dirt and flecks of grass. He watched Arro lying on his back trying to push the table up off himself. “Do you need help flipping it over?” He sounded amused. Arro figured from his vantage, it looked like he just wasn’t strong enough.

In reality, when Arro pushed against the table, it pulled against the huge rolls around his middle. “Yeah,” he finally grunted. He let his arms flop down on either side in defeat. “I’m stuck.” He was just glad that he and Rangavar were alone in the park. It was already embarrassing enough when just Rangavar had to see him like this. He knew his cheeks were red. Or, redder than the normal pale-red that they usually were. They were always red. Never pink or anything, of course.

The Darkal sauntered over, looking very sure of himself until he saw the actual problem. He paused, a little less confident. He looked from the fat dragon to the table and then back again. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Heh. I guess now we both wish the table HAD shattered.”

Arro looked away in shame.

“Come on. That was a joke. It’ll be okay,” Rangavar said more gently. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Arro sighed. This wouldn’t be a problem if he could stop fucking stuffing himself with garbage, empty calories. Did he really need a massive milkshake on top of two dozen donuts? Or rather, did he really need two dozen donuts? And when Rangavar couldn’t finish his own milkshake, he’d quietly handed it off to the larger dragon, who took it and automatically finished what was left, adding even more of the sloshing fat to his belly. Just as they’d done countless times. It was no wonder he was so fucking fat.

“You know I sense your emotions and can tell when you’re feeling bad about yourself. Please don’t.” Rangavar flattened his ears. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have kept bothering you to sit at the table.”

“It’s not your fault.” Rangavar hadn’t been the one shoveling junk food into Arro’s maw since he was old enough to chew.

“Here. Let’s flip this off of you.” Rangavar grabbed the same edge of the table, one of his paws brushing Arro’s as they settled side by side. “Ready?”

They pushed. The wood creaked as it pulled against Arro’s wedged body, the huge mound of chub squishing against it. He tried to wriggle his ass out of the seat, his fat tail thumping against the wood. Sure, the table was heavy, but that wasn’t why it didn’t budge when they pushed on it, and Arro’s face wasn’t just flushed with exertion.

They eventually had to take a break to catch their breath. When they let go of the table, it surged back against his wobbling belly, not having moved an inch.

Rangavar leaned a paw against the edge of the table. “If you push yourself up off the ground, can we get the table back upright, and you can just stand up?”

“I mean, even if we do that, I’m still stuck in farther than I could force myself in before.” If he hadn’t been able to move his bulk past the edge of the table on purpose, while getting into the seat, he wasn’t sure how successful he’d be at moving his bulk to get out.

“Should we try? Do you have more ideas?”

Arro rested his paws on top of his traitorous paunch, his fingers sinking into the layers upon layers of adipose. He tried to think. “What if we, uh…” He flicked his tail unhappily. “What if we sort of… kneaded it through, a little at a time?” Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. He thought that might be their next best idea.

After a moment, the Darkal nodded. “It could work.”

Arro looked away awkwardly. “Yeah.”

Rangavar knelt next to him. “You’ll push up on the edge of the table, and I’ll just sort of pull…”

“On my fat,” Arro finished. There wasn’t really a graceful way to say it.

The Darkal looked away and didn’t add anything to that. “Ready?”

Arro gripped the edge of the table and pushed, the unforgiving wood digging into the swell of squishy pudge, the pudge surging back against it like a game of tug of war. The table was winning. But then, Rangavar added his own paws to the battle, sinking his fingers into the surface of Arro’s doughy stomach and trying to tease the first roll under the edge a little at a time. Arro shivered at the light touch, but didn’t stop pushing, straining for freedom.

The smaller dragon’s fingers kept sinking into the soft layers of tum. The creases and folds of chub alternated between compressing beneath Rangavar’s firm, flat palms as he tried to squish it through the gap, or bulging back when his paws moved somewhere else. Arro’s thick, doughy middle was easily absorbing every effort, but was also soft enough to squeeze a little at a time, which he tried to help with by adding his own fat, pudgy fingers to the kneading and pulling.

They went at it for a while, sometimes Arro’s belly caught firmly enough on the table that it halted its progression and refused to budge. Rangavar would reach around the edge of the bench to knead from the other side, resuming the process. He didn’t say anything the whole time. Never looked annoyed. That didn’t keep Arro from feeling embarrassed, but he was grateful nonetheless. It was true that Rangavar didn’t exactly look him in the eye; he stared ahead at the other end of the picnic area, some trees along the park trail clearly the most amazing, enrapturing thing he had ever seen in his life. It didn’t exactly make things less awkward, but at least he was trying.

It seemed like hours later that with one final shove, the edge inched over the rest of his belly to sit wobbling on top instead. It had probably been more like thirty minutes. Either way, it was too long. They were both panting with the effort.

The break was momentary. Arro was still in a hurry to get out. Fortunately, with the bulk of his… well, bulk, moved from directly under the edge of the table, wriggling his legs out was slightly easier. Rangavar went around to the other side of the picnic table, grabbing the seat still up in the air, and pulled on it while the much larger dragon tugged his chubby thighs out of their prison.

Rangavar quickly jumped away before the table slammed back upright. Arro lay in the grass, groaning and rubbing his freed tum. The Darkal was back a moment later, sitting in the grass next to him to help massage the massive gut that rose defiantly into the air while he was on his back, even as the rolls that it became on his sides spread like puddles of pudge on the ground around him.

Arro turned his head to look at the smaller dragon, his horns carving grooves into the dirt. “One of these days, it’s your turn to do something embarrassing.” He poked one finger into Rangavar’s side. There wasn’t anything to pinch, unfortunately, the Darkal’s own stomach too flat. Although he wasn’t as scrawny as he used to be, Arro noted with a touch of pride. The little dumbass used to forget about food for days at a time, and then got confused when he felt exhausted. He surely would have perished without Arro there reminding him to eat.

“Ach!” Rangavar rolled back at his touch but curled his body so that he dropped into the grass at Arro’s side, and they lay on their backs, their shoulders close, their heads close. Rangavar’s much smaller body alongside Arro’s fat one. The sun had finished setting a while ago, so the sky was just barely pink at the horizon’s edge, and stars were starting to appear.

“I’m sorry coming to the park turned out to be such a bad idea.”

“It wasn’t you.” Arro spread his wings a bit beneath his fat body, feeling the grass move under them. “It’s my own damn fault.”

The other dragon didn’t say anything for a second, in what Arro thought was agreement. But then he said, “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know. Shit happens. Sometimes it’s not anyone’s fault.”

“Uhhh no, this was definitely my fault.”

The Darkal turned to look at him. “Well even if that’s true, everything turned out fine.”

“You know, sometimes, I feel like you think it’s fun to see me embarrass myself,” Arro blushed.

Rangavar frowned. “…No? I want to see you happy. If you want to lose weight, I’ll do what I can to help. If you don’t, you’re still perfect.” He reached up to gently rub the side of Arro’s chubby face with his thumb.

Arro stared back. He’d already been fat when meeting the Darkal for the first time, and Rangavar had merely been accepting of his body all along. It wasn’t a fair accusation.

Rangavar looked into his eyes earnestly. “Just tell me what you want.”

Suddenly, Arro didn’t know what he wanted. He had everything he wanted. He balanced his horrendous diet with his time at the gym, which he enjoyed. And he had a loving companion who accepted him either way.

He was really sick of getting stuck in chairs, though.

And the way that people stared, and having to get his clothes custom-made, and struggling to sit up, and—

Rangavar wriggled closer until he could turn over and rest his head against Arro’s, as best he could despite the short eyehorn in the very center his forehead. When they lay like that, the angle of the horn forced their faces very close. They stayed like that a moment, halting Arro’s racing train of self-deprecating thoughts. The tension left his body. He was content to be in Rangavar’s presence.
They were interrupted by a gurgle from Arro’s stomach.

“Ugh.” Arro grabbed at the mound of fat in disgust. “Again? Already?” He’d been distracted by the feeling of the bruised surface of his midsection, and hadn’t even noticed the lurking rumble underneath. He felt like a slave to it, ever drawn back to food he didn’t need. He’d eaten plenty tonight, and yet his body demanded more.

“Want to go get something to eat?”

“I mean, I shouldn’t…”

Rangavar pushed himself into a sitting position. He patted Arro’s stomach, making it jiggle. Normally, Arro would be mortified if someone did that. Rangavar was allowed to, though. “Let’s go somewhere for once.” He rubbed his paw up and down Arro’s stomach, making the fat slosh. There was a slight burning sensation when his paw ran over a few cracked scales from the table, but Arro didn’t point it out.

“I guess,” he found himself saying. He really shouldn’t be agreeing with the smaller dragon. Unfortunately, his stomach had begun gurgling again at the mention of eating something other than the feast of junk food he normally snacked on at home. It wasn’t as easy to resist the temptation when he was so clearly lying to himself about not wanting it.

He slowly pushed himself up next to Rangavar, his belly folding and huge love handles taking shape at his sides. His gut surged forward over his lap, Arro leaning back on his paws to give it more room, although he felt every bulge of pudge that bunched up between his shoulder blades when they pressed towards each other.

Rangavar stood up first and extended a paw to help him up. Arro scoffed at it and pushed himself up on his own. “Yeah, like I wouldn’t pull you right over on top of me.”

The other dragon scowled. “Hey, I’ve been exercising more. Getting stronger, like you.” He straightened a little, flaring his wings to look bigger. It didn’t really work, compared to Arro’s girth, but it was adorable that he tried.

Arro’s eyes roved over Rangavar’s smooth body. He supposed it was true that his arms and legs were a bit thicker, proof that there was muscle there. Somewhere. He didn’t exactly look like he was about to be flexing out of a shirt anytime soon. “Uh-huh.”

Rangavar made a face. “Just because I haven’t been exercising at the gym, doesn’t mean the exercise doesn’t count.”

“Right. I forgot to take your light morning runs into account.”

The smaller dragon playfully punched him.

The night was cooling down as they exited the park. Rangavar slipped his paw into Arro’s again. Since the other dragon was quite a bit shorter, Arro could never reach to do the same; he’d have to stoop and grope around to find the Darkal’s paw at his side. That was also assuming his own rotund bulk wouldn’t get in the way, as if he didn’t have enough embarrassing stuff going on. But even though it was Rangavar’s job to reach up and grab Arro’s paw, it meant that it was Arro’s job to lean down when he wanted to kiss the shorter dragon. He felt like he got the superior end of the deal.