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Two dragons want a relaxing night out, but might need some new clothes first. That should be easy for a small dragon, but an incredibly fat one might have less luck finding something, and maybe some downright bad luck if he tries eating while wearing them
I am here to deliver a spoiler alert for a pressing question:
Will I ever decide on a consistent word format for the thumbnail??? The answer is: probably not
:P
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Hive Mind
Chapter 3
The two dragons stopped in front of what looked like a restaurant. Or particularly, what smelled like a restaurant: the pleasant scent of food wafted out as the doors opened and closed.
Another dragon stopped them as they approached the entrance. She had black scales, which didn’t seem to be unusual for females on Karraden, but was striking nonetheless. "Sorry, this is a restaurant.” She looked them up and down. “You need to wear clothes.”
Rangavar frowned. “I thought Karraden only makes dragons wear clothes for work?”
Her expression softened, a bit more understanding upon realizing they weren’t locals. “It’s more that clothes are for formal activities. Work is one such activity, that’s true.” She gestured at the building behind her. “Eating in a real restaurant is another. Although there are smaller cafes and bars you two might be interested in..?”
Rangavar flattened his ears and glanced up at Arro. Neither of them were really interested in alternate suggestions. Arro just nodded and thanked her before they turned and continued down the sidewalk.
“Vaugh dammit,” Rangavar growled. “I hate clothes. Everyone should go back to when they weren’t mandatory for anything.”
“I hate them too.” Arro self-consciously clutched at his belly. “I don’t always, uh, have a lot of luck finding any. That fit me, I mean.” The larger dragon looked around. “I guess we have to go home. Or, uh, I suppose we could always buy some.”
Rangavar looked around too. Darkness had descended on the city by now, but the sun set so early on Karraden that the people had adapted by filling the streets with lights, keeping their bodies at a normal schedule. Things were still open. “Do you want to go right now?”
“To get clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like it would be weird to disappear for a while and come back with clothes, asking to come back in.” Arro pressed his index fingers together. “Heh. Like we’re reeking of desperation to get inside, or something.”
Rangavar snorted. “Literally no one is thinking that.”
“They might be.”
“If you’re so worried, we can just go to a different restaurant, then.” Rangavar glanced around at the other many buildings on the city streets. “Although we’ll probably still have to get clothes.”
The large Faerian looked uncertain. But Rangavar knew that Arro knew he was right. “Okay…”
Rangavar gave his paw a squeeze and looked up at him. “It’ll be fine.”
Arro was blushing. “Easy for you to say. Everything will fit you.”
Yeah. That wasn’t really fair.
“I’ll try to find something, though,” Arro promised.
It took them longer to find a clothing store than it had to find the restaurant. Of course, neither could use their keen sense of smell to help them find clothes as easily as food. Rangavar glanced around at the signs on the street. He could see Arro’s eyes flicking back and forth as he read them.
They finally found a store. The front of the building was pretty bland, although it had a lot of floors. “I’m sure you’ll find something in here,” Rangavar encouraged as Arro slowed in front of the double doors. Rangavar pushed one open for them, although his arms weren’t long enough to push both far enough, since Arro needed an ample amount of space to walk through. Arro bumped open the other door with his elbow.
Rangavar’s eyes quickly swept the vast, singular room. To him, a lot of the clothes just looked identical. All of it was fairly plain. He supposed it was because they really were just reserved for ‘formal’ activities, which still sounded a bit vague to him, but whatever. It should be easy enough to grab something and go.
Unfortunately, he knew Arro would be a different story. He saw the Faerian anxiously bite his lip as he looked around. “Where do you think the biggest section is?”
“Do you think everything is organized by size?”
“It might be.” Arro hesitantly wandered forward. “I guess the only way to find out is to start looking, huh.”
There was also a friendly-looking dragon at the counter that they could probably ask, too, but Rangavar didn’t point that out. He figured that maybe Arro didn’t want to ask because he was embarrassed about his size. No matter what Rangavar ever said to him, or how often he assured him that he was handsome, and cute, and looked great, Arro was forever doubtful.
Rangavar went over to a section of clothes that looked more his size and grabbed something plain off the rack; boring white shirt, boring black pants. That seemed basic enough, right? He went to where Arro had begun picking through the largest section. The hefty dragon wrinkled his snout at a few things when he held them up, all of which looked slightly too small.
“Do you think there’s larger stuff on other floors?” Rangavar glanced around as he approached, lost in a sea of racks slightly taller than him to hold the much larger clothes on this end of the store. He supposed it was so that the bottoms didn’t trail on the ground. The clothes really were huge. There had to be something for Arro to wear.
The significantly fatter dragon grimaced at the very wide pair of black pants he was holding. “I don’t think the other floors are even for clothing, based on the sign outside. I think this is what we have to choose from.”
“Can you try them on?”
“I mean… I guess.” He didn’t seem very sure, like he already knew they wouldn’t fit. But there also didn’t appear to be any sizes larger than what he had in his paws.
They walked back to the fitting rooms, Rangavar wondering if he should bother trying on his as well. Maybe he would, since he had to wait for Arro anyway. The fat Faerian had also snatched a white shirt off the rack to match Rangavar’s.
He suddenly paused in front of a mirror, catching sight of all the little flecks of grass and dirt still stuck to his scales from the park. “Vaugh dammit, Arro.” He started to brush himself off. “Why didn’t you tell me I was so dirty? No wonder she turned us away, I look like I crawled out of a ditch.”
“Aw, but you’re so cute, you should have some self-confidence.” Arro smirked. “Isn’t that what you always tell me when I worry about my looks?” He put his paws up and ducked as Rangavar threw an empty shirt hanger at him. The Darkal growled to himself as he shut the fitting room door and shook out his clothes.
Yup, they fit. The pants hugged his thighs a bit where he’d been building a slight amount of muscle. Arro could make fun of him all he wanted, but there was definitely a bit more definition to his legs. He was sure of it.
He turned a little, looking at where the waistband sat beneath his tail. He just hoped they made his butt look good. Arro complimented his butt a lot.
The shirt was more of a loose, mesh-like material that Rangavar was pretty familiar with. It was made up of tiny, metallic threads that were overly flexible but hard to break, and the way that they interlocked made them less likely to wear down against dragon scales. The material had been invented centuries ago, and didn’t appear to have changed. Every now and then, when Rangavar found little familiar things the same over the centuries, he felt a tiny bit of satisfaction.
He inspected himself in the mirror. The neck of the shirt lay wide across his shoulders, but he wasn’t sure he could go any smaller because of his horns. And although his wings fit comfortably out the slits in the back, those couldn’t go smaller, for sure.
He heard Arro grunting in the stall next to his. He wondered if he should check on him. He wondered if it would be weird to interrupt.
“Hey Rangavar?”
Apparently, not too weird.
“Can I, uh… get a second opinion?”
Rangavar opened the door and walked around to Arro’s door. The Faerian’s bulk was too large to cram into a normal stall with still enough room to try on clothes, so he’d taken the larger stall for people with mobility aids instead, since luckily they were the only two dragons in the store right now. Rangavar knocked.
“Yeah.”
The smaller dragon immediately saw the problem. Arro was panting and red in the face, not necessarily from trying to pull up the pants, but… from trying to button them.
The black pants clung tightly to his frame, his blubbery thighs straining the fabric to their limits and a muffin top exploding over the waistband. But they hung in there, doing their best to contain the entirety of the ample, overflowing adipose. The obvious problem, though, was that Arro couldn’t reach the buttons. It was true that his custom-sized clothing at work fit better ever since he’d toned his body a bit at the gym, but these pants weren’t custom-sized, and he simply couldn’t reach as far as he needed to into the overhang of his belly. He blushed furiously under the Darkal’s gaze. “I, uh, think these were already the biggest size.”
Rangavar thought he was probably right. They were. “Do you want to go to a different store?”
“What if you just…” If it were possible, Arro blushed harder. “Do you think you could reach?”
“Oh. Sure. Okay.” Rangavar tried to sound casual. He could tell that Arro was mortified just by needing to ask.
He crouched down in front of the struggling Faerian while Arro looked elsewhere. He gently took the flaps from the other dragon’s paws and tugged them together. Wow. They were not about to close anytime soon.
“Did you get it?”
“How much pain are you willing to endure for the chance to eat?” the smaller dragon asked carefully. The flaps weren’t really even that close to each other. They weren’t side by side like a pair of twins, but more like distant cousins who had never met.
“Uh…” He knew Arro was blushing without needing to look up at him. He just knew. The fat dragon shifted uncomfortably, which visibly put pressure on all the seams. It was a moment before he apparently came to a decision. “I’m just going to, uh, suck in more, okay? I just… Going to just one store will be good enough. Y’know?”
Rangavar took a deep breath. “Okay.”
Arro sucked in, and the Darkal hauled on the flaps again, straining to close them, Arro’s protruding gut hanging over Rangavar’s head as the pants forced more of the bulge over the waistband. He wondered if maybe he should just do this every day, and he wouldn’t need to go to the gym. Or, well, maybe he did need to go to the gym, only to build up the strength for this activity in particular.
Against the odds, he surprised himself by getting the button through the hole. He immediately zipped up the pants without wasting a moment. “They’re closed.”
He stood as Arro released his breath and his heavy rolls surged harder than ever against the waistband, but fortunately the button held. Whatever else they were, at least the pants were clearly high-quality.
The fat dragon stared unhappily at the stuffed pants in the mirror, but both dragons knew they had rather limited options. “Do you think I can wear these out of here when we pay so that I don’t have to go through that again?”
“I don’t see why not.” The poor cashier probably wouldn’t want to spend any extra time listening to them exert themselves in the dressing rooms, either. Vaugh only knew what he thought they were up to.
Arro bent slowly when he reached for the shirt. The pants held. It was a bit easier for him to pull the shirt over his head, and even the neckline seemed a reasonable width compared to Arro’s broad shoulders. Pulling it down turned out to be the problem. The meshy material was flexible, but absolutely did not stretch.
Rangavar took the bottom edge of the shirt and tried to help tug it down alongside Arro’s pulling paws. It slid over his bulky chest, and even made its way down his belly, but… not quite far enough. His pants forcing his gut way over the top of the waistband made it hard for the shirt to reach over the protruding bulge. The bottom of his hanging roll showed underneath, just slightly.
“Do you think anyone will notice?” Arro sounded worried, but also genuinely couldn’t seem to tell from his vantage. Despite the large stall, he couldn’t back away from the mirror too much, and was too tall to see how much was visible underneath the curve of the shirt from standing so close to it.
Rangavar put his paw on his chin. “Nothing is super noticeable. And you’ll be sitting most of the night anyway.” That second half was true, at least. He thought of pointing out that the restaurant had only said to wear clothes, and not necessarily clothes that covered everything, but thought the comment might come out sounding a bit mean in this context.
They both stood there a minute, eyeing each other, the outfits matching. Well, mostly-matching. Rangavar wasn’t bursting out of his.
“You look great,” said Arro suddenly.
“You too,” Rangavar promised. He really meant that. Arro always looked great. He ended up pulling the much larger dragon into a reassuring hug. Arro’s overhanging belly kept him farther away from his face than he would have liked, but he still managed to rest the side of his face on Arro’s chest. He growled happily as Arro hugged him back. “Guess it’s time to go eat.”
Arro’s stomach suddenly roared in agreement, causing the Faerian to blush again.
The cashier was a pretty average Gemian with straight white horns, one in the center of his forehead, similar to a Darkal. And that was where their similarities ended, of course. The Gemian raised a brow at them as he was forced to scan the tags directly off Arro’s body before throwing them away. Fortunately, he didn’t offer any comment. Rangavar paid, waving his wristband in front of the scanner.
He was feeling a bit hungry himself as they finally found a restaurant, his appetite perhaps reawakened by the scent of food. They chose a different place than the one before so that Arro wouldn’t feel anxious. Rangavar knew he was a bit anxious anyway about his gut hanging out the bottom of his shirt. He seemed to trust Rangavar, though, as the smaller dragon assured him that it was barely noticeable. He almost felt guilty, but was mostly relieved that Faerians couldn’t hear lies.
A friendly, green-scaled Faerian seated them. “Can I start you off with some drinks?”
They started off just asking for water. After a few moments, she came back with their water and some complimentary bread for them to pick at while they looked over the menu. Rangavar stared at it. Most places he frequented didn’t have a physical menu. Although to be fair, he didn’t go to many places.
“Pfft. Telling us we need clothes,” Arro muttered, scanning the plastic sheet. “I don’t see what’s so ‘formal’ about eating.” His paunch pressed up against the edge of the table as he leaned forward, both bulging over the edge and under it. There were technically booths available here, but they both remembered what happened last time.
The menu was covered in words. Rangavar tired of staring at it. “Want to order some ‘formal’ drinks?” he played on the word.
Arro glanced up at him. “No. Nooo way.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “You’re always exaggerating how ‘drunk’ I get. I don’t really get drunk.”
Arro leaned his chin on his paw. “Do you remember what you did the last time you drank?”
The Darkal thought for a moment. Nothing in particular came to mind. “No?”
Arro grinned. “Exactly.”
Rangavar scowled at him. “That’s not what I—”
“Are you two ready to order?” The friendly Faerian was back. She smiled at them.
“Uh… sure.” Arro sounded hesitant. He didn’t seem very impressed with the food they had to offer. He proceeded to order a small list of items that were mostly carbs, rather than any one actual meal.
When it was Rangavar’s turn, he glanced back down at the menu for a moment. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed Arro’s face fall he realized Rangavar didn’t know what it said.
“He’ll have what I’m having.”
Rangavar glanced up sharply. “Huh?”
Their Faerian server hesitantly wrote it down, giving him a moment to protest, but in the end, he didn’t. He didn’t want to make things more awkward. He did add a drink to the order though. A ‘formal’ drink, as he’d joked. Arro couldn’t keep him from doing that.
When the other dragon walked away, Rangavar turned back to the significantly larger Faerian and frowned. “I can’t eat nearly as much as you.”
Arro waved a paw. “I’ll eat whatever you don’t eat. Does that make you feel better?” He looked Rangavar up and down. He smirked. “Twig.”
Rangavar made a face at him.
Arro made a face back as he started taking some bread rolls off the table and stuffing them into his mouth. Rangavar debated whether or not to take one for himself. He didn’t want to get too full to eat the actual meal.
Well… Arro had promised to eat whatever he couldn’t. He tentatively reached for a roll. The other dragon had already worked his way through quite a few already, not leaving much time to decide.
Arro was finishing up the last one by the time Rangavar was finishing up his first. They didn’t bother asking for more; a mere few minutes later, the meals arrived. As expected, it was a small collection of carbs; mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and fries. Arro added a drink to his order, then frowned at Rangavar when the server walked away. “What? It’s pasta and two vegetables.”
“Technically, they’re the same vegetable.”
Arro rolled his eyes.
“That isn’t a real meal and you know it.”
“Anything is a real meal.”
“I’m going to throw that phrase back in your face the next time you make fun of me for eating fruit, you know. I hope you know that.”
The Faerian snorted, unconcerned, as he began digging into the food.
Rangavar began to eat as well. Arro always made fun of him for being picky, but this was stuff he actually found pretty good. There was so much of it, though. So, so much. He pushed a fry into his mouth.
In contrast, Arro was really going at it, shoveling fistfuls of fries into his maw. His stomach had apparently forgotten about the donuts and milkshakes earlier. Or perhaps he’d burned off all the energy while dragging himself out from under that table? Either way, his food was quickly disappearing, in addition to the bread basket he’d already devoured.
Rangavar alternated between taking bites of his food and sipping his drink. He wasn’t even all that hungry after the bread roll. But it was true that the food looked good, and his nostrils widened at the smell. He did wordlessly push the rest of his mashed potatoes at Arro, though. The fatter dragon was quickly finishing up his own. Arro grunted a small ‘thanks’ around a mouthful of food, briefly glancing up from his plate.
The gorging dragon leaned back a bit, his shirt riding up on his belly as it swelled with the dense, heavy food being packed into it at a rapid rate. He didn’t slow for a moment as he quickly consumed the entire dish. Rangavar ended up pushing his mac and cheese over next. He hardly considered it ‘pasta’, no matter what Arro had said, but whatever. He did greedily guard his fries, though.
When their server came back over, Arro ordered another drink. Rangavar did too, and smirked when the other dragon gave him a look. He didn’t see what the big deal was. Technically, since he was a Darkal, he was supposed to have the higher tolerance. Arro thought their drink tolerances were more matched because of his sheer size, but Rangavar could definitely hold his own. Arro didn’t know what he was talking about.
“This is nice,” said Rangavar, chewing thoughtfully on some fries. “Maybe we should eat out more often. Instead of just sitting at home all the time.”
“In… in public?” Arro blushed.
Oh. Right. “Can you just take my word for it that no one here is thinking about you?”
“You can’t read their actual thoughts, only their emotions. So you can’t say that.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “Okay. No one here is feeling any way about you. Better?”
“Weirdly enough, yeah.” Arro glanced around. “I really want to believe you.”
Before the Darkal could further convince him, their server returned to the table. Arro asked what they offered for desserts.
“Of course.” The green dragon smiled warmly. “Just a few basic things. Icecream, brownies, cake…” She started to clear some of the empty plates, most of which were in front of Arro. “Do any of those things interest you? They’re not just plain, just so you know, like, the brownie comes with a scoop of icecream, and you can get whatever toppings you want, and we have all sorts of flavors of cake to order…”
Arro looked to his companion. “Do you want to split a piece of cake?”
Rangavar hesitated. He wasn’t a huge fan of cake.
Arro raised a brow. “Icecream?”
Rangavar wasn’t sure. He’d just had a milkshake earlier.
Arro sighed. “You’re hopeless.” He turned back to the waitress. “I’ll be happy to have both of those, actually.” He shot Rangavar another look. “And you’re welcome to share them with me, you know.”
Rangavar stared back. He’d have to think about it. He sipped smoothly on his second drink. He also still had his fries to finish up.
When the server walked off to bring the rest of Arro’s food, Rangavar finally shared his fries. The larger dragon grabbed generous pawfuls for himself. Rangavar gave up and pushed the rest across the table at him. He was pretty stuffed anyway. He was in no way any competition for Arro, but he’d still be excited to take his own pants off when they got out of here.
The fatter dragon’s shirt had risen up quite a bit by now, his belly pushing hard against the edge of the table, the heavier rolls underneath pressing down on his lap. He’d scooted back several times to give himself more room, but his midsection kept bloating, his stomach becoming more compact as he glutted. He may have been used to a good workout at the gym, but his stomach was used to a good workout at mealtime.
When the green Faerian came back with his dessert, Arro thanked her and gave Rangavar a questioning look as a massive slice of cake was laid between them. Rangavar shook his head. Then he ordered another drink, grinning at Arro.
Arro rolled his eyes.
“Hey, I’ve eaten a lot of food. It’s not like I’m drinking on an empty stomach.”
“Just don’t expect me to take care of your light-weight ass. You walk yourself home, buddy.”
Despite Arro’s exasperation, Rangavar was feeling fine. The food was settling in his stomach, and while it was true he was starting to feel the drinks, it was really just a little bit. He just wanted to relax. “I’ll be fine,” he said as Arro glowered at him across the table.
The fat dragon pushed another forkful of dense, sugary cake into his mouth. “We’ll see.”
Rangavar smirked and ordered another.
The Darkal sipped his next drink as he watched Arro’s shirt continue to ride up, his belly expanding with the pressure of endless food being dumped into it. It hung heavily over the waistband of his pants at this point, his rolls easily absorbing the belt buckle as the leading edge of his gut stretched to its limit.
It wasn’t until Arro was almost done working his way through the icecream that the inevitable happened: The button gave up. The metal nub pinged sharply off Rangavar’s knee, making him jolt and growl in surprise. The two dragons stared at each other a moment.
The release of the button caused Arro’s expanded gut to surge forwards, finally freed of its constricting prison. His shirt rode up even higher as the fat settled onto his lap, pushing hard against the table, and Arro seemed to notice for the first time. He quickly grabbed the bottom hem to pull the shirt back down, but it was no use at this point. That point was long past. He was too bloated from stuffing himself, unable to squeeze back into it, especially since it hadn’t quite covered him completely to begin with.
Rangavar rubbed his knee. At least the button had only hit his knee, and not another patron. “Do you want to go home?”
His ears flat, Arro glanced down at his icecream. It was gone. He’d devoured everything put in front of him. “Yeah,” he sighed. Rangavar figured his embarrassment outweighed his desire to eat even more, which Rangavar suspected he might do otherwise.
Their server didn’t need prompting to come over with their check. Perhaps she’d noticed the button, and the way that Arro’s shirt had ridden up over his expanse of belly. It was hard not to. Rangavar was done anyway, too, feeling full and pleasantly relaxed from the drinks. Not drunk, of course. No matter what Arro said.
After Rangavar paid the tab, the bloated Faerian tried to stand, although he accidentally bumped the table hard with his belly on his way up, not realizing how much it had distended over the course of his feast. He started to blush as a few dragons from other tables looked their way at the sound of jostled silverware. He finished wriggling up from under the table more carefully, scooting his chair back as far as there was room. He used one paw to hold up the waistband of his pants, trying to look casual, as if it were normal to be missing a button after dinner.
Rangavar stood as well, although he tripped over his own foot and caught himself on the back of the chair. Not that he was drunk or anything. Not at all. He never really got ‘drunk’, contrary to what Arro said. Drunk? Not him. He took a tentative step around the table.
Arro rolled his eyes and extended his free paw to hold onto the smaller dragon.
They left uneventfully, fortunately, the crisp night air making Rangavar pull his wings in tighter. The bright globes of the lamps along the street cast a pleasant glow as they walked down the sidewalk. Arro continued to hike up one side of his defeated pants, not allowing them to escape down his ass to safety, and kept his other arm around Rangavar. The Darkal had to admit he might be a bit tipsy. Although not drunk, of course.
At one point, once there weren’t people around, Arro stopped and dipped into the shadow of a building to remove the too-small clothes. The pants actually took a bit of jerking to get down his tree-trunk legs, and the shirt had risen up over his bloated belly like a crop top, making it harder to pull his wings through the back. He ended up sitting so that Rangavar could stand over him and help, teasing the wings through the shirt and pulling it up over Arro’s head when the fat Faerian lifted his arms. Rangavar giggled as the pink-scaled dragon was freed.
“Yeah, ha-ha. Let’s get your drunk ass home, too.”
“I’m not drunk,” Rangavar reminded him, stumbling slightly as he backed away to give Arro room to stand up.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m not!” He hopped back up onto the sidewalk, the crisp night air feeling intense in his lungs, the soft white glow of the lamps illuminating the street. He stumbled for a moment, catching himself with a pinwheel of his arms.
“Careful there. I told you I wasn’t going to take care of your drunk ass.”
“You distracted me and I tripped,” Rangavar retorted.
Arro took a few quick steps to catch up, not quite able to run, his full belly hanging over his thighs. He had the pants and shirt folding up, clutched under one arm. They would probably return the pants in the morning. They were clearly not made for wearing while eating.
Rangavar realized he didn’t want his own pants on anymore. He reached down and unbuttoned them, starting to pull them down.
“Rangavar! We’re in the middle of the street.”
“So?” he retorted. “You’re walking around naked. Why can’t people walk around half-naked?”
“Okay, you have an excellent point, but can we at least move over and stop for a second?”
The Darkal didn’t really care to do any of the stuff that Arro had just said. He was done wearing pants for the night. “Well—” He tripped as he tried pulling his leg up through the pants while stepping forward at the same time, making him lose his balance. He fell forward onto the pavement. He supposed he should have thought that through.
After being stunned for a moment, he heard the Faerian let out a snort that was somewhere between exasperated and amused. “You know you have the worst ideas when you’re drunk.”
“You had some drinks too.”
“I’m not the one lying face-down in the middle of the street with my pants halfway off.”
Yeah, that was true. Arro was so right sometimes. Rangavar picked up his head, putting his paws against the pavement to push himself up. He rolled into a sitting position and kicked the pants the rest of the way off his legs so he could get up without tripping again. Suddenly, Arro was helping him, dragging the pants the rest of the way off his feet.
“Thanks.”
Arro tried to suppress a small smile, but didn’t succeed. “Get your ass back up off the ground and let’s go home before you do anything else stupid.”
That sounded like a pretty good idea. Arro grabbed one of his paws and hauled him back to his feet. They walked like that for a while; holding paws. Arro’s was warm. The larger, pudgier fingers dwarfed Rangavar’s.
In spite of everything, they walked the more ‘scenic’ route. There was a tiny path with some trees, more scattered lamps, and a short walking bridge. Rangavar enjoyed the cool dirt beneath his paws as they turned off the main road onto the path, and admired the way that the dew forming on the grass sparkled around them beneath the soft lamplight. He enjoyed Arro’s emotions, too. The Faerian was feeling calm and satisfied.
They paused when they reached the small bridge, Rangavar walking to the middle and leaning his arms on the railing, looking down at the water. It was dark with night, but the moon reflected off its surface. Karraden had one moon. It was lovely.
Arro came up and stood behind him, putting a paw behind Rangavar’s shoulders and rubbing them gently. They stared at the water together. At the reflection of the moon together.
The Darkal turned around and leaned his back against the railing, looking up at the larger Faerian. “It isn’t fair, you know.”
“Hm?”
“It’s not fair.”
Arro stared at him blankly. “What’s not fair?”
“That I’m not tall enough to kiss you whenever I want.”
Arro smirked. “You have to ask nicely.”
“Please?”
“Please what? Can you be more specific?”
“Arro!”
The larger dragon laughed and brushed the side of Rangavar’s face with his thumb. “Fiiiine.”
They kissed. Rangavar wrapped his arms around the back of the Faerian’s neck and didn’t let go.
I am here to deliver a spoiler alert for a pressing question:
Will I ever decide on a consistent word format for the thumbnail??? The answer is: probably not
:P
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Hive Mind
Chapter 3
The two dragons stopped in front of what looked like a restaurant. Or particularly, what smelled like a restaurant: the pleasant scent of food wafted out as the doors opened and closed.
Another dragon stopped them as they approached the entrance. She had black scales, which didn’t seem to be unusual for females on Karraden, but was striking nonetheless. "Sorry, this is a restaurant.” She looked them up and down. “You need to wear clothes.”
Rangavar frowned. “I thought Karraden only makes dragons wear clothes for work?”
Her expression softened, a bit more understanding upon realizing they weren’t locals. “It’s more that clothes are for formal activities. Work is one such activity, that’s true.” She gestured at the building behind her. “Eating in a real restaurant is another. Although there are smaller cafes and bars you two might be interested in..?”
Rangavar flattened his ears and glanced up at Arro. Neither of them were really interested in alternate suggestions. Arro just nodded and thanked her before they turned and continued down the sidewalk.
“Vaugh dammit,” Rangavar growled. “I hate clothes. Everyone should go back to when they weren’t mandatory for anything.”
“I hate them too.” Arro self-consciously clutched at his belly. “I don’t always, uh, have a lot of luck finding any. That fit me, I mean.” The larger dragon looked around. “I guess we have to go home. Or, uh, I suppose we could always buy some.”
Rangavar looked around too. Darkness had descended on the city by now, but the sun set so early on Karraden that the people had adapted by filling the streets with lights, keeping their bodies at a normal schedule. Things were still open. “Do you want to go right now?”
“To get clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like it would be weird to disappear for a while and come back with clothes, asking to come back in.” Arro pressed his index fingers together. “Heh. Like we’re reeking of desperation to get inside, or something.”
Rangavar snorted. “Literally no one is thinking that.”
“They might be.”
“If you’re so worried, we can just go to a different restaurant, then.” Rangavar glanced around at the other many buildings on the city streets. “Although we’ll probably still have to get clothes.”
The large Faerian looked uncertain. But Rangavar knew that Arro knew he was right. “Okay…”
Rangavar gave his paw a squeeze and looked up at him. “It’ll be fine.”
Arro was blushing. “Easy for you to say. Everything will fit you.”
Yeah. That wasn’t really fair.
“I’ll try to find something, though,” Arro promised.
It took them longer to find a clothing store than it had to find the restaurant. Of course, neither could use their keen sense of smell to help them find clothes as easily as food. Rangavar glanced around at the signs on the street. He could see Arro’s eyes flicking back and forth as he read them.
They finally found a store. The front of the building was pretty bland, although it had a lot of floors. “I’m sure you’ll find something in here,” Rangavar encouraged as Arro slowed in front of the double doors. Rangavar pushed one open for them, although his arms weren’t long enough to push both far enough, since Arro needed an ample amount of space to walk through. Arro bumped open the other door with his elbow.
Rangavar’s eyes quickly swept the vast, singular room. To him, a lot of the clothes just looked identical. All of it was fairly plain. He supposed it was because they really were just reserved for ‘formal’ activities, which still sounded a bit vague to him, but whatever. It should be easy enough to grab something and go.
Unfortunately, he knew Arro would be a different story. He saw the Faerian anxiously bite his lip as he looked around. “Where do you think the biggest section is?”
“Do you think everything is organized by size?”
“It might be.” Arro hesitantly wandered forward. “I guess the only way to find out is to start looking, huh.”
There was also a friendly-looking dragon at the counter that they could probably ask, too, but Rangavar didn’t point that out. He figured that maybe Arro didn’t want to ask because he was embarrassed about his size. No matter what Rangavar ever said to him, or how often he assured him that he was handsome, and cute, and looked great, Arro was forever doubtful.
Rangavar went over to a section of clothes that looked more his size and grabbed something plain off the rack; boring white shirt, boring black pants. That seemed basic enough, right? He went to where Arro had begun picking through the largest section. The hefty dragon wrinkled his snout at a few things when he held them up, all of which looked slightly too small.
“Do you think there’s larger stuff on other floors?” Rangavar glanced around as he approached, lost in a sea of racks slightly taller than him to hold the much larger clothes on this end of the store. He supposed it was so that the bottoms didn’t trail on the ground. The clothes really were huge. There had to be something for Arro to wear.
The significantly fatter dragon grimaced at the very wide pair of black pants he was holding. “I don’t think the other floors are even for clothing, based on the sign outside. I think this is what we have to choose from.”
“Can you try them on?”
“I mean… I guess.” He didn’t seem very sure, like he already knew they wouldn’t fit. But there also didn’t appear to be any sizes larger than what he had in his paws.
They walked back to the fitting rooms, Rangavar wondering if he should bother trying on his as well. Maybe he would, since he had to wait for Arro anyway. The fat Faerian had also snatched a white shirt off the rack to match Rangavar’s.
He suddenly paused in front of a mirror, catching sight of all the little flecks of grass and dirt still stuck to his scales from the park. “Vaugh dammit, Arro.” He started to brush himself off. “Why didn’t you tell me I was so dirty? No wonder she turned us away, I look like I crawled out of a ditch.”
“Aw, but you’re so cute, you should have some self-confidence.” Arro smirked. “Isn’t that what you always tell me when I worry about my looks?” He put his paws up and ducked as Rangavar threw an empty shirt hanger at him. The Darkal growled to himself as he shut the fitting room door and shook out his clothes.
Yup, they fit. The pants hugged his thighs a bit where he’d been building a slight amount of muscle. Arro could make fun of him all he wanted, but there was definitely a bit more definition to his legs. He was sure of it.
He turned a little, looking at where the waistband sat beneath his tail. He just hoped they made his butt look good. Arro complimented his butt a lot.
The shirt was more of a loose, mesh-like material that Rangavar was pretty familiar with. It was made up of tiny, metallic threads that were overly flexible but hard to break, and the way that they interlocked made them less likely to wear down against dragon scales. The material had been invented centuries ago, and didn’t appear to have changed. Every now and then, when Rangavar found little familiar things the same over the centuries, he felt a tiny bit of satisfaction.
He inspected himself in the mirror. The neck of the shirt lay wide across his shoulders, but he wasn’t sure he could go any smaller because of his horns. And although his wings fit comfortably out the slits in the back, those couldn’t go smaller, for sure.
He heard Arro grunting in the stall next to his. He wondered if he should check on him. He wondered if it would be weird to interrupt.
“Hey Rangavar?”
Apparently, not too weird.
“Can I, uh… get a second opinion?”
Rangavar opened the door and walked around to Arro’s door. The Faerian’s bulk was too large to cram into a normal stall with still enough room to try on clothes, so he’d taken the larger stall for people with mobility aids instead, since luckily they were the only two dragons in the store right now. Rangavar knocked.
“Yeah.”
The smaller dragon immediately saw the problem. Arro was panting and red in the face, not necessarily from trying to pull up the pants, but… from trying to button them.
The black pants clung tightly to his frame, his blubbery thighs straining the fabric to their limits and a muffin top exploding over the waistband. But they hung in there, doing their best to contain the entirety of the ample, overflowing adipose. The obvious problem, though, was that Arro couldn’t reach the buttons. It was true that his custom-sized clothing at work fit better ever since he’d toned his body a bit at the gym, but these pants weren’t custom-sized, and he simply couldn’t reach as far as he needed to into the overhang of his belly. He blushed furiously under the Darkal’s gaze. “I, uh, think these were already the biggest size.”
Rangavar thought he was probably right. They were. “Do you want to go to a different store?”
“What if you just…” If it were possible, Arro blushed harder. “Do you think you could reach?”
“Oh. Sure. Okay.” Rangavar tried to sound casual. He could tell that Arro was mortified just by needing to ask.
He crouched down in front of the struggling Faerian while Arro looked elsewhere. He gently took the flaps from the other dragon’s paws and tugged them together. Wow. They were not about to close anytime soon.
“Did you get it?”
“How much pain are you willing to endure for the chance to eat?” the smaller dragon asked carefully. The flaps weren’t really even that close to each other. They weren’t side by side like a pair of twins, but more like distant cousins who had never met.
“Uh…” He knew Arro was blushing without needing to look up at him. He just knew. The fat dragon shifted uncomfortably, which visibly put pressure on all the seams. It was a moment before he apparently came to a decision. “I’m just going to, uh, suck in more, okay? I just… Going to just one store will be good enough. Y’know?”
Rangavar took a deep breath. “Okay.”
Arro sucked in, and the Darkal hauled on the flaps again, straining to close them, Arro’s protruding gut hanging over Rangavar’s head as the pants forced more of the bulge over the waistband. He wondered if maybe he should just do this every day, and he wouldn’t need to go to the gym. Or, well, maybe he did need to go to the gym, only to build up the strength for this activity in particular.
Against the odds, he surprised himself by getting the button through the hole. He immediately zipped up the pants without wasting a moment. “They’re closed.”
He stood as Arro released his breath and his heavy rolls surged harder than ever against the waistband, but fortunately the button held. Whatever else they were, at least the pants were clearly high-quality.
The fat dragon stared unhappily at the stuffed pants in the mirror, but both dragons knew they had rather limited options. “Do you think I can wear these out of here when we pay so that I don’t have to go through that again?”
“I don’t see why not.” The poor cashier probably wouldn’t want to spend any extra time listening to them exert themselves in the dressing rooms, either. Vaugh only knew what he thought they were up to.
Arro bent slowly when he reached for the shirt. The pants held. It was a bit easier for him to pull the shirt over his head, and even the neckline seemed a reasonable width compared to Arro’s broad shoulders. Pulling it down turned out to be the problem. The meshy material was flexible, but absolutely did not stretch.
Rangavar took the bottom edge of the shirt and tried to help tug it down alongside Arro’s pulling paws. It slid over his bulky chest, and even made its way down his belly, but… not quite far enough. His pants forcing his gut way over the top of the waistband made it hard for the shirt to reach over the protruding bulge. The bottom of his hanging roll showed underneath, just slightly.
“Do you think anyone will notice?” Arro sounded worried, but also genuinely couldn’t seem to tell from his vantage. Despite the large stall, he couldn’t back away from the mirror too much, and was too tall to see how much was visible underneath the curve of the shirt from standing so close to it.
Rangavar put his paw on his chin. “Nothing is super noticeable. And you’ll be sitting most of the night anyway.” That second half was true, at least. He thought of pointing out that the restaurant had only said to wear clothes, and not necessarily clothes that covered everything, but thought the comment might come out sounding a bit mean in this context.
They both stood there a minute, eyeing each other, the outfits matching. Well, mostly-matching. Rangavar wasn’t bursting out of his.
“You look great,” said Arro suddenly.
“You too,” Rangavar promised. He really meant that. Arro always looked great. He ended up pulling the much larger dragon into a reassuring hug. Arro’s overhanging belly kept him farther away from his face than he would have liked, but he still managed to rest the side of his face on Arro’s chest. He growled happily as Arro hugged him back. “Guess it’s time to go eat.”
Arro’s stomach suddenly roared in agreement, causing the Faerian to blush again.
The cashier was a pretty average Gemian with straight white horns, one in the center of his forehead, similar to a Darkal. And that was where their similarities ended, of course. The Gemian raised a brow at them as he was forced to scan the tags directly off Arro’s body before throwing them away. Fortunately, he didn’t offer any comment. Rangavar paid, waving his wristband in front of the scanner.
He was feeling a bit hungry himself as they finally found a restaurant, his appetite perhaps reawakened by the scent of food. They chose a different place than the one before so that Arro wouldn’t feel anxious. Rangavar knew he was a bit anxious anyway about his gut hanging out the bottom of his shirt. He seemed to trust Rangavar, though, as the smaller dragon assured him that it was barely noticeable. He almost felt guilty, but was mostly relieved that Faerians couldn’t hear lies.
A friendly, green-scaled Faerian seated them. “Can I start you off with some drinks?”
They started off just asking for water. After a few moments, she came back with their water and some complimentary bread for them to pick at while they looked over the menu. Rangavar stared at it. Most places he frequented didn’t have a physical menu. Although to be fair, he didn’t go to many places.
“Pfft. Telling us we need clothes,” Arro muttered, scanning the plastic sheet. “I don’t see what’s so ‘formal’ about eating.” His paunch pressed up against the edge of the table as he leaned forward, both bulging over the edge and under it. There were technically booths available here, but they both remembered what happened last time.
The menu was covered in words. Rangavar tired of staring at it. “Want to order some ‘formal’ drinks?” he played on the word.
Arro glanced up at him. “No. Nooo way.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “You’re always exaggerating how ‘drunk’ I get. I don’t really get drunk.”
Arro leaned his chin on his paw. “Do you remember what you did the last time you drank?”
The Darkal thought for a moment. Nothing in particular came to mind. “No?”
Arro grinned. “Exactly.”
Rangavar scowled at him. “That’s not what I—”
“Are you two ready to order?” The friendly Faerian was back. She smiled at them.
“Uh… sure.” Arro sounded hesitant. He didn’t seem very impressed with the food they had to offer. He proceeded to order a small list of items that were mostly carbs, rather than any one actual meal.
When it was Rangavar’s turn, he glanced back down at the menu for a moment. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed Arro’s face fall he realized Rangavar didn’t know what it said.
“He’ll have what I’m having.”
Rangavar glanced up sharply. “Huh?”
Their Faerian server hesitantly wrote it down, giving him a moment to protest, but in the end, he didn’t. He didn’t want to make things more awkward. He did add a drink to the order though. A ‘formal’ drink, as he’d joked. Arro couldn’t keep him from doing that.
When the other dragon walked away, Rangavar turned back to the significantly larger Faerian and frowned. “I can’t eat nearly as much as you.”
Arro waved a paw. “I’ll eat whatever you don’t eat. Does that make you feel better?” He looked Rangavar up and down. He smirked. “Twig.”
Rangavar made a face at him.
Arro made a face back as he started taking some bread rolls off the table and stuffing them into his mouth. Rangavar debated whether or not to take one for himself. He didn’t want to get too full to eat the actual meal.
Well… Arro had promised to eat whatever he couldn’t. He tentatively reached for a roll. The other dragon had already worked his way through quite a few already, not leaving much time to decide.
Arro was finishing up the last one by the time Rangavar was finishing up his first. They didn’t bother asking for more; a mere few minutes later, the meals arrived. As expected, it was a small collection of carbs; mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and fries. Arro added a drink to his order, then frowned at Rangavar when the server walked away. “What? It’s pasta and two vegetables.”
“Technically, they’re the same vegetable.”
Arro rolled his eyes.
“That isn’t a real meal and you know it.”
“Anything is a real meal.”
“I’m going to throw that phrase back in your face the next time you make fun of me for eating fruit, you know. I hope you know that.”
The Faerian snorted, unconcerned, as he began digging into the food.
Rangavar began to eat as well. Arro always made fun of him for being picky, but this was stuff he actually found pretty good. There was so much of it, though. So, so much. He pushed a fry into his mouth.
In contrast, Arro was really going at it, shoveling fistfuls of fries into his maw. His stomach had apparently forgotten about the donuts and milkshakes earlier. Or perhaps he’d burned off all the energy while dragging himself out from under that table? Either way, his food was quickly disappearing, in addition to the bread basket he’d already devoured.
Rangavar alternated between taking bites of his food and sipping his drink. He wasn’t even all that hungry after the bread roll. But it was true that the food looked good, and his nostrils widened at the smell. He did wordlessly push the rest of his mashed potatoes at Arro, though. The fatter dragon was quickly finishing up his own. Arro grunted a small ‘thanks’ around a mouthful of food, briefly glancing up from his plate.
The gorging dragon leaned back a bit, his shirt riding up on his belly as it swelled with the dense, heavy food being packed into it at a rapid rate. He didn’t slow for a moment as he quickly consumed the entire dish. Rangavar ended up pushing his mac and cheese over next. He hardly considered it ‘pasta’, no matter what Arro had said, but whatever. He did greedily guard his fries, though.
When their server came back over, Arro ordered another drink. Rangavar did too, and smirked when the other dragon gave him a look. He didn’t see what the big deal was. Technically, since he was a Darkal, he was supposed to have the higher tolerance. Arro thought their drink tolerances were more matched because of his sheer size, but Rangavar could definitely hold his own. Arro didn’t know what he was talking about.
“This is nice,” said Rangavar, chewing thoughtfully on some fries. “Maybe we should eat out more often. Instead of just sitting at home all the time.”
“In… in public?” Arro blushed.
Oh. Right. “Can you just take my word for it that no one here is thinking about you?”
“You can’t read their actual thoughts, only their emotions. So you can’t say that.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “Okay. No one here is feeling any way about you. Better?”
“Weirdly enough, yeah.” Arro glanced around. “I really want to believe you.”
Before the Darkal could further convince him, their server returned to the table. Arro asked what they offered for desserts.
“Of course.” The green dragon smiled warmly. “Just a few basic things. Icecream, brownies, cake…” She started to clear some of the empty plates, most of which were in front of Arro. “Do any of those things interest you? They’re not just plain, just so you know, like, the brownie comes with a scoop of icecream, and you can get whatever toppings you want, and we have all sorts of flavors of cake to order…”
Arro looked to his companion. “Do you want to split a piece of cake?”
Rangavar hesitated. He wasn’t a huge fan of cake.
Arro raised a brow. “Icecream?”
Rangavar wasn’t sure. He’d just had a milkshake earlier.
Arro sighed. “You’re hopeless.” He turned back to the waitress. “I’ll be happy to have both of those, actually.” He shot Rangavar another look. “And you’re welcome to share them with me, you know.”
Rangavar stared back. He’d have to think about it. He sipped smoothly on his second drink. He also still had his fries to finish up.
When the server walked off to bring the rest of Arro’s food, Rangavar finally shared his fries. The larger dragon grabbed generous pawfuls for himself. Rangavar gave up and pushed the rest across the table at him. He was pretty stuffed anyway. He was in no way any competition for Arro, but he’d still be excited to take his own pants off when they got out of here.
The fatter dragon’s shirt had risen up quite a bit by now, his belly pushing hard against the edge of the table, the heavier rolls underneath pressing down on his lap. He’d scooted back several times to give himself more room, but his midsection kept bloating, his stomach becoming more compact as he glutted. He may have been used to a good workout at the gym, but his stomach was used to a good workout at mealtime.
When the green Faerian came back with his dessert, Arro thanked her and gave Rangavar a questioning look as a massive slice of cake was laid between them. Rangavar shook his head. Then he ordered another drink, grinning at Arro.
Arro rolled his eyes.
“Hey, I’ve eaten a lot of food. It’s not like I’m drinking on an empty stomach.”
“Just don’t expect me to take care of your light-weight ass. You walk yourself home, buddy.”
Despite Arro’s exasperation, Rangavar was feeling fine. The food was settling in his stomach, and while it was true he was starting to feel the drinks, it was really just a little bit. He just wanted to relax. “I’ll be fine,” he said as Arro glowered at him across the table.
The fat dragon pushed another forkful of dense, sugary cake into his mouth. “We’ll see.”
Rangavar smirked and ordered another.
The Darkal sipped his next drink as he watched Arro’s shirt continue to ride up, his belly expanding with the pressure of endless food being dumped into it. It hung heavily over the waistband of his pants at this point, his rolls easily absorbing the belt buckle as the leading edge of his gut stretched to its limit.
It wasn’t until Arro was almost done working his way through the icecream that the inevitable happened: The button gave up. The metal nub pinged sharply off Rangavar’s knee, making him jolt and growl in surprise. The two dragons stared at each other a moment.
The release of the button caused Arro’s expanded gut to surge forwards, finally freed of its constricting prison. His shirt rode up even higher as the fat settled onto his lap, pushing hard against the table, and Arro seemed to notice for the first time. He quickly grabbed the bottom hem to pull the shirt back down, but it was no use at this point. That point was long past. He was too bloated from stuffing himself, unable to squeeze back into it, especially since it hadn’t quite covered him completely to begin with.
Rangavar rubbed his knee. At least the button had only hit his knee, and not another patron. “Do you want to go home?”
His ears flat, Arro glanced down at his icecream. It was gone. He’d devoured everything put in front of him. “Yeah,” he sighed. Rangavar figured his embarrassment outweighed his desire to eat even more, which Rangavar suspected he might do otherwise.
Their server didn’t need prompting to come over with their check. Perhaps she’d noticed the button, and the way that Arro’s shirt had ridden up over his expanse of belly. It was hard not to. Rangavar was done anyway, too, feeling full and pleasantly relaxed from the drinks. Not drunk, of course. No matter what Arro said.
After Rangavar paid the tab, the bloated Faerian tried to stand, although he accidentally bumped the table hard with his belly on his way up, not realizing how much it had distended over the course of his feast. He started to blush as a few dragons from other tables looked their way at the sound of jostled silverware. He finished wriggling up from under the table more carefully, scooting his chair back as far as there was room. He used one paw to hold up the waistband of his pants, trying to look casual, as if it were normal to be missing a button after dinner.
Rangavar stood as well, although he tripped over his own foot and caught himself on the back of the chair. Not that he was drunk or anything. Not at all. He never really got ‘drunk’, contrary to what Arro said. Drunk? Not him. He took a tentative step around the table.
Arro rolled his eyes and extended his free paw to hold onto the smaller dragon.
They left uneventfully, fortunately, the crisp night air making Rangavar pull his wings in tighter. The bright globes of the lamps along the street cast a pleasant glow as they walked down the sidewalk. Arro continued to hike up one side of his defeated pants, not allowing them to escape down his ass to safety, and kept his other arm around Rangavar. The Darkal had to admit he might be a bit tipsy. Although not drunk, of course.
At one point, once there weren’t people around, Arro stopped and dipped into the shadow of a building to remove the too-small clothes. The pants actually took a bit of jerking to get down his tree-trunk legs, and the shirt had risen up over his bloated belly like a crop top, making it harder to pull his wings through the back. He ended up sitting so that Rangavar could stand over him and help, teasing the wings through the shirt and pulling it up over Arro’s head when the fat Faerian lifted his arms. Rangavar giggled as the pink-scaled dragon was freed.
“Yeah, ha-ha. Let’s get your drunk ass home, too.”
“I’m not drunk,” Rangavar reminded him, stumbling slightly as he backed away to give Arro room to stand up.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m not!” He hopped back up onto the sidewalk, the crisp night air feeling intense in his lungs, the soft white glow of the lamps illuminating the street. He stumbled for a moment, catching himself with a pinwheel of his arms.
“Careful there. I told you I wasn’t going to take care of your drunk ass.”
“You distracted me and I tripped,” Rangavar retorted.
Arro took a few quick steps to catch up, not quite able to run, his full belly hanging over his thighs. He had the pants and shirt folding up, clutched under one arm. They would probably return the pants in the morning. They were clearly not made for wearing while eating.
Rangavar realized he didn’t want his own pants on anymore. He reached down and unbuttoned them, starting to pull them down.
“Rangavar! We’re in the middle of the street.”
“So?” he retorted. “You’re walking around naked. Why can’t people walk around half-naked?”
“Okay, you have an excellent point, but can we at least move over and stop for a second?”
The Darkal didn’t really care to do any of the stuff that Arro had just said. He was done wearing pants for the night. “Well—” He tripped as he tried pulling his leg up through the pants while stepping forward at the same time, making him lose his balance. He fell forward onto the pavement. He supposed he should have thought that through.
After being stunned for a moment, he heard the Faerian let out a snort that was somewhere between exasperated and amused. “You know you have the worst ideas when you’re drunk.”
“You had some drinks too.”
“I’m not the one lying face-down in the middle of the street with my pants halfway off.”
Yeah, that was true. Arro was so right sometimes. Rangavar picked up his head, putting his paws against the pavement to push himself up. He rolled into a sitting position and kicked the pants the rest of the way off his legs so he could get up without tripping again. Suddenly, Arro was helping him, dragging the pants the rest of the way off his feet.
“Thanks.”
Arro tried to suppress a small smile, but didn’t succeed. “Get your ass back up off the ground and let’s go home before you do anything else stupid.”
That sounded like a pretty good idea. Arro grabbed one of his paws and hauled him back to his feet. They walked like that for a while; holding paws. Arro’s was warm. The larger, pudgier fingers dwarfed Rangavar’s.
In spite of everything, they walked the more ‘scenic’ route. There was a tiny path with some trees, more scattered lamps, and a short walking bridge. Rangavar enjoyed the cool dirt beneath his paws as they turned off the main road onto the path, and admired the way that the dew forming on the grass sparkled around them beneath the soft lamplight. He enjoyed Arro’s emotions, too. The Faerian was feeling calm and satisfied.
They paused when they reached the small bridge, Rangavar walking to the middle and leaning his arms on the railing, looking down at the water. It was dark with night, but the moon reflected off its surface. Karraden had one moon. It was lovely.
Arro came up and stood behind him, putting a paw behind Rangavar’s shoulders and rubbing them gently. They stared at the water together. At the reflection of the moon together.
The Darkal turned around and leaned his back against the railing, looking up at the larger Faerian. “It isn’t fair, you know.”
“Hm?”
“It’s not fair.”
Arro stared at him blankly. “What’s not fair?”
“That I’m not tall enough to kiss you whenever I want.”
Arro smirked. “You have to ask nicely.”
“Please?”
“Please what? Can you be more specific?”
“Arro!”
The larger dragon laughed and brushed the side of Rangavar’s face with his thumb. “Fiiiine.”
They kissed. Rangavar wrapped his arms around the back of the Faerian’s neck and didn’t let go.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Dragon (Other)
Size 118 x 120px
File Size 58 kB
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