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Something is off, was the first thought that ran through Azhdaha’s head as he woke to an empty bed. He muffled a yawn, pushing himself upright as his sleep-hazed mind tried to put two and two together.
Elsewhere in the (mostly unfamiliar, though he hoped that would change) bedroom, something—no, some one —was moving around, opening closets and drawers and picking things up and putting them down. A someone who had a suspiciously similar silhouette to the owner of this bedroom, someone who by all rights should still be in bed with him.
“Morax?” Azhdaha called, scrubbing at his eyes as he squinted in the dark. He groped around for his glasses on the bedside table, sliding them on his face as he tried to make out what the hell Morax thought he was doing at—he took a quick glance outside, making a soft sound of despair— four in the morning. “Morax, what are you doing?”
“Good morning, Azhdaha,” Morax laughed quietly, lighting a lamp to illuminate the room. The sudden light stabbed into Azhdaha’s eyes and he hissed, hiding his face in the blankets. “I am merely getting dressed for the day. Why are you so confused?”
“...you’re getting dressed? ”
“I am. What is wrong? There is a lot to do, and I like to start as early as I can.”
Azhdaha unburied his face to stare at him, vaguely horrified. “...please do not tell me this is the time you usually wake up?” No. No, this can’t be. I can’t have fallen in love with a morning person.
Morax frowned. “It is. Is something wrong?”
“For the love of all that is sacred and much that isn’t, Morax, it’s four in the fucking morning. It’s far too early for anyone sane to be awake.” He reached out, expression pleading. “Please come back to bed.”
“But why? We both have things to do, and you’ll be sleeping here with me again tonight. Are you still tired?”
“I don’t understand why you’re not.”
Morax brought the lamp over and perched at the edge of the bed, taking Azhdaha’s outstretched hand in his free one. “I have plenty of energy. You’re just old,” he said bluntly. “Did you not sleep well? Was my presence discomfiting? This is the first time we have shared a bed, did you dislike it?”
“I only count the years I remember,” Azhdaha objected. “And I do not think the time I spent underground should count in its entirety. I am not that old.” He’d only claim to be thirty-two thousand years old if he could remember any of the life he had before being buried into the ground. Until then, he’d claim only twelve thousand years at most, including all the time he’d spent stuck underground.
“You are avoiding the question.” Morax’s shoulders drooped slightly. “Am I not a suitable bed partner?”
“Don’t say that,” Azhdaha said immediately, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Ah, of course he would take it that way. How could he even think anything like that? He reached out to cup Morax’s face in his other hand, brushing his thumb under his golden eye. “I adore you. You know this. My lack of energy has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with the fact that it’s four in the morning and I normally do not wake until seven, and even then only with great difficulty. Should I give in wholly to the whims of my body, I doubt you would see me before noon. I had been hoping that you would stay with me until then. You are the perfect bed partner, my beloved sun, and I am loath to let you leave my arms so soon.”
Morax bit his lip, leaning into his palm. “Guizhong asked me to do some tasks for her…”
Ah. He would need to pull out all the stops, then, if he wanted Morax to stay. Morax’s older sister had him wrapped around her little finger, and he adored her.
“You would abandon me like this?” he said, changing tactics. “You said it yourself—this is the first time we have shared a bed, and yet you seem all too eager to leave. Do I displease you, somehow?”
“No, of course not—don’t say that, it makes my chest feel heavy and strange and I don’t like it.”
“If I don’t displease you then stay with me a little longer. I want to savor what’s left of the night, Morax. I want to hold you close and warm you until someone knocks on your door to rouse us. Indulge me just this once? Tomorrow I will resign myself to waking alone, because fate has blessed me with a lover who is a morning person .”
The younger dragon looked wildly indecisive.
“Please?” Azhdaha tried. “Just this once. I…I will never ask this of you again.” As much as he’d hate it. “A promise made in your presence, God of Contracts, is a binding one, isn’t it?”
“You don’t need to promise me that,” Morax mumbled, almost reluctantly. He set the lamp down before pulling away, removing his outer layers of clothing. “I don’t think I want you to hide what you want from me. That’s hardly a fair contract, and I would be prevented from fulfilling my duties as your lover.” He slowly slid back into bed, reaching out to lace his fingers with Azhdaha’s. “Even if I’m not entirely sure what I’m meant to do. I have not done such things with anyone else before you.”
Ah, he will be the death of me. Azhdaha had to smile, even through his drowsiness. Morax was just too precious when he was confused. He knew the behavior would likely fade with time as Morax grew to settle into their relationship and they found a comfortable equilibrium, so he would cherish it while it lasted. “We will figure it out. We always do, don’t we?”
“Mm…” Morax blinked at him lazily, letting out a rumbling purr, and Azhdaha carefully drew him closer. Oh, he looks so comfortable in my arms...thank you for indulging me, my sun. “Yes. We do.”
“For now…” Azhdaha yawned, burying his face in Morax’s hair. “For now let me warm you. Let me hold you close and revel in the fact that this is real.”
A quiet laugh came from his partner. “How will you do that if you are sleeping?”
“Hush,” he mumbled, words muffled by thick brown hair. “Let me have this?”
Morax’s hum of agreement lulled him to sleep again, content and secure in the fact that for at least a few more hours, he was not alone.