Archive of Our Own

“Akira, a word.”

Goro’s voice booms across the gardens, a threatening growl promising an argument as he stomps across the pavement and almost slips on a wet tile. He roars to distract from the embarrassment as he catches himself before he can fall on his admittedly large and definitely fall-breaking butt, then soars up and flies the last part only to land directly in front of the rose bushes with a mighty thud.

And yet the human in front of him is all but scared. He puts down the pruning shears at the sight of the dragon looming above him, his surprised face morphing into that same soft, affectionate smile Goro’s come to loathe and yearn for both. Akira lounges back against the bushes comfortably, facing Goro as if he was looking up at a particularly large critter instead of a deadly predator with fangs the size of his forearms, and ah. He must have spilled water over that tile on purpose, knowing by now how to defend his puny little form from him. Not for long, if Goro has his way, though...

“Yeah?” Akira cocks his head at him with a grin, crossing his arms behind his head. “Let me guess, I ate the last of the cookies Ann brought the other day and now you wanna bite off my head as always in revenge. Mhm, I’d like to see you try, you big bad dragon.”

The ground almost shakes as Goro growls and takes one step, two steps forward. He leans forward, close enough to make Akira’s smile wobble a little, seeing him bare his fangs. Goro huffs. It blows out hot, angry smoke that surrounds the tiny human in front of him in an instant. Akira, unbothered idiot that he is, merely fans aside the deadly fumes instead of coughing and making a fuss over getting away as people usually do. Zero survival instincts.

“You.” Goro reaches out with a sharp claw, poking him in the chest where there’s tons of holes in his shirt from how often he’s done that already. “You forgot to tell me a crucial detail about your person, and frankly, I feel betrayed now.” Goro huffs again, once again clouding Akira in smoke, even if less this time. “How dare you tell Sumire but not me. I thought we were—,” he grits his teeth at how hard it still is for him to say the word, “friends, Akira, but it seems I was mistaken. How disappointing of you.”

The human in question is now reduced to blinking stupidly up at him, hands lowering just so he can point at himself with his index finger. Goro hates how cute he looks even when he’s behaving like an utter idiot. “Me? What did I do?”

“Don’t play stupid. You know what you did.”

“Well, I don’t. Did I forget to change the hay of your bed again? Maybe stole some of your useless trinkets while sleepwalking again? Uh, fell asleep next to you again and almost got crushed by you cuddling up to me—”

“None of that!” Goro exclaims, feeling his scales turn red at the last utterly embarrassing part. “Akira, may I remind you it was apparently your birthday two days ago,” he growls, “and you didn’t bother telling me about it?”

“Oh.” He’s back to blinking at him stupidly, then shrugs as if that had been the least important event in the world. “Well, I kinda forgot as well. It’s hard to keep track of the days when you’re some snobby dragon’s prisoner hours away from civilisation, you know?”

Goro growls again. Just for good measure. “What do you mean, you forgot? It’s your birthday.”

He has the audacity to shrug again. Goro resigns himself to a single fantasy of burning him to a crisp, then sighs and forces himself to calm down. He’s too old for this, even if considerably young still and also the same age Akira just turned. Right. He almost forgot they’re the same age now. Something feels wrong about it, or maybe that’s just the internalised stereotype of how dragons should be thousands of years old.

“Well, there’s one single person who didn’t forget,” Goro mumbles. “Sumire brought you cake just now.” At Akira’s expression lighting up, Goro scoffs and looks away. “Before you get excited, I ate it all already. Don’t bother.”

“Oh.” Akira deflates, then smiles again, ever the optimist. “Was it tasty at least?”

“Incredibly so.” Goro paws at the ground in embarrassment. “I... promise to reimburse you in some way. You may let me cook dinner tonight.”

Akira laughs. “No need to, you’ll just set the kitchen on fire again. I’m gonna make you that stew you like so much with the chicken, sounds good?”

He can’t deny he could go for some chicken stew. In fact, he already feels himself salivating at tasting Akira’s special recipe he likes so much. “Well, if you insist,” he tries to not seem too excited, then remembers he’s on a mission here. “Hold on. No. It’s your birthday,” he growls. “You are not cooking for me on your birthday.”

“Kinda convenient that it’s not my birthday anymore, then, yeah?”

Goro grumbles in frustration. “Then I’ll release you from housework for a day instead. It will be your present.”

“I’d love to just lie in the sun all day with you, but the stables really need some cleaning today and the dishes have been piling up as well. Another time.”

He has a point, which doesn’t make it less frustrating. Goro exhales angry fumes.

“Is there anything in my collection you’ve been eyeing? You can have it. Feel free to take it.”

Akira laughs. “You say that as if you’re not housing the master thief himself.” Smirking, he brings up his hand, wiggling his fingers to present the various rings and bracelets he’s stolen for himself since his “imprisonment.” With disdain, Goro catches sight of a few new additions he wasn’t yet aware of.

“You are awful,” he mumbles. “Stealing from unsuspecting dragons.”

“Mhm, so I’ve been told.” Ever the annoyance, Akira has the gall to cock his head at him, giving him that look that haunts him in all his dreams and nightmares both nowadays. “What are you gonna do about it? Punish me? Threaten to eat me again?"

He grits his teeth, takes a step backwards lest he does something weird like lick him like his instincts are telling him to do just to see him lose that smirk. “Since it’s your birthday,” he announces, “you will get away with it for now. It will also be your birthday gift. Am I not so kind?” He smirks at him too, all danger and sharp teeth and none of Akira’s allure.

Akira looks smitten regardless and Goro thinks idly that it might be time to sharpen his claws again and rip a few pieces of meat apart in front of Akira’s eyes. He’s getting too comfortable.

“You’re sooo kind indeed,” Akira chirps, obviously amused when he should be threatened. “The kindest dragon I know.”

He keeps himself from playing right into his prisoner’s hands by making up more threats to try and intimidate him, an endeavour that has never been anything but fruitless. In fact, he’s feeling like surprising Akira now, catching him off-guard in ways he hasn’t yet foreseen, and it just so happens that several plans for how to do that are bouncing around in his head currently. All of them require Akira to be some degree of unassuming, though, and given that it’s hard to hide from him when you’re a dragon the size of three horses…

“You are banished to the dungeons for your birthday,” Goro announces, building himself up threateningly like the villain he is.

Akira, for his part, only stares at him rather... dreamily. “And what then?”

Goro huffs in indignation. “Well, then I’ll eventually release you a few days later. Prisoners cost time and money.”

“Boring. What are the alternatives? Eating me?” Akira bats his eyelashes at him.

“My palate is too refined to consume trash,” Goro hisses, upset he’s apparently not being taken seriously. Now that his plans are solidifying more in his mind, he does need a way to get rid of Akira for a good day, though. The dungeons are the next best option, but then again—his size would make it quite hard to actually lock him in there, wouldn’t it? A different solution has to be found.

He sees Akira gear up for a comeback that will no doubt leave him a crimson dragon instead of a purple one and it’s precisely what gives him an idea that makes him strike immediately. One lunge forward with his maw open and next thing he knows, his human is immobilised between his teeth, letting out a sharp yelp as Goro immediately takes off into the air.

“Goro, what the hell?!” There’s a few feeble kicks, but nothing like the first time he swooped Akira up and away to his castle. Ah, memories. How long it has been since then. Akira only got more annoying from that day on, but at the same time also improved both his cooking and household services, and Goro tells himself it’s that growth only that makes him feel warm about the time that has passed.

“Shut up,” he mumbles into the body held in his maw, wings making a few more mighty flaps until he’s finally high above his castle, angling himself and gliding off into the distance.

It takes Akira a few more panicked sounds and kicks until he calms down enough to properly speak. “If this is my gift, congrats, really swept me off my feet,” he jokes dryly. Goro rolls his eyes and ignores him. “You know, other people give their friends a nice shirt or food or something for their birthday. I don’t know about dragon culture, but I think you guys could learn a thing or two from us if this is all.”

Goro lets out a mighty growl that promptly shuts Akira up, and he’s pleased to find that some things always stay the same when you’re impossibly high up in the air. Satisfied with his silence, he sets course towards the West. Idly, he wonders if he should have clothed Akira in something warmer, given how cold he could get during flying. Rectifying his mistake, Goro exhales the slightest bit of warm smoke, then promptly stops when he feels Akira shiver beautifully in his maw in a way that makes him feel a few too many things. Concentrate on flying and not eating him, you big stupid idiot.

A few minutes of awkward silence later and he lands next to a familiar cottage, throwing Akira right into a haystack. He resurfaces with a groan, spitting a piece of hay out of his mouth. “If you wanted to visit Futaba and Sojiro, you could have just said so,” he grumbles. “We have a saddle for things like this. Hell, we have a horse. Loki would have been glad for the extra trip.”

“Oh, you misunderstand.” Goro smirks at him. “I’m not the one who’s gonna visit them.” He comes closer to put his maw around Akira once again just to lift him out of the hay and dump him next to the pile. Akira only makes a mildly inconvenienced noise this time as he lets himself be moved around, probably used to worse if Goro thinks about how often he’s had his puny little body between his teeth already for less important reasons.

“You feeling antisocial? Should I do the knocking?” Akira scoffs, brushing the hay off his clothes. “Really, sometimes I don’t know what’s going on in your head. This my birthday surprise?”

“Quite the opposite.”

Before Akira can do anything, Goro shoves him aside to get to the door, tail surging forward for three mighty knocks that are just weak enough to merely make the cottage shake. He hears a frustrated groan from inside, hears Sojiro yelling for Futaba that her friends are here, the big and the annoying one, then quick steps inside the house as Goro scowls to himself. Has he gained weight recently...? It must be all those desserts Akira keeps feeding him. He’s probably only doing it to make fun of him for getting fatter, or worse, maybe he’s planning to immobilise him more and more until he can plot his escape, and then Goro will be too big and plump to even make it one feet into the air...

The door gets ripped open, a dishevelled Futaba looking right into his face, long black hair pointing into every direction possible and pupils ridiculously small from facing the outside light after what Goro can only assume to be another of her infamous all-nighters.

His tail stands up, pointing at Akira who’s still plucking hay out of his hair. “It’s his birthday,” Goro says, “do with him what you want, but bring him back at sunset. There will be a celebration, I’ve decided.”

Futaba makes a sound reminiscent of a dying fish out of water, if they were able to verbalise their pain. “Really? You know, you could have, like, sent a pigeon first or something so I could have gotten ready, dude.”

“I’m all out of pigeons,” Goro mindlessly replies anything at all as he turns away, then realises just how stupid he sounded, and it’s motivation enough to paw at the ground and take off at the speed of light.

“Hey, wait, you’re not just gonna leave me here for my birthday?!” he hears Akira protest, but he’s already too high and simply grins about it.

“You said it yourself, today is not your birthday,” he purrs as he looks down at him. “In fact, I declare that your birthday starts tonight. I suggest you prepare yourself for the celebrations while you can.”

Taking a last moment just to commit both Futaba’s and Akira’s dumbfounded faces to memory, Goro flies off with a cackle putting all wicked witches in the country to shame.

His plan is coming along perfectly. Forget not having known about Akira’s birthday; he has an extra day now that he intends to fully take advantage of. All he needs to do is make a few stops around the country before that, steal a few things as well as kidnap some unsuspecting maidens as evil dragons like him are bound to do, and Akira will have the perfect birthday worthy of being passed down as a story for generations.

Briefly, he wonders why he goes through all the trouble for someone who might as well be his prisoner only. Akira’s smile comes to mind. How nice his hands feel massaging his scales after a hard day of rolling around in the sun. How he beams whenever Goro licks his dinner bowl extra clean of food Akira made and then swipes all the leftovers as well.

Or maybe it’s the fondness on his face when Goro watches him feed the rabbits in the garden. Even his snores when he cuddles up to Goro to leech his warmth are cute enough to commit every single one to memory. The peaceful expression on his face despite being held in the claws of a predator designed to kill humans like him.

In the end, Goro gets so prickly and warm and weird about it that he settles on his reason being that with Akira having done nothing but shower him in gifts and acts of kindness and affection so far, it would only be the noble thing to do to return the favour and make him feel just as appreciated—even if it’s just for one day.

A few startled screams, hisses, intentionally set small fires as distractions and an average of two kidnappings per village later, Goro thrones in his, well, throne room, looking down at his haul with utter glee.

Multiple bags of flour, various fruits and snacks, eggs where half got cracked in their carton already, and four women all looking at him with expressions ranging from delight to absolute fury. He was gonna nab Ryuji too, but Goro had a feeling that that would have set his plans up for immediate failure, bless his heart. He’d have someone get him later in time for the celebrations.

“No fair! Why did Haru get to take her horse and I had to fear for my life in your— your— snoot!” Ann points to his maw, pouting indignantly as if Goro doesn’t have more to be offended about here, then to the girl happily currently rummaging through the spoils of Goro’s very own war on birthdays.

“That is because Lady Haru deserves much better treatment than the common village girls,” he says as he sneers down at both Ann and Sumire, the latter only smiling broadly at him. “That, and I thought Loki would appreciate Milady’s company.”

“I think it was really cool. I always wanted to ride a dragon!” Sumire giggles, which in turn makes Makoto sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I wouldn’t call being stuck together in a dragon’s maw riding it,” she says. “That implies having some kind of power over your circumstances. As far as I know, we’ve all been more or less kidnapped for reasons I can only guess—”

“Akira’s birthday!” Sumire blurts out, making all three heads whip around to her. Haru is the first to recover from her stupor, clasping her hands together as she gets back up.

“How wonderful! So we get to be part of a surprise party? This is so exciting!” She beams at Goro in a way that makes him paw at the ground uncomfortably. He’d hardly call his plan a surprise party. If anything, he’s doing the opposite. A planned, unsurprising... fiasco, or something. No, no, he can’t think of it like that already, he’s barely out of the planning stage!

He clears his throat, which makes him exhale a few flames that have Makoto shriek and stumble back right into Ann’s arms, who is so flustered she doesn’t even notice the dangerous flames that were cause for Makoto’s concern in the first place. Goro ignores their fretting and sits up straight to address his pupil.

“I have indeed gathered all of you by varying means for only one purpose.” He nods into Sumire’s direction. “To cut to the chase, it has been brought to my attention that Akira’s birthday was two days ago and went by without a single celebration.”

A gasp goes through the peanut gallery. Even Sumire looks shocked at his declaration, as if she wasn’t the one who broke the news to him in the first place. Goro keeps himself from sighing as he realises like every other day why Akira and her get along so well. Dumb and dumber.

“I’m sure you can all see now why your presence is direly needed in my castle,” he continues. “Unfortunately, my form doesn’t allow me to do much in terms of birthday planning, hence why I had to gather people with opposable thumbs who would be familiar enough with these grounds and also not run at the first sight of me. As for the stash of groceries…” He clears his throat again. “Well, I’m planning on baking my first ever cake to repay Akira for all his food-related services towards me.”

An even louder gasp goes through the crowd that has him grit his teeth. Really? Do they not believe in his culinary abilities, or why are all four staring at him with wide eyes and pale faces?

Ann is the first to snap out. “Ahaha, baking, yeah, cool! I loooove baking. Love it so much, haha…” Her acting is terrible, but strangely compelling. Goro squints at her, leaning down to listen more. Ann laughs nervously, crossing her arms as she takes a step back. “You know what, big guy? I love baking so much, in fact, I’d love to take it from you. That way, uh, you can concentrate on the important parts, you know?”

“Seconded,” Makoto agrees, considerably more convincing given that her nervousness has been wiped from her face, only left in the way her leg bounces. “You must have a lot to prepare for, right? Why not let us women handle the kitchen?”

“Excuse me,” Goro huffs, “I’m a little more progressive than that. I’ll bake the cake.”

The desperation on their faces tells him he’s making the right decision. If he can’t even bake a single birthday cake, he’ll never impress Akira enough to leave a lasting impression. Ideally he’s aiming for Akira being so overcome with inferiority at Goro’s perfect birthday party that he’ll fall to his knees and admit Goro is better than him in everything they ever competed in. The mere thought of his upcoming desperation makes him smile peacefully.

“You.” He points a claw at Makoto. “I’m putting you in charge of fetching Ryuji and buying the town’s finest drinks to celebrate, Makoto. As for Ann..." His claw moves closer and closer to her face until he sees her gulp in nervousness. “You’ll be helping me with presents. If there is even a single one that doesn’t make him smile, I will rip your head off and have it for breakfast.”

“Wow, ever heard of ‘please’?” he hears Ann sigh, but he’s already busy glaring down Sumire. She, for her part, doesn’t even flinch, even giving him a little wave, making him look like the stupid one.

“Sumire, you will..." He sighs, claw lowering, foot falling back onto the ground. “Just do your thing, I don’t care. Lady Haru will be in charge of thinking up a cake for me to bake.”

“Hey, I wanted the cake task!” Ann protests.

“And I want a cool job too,” Sumire pouts.

“I wanna go home,” Makoto sighs.

“I want fish and butter potatoes for dinner!” Haru exclaims joyfully.

Goro growls in frustration, realising that too many cooks may indeed spoil the soup, but already having gotten himself into this situation. It’s too late to back out. He has to handle this like a professional.

“I changed my mind. Sumire will do decorations,” he declares.

“Yay!” she exclaims with a fistbump, not yet realising there isn’t really anything around the castle to decorate with. Goro half-expects to come back later to the roses in his garden ripped out and used as ceiling decorations or something.

“As for you others,” Goro addresses the rest, eyes narrowing in a glare. “You go and do your tasks. I expect results at the latest in an hour. Now if you excuse me, I need to take care of the one task of utmost importance..."

“Really?” Ann pouts. “What could it be, napping? Chilling? Sunbathing?”

“Exactly,” Goro says a little flippantly without listening much, then stomps out into the hallway, down to the courtyard.

“Until later, Akechi!” he hears Haru exclaim joyfully and chuckles to himself as he hears protest break out from the others.

He doesn’t care. As messy as they can be, he knows they’re reliable when he needs them, and right now may be the one time where he can’t afford to deliver anything less than perfect. Merely thinking about how Akira always takes himself back makes him scowl to himself. Not even telling Goro about his birthday, how could he!

Being so bothered is quite exhausting for him, which is why he decides to indeed fulfil expectations of him and lie down in the sun for a little bit first, rolling onto his back so his belly gets warmed, stretching himself with a pleased little mewl. Recharging his energy and all that. It’s hard being so large and in charge of an entire castle, after all. This simply ensures he’ll be in top condition for his big task. Besides, he trusts the girls to work their magic well enough without him, enough that he can take a little nap.

The sun is low in the sky already when Goro scrambles into the dining hall, peaceful sleep disturbed as soon as he realised he’s almost out of time for his grand preparation. He rushes through the dining hall, poking his head through the small opening of their makeshift kitchen. “Lady Haru, are you in here?” he asks in a panic. “It appears I got held up by just the most important tasks—”

He can’t continue talking because the next moment, a ladle gets shoved into his mouth by a brightly grinning Haru, decked out in an apron and holding a large bowl to her chest. “My taste tester has finally arrived!” she chirps, pushing the ladle further between his teeth. “Eat up.”

Staring at her in confusion, Goro acts on autopilot as he licks the ladle clean. The taste of sugar and berries bursts on his tongue and he moans appreciatively. Red berry compote. Delicious.

“More,” he growls as Haru wrestles the ladle from his greedy tongue trying to lick it squeaky clean. She laughs.

“Patience. I made enough for both the cake and a big bowl for everyone as well.”

Right. Cake. He almost forgot in his gluttony.

Goro paws at the ground in embarrassment, watches her hurry to clean the ladle off and put it back into a big, sweet-smelling pot on the stove to stir what’s inside. “I see you were busy in my absence,” he remarks. “I recall only asking you to come up with recipes for me to make, though.”

Haru smiles at him in amusement. “Well, yes, but when I went out into the gardens to pick berries, I saw that you were already so busy, I thought it would be better for your planning to start already.”

He feels the scales in his face turn warm at being caught and turns his head away with a little grumble, catching sight of the kitchen table as he does so. Multiple plates with round slices of fluffy and moist-looking cake are resting on top, likely waiting to be layered. Goro doesn’t know if he feels more embarrassed or hungry.

“Don’t suppose I will thank you for going against my orders,” he mumbles, eyes fixated on the yummy-looking layers before ripping himself away. “In fact, I demand you let me handle things from now on.”

Haru looks rather amused. “Of course. I was thinking you could beat the cream and decorate the cake, maybe even draw something cute on it—”

“Yes,” he immediately exclaims, looking around the kitchen frantically. “Where is the cream? I will beat it until it begs for mercy.”

She laughs. “Maybe not that much, Akechi? Think of Akira. He would probably like to come home to a clean kitchen.”

He grumbles, but accepts that she has a point. “Alright. But I won’t give any less than my best. Let’s start.”

In the end, the cake-making still led to a few casualties, namely two whisks, one chair, and two bowls of red berry compote Haru had to feed him to keep him appeased when his first tries at decorating the cake failed.

He finds himself wandering the halls after, looking around in fascination. Garlands made of vines and flowers decorate every hallway and room he can access. The floors are clean of the dirt he usually brings inside, carpets he knows he shoved into any available closet rolled out, the plush hugging his claws so nicely he has to rip himself away from thoughts of napping right there and then in the hallway. Even the curtains have been draped in a way that lets more light in and fits the new decorations.

Goro is just about to locate Sumire and tell her about how she exceeded all his expectations with this, which were admittedly not many, when he hears a suspicious noise. The smallest thumps against the plush carpet. Something being pulled. Noises of fabric ripping.

He turns his head around, sees the curtains swinging suspiciously, and immediately sees red.

“You little—!”

With a growl, he lunges to get Morgana, but the cat is unfortunately quicker than he ever could be with his chunky dragon body, shrieking at him with a mrah! and jumping higher. The cat hooks his claws into the fabric to hold on, tearing more holes into it without a care as he climbs up, and Goro sees no other way than lunging forward again and chomping the curtain exactly where the cat is hanging from.

He ends up with a maw full of fabric and a face full of shame as Morgana simply lands on his snout and trots up his head without a care in the world. Goro feels every scale of his body vibrate with anger and he roars as he lets himself fall back on his wings, swiping at his own head and then body with his claws to catch the furry nuisance before it can cause even more harm. Something behind him topples over, but he doesn’t care. Not when there’s a villain on the loose that was supposed to be with Futaba today.

It continues like that for a few long moments of the most furious game of cat and, well, dragon. Goro is hot on his trails as the meowing menace expertly dodges his swipes and bites and manages to knock over more and more things as he does so. Flower decorations, furniture, vases, it all comes down on Goro’s body, and he thinks he even feels a rose garland tangle with his horns, probably making him look utterly ridiculous. He tries to utilise his shame as motivation. The sooner he can catch this demonic cat, the more time he has to get himself back in order.

Only when he chases Morgana into a corner devoid of any curtains or garlands or furniture does he finally catch him. Morgana shrieks in terror as Goro’s claws close around him and press him down, then turns silent immediately as Goro picks him up by the scruff with his teeth.

“I let you raid my pantry on the regular and this is how you repay me?” he growls with the cat dangling from his maw, dropping him when he’s sure he’s learnt his lesson. Morgana only curls up and stares at him with huge blue eyes, his weapon of choice unfortunately being extremely effective, and Goro sighs as he realises it’s hard to come up with a party-related punishment for a creature that is tiny and has paws for hands.

Before he can even try to condemn Morgana to a lifetime of dishwashing services by tongue, the door at the end of the hallway is pushed open.

“Goro! Are you okay?”

Sumire runs to his side at the speed of light, stumbling over a knocked down drawer as she does so, and Goro can only stare at her with the slowly-dawning realisation that he probably made a mess in the castle that’s even worse than just knocking down all the decorations she’s probably worked hard to put up.

And still she cradles his head, inspects his snout for any damages, then exhales in relief as she leans down and scratches Morgana’s head. “You guys didn’t get hurt, did you? What happened?”

Goro makes an embarrassed noise and curls his tail around himself, covering his snout with it. “It... appears we got distracted.” He falls silent, looking at Sumire’s serene face as she alternates between petting Goro’s body and the furry traitor rubbing up against her legs as if nothing happened. “Are you not mad, though?”

“Oh, I am.” Sumire gives him a sharp little smile that only makes Goro bury himself deeper in his tail. “But... I’m happier you’re okay. Hearing all those loud noises, I assumed the worst! You’re so clumsy inside the castle, after all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Goro huffs out angry black smoke. “I’ll have you know it’s not easy to manoeuvre a castle not built with your size in mind!”

“Aww, don’t worry! I think dragons are cuter when they’re a little chubby.” She pats his body affirmatively right where the part of his belly is that has gotten a little plumper since Akira’s arrival, even if Goro keeps convincing himself it’s merely his primordial pouch, and he’s quite self-conscious about it, thank you very much.

He scoots away from her touch, his scales probably about to turn deep red any moment. “Do you have any more concerns about my body?” he huffs. “The next one will cost you a limb.”

“No, that’s all!” she replies cheerfully, getting up after petting Morgana a last time. “Okay, it’s time for some afternoon sport! Get those dragon limbs moving, Goro, we’re gonna clean up your mess together now!”

He sighs, resigning himself to his fate of exercise in return for destroying half the ground floor. It’s better than having her be mad at him. Better than Akira returning home to a birthday surprise of cleanup chores for days.

The sun is already setting when they’re done returning the hallways and common rooms to a semi-presentable, but decorated state, and fearing Akira coming home any moment with Futaba and Ryuji in tow, Goro stomps through the castle and inspects every room he can until he locates the person who might have the most important task of them all.

“Ann, there you are,” he says as he pokes his head through the open balcony door of a tower from where he’s standing on the castle walls. Ann jolts and squeals as if she was caught doing something illegal, which is precisely why Goro narrows his eyes and inspects the room she’s rummaging through more closely. A little dusty, but the sewing equipment everywhere, the various dresses left behind, the large mirror she insisted on carrying up here—it’s unmistakable. “Your old room?”

“Geez, ever heard of knocking?” she complains, putting a little jewellery box she was holding on the bed to turn and face him. Goro eyes the thing for a second, taking note of its familiarity, but unable to place it.

“Have you located sufficient gifts for Akira already, or do I have to raid the nearby village?” he asks the important questions instead.

Ann grins from one ear to the other. “No need to. Coming right up, your highness!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Too bad. Don’t command me around like a snobby prince then.”

Goro grits his teeth. “The circumstances simply called for a more... forward approach this time. I apologise if I didn’t take you into consideration as well.”

“Don’t worry, I get it, big guy.” She smiles at him, bringing over a tray with various bottles and soaps on it she almost drops, catching herself just in time. Goro eyes her with disdain. Whatever gifts she arranged here, she should not have gone for fragile ones. Wait, speaking of which...

“Where did you even get those?” He points at the bottles with a claw.

“Oh, the nearest village, played my connections a little.” She grins. “Before you ask, I didn’t pay for it myself. Luckily I remembered where you keep all your emergency money!”

“You did what—!”

“Anyway! So this one’s massage oil that makes you smell reaaally good. This here is shampoo, this one’s a hair mask—the good stuff that’s flower-scented!—and this one is for your skin…” She picks up each bottle individually as she explains. “This is some really high-quality soap, and this one is supposed to be really good for curl care. He’ll look gorgeous using it!”

“God knows he needs it,” Goro mumbles, a little bit soothed now that his money at least went to the right things. Massage oil... He could massage Akira just like he always massages his scales where Goro gets tense... Maybe even with his tongue just so he can clean him as well while he’s at it... Yes. He approves of this.

“Is that all?” He raises an eyebrow at Ann. “I suppose that is an alright use of my riches if they go towards Akira’s hygiene. He has been using the same soap for hair, face, body, everything, and as good as it makes him smell,” he sees Ann give him a knowing look and quickly glances away, clearing his throat, “well, I suppose a more luxurious routine would suit the prisoner of a dragon much more.”

“Sure.” Ann smirks at him. “Just so you know, I picked the same scents he’s already using for the massage and hair oil. Lemon blossom and honey milk. Aw, are you blushing?”

“I don’t see any reason why I would, other than there being quite a breeze out here,” he mumbles, glaring at her.

She giggles. “Oh, you know what I mean! So when are you gonna tell him?”

He feels his scowl deepen despite how he feels more and more heat coming from his face. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but even if I did, we have much more important things to discuss right now. What else did you get?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing you.” She luckily waves it off, then fetches a few clothes from the bed, presenting them one by one to Goro. “So I got some fancy shirts since I know he likes to dress up, a few pairs of pants since I’ve seen some of his have holes in them already, and even a few sash belts! He’s been getting into these lately.” She proudly holds up a long red satin cloth embellished with silver embroidery. Goro has to admit it would... look good on him. Very good. It means he profits off this as well, which in turn means that this gift is also receiving the dragon seal of approval.

He nods appreciatively. “I suppose it won’t hurt him to make himself a little more presentable for working around the castle. These are some excellent picks. You truly know your craft.”

Ann lets the clothes drop on the bed, then lets herself fall onto it next, grinning. “Aw, thanks! Soooo…” She reaches out with a finger and points to the gift piles beside her. “Are we just all gonna give this to him, or do you want this to come from you specifically?”

Oh. He didn’t actually think about this. It’s clear these gifts have Ann written all over them and he is not intending to take credit for someone else’s hard work, but... A personalised gift past this celebration? Akira would cherish something like that much more than any clothes or expensive fragrances. The question is just what it could be.

“Seeing how much thought you put into this, you clearly deserve credit here, even if thievery of money was involved,” Goro starts, watching how it makes Ann smile. “However... I admit, the idea of a personalised gift is tempting. I don’t suppose you have any ideas to share?” He eyes the jewellery box again, suspecting it’s the final thing Ann hasn’t presented yet.

True to his thoughts, Ann sits up properly on the bed and grabs the box, holding it out to Goro. “Do you remember this?” she asks.

He squints at it more. “I can’t say I do.”

“It’s the box I got when you asked me to hide something very special.”

All at once it comes back to him, his eyes going wide, scrambling to sit up properly and almost hitting his head on the doorframe. “Could it be? I forgot about it.”

“Not surprising. I hid it well in my room. Nobody ever searches inside a mattress, you know? Least of all in a lady’s room.” She looks much too proud of her logic, even if it unfortunately makes little sense.

Goro shakes his head. “I asked you to hide it in case of raiders and thieves, and to my knowledge, neither have ever even attempted to make it into my castle. Do not decorate yourself with laurels just yet.”

Ann shrugs. “You forgot Akira. I saw enough signs that he was snooping in here.”

“Of course.” Goro huffs. “I’m not even surprised. So you’re suggesting I should be foolish enough to not just open Pandora’s box, but give up its contents to Akira as well?” A terrible idea. His chest is already clenching together thinking of what’s inside, what he hasn’t looked at in years, but could never afford to lose.

“It’s your decision. I just thought if there’s anything special you could give to him, this would be it.” She tilts her head at him, her smile softening. “Maybe it could help you two get closer, who knows?”

“I don’t usually make it a habit to get closer to my prisoners,” Goro shoots out at the speed of lightning, his nervousness louder than his upset.

“And yet here we are.” Ann holds out the box to him. “Take it, okay? You don’t have to give it to him, but I think you’re ready to have it back at least, claws and scales be damned.”

Reluctantly, he reaches out with a scaly foot, closing his claws around the box gently, as if afraid he could crush the wood with his strength. He swallows hard and with it the protest on the tip of his tongue. “Thank you, Ann. I’ll think about it.”

She gets up from the bed, humming as she grabs a few scraps of cloth lying around the room. Meanwhile, Goro examines the box closer, pulling his head out of the doorframe to bring it close to his face.

There’s beautiful shapes carved into the wood that’s sturdier than he originally thought. Shaking it gently, there’s a dull thump inside it, a clank muffled by fabric. The noise is strangely soothing to Goro. Does he really want Akira to have this? Does he want to bring up this subject just yet? He supposes it won’t be much longer until he finds out if he’s ready to go this step with him.

“If you’re done putting it away, you can meet me in the old ballroom and we’ll wrap presents together?”

Goro looks up to see Ann presenting cloths and yarn to him, even some beautiful-looking ribbon band that probably didn’t come cheap. She clearly put thought into this, and as much as Goro quips and teases and banters with them all, he knows they get him like no one else does. That they’re his friends. Ann is aware of what this means to him and is confident enough that this is the right thing to do. Maybe he should start trusting her and the others more than the little voice inside his head that keeps urging him to let things stay as they are, to not accept change, because change is frightening in its unpredictability.

He supposes that after all they went through, he owes Akira some vulnerability of his own, though.

Tucking the box safely under his wing, he pokes his head back into Ann’s old room. “Seeing as you have more to bring to the ballroom than a feeble little human like you can carry, I’ll allow you just this once to stack the clothes on me.”

She laughs. “Sure. We can even dress you up, what do you say?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw. It was worth a try, I guess.”

He brushes his teeth in preparation, licks his body extra clean, eats a few snacks so he won’t devour the entire cake at once, then brushes his teeth again because he messed up the order in which he should do all these things. The sun is already disappearing behind the mountains and he knows there’s not much time left. As he steals a little of the massage oil to rub on his scales and horns just so they’re extra shiny, he thinks about any last-minute preparations he could do. Would it be weird to rip out the flowers in the garden and give him a rose bouquet? Absolutely, especially with everyone present. What about giving Akira that tongue bath he’s been thinking of? He can already hear Ryuji screeching to get a room or some other vulgar exclamation—also denied. Maybe he should just grab Akira and soar off to somewhere beautiful with him to watch the sunset? But then he’d miss the cake. One moral dilemma after another—it’s exhausting. Maybe he should just take a nap about it.

He’s grumbling to himself as he makes his way to the ballroom where they’re holding their party. Just as he’s about to leave the hallway, his sensitive ears catch a noise sounding like something opening, and his head whips around just in time to see Akira jump through the window into the hallway, landing effortlessly and cat-like on his feet. All of Goro’s scales heat up at seeing him again after a day without him.

“Heard it was my birthday?” Akira grins, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the open window.

“Close that. I’m getting cold,” Goro grumbles as he stomps into his direction. When he arrives in front of Akira, though, instinct takes over and he reaches down to rub his head against his body in a greeting he only rarely performs. I missed you.

Akira laughs, winding his arms around his head and leaning forward against him. Goro shivers as he feels his warmth, or maybe it’s just the draft. “Missed you too, Goro,” Akira whispers, voice soft and intimate, and Goro makes a strained noise as he headbutts him gently again. This man will be the death of him with his stupidly nice voice and good smell and even better hugs.

His teeth clamp around him before he knows. Look, he’s overwhelmed, okay?

“H-Hey, no need to get feisty!” Akira laughs nervously, but Goro is only grumbling as he lifts him up, carrying him leisurely in his maw through the hallway towards the ballroom. He hears Akira sigh, probably slowly accepting his fate of being hauled around like a sack of potatoes today. “You know I can walk? Actually, forget it. Is this part of my surprise? Futaba’s still waiting outside too...”

There is no surprise, Goro almost grumbles just because he’s so used to being a contrarian, then decides to keep quiet about it instead and continue stomping through the castle. If he nibbles on Akira just a little, that’s his business alone. It’s not like he’s not used to it, even if the startled squeal escaping him together with a shudder is making his harmless nibbling a little... awkward.

Thankfully they arrive at the doors to the ballroom soon enough and Goro decides to be nice and lets Akira down gently instead of spitting him out as he’s used to. Akira thanks him only with a sigh. “Had fun?”

“Plenty,” Goro sneers, opening the doors and pushing Akira through.

What follows can be summarised as lots of greetings, hugs, birthday wishes and even an impromptu birthday serenade with Ryuji on the lute and Ann and Futaba providing vocals. Goro only pulls his nose up at it, but Akira is so delighted he almost cries, eyes glossy with tears he blinks away rapidly before anyone but Goro can see.

That seems to be a pattern throughout the entirety of the party. Haru brings out the bowls of red berry compote and their masterpiece of a cake, and Akira laughs and wipes his eyes as he sees the crude shape of a stick figure Goro drew on it.

“Since you thought it would be so funny to draw little dragons on the cookies you baked the other day, I figured you would not mind me returning the sentiment,” Goro sneers as he holds the knife between his teeth to cut the cake right where the poor stick figure’s neck is.

Akira looks less intimidated than he aimed for, but that’s okay. The soft smile on his face, the way he says, “I love it, thank you,” it might be even better than seeing him scared. Besides—his other guests look plenty intimidated, at least, even if he spots Makoto roll his eyes at the cake.

The lute is pretty popular and soon enough Ryuji gets bribed with various treats to provide music, sighing as he pretends it’s enough hassle to justify getting some of the cinnamon cookies Akira has been hoarding in the pantry. Goro watches with hawk eyes as Sumire pulls Akira into the middle of the ballroom and ropes him into a dance—one of the ones he’s seen people perform drunkenly in taverns. Jumping and stepping and raising your skirt and twirling. It’s almost vulgar to his eyes that have become used to only seeing waltzes in halls like these, and yet there’s something beautiful about the way Akira laughs and jumps around. He raises Sumire’s hand high, twirls her, then she does the same to him, spinning and catching him again. It looks fun.

Goro feels a pang of hurt, realising he’ll never be able to do this with Akira. It shouldn’t bother him so much—there’s much more important things he could be missing as a dragon. Like the ability to fit through small doors. Or putting on shoes. Or lying on a sofa without it immediately breaking into a hundred pieces. Somehow, none of these things evoke the same sense of missing out as watching the dance does. He sees Ann pull Makoto on the dancefloor as well, then Haru and Futaba join them, and suddenly he feels alone as well on top of it all.

He’s only realising he’s pouting into his tail when there’s a tap to his snout. Looking up from his cocoon of misery, his eyes fall on Akira who’s smiling down at him, hand extended. “Care for a dance, my fair lady?”

Goro scoffs. “Do I look like I am capable of that?”

“Yeah, you do. Now stop sulking and get up. I wanna dance with you for my birthday.”

He doesn’t really have an idea of how this is supposed to work, but unfortunately phrasing it as a birthday wish has exactly the intended effect of getting him back up on his legs, grumbling as he stomps into the middle of the dancefloor with Akira in tow. Goro tries sitting up on his hind legs, almost hitting his head on the chandelier as well as making various girls squeak in fear from trying to get out of his way. Akira is smiling, though, and that’s all that matters, even when the lute music gets a little wobbly from fear as well.

“Don’t disappoint me, Akira,” Goro smirks down at the human.

“I never lose a competition, Goro,” he matches him effortlessly, reaching out to wrap his hand around his claw.

And that’s how they dance for a while. Oddly satisfying swaying and heavy stomps from side to side. Akira lets himself be spun easily, which becomes a little addicting to Goro, so much that even he lets himself be spun once by Akira. It ends in a mighty crash, a flattened Sumire and a few broken chairs, but never to be discouraged, Sumire figures the solution to avoid being crushed a second time is simply dancing with Goro instead and damning Akira to swinging Morgana around the room instead as the only one without a human partner.

Dare he say, he might even be having fun. Even when Ryuji grows tired of playing music and they all curl up together eating red berry compote with Goro in the middle, sitting on his tail and leaning back, it’s fun. Akira waits until the majority of everyone else is distracted with bickering over the last snacks left, then crawls up his thigh, leaning in with eyes sparkling as if to tell him a secret. “Thank you for the best birthday party I ever had,” he whispers, and Goro keeps himself from doing anything stupid at that. Like licking his face. Or curling his tail around him and squeezing him really good.

“You didn’t even get your presents yet,” he says instead to distract himself, and that gets Akira’s attention enough to make him jump into action again as Goro instructs him where to search for the gifts in the ballroom.

He loves the shirts. He loves the soaps. He loves the oils. As far as Goro is concerned, Ann’s gifts are a huge success, evident by how Akira is parading the red sash around already, his slight tipsiness from the drinks only leading to more laughter and boasting. Tucked under Goro’s wing is a small wooden box that burns a hole into his scales, but Akira is having fun and the others are too and then Ryuji grabs the lute again and they get into a circle to dance polka this time, including Goro without even asking. It’s not time yet.

It’s later when everyone has settled into their guest rooms, or in Akira’s and his case, hay beds for the night, that he allows the little box to slip out from under his wing. Akira cracks open an eye as he lies between Goro’s body and the warmth of the hearth, watching Goro place the box in front of him on the hay.

He smiles up at him lazily. “What’s this?”

“Your present.”

Akira takes the box in hand, rotating it and inspecting it from all angles appreciatively. “It’s beautiful.”

“The box doesn’t matter.” Goro’s claw taps on the stone ground beside their bed nervously. “Open it up already.”

“And here I thought my present was being allowed into your bed for once,” Akira jokes, unhooking the clasp and lifting the lid of the box. Goro’s eyes are glued to it.

He sees the sparkle of diamonds in the light of the fire, the gleaming silver of a thin necklace with a matching gem hanging from it so achingly familiar to him like nothing else. Instead of the cold fear he expected, the only thing spreading through his body... is warmth, though.

It’s a strange kind of comfort he’s been missing for a while, security that he’s not alone no matter how much the world and him may change. Suddenly he wonders why he was ever afraid of seeing these things again. It almost makes him want to laugh—it was that easy after all, wasn’t it? Maybe in the end it really was just him being afraid of moving forward.

He almost doesn’t notice how much Akira’s hands shake as he reaches inside to take the earrings and necklace out.

“Goro,” he breathes in awe. “Are these yours?”

“They belonged to my mother.”

Silence falls over them, only interrupted by the crackle of the fire. Akira looks frozen in shock and Goro hopes he’s not coming across as weird. Regardless of that, he’s made his choice, so he will commit to it.

Leaning forward, he headbutts Akira’s shoulder affectionately. “They are the only thing that I still have of her. I decided I want you to have them.”

Akira’s head turns around to him, uncertainty written across his features. He sees the questions in his eyes. About his family, his background, who his mother was given that she wore human jewellery. He’s prepared to shoot them all down, not ready for the revelations answers would bring yet, but to his surprise, Akira turns away again just as his expression morphs into a soft smile.

“I don’t understand why you chose me of all people, but... I’ll keep them safe, I promise. Or do you want me to wear them?”

An image of Akira wearing his mother’s jewellery invades his mind. It makes him swallow hard with emotions he can’t explain. “Do whatever you want,” he says instead of confessing just how much he’d love that. “They are yours now, after all.”

“Alright. I’ll wear them in her honour, then.”

Akira closes the box and gets up quickly just to put it safely onto the table, far away from any fire and any large dragons that roll around at night. Goro almost wants to whine when his warmth disappears, but then Akira returns and snuggles back against him and everything is alright in the world again.

He puts an arm over him to hold him close, hold him safe. “Just so you know, given that I provide for you and even let you leech my warmth when you require it, I expect the same effort tenfold when my own birthday comes around,” Goro mumbles into the hay, pretending he can handle the thought of being given even a fraction of the attention and love Akira received today.

“Of course.” Akira chuckles quietly. “I’ll cook you your favourite meal when the time comes. Maybe I’ll even bite you and carry you around in my mouth a little as well.”

“I’d like to see that,” Goro scoffs.

“Never underestimate me.” Akira’s grin is audible, the challenge in his voice as present as ever, no matter how comfortable and tired they are. It makes Goro terribly emotional.

With sleepy eyes, he looks at the back of Akira’s head, watches the rise and fall of his chest, and decides that this sight alone is worth sharing his bed and home with him, or maybe even his entire life. Goro doesn’t like to get attached, but he’s also intelligent enough to realise when he doesn’t have a choice anymore, and from the moment Akira fell down that cliff right into his mouth, he was powerless to resist him.

“I wouldn’t even dream of underestimating you,” he hums, getting properly comfortable again, resting his head on the hay. “Anyway, you had a long day and should sleep now as long as the fire is going.”

There’s a comfortable little hum coming from the human in his arms, snuggling against him yet again as if they could get any closer. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Goodnight, Goro.” He pauses. “Thanks again. For... everything.”

He’s glad Akira can’t see the soft look in his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to explain it.

“Goodnight, Akira. Sleep well.”

And if he waits until Akira is asleep to press a little kiss to his cheek as a final birthday gift, that’s his business alone.