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“You’re too comfortable.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing.”
“It is when I have to worry about those horns hitting me.”
At this point, it was reflex for Wanderer to tilt his head back as Durin turns his head to look at him. And as if he were oblivious to the fact he almost cut his jaw, Durin rests his chin on Wanderer’s chest.
Looking into those sunset eyes, Wanderer can’t help but sigh. He hates how it was also a reflex scratch by one of Durin’s horns.
“If you’re going to lay on me like this, at least move down a bit more.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I can hear your Heart more clearly from here.” Durin says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. That of course that’s why he would be laying on him like this this whole time. That could be the only answer.
Too bad it was an irritating answer that makes Wanderer roll his eyes.
“We’ve been over this. I have no heartbeat.”
“The humming is your heartbeat.”
“I told you a Core doesn’t count.”
“Well, I still think it does. We’ve been over that, too.”
It’s a debate that comes and goes, and never has a true conclusion. It’s happened enough times now that Wanderer gets the feeling they both just bring it up out of habit. It’s not like they can change each others mind on it after all.
Durin turns his head, probably lay his ear to his chest again to listen to his nonexistent heartbeat. He’s more careful about the movement this time, the tips of his horns nowhere close to scrapping against him.
But it’s probably another habit that has Wanderer grumbling, “Hey, watch those things.”
His hand moves from the base of a horn to tangle in Durin’s bangs. He pushes back slightly, like he’s trying to get Durin to move. But there’s no real strength behind it, so Durin doesn’t budge.
They lay there in silence, Wanderer staring up at the ceiling from beneath this ridiculous dragon. He pretends he isn’t aware of the tail that slightly wraps around his leg, just as he pretends he isn’t aware of the subtle purrs from Durin. The sound and vibrations was more relaxing than Wanderer cared to admit, and it helped keep his mind blank. It’s not easy to turn his thoughts off, and it’s not a feeling he was exactly comfortable with either. But Durin makes it easy to shut it all out, and maybe that’s why Wanderer can allow himself to be tangled up in him like this.
His mind is turned off enough that he’s able to forget to keep track of time that passes. Wanderer doesn’t even pay much attention to the light changing that comes through the window. It’s only when he does start trying to figure out how long it’s been that Durin speaks up.
And as always, it’s something Wanderer is never prepared for.
“…I think I was born to love you.”
Wanderer blinks. He’s not sure how to respond to that, or if he should ignore it. He does hate the way it makes his chest ache despite not having anything real there to hurt.
In the end, he says, “No one’s born just to love a single person. Not even a storybook dragon.”
“Well, there’s a lot of people I love and care for. That hasn’t changed.” Durin finally shifts from where he’s been laying on Wanderer for hours now. Had he truly been human, Wanderer knows his body would ache from keeping such a position for so long. Instead, the weight had been grounding. “But you…I think my Mother hoped I’d meet someone like you.”
Durin’s gaze is intense as he looks down at him, telling Wanderer he’s been thinking this over for awhile now. Wanderer wonders exactly how long. He seems like the type to stay up thinking about this kind of thing night after night.
“Why, because I’m the ‘Hero’ of your story? That theory falls a little flat considering I wasn’t supposed to exist. Still not really.”
“I wasn’t either.” Durin counters. “But my Mother wanted me to. And because of that, I got to meet you and fall for you.”
Durin fits easily between his legs, and Wanderer doesn’t try to stop the way his legs settle by Durin’s hips either. His tail is no longer wrapped around him, but Wanderer can see it slowly moving back and forth behind him.
As he looms over Wanderer, Durin holds down his arms by his wrists. Another thing that happens too easily. Wanderer’s fingers twitch as his brow furrows, realizing he let Durin pin him down without even a thought of resisting. Then ever so carefully, Durin moves his hands to press his palms against Wanderer’s before locking their fingers together. It’s almost instinct when Wanderer holds his hands in return.
Maybe that’s why it didn’t occur to him to resist. Everything was too easy when it came to Durin being around him. There’s a comfort there even when parts of him still want to be wary. He tries to keep some kind of distance, but it doesn’t matter what he keeps from Durin when he can still physically get close to him.
Looking up into those sunset eyes always leaves Wanderer feeling a contradiction of wanting to confide more in his friend, but also protect him from his secrets and darker thoughts. Being close to Durin physically was one thing. Emotionally...
It’s too easy being close to Durin. In more ways than one. That’s what made it so unsettling at times. It’s what makes Wanderer want to keep him around.
“Sometimes it feels like your head is still in storybooks.” Wanderer comments. Durin hums thoughtfully in return.
“I wonder if there’s a storybook like us. A Dragon and the Hero who saved and freed him.”
“Doubt it. Dragons are usually slain, and Hero’s have more morals than I do.” Wanderer smirks slightly when his response makes Durin pout. He tugs a hand free and presses it to the gem in Durin’s chest. Glowing as bright as ever. After a moment, he says, “Our story together is our own, so there’s no point in searching for something like it elsewhere. There’s no telling how it’ll keep going and how it’ll end. Only way there’ll be a storybook like it is if we write it ourselves.”
Not for the first time, Wanderer wonders how tangled up their fates have become. Durin managed to fight back against fate and create his own with the help of those around him and a Mother that adored him. Wanderer can’t help but worry it’ll all go to waste the more intertwined their strings become.
Lost in his thoughts and concerns, Wanderer doesn’t notice right away how Durin’s eyes widen at his words. It’s only when he becomes aware of how still the dragons become that Wanderer looks back up to see his stunned expression.
“What?”
“You said together…” Durin’s tone was almost one of awe. Wanderer raises a brow at it.
“Yeah, so? Got a problem with that?”
He thinks for a second that Durin will kiss him. He usually does when he gets overwhelmed like this, and it’s a habit Wanderer doesn’t really want to break. But instead of a kiss, when Durin leans down, he simply presses their foreheads together. Softly, he says the name Wanderer had confided in him. And then just as quietly,asks, “Hey…what kind of story do you think ours will be?”
“A tragedy.” Wanderer tangles his fingers into Durin’s hair, their lips brushing as he speaks they’re so close together. The hand that is still pinned down holds tighter onto Durin, making sure he doesn’t let go.
“We just have to make it worth being one.”