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Eyes like glass, slit down the middle. Scales curling around the edges of his face, framing it like a racing hood. Claws the color of silver stars that faded lightly at the ends. He was still in there. He was still Milo. He looked mostly the same—a little too gaunt, a little too tired and manic, hell, even the dark circles had stayed. But there was something undeniably new about the shape and shadow of this face and how it made his features even sharper.

As he tilted his head and flexed his hands, it didn’t fade, the unnatural feel of his claws evidence that this was not some weird dream.

He was a motherfucking dragon.

“You are,” Rowan said, making Milo aware that he had been talking out loud.

He spun around with wide eyes. “When did I…” And promptly got distracted by just how gorgeously wrecked Rowan looked.

His hair was a mess of tangles, his chest red and covered in Milo’s come. He had a matching stain wetting the front of his pajama pants, outlining his spent dick.

Milo was getting ideas again.

Seeing his perusal, Rowan crossed his arms and covered his chest with his hands, looking suddenly shy.

Milo really hadn’t expected someone who looked like Rowan to be so prudish and soft. Milo’s heart thumped dangerously, but he also knew it was only right to check in.

“About…all that,” Milo said. “Was that okay?”

Rowan had seemed into it. Milo had made sure to check. In fact, just how into it Rowan appeared had sent Milo a little feral. Which was probably why he hadn’t noticed the shift.

“Yes,” Rowan said, high-pitched and fast. “I’ve just never done anything like…” He seemed to mentally switch tracks as the embarrassment overwhelmed him. It was adorable and Milo had to bite back a smug smile. “I should find my shirt.”

Milo glanced around and spotted it hanging from the ceiling fan. He pointed up. “Ummm…”

Rowan rushed over, grabbed it, and held it to his chest. “Let me go and get cleaned up and we can talk about your dragon.”

He hurried away like Milo was going to chase him and his chest into the bathroom.

And, well…

That wasn’t off the table of his intrusive thoughts. But Rowan’s chest was a full-course meal, and Milo had been starving for months!

It was hard to find a guy Milo was attracted to who also would be into, or even willing to try, what Milo liked. The big, strong ones usually came with a few masculinity hangups. They wanted to bend Milo like a pretzel or have him lie there and “let them make him feel good” while they flexed their virality and prowess. And hey, he wasn’t knocking the pillow princess lifestyle. That sounded rad if you liked that sort of thing. But Milo had never been good at keeping still or letting someone else drive the bus.

Yes, he liked being railed into next week by a guy. And yes, he wanted to titty fuck the same guy and make him go crazy.

Was that so much to ask for?

He stared at the bathroom door and the hidden wonder on the other side.

Maybe not.

But weren’t they supposed to hate each other? Or, like…maybe they’d settled into some kind of mutual benefit situation. Those didn’t usually include orgasms though, right? Those were the other kind of benefits. The ones with friends. Were they friends?

He hummed in thought as he cleaned himself up at the kitchen sink and fixed his clothes. As he was finishing, the bathroom door opened and Rowan stepped back out, hair detangled and a new set of pajamas on. He cleared his throat, though he still had some trouble looking Milo in the eye.

“We should look for your breed of dragon now we can see it more clearly.”

Milo nodded enthusiastically. “I won’t even complain about the books. I wonder what badass name I’ll have.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, his body language easing as they settled into their usual back-and-forth. “Probably something like the blue and white annoyance.”

He headed for his bookshelf after that juvenile insult, and Milo rolled his eyes back as he followed. “Ooh burn.”

Rowan gave him a haughty glare.

“What does it say about your breed, then?” He picked up a book, opened it to an unknown page, and pretended to read. “The Great Red Douchedragon. Prone to sulking and tantrums.”