Sanguine (Kreuzberg Dragonshifters Book 2)

Sanguine Part 4

  "Are you all right?" Richard asked, when Paul returned to the table.

"Yeah, I suppose," Paul said, still feeling a little distracted by what had happened in the rest room.

"What's up?" Richard asked, with a worried frown, as he reached out to take Paul's hand, swinging it a little before he rubbed his thumb across Paul's knuckles.

Paul caught Richard's concerned, questioning look and attempted a smile for his lover's benefit, before he tried to shrug his discomfort away. He knew that he should have known better than to try and fool his lover; Richard would have seen his discomfort in waves of lime-green behind his eyes. He shrugged again, in an attempt to try and shift away some of his discomfort; it mostly worked, yet still some odd, negative feeling remained within him.

"Just had a weird run-in in the rest room. Some guy was giving me a funny look, is all. It's probably nothing," Paul said, trying to grin it off. "He probably was just eyeing me up, or something. Needless to say, I got out of there pretty quickly."

"But - " Richard said, slowly, astutely picking up on the fact that there was something else that Paul wasn't immediately telling him.

"He had weird eyes," Paul finally admitted, with a snort.

"Weird how, exactly?" Richard asked, his own translucent eyes narrowed at Paul.

"I don't know how to explain it. They weren't normal human eyes, yet they weren't anything like dragon eyes, either; they just looked ... filled with fire, is all I can think to say about them. I didn't get a chance to scent him, but I doubt I would have known what he was from smell alone, anyway. If he was another type of shifter, I mean. I've only ever had experience with dragons, so far," Paul said, slowly, with an almost shy smile directed towards Richard.

"You're probably right; he probably is some other kind of shifter," Richard said, slowly. "I mean, we can't be the only ones out there, not with so many documented occurences of werewolves, for instance."

"In films, perhaps," Paul snorted.

Richard merely shrugged, with one shoulder and gave him a wry smile.

"The ideas must come from somewhere, sweetness," he said, not unkindly. "Do you want me to go rough this guy up for looking at you in a funny way? I can tell you now, I don't like other men muscling in on my mate."

"No," Paul immediately retorted, in alarm. "He only looked. He probably thought I was a piece of filth or something, not really eyeing me up. Some people just don't like old punks, Richard."

"You're not old, and I happen to like punks," Richard said, with a small laugh. "More specifically, I love one punk."

Paul's laugh was immediate, as was Richard's intent and the happy sound transferred itself to Richard; Paul bent down and pressed a kiss against his partner's forehead suddenly.

"Come on, Reesh, let's go," he said, with a sigh. "I think we've been here long enough."

"Hmmm," Richard said, as he leant in to Paul's warmth, shoulder coming to rest against Paul's soft abdomen.

Paul chuckled and looped one arm around Richard's shoulders, surprised at how intimate the moment felt, when all was quiet and Richard was obviously enjoying the contact, minimal though it was; Paul felt the contented wash of bright orange behind his eyes, warm and comforting and happy. Richard seemed to Paul then like an overgrown cat, and he wondered then if perhaps dragons were as much the sensualist as cats were purported to be, or whether that was just Richard being like that with him, because they were mated. Paul leant in still further, and looped his other arm around Richard's shoulders then; he rested there for a moment, before he reached up and tweaked the end of Richard's slightly up-turned nose gently.