"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.
"Hey," Richard suddenly laughed, as he jerked away from Paul's tweaking fingers.
"Move, then, you great scaled lump," Paul murmured, as he turned a tender smile down upon his lover. "I'd like to go home, please."
Richard laughed at that, and stood, close enough to slide both arms around Paul's waist and smile at him. Paul pecked a kiss against Richard's smile, and grinned back when Richard chased his mouth for another kiss. Paul allowed Richard to capture his mouth again, lips working gently against lips, Richard's arms a warm and welcome trapping cage around him. They ended the kiss when a sudden polite cough interrupted them from nearby; both men turned, arms still wrapped neatly around each other's bodies, to find Olli standing nearby, smiling at them.
"Are you ready for your cheque?" Olli asked, quietly.
"Yes," Richard said, with a smile, into the other man's quietly grinning face. "The meal was very nice, thank you."
"You can come again, if you like; you're always welcome," Olli said. "The bar's always open, if you just want a drink, or you can have a meal again. We need more people like you here."
Paul almost asked what he meant, yet Richard nodded, and forestalled further questioning by speaking again.
"We'll definitely remember that. Won't we, Paulchen?" he said, as he turned a sharp glance upon Paul.
"Absolutely," Paul replied, with a smile that was just as much genuine as it was surprised.
"Super. Hope to see you here, again. Sorry about the cat earlier," Olli said, with a roll of his eyes at the two dragons. "He's usually all right, like I said, but there are some people he reacts to more than others. It's not personal, I assure you. We are a safe haven here, despite ferocious, oddly named cats."
Paul suddenly grinned at that, an expression which was suddeny echoed by Richard. They remained silent, even as they paid for their meal, both splitting the costs despite much gentle arguing between them. The man that had stared at Paul in the rest-room came to stand nearby, and Richard, too, stared back at him, a little alarmed. He said nothing and neither did Paul; instead, they agreed to return when Olli gently insisted that they do so, repeating again his earlier assertions that Sanguine was a safe haven for them.
They descended from the door out in the night street again, which was cooler, fresher than the day had been, although an odd, electrical humid charge in the air promised a thunder storm before the night was through. Paul shivered, dragon self reacting with excitement to the frisson in the air; he wondered then what it would be like to fly through the storm, to ride the winds and to witness lightning close up. He didn't realise he'd spoken aloud until Richard answered, him, surprising him with his voice and his words.
"I wouldn't advise it, Paulchen," Richard laughed, the noise a soft deep rumble in the dark streets. "I've never tried it myself and I wouldn't want to, either. Imagine if some of the lightning seared through your wings? Not a pleasant thought."
Paul shuddered against Richard, suddenly imagining ripped wings and seared musculature, and the accompanying pain such torment would cause.
"Anyway, I don't think this is the time or place to be talking about things like that, Paul," Richard admoinished gently, as he surreptitiously glanced at the street around them. "Leave that for our flat, where it's safe."
"Got ya," Paul said, with a rueful laugh, more aimed at himself than at Richard. "Sometimes I just can't stop talking; I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry for that, Paul," Richard said, amusement warming his tone and colouring their link with lemon yellow, as they finally reached Paul's car. "I like your constant chatter. Just watch what you're talking about and where, is all I'm saying."
"Hmm," Paul said, agreeably, with a nod.
He could see what Richard was trying to say; only they knew of their draconic secret after all, and Richard, he supposed, was quite rightly being cautious. Paul himself found it hard to trust people, and always had done; he didn't know what would happen to them should anyone find out their secret. It would undoubtedly be terrifying, Paul guessed, with the uncertainty of what people could do to those that were different, yet he hadn't lived through the horror of being forced into the shifter's life like Richard had. He remembered again the other man's tale, of being captured, of being drugged, of being forcibly changed against his will into a dragon-shifter, just to lead an American group of dragons. Richard himself had more reason than Paul to be distrustful and suspicious where all others were concerned.
"What d'you think Olli meant, anyway? When he said that Sanguine was a safe haven for people like us?" Paul asked, aiming to change the subject just slightly.
"Probably meant gay men," Richard offered, with a shrug and a confused frown. "I can't think what else he could have meant. It's not like he would have known about the other thing that we're not mentioning in public."
Paul laughed at that, and nodded, knowing that his lover had a point.
"That's probably it," he agreed, with a satisfied smile. "Anyway, here's the car."
Richard grunted and waited on the pavement, whilst Paul unlocked it, in preperation for sliding behind the steering wheel once more.
****
As soon as they were in the car and rolling through the traffic again, light though it was now, Paul thought to ask a question.
"What's a group of dragons called?" he asked.
"What?" Richard asked, in surprise, jerked from whatever dark thoughts had been previously swirling through his mind before Paul had spoken.
"A group of dragons. I know you get herds of horses, and flocks of birds, but what's a group of dragons called?" Paul asked, musingly, as he navigated their car into a junction, angling further towards Kreuzberg and home.
"Anything you bloody well like, I should imagine. Who's gonna argue against a dragon?" Richard suddenly laughed.
Paul laughed in turn, even as Richard asked another question.
"Why are you asking, anyway?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"I dunno; I guess I was just wondering," Paul said, with a shrug and a brief glance towards his lover. "Randomly, you know. I can be random, at times."
"I'd noticed," Richard said, fondly. "You do make me laugh, you know, Paulchen."
"Good," Paul said, with a grin and a small, deep chuckle, feeling oddly complimented by Richard's admission.
They drove in silence for a while, Paul's fingers tapping crazy cadences against the steering wheel.
"I've always liked a flight of dragons, myself," Richard finally replied, quietly, breaking into the silence.
"What?" Paul asked, jerked out of his reverie for a while.
Richard patiently repeated his observation and Paul nodded, taking the suggestion seriously, as he angled the car to a halt outside their block of flats.
"Although if you have a better idea, we can use that. Like I said, who's gonna argue against a dragon?" Richard smiled.
Paul laughed again, before he shrugged.
"Flight of dragons is nice. I like it. I'll think on it, though, see if anything comes to mind, if you like," he said, as he unsnapped his selt-belt from its holder and fed the flat ribbon of it through his fingers.
"Okay; you do that," Richard replied, with a brief, yet still amused, snort of laughter.
Paul nodded at him, before he slid out of the car and onto the pavement; he waited for Richard to join him, before he locked the car and they made their way inside their building, to walk the short flight of stairs to their flat.
****
That night, Richard dreamed; his cries and his sudden terrified, jerking movements woke Paul, and he barely missed getting a fist to the face when he tried to wake Richard in turn. Richard soon burrowed into Paul's side, as soon as he was fully awake and aware of himself and his surroundings, head coming to a cushioned rest against Paul's shoulder.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, liebchen," Richard murmured, as his hands bunched into the back of Paul's shirt.
"That's okay," Paul murmured, as he held Richard closer and sent a wash of soothing burnt orange comfort into his lover's body.
He smoothed one hand against Richard's back, thinking as he did so that it had been a long time since his lover had had one of his nightmares; by Paul's reckoning, it must have easily been a few months. Although Paul was surprised at the return of the nightmares, he supposed that it was to be expected; something like trauma induced nightmares didn't just disappear overnight nor should they be expected to stay away for good. The mind was an impossible labyrinth and often threw the owner of it a curveball that could set them back months, even years, of recovery, doubly so if they'd lived through something that would have destroyed another person.
Paul sighed and didn't object when Richard snuggled closer against him; he thought he felt the soft wipe of tears against his bare shoulder. His heart clenched at that, but still he remained silent; to point out the fact that Richard was crying might seem like a mockery or a perceived insult, perhaps. Instead, he turned his face against Richard's, pressed a quiet kiss against Richard's wet cheek and remained silent. In time, Richard calmed and eased away a little, with a wash of gentle blue gratitude, athough he did not relinquish his hold upon Paul quite yet. He gave Paul an embarrassed smile, as though he expected to be mocked for his loss of masculinity. Instead, Paul merely smiled and pressed a warm, and lingering, kiss against Richard's mouth.
"You okay, now, love?" he asked, as he reached up with his thumb to wipe away the last tear from Richard's salt-wet cheek.
"I will be," Richard told him, with a brave, yet still wobbly, smile. "Thanks, Paulchen. For being there. Again."
Paul guessed that Richard had also meant - thanks for not taking the piss - and he merely smiled at him.
"I'm your lover, Reesh. Of course I'm gonna be here for you," he said. "I'm a good listener, as you know."
"I know," Richard said, and he sighed, warm breath gusting upon Paul's cheek. "Those nightmares are back."
"I guessed," Paul said, without judgement. "Same as before?"
"Yeah," Richard replied, before his hands bunched in the back of Paul's shirt again. "Why now? Why are they back, Paul?"
Richard stared at him, and paused long enough for Paul to gather that the other man genuinely expected an answer, yet Paul had no answer to give. He doubted anyone would be able to give his lover a satisfactory one and that made his heart ache in realisation. Only time, and love, could hopefully heal his mate, and Paul was thankful that he had plenty of both to share with Richard.
"I don't know, my love, but you must realise that the mind takes longer to heal than the body does," Paul told him gently, "Give it time, and it'll settle down eventually. Be patient. I'll still be here at the end of it all, waiting for you. Loving you."
"I know," Richard said, as he leant in to rest his forehead against Paul's own. "I think that's the only thing getting me through most days."
Paul sighed at that and didn't know quite what to say; anything he could tell Richard might destroy the moment, cheapen it somehow, so instead, he adjusted the angle of his head, leant in and kissed Richard. He felt his lover's lips mould against his own, forming soft, yet still desperate shapes against him. When Paul leant away again, he exhaled sharply though his nose and considered Richard's face for a while.
"D'you want some hot chocolate?" he asked, finally, when it became obvious that Richard wasn't going to ask, or speak, first.
"Okay," Richard said, but he didn't immediately let go of Paul's shirt.
Instead, his fingers seemed to snarl all the more closely against Paul's back, thumbs rubbing gentle caresses against his skin through the thin cotton of his t shirt; it seemed as though Richard still wanted the confort of Paul's body, despite agreeing to hot chocolate.
"I'm sorry, Reesh, but if you want your chocolate, you're gonna have to let me go," Paul said, not unkindly. "Unless you wanna come with?"
"Please," Richard said, and that one word broke Paul's heart still further with the utter desolate loneliness trapped behind it.
Richard's embarrassed look, and his wash of red emotion, deepened, yet still Paul did not say anything. Instead, he waited patiently for Richard to let go before Paul slid out from beneath the covers and waited again for Richard to join him. He led the other man through to the kitchen where he made hot chocolate and sliced up some of the squidgy chocolate fudge cake that he knew Richard liked. Richard wolfed down the slice of cake greedily and asked for more even before Paul had finished his first slice. Paul laughed at that yet didn't object, glad to see that Richard had yet to lose his appetite for Paul's home made cake.
"You will have to give me the proper recipe for this one day, Paulchen," Richard said, quietly, as he accepted his second portion with a nod of thanks. "It'll save me trying to make educated guesses."
"And I will have to kill you, if I do," Paul laughed.
"Or maybe just kill everyone else, so I don't have to tell 'em," Richard pointed out cheekily, some of his former good humour leaching back in dribs and drabs.
"Now I like the sound of that," Paul said, with a sudden bright rill of laughter, that dimmed into a thoughtful smile. "I will tell you one day, Reesh, I promise. You can help me make it, even."
"Would you?" Richard asked, in surprise. "Really? I thought it was a family secret."
"Yeah, it is, but you're practically family, now, darling," Paul said, as he dropped a kiss upon Richard's head, inhaling the scents of the other man's shampoo. "Love ya, Reesh."
"Love you too," Richard said, as he briefly rested his shoulder and the side of his head against Paul's abdomen, a wash of golden dragon love warming Paul's belly.
Paul huffed and returned to his seat, when Richard had leant away again; Paul continued to eat, eyes closing partially as the sweet, fudgey taste of the cake flooded his tongue and his senses. He even got up from the table to cut a second slice of his own, glad for the fact that neither of them actually were in danger of ever putting on weight. Their dragon sides took care of the extra calories they consumed per day, ensuring that their normal weights, prior to their transformations, were always maintained.
In time, they returned to bed, where Richard showed interest in making love. Paul was quick to respond, body soon aroused by soft caresses and kisses carefully placed in strategic points on his body; when their bodies joined however, their love-making was slow, and sweet, and tender, dragons coiling and twining together as their bodies moved in time. Paul couldn't remember a time before when he felt so loved, so needed and wanted as he did right then. His body arched up against Richard 's time and again, cries soft and filled with desperate need, and tender love and when he came it was with a sigh of Richard's name upon his lips swiftly followed by a choked declaration of love, which Richard gratefully returned. When it was over, they lay against one another, sated, relaxed, bodies entwined as they finally fell asleep.