A brassy “A12” greeted Barry’s eyes as he walked down the stark hallway and approached the door. The glossy plaque was a familiar sight to him by now. Though they were just letters and numbers he had only seen for a couple months, they were enough for him to immediately think “home." He shuffled the bag of groceries as he reached around to unlock the door.

It opened to impenetrable darkness causing Barry to take a couple of hesitant steps forward. He reached out with his free hand to trace the wall beside him while the other gripped the bag of groceries and squashed it to his chest. His footsteps echoed against a hard stone floor and he heard the faint sound of dripping water in the distance.

A blaze of soft blue light greeted Barry as he emerged into the main room. Grand pillars stood erect in rows up to the ceiling, where moss cascaded over their illuminated blue patterns. Carvings of winged beasts sprang forth from the walls. A cavern seemed to sprawl for miles into catacombs and tunnels. A clump of soft grass lay in the center of the clearing, enshrouded in darkness where the light didn’t reach. Barry stepped forward and, as if on cue, a ring of flickering torches flared around the mound of grass.

“It seems you have walked right into my lair,” a deep voice rumbled from the dark. A pair of golden eyes glinted down at Barry from the darkness.

Barry stood still simply holding the groceries.

“It’s not often that the mortal folk stumble into the home of unspoken greatness,” the voice continued, almost with a chuckle. “For centuries, mankind has fallen at the feet of the Dracokin in adulation. So too shall be your fate.”

The flames of the torches leaped up towards the ceiling, revealing an elegantly draped figure. Light and shadows revealed the form of a shapely man, coyly stroking the grass beneath him. The flames reflected off his glossy skin, his rock-hard body shimmering like a thousand stars in the night sky. His golden eyes held a promise of intimacy, while his grin spoke of deception. He leered over every delectable morsel of Barry’s body with the hungry gaze of a predator and he turned his body to fully display the raging prize he had in mind for Barry.

“Tremble before my might, mortal, and worship my—”

“Xan, could you cut it out?” Barry huffed. “I need to put food away in here.”

The sculpted man’s eyes bugged a little. He let his body unwind in swift defeat.

“I thought you liked that!” Xanathen protested, the grass below him dissolving into a beige couch. He hung his head as the cavern and chamber faded back to the mundane room.

“I do,” Barry replied with an ounce of sympathy, “but it’s like 90 degrees out and I’ve got ice cream in here. I’d like to put it away before it melts everywhere.”

The cavern had half-melted by this point, along with the ice cream in the paper sack. Pillars evaporated to reveal gray painted walls.

“Let it melt! It’s just ice cream—”

“That you asked me to get,” Barry said. He went into the kitchen. “I’m not letting it melt. We’re not getting ants in here again. That was a nightmare. By the way, there was a two-for-one sale on them. You’re welcome.”

“I was going to thank you. You didn’t let me!”

“So, then thank me already.”

“Fine! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!” He lobbed a vacuum-sealed package of jerky at Xanathen’s chest. His draconic lover’s yelp of protest was immediately quelled as he realized it was the peppered flavor. He shredded the plastic wrapping as he began to gnaw on the dried meat, exchanging the lust of one meat for another.

The mirage had completely vanished now to reveal the basic apartment where they lived. Compared to the wide walls of stone, the walls of gray seemed to envelop them. Etchings and mystical blue lights vanished into the ether, leaving simple white carpeting and a basic overhead light brightening a minimalist apartment. The barren living room was furnished with just the basics: a TV with a few movies, a couch, and a small coffee table seemingly for the only purpose of dumping extraneous things on.

Months prior, Barry had flown into the Bermuda Triangle and was assumed dead. The few friends and family who went in search of his belongings had found an apartment that looked either uninhabited or like somebody had already taken everything. Aside from missing a few yearbooks and maybe some clothes, the apartment was barely any different from what Barry had been used to for so long. There was a surreal feeling of ‘home’ to his spartan surroundings.

Barry looked from the kitchen to his lover. Xanathen seemed to be protesting the thought of wearing clothes and chose to continue strutting around in the nude instead. He chuckled softly to himself and began putting away the food.

“At least put some pants on,” Barry called out from the kitchen. “You’re gonna flash the neighbors.”

“If they could see me naked, they would thank me,” Xanathen said.

All his life, Barry had heard the term “fish out of water.” Xanathen was something entirely different. He was more like a fish that walked on his fins while screaming out into the world: “I’m not a fish!”

Xanathen hadn’t been born into the same world as Barry. Not even close. While Barry often felt like a lone island, Xanathen had literally been on a desert island for nearly two hundred years. He had survived by his own merits in a lawless world without expectations or obligations. Instead of being raised to consider the wants and needs of others, he grew up with the carnal instincts of survival and desire. If there was something he wanted, whatever it was, Xanathen was all too confident that he would get it.

Bringing him to this new land wasn’t anything like Barry had expected. As he struggled to reach home, he wasn’t sure what he was returning to, but he hadn’t planned for the chaos the dragon would bring. The dragon seemed fascinated with everything and wasn’t satisfied until he had asked every single question that popped into his head.

Xanathen’s curiosity for the new world of the United States seemed to have no end. When he was first brought to the sandy beaches of Florida, Barry remembered being pulled by the hand as they strolled the streets, Xanathen would stop in mid-strut, crack his neck towards whatever immediately caught his interest and point.

“Barry, why is there a headless man there?” he asked.

“That’s a mannequin,” Barry replied, looking into the boutique window.

“How morbid.” His lips curled bitterly as he thought about it, looking intently at the pasty human-esque body sporting the latest swimsuit. “Putting out headless bodies for display.”

“It’s not a real person. It just looks kinda like one.”

“Why?”

“To show off the clothes.”

“Then why not just display the clothes? Why have headless people?”

“I don’t know, I guess to show how it looks on a body?”

Xanathen pursed his lips as he examined the display behind the glass, almost fogging up the window. Barry’s face flushed a little as he noticed the people around them watching with amusement until he mustered the strength to pull Xanathen away and further down the sidewalk, the dragon catching sight of more storefronts and asking more questions.

The number of questions never lessened. They ranged from many ‘whys’ and ‘hows’ to lots of ‘whats’ sprinkled in for good measure. Every building, sign, car, and, well, everything and anything he saw was subjected to it. Barry was always happy to answer them to the best of his ability, as he tempered each response with understanding and insight. It wasn’t Xanathen’s fault, after all, that he didn’t know any of this. No matter how powerful a dragon he was, he couldn’t see what was going on in the world outside his island. Barry willingly accepted his role as Xanathen’s guide and spokesman for the civilized world for the first couple of months.

At least that’s what he thought. The first several hundred questions were met with cheerful enthusiasm. It was invigorating to see the world he had taken for granted from a fresh point of view. He’d never looked at things that way before and while he had described them back on the island, it wasn’t the same as experiencing it for real. The responses began to dull over time, though. He continued to answer as best he could, but the enthusiasm waned. Barry just wanted Xanathen to understand everything now. They were at a cafe for lunch when, as Xanathen pointed out god knows what and asked all about it, Barry noticed a nearby toddler pointing to the exact same thing and asking the same questions. The intoxicating new perspective had run its course on Barry, leaving him with a pounding headache and a sick feeling at the sound of ‘why?’

Wherever the two went they were the focus of attention, and Xanathen couldn’t be bothered to feel an ounce of shame. Barry was certain that was the one thing he couldn’t teach him. He would firmly entwine his fingers with Barry’s as they walked down the street, the smug expression on his face almost daring anyone to say anything. When getting food, he would declare to the clerk something to the tune of “Hello. My handsome lover Barry and I would like to buy some food.” He would squarely plant a wet kiss on Barry’s forehead or lips, whichever he had closer access to at the time. The reactions of the employees ranged from an affectionate giggle, to a disgusted scowl or, more often than not, a vacant stare into the distance while they waited till it was time to clock out. Regardless of how the people around reacted, Barry’s reaction was always the same. A warm flush of red flooded his face as anxiety rushed through him. Every piercing eye on them grated on his nerves and he always wondered ‘What do they think of me?’

Despite the jitters that ran down his spine at every public display of affection, he couldn’t push it away. Even when the dragon was at his most embarrassing, he felt drawn to Xanathen. Although his confidence might have been shaken in public, it still lured him in. It was all done with innocence and good intentions. There was a part of him that was flattered by Xanathen’s loud public proclamations of love. He could never push Xanathen away. All he could do was melt in his arms under the heat.

“So!” Xanathen announced after swallowing the last bit of jerky. “Tonight, let’s go somewhere new! I’ve been wanting to see where that road near the one big sign goes. It’ll be great! We’ll drive until the road ends, see all the things, maybe eat a new food, and maybe find a new place to make love.”

Barry closed the fridge while he finished putting food away. He suddenly felt Xanathen’s arms constrict around him and his hands squeeze gently around his body. Soft lips met Barry’s cheek as his draconic lover buried his face into his with a muffled laugh. Barry giggled softly as his body went limp with the embrace, but he shook his head.

“Not today, babe. I’m tired,” Barry declined weakly as he leaned into Xanathen’s shoulder.

Xanathen’s shoulders slumped as the excited look in his eye quickly faded to a glossy haze of disappointment.

“I’m not doing it on purpose. I’m just tired!”

Xanathen followed close behind Barry as he sank into the couch with a contented sigh. Xanathen sat next to him but his body refused to give way like Barry’s had. Instead he crossed his arms as his thick brows furrowed in frustration. Barry stretched his legs under the coffee table and his joints made a sickening pop as he let his arms sprawl wildly over the couch.

“You’re always tired,” Xanathen bitterly retorted.

“Babe, please, I’m not in the mood for this. Can we just relax today? Please?”

“I’ve been in this apartment for days. I’d like to get out and see things!”

“I know you do but I’ve been really busy lately and—”

Barry couldn’t bring himself to finish his statement. He could feel his eyelids closing as he spoke.

This was the first day off he’d had in a while. If he wasn’t out flying, saving, or just being a pilot in the Coast Guard, he was out doing something else. His life back home had consisted of going to work, helping Xanathen fill out papers and attain citizenship, driving here, going there, explaining this, stopping Xanathen from doing that. If he wasn’t driving to and fro, he was being bent over constantly to satiate Xanathen’s intense libido. As giddy as he was just looking at Xanathen, he was running low on the energy he once prided himself on having. Everything had become a mere blur, slipping through his fingers.

He slouched against Xanathen, burying his face into his sturdy shoulders. His eyelids grew heavier as he mumbled the rest of his thoughts until they were barely coherent. Xanathen wrapped his muscular arm around him, held him close and leaned into his face for a kiss. An intrusive buzzing vibrated from Barry’s jeans.

Barry fished the phone from his pocket and gave it a quick glance, tossing it over his shoulder and letting it go to voicemail behind him. Xanathen tilted his head. “Who was that?”

“No one,” Barry sighed tiredly.

Xanathen looked over Barry’s shoulder, examining the screen on the nearby cushion.

“Mom,” he read the screen aloud.

“…Yes.”

“Answer it! It’s your mother!” He scooted Barry closer to the phone until it went silent. “Are you going to keep ignoring her?”

“Yes,” Barry said. “No. Ah, I don’t know. I’ll call’r back when I call’r back.”

“So call her back now.”

“I don’t…feel like it.”

Xanathen looked Barry in the eye, less than amused, and the two sat in awkward silence. Barry shifted in his seat as he glanced back and forth between Xanathen and the phone. He swallowed the lump lodged in his throat and stared blankly at the missed call. His stomach sank a little as the phone rang again several more times. It finally stopped when there were five messages on the phone.

“So. Why don’t you call her back?” Xanathen asked, breaking the silence.

“Look, just…It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it?”

“Just…I’m alive. She knows I’m alive. What more do I need to say?”

The two sat in an unbroken silence again, stewing in their own discomfort. What would be appropriate to say to a woman who, until recently, thought her one and only son was dead? Xanathen sat with a perplexed expression on his face as he contemplated the situation, baffled by the very thought of talking to a mother at all. If he could talk to his own mother, what would he say? His mind blanked as he thought about it. Not a single topic came to mind. What would he say to someone who was only a distant memory? He could barely recall a single thing about her. His heart tilted a bit as he thought of knowing her no better than some random stranger.

Barry contemplated his mother’s call, dreading the buzzing of his phone breaking the silence again. What could he possibly say to her? “Hi, Mom, I’m just fine. I lived on a deserted island with a dragon who’s now my boyfriend! Say hi to Dad for me!” His stomach twisted as he thought of all the unfortunate outcomes of such a conversation. One of the possibilities that seemed to be the kindest to him, would be his mother nodding softly, each nod getting heavier with the realization that the trauma and isolation had made her little boy lose his mind and that he needed to be sent away for clinical help. Who in their right mind would hear a story about falling in love with a dragon and take it seriously?

Then there was the other option. “Boyfriend?” They wouldn’t hear the rest of it. His stomach sank as he thought about how they had talked about things like that before and felt a growing sense of dread shimmy down his back, before solidifying like a ton of lead in the very pit of his stomach. How would they look at him after he confessed something like that? They had never been the most tolerant or accepting of people. Granted, they had always prided themselves on being friendly and, even at his worst, they always forgave him.

Maybe that would be the best outcome after all, and Barry was worrying for nothing.

He and Xanathen let out simultaneous sighs as they lodged themselves into the cushions of the couch, expelling their concerns just for a brief moment. Their uncomfortable thoughts were interrupted as they noticed one another. They smiled warmly and moved closer, Xanathen wrapping his burly arm around Barry’s shoulder as he leaned into his side with an affectionate nuzzle. Their shared warmth melted all the problems that surrounded them, even if it was just for a little while. Despite not being able to remember the last time he didn’t feel so damn tired, Barry could at least look into Xanathen’s flickering golden eyes and feel it was all worth it. That impish smile of his that spread from cheek to cheek always assured Barry that he did good that day, and that he was in a safe place away from the craziness of the world. Xanathen’s eccentricities might have added some bonus stresses to the life Barry lived but that infectious laugh of his made those stresses fly right out the window. The small moments of silence were priceless to him.

“So…maybe we can try that shower sex again?” Xanathen purred in Barry’s ear.

“Is that all you think about?” Barry rolled his eyes with a knowing sigh. “Not now.”

Xanathen put his other hand to his cheek, accepting, with as much dignity as he could, that he wouldn’t be winning this.

The TV flickered on and filled the air with sounds of whatever program happened to be on. They didn’t watch anything in particular but opted instead to hop from channel to channel, occasionally paying attention and making comments. Most of all it was just left as background noise as the two held each other close.

“Oh! That’s a baseball game!” Xanathen exclaimed proudly, like he had been clued in on some insanely obscure reference.

“That’s not a baseball game, that’s a commercial.”

“It’s a baseball game. I know baseball. There’s the diamond and they’re hitting balls with a stick!”

“It’s not a baseball game. They’re tossing a hot dog. It’s a commercial.”

“Oh.” Xanathen said. “Barry? When will we play baseball again? I thought it was a lot of fun.”

Barry reflected on that, letting his mind take a trip back to the island where they first met. He remembered that game on the hot, pearly beach and how the sweat trickled down Xanathen’s sculpted abs, as the clear ocean water splashed on the shore. He remembered being on that tropical beach without a care in the world and teaching Xanathen how to play an impromptu version of his favorite sport. He thought back on that muscular frame while it twisted and bulged as Xanathen swung at the coconuts and they burst on impact.

The memory crashed with a sickening thud as he thought about just how hard Xanathen could, and would, hit. Instead of being on the hypnotic seashore, Xanathen was out in the park, surrounded by tons of passers-by, the crowd getting bigger with each ball that exploded like confetti on impact. So many people were whispering among themselves at the oddity of it, staring in awe at the physical bouts of strength on display. How could any normal human destroy so many of those? they’d murmur as another ball fell in a limp pile of string and bits. He must be something else.

That was when his tail would sprout, swinging triumphantly with each crack of the bat, keeping time with the horrified gasps of the crowd like the rhythm of metronome.

“Soon,” Barry said, giving the vaguest answer he could.

“How soon?”

“Just soon, I’dunno. I gotta find a day where I’m off, when there’s good weather, and a big empty field…”

“Tell me where the park is and I can do it myself,” Xanathen said plainly.

“No, it’s a long drive. Really, we’ll go together, I promise—”

“No need to drive. I can fly, remember?” He tapped Barry’s nose with a smirk.

“No!” Barry shouted, turning immediately to Xanathen. “I mean, uh, it’s fine. Really. We’ll go next time I’m off work.”

Xanathen sat coldly on his side of the couch as he let Barry’s reaction set in. An unamused expression hardened on his angular face, darkening his features.

“I’m tired of being cooped up here,” Xanathen growled. “If I want to fly somewhere, I will.”

“Babe, no, please!”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m a dragon! A mighty creation of the powers that be! The wielder of untold strength, the weaver of divine magic—”

“—The master of untold fates and power,” the two concluded in unison. Barry gave a heavy sigh, having heard that phrase so many times. Xanathen glowered in frustration.

“I know, babe, I know. It’s not fun,” Barry continued with exasperation. So much for just relaxing this evening. “But please. I’m not doing this to be a killjoy. The world isn’t ready for…well…”

“They’re not ready for dragons. Is that it?”

“Well…yeah. Remember how I first reacted when I saw you?”

“Yes. You were red in the face and panting, slightly aroused—,” Xanathen’s cold expression warmed a little as he chuckled at his own remark.

“No!” Barry groaned, trying to hold himself back from laughing. “I meant you as you. As a dragon. No one believes in dragons anymore. If they see a dragon flying over the city, they’re gonna call an air raid and shoot you down first, or who knows what else? Either way, it won’t be good.”

Xanathen firmly held his ground, fingers digging into the cloth of the couch and a scowl enveloping his face. He let out a shaky, draconic growl as his eyes flashed with white-hot intensity. The area around him even seemed to fade into wispy shades of violet.

He took a deep breath, and the aura around him soon fell away. Barry wrapped his arm around Xanathen and held him close, running his fingers through his hair comfortingly. Xanathen’s breath grew longer as it travelled through his flared nostrils.

Barry internally winced at the sight of Xanathen so defeated. If he could, he would let him spread his wings and fly over the world and strut down Main Street as a full-bodied dragon.

Sometimes though, Barry thought sadly as he held Xanathen close to him, doing what you want isn’t the best idea.

“I’m not saying never,” Barry soothed as he brushed through his hair. “Just not now. You’re still so new to this world. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing will happen to me!” Xanathen rejected Barry’s statement. “I’m stronger than any man here, and—”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Barry repeated with more emphasis. “It’s a big world out there, and I don’t even wanna think what’ll happen if you blow your cover.”

“—I thought you said America was a place where you could be whatever you wanted.”

Ah. Using his own words against him. Nothing was quite the kick in the teeth like the boot you made yourself. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as Xanathen glared at him, awaiting confirmation.

“It is. Just…” Barry trailed off, unable to think of what else he could possibly add.

“It either is or it isn’t.”

“Trust me when I say it’s both. It’s got so many different people, and we’re all still growing. But we haven’t gotten as far as we’d like.

“I love you—” Barry’s words were both reassuring and soft as he leaned in closer, pressing his face to Xanathen’s. “You know that, right? I’m absolutely crazy about you. You’re the best thing in my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Xanathen sat quietly in Barry’s embrace, bitterly sulking while surrounded by the warm glow of his boyfriend’s affection. His eyes rolled as he thawed out. “Please, go on. I like this part.”

Barry let out a laugh as he focused on squeezing his hands and looking Xanathen in the eyes. “I really do love you. This hurts me to do, but trust me. I just want you to be ready for the world out there.”

“I love you, too,” Xanathen gave in, pressing a soft kiss to Barry’s lips. “Sorry for snapping. I’m just going crazy being here all by myself! There’s only so many times I can wash the dishes before it loses its luster.”

“Soon, soon,” Barry reassured. “Just, not everything is solved by throwing yourself into it. Sometimes you gotta take it slow and be patient.”

“Right. Right,” he sighed as he squeezed Barry closer, planting another kiss on him with more affection than the last time.

The tension in the air dissipated as they held each other close. It seemed like everything was under control for now. It was just the two of them in their small little lovenest, taking all the problems they had day by day.

The tall man stood up and scratched his back as he pulled away from the couch, giving a lazy ‘I’ll be back. Getting some pants,’ before striding into the bedroom. Barry sunk into the couch. He felt a feeling of pride that he’d managed to clear the situation up. With a little bit of communication, there was nothing the two of them couldn’t get through. He stretched his arms and put his hands on the cushions, feeling the cushy texture beneath him.

Odd. Wasn’t his phone next to him? There was no phone there. Not in the cushions or on the floor. It was gone.

As he began to panic, he thought it sure as hell didn’t take this long to put on a pair of pants. His eyes slowly widened as he began to put the pieces together. Begging to be wrong, he stumbled to the bedroom and opened the door.

Xanathen’s muscular physique sat on the bed. He had the phone up to his ear and was in mid-conversation. Barry’s heart plummeted to his gut as Xanathen looked over pleasantly and held out the phone to him:

“Here you go. It’s your mom.”