“Tomas. I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Tomas resisted the urge to lower his gaze. Pride, he told himself. “Y-yes, I know. I’m sorry.” The great creature gazing down at him usually invited him over; he’d not complained when Tomas had shown up unexpected in the past, but that was hospitality that he didn’t want to strain. “I’m sorry, Kalamindrax,” he repeated. “I was just hoping – I could really use some sensible company.”

“Shh. I’m not upset, Tomas. Come in, come in.” The dragon rose to his feet, fine black scales glinting violet where the setting sun played over them. “You make better company than the stars,” Kalamindrax observed, horned head ducking under the lip of the cave mouth; Tomas, who didn’t even come up to the dragon’s shoulder, had no such need for caution, and just jogged alongside the larger being. “But I thought you were expecting to enjoy the company of a paramour tonight.”

Tomas couldn’t help but wince. He tried not to brag about his love life, but looking back, he wondered if he’d mention that plan with any sort of smugness. All too easy imagine that he had, now. “That… won’t be happening, at least not with that one. I’d rather misjudged the man.”

“So badly as that? Come, be comfortable.” Turning into a side chamber, the dragon stretched out over an expanse of furs, serpentine body curled slightly inward, wings settling in a lazy sprawl.

Tomas tugged a few of the furs together into a thicker pile and sat upon it. “I’m afraid so,” he sighed. “He’s very good at making himself seem appealing, but he has little space in his head for anyone but himself. And he takes a dim view of the elder races.” He rested his arms over his knees, staring into the flickering depths of a glowing quartz, one of many that lit the room like so many crystalline candles. “I wish I’d known that before I bedded him.”

“Well, no great loss for you, hmm? It’s not as though you lack for opportunity on that front.”

There was a subtle edge to the dragon’s voice that it normally lacked; and it stung all the worse for being true. Shame weighed down Tomas’s head. “I’m sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t be complaining when…”

“No, no.” The dragon cut him off, uttering a long, whistling sigh. “That was uncalled for. I envy you your opportunities, but it isn’t right to scold you for them.”

“What about you?” They’d talked often enough of Tomas’s intimate life; maybe they needed some balance?

A snort. “I’ve been living among humans – and an outcast for it – since before I was of age.”

At that Tomas blinked. The dragon had been around for generations – a constant in Tomas’s own life, certainly. “What, never?”

One forepaw reached forward, the outer curve of a claw brushing along the human’s jaw. “Peace. It’s not as though I’ve met any but you that I’d wish to – oh, shards.”

It took Tomas a moment to puzzle through the words. Then his heart leaped. “Me?”

Kalamindrax tilted his great head, dark eyes meeting his guests’s. “I… feared you would be outraged at that admission.”

“Actually I’ve been curious,” Tomas said, cheeks burning. He bit his lip. “But I… had no idea if it could actually, um, work.”

The dragon’s paw tucked under his chin, and his muzzle shifted into something resembling a smile. “Having seen you with your lovers a few times… I can safely assure you we’re not all that different, Tom. If you can bear a young wyrm’s inexperience, perhaps I could still give you that pleasant night after all, hmm?”

It was something he hadn’t dared contemplate for more than a few breathless moments. And yet, somehow, when the dragon used that fond shorthand and touched him so gently, it felt… right. “I, uh… didn’t come prepared,” he admitted.

“Those oils you use?” Kalamindrax wiggled the talons of his free paw. “I can do better, I assure you.”

Tomas flushed. “I might be getting ahead of myself,” he said. “At your size, I don’t know if I could… um…” His gaze slid along that slender body, straining for a glimpse of what might await him.

“Actually…” Kalamindrax stroked the human’s sandy-blond hair. “I was rather hoping you might give me your essence, dear friend.”

The only answer Tomas could give was a giddy grin.

He hadn’t squirmed out of his clothes so eagerly in years as he did now. And though he was always a bit anxious showing himself to a new lover – and all the more so for one so imposing as the obsidian-scaled dragon – he’d been around the beast long enough to recognize the low rumble of approval for what it was. The dragon’s warm tongue stroked over his chest, his stomach, and then gave a long lick right up from his balls and along his stiffening manhood. Tomas gasped, seizing the nearest handhold, and only belatedly realized that this was the dragon’s curving horns.

“Ah… s-sorry,” he managed, letting go.

“Whatever for?” the wyrm crooned. “You’re eager. And – mmm – delicious.” The great snout nudged at Tomas’s shoulder, then a warm sigh ruffled his hair. “And so alive. I’ve… desired you for years, Tom.”

“I’ve been curious for about as long,” the young man admitted with a laugh. “I just never let myself really consider it.”

“Do more than consider, dear one.” After one light stroke to Tomas’s arousal, the dragon shifted, stretching out on his back. “Show me what it’s like. Please.”

There between his hindlegs, the scales had parted, and a spire of smooth violet was rising from them. Tomas licked his lips at the sight. Already an impressive piece indeed, and visibly growing… but it was lower that he needed to mind. His eyes alone had trouble finding the place in the dim, flickering light; but when his hands searched, they found readily enough, and the serpentine body arched upward with a thrumming moan of need.

The dragon’s touch had left him quite pleasingly slick, and his body was large. It was awkward – slender though he was, the dragon was still large enough that, straddling him, Tomas could hardly get his toes on the furs. But aside from that, it was wonderfully easy.

And in that moment, sunk into that snug warmth with the heat of the dragon’s own arousal running from his belly up to his collarbone, he felt so right. “Stars,” he gasped, “K-Kalemindrax…”

“A mouthful for a lover, hmmm?” The dragon crooned over his head. “Kal will do, I think, Tom.”

And that was what he moaned minutes later when he drove forward, clutching that violet spire against him, planting his seed deep; and moments after that, when the dragon shuddered and bucked under him and hot, sticky cream splattered his face, Kal moaned his short name in turn.

“Such a delight,” Kal murmured, his breath still quavery, his paws sliding over Tom’s sides. “Now I know why you’ve spent so long pursuing this.”

Tom couldn’t help but grin. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be only too glad to show you some more.”

They laughed together in the flickering light, savouring what was, however lopsided, nonetheless a lovers’ embrace.