Look, After...
Well, hey, a dragon's gotta brush his teeth, doesn't he? 2203 words.
This is what happens when you're a Valanx and you listen to Big Girls Don't Cry on repeat (can I get a 'gayyyyyy'). Don't let the purple prose scare you, it's intentional. You'll see.
The drab carpet was firm and unyielding beneath socked paws and slogging footsteps. A utilitarian surface, a sponge for rainwater, grime, and stress. The vaguest modicum of comfort, rudely echoed by garish gloss white walls, laminated particle board, brass fittings.
The only occupant of this barren ambiance, the owner of those socked paws, the perpetrator of those slogging footsteps, was a young dragon of eighteen. While not, perhaps, a particularly spectacular example of his species, nor perhaps the slimmest nor most athletic individual... he was of a stature and build that, when taken together, proved at least somewhat impressive to most. One might call him average, with his pale green scales and bluish-black mane - fairly common coloration for his species - but in his unassuming countenance was at least a measure of strength, both physical and internal. A hint of what might be reflected by those slightly broad shoulders, that slightly tall stance, that somewhat sharp gaze. The details - his mildly expanded circumference, his unusually long tail, his big and clumsy paws - were generalized away, around that frame which carried him upon padding paws down the hallway. One paw clutching two objects, his navy-blue pajama pants swishing around his thick shins, his loose t-shirt hanging from his discernable deltoids.
Though he had that strength, that impression, that countenance... his steps were, in the slightest way, tentative; his attitude and bearing sought no confrontation, nor attention.
Austin was just going to brush his teeth. That was all.
A change of cadence, as he neared the door; the clunk of kinetics as his key caught and convolved. Tile under his footpaws, thin cotton separating sensitive pads from chilly ceramic. There was a sink, there was a mirror, there was an Austin. Hi, Austin.
The dragon wet his brush, applied his Aquafresh, stuck the implement of hygiene into his maw. Bristles scraped his gums and sashayed about his many fangs, cleaning away the crud of another dinner, another day. Habit. Patiently staring at himself in the mirror, surveying his blunt nose, his golden eyes, his blocky jaw. His faint musculature. His faint chubbiness. A few bubbles escaped his mouth; he tightened his lips awkwardly, swishing his tail.
He heard the familiar sounds from a moment before, and Austin's eyes caught the changing appearance of the wall behind him, as light slid across its surface. He looked further, and observed the door swinging open behind him; he watched as someone entered. Someone tall and slender, but with a solid, broad-shouldered skeleton somewhat similar to the drake's own. If the newcomer were fifty pounds heavier and a few inches shorter, their builds might have been close.
"Evening, Austin," came the greeting, and the dragon's eyes sought and followed. He glanced to his right as the sink next to him was turned on.
"Hi, Vince," he mumbled around his toothbrush.
The timberwolf - possessed of a single gold-tipped stud in his right earlobe and a remarkable aubergine fauxhawk of about three inches - had brought his own tools of dental hygiene, which he proceeded to make use of nonchalantly, while the dragon to his left found himself feeling strikingly out of place. Austin flicked one long ear uncomfortably, shifting and squishing his toothbrush against his gums awkwardly.
Maybe Vincent wouldn't mention it.
The wolf was wearing sweatpants and a jacket, marginally more attired than his reptilian sinkmate, but his paws were likewise socked, and his jacket revealed only an undershirt beneath, a tank top, a skintight garment which made visible the slight curvature of his pectoral muscles, the corners of his ribs, the promontories of his nipples. A certain dragon tried not to let his eyes find their way to such influences too often.
"How are classes going?" the wolf rumbled, businesslike.
Austin supposed it was his business, after all. He shrugged, giving the same noncommittal answer his RA no doubt received on every such query. "All right."
"Good."
Schwusch, schwusch, schwusch, went Austin's toothbrush.
Tshh-tshh, tshh-tshh, tshh-tshh, Vincent's answered.
Austin spat. Rinsed his brush off. Slurped water from his palm, being the lazy sort. Spat again.
Vincent's fluffy tail brushed against his long, scaly, maned one. The dragon flicked his away, and didn't look at the wolf.
After a slight hesitation, the older male uttered, "Austin..."
The dragon gulped.
He'd just come to brush his teeth. That was all.
The wolf's voice was low and quiet, though the room was deserted aside from the two. "...Have you... thought about... what we talked about last week?"
Had he thought about it! Ha! Ha ha! Ha! Ha, haha ha HA!
He felt the tail brush his again, and jerked his own away more forcefully, enough for Vincent to look hesitantly in his direction. Austin set his paws on the rim of the sink, eyes on the drain.
"Uh... a bit..." he muttered.
"Hm." Tshh-tshh, tshh-tshh, tshh-tshh. "What are you thinking?"
The dragon looked up, at that one. "Uh. Dunno." He shrugged and grimaced.
The wolf's brushing slowed; he looked down. After hesitating a moment, he took his brush out and spat. "Well... I thought I'd let you know... the offer's still open. If you're... interested."
Austin studied the faucet. "It would be... nice, I guess," he admitted. "Be away from the roommate dynamic, and have... instead..."
Vince nodded. "Should just be nice. Need some nice sometimes."
The dragon gulped again.
"So... are you... interested?" The timberwolf's voice was, as always, resigned and authoritative... but caught in his communication was a husky hesitance, at once reluctant and ardent.
Austin shuffled his footpaws. Just to brush his teeth. "Uh... Well... d-dunno..." he mumbled, very quiet. His cheeks were darkening as blood coursed through them. He wished he could leave.
Yet... he didn't want to leave.
Vincent looked at him uncertainly, and grimaced a bit. A furry paw came to the dragon's shoulder, gently landing upon it.
"You don't have to be afraid," the timberwolf said softly. "It's only if you want. I'm only offering my bed. Not... my body."
Austin gave a single headjerk, not quite a nod. He couldn't fathom what Vincent might mean by 'body', 'bed' was already tangled enough in his mind.
The wolf watched him a moment, and then gave him a quick pat. "Think about it some more. No rush." He turned to go.
Austin looked up quickly. "V-vince?"
The wolf stopped. Turned back, slowly.
That moment, that he'd begun to walk away... Austin felt it. Now... it was gone again.
But he knew... that he'd felt it.
"Vince..." He swallowed. "I'll... I'll try it."
The wolf smiled slowly. It was a warm, affectionate look which he gave the younger reptile, soft and friendly, yet inviting and personal. "Alright. Then... come with me."
In a trance, or perhaps a fog, the drake padded after his companion. Four socked paws left the tile, met the carpet. The RA's room was directly across the hall from the bathroom, and so only one quick glance was spared each way down the empty hallway, before Austin was stepping into Vincent's room, shutting the door rapidly behind him.
The wolf's desk lamp was on, dim and filtered. Austin set his toothbrush down on the desk, while Vincent put his own away.
Then, the drake found himself watching timidly, as Vincent shucked off his jacket, tossing it in the hamper. His thumb-digits were stuffed under the hem of his sweatpants; a sliding line eventually exposed tawny fur, knees and ankles, as that tail drew out of its tailhole, flicked and swished and swooshed.
Austin gulped. With trembling paws, he worked out the drawstring on his pajama pants, tugged and slid and stepped. He folded his pants, which he had only worn for the purpose of walking to the bathroom, and hung them over Vincent's chair, while the wolf threw his own into the hamper as well.
Next came the undershirt, peeling up from the wolf's solid torso - not material for a magazine cover, but Austin found himself staring nevertheless, as he hesitantly began to pull his t-shirt over his head. He supposed he rarely slept in a shirt, either, so it joined his pants on the chair, while Vincent's followed the trend and flopped onto the heap within the hamper.
Vincent's eyes caught his, then, and Austin doubted very much that he could excuse another step in this direction. He did sleep in his drawers.
Fortunately, it seemed Vincent did as well, for at a moment he was coming nearer, and the eyecatch seemed to be only happenstance. Austin tried very much not to pay too close attention to the wolf's underwear, and yet he found when the older male flicked off the lamp, that tight pair of blue boxer-briefs lingered, etched into his eyeballs. Clinging in all the right places, accentuating his butt and thighs and those shapes, spherical and cylindrical, ambiguous behind a generic sort of fly. Austin supposed his briefs were not so much to stare at, probably a little dorky, but at least he was wearing his favorite pair - also a shade of blue, though lighter and blue-er than the wolf's, with a black waistband and hems, that 'ringer' style that looked so cool. Probably would look better on a guy like Vincent, though, someone not quite so chunky, but they did make them in Austin's size, so. At least today hadn't been boring white day like yesterday, and the day before.
His silly musings were interrupted when he felt the wolf draw near to him, and a warm, furry paw wrapped around his own. Austin's breath caught; he heard the door behind him lock, and felt a tug on his paw.
"C'mon," Vincent murmured, just visible standing before him.
Austin took a hestitant step. Holding his paw, Vincent guided him, walking backwards and drawing him closer, closer... closer to what?
Of course, when Vincent sat down and shuffled his paw, the dragon had his obvious answer - Vincent slid the covers down and got his legs under them, never letting go of the drake's paw.
It was nearly a pragmatic, neutral thing, the way they intended to just climb into bed with each other. Austin imagined the older male with a grimace, giving a sigh and fluffing his pillow, paying no more heed to his bedmate than he might an extra pillow. The purpose was to sleep... right?
"C'mere..." came that deep, alluring rumble. He felt a tug on his paw once more, gentle but insistent.
Austin allowed himself to be drawn in. He crawled into that bed as well, and there was someone there, a timberwolf, so near and fuzzy and warm, and that timberwolf was letting him slide in and get settled, and that timberwolf was pulling the blankets up over him, and that timberwolf was wrapping arms and legs around him and curling up and nuzzling. Austin breathed out, feeling that embrace engulfing him, feeling the comfort of cuddling make its first sweet impact on his mind.
Suddenly, it was very much not a neutral thing.
Vincent took it upon himself to be big spoon, and to be the nicest, cuddliest, nuzzliest, tightest-holding big spoon Austin could imagine... not that his imagination had a great deal of experience to work off of. And yet, he was sure, quite sure, that he had not expected it would be this nice, feel this good, seem this right.
"You're safe..." Vincent rumbled; Austin could hear his smile and his tight-shut eyes reflected in his voice. "You're safe 'n I've gotcha 'n I'll keepya safe."
Something in the way he said it made the dragon sure, that Vincent was saying it as much for himself, as for the young man he was holding... and that made Austin smile as well. He might almost imagine the wolf saying "I love you," - though they weren't on such terms - but he might imagine it, with the way Vincent snuggled and held and nuzzled and even gave him a little lick on the cheek. The wolf seemed to find it such a deep, fulfilling comfort, to share his bed with another... And Austin couldn't dispute.
He supposed that was the benefit of being an RA. A room to yourself... so you could have it not to yourself, when you pleased.
And tonight, Vincent pleased to share his bed with the nice dragon boy from down the hall, who had cast one too many looks at his RA in the shower, and stammered one too many awkward comebacks to others, within the timberwolf's earshot.
Just enough evidence, just enough of an impression, that Vincent had offered... if Austin wanted... Just to try...
It had been such a nice thing, really. Being so practical about it, being clear he wasn't suggesting they mate - at least, not in the near future - being clear he enjoyed cuddling other guys, and would enjoy the same if Austin happened to be that other guy. Being clear, that he often wondered if Austin might enjoy that too.
That was a generous, selfless wolf.
Trustworthy.
Safe.
Austin breathed in, breathed out. Falling asleep in Vincent's arms, as Vincent fell asleep around him. And in that moment, both had found what they wanted.
I've actually been wanting to write this story for a very long time, at least since I came to college, but it just didn't come out until yesterday (and quite spontaneously at that). I've always been interested in people who don't figure out their sexual orientation until they're in college, and how that must feel. I wasn't one of those by a long shot.
I write so many wuffs. Seriously. Arright. Back to your regularly scheduled Other Wuff in... less than 24 hours! Don't say I never post anything, heh.