“Can... can I touch you?” I ask hesitantly, facing him. I don’t know how much he—either the dragon or the man—can understand me right now, but I’m assuming it’s generally frowned upon to touch a dragon without permission. He rests his head and slowly blinks again, reminding me of a cat who’s decided you’re worthy of being its pet. Cautiously, I extend my arm to the tip of his nose as he exhales from the two scaly nostrils on either side.
The moment I touch him, a jolt of static shock makes my arm go numb, and then a twelve-ton dragon sneezes on me.
Which I’m sure is a sentence that has never been uttered before in the history of mankind. I freeze, eyes closed, as the dragon unwinds from where he’s wrapped around me and moments later I hear Ramsey’s footsteps crunch through the snow.
“Oh fuck, okay hold still.”
“Hold still? Are you fucking kidding me?” except it sounds more like “Hmmph hmm? Mmr oo hukkin hiddng me?” because I can’t open my mouth, or eyes, or breathe.
Oh God, I think I’m going to vomit.
“Here, let me—” he gently takes my chin and tilts my head back so he can wipe my face with his discarded shirt. “I amsosorry.”
Never have I wanted to shoot laser beams from my eyes like Cyclops more than now.
“That’s never happened before, I swear,” he tries not to laugh.
When my eyes and mouth are finally clear, I glare at him. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
With that, he doubles over, putting his hands on his knees and laughing until tears stream down his face. Despite dripping dragon snot, I can’t stop the hysterical laugh that escapes.
“Okay but,” he gasps between breaths, “it could have been so much worse.”
I flick a glob of slime off my arm and crook my eyebrow. “How. How could it possibly be any worse than this?”
“He could have set you on fire,” he says, wiping his eyes. His skin is smoking as he stands there in only his underwear, having sacrificed his shirt for the cause. Wonderful. Hot half-naked guy versus me, covered in dragon snot.
“Honestly, I think I’d prefer being burnt to a crisp next time.” He chuckles, as we work together to peel his sweatshirt over my head and turn it inside out to continue wiping me down.
“Noted.” He smirks, getting my back while I work on de-snotting my legs. And if he accidentally brushes my ass once or twice, I pretend not to notice. Because even if by some miracle I manage to get dragon snot out of every crevice, I’ll never live this down.
“You can’t tell anyone about this. Ever. Not even Milo.Especiallynot Milo.”
“Sure thing, boss.” He mock salutes, and I narrow my eyes.
“You owe me. I don’t know what yet, but you owe me.”
He chuckles and helps me step through the snow until we reach the cobblestone path once more. “Name it.”
“Don’t write checks your ass can’t cash,” I mutter. We walk back to the dorms and I ask him to grab some clean clothes for me in my room while I head straight for the showers.
“Hey Nyx?” He calls out a few minutes later. I peek out of the stall and see his arm reaching through the door with a handful of clean clothes. “Where can I put these?”
“You can come in, just put it on the counter by the sinks.” He opens the door fully, covering his eyes with his other hand. It’s kind of cute. What’s not is the way he’s still shirtless, with his hastily put on jeans hanging unbuttoned around his waist. Unlike earlier, I don’t bother resisting the urge to drink in every muscle.
I’m naked. He’s half-naked. Fair’s fair, or something like that.
“Dude, your dragon just slimed me, I don’t have much modesty left.” I laugh, as he turns his gorgeously muscled back on me and watches the door.
He shrugs. “It’s the least I can do.”
When the water begins to run clear after three rounds of scrubbing every inch of my body, he passes me my clothes and I get dressed in the stall, thankful my underwear and bra survived snot-pocalypse so he didn’t have to go through my drawers. After pulling on the yoga pants and oversized t-shirt he picked out, I open the door to see him standing next to the stall, arms crossed and head tilted back against the tiled wall.
“You can open your eyes now,” I tease, and notice his eyes flash when he looks me over. “Wait, what did he just say to you?”
He coughs and clears his throat, before answering, “Oh he just—wanted to apologize. For earlier.”
Liar, liar, unbuttoned, ass-hugging pants on fire.
