Doc made a choked sound.
“Hmm?” Still with his tongue out, Ottis looked up. He found the alpha staring at him.
The straw eluded his capture, though. Ottis leaned in and wrapped his tongue around the straw, trying futilely to guide it into his mouth.
Doc breathed out sharply. “Your fucking tongue.”
Ottis perked up. “You like it?”
Two coughs broke out in different parts of the apartment.
“Don’t fuck in the kitchen!” Bruiser snapped.
“We’re not fucking,” Ottis said, rolling his eyes. “Stop assuming things!”
But he finally managed to capture the straw, closing his mouth around it with a sound of triumph.
The first suck drew cold, fizzy soda into his mouth. Ottis sucked again, glancing up at Doc.
Doc hadn’t looked away. Or rather, he hadn’t looked away from Ottis’ mouth.
“Want some? It tastes good,” Ottis said, releasing the straw. He nudged at it with his tongue; Doc made another strangled sound.
The alpha didn’t attempt to share his soda. So Ottis chased the straw again, with his mouth open and his tongue out, finally sucking it back between his lips. Then he hollowed his cheeks for another hit.
“Fuck,” Doc growled.
Was he...?
Marcie reached out and smacked the can with her little hand, shattering the moment.
Doc and Ottis jerked, remembering her existence. Ottis cringed. “I can’t believe I forgot about Marcie for two seconds.”
“More like thirty seconds,” Doc said, clearing his throat. He adjusted his shirt collar and looked away, his neck decidedly pink. “Anyway, I should—”
Marcie tried to grab the soda can again. Doc pulled it out of her reach, except she scrunched up her face and made an unhappy sound.
“Aww shucks,” Doc murmured, his demeanor going soft. He tapped the cold can against Marcie’s fingers. “There. Don’t regret it, lil spitfire.”
Marcie cheered up and grabbed the can. Then she shuddered and sneezed, a spark of flame shooting out of her mouth.
Ottis yelped. “Marcie!”
“It’s the cold,” Doc said, setting the soda can aside. He caught Marcie’s hands and flattened them against his wrist, rubbing her fingers gently. “I’m warming up her hands. Dragonets breathe fire when they encounter cold things, to balance out the temperatures around them.”
How much more was there to learn? Ottis swallowed. “That’s... Okay. I just... can’t believe she’s a dragon. It’s been eight months. Eight months of me being her dad, and I... I didn’t know until now.”
Doc leaned in, nuzzling Ottis’ forehead. The medical masks rustled against his skin. “It’s okay. It happens. This doesn’t mean you were negligent. You’ve been a great dad.”
“Really?” Ottis mumbled.
“She’s a happy child. You’ve been taking care of her. You’re trying your best, sweetheart, and that’s something I respect.”
Relief filled Ottis’ chest; he hadn’t known that he’d needed to hear those words until now. “Th-thanks.”
“I’ll be happy to say that again, as often as you need.” Doc’s gaze was warm as he looked from Marcie to Ottis. “If you’d like, we could see if she wants to shift again, when we get back to my lair. I would offer to do it here, but this place is too small for my shift.”
Ottis nodded gratefully. “Please.”
