FSE

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The cat loved when people looked at him. The eyes that fell on him when he stepped out onto stage, the eyes that looked him up and down hungrily. Seeing the men turn their heads just to look at him and only him when the stage announcer called his name.

As egotistical as it sounded.

It was just the cherry on top of an already delicious sundae.

Starlight was his typical name. What he usually went by when it came to the stage. But every once in a while, when the lounge needed something a bit more, well, enticing. He would dress in his dozens of jewels, not quite transparent, but close enough, loincloth, and pants that exposed everything say for his ankles. Then, and only then, was he known as Tarot cards, the lord of night.

Those nights were usually left with a room that smelled like nothing more than arousal and a few awkward chuckles between couples. Tonight though, the lounge had decided on something a bit more classic. With the latest noir romance being released in theaters, the public was dying for more of that sort of theme. The smell of cigarettes, or the closest approximation the bar could get without annoying any of the more sensitive nosed folk, the smooth jazz that filled the place and the live band who was currently playing it. Even the rest of the staff had gone on theme. Some of them were dressed to the nines, men and women dressed in pinstripe suits carrying some old toy tommy guns and that sort of thing. Tony himself, though he always worked shirtless, had even gone out of his way to wear some suspenders. The old draft stallion was the owner of the bar, and did so enjoy his theme nights. He had gone out of his way to gather some supplies for the cat. From costumes for him to choose from, and a new bottle of that fur glitter that somehow didn't stick after a nice warm shower. Tony wanted this night to go perfect, this was his little slice of heaven after all.

The cat was particularly fond of the name the staff had chosen for him. Abracadabra.

While his act mostly consisted of singing and occasional dancing, he also provided a few extra things the lounge customers seemed to enjoy. The occasional tarot reading after a slow show, that sort of thing. The added mysticism seemed to draw more than just the occasional gay bachelor party in.

The slender cat glanced himself up and down in the mirror. He had distinctive masculine features. That much was for certain, considering what swung between his legs, but beyond that, he was slender, lithe, with an ass that seemed to attract the eye. Something he had spent quite a few nights in the gym to get. His two most striking features, however, were his fur and his eyes. The silky smooth black fur seemed to catch the light as he moved. His eyes were what drew people in. One was the lightest silver. Like the full moon's pale light on a pond's surface. The other was amber, much like dunes of sand.

The piercings that he wore, a trio of hoops on his left ear, and a bar piercing on his right, as well as his eyebrow piercing and the one just below his bottom lip seemed to help sell the illusion of a night sky when he was fully in his get up.

He took the bottle of spray glitter, and made sure to cover every inch of himself.

As much as he hated showering thoroughly after one of his events, he couldn't deny how it drew in the eye.

According to some of the reviews of the place, the way he moved, the way he looked was almost hypnotic.

For a moment, the cat couldn't help but wonder if their words would carry if they knew what he had spent a few years of his life studying.

Anthropology.

Still, they weren't here for his brains, they were here for his body.

He still had to remember the dangers of an inflated ego. Back when he was a slightly younger man, when he still had a lot to prove to himself and others, he had considered himself invincible. His looks and his smarts could protect him from almost anyone. Then he had met the Hyena that had dragged him into the dark alley between the lounge and the apartment complex next door and had lost all of the money he had made during that night, as well as his pride.

He could still feel the tight grip of the man as he held a knife up to his throat, demanding everything he had in his wallet. Net loss? Around three hundred bucks.

The illusion that he was the king of the world? Completely and utterly shattered. As if he needed to be reminded that he had a constant pair of targets on his back.

No.

He would not fall down that spiral again. Tonight he wasn't Leo Blanco. Tonight he was Abracadabra. The hottest piece of ass on stage.

There was no point in remembering such a shit moment in his life right before he was about to go on and entertain a lounge filled with people.

He couldn't control what others did. What he could control was how he reacted to it. And his looks.

The latter was by far the easiest to control.

He set down the bottle of glitter, and pulled out the small tin of glittery orange paint, dipping a brush into it gingerly. Less was always more when it came to a color so bright and, more often than not, garish. His concept of this sort of thing was simple. He loved to walk the line between fashionable and gaudy, and it often worked for him.

He spread the oily feeling paint over his eyelid, going for a smokier look, deluding it with a bit of water here and there to make sure he could achieve the effect.

Too much and he'd look ridiculous. Like a kitten who had found his mother's makeup. Too little, and the effect would be entirely lost.

Then came a knock at the door.

"Leo! You've got a visitor!"

Came the voice of his handler. He had made the mistake of calling her his assistance once, back when he first started, and had never made that mistake again. The old sow had nearly torn off one of his ears. Besides, she didn't deserve that disrespect. After all, she had found him eating a burger with the last one dollar bill he had in his wallet and had given him this job. Something he would forever be grateful for.

The real question was, did he have time for a visitor? No, perhaps not, he was supposed to be on stage in the next thirty minutes, and he still had to dress. Still, he couldn't disappoint whoever it was waiting for him. Be them a well known patron of the lounge, or a prospective employer.

"Send them in!"

He announced, his voice sultry, liting with a purr. He got into character. Leo was typically a flirtatious guy, quick to retort to any jab with one of his own, with enough sense to back off when given the signs. But starlight, or in this case, Abracadabra was far more sultry, far more confident, and far more sexual. For that reason alone, he didn't slide on the robe that was neatly placed on his chair. Everyone in the Wise Fox Lounge knew not to bother him before a show, unless they wanted a private one. Whoever it was probably had already heard the warning.

The door slowly creaked open as he worked on his other eye. Dipping the brush in the paint, then the water.

In the mirror, he saw a dragon saunter into his dressing room. Stopping in his tracks when he noticed the bare cat.

Immediately, the golden scales seemed to turn into a sunset orange.

The man was well dressed. A pair of slacks gingerly held up by a pair of suspenders, and a pure eggshell white shirt that threatened to lose a button every time he flexed.

In his right hand, he carried a single red rose.

"Uh, nice ass, Leo."

He had to put his brush down, if he hadn't. There was a good chance he'd have smeared it all over his face trying to hold in his laughter.

His friend stood there, a hand pressed directly into his mained neck. Looking everywhere but the cat.

"Ah! Far! I am surprised that you came. I figured this place wasn't."

He motioned around himself. Turning to face his friend. Who seemed even more mortified at the sudden sight of his sheath.

"Your scene."

Calling this room a dressing room was a bit of an over statement. The actual dressing room for the rest of the staff was a luxurious place he was more welcome than not, but Tony had insisted he have his own place.

'You're one of the stars of this place. I wanna treat you right.'

It was an old storage closet the horse had converted into Leo's second home. Had gone out of his way to have the old concrete floor covered in nice vinyl, had bought a classic mirror with those yellow light bulbs, and had even brought in a couch for when he needed to relax between sets. The first time the cat had seen the room, he had nearly burst into tears. For that act of kindness, and the innumerable other acts the horse and the rest of the staff had shown him over the years, he had sworn loyalty to the Wise Fox Lounge.

The dragon made his way forward, moving to the rack of hanging costumes, most of them decidedly not safe for an all hallow's eve spent in the presence of children or temperatures below thirty. Taking in the place was a bit of an experience. It seemed so, well, ratty. Compared to how the cat usually was. The cat's place, the one he was staying in while he was trying to find his own place to lie his head, was far more well taken care of than this place. This felt far more real to the dragon, far more cosey.

Far also knew how fussy the cat was when it came to his looks, so seeing the counter absolutely covered in fur care products and paint came to absolutely no surprise to him. It honestly made him chuckle. The cat was uniquely himself and didn't care what people thought about him.

The Lounge was a surprise though. Leo had never mentioned his occasional excursions into the night. Nor did he seem particularly interested in talking about it when he came home with the distinct scent of smoke and booze.

He couldn't judge him for it, though. The dragon wasn't too keen on speaking of his own job, and the misadventures that came from it.

"It isn't. Is this really what you do at night?"

"For the most part. This job isn't exactly something I'd rely on paying all of my bills. This just supplements my needs."

His accent was thick. Spanish, if the dragon had to guess.

It was nice, not gravely, more smooth. Soft. a lot like he usually was, with just a hint of confidence backing every word.

The dragon tried his best, he really did, to avoid staring at the cat's ass. Or his hips, or the fact that he was basically flaunting what he had right in front of him. His heart was currently sitting with his talons, trying to keep beating, when he was sure he was about to have a heart attack.

Leo was pretty good looking most days. Today, though, well. If he were a woman, the word beautiful would come to mind. His fur was brushed, and trimmed to show off his stomach, while still keeping that tuft of playful fur on his chest. He was fucking sparkling.

Before the tension could resolve itself in any way for the dragon, he lifted his arm robotically, and handed the cat the bright red rose he held.

"Sure, sure. I just wanted to tell ya to break a leg!"

"That's surprisingly sweet of you, my friend."

The cat pushed off the counter, and slid his way forward, taking the flower gently. Getting close enough that the dragon could smell the scent wafting off of him. Both his natural, earth scent, and the smell of Lavender and Ginseng.

"Nah. don't read too much into it. If you'd have seen me in the crowd, you would've gotten annoyed that I didn't come and visit."

The dragon grumbled, forcing the cat to take the flower from his hands. The heat slowly made its way up, burning his face like he had dunked it in hot lava.

"Well. this is quite the interesting choice,"

He purred, moving closer to the dragon who did his best not to take a step back. This was a game the cat was playing, and he'd be damned if he let the guy win.

"In the language of flowers, red roses mean new love, love at first sight, or, a 'one and only' love.' I will say, "I am flattered."

Leo hooked a claw on Far's belt loop, putting just enough weight to lower it ever so slightly. Lifting the flower between them so they could both get a good whiff in. a difficult maneuver, considering the dragon was a full head and some change taller.

"Stop teasin', Leo. You know that shit won't work on me."

His body wasn't entirely sure of that, however. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly.

It's just been awhile since I've gotten laid. I'd pop a boner if I brushed up against a tree the wrong way.

Far reasoned with himself.

Front his close, and where he was positioned, he could see the cat's sheath. Dark black and almost inviting. For anyone into that sort of thing, of course.

The cat let out a chuckle and backed away. Shaking his head.

"Can't blame a guy for trying, eh? You're pretty good looking far."

The cat went right back to apply his makeup, as if the entire exchange hadn't happened at all.

"Honestly, I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to imbibe with my ilk."

The flustered dragon took a seat, and leaned back, forcing himself to look up at the old ceiling with a single string bulb light.

"No kiddin? This place wasn't what I thought it would be. It's honestly classy. I figured this would be a nightclub or something."

The distance between them seemed to settle Far's problem down south.

"I mean, every time I've driven past this place, there's a line of people waiting to get in. how can you stand it?"

The cat finished with the paint, and turned to his wardrobe, picking out a pair of form fitting slacks. They were tight. Maybe a bit too tight, but that seemed to be part of his appeal.

"I like having eyes on me."

Then he brushed through the rest of the wardrobe, before settling on a snow white shirt.

"Wouldn't it be easier to have an Only Furs or something?"

The cat tilted his head for a moment, buttoning up his shirt about half way, before sliding on a vest. Had he considered having sex on camera before? Of course. Money was money, even if it came in from showing his ass off. To him though, it just didn't have the same appeal of actually seeing his audience. Seeing their reactions to whatever get up he wore next. He was an artist. A bard beyond just his willingness to expose himself.

"I suppose so. To me, it feels like it would lose its appeal. As much as it is about the money, I prefer to actually entertain rather than just entice."

Reasonable enough, the dragon considered. It was something that drove him too, in his own line of work. After all, if he was just recorded during fights, he wouldn't get the same thrill of hearing people chant his name. A modern day gladiator.

Ash to ash, he knew what it was like to have an entire crowd eating from his palm as he pummeled someone into submission.

Except for one key difference. The cat never came home with bruised ribs or broken noses. Well, almost never.

The one time he had, the dragon had nearly gone out to bash some skulls in, only to be held back by his friend.

"Makes sense. You are just a bit on an attention whore. Can't be helped."

"Hmm."

As good an actor as the cat was, he couldn't hide everything. Even as he turned around and gave the dragon a withering gaze, the dragon could see the small smile breaking across his lips.

"Ah, here I was trying to be kind by inviting you to some free drinks, and a nice dinner when we went home. I suppose I'll have to retract my offer, if I am so much of an attention whore."

Leo. The drama king extraordinaire. Only in the best ways possible.

"Aw, come on, kitty, don't be like that. I was only yanking your chain."

The cat sensed yet another opportunity to mess with his friend. He finished buttoning and adjusting his outfit and made his way over, sitting on the man's lap, pulling his hand up to his waist.

"So long as you yank something else tonight, you will be forgiven."

Far was used to his games, and he knew how to win them.

He took the cat's tail in one of his massive hands, and ran it around his fingers, making the fur on his neck stand on end. He gave the singer's hip a soft squeeze.

"I could do that. But, uh, you wouldn't be going on stage tonight."

He turned up that gravel he knew the cat liked, just for a bit of flair.

Immediately, the cat shuddered, and let out a soft, almost imperceptible whine.

As soon as Leo realized what he had done, he shot out of the man's lap and made his way to the door.

"I'll, uh, hold you to it, then."

The dragon was playing a dangerous game. The cat had turned into putty in his hands with just one good move.

"Go find yourself a seat. The show's about to begin."

Much to Far's chagrin, the cat left the room.

Such a shame he isn't into men. We could have a lot of fun

The cat thought to himself, disappearing into the back halls of the lounge.

---

Holy shit.

The dragon thought to himself, as he swiftly left and locked the cat's dressing room. He could still feel the warmth of the cat's hip, it felt like a fire about to explode.

Holy shit.

Lion christ, was this what it was like to actually flirt with him back? How the hell did he look so good? Especially naked. Especially naked in a room with no one else inside.

Why the hell was he thinking like that?

Why did he want to go further?

Sure he had never gone out of his way to think about other guys. Not really. Not more than 'holy fuck that guys swole' when he went to his gym. But when he looked at the cat, when he saw how the cat seemed to sway with each step, how his tail wrapped around him when they were sitting on the sofa, well, it was appealing. He was appealing.

For more than he had ever considered.

He could almost imagine them together, imagine what it would be like to have the cat under him. Straining against his strength, moaning in pleasure as the dragon-

NOPE!

I need a drink. And a cold shower.

This was just because he hadn't been laid in weeks. That's all.

He needed a drink.

So, to erase the mental image that seemed more and more like an actual possibility, he quickly made his way to the bar.

The lounge was classy, he hadn't been exaggerating about that when he was talking with the cat. The tables were covered in thick maroon red table clothes, surrounded with black velvet chairs. They were clean, and pressed. The walls themselves were clean and decorated in historical pictures of their town, mostly from when it was founded, inlaid lights lit the main room, though tastefully, dark and cozy.

It was filled to the brim with people dressed up nicely. Mostly in suits and ties, going on with the theme of the workers here. Those that weren't looked a little out of place, but still seemed comfortable.

The bar itself was manned by a horse, a shirtless one with decent muscles, and a bow tie and suspenders. From what he had heard, he was the owner of the place, and apparently, a pretty good guy. Behind him, there were dozens of bottles of booze, displayed well.

As he approached, the horse turned his attention and gave him a knowing smile.

"You're the mysterious roommate, huh?"

The bartender asked, rubbing dry a pint glass.

"My reputation precedes me, then"

The dragon asked, sliding on one of the plush barstools.

"Oh yeah. Starlight talks about you all the time. I think he's fond of you, but ya can never tell with him."

That made sense. The cat was never the type to have his heart on his sleeve, just locked behind closed doors never to see the light of day. According to some of his harsher break ups.

"How so?"

He feigned ignorance.

"Kitty's got a sardonic way of speakin'. Naw that ain't quite right. What I'm meanin' to say is that he's hard to read. One second he's singing someone's praises and the next he's ignoring them entirely."

"Yeah, that's my Leo. confusing and frustrating to all hell."

He mumbled ruefully, before adding

"Can I get an old fashioned hoss?"

The man nodded, putting on a show for the dragon and the crowd of people just barely making their way into the bar for the show.

The horse was surprisingly dextrous. Flipping bottles over his head with the same practiced ease Farhain himself had when busting skulls in the ring. First was the bourbon, followed by the bitters, tossed in with a bit of sugar, and finally, an expertly carved orange peel. The drink itself would have been cheap, but the show, well, that added on quite the price tag.

When he tried to pull out his wallet, the horse shook his head.

"Nah man, keep your money. Leo's already said he'll cover your tab. Course, I wouldn't charge ya anyways. A friend of his is a friend of mine."

Remember to thank the cat after all this is over.

He thought to himself, giving his thanks to the horse.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and gentile folk! Thank you all for coming out this fine night, we here at the black cat appreciate your patronage. Now, if you could all turn your attention to the stage, we have our first act of the night. Our very own Abracadabra!"

Then the house lights dimmed.

Then the stage lights brightened.

Then the cat walked on stage.

Beautiful.

Leo, now Abracadabra, walked out as soon as the announcer was done speaking.

Immediately a hush fell over the usually noisy bar.

A small gasp emanated from a man in the front of the row, a rather cute pine marten. He gave him a quick wink, before strutting his way further on stage. He felt all of their eyes focused solely on him, on his get up. The way those slacks hugged his hips intimately. The way the blazer didn't clash, but complimented his fur, the way his vest and shirt were buttoned only to the two bottom buttons to show off the fluffy chest he had worked to get.

He hoped, no, he knew he must have been quite the sight considering both men and women were focused solely on his appearance. Exotic was the word most used, but only one man had ever come close to using a word he liked.

That man was Farhain, that word was Beautiful.

Okay, cat, get your shit together and give them the best act you've ever done.

A mantra he had held on to since the first performance he had ever had, back in his highschool choir.

Once he was at the mic, he sensually stripped himself free of the blazer, tossing it off stage to one of the stage hands watching the show. A scripted act, of course.

His sleeves were rolled up, giving him that sort of friendly look he tried so hard to go for every time he was on stage.

He strived for comfort, for lust, not for the feeling of intangibility. he didn't want his crowd to feel like he was untouchable. He wanted the crowd to feel like they were home. Like they were somewhere safe and warm. Somewhere they could let loose their desires.

Even if he was only interested in the men of the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight! I see quite a few new faces!"

He called out, his accent a bit heavier than usual.

The crowd watched him silently, and he couldn't help but chuckle. A warm, soft chuckle echoing through the lounge.

"I see a cat has stolen all your tongues."

A few chuckles followed. He wasn't above making fun of himself.

The band behind him finished their final set ups, surrounding him. All of them knew the program for the night, and had practiced for weeks to get that classic jazz sound.

"I won't keep you waiting any longer."

He said, before the piano player, one hidden by the stage curtains started the first notes of "fly me to the moon" followed by the rest of the band.

Usually, when he was singing, he tried to go for an energetic mood, but considering the decorations for the night, and the way the entire place seemed to be in that hushed haze, he figured something less abrasive was needed. Something soft, something sweet.

So he started singing in that long mellifluous baritone. A euphoric sound. Rich in both the pleasure of being out tonight, and the joy of singing entirely.

Soon, the song was the only sound in the bar,

Farhain leaned forward into performance, paying no attention to the world around him. Why would he? When nothing else seemed to hold the same splendor.

Then he danced, hands moving slowly down his body, languidly, lavisciously. As if the simple pleasure of eyes on his body were enough. Maybe to him, it was.

He suddenly felt a pang of jealousy.

This wasn't what it felt like for him. It wasn't joy, or music that brought people to his shows. It wasn't even lust. No. it was bloodlust.

A modern day gladiator was what he was.

Maybe not in name, but names rarely did matter.

He remembered his last combat. The last time he had stepped into the ring.

Even in this warm environment, he felt the chill of the ac, and his own nerves sliding down his spine.

He remembered the steps leading up to the make-shift arena, the glint of the repurposed stage lights shining bright off his scales.

The feeling of the crowd going wild, cheering him on. Egging him on. They wanted blood. They wanted to see the carnage his people were not only capable of, but what he was capable of.

He tried to let the memory fade, but it was determined to stay right in the forefront of his mind. The feeling of the baseball bat in his hand, the way it felt. He hated to say it, but it felt amazing. The way his arms hurt when it connected with something, the way the blood flew every time he hit someone in the mouth.

It was maddening how much he enjoyed the fight. How much he enjoyed the scent of blood in the air. It was better than sex, really. The never ending battles.

But the aftermath was rarely worth the time spent. Most of the time, he left with bruised ribs, cuts, scratches.

The worst of 'em was the time he had walked back in the freezing cold with three broken ribs, and a fractured tibia. Leo had managed to pull together enough cash to get him treated mostly, but still. He hadn't realized how fucked up he had been until he had fell down face first on the couch and nearly cried.

Farhain knew that if he hadn't, he'd likely be face down in a ditch somewhere.

Someone knocked him out of his train of thought.

That horse, with another old fashioned in hand.

"Drink up. You look like you need it."

"Thanks Hoss."

Wordlessly, the dragon took the drink and sipped it. Damn horse made 'em good and strong.

"Not to be a dick, but you're kinda scaring off my customers with that look of yours. What's got your tail in a twist."

Fuck, was he?

Considering there were about three guys trying to get his attention from across the room, he was.

The dragon's tail had almost knocked over a stool when he realized.

"Fuck, my bad."

He said, trying to paint on a smile. It seemed to work, cause the three guys did make their way over.

"No offense, but, you're a bartender, not a therapist."

"Damn straight"

he snorted poignantly at one of the three men at the bar. The bear blushed and looked away. If he was a gossip like the cat, he would have asked, but so far as he was concerned, it was none of his.

"But, a friend of Leo's a friend of mine, and I've been told I'm a damn good listener."

Farhain figured it wouldn't hurt to put the thoughts out there. Chances were, the horse already knew what he was from the moment he walked in. bartenders were damn good judges of character, and more so, he was a fighter, he had a certain walk. Leo had said it was a walk that carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Others had said he had resting bitch face. Whatever it was, it fended people off.

"Guess It's just weird. We're on two different spectrums. Leo gets cheered on for all, and I get cheered on for.."

The dragon didn't say much else.

"Hurting people?"

The stallion asked.

"How'd ya tell?"

He let out a soft whiny.

"People wear their hearts on their sleeves. Whether they realize it or not. Sometimes it's in the way they sit, sometimes it's the looks they give their friends. Sometimes it's just in the way they feel. You, kiddo, feel like you're one step from the grave"

The horse had his number completely.

"You shoulda been a detective."

Tony chuckled, leaning back against the counter,

"Naw. I'm just another asshole with a pair of good eyes."

The pair of men glanced back at the cat, who had just picked up the next song. Moon river.

Being a softer song, Leo had made sure to follow its tempo. His voice much softer than his riffs on fly me to the moon. He swayed along to the soft music, staring not at the crowd, but at the dragon.

"Look. I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you everythings going to turn up aces. Chances are, it probably won't. But you seem like the tough sort. Just focus on the good, and let the bad wash off your shoulders. It's harder than I make it sound, but it's how I survived the 90s."

Not the best advice, but not the worst either.

"And for fucks sake. Ask the cat out. You've been drooling since he got on stage."

This song.

He knew this song, of course he did.

Leo sang this song constantly.Every time he knew the dragon had a shit night. Everytime the cat spent time patching the dragon up, he sang the song. It was sort of a ritual for them.

This time, though. Was much more meaningful to him. He was sure no one else understood what it meant to the two of them.

Fucking cat.

After a few more songs, ending strong on Moonlight Serenade. His voice echoing throughout the halls with his vibrato. The cat was finally released from his duties.

"I hate to leave you all, my friends, but as all good things do, my time has come to an end. From the bottom of this little old heart of mine, thank you for coming out to see a silly cat sing his heart out!"

Cheers of encore, and the general cacophony filled the small lounge as the cat disappeared behind the stage, to a small crowd of ecstatic staff members.

"You did great starlight!"

Came the voice of the sow, giving him one big tight hug.

"Thank you. I think this was one of my best performances yet!"

He chirped happily. Though he knew why it was one of his best. Far was in the audience. This had to be the best performance of his life, just to make sure the dragon knew-

Well he wasn't sure what he wanted the dragon to know. He just wanted to make it memorable.

"If this is you at your best, your worst must be out of this world."

Far Beamed, approaching the gaggle of gays.

"Best believe it."

The cat purred, adjusting the flower that Far had given him in his breast pocket.

The sow quietly gathered the rest of his entourage, leaving them both on their own, right outside the stage.

Neither really knew what to say, or what to do.

So the dragon moved first.

He wrapped his arms around the cat, pulling him close against his chest.

Leo immediately stiffened, before forcing himself to relax.

His heart was beating in his ears.

They had done these sorts of things before. The dragon was a physically affectionate person after all, but this felt different.

"I'm sure you thought you were being slick, singing that song."

"No. I knew you would know its meaning."

That made the dragon smile, in spite of himself.

"You hopeless fucking romantic. Come on. Let's go home."

So the pair did exactly that.