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The pale amber glow of the morning sun became a muted white-grey as it shone through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and diffused throughout the semi-transparent blinds that covered them. Its scale-warming heat was lost between the double glazing and the powerful air-conditioning system that breathed perfectly adjusted and filtered air throughout the penthouse. Opening his eyes without moving any other part of his body, Meegi began to focus on the room around him as he lay semi-submerged in the impossibly soft, pillow-like mattress. It was easy to imagine that he was floating, as the bed cradled his tan-scaled body and supported his form evenly in a way that was likely perfectly designed for optimal sleep. The price of this level of luxury wasn't lost on the drake, and he knew better than to ask how much such things cost. Although the softness was heavenly to sleep in, Meegi felt a hint of longing for his bed back home. It was far simpler, firmer, and squeaked whenever he got up, but it carried with it the scents of home compared to the rigorously washed and changed covers that Tiiphani’s family had chosen for their guest room’s bed.

Blinking slowly while uncoiling his tail from his forepaws, the drake unfurled and stretched out on his side into more of a sprawl, letting a wing relax across the top of the mattress. Slowly, the room came into focus and he scanned it for anything that had changed while he was asleep. Although the space was made up for guests, Meegi felt as if Tiiphani's family had spent just as much, if not more, time decorating this room to flaunt their wealth. The bedroom was situated on the corner of the north- and east-facing sides of the building, with two walls made of nothing but crystal-clear glass and an equally transparent door that led out onto the marble-tiled balcony beyond. The view from the hundred and forty-second floor was one that was exclusive to only Tiiphani's family and guests, and was something that Meegi never tired of, but was currently denied by the grey blinds that covered the windows. The walls separating the room from the rest of the penthouse were decorated with an assortment of stylised, modern, and cold-feeling sculptures and vases. Each one was less practical than the last, with a small plaque beside them to advertise who the artist was and what part of the world the family had collected them from. It was the level of ostentatiousness that Meegi had come to expect from Tiiphani and her family, especially given her mother's passion for trading and collecting priceless pieces of art and trinkets from across the globe. The dragoness seemed to be almost permanently absent as she travelled from continent to continent, only to return with stories of local museums she had liberated pieces from with the help of her mate's chequebook. According to Tiiphani's father, Haanith, the deals rarely turned a profit, but he enabled her purchases as it made her happy and, in his joking words, made her one less worry to deal with.

Understanding the importance of the pieces to Tiiphani's mother, Meegi had taken the opportunity to memorise the details of each artifact in the guest room and living room, just so he was armed with information should a situation arise when talking to the dragoness. Having climbed the social ranks on scholarships and talent rather than with money, he made an effort to blend in with the others and not appear too obviously poor. Of course, Tiiphani and her family were aware that he didn't come from the same level of wealth, and he still remembered their looks of pity when he had revealed that shame to them. Tiiphani's mother had seemed more grounded than Tiiphani or her mate, offering remarks of compassion. Haanith had taken a moment but seemed almost pleased with Meegi being of a much lower financial standing than their family, while Tiiphani had almost felt cold for the rest of the evening. Thankfully, the days afterwards had slowly turned Tiiphani's mood around, and by the end of the week and a few days together, they were sharing laughs again.

With a deep inhale to wake further, Meegi listened for any sounds in the rest of the penthouse to try and gauge if the others had risen or not. Tiiphani's father had seemed somewhat strange when he had invited Meegi to spend the night in their penthouse. Usually it had been Tiiphani who asked her father, but this time, the large drake had ambushed him a week prior while he had been leaving one of the penthouse’s restrooms. At first Meegi had been flustered to see the heavy-set and imposing red drake waiting for him in the hallway and had initially chalked up his strange tone purely to the impromptu interaction. However, today wasn't a day like any other. Not only was it his eighteenth hatchday, but it was also a critical training session for the Coastal Cresties. A dragonball team owned by Haanith, they were world class, and after a few weeks’ rest following the last season, the team was scheduled to reunite for their first training session. The previous season had seen them lose in the grand final by only three points. Despite the opinions of the Cresties fans believing the referees were too critical of the players, the Cresties had ultimately lost the championship. Regardless how the players might feel that they were cheated, it was up to them, the coaches and trainers, to elevate their game and win the coming season.

For Meegi, dragonball was everything. Even before he could fly, he would often stay up at night, sitting inches away from the television watching the brutal sport. At that age, he should have been in bed, but watching the game had become almost a ritual every Friday night. He would stay up and watch the game until he heard the beating of his mother's wings, then rush to bed to pretend to be asleep. Depending on whether his mother had to stay late or return early meant that some nights he would get to watch the entirety of the game and the coveted player interviews, or rush to bed before he was caught and imagine the rest of the game in his dreams. Even before meeting Tiiphani, or learning that her father owned one of the most prestigious teams in the sport, Meegi had always been a Cresties fan, and the crimson flag that hung in his bedroom was by far his most prized possession.

Once he could fly on his own two wings, he had thrown himself into the sport and the training that the athletes underwent. From flight exercises to diet to studying tactics, Meegi had become obsessed with everything dragonball. Seeing his passion, his mother had managed to get him into a junior-level club a year before he was technically old enough to sign on. The weekend games and midweek training sessions served as a convenient way for him to be supervised for a few hours while she had to work, and he cherished the few moments when she had a chance to watch him play. It hadn't taken Meegi long to rise to the top of the ranks at the junior level, and when he had been offered a scholarship to the prestigious Liberty Scales High Private School, where some of the greatest Cresties players came from, he had leapt at the opportunity.

Since beginning his relationship with Tiiphani, and graduating from high school, Meegi had been taken under the wing of Tiiphani's father, and thrust into the midst of the Cresties’ support detail. It was a dream come true for the young drake, and while it was still a far cry from playing for the Cresties at a rookie level, just being close to the players and helping them train was a reward in itself. His duties varied, but he didn't care if it was running an errand for one of the players practising, setting up the training equipment, or refilling the drinking troughs; every job was done with his full commitment and focus. Out of all the activities, by far his favourite duty was being an “egg fetcher.” During practice and games, it was common for countless white ovoid-shaped balls to be dropped by players or sent out of bounds when a player was tackled out of the sky. Therefore, someone was always needed to collect the errant balls and return them to the loading chutes, or during some exercises, return them to the players themselves if they were practising passing drills. It had been a surreal experience the first time he had passed a ball to the players he once admired from the distance of a television set, and one that still made him somewhat giddy. All of the players knew why he was there, of course, being close to the owner of the team's daughter, but other than a few knowing smirks, none seemed to care.

Being in a relationship with Tiiphani sure did have its perks, Meegi thought to himself as he stretched out further on the large bed. Overall, the crimson dragoness wasn't a bad person to be around, and the majority of their dates had at some point included them making out somewhere secluded, which always made his blood run hot. The memory of their latest steamy exchange on the rooftop of the penthouse caused Meegi's slit to tighten and his hind legs to adjust of their own accord. It had been just after her own hatchday, and the dragoness had managed to spirit away a bottle of fruity liquor to be divided amongst her friends' drink pouches, which had left her quite intoxicated and very affectionate. Despite her suggestion—or rather, insistent demand—he had remained a gentledrake. Not only because she was under the influence, but because while she had turned eighteen, he hadn't. Although they had been dating for some time and there were plenty of legal protections in place for a couple like them, he had seen many Dragonball players' careers tarnished by skeletons in their past, and he didn't want to make a mistake that might come back to haunt him. However, today marked the day where such hesitations were no longer necessary.

Breathing in through his nose, he took in the clean scents of the room once more before slowly letting out a long, luxurious yawn that had him open his jaws so wide his chin touched the covers, followed by smacking his lips. Lifting his head up a foot from where it had been resting, Meegi turned his neck to scan the room completely and double-check his surroundings with more clarity. A part of him was still waiting for someone to wake him from this dream, or a host of some television show to open the door and announce that he had been the victim of some elaborate prank that had been going on for months. It was a constant cloud that hung over his consciousness, with the only reprieve being when he spread his wings. Ultimately, he was only where he was because of his abilities in the sky and his dedication to honing his body and mind to become a star athlete. While he may feel clumsy and out of place at a fancy restaurant where he couldn't pronounce half the items on the menu, once he was in the sky, that was where he felt confident in his own scales. The only place where he found himself coming short while flying, was when he shadowed the Cresties in their training. He comforted himself with the knowledge that they were, of course, older, well-trained, and professional athletes. By training along side them, he tried to learn as much as he could and he hoped that one day he would be good enough to play at their level.

Rolling over onto his front, Meegi took care not to sink his claws into the soft bed as he pulled himself closer towards the edge. Using only his forepaws, he let his hind legs drag out behind him, and the gentle friction of the sheets against his scales offered a small resistance that helped stretch his muscles. Looking towards the eastern side of the room, Meegi stared at the closed blinds in contemplation. He enjoyed the view from the penthouse; the sense of looking down from such an elevated position triggered something ancient in his young mind. It wasn't a feeling of dominance, where he was an ancient dragon surveying his domain, but instead gave Meegi a strange sense of security. It was odd, but it felt as if no one was looking over his shoulder, no one was looking at him, and he was literally above the troubles of the world. Additionally, from the guest room of Tiiphani's parents' home, Meegi was able to get a glimpse of a school friend’s home and a look at a future that could have been if things had gone differently.

The distance between the comfort of the perfectly designed bed and the small switch on the wall near the blinds felt as though it stretched on forever. It was an incredibly small inconvenience to pay to take in the view, yet Meegi found himself unwilling to take the step out of the cradling hold of the soft bed to reach out and touch the functional switch. Staring at the sleek piano-black button with a sense of longing, Meegi refocused his mind on the sounds of the apartment and made sure he couldn't hear anyone stirring before closing his eyes. Like an old toy left in the corner of his bedroom, his gifts lay ignored in the background of his mind. Yet as he brushed his consciousness across the memories and restrained power, he felt his magic pulse to life as if it had never been hidden from the world.

Dragonball, like many other competitive activities, forbade not only the use of magic but any dragon that could wield the ‘unnatural’ power. Despite the incredible powers shown in movies and television shows, where draconic characters were depicted overwhelming heroes on a whim or possessing the minds of damsels while throwing cars with their minds at innocent bystanders, the extent of draconic magic was often more mundane; limited to small feats of telekinesis which often taxed the dragon's body more than it would have cost to perform the same task with a paw. There were still sports for gifted dragons to challenge themselves, such as solving puzzle-like cubes in the shortest amount of time, or competing against one another to see how heavy an object they could lift with their minds. However, the abstract nature and rarity of their unusual talents made the sport of power lifting more of a circus show than a recognised sport.

Meegi knew that if he was discovered to have the ability to use magic, his Dragonball career would be over before it had begun. It wouldn't matter if he was mated to the owner's daughter, as the officials of the sport would simply ban him as a risk to the sport's reputation. Even though it required a significant amount of mental control to perform anything helpful and was near impossible to use while focusing on the game, any goals scored by a player who could wield magic would be forever viewed through the lens that they might not have been genuine and that they had somehow cheated. It was a rule that was taken seriously at all levels, and Meegi had seen players at junior levels dismissed when they had accidentally shown signs of being able use magic in fits of anger.

In the calm of Tiiphani's home, with nothing but the gentle hum of the air-conditioner, Meegi was able to focus his attention on the small flat switch. With his eyes closed, he could feel its presence on the smooth wall like a cracked scale on an otherwise flush hide. He found it with a tendril of consciousness and applied a gentle pressure. The click sound made a smirk form on the drake's snout, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the blinds begin to retract. His prideful smile vanished as quickly as his mind relaxed its hold on the button, and a chill of shame washed over him. To avoid the effort of leaving his comfortable bed and taking three steps, he had risked his entire future. Any tiredness in his body vanished as a surge of adrenaline rushed through him, not enough for him to get to his feet, but enough for him to whip his head around to confirm once more that he was alone and that no one had seen what he had done. Listening closely again, he tried to ignore the soft whirring of the blinds’ motor retracting the screens and focused intently on any sounds from the penthouse. Thankfully, there was still no movement to be heard, but that did little to soothe his mind after this piece of recklessness.

Only when the blinds had lifted halfway and he felt the warmth of the morning sun against his paws did he turn back around and direct his attention to the view. The absurdity of his altitude quickly distracted his mind from his risky use of magic, and his eyes became fixated on the city skyline that swept across the land like a blanket of complex geometric grey and orange shapes.

Nothing compared to the height and grandeur of The Spires; the cluster of four needle-like buildings pierced upward into the sky in a way that seemed to defy physics. Each one of the tall structures dwarfed the surrounding buildings and towered above the city like staggered pillars of glass and steel. Built in a diamond pattern, each of the separate spires was shaped differently and built to different heights. Arranged to match the cardinal directions of the city, the north spire was the tallest by almost a quarter. Its unique design and unparalleled height worked well to offer a point of reference for the many humans and dragons that lived in the city of Liberty Scales.

This morning, a patchy fog had settled across the city, blocking out entire swaths of buildings while other structures protruded their topmost floors through the pale blanket. The spectacle would likely be gone in a few hours’ time as the sun rose and its warm rays burned through the moisture. Meegi doubted he would ever get tired of the view, and although he had flown higher on many occasions, there was something surreal about standing on solid ground while watching the world so far below. Compared to the two-story building he called home, the penthouse felt almost otherworldly. With its perfectly balanced climate and humidity, lack of wind, and every aspect of its environment controlled to a fraction of a degree, he could have easily pretended that he was on an alien spaceship.

Meegi's eyes began to drift away from the horizon and toward the top of the eastern spire. Shifting closer to the edge of the bed, he lifted his neck higher to try and get an angle to look down toward the middle floors. He still remembered being partnered with Reeva for one of their final assignments; the sea-green-coloured ’ness had been a great partner and someone he had genuinely enjoyed being around. Compared to the rest of their classmates, she acted the most down-to-earth, which he felt was only natural, as her family seemed to come from new money rather than the intergenerational wealth that so many of his peers came from. Spotting her family's apartment wasn’t hard; while many of the balconies were littered with outdoor furniture, cushions, and the occasional harness hung over the hand railings to dry, Reeva's father had decorated their balcony with an almost absurd amount of green plants.

Sitting up onto his haunches so he didn’t have to crane his neck as much, Meegi looked down at the green balcony and reminisced about the fleeting time he had spent with the dragoness. While he had needed to uphold the illusion of fitting in in school and even now, around her, he had felt he could actually be himself. After their assignment together, he had considered asking her out under the excuse of celebrating an assignment well done. However, before he had gotten a chance, Tiiphani had approached him and expressed her infatuation with him, something that had initially caught him by surprise. The idea of having such an attractive dragoness figuratively press herself onto him had wiped away any thoughts of catching up with Reeva. He had still considered asking her out to celebrate; after all, they had worked hard to secure their grade, but in the days that followed, Reeva had come across as almost cold toward him, and the opportunity never presented itself.

Watching on, Meegi's heart skipped a beat as he saw the door to Reeva's balcony slide open and the dragoness herself walk out. With her crimson frill falling limply to one side of her neck, she turned around to close the door with her snout and then made her way toward the heavy-set table that had been placed against the edge of the handrail. Due to building regulations designed for humans more than dragons, almost every one of the apartments sported hand railings to protect unwinged beings from falling, much to the inconvenience of winged dragons who would prefer to use their balcony as a personal landing pad. Many had come up with their own alternatives to take off from their balcony, including Reeva's family, and Meegi watched as she stepped up onto the table and shook her wings to unfurl them. In doing so, Meegi noticed that her harness now sported extra pouches and two black tube-like compartments on her back for storing posters or something else that shouldn’t be folded. Likely heading to college, a pang of self-loathing flared in Meegi's mind as he knew that he should be doing the same. Having applied for countless scholarships and managing to interview for a dozen, he had ultimately been unsuccessful. Despite the savings his mother had accrued and the money he had put aside from working at the cafe, he was still tens of thousands of dollars short, and the idea of going into so much debt when he didn’t know what he wanted to do if Dragonball didn’t work out had left him in a stall. Not that the lack of a degree or direction had bothered Tiiphani's father, who had offered him a job in the Cresties' support detail, and Meegi told himself that he didn't need a degree now that he had a job that paid quite well. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was risking everything in a relationship that could easily change at the whim of Tiiphani.

Meegi’s ear twitched and flicked backward as he heard a slow tapping from behind him. In the otherwise silent penthouse, the sound was almost overloud, and he whipped his head around to look toward the door. The unmistakable sound of talons against marble heralded the arrival of someone approaching his room, even if the pace of the steps suggested they were trying to sneak toward him. With a quick glance down, Meegi made sure that he was decent and momentarily contemplated laying back down on the soft bed and pretending to be asleep. However, if Tiiphani or one of her parents were checking up on him, the fear of appearing lazy and indolent compelled him to stay seated on his haunches. Watching the door, he waited as the footsteps came to a halt just outside before the sleek brushed aluminium door handle began to turn. He hadn’t locked the door, as it didn’t feel polite; this was their home after all, and they had been very generous to offer it to him for the evening so that he didn’t have to fly as far to the training practice. Now, he watched as the handle cautiously turned until the latch clicked and the door was pushed open a foot.

The soft crimson snout that peeked into his room brought a smile to Meegi's snout before the rest of Tiiphani's face was visible. Pushing past the door while keeping it as closed as possible, the dragoness’ eyes lit up when she saw him awake, and she quickly moved to close the door behind her. “You're awake, hatchday drake,” she said in a hushed, whisper-like giggle while pressing the door closed with her tail. With a delicate swish under the handle with her tail tip, she locked the door and then bounded over to Meegi's bed, launching herself onto the soft mattress.

“What are you–” Meegi started but was cut off when the dragoness mashed her open maw into his in a passionate kiss. Her tongue and mouth tasted like spearmint as she pressed into him and continued to apply pressure until he fell backwards and flopped down onto his back. Tucking his wings tight against his sides, he groaned into her maw in surprise as she stepped over him and straddled his body before laying down atop him. Her body felt like silk against his; while he kept his scales clean, smooth, and gave them a weekly polish, hers were tended to almost daily by a team of salon technicians. Each visit seemed to go on for hours and cost a fortune of her father's money, but the results spoke for themselves. Her scarlet scales had a depth to their colour that was unparalleled, other than on the models seen in magazines. Depending on how the light hit them, they could appear as a deep cherry black or glitter like moving fire when she shifted. It was an incredible effect, and one that he knew wasn’t completely natural, but he didn’t care. Contrasting her brilliant red scales were twin ivory-white horns that curled backwards from behind her skull and swept downwards. Being longer than most her age, Meegi knew they were extensions, and out of the range of fake horns she owned, he liked these the most. The downward sweep gave her an almost permanent meek expression, which made his heart beat faster and his loins stir.

“It's your hatchday!” Tiiphani exclaimed after breaking their kiss and keeping her voice an excited hushed whisper. “How does it feel?” she added, grinning from horn to horn. Without noticing, Meegi's paws had already found their way to the dragoness' shoulders and were stroking her impossibly smooth scales absentmindedly.

“Feels like yesterday,” Meegi admitted with a grin and curled his neck to nuzzle the side of his snout against hers. “It doesn't feel any different really,” he added before giving her a tender lick on her cheek.

“Told ya!” Tiiphani crowed with a giggle and rocked her hips from side to side against his. The smooth friction of her body against his privates stole his breath and made the dragoness’ smile broaden further. “So, what's the plan for your big day?” she asked, even though they had gone over it the night prior.

“Well, it starts with breakfast,” Meegi smirked and adjusted his neck so that it was buried into the cushion-like mattress and was supporting so he could look at the crimson dragoness more comfortably. “Then I'm training with the Cresties,” he explained, punctuating his sentence with a small affectionate kiss on the tip of her snout. “I've got that lunch thing with my mom, and then I'm all yours,” he added and brushed the side of her tail with his.

“So I'm still last, am I?” she whined and pouted dramatically, making him smirk and dote another kiss on the bridge of her snout. They had gone over the plan, and at the time he had felt bad for wanting to help the Cresties train and had briefly offered to skip training so he could spend more time with her. The moment he had said it, he regretted it, but thankfully her father stepped in and was very insistent on him attending the training session. Spending the day training with the Cresties was a hatchday present he and most of his friends would have dreamed about, and even though he did it every other day, the appeal had hardly tarnished.

“I’m sorry, but the team needs me,” he said with a small chuckle that made the corner of Tiiphani's lips twitch in a smirk. “And I can't bail on my mom. She is working tonight, and lunch at McDonald's is kind of a thing we always do,” Meegi explained while extending his forepaws around her shoulders. Holding her close, he coiled his tail around hers and hooked his hind paws around her tail base to snuggle her against him.

“McDonald's… really? I couldn't think of anywhere worse,” Tiiphani protested and lifted her head up from his to look down at him. “Why not somewhere nice? Somewhere where the floor isn't… bleh,” she added a mock dry retch to emphasize her point. Her overdramatic reaction made Meegi snort in amusement and lean his neck forward to nuzzle her softly.

“Oh, it's not that bad. Besides, how about we go somewhere nice for dinner,” he replied warmly and tried to distract her with a tender kiss to the side of her snout. Ever since he had been a hatchling, his mother had taken him to the fast food restaurant. When he was small, the experience had been almost magical, and he cherished the memories of navigating the hard plastic play equipment with the other children. Every year it had become a ritual, where he and his friends would spend the afternoon eating fast food and gallivanting around the restaurant. Only when he had started attending the prestigious Liberty Scales High did he forgo inviting his new friends and instead make it a special day between him and his mother. He understood now that the parties he had enjoyed as a child were done on a budget, but he didn't care, and the knowledge made him love the experiences even more. Now that he was earning a decent amount of money from working with the Cresties, he had planned to treat his mother. Although Tiiphani's family could likely get them a table somewhere more prestigious, he felt there was something poetic about continuing the ritual but paying for them both for the first time. It was as if it was a small symbol of becoming an adult, or completing a rite of passage he had concocted in his mind. Either way, it was something that he knew Tiiphani would never understand, so he avoided the subject.

“Or what if we went somewhere nice for breakfast? Just you and me?” Meegi suggested and cocked his head as she hummed in thought. “I know a good little café, although I think they are a little short staffed,” he added with a growing smile that hesitated when she groaned.

“Nooo, our first dozen dates were at that crappy place–”

“I was working!” Meegi laughed and stroked his paw up her neck. “And it's not crappy! You said you liked it!” he added before lowering his voice. “If I remember correctly, you said it was quite quaint,” he retorted as she rolled her sun-yellow coloured eyes.

“Meegi, quaint is the polite way to say crappy. Your boss was there and I was trying to be nice,” Tiiphani replied while shaking her head in disapproval. “But like, who paints their walls orange? Tacky much! And then there was that creep in the corner all the time.”

“Hey now, Geevin is a regular.”

“Regular creep,” Tiiphani scoffed with a smirk before nuzzling Meegi. Her affection quelled his frustration, and before he knew it, Meegi was leaning into her more. “No cafe please. Besides, Father wants you to join him for breakfast. He doesn't want you out of his sight. This training thing has him all worked up, and I think he would lose his shit if we were late.”

“Then after lunch, just you and me, we will go somewhere nice. Maybe check out that fancy mall on the north side, what was it called?” Meegi offered, tilting his head to gauge her reaction. He knew its name, as she had mentioned it a few times now and he had taken the hint, yet he knew that she liked to be the one taking the lead, and instead he chose to play coy. Heading to a mall made up almost exclusively of designer brands wasn’t really something he had wanted to do on his hatchday, especially after a training session, but it would keep her happy and pass the time.

“The Venuti? Really?” Tiiphani replied with a hopefulness in her voice while coiling her neck back to lift her head away from him. “Alright, after you've had your gross McDonald's with your mom. I'll meet you somewhere and we will go to the mall. But can you promise not to be weird about everything? I really want to check out what's in Caatiar’s without getting kicked out,” she added and tilted her head slightly to give him a knowing look when he went to reply.

Her expression halted his rebuttal and he chuckled in understanding. Looking at the price tags had become second nature while growing up, and when he had visited a designer store and seen a sleek black harness on display, he had been shocked by the astronomical price tag. At first he had thought it was some sort of stock number or barcode, as it had been missing the dollar sign, but when he asked for its price, he hadn't been graceful in his reaction. Even more so when he learned that the figure was simply for the set of polished gold buckles that the tag hung from, and not for the harness itself. He had spiralled in his conversation with Tiiphani at its ridiculousness, especially as the gold wasn't even a suitable metal for harness buckles. The whole time the dragoness had almost looked ashamed to be with him, and for a moment she had seen the poor dragon for what he truly was.

“Okay, done. The Venuti it is,” Meegi confirmed and leaned his neck forward so that he could seal the deal with a kiss. Spending the afternoon at a mall with Tiiphani was a small price to pay for being able to have lunch alone with his mother. Tiiphani and his mother had met on multiple occasions; however, Meegi felt that he couldn't relax around them both, even more so on the rare occasions when Tiiphani's parents had been present as well. Having Tiiphani's parents asking pointed yet polite questions of his mother had highlighted their differences, and while his mother had been as graceful as possible, Meegi could tell that she was as uncomfortable as he was and had retreated to a level of politeness that he recognised from when she was serving a particularly pretentious table at her work.

“Maybe we could get you some extensions for this little mane of yours,” Tiiphani smiled as she curled her forepaw under his neck and combed her digits through fur that had begun to grow down the top of his neck. During high school, it had wanted to grow patchy and thin, which he had then chosen to trim close to his scales to keep it hidden. Now that he had been spending alternate nights at Tiiphani's and his home, he had lost track of clipping it, and it had begun to grow in a more refined line that started between his horns and ran down to his shoulders.

“I don't know what I'm going to do with it, to be honest. I think if I let it go it might look a bit too horsey,” Meegi replied honestly and grinned as Tiiphani giggled. “But not having to clip it every weekend is kinda nice,” he mused, his voice hitching as the dragoness rolled her hips from side to side against his.

“I don't think it will look that bad, but we could always get some extensions and then get them to cut it back to a length you like,” Tiiphani said while lowering her snout into the crook of his jaw and gently nibbling at his throat. “You could also get it dyed, make it a different colour if you wanted. Maybe white?” she offered as she moved her forepaws to beside his shoulders and tightened her tail around his. “Just don't gel it up like a mohawk. Father won't like that.”

He already felt as if he didn't fit in with her parents, and the image of him with a spiky fan of coloured hair at the polished marble breakfast bar made him snort in amusement. “No, I don't think he would like that,” Meegi mused and adjusted his hips under her. The silky polished scales of Tiiphani's lower belly against his felt incredible, and it was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the tension in his slit.

His movement didn't go unnoticed by the dragoness, who smiled a mischievous smirk and ground her vent against him in a slow forwards-and-back rocking motion. “Speaking of things father wouldn't like…” she mused and looked him in the eyes. “I wanted to give you your hatchday present first,” she added, making Meegi's heart skip a beat and his paws tighten around her shoulders.

“…oh?” Meegi replied clumsily, and he mirrored her movement as she relaxed her tail. Humming in acknowledgement, Tiiphani nuzzled her snout under his chin and playfully nipped the scales on his throat. The sharp pinch made his body jolt and his heart beat faster. Relaxing his grip on her shoulders as she lifted herself an inch off his body, Meegi let his paws roam down her shoulders as she traced more gentle bites down his neck and onto the powerful flight muscles that wrapped his chest.

“You just relax, let me take care of my drake,” she murmured with more focus in her voice than he had expected. Her usual bossy and demanding demeanor slipped for a fraction of a second, giving way to a hint of nervousness and uncertainty. For that brief moment, Meegi felt as if he was seeing the real Tiiphani as she tried to hold his gaze but failed and instead looked down between them. Tilting his head down to watch as she moved down his body, his eyes widened in understanding as she swallowed deeply and continued to back up until she was about to straddle his tail.

“Hold on,” Meegi murmured, his words compressed with excitement and nervousness. Using his folded wings, he shimmed up the depression of the soft, nest-like mattress so that he was sitting more upright and able to watch more easily. Leaning back, Meegi felt somewhat awkward to see her lie down on his tail and bracket his hips with her forepaws. He felt as if he should be doing something, stroking her, nuzzling her or something else. Instead, he felt his snout burn as he lay back and enjoyed the view of the crimson dragoness tilting her snout down toward his groin.

In some remnant of modesty, the muscles holding his vent closed fought valiantly against the internal pressure of his arousal. The result was a noticeable bulge from within his vent, pressing up until the normally discrete line of his slit became more pronounced, visible and rosé-coloured. What fragile control he had was tested further as Tiiphani shifted her weight to her elbows and placed her forepaws on either side of the firm slit, then stroked a digit from top to bottom. Releasing the breath he hadn't known he had been holding, Meegi groaned in arousal and bucked his hips up into her grip. The motion and her delicate pressure caused his tip to crown, and then, as if breaching his own defenses, the rest of his shaft began to emerge. His length grew quickly to attention, parting his slit wide as it continued to emerge. Throbbing with the beat of his racing heart, his shaft first grew while resting against his belly scales, before becoming plump and firm, lifting of its own accord to lance out and hang above his belly.

Meegi glanced between his shaft and Tiiphani's face to try to gauge her reaction, and the look of surprise in her eyes bolstered his confidence. When she recoiled her neck back only so she could extend it again to one side and look at him from another angle, he couldn't help but smile to himself. “Geez, Meegi…” Tiiphani cooed before looking up at his face for a moment and then returning her focus to his pride.

From what he had read online and measured in the privacy of his own home, he wasn't any smaller or larger than the average drake. Likewise, his shape wasn't unique either. Starting at a tip no wider than any of the digits on his paw, his length thickened elegantly down toward his base, where he wasn't able to completely wrap a paw around it. Its smooth, pink shape would have looked like something found on a dolphin, except it stood with less of a curl, and a row of small raised ridges ran down its underside. The line of nubs started half way down his length as nothing more than a braille like bumps and became more prominent toward the root of his shaft where each ridge became like a comb of flesh half an inch high. Following Tiiphani's gaze, Meegi saw that she had noticed the subtle bulge on either side of his shaft right at the base, and a small surge of self-consciousness washed over him. According to the articles he had read, some dragoness’s had mixed feelings about taking a knot, some loving the promise of an extended embrace after climax, while others felt that it was too imposing. Judging by Tiiphanies pause, he felt as though she maybe more of the latter but before he could apologise, the dragoness hummed in acknowledgement.

“I… um… how are we going to do this?” Tiiphani asked without looking up at him. Judging by her tone and distracted expression, Meegi wasn't sure if she was actually asking him or merely talking out loud. Before he could offer a suggestion though, the dragoness rose up to all fours and curled her neck so she could angle her head toward the tip of his shaft. Feeling the warmth of her breath against his member sent a shiver of need and excitement down the drake's spine and caused his hips to involuntarily rock, his cock bouncing wildly in front of the dragoness. “Hold still,” Tiiphani protested as she tried to match his movement with her mouth before instinctively using a paw to hold him halfway up his shaft.

Meegi was no stranger to a paw or occasionally using his maw on himself; however, the feeling of someone else doing it caused a groan to escape his lips and his eyes to scrunch closed. She didn't hold his cock like he would have, and instead of the gentle pressure he would use with his paws, her grip felt as if she was holding him to keep her balance. It wasn't painful, just different and mildly uncomfortable, yet he couldn't find the words to complain as the dragoness' lips found his tip and gave the underside of his cock a long lick. He hadn’t really known what to expect. He’d daydreamed, of course, as all teenagers did. But nothing in his fantasies had prepared him for the soft heat of someone else's tongue dragging slowly up the ridges along his underside. His cock was more than just hard and ready. It felt raw, lit up, every bump and ridge her tongue touched flaring with pleasure that made his tail thud against the mattress.

The slick, warm, and wet texture of her tongue made it all worthwhile, and as he pressed his tail into the bed and bucked his hips again, he was rewarded by her taking more of his shaft into her maw. The wet heat encompassing his shaft had him arching his neck briefly before collapsing back down into the mattress. Lifting his hips to try and press more into her maw, he was met with the frustratingly firm grip of her paw around him holding him back. His head pressed back into the pillow, lips parted. A soft groan escaped him, half-formed, almost embarrassed, but he couldn’t hold it in. It wasn’t just that it felt good. It was that someone else was doing this. Tiiphani’s mouth was on him. She had seen him emerge, taken in the shape of him, almost all of him, the ridges, the base. She had licked him like she meant it, like she wanted to know how each ridge tasted. She didn’t allow him to go much deeper than just her maw, instead taking her time to gently suckle on it before pulling her head off it to kiss the sides.

"Can… Can you go deeper? Please?" Meegi asked between pants and curled his neck again to look down at her. He tried not to make it sound like a request, but the desperation in his voice betrayed him. The vulnerability seemed to bolster the dragoness' confidence, and she smirked with a glint of power in her eyes as she nodded.

Briefly curling her neck down again to try and take him, it was becoming abundantly clear that she was going to have difficulties taking more than the first twelve inches of his cock into her maw. Pausing, she gave the underside of his cock a long lick from the midpoint to the tip before lifting her head up and beginning to turn around. Shifting her hind legs until they bracketed either side of his neck, Tiiphani turned until Meegi was treated to an unobstructed view of the dragoness' vent. His eyes went wide as he became transfixed by the view, his maw parting further as Tiiphani arched her tail upwards and let gravity dangle it over her back, putting her entire rear on full display for him. Moving on instinct, Meegi's forepaws found her hips and gently massaged her flanks, letting the polished, smooth crimson scales slide under his paw pads as he affectionately roamed her tight curves.

Now that she was aligned with him and looking at his cock head-on, the dragoness seemed to hesitate and took her time licking and kissing the tip and sides of his shaft. Her paw began to become less idle, alternating between tentative squeezes at different points of his cock and stroking up and down with more pressure than he was used to. Thankfully, her saliva helped her digits begin to glide down against the sensitive skin of his shaft, and after a moment, a bead of pre leaked from his tip and dribbled down to help. There was no urgency in her ministrations, and he didn't want to rush her. Clearly this was a learning experience for her just as much as him, and when she finally brought her maw around him once again, he leaned into her and pressed his snout against her vent.

He didn't know what warm mead tasted like, but if he had to guess, he was tasting it now as he slipped his tongue out and stroked it up the crease of Tiiphani's vent. The soft, muffled gasp she tried to make around him caused a flicker of a smile to form on his snout, and he renewed his grip on her haunches to lick again with ever so slightly more pressure. Alternating between long strokes from end to end of her vent and circling around the edges, Meegi continued to map her slit, and when he felt her mouth seal around his cock and begin to press down his length, he took the cue and pressed his tongue into her passage. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in the enveloping warmth and groaned louder than he intended as he felt the ridges of the top of her mouth against his cock, and then the softer, fleshy texture of her throat brush across his tip.

Bucking his hips on instinct, he caused Tiiphani to make an undignified gag as he accidentally fed another three inches into her gullet. Lapping at her folds with more gusto, Meegi hoped that she understood his apology, but he grunted a choked "oof" as Tiiphani moved her forepaws to the crease where his hind legs met his groin and held his hips still. The pressure was firm and unyielding, and while it was uncomfortable, he didn't protest and continued to tend to her slit.

Seeming confident that he wouldn't hump into her maw again, Tiiphani began to slowly bob her head up and down his shaft while pressing and stroking her tongue across his sensitive ridges. Letting out a needy whine, Meegi was at her mercy as she sealed her lips as best she could around him and began to hollow her cheeks while moving back and forth. The wet suction resulted in a soft symphony of undignified noises from him, but the feeling was incredible, and when she began to sink further down his shaft, Meegi moaned in bliss as the constricting tightness of her throat clenched around his tip. His chest rose and fell like he had flown for miles. Everything felt tight. Heavy. Like he was full to bursting and didn’t know where to put the need.

Extending his tongue further, Meegi feverishly lapped and plunged his tongue into the dragoness' slick vent. His technique was clumsy, but he tried to make up for it with enthusiasm. Every time he felt her throat undulate or a choked gasp escape her full mouth, Meegi repeated whatever he had done and continued to focus on that sensitive area. Each time her hips bucked or rocked against his snout, he gripped her tighter and rewarded her with focused licking. He could feel the mixture of his saliva and her arousal slicking the corners of his mouth, but he didn't care as he tried his best to reciprocate the pleasure Tiiphani was giving him.

Meegi's tail flicked from side to side in erratic jerks and sweeps, blindly seeking something to coil around as his instincts short-circuited his brain to make his body believe he was in the throes of taking a dragoness. Her moist maw and throat engulfed him almost all the way to his knot, and when her paw enveloped the unformed lobes, Meegi was helpless to stop them from beginning to swell in her grip. The pressure of her firm hold caused his hips to jolt against his will, and her digits closed tighter to hold him still, along with the pressure on his hips, inadvertently creating a feedback loop that made him yearn to hump and thrust as nature intended.

The room had collapsed into heat, sound, and instinct. Meegi couldn’t think straight anymore, not with her mouth on him, her weight pinning his hips, and her vent slick and flushed just above his snout. The bed cradled him like it was part of his body now, soaking up every shiver, every involuntary twitch of his thighs, leaving him no choice but to sink and feel. Tiiphani’s muzzle hovered just above the thickest part of his shaft for a breathless moment. Her lips were slick, parted, glistening with both spit and precum. He felt her throat work as if in anticipation before she then descended down his cock. Her mouth slid down slowly, the tip slipping over her tongue, past the ridges of her palate, and then further. Her lips stretched, and the first set of bumps on his underside brushed into her throat. Meegi let out a strangled sound, some mix between a moan and a gasp. His claws pressed into her hips and held her tighter as her snout buried itself lower.

She didn’t stop until her snout brushed against the paw that squeezed his knot and then swallowed around him. Her throat squeezed around his shaft and each comb-like bumps along his length rubbed across the roof of her mouth, sending a spike of arousal through his whole body as they almost caught. Her slick throat wasn’t smooth; it was alive and heavenly. The interior of her throat clutched at him, soft and hot and undulating with every slight swallow. Her tongue pinned him from beneath, warm and slick, and the deeper she went, the tighter the fit became.

Meegi was falling apart.

His forelegs were useless. His body had surrendered. And her throat; her throat was heaven and agony. Every time she bobbed down, it wasn’t just the heat that wrecked him. It was the texture. As her mouth moved, wet and insistent and gloriously messy, his ridged shaft dragged along the top of her mouth. The bumps halfway down caught on the roof just slightly, raking across it with a tugging friction that sent electric jolts of pleasure straight through his core. The deeper she went, the rougher the feeling. The comb at the base of his shaft, those sensitive fleshy nubs, scraped gently against her upper palate on each pass. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan out, jaw clenched and breath ragged.

"G-gods," Meegi gasped, voice strangled in his throat. His legs kicked once against the bed, but he couldn’t go anywhere. The mattress absorbed everything. All he could do was sink deeper into the smothering heat, the pressure, the scent of her flooding his nostrils.

But he had to give back. He couldn’t let her do all this alone. His tongue pushed back into her folds, hungrier now. Her vent was flushed and wet, so open now that every lap slid easily through her inner lips. She was dripping, coating his muzzle with every pulse of her hips, every buck into his face. And then he felt it. Just below the entrance, a bead of heat, small and firm beneath his tongue. Rolling his tongue over it, he felt her buck and grunted as she drove her hips into his snout.

Meegi felt it first not as sound or movement, but as a change in her body above him. Her hips jerked sharply, vent clenching against his muzzle with a sudden, unmistakable pulse. Her thighs locked around his head, muscles going rigid, and the slick heat against his tongue surged all at once. Whatever restraint she had been holding onto shattered.

His reaction was immediate and frantic. Driven by instinct more than thought, he tightened his grip on her rump, claws pressing into the firm curve of muscle and scale as if anchoring himself to her. His tongue worked with renewed urgency, not refined or careful now, but desperate and focused. He pressed harder, licking and circling the sensitive nub he had found, repeating the motion again and again because it worked. Because every pass made her shudder.

Tiiphani cried out, but not with words, just sound. Her head snapped back, muzzle lifting away from his body entirely as a long, broken whine tore out of her chest. The sudden absence of her mouth was shocking; one moment he was drowning in heat and texture, the next his cock was left hanging in the cool air, slick and aching, ridges exposed and throbbing uselessly.

She didn’t seem to notice. Her forepaws stayed locked behind his knot, gripping it hard, anchoring herself there like it was the only solid thing in the world. She ignored his throbbing shaft. Her claws pressed in just enough to hold, to claim, simulating that tie his body craved even as the rest of him screamed for attention. But above, she was gone, lost in her own pleasure.

Tiiphani’s climax hit in waves. Her hips rocked against his face, not rhythmic anymore but erratic and needy. Each movement smeared more of her slick across his muzzle, her vent fluttering uncontrollably against his tongue. The heat there intensified, pulsing, clenching, and releasing in rapid succession. Her thighs trembled violently, quaking around his head as she rode out the peak, and every shudder sent fresh signals racing through Meegi’s body.

His moan into her vent was muffled, helpless, full of mounting frustration and aching desire. His cock twitched in the open air, slick dripping slowly from the tip, the ridges flaring uselessly with no mouth, no throat, no warmth to answer them. The contrast was brutal, her body consuming his attention entirely while his own need went unanswered.

Her high, breathless whines filled the room. Short, sharp gasps were followed by a broken, almost pleading noise as another wave rolled through her. She arched forward, claws tightening behind his knot as if she might fall otherwise, as if that single point of contact was all that tethered her to reality.

Meegi’s body didn’t understand what was happening. Every instinct he had was screaming that this was wrong, that if she was climaxing, if his knot was surrounded by tight pressure, then he should be buried, locked, unable to move inside a dragoness. Instead, he was restrained and ignored, his slick cock hanging free, exposed and painfully sensitive, throbbing feebly without the encompassing warmth around it.

His hips bucked again, reflexive and desperate, but her grip on his knot and the paw on his hips kept him pinned, denying him the friction he craved. The conditioned air felt cold against his shaft now, and every tiny movement sent sharp sparks of sensation through him without relief. His breathing turned ragged, chest heaving as he continued to service her, tongue never stopping, because he needed to do something.

Tiiphani continued to ride out the last of her climax with slow, grinding motions, eyes squeezed shut, muzzle lifted as soft, broken sounds spilled from her throat. Her tail lashed weakly above his head, swishing through the air with each shudder that wracked her body. She was soaked, trembling, spent, and she took her time with it, savoring every last aftershock while he worked beneath her.

Only when the tension finally began to ebb did her movements slow and her thighs loosen slightly around his head. Her breathing remained uneven, but the sharp gasps softened into long, shaky exhales. Still, her paws didn’t leave his knot. She held him there, absentmindedly squeezing once, twice, as if only now becoming aware of the state she had left him in.

Meegi whimpered again, a low, shaky sound muffled by her vent. His tongue stilled for a moment, breath dragging in sharply through his nose as the pressure inside him became unbearable. His shaft pulsed violently in the open air, the cool of the room contrasting maddeningly with the slickness coating every ridge. His knot twitched between her forepaws, now trapped between instinct and neglect. Every nerve below his belly felt like it was coiled too tight to bear.

“I’m close,” he groaned, voice hoarse and cracking as he pulled his snout back from her folds. “But if we take it slow, we could do it properly.” His tone was pleading, not demanding, a thread of desperate hope laced through the heat in his voice.

Tiiphani, still perched over his chest, blinked slowly. Her breath was starting to steady after the climax he had gifted her, her vent still twitching faintly with aftershocks. She glanced down at his cock, fully flushed, ridges throbbing with every beat of his heart, a heavy strand of pre dripping from the tip. His knot was thick and tight against her paws, too swollen now for her mouth to take. He was glossy with her saliva, trembling, and visibly holding back with everything he had.

“Oh, so now you want to do it,” she sighed and curled her neck to look back at him with a satisfied yet teasing smile. “Kinda sucks to be left hanging on your hatchday, doesn't it,” Tiiphani added with a small laugh that did little to dismiss her remark.

“Sorry, but I need something, T,” Meegi said through clenched teeth. “Please.” He was cut off by a gasp as her paw gave the slightest twitch around his base.

“We can do it later, you won't want to be all sleepy for training,” she mused. She hesitated only a moment longer, then sighed and shifted her weight forward, lifting her hindquarters slightly away from his face. “But maybe you have been a good drake,” she added softly and refocused on his needy cock. Her tail flicked once as she adjusted her grip, keeping one paw wrapped around the base of his knot to hold him firm and support some of her weight. Then, with the other, she reached forward and slid her slick pads up along his shaft.

It wasn’t that divine heat of her mouth, or the clutching slickness of her throat, or the tender pressure of her tongue worshipping every ridge, but it was something. Her strokes were slow at first, exploring. Her palm slid up over his shaft, bumping gently along the combed ridges, then gliding back down, the moisture already coating him making it smooth and messy. Her grip had loosened now to something similar to what he was used to, just snug enough that the texture of her paw pads dragged against his most sensitive spots with each pump.

Meegi hissed through his teeth, head falling back into the pillow. The pressure in his gut climbed again, even faster now. His shaft jerked against her grip, responding eagerly, twitching every time she passed over the most swollen part of his ridges. The stimulation wasn’t refined, but it didn’t need to be. Tiiphani’s strokes grew more confident, the slick sound of her paw working his shaft filling the quiet space between their heavy breaths. Her other forepaw remained locked behind his knot, fingers curled around the thickened base as it pulsed steadily against her grip. The warm slide of her touch was steady and focused, gliding over each ridge and dragging pressure along the combed underside that made Meegi twitch with every pass.

“You like that, don’t you?” Tiiphani asked, her voice low and sultry. She kept stroking, adjusting her pressure with every pass, her paw sliding smoothly from the tip to the swelling knot. His hips rocked into her grip in small, shallow thrusts, just enough to chase what he had been denied for too long.

“I do,” Meegi groaned, scrunching his eyes closed again. “Gods… yeah,” he added with an almost pained whine. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the wave rising in his core, but it was no use. His mind was spinning, overwhelmed by the heat of her body so close, the memory of her mouth, the way she had choked on him and kept going, the way her vent had tasted and clenched around his tongue. But now it was only her paw, and yet even that wasn’t just a paw. It was her. Her scent. Her weight. Her touch.

And as she pumped him, he let himself imagine a scene where it wasn’t her paw at all, but the tight, slick heat of her vent gripping him from tip to knot. He imagined her riding him, rocking down as he stretched her, imagined the sounds she would make, how she would squirm and grind with him locked deep inside.

“I’m close,” he gasped, jaw tight, hips twitching. “Tiiphani, I’m…”

She moved quickly. Hurriedly, she angled his tip downward toward his chest and his belly, anywhere but her. Her grip behind the knot tightened slightly, holding him in place as her pumping paw increased speed, faster now, firmer, sliding over every ridge with wet, focused strokes that made him grunt and whimper with each pass.

Like a pane of glass breaking, the tension in his belly snapped. Meegi bucked upward once, sharp and uncontrollable, his whole body locking tight as his climax hit like a hammer. His cock surged in her grip, the first spurt bursting out in a thick rope across his own chest, painting his tan scales in a messy streak. He groaned deep in his throat, head pressing back into the pillow as his cock twitched again, then again, pulsing hard in her paw with each shuddering wave of release.

Tiiphani kept stroking him through it, watching each rope land hot and heavy across his belly, smearing in messy patterns as his muscles spasmed and relaxed under her. His knot swelled in her grip, straining and uselessly trying to push into something that wasn’t there. His ridges flared one last time, and the final pulses came weaker, dribbling across his belly scales as he sagged into the mattress.

His thighs trembled. His eyes stayed shut, jaw slack, chest rising in uneven waves. “Than… thank you,” Meegi groaned while his chest heaved with each ragged breath. His reaction seemed to amuse the dragoness, who giggled before letting go of his cock and knot, stepping off him as if his mess would somehow taint her. The sudden lack of pressure behind his lobes caused an undignified groan of protest to escape his maw, and without hesitating, the drake reached down to grip himself once more. Even though his ejaculation was now nothing more than the occasional dribble, the pressure behind his knot kept his pleasure going, and now renewed with a familiar grip, the drake leaned back into the mattress in bliss.

“Oh, don't thank me yet, Meegi,” Tiiphani cooed as she turned around to face him. Pausing briefly to wipe her paws on his thigh, she then flopped down beside him and looked into his eyes with a knowing expression. “Your real hatchday present comes later.”

---

The sound of claws clicking against the polished concrete echoed down the long hallway that led toward the perfectly manicured grass pitch and the large open-air stadium. Above, a single row of fluorescent lights guided the pair of dragons, although both knew the inner workings of the stadium well. Due to the players training inside the stadium and the first gathering of the team since their brief break, extra security had been hired, and now the roof was littered with dragons ready to intercept any trespassers. Regardless of whether it was over-eager fans hoping to get a look at the team or scouts from rival teams trying to learn more of their tactics, any interruption to their training was not a risk that Tiiphani's father was willing to entertain. Although the drake owned the team, rented the stadium, and even hired the guards, Haanith and Meegi had still landed outside the large oval structure and entered like any other staff member or spectator. Meegi was familiar with the hallways; having helped pack training equipment away after training sessions, he could navigate most of the maze-like tunnels without getting lost. Walking alongside the owner of the Coastal Cresties made things feel far more tense, and he swore that the walls felt closer together now that the large, imposing red drake strode beside him. It wasn't unusual for Haanith to attend the training sessions, although he usually lingered in the background and occupied himself with phone calls and other negotiations that sometimes had him talking quite firmly into his horn-mounted headset. After all, the development of tactics and talent was the responsibility of the multiple coaches and trainers he paid for, leaving him to handle the business side of running the team.

“So, tell me Meegi,” Haanith started, his deep voice resonating off the stark concrete walls. “You've been training with the team for a little while now. How are you finding things?” He asked, and instantly Meegi felt as if he was asking more than just idle small talk. After breakfast, Tiiphani and her mother had needed some more time to get themselves ready and had promised to catch up, leaving Meegi and Haanith to fly to the stadium together. Being alone alongside the larger drake, Meegi tried hard to look at ease in his presence. He had been alone with the drake before, but now Meegi couldn't help but feel like he could taste Tiiphani on his tongue and smell her heated, slick vent on his snout. He had brushed his teeth before breakfast, vigorously scrubbed his muzzle with a soap in the shower, and tried to tell himself that the smell was just in his head.

“Oh, it's a dream come true, really,” Meegi replied quickly and flashed the drake a polite smile. “I’m learning so much from just being there for the training and helping where I can,” he added before nodding towards the far end of the corridor, where the bright light of day made the exit appear like a white square. “And flying with the team is always good, even if it's just to catch the dropped egg shaped balls every now and again,” he continued, and regretted sounding so starstruck.

With a chuffing sound, the drake chuckled under his breath and shook his head when Meegi looked up at him. “I imagine it is pretty surreal being so close to the players you had seen on television,” Haanith mused and reset his wings against his sides. Meegi wasn't completely sure if the drake was insulting him or making some sort of remark about his upbringing, but he forced a smile and nodded before cocking his head.

“Not exactly. I think I'm kind of used to it. Daanic was my coach at school after all,” Meegi countered politely and looked ahead. “He was always my favourite Crestie, and I was pretty excited to have him as coach. He taught me so much about the tactics, composition, and reading the opposition,” Meegi continued, and when he looked back up at the drake, he saw that Haanith was now looking ahead with a firm look in his eyes.

“Daanic was a good one. It was painful to see him get downed,” Haanith replied in an almost rehearsed voice. With a sharp inhale, the drake shook his wings and then smiled down at Meegi. “So, he taught you about composition, did he?” he asked, and when Meegi nodded, he seemed to look more amused. “Alright then, let's see if my star claimer has taught you well. What can you tell me about Jiiral?”

The question caught Meegi off guard, and he hesitated for a beat as he recalled everything he knew of the drake. With each team composed of three claimers who would try to capture the egg-like balls from the opposition’s nest and three brooders who would defend their own nest, Jiiral was a reserve player who was to cover for a claimer should a player get grounded due to injury. While any reserve player could technically be called upon in the event of a crash of a primary player, each reserve player had been given a rank to signify their order of when they might see action. Meegi felt as though the drake was asking for more than just the basic information of the drake, and swallowed before replying. “He is a fair claimer. Before you bought him, he was averaging five successful captures a game, and another five attempts.”

“I'm not asking for his stats, Meegi,” Haanith corrected with a firmness in his voice that gave Meegi pause. “I have a whole team of analysts that can tell me exactly how many eggs he gets when the wind is blowing east versus west, or if he got laid the night before. That's not what I'm asking. You have trained with him, you've heard the team talk when he isn't around. What do you know about him?” he asked again, and now Meegi understood. It was likely that the drake was getting a filtered report of his team and wanted a more raw and honest account.

“He is a brute, on and off the field.” Meegi started and looked up to Haanith to gauge his reaction. When the drake gave a curt nod and looked back at him expectantly, he quickly continued. “He is very loose with the rules, historically. I think you did a good job keeping him off the field, given that we only got through the season with four penalty points left.” He continued and noticed the drake didn't react to his brief attempt at flattery. Unlike the matches he had played at school, the top levels of the sport had a system of penalties that were applied to the entire team when a player broke the rules or performed a risky tackle. Many fans argued that it made the sport lose its brutal charm, but it had made a statistical impact on the number of players being permanently injured. Additionally, the reduced violence had allowed fans to watch their heroes play for longer before being retired.

“You're right, but we lost the grand finals by only two points. Some think it would have been better to sub Jiiral in and let him get some points,” Haanith replied and looked down at Meegi with just his eyes. “But I'm interested to hear what you think. Did you think the coaches made the right choice?”

“Hindsight is a luxury, sir. They did well with what was presented—”

“Meegi, if I wanted you to suck the coach’s clit, I'd see about getting you into the cheer squad.” Haanith retorted with a laugh. His choice of words made Meegi's blood run cold, and he wondered if the drake knew what he and Tiiphani had gotten up to. His heart beat faster as the large drake strode ahead with two long steps and then turned sharply to cut him off. “What do you really think? Be honest. If you were a coach, what would you have done at that moment?”

Forcing himself to bury the memory of Tiiphani's mouth around his cock, Meegi swallowed and reset his wings. “I think he flies better than almost all of the primary claimers. He likely would have scored the points needed to win. But when he flew for the Nixies, he regularly racked up five to seven penalties in a half if he was pissed off, so there is a good chance that he would have come out swinging and ruined it for the team. He is difficult, unpredictable, and overall, I think he is a liability.” Meegi added with more confidence. “No one in the team likes him, but if I'm honest, no one likes going up against him in training for risk of getting injured. He has very little care for team plays and will try to win the game by himself. Liiniana called him blunt force trauma on wings, and I think she is right. But he is too good to be kept in reserve.” The drake seemed to not be completely satisfied with his answer, and Meegi realised that he hadn't actually answered the owner's question. “Given it was the grand final and we were losing in the first half, I would have sent him in for the second half. Worst case, we get penalty’d out and lose the game, cop a small fine and whatnot. But we were already down on points, so the risk was low. Also, if it was coming down to the siren, the officials might be more inclined to let some penalties slip as it's almost over.”

The small smirk in the corner of the drake's snout suggested that he had answered the question with some degree of success, and when the drake nodded before turning back to walk down the tunnel, Meegi breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Not a bad play. Hindsight is a luxury,” Haanith mused and slowed his steps for Meegi to catch up. “But enough foreplay. What would you do with him now? If you were me and had him groaning for air time and his manager calling me every other day, how would you keep him happy without upsetting the rest of the team's dynamic?”

Meegi chewed on the question for a few paces before clearing his throat. “Keeping him in reserve is a bad move. He is wasted there. He would almost make a good brooder, but you know that he wouldn't stay in his zone. He is a claimer through and through; he only knows how to score points and hit back. I would put him as a primary if you were going up against a team like the Warblers. It would get bloody, but you could use his strength to score. They are a formidable team, but they are always running out of penalties by halfway through the season, so you could protect your real players by having him up front to take the hits.”

“Using him as a hammer and shield, eh?” Haanith asked, looking down at Meegi with a slight look of genuine surprise. “I think he might be too thick to work out what we are doing, but the officials will, and I don't think they will look too kindly on meeting violence with violence. That wouldn't absolve us of the penalties he racks up. We could very quickly be out of the championship because of his recklessness.”

Haanith was right, and Meegi knew it. Shuffling his wings as he walked, Meegi quickly thought through the scenario before rocking his head from side to side. “Well, the next part of the plan would be to put him in, but give him a contract or something that says if he accrues three penalties he is benched. He wants to fly, so holding a stick might keep him in line,” Meegi replied, but he quickly saw the flaw in his optimistic plan. Jiiral could hardly play the game by the rules when things became heated, so the chances of him following a contract were slim. “You would have to make the punishment or reward very enticing though. However, once he racks up two penalties, he will make the third one more brutal as he knows he is done. But a penalty is a penalty. It doesn't matter if it is engaging a brooder for a second too long or breaking a wing on purpose. The good part is that benching him after three penalties will signal to the officials that you are taking this seriously and should hopefully mean the rest of the team aren't being too heavily penalised.”

“I see Daanic has taught you to think of the team. I'm impressed,” Haanith mused, but as Meegi smiled hopefully, the drake shook his head. “When I took Daanic on, he was much like you. Straight out of school and could fly circles around most of the players, but back then he was hopeless with team dynamics. He would try to win the game by himself with little thought to the next game or the season. Based on what you've said, I see that there is still much I can teach you.” He continued with a tone in his voice that made Meegi concentrate on what he was really saying. Being compared to Daanic should have been a compliment that filled his chest with pride, but Meegi couldn't help but feel as if the drake wasn't impressed with his answer. “You're not planning on breaking up with my daughter anytime soon, are you?” he asked bluntly, turning his head to look down with a stern expression that made Meegi almost trip over his own paws.

“No-no,” Meegi replied hastily before clearing his throat and forcing himself to breathe. “No, Sir,” he repeated more firmly, earning a soft chuckle from the imposing drake who clearly enjoyed his flustered expression.

“Good. I am happy to teach you everything I know. But I'm not going to waste my time on someone who isn't valuable to me,” Haanith remarked, while his pupils contracted to slits as they approached the bright light at the end of the corridor. The look, combined with the harsh light illuminating the ridges of his brow, gave him an almost fierce and wild appearance that made Meegi tightly pull his wings against his sides. “And if you hurt my little egg…” he added and let the threat hang in the air as they emerged onto the open-air stadium grounds.

Meegi swallowed and dipped his head in understanding before blinking to help his eyes adjust to the bright daylight that flooded the stadium. Compared to the shade and air-conditioned corridor, the inside of the stadium was almost hot and made Meegi's scales feel alive. On the lush green grass, the players had already assembled and were going about fitting their gear and stretching ahead of their training. Coaches and assistants, both humans and dragons alike, littered the throng of players, talking to each of them to coordinate the activities and assist with any troublesome straps. It took Meegi longer than it should have to notice, but there were only eleven players present. Each game was played with three claimers and three brooders, with another six in reserve for a season, and it was quickly apparent that Jiiral was missing.

“Jiiral must be late,” Meegi mused and glanced up when Haanith turned his head back to look at him and shook it with a look of professional detachment.

“Jiiral has been cut,” Haanith said flatly and looked back out of the corner of his eye at Meegi. “Do you know why?” Meegi knew that this was another test. Wracking his mind, he failed to see any logical reasoning, especially without a replacement present. If he had been traded for another, that would have made sense, but to be cut completely seemed irrational. For the briefest moment, Meegi’s heart skipped a beat as he thought that maybe this was some elaborate way for him to be added to the roster, but he refrained from saying something childish. These were professional athletes, after all, and he was here to collect the balls that had been dropped.

“No, I honestly don't,” Meegi conceded after a few paces, hoping that honesty would earn him favour with the drake. “Did you get a good offer for him?”

This amused the drake, whose lips lifted to reveal his ivory fangs with a genuine laugh. “Oh-no, far from it. But I'll give you a hint, selling him cheap was the whole point,” he replied and raised an eyeridge while looking at Meegi expectantly. Now Meegi was even more perplexed. A financial benefit was the only thought that made sense, and to lose money wasn't something he would have expected the drake to do intentionally.

“Jiiral is off to the Warblers…” Haanith offered, but when Meegi didn't connect the dots, the drake let out a small sigh of defeat and explained. “Before I bought Jiiral, he had cost me two claimers and a brooder. The dumb fuck was cheaper to own than to play against, so buying him was almost an insurance. And trust me, back then he wasn't cheap. But now, after a few seasons on the bench without anything notable, he isn't worth that much. Thankfully, the Warblers don't have that much money, having failed to complete the last three seasons. Tell me, do you remember the scores when we played the Warblers last time?”

Meegi hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Six to five, we won. But not by much.”

“Exactly, way closer than it should have been. We are the Coastal Cresties for fuck’s sake, and we almost lost to a bunch of brutes who can't remember what their colours are,” Haanith replied with a sharpness in his voice that focused Meegi's attention. “The officials rotate the order of the matchups, so we aren't expected to play them until late this season. Now that they have Jiiral, something tells me they won't make it to our game before being kicked for penalties.” He added a knowing smirk. “And who knows, if they take out the Nixies’ primary brooders before then, we might have ourselves an easy season.”

Meegi's eyes widened in realisation, and he curled his neck back almost defensively as he realised just how immature his suggestion had been. He had been so focused on dealing with the players they had that he hadn't considered why Haanith had even bought such a player, nor that the drake could be used to benefit them while not on their team. “Smart move, Sir. The Nixies’ defence is the best in the league,” Meegi replied, and he noticed the drake's chest puff slightly with pride.

“That it is,” Haanith mused as they approached the coaches, players, and the rest of the support staff. On top of the usual egg fetchers and hydration specialists that Meegi worked with, he also noticed a pair of dragons sporting saddles with heavy-looking camera equipment mounted on pneumatically stabilised arms. Beside them, a small group of humans were tending to the gear, connecting cables and batteries to the various components. Among them, a woman wearing tight grey pants and a professional-looking blouse seemed to be briefing the camera crew while referring to a clipboard. Meegi had seen her a few times and recognised her as one of the team's marketing managers or directors. Her name and exact title escaped him, but Meegi began to realise that this first training session of the season was meant to be something special.

Before Meegi could ask Haanith what the special occasion was, he saw the lead coach look toward them and begin to trot over. A heavyset dragoness who had once been a prominent brooder before losing the last foot of her tail and breaking a wing in a particularly violent engagement, Yaaneh was the sort of dragoness who never seemed to be happy with any achievement and permanently had a scowl on her snout. “About time, we are about to start our warm-ups,” she snapped while glancing between Haanith and Meegi. Despite the crimson drake's ownership of the team, the dragoness had no hesitation in making her frustrations with Haanith known to his face. “Are you sure about this?” she asked and jerked her head toward Meegi while looking at Haanith.

“It's just practice,” Haanith started with a hint of force in his voice that made it sound like something she should already be aware of. “With Jiiral out, you are down a member, right?” Haanith asked rhetorically and lifted a wing to firmly pull Meegi against his side in what Meegi assumed was an attempt at a fatherly gesture. “Give the kid a good hatchday, will you? Just try not to break him, Tiiphani would be quite upset.” He curled his neck to look down at Meegi, whose heart had begun to hammer in his chest. “I assume you are up for training with them?”

Opening and closing his mouth in stunned realisation, Meegi's mind tried to wrap itself around what was being proposed. He wasn't here just to collect errant balls, but was being asked to actually fly with the rest of the team, the same team he had once stayed up late watching play. “Re–really?” Meegi stammered, his eyes going wide and his lips pulling back into an elated smile that Haanith chuckled at. “I–um–yes, YES!”

“Knew you would be,” Haanith replied before looking back at the head coach. “Did you get a uniform for him, Yaaneh? Might as well make him look like one of the team, right?” He added and grunted in acknowledgement when Yaaneh nodded. Turning his neck back around to look under his wing, he tightened his grip on Meegi and lowered his voice. “With Jiiral getting cut, we are going to be in the headlines for being one short. We are looking to control the narrative, selling the angle of a lucky Cresties fan getting a surprise hatchday present and getting to train with the Cresties. It will win hearts and minds, boost memberships, and distract from the fact that we are one short. Hence the cameras, so put on a good show for us, will you?” he asked, but Meegi knew this wasn't a question. Not that he would complain; this was, after all, the closest thing to playing at a professional level he had ever done, and his heart pounded with excitement. “Good lad. Your mother is here too; she understands the assignment. If we hit the emotional beats hard enough, people will forget all about the fact that you're fucking my daughter.” He added and pulled away with a smile that didn’t look pleasant and sent a shiver down Meegi's spine.

“I–um… we aren't actually…” Meegi went to correct the drake but was dismissed with a subtle shake of the larger drake's head, and the wing around him relaxed to retract once more.

“Go get your gear on. You wouldn't want to keep them waiting,” Haanith added and pulled away from Meegi to turn around. Tracking the larger drake with his head, Meegi followed the direction he was heading and saw the familiar figure of his mother sitting almost alone in the otherwise empty stadium. Besides her was a human with a camera, talking to her and likely asking for details to help their upcoming publicity story. Seeing that he was looking in her direction, she bobbed her head with a proud smile that he instinctively returned and lifted a wing from his side to wave back.

“Meegi! Action stations!” Yaaneh snapped, pulling Meegi's attention back to the field, and when he saw that the coach had already taken half a dozen steps to return to the team, he quickly bounded to catch up. “Guys, I wanted you in the air five minutes ago. Stop getting your scales waxed and talons did, and get your shit together,” Yaaneh continued and gestured with a folded wing toward a crimson and gold silk bag that lay on the ground. “Meegi, that's your kit. Do you need an aide?” She added and nodded toward the humans that were tending to the other players. While standing, fully grown dragons were roughly shoulder to shoulder with adult men and women, however, their long necks and quadrupedal stance bodies made them significantly larger than their two-legged staff. Their larger paws did come with some shortcomings and while the straps and buckles were large enough to be fastened by a dragon's less dextrous paws, human hands did have an advantage.

“No, ma'am. I don't think so,” Meegi replied as he briskly snatched up the crimson silk bag. He felt as if he was already being given so much; accepting the assistance of a human for something he could do himself felt wrong. “Thank you, ma'am,” he added awkwardly, which earned him a small smirk from the coach as she moved on to inspect her team.

Sitting back on his haunches, he fumbled briefly with the drawstring before gripping the mouth of the bag and opening it to reveal what had once been a neatly folded set of pads and braces. Diving a paw in, he extracted the first foreleg guard and looked down the interior of the curved, tube-like vambrace. Unlike the cheap plastic guards he had once used, or the second-hand ones he had cleaned religiously to use at school, these looked brand new, and he was surprised to see the neat weave of carbon fibre on the interior. He didn’t allow himself time to admire their construction, and as soon as he found the engraving to show which paw it went on, he removed the phone holster he had on his left foreleg and quickly slipped his forepaw through the guard. Pulling the top strap tight, he secured the protective plate around his leg and went about tightening the rest so the reinforced guard couldn’t rotate around his leg. Following with the other vambrace, he worked swiftly and methodically to ensure each piece was tightly pressed against his scales, then reached into the bag for the large chest plate and spine protector. In the haste of trying to get the armoured pads on, he had almost forgotten to remove his dark brown leather harness. Tugging on the straps, he fought with the buckles in his excitement, and the rig almost got snagged on his new vambraces. Shaking his legs free of the loops in his harness, he folded it over itself and then tossed it to one side.

“How is it that the egg catcher can move faster than you sorry fucks,” Yaaneh called out while pacing between the players and their aides. Meegi knew that it was just a comment to rile up the players and speed them up, but he allowed himself a small smirk as he drove his head through the neck hole in his chest plate and slipped it down his neck until the spine protector ran down his back and the breastplate covered his large flight muscles and vital organs. Although cheap comic books and B-grade action movies might portray dragon scales as being impenetrable, the truth was that they were only a similar density to a human’s fingernail, just many times thicker. Their smooth and overlapping formations helped glance a blade or talon off rather than allowing it to sink in, but they were not indestructible, and a cracked scale could take weeks or months to heal. Despite this being only a training session, accidents could happen, and it was always best to practise with all the equipment on anyway.

Sitting further back on his haunches, Meegi secured the rearmost straps of his chest plate to his thighs and fastened the ends of the spine protector to his hind legs as well. He made sure to give himself a few inches of slack, as his back was more compressed while sitting than it would be while flying, and he shivered at the thought of embarrassing himself by trying to take off, only to find his gear too tight. Next came a pair of thin pads that covered the straps on his thighs. Like all claimers, most of the padding was thickest at his front, with his shoulder, chest, and foreleg guards being made of a stronger material, while his rump and tail were left light and flexible to allow for tighter turns and more dynamic manoeuvres. The brooders, however, spent most of the game perched on their nests and were afforded a thicker and more encompassing padding that could protect them from all angles.

Looking across the rest of the team as he reached back into the bag, he saw that the majority of the team were ready, with their human assistants fussing about, tucking away excess straps to stop them coming loose. At the bottom of the bag, his paws found the polished smooth surface of a helmet. Inserting a digit into the grid like mesh at the front , he lifted it out of the bag and turned it over in his paw. While the majority of the protective plates were painted red, Meegi could see the weave of the carbon fibre under the paint. Unlike the helmet he had worn at school that had shielded his entire face and had a clunky metal guard to stop him from being able to bite an opponent, this was distinctly more stylish and sleek. It was clearly designed to be more universal fitting than the custom molded and contouring helmets that the other players wore, but Meegi didn't care as he slipped it over his horns and pulled it down over his snout. Rummaging around for anything he had missed, his heart sank as he realised he was missing a crucial part of his equipment. “Uh… Coach?” Meegi asked sheepishly in a voice that was almost lost in the hubbub around him. When Yaaneh whipped her head around, he swallowed past the lump forming in his throat and dipped his head sheepishly. “I didn't think to bring my claw guards.”

To help protect players from being slashed by talons, either on purpose or by accident, silicone caps that clung to each talon were compulsory for all players. He understood why they weren't included in the loaner uniform, as it wasn’t something that could be easily adjusted to his size like padding or leg guards. When he was younger, Meegi had tried to use a cheap universal set when he had first started playing as a fledgling, but had quickly learnt why professionals used custom-made ones. It wasn't uncommon for athletes at this level to have sets that ranged into the thousands of dollars, often made with the use of expensive 3D scanners and custom molds. Having seen how they were made, Meegi had managed to make his own with a sketchy silicon kit he had ordered online. They came out surprisingly well, and he was quite proud of them, but now they were back at home and he wasn't sure what this would mean for the training session. Each of these athletes was worth millions of dollars to the club, and while it was a dangerous sport, taking unnecessary risks like having a player with exposed claws could spell disaster if things went wrong.

“You don't have your own?”

“Not here, I thought I was just fetching eggs today,” Meegi replied and tucked his wings tighter when she looked at him with a stern expression and then glanced toward the camera crew who were in the final stages of getting ready. “Fuck it, fly without them, just be careful,” Yaaneh replied and turned her head to address the rest of the team. “If any of you manage to get scratched up by Meegi here, you don't deserve to be a Crestie,” she teased, and Meegi tossed the silk bag to cover his old harness. “Alright, let's have a look at you,” Yaaneh added as she stepped forward to inspect his uniform.

Rising to all fours and rolling his wing joints, he made sure that nothing was too tight but not slack either. When the coach began to circle him, Meegi couldn't help himself from craning his neck to look down his length and admire the new pads that hung tight against his body. In the span of maybe two minutes, he no longer wore his tidy, yet simple brown leather harness and now sported the team's colours across his body. Wrapping his chest and extending under him to his lean belly, an inch-thick pad emblazoned with the team's logo followed the contours of his body effortlessly. Mirroring its location, a flexible yet rubbery pad ran down his spine and was secured to the thin pads that protected his haunches.

It felt surreal to be wearing an actual uniform for the Cresties rather than something homemade or his old school pads. Having only ever owned second hand pads before, the feel of new pads felt stiff and crisp, but thankfully didn't obstruct his movement as he curled his body left and right and lifted each leg in turn. Unlike the cheap polyester material that covered the heavily marked-up Crestie merchandise he had once coveted, the crimson fabric felt to be made of a thick cotton. Despite the haste of getting the pads on him, he had also noticed that the backing of the padded chest plate and foreleg guards was made of a dense weave of carbon fibre rather than the flimsy plastic he was used to. The only aspect of his uniform that didn't match the others was the distinct lack of name and number printed into the spine guard and chest plate. A small voice tickled the back of his mind, suggesting he ask if he could keep the uniform once training was done so he could see about getting it embroidered later, but he silenced the thought as Yaaneh gripped his shoulder pad and gave it a firm tug. Despite no longer playing professionally, the force behind her pull was formidable and almost sent him stumbling. Quickly extending a foreleg, he managed to dig a paw into the ground to hold himself upright, and he saw a small look in the coach’s eyes that he couldn't quite place. He felt as though he was being judged by her in some way, as if she was only tolerating his presence because of Haanith’s decision to include him.

“You almost look like one of us,” Yaaneh mused before giving him a subtle wink and turning her head to address the rest. “Alright, warm-up time, sighting lap, then a quick primaries vs reserves to get the blood going. First team to successfully claim wins! Losers gets the privilege of doing ten penalty laps!” she cried out in a commanding voice and nodded toward one of the claimers. “Seenka, except you. You are on the reserve team for today. Meegi has your spot. Boss wants him with the primaries for the photos,” she added before whipping her head to scan the group. “Well? Let's go! Let’s go! Let's go!” she cried in a chastising and urgent voice.

At once, the entire team broke away from their aids and spread out over the field to create enough space for takeoff, and they launched into the sky in a flurry of powerful wingbeats. The sudden blast of air from their wings kicked up stray blades of grass the mowers hadn’t collected, sending them tumbling in chaotic spirals across the field. Squinting, Meegi tilted his head away from the gust before bounding after them. His claws dug into the turf and tore chunks of earth up as he built speed with each lunge. With two strides, he half spread his wings, his flight muscles poised to extend the large surfaces and heave them downwards. Landing on his final bound, his body contracted and his muscles throughout his legs back bundled and then, with a release like a spring uncoiling, he launched upward.

In an instant, the ground fell away from him and cool air enveloped his body. The rush of wind was exhilarating as it threaded its way through the seams of his scales and cooled his wing membranes and the blood within them. Meegi’s breath left him in a steady rhythm, timed with the repetitive thrum of muscle, tendon, and membrane working in harmony. He felt the familiar glide-like sensation between downstrokes, those brief, weightless moments when lift carried him and his wings hummed with pressure.. The familiar tug and tension in his flight muscles and the that air caught under his membranous wings came with a sudden surge of familiarity and confidence that made Meegi almost forget the fact that the cameras were likely tracking his every move.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted the pair of camera dragons pacing them. They flew closer to the stadium’s central airspace, following smoother arcs so they didn’t have to match the players’ full speed. Their wings rose and fell in practiced, measured motions as they kept the athletes perfectly framed with the stands as a dramatic backdrop.

Meegi pushed himself higher, one thing that was abundantly clear: these players were fast. Faster than they had ever appeared from the ground. During training he had learnt quickly they were quick, but he had never needed to match their full-speed formation flight. Now, chasing the wake of their slipstream, he felt the sheer requirement of precision. Every small adjustment mattered. He tightened the angle of his wings, corrected the tilt of his tail fins, and streamlined his body to reduce drag. Slowly, steadily, he crept closer. Climbing up until he was at the same altitude as the team and just below the mouth of the stadium, Meegi focused all of his efforts on gaining speed and slowly began to get closer to the flight. By the time they had made it past the first side nest, he was now only a body’s length behind Fiital and the other primary claimer, and when they glanced back, he swore he saw a small glimpse of surprise in the drake's green eyes. In all the games he had played at school and in clubs, it was rare that a dragon could match his speed, and even fewer could match his maneuverability. However, it was abundantly clear that these players were in a whole other league, and their warm-up speed was only just slower than his personal best.

Passing by the central nesting pole, the reserve team broke away from the main flight, each of them pitching upward in a stall-inducing climb before spiralling back over themselves toward their half of the field. Glancing back over his shoulder, Meegi saw the three brooders separate and land on each of the nesting poles. Unlike human, mixed, and many other dragon sports, Dragonball was exclusively played in the air. The large stadium, which was big enough to host two football games in parallel, was oval-shaped, with three narrow glass tubes surrounded by curved steel support material standing spaced out evenly at each end. Each nesting pole consisted of a small platform for one of the team's brooders to rest on, with an ivory-coloured ovoid ball in its centre. The aim of the game was straightforward: steal the other team’s eggs and return them to any one of your team's nests to score a point. The team with the highest score at the end of ninety minutes won. Of course, there were finer details of the game, such as only allowing one claimer to try to capture an egg at a time, and a strictly enforced zone around the nesting pole that the claimer and brooder could fight in, but otherwise the game was quite simple and often violent.

The crimson and mustard-yellow cushions of the spectators’ seating blurred beneath them as the primary players continued their high-speed orbit. Advertising banners pulsed past in streaks, a betting agency in bold blue and green, a beer logo featuring an amber-glass silhouette on black, and the glossy blue oval of a car manufacturer. All were sponsors of the Coastal Cresties, and all had paid dearly for the privilege of having their logo on display for the entire season.

By the halfway point, Meegi was no longer trailing the flight, and when he noticed that Fiital and Paaskal, the other primary claimer, were flying in an offset formation with one slightly ahead and beside the other, Meegi angled his wings and completed the arrowhead formation.

“Good pace, Meegi,” Fiital called back over his shoulder, and Meegi felt as if he wasn't just being polite but was genuinely impressed. His compliment made him push past the burn he felt in his chest, and he dipped his head in thanks while maintaining their breakneck pace. “The boss said you played well at school. Care to show us what you've got?” he added in his southern drawl, without any signs of fatigue.

Not wanting to risk trying to speak and having his voice come out strained, Meegi nodded, which earned a smirk of acknowledgement from the lead claimer. Approaching the central nesting pole of their half, Fiital led the flight in a synchronised turn that had them race across the platform, and then their brooders peeled off to take their positions on their nesting poles. Like an arrow bisecting their half of the stadium, Fiital, Meegi, and Paaskal raced toward the middle line. Ahead of them, the reserve claimers were swooping down to intercept, and Meegi noticed a distinct twitching of the digits on Fiital's hind paws. The movements were deliberate and quick, flicking two digits up, then one, then curling his toes before flashing all four. It was a code, of course, but one that Meegi wasn't familiar with. During games, it was standard practise for players to wear a bone induction speaker on one of their horns to hear instructions from their coaches or team captain. However, after some teams were caught breaking the encryption and listening in on players, the Cresties abandoned giving play instructions via radio and returned to using a more low-fi solution. To ensure that they didn't become complacent, they were forbidden in training and the team only wore the hornsets for games to be compliant with the rules.

When Fiital dropped a digit on each paw to show only three on each, Meegi looked toward Paaskal, who glanced back and seemed to understand his confusion. “On his mark, punch low, go deep. We will follow,” he said firmly. When Meegi looked back, he saw that Fiital now held up one digit on his left hind paw and two on Paaskal's side. Then, with a sudden clenching of his hind paw, Meegi understood that it was his cue and cropped his wings while Fiital and Paaskal climbed to intercept the reserve team head-on and stop him from being followed. With nothing but open air between him and the nests at the far end of the stadium, Meegi heaved air into his lungs and pounded his wings with every bit of his strength. His rational mind knew that the stadium was practically empty, but that didn't stop his imagination from running wild. To him, the crowd was a roar with cheers as he sacrificed his altitude for additional speed and made a beeline to the furthest goal, eyeing the powerful-looking brooder who stood atop it with wings unfurled. Once he entered the forty-four-yard-wide circle painted on the ground, he would only have a limited amount of time to capture the egg. During that time, it was strictly a contest between himself and the defending brooder; however, once he had the egg, any number of opposing claimers could intercept him. The flight back was often just as engaging as the attempt to steal the egg, with the opposing claimers only needing the ball to touch the ground for it to count as spoiled. It was therefore the claimer’s responsibility to stop the ball from touching the ground, and work together to pass it between one another in the event of a mid air tackle.

Racing so close to the ground that he could have made out individual blades of grass, Meegi approached the nesting pole from its base and, as soon as his head crossed into the zone, angled his wings and pulled up sharply. The forces of changing direction tore at his flight muscles and tried to fold his wings over themselves, but he held true and traded his horizontal speed to go completely vertical up the tall nesting spire. Twisting his tail and angling the final segment of his wing, he pulled himself into a spiral that kept his back against the pole as tightly as possible and, in turn, kept his approach obscured by the platform. Above him, he could see the brooder keeping a close eye on him as he climbed before leaping off the platform and folding her wings to dive down and try to intercept him. Meegi's eyes narrowed in concentration as he climbed, every foot causing him to lose speed, and he folded his wings tight against his body, sacrificing all control in exchange for preserving his speed.

A small smile pulled at the brooder’s snout as she dove down to collide with Meegi. She had the advantage, being above him, and was both larger and heavier than him. She was making ready to capitalize on both, when Meegi suddenly extended one wing. In an instant, his entire body rotated ninety degrees, and as if gravity had no hold on him, he turned on a dime to orbit the nesting pole instead of climbing. The sudden change of direction caught the brooder by surprise, and she quickly tried to replicate the move, but her speed was too great and her added weight made her turn wider, causing her to overshoot Meegi. With the brooder now below him, Meegi thrust his wings open to catch the air and heaved them downward to surge upward. He tried not to pay the brooder any attention as he focused on the lip of the nest and turned his body over itself to land on its rim with just his hind paws. His whole body compressed down low against the platform like a coiled spring and exploded into a lunge as he collected the ball in his forepaws, taking off from the platform and darted back out onto the pitch.

His stomach tightened in excitement, and he clutched the egg and raced back across the field. Ahead of him, he could see Fiital and Paaskal break away from the three reserve claimers and change course to come to his side. In a traditional game, it might have been wiser for them to stay with the other claimers to stop them from getting into their nests, but when the rules said that the first claim meant a win, they moved with haste to help protect Meegi.

"Let's go, Meegi!" cried Fiital enthusiastically as he performed a tight turn and moved to shield Meegi's front while Paaskal stayed above and behind Meegi's back. "Smile, everyone is watching you!" he added, pointing a talon-tipped digit down at the stadium seating. Following his gaze for only a heartbeat, Meegi smiled a horn-to-horn smile as they raced past where his mother and Tiiphani's father were sitting.

It was childish, but he couldn't stop himself from rocking his wings to acknowledge them and then flapped quickly to maintain his pace. Having the lead claimer cheer him on paled in comparison to the warmth he felt knowing that he was able to share the moment with his mother. The knowledge made Meegi's wings beat harder, his chest swell with pride, and kept the dull ache in his muscles at bay. It might have just been training, but this would be a hatchday he would never forget.

---

“How was that?” Tiiphani squeaked cheerfully as Meegi landed with a trot toward her. His chest was heaving and his maw open as he panted a deep, ragged, wet pant. The air burned his lungs with its cool chill, yet offered very little to soothe the burning blood that ran through his body. Nodding with a smile as words betrayed him, he instead fluttered his wings to try and cool himself off. Similar to how an elephant’s ears were networked with countless blood vessals and were flapped to help cool them down while standing in the sun, a dragon’s wings spread their body heat over a large area and with the help of the air Meegi began to cool his body down. Behind him, the rest of the Cresties' team were already in the process of stripping off their gear with the help of their assistants, but Meegi wasn't in any rush to take his off just yet. The training session had come to its eventual end, but he felt in some way as though removing the uniform completely concluded the experience.

“You flew really well. Dad was really impressed that you could keep up,” she added, and he cleared his throat and swallowed a lump of phlegm that had formed there.

“Really?” Meegi asked between gasps and stretched a hind leg out behind him to apply tension to the muscles in his hips and lower back. When Tiiphani nodded, he looked behind her to see that the large drake was still in the stadium seating with his mother. Judging by how she held herself, she wanted to come out onto the pitch to speak to him, yet the drake looked to be dominating the conversation and she remained politely by his side.

“Yeah, when I got here he wouldn't shut up about you snatching an egg and how they will have to improve their defence strats,” Tiiphani replied before moving closer toward him and pressing her shoulder into his front so that she could rub her neck against his in a friendly hug that didn’t need his wings.

“I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sore tomorrow, that's for sure,” Meegi gasped before clearing his throat again and forcing a lungful of air into his lungs to try and calm his pounding heart. His whole body hurt, but in a good way. He still had a fair way to go to match the athleticism of the rest of the players, but what he had lacked in endurance and skill he had made up for in tenacity. After successfully claiming an egg, the groups had worked on intercepts and evasion drills. This had tested his agility, and he had managed to slip through their tackles on more than one occasion. Every impact had driven the air from his lungs, but every time he had refused to drop the ball, which had earned him rare praise from their coach Yaaneh. He suspected that the players had been going easy on him; after all, they knew he was dating the owner's daughter. However, the knowledge that he had given it his all and handn’t squandered the opportunity to play with the cresties which made the exhaustion that now plagued his body feel comforting.

“Now you see why I didn't want to tire you out this morning?” she asked smugly before making a small giggle. “Well, if we have a good time at the mall, maybe I'll ask Daddy to get you a session with the team's masseuse,” Tiiphani chuckled and pulled away before nodding toward where Meegi had landed from. “Looks like you're a wanted drake,” she added, and when Meegi turned his head, he saw the same woman he had seen talking to the media crew walking toward him with purpose.

He wasn't sure if it was her overly stiff posture and attire, or the way her blonde hair didn't seem to move with any bounce or life, but the woman approached with an almost predatory purpose. Clipboard in hand and headset hanging around her neck, her framed eyes locked with Meegi's, and an overly professional smile formed on her painted red lips. “Meegi, great work out there. The guys got some really usable shots,” she called out as she came closer and adjusted her black-framed glasses. “I’ve just got some questions for you, media release stuff and all that,” she added.

“Sarah Combs, Head of Media, Engagement and Public Strategy,” Tiiphani hissed through a smile, keeping her voice low for only Meegi to hear as he turned around to face the woman. Brushing his tail against Tiiphani's in a gesture of thanks, Meegi tried to compose himself and not appear too out of breath.

“Sarah, right?” Meegi asked, ignoring the knowing smirk from Tiiphani, who sat back down on her haunches and became occupied with re reading the drinks menu. There were so many people who worked for Tiiphani's father, it was impossible to remember all of them, and he hadn't had anything to do with marketing.

“That's me. I've just got some questions I need to run through before we post those pics. Formality stuff, just to make sure we don't expose ourselves to anything we don't already know,” Sarah said as she came to a stop in front of Meegi. Even though her head came up to his chest while he stood, Meegi couldn't help but feel that he was somehow looking up at her with how strongly she held herself. Angling her clipboard so that only she could read from it, she extracted a pen and began ticking some boxes as if those were just a formality. Meegi was familiar with his mother filling out the photo consent forms after winning finals, but now that he was considered an adult, it felt strange to be the one to sign for himself. However, instead of turning the clipboard around for him to scribble a signature, the woman flicked, turned the page, and began to read from the list.

“Alright, I’ve your name. Meegi, that is your hatch name, right? Not a nickname?” she asked, and when Meegi dipped his head, she continued, “Hatchdate, well. That's easy. Happy hatchday.” She said it without any hint of joy in her voice. “Address, should I put Haanith’s apartment at The Spires or…?”

He went to correct her, after all his actual home was with his mother, but he was interrupted before he could open his mouth. “Yeah, that's the one,” Tiiphani answered for him and flashed him a warm smile while Sarah continued to scribble.

“Now, school, that was Liberty Scales High, right?” the woman asked and barely looked up to see him nod. “Any criminal history?” she asked, catching Meegi by surprise. His reaction wasn’t lost on the woman, who looked over the top of her glasses up at him. “Boss says he wants the angle of a member getting a special hatchday present. If it turns out you have been arrested for pinching cars with your schoolmates or dealing drugs to the neighbourhood, it's gonna blow back on us.”

“No, Meegi hasn't done any of that,” Tiiphani giggled. “Riikal and the rest of the Dragonball team pinched a car once, but he says he didn't,” she added, shrugging her wings when Meegi looked at her in surprise. He had retold the story of his friends using chains to relocate a car to the roof of an abandoned warehouse as revenge for parking in a landing area in the city, but he had told her that in confidence. Hearing her so openly talk about it felt like a betrayal, but he forced himself to smile and nod.

“Yeah, I was working that afternoon, also that isn't really my idea of fun,” Meegi clarified and adjusted his wings, folding them but keeping them partially lifted to allow what little breeze graced the stadium to help cool them.

“An alibi, good. That's what I like to hear,” Sarah mused as she continued to write for much longer than what should have been necessary. “Now, your parents. We've spoken to your mom. Hospitality, very nice, really sells the down-to-earth vibe. But your father, what's the deal there?” she asked, and when Meegi pulled his neck back again she rolled her eyes. “Same as before. I don't care if he is a pool drake in adult films or a lawyer for Drag'n'Drop, we just need to know so that we can be prepared. It's my job to curate this narrative, and it's going to make my life harder if I don't know something.”

“Well… I don't really know,” Meegi replied and looked back over his shoulder toward his mother. “My sire is apparently green and worked for Drag'n'Drop, but he didn't hang around to be called dad,” he said flatly and looked back at the woman. “I know that I wasn't exactly planned,” he added, looking down at her with unblinking eyes.

“Drag'n'drop…” Sarah muttered under her breath as she scribbled into her paperwork. “And… green, thanks. Now, alcohol. How much and how often?”

“I'm eighteen!” Meegi scoffed, causing Tiiphani to laugh. Shuffling his wings closer to his sides, he sat back down on his haunches and shook his head.

“Are you sure? I was eighteen once,” Sarah asked and looked him in the eyes. “Again, I don't care if you do, I just need to know,” she pressed, but Meegi held her gaze.

“None” He added with a hint of sternness in his voice that was bordering on rude. He wouldn't explain that he had grown up watching his mother drink far more than she should, or that he had had to ask his neighbours for food on more than one occasion while there were fresh bottles of rum in the fridge. Instead he simply stared at the woman until she moved on.

“So that is a no to drugs then?” she continued and ticked a box before turning the sheet to another. “Okay, sexual history and orientation…”

“Excuse me?” Meegi asked in bewilderment. So far he could see the reasoning behind the questions, but now things seemed far too personal.

“DEI quota, it is a normal question and I have got you down as straight, but I need to know if there are any other lovers that are going to come out of the woodwork when these go live,” Sarah explained and looked between him and Tiiphani. “I can ask this again if you would prefer.”

“No, no one else. And yes, straight,” Meegi answered, feeling slightly embarrassed at answering the question out loud.

“Straight? As in straight straight? Or straight but the showers don't count?” the woman asked with a small smirk, but waved her hand when Meegi's expression answered her. “It is okay, we are just trying to get into the bi and gay markets, and we could have made a thing of it. Moving on… ah, yes, the last party you went to. When was that, and what did you get up to?” she asked before elaborating. “If there are pics of you flashing your asshole or vomiting in the bushes, I just need to know.”

“No, Meegi was well behaved,” Tiiphani answered for him and shrugged her wings when he looked across to her. “It was my hatchday, everything he got up to was PG. Just a bit of kissing on the roof, nothing more,” she added and hid the bite in her voice with a bashful smile.

“Fantastic, home straight now. Fire breathing?” she asked, and when Meegi shook his head she crossed out an entire section. “Magic?” she asked casually, causing Meegi's heart to skip a beat. “People will think you rigged the system.”

“No, no magic,” Meegi lied and stopped himself from correcting her. There were so many stigmas and superstitions around those like him who could perform magic, but rigging a lottery was not something that could be done. “I am just a muggle,” he joked with a small grin, and purposefully relaxed his wings to appear at ease.

“That's what we like. Alright, that wasn't too hard, was it?” Sarah asked rhetorically, flipped the clipboard in her hand, and held out the pen for him to use. Taking the thin pen between two digits, Meegi gripped it tightly to stop it rotating and carefully scribbled an M with a few swirls after it. Lifting the pen, he saw that at the top of the document a small line of bold text read ‘personnel risk assessment form’. He only saw it for a second before the clipboard was pulled away from him and the woman reached to take the pen from his paw. “Fantastic. Also, we are going to need you to take off that uniform, can't have you selling it online after today,” she added and used a finger to comb a lock of hair off her glasses. “Great work out there, Meegi, you are going to sell a lot of memberships,” she concluded, gave a small nod of farewell to him and Tiiphani, and then left in the direction of the two camera dragons who now stood beside a collection of black plastic cases. Each of their riders was in the process of breaking down the gear and storing it for their next shoot.

“Do I even get to see the photos?” Meegi joked once the woman was out of earshot, and he smiled when Tiiphani laughed. Her laugh came with a soft flare of her nostrils and a small crease in the corner of her eyes, a gesture she did when she was genuinely amused. “Surprised she didn't want to know the length of my horns,” he added and extended a wing around Tiiphani.

“Oh, she already knows,” Tiiphani announced with confidence, tapping her tail lightly against his hock as if punctuating her words, causing Meegi to turn his head and look at her in confusion. “I measured them in your sleep,” she replied with a flat expression, her eyes didn’t blink, her expression perfectly still in that way she used whenever she was trying to sell a joke. For the briefest moment Meegi wasn't sure if she was joking or not. However, when the corners of her lips dimpled, he relaxed and laughed politely.

Hearing the soft flutter of wings behind him, Meegi turned and smiled a genuine smile as his mother trotted toward him. Her eyes looked more glossy than usual, and she moved with a wide, proud smile on her snout. “Happy hatchday, oh my gods!” his mother cooed as she came closer and hesitated when she saw that his wing was around Tiiphani. Her steps slowed, her shoulders dropping just slightly. The tiny flicker of her eyes wasn't envy but understanding, a quiet acceptance that he was no longer a fledgling who automatically ran to her first.

Retracting his wing, Meegi brushed his tail against Tiiphani's as he rose to all fours and closed the gap with his mother. Pressing the front of his chest against hers, he leaned into her like he always had and felt her breath hitch as she sniffed back her emotions. “Thanks, Mom, and thanks for coming–”

“Oh, I wouldn't have missed this for the world! Flying with the Cresties, you looked so good out there!” she replied, curling her neck so that she pressed the underside of her jaw against the back of his neck to deepen their hug. Her wings twitched outward, instinctively trying to invite him for more of a hug before she thought better of it and folded them back in. Recoiling as if she thought it was too much, she pulled away and looked him up and down. “This red suits you so well, look at you–”

“I have to return it,” Meegi replied, trying to temper his mother's emotions and stop her from breaking out in actual tears. “It was just practice after all.”

“I know, I know. But maybe one day it won't be just practice. It will be for real! I can see it, Meegi, Cresties Claimer.” his mother replied, her wings lifting partially in excitement and a small tremor of pride ran visibly through her shoulders. “Gods, I still remember teaching you to fly, and how quickly you learned to dance. Now look at you!” she continued, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “The fucking Cresties!” she added with a hushed voice, as if trying not to get caught swearing in the presence of Tiiphani.

“Just a practice,” Meegi repeated, but allowed himself a glance over his shoulder at the rest of the team before looking back and allowing himself a smirk. “But yes, the fucking Cresties,” he added, matching his mother's excitement with his own.

“This calls for lunch, if you're done here, that is,” his mother asked, flicking her eyes from his own toward Tiiphani, who was still lingering behind Meegi.

“Oh, yeah, I'll just need to change and thank everybody. Then I'm all set,” Meegi replied, looking back at the team and spotting Haanith walking through the group of players on his way toward them. Compared to the athletes, his bulk was even more apparent, not in a grotesque obese way, but instead in a size and presence that seemed to ooze confident power with every step.

“How does it feel? Training with the best?” Haanith called out as he came closer, making Meegi smile and dip his head in thanks. The drake’s chest expanded with pride as he approached, wings loosely half-spread in an authoritative but relaxed stance.

“That was incredible, thank you!” Meegi replied quickly as he turned around to face the drake and stood beside Tiiphani. He instinctively straightened, shoulders lifting, wanting to present himself well for the club’s owner. “That was something I had been dreaming of since I watched my first game. It was Cresties versus Nixies. The game before chest guards were mandatory,” he added, making the larger drake scoff and pause to rub a paw across his front.

“Oh gods, that takes me back. Bloody game that one, wasn’t it?” he asked rhetorically and gave him a reassuring smile. “You looked good out there, Champ. I think Yaaneh has her work cut out to get our brooders up to snuff if you can go swooping in like you did and score against us,” he added with a professional chuckle.

“In their defence, it was the reserve team and was just a practise,” Meegi said in a poor attempt at modesty, which only made the drake laugh a deep-chested laugh. “I doubt I could pull that off against your primaries in a real game.”

“Training is meant to be preparing them for a real game, and remember, they are only primaries until they take a crash wrong. My reserves should be just as good as the rest of the team. You did good out there. You were where you needed to be and showed initiative. I have a feeling that your future is going to be bright,” Haanith replied before nodding toward Meegi’s mother. “You have raised a champion. You should be very proud.”

“Oh, oh I am,” his mother smiled through budding tears and ruffled her wings by her sides. Her talons kneaded the turf anxiously, unable to contain her emotion. “I couldn’t be prouder, couldn’t be prouder,” she repeated herself as her voice became tight. Stepping up beside him, his mother wrapped a wing around his side and pulled him into a loving motherly hug.

Seeing movement beyond Haanith, Meegi tilted his neck to look past the team owner and saw other members of the team had turned to see the commotion. Meegi felt his snout darken in embarrassment but refused to pull away from his mother, even as many of the players smiled or chuckled. He didn't think they were mocking him per se, which gave him some confidence. However, in the corner of his eye, he saw Tiiphani looking at them both with a sour expression. He doubted that she was envious of his own mother, but he guessed that perhaps she felt he was acting a little childish by being hugged by his mother, and that was somehow reflecting poorly on her.

Before he could shift away from his mother's wings, the crimson dragoness blinked as she turned her attention to Haanith. “Father, Meegi had a lunch date with his mother at McDonald's,” Tiiphani started, but she was silenced by the large drake recoiling back suddenly in shock.

“McDonald's!” He scoffed loudly and looked around dramatically. “You don't feed an athlete like Meegi that crap. It will rot his endurance!” Haanith spoke with an intensely judgmental tone while focusing on Meegi's mother. However, when Meegi's mother didn't retract her wing and instead clenched her jaw as she lifted her head slightly higher, the drake seemed to realise that he had overreacted. “No, this won't do. Please, allow me to take you both somewhere nice.”

“Oh, thank you, but that really isn't necessary,” Meegi’s mother replied quickly and shook her head while pulling Meegi closer. He could feel the way her breathing was shallow and knew that the drake had struck a nerve with her. “You have done so much for us today already,” she added with a polite yet tense smile.

“No, I simply won't take no for an answer. All of us can go together. There is a place just a few blocks from here that does the most incredible venison,” Haanith replied with a charming smile and lifted a wing for Tiiphani to circle in and come to his side. “The chef and I are good friends, and I’m sure he can get us a spot on short notice,” he added while curling his wing around his daughter.

There was something about the drake's insistence that made Meegi feel as though this invitation was something he would be judged on later by the drake, and he turned to look at his mother. Judging by the way the corners of her lips were tightly clenched, he could tell that she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of spending lunch with Haanith and Tiiphani instead of just him. The idea of paying for his mother's food would likely not be possible if they went to whatever fancy restaurant Haanith had in mind, however after the drake had been so generous it felt rude to decline his offer. He desperately needed to be in the drake's good graces, and seeing how he had reacted to the idea of cheap fast food revealed to Meegi that he wouldn't likely forget his decision quickly if he chose to indulge himself in his family ritual. “Mom? Could we do our thing tomorrow?” he compromised and watched as his mother's expression flickered from discomfort to understanding as she glanced between him and Haanith.

His mother's nostrils flared briefly as she inhaled, and then a forced yet warm smile formed on her snout. It was the same smile he had seen her use when she wasn't happy but had to pretend. “I…I guess… sure, why not. Actually, tomorrow would work better anyway,” she lied and gave him a gentle squeeze with her wing.

“Perfect, it's settled then,” Haanith said while retracting his wing off Tiiphani and looking Meegi up and down with a look that Meegi couldn't quite place. “I think that red looks good on you, Meegi. But where we are going isn't that sort of place. Come, let me find someone to get you out of those pads, and we will get some proper food for you,” he added, looking over his wing at the cluster of humans packing away the discarded gear from the actual players. With little more than a glance and a twitch of his head, three of them stopped what they were doing and came jogging over.

“McDonald's… that's just insanity,” he muttered with a scoff under his breath.

---

Standing with both of his hind legs stretched back farther than usual, Meegi waited well after he had finished relieving himself to enjoy the fleeting moment of peace he had afforded himself. His limbs felt heavy, and it took conscious effort to keep his wings folded at his sides and to not let them droop down onto the bathroom floor. Although, judging by the smell of lavender and cloves, the calm relaxing music, and the fact that the large black and red tiles positively gleamed under recessed LED lights that ran across the ceiling and down the walls, Meegi mused that he had likely rested his wings on far worse surfaces. Closing his eyes and inhaling a slow, deep breath that expanded his lungs to their full potential, he held it for a pause and then slowly exhaled through his teeth in a gentle hiss. Slowly, he felt the tension in his mind ease.

He had told everyone that he just needed to stretch and had excused himself after they had ordered, but the truth was that he needed a moment alone not just to relieve himself but also to compose himself which might have taken longer than polite. It was only lunchtime, yet the day had so far taken so much out of him, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and the fact that he still had to be social enough to go shopping with Tiiphani and be a dutiful boyfriend later made his stomach sink. He knew he shouldn’t ask to go another day; after everything she and her father had done, that was impossible. The training session had been a dream come true, and for those precious few hours he had been happier than at any time he could remember. Even though it had only just happened, the memory of being treated as an equal by the dragons and dragonesses he idolised so much felt almost as if it hadn’t been real. Hearing them call his name during the drills, being partnered with Fiital for practising complex maneuvers, and seeing the genuine look of surprise on the star claimer’s face when he was able to almost keep up was something Meegi wouldn’t forget any time soon. He didn’t care if he wasn’t as fast as them or was out of position on a few occasions; the fact that they didn’t seem to slow for his benefit filled his exhausted chest with pride.

The sound of the restroom door opening and another patron needing to use the facilities brought Meegi back to his senses. Opening his eyes, he blinked away the fantasy in his mind and looked around the tidy cubicle to make sure both doors were locked. This restaurant had a standard layout for its dragon bathrooms, with a series of narrow but long stalls in the middle of the room with a lane on both sides. Having a door at each end of the stalls allowed dragons to enter and exit without needing to turn around and, as such, meant they could have more facilities next to one another. Unlike the places he had visited with his mother, the facilities in this prestigious restaurant seemed to have spared little expense for their guests. On top of the usual tapered hole in the middle of the floor for waste, the cubicle also included a copper-finished flexible shower wand for cleaning off any accidental splashback, as well as a shelf with a stack of small fluffy white towels to dry with and a basket to dispose of them in. It was a far cry from the McDonald's toilets Meegi tried hard not to use, where there was a simple roll of single-ply toilet paper and a hole in the floor that the patrons seemed to use as a suggestion rather than a target.

“Yeah, I know,” came the familiar voice of Haanith. His gruff baritone seemed to resonate even deeper in the tiled restroom. “But tell it to me straight, how exposed are we?” he continued, and Meegi quickly realised that the drake wasn't talking to him but was probably on his phone. With a clatter, the stall next to his own opened, and he heard the older drake fumble with the lock, likely securing it with his tail as he did.

A small part of him wanted to stay and eavesdrop, however, as he heard the rushing sound of liquids and the drake grunting in acknowledgement to whatever the other party was saying, Meegi tucked his wings against his sides and unlocked his cubicle from both ends. Stepping out of his cubicle, Meegi glanced at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror that made the room feel larger, and made sure that his member wasn't peeking out of his slit. He continued to pad around the corner of the cubicles and made his way toward the exit. His eyes widened in realisation that if Haanith was in here with him, that meant Tiiphani was alone with his mother, and he could only imagine the awkward silence hanging between them.

“Don't shut it down because he is green, you're better than that and we can lean into that. No, I get all that, I do. But you're talking like they are going to be a primary right away, we have time. If they aren't on par by the end of the season, we will move them along. They're cheap, practically free right now, so don't worry about the costs. Yes, yes, yes, I know, Yaaneh. That's why I'm asking you, I do value your opinion…” Haanith continued, causing Meegi to pause mid-step with his snout a foot away from pressing the door open. Haanith was talking to someone about a new player for the Cresties, someone green, and now his curiosity was getting the better of him. Meegi's ear twitched as he listened to the drake hum in agreement with the other party until the sound of his piss became a series of broken trickles. “Now you are overreacting, it's not like we will lose all three this season,” Haanith snapped with a sharpness in his voice that made Meegi's tail twitch. “And if we do, well, we can probably kiss the cup goodbye again anyway. I’ll handle Sarah, she only knows what she needs to know. Besides, what's the point of owning the fucking club if I can't do these sorts of things,” Haanith added with a small chuckle. “I've got a copy with me, but tell me if this is wrong and I won’t proceed…”

The sound of the lock to Haanith's cubicle door being thrown open was like a whip crack to Meegi, and with a quick press of his snout against the middle of the door, he opened it just enough to slink through and exited the restroom. Letting the edge of the door brush down the length of his tail as he walked, he made sure that it closed silently and then began to move as quickly as was polite back through the restaurant. He knew that Haanith would be right behind him, and he quickly took a turn to his right to take an indirect path back to their table. His mind began to race as to who the drake might have been talking about and who could be the potential new player for the team.

At the end of last season, there were a dozen or so players across the various teams who had exited the sport for various reasons. Some with injuries, others due to their contracts ending and wanting to leave without a permanent reminder of the violence of the sport. Out of all the players he could think of, the only green-coloured one was a dragoness from the Nixies, one of their reserve claimers who, if he recalled correctly, had mentioned in an interview that she was looking to start a family. It didn’t feel right that she would want to return to the sport so soon; however, what she had said during an interview could often be a misdirection. Shuffling his tired wings as he walked, Meegi resigned himself to finding out when Haanith or the team told him officially.

Taking another turn to perform a half orbit of the restaurant, Meegi glanced back toward the restrooms and saw the large drake finally emerge from the facilities and pause to tap on the phone he wore on his wrist. Not wanting to make the drake feel like he was being watched, Meegi stopped staring and instead looked around the room as he padded his way past the bar. Just like the restrooms, the restaurant was adorned with a sleek, modern, and stylish aesthetic. Polished timber floors stretched from end to end of the restaurant in a complex herringbone pattern, finished in a glossy varnish that somehow seemed impervious to the countless claws that had walked on it. The far walls had been finished in a deep black that at first looked as though it was simply designed to make the space look larger than it was, but upon closer inspection contained an intricate pattern of various dark grey shades. However, what Meegi found the most remarkable when he had first entered was the lighting. Spanning the entire ceiling, thousands of shards of illuminated glass all gradually alternated in height to create an illusion of the roof of a cave but made of speckled light. Each blade of light was perfectly spaced away from its neighbours to complete the illusion of a rolling countryside of light above them, and in doing so cast an even, warm glow across the patrons. Littered across the room, a mixture of tables at two distinct heights allowed for groups of dragons, humans, or a mix of both to sit and eat comfortably. Those designed for dragons consisted of low daybed-like seats with firm backs to lean against while lounging, which bore the same plush black cushions as the chairs for humans. Toward one end, a row of U-shaped tables circled dedicated cooking areas where trained chefs would cook elaborate dishes live for their patrons.

Rounding one of the many floor-to-ceiling glass, temperature-controlled wine cabinets, that both displayed countless bottles of expensive vintages and functioned as dividers for the different sections of the restaurant, Meegi spotted his mother and Tiiphani waiting at their table, with Haanith taking his seat across from Tiiphani. Lounging on one of the cushions with her tail half over where Meegi was sitting, Tiiphani looked bored and only briefly looked up to acknowledge her father returning before she resumed scrolling through her phone, which she had rudely laid on the table. In contrast, his mother beside her sat awkwardly on her haunches with her tail curled tightly around her paws and wings tucked close to her sides. Her whole posture screamed on edge, but she faked a smile in response to something Haanith said. Approaching the table, Meegi renewed his smile and dipped his head in greeting as his mother's eyes lit up, and took his seat next to Tiiphani. It had been the seat that Tiiphani had insisted he take, but he didn’t mind, as it allowed him to sit opposite his mother like they would have done if they had gone to McDonald's as they'd planned.

“Good stretch?” his mother asked, seeming to look right through his facade as her eye ridges narrowed briefly, as if to really ask if he was okay.

“Yeah, sorry, I could feel a cramp coming on. But I'm all good now,” Meegi replied before giving her a subtle nod to try and put her mind at ease. Glancing to his side at the phone Tiiphani was fixated on, he saw a dragoness he had seen on the screen before. What her actual colour was wasn’t clear to Meegi, as he had seen her showcasing all sorts of new kinds of scale paint. Today she was purple with a black-coloured spine that ran down the bridge of her snout and ended just below her nostrils, and she was showing off some sort of scale hydration product that didn't seem to affect her paint.

“You impressed a few people today, Meegi, you really did,” Haanith said cheerfully before lifting his head and looking across the dining hall to catch the attention of their waiter. “Coach Yaaneh has always been impressed with how you helped the team as an egg catcher, and today you really showed her your potential,” he added before clearing his throat and flashing a firm glare toward Tiiphani.

At her father's less-than-subtle suggestion, the scarlet dragoness looked up from her phone before tucking the device into a small pouch on the breast strap of her harness. “I told you he was good,” Tiiphani added with a cocky smile and brushed her tail against Meegi's. “Leagues above the rest at school, no way they would have even made it to the grand finals without him,” she added proudly, and Meegi couldn't help but slightly raise his head and let his chest puff with pride.

“It takes a strong set of wings to carry a whole team,” Haanith chuckled and nodded to the waiter as the man approached the table with a large bottle of wine held across his chest. “And today's performance should be rewarded…” he continued, and when the waiter looked between Meegi and Haanith, the older drake gave a stern nod.

Recoiling back slightly as the man filled a large, bowl-like cup for him with a red wine so dark that it almost looked black, Meegi glanced toward his mother, whose jaw had become incredibly tense as she looked between the glass and Meegi. “Uh… I’m not sure…” Meegi started, his words drifting off as the man finished and began filling one for Tiiphani, who didn't seem to care that she was still a few years underage for drinking.

“Oh, it's fine, Meegi,” Haanith replied and leaned back on his haunches to unbuckle the flap on one of the pouches attached to his harness. “It's your hatchday, and it's just a toast. You won't get drunk off one glass.”

“Not for me, thanks,” Meegi's mother interrupted as she placed a paw over her glass when the waiter came to fill hers. “I'll just stick to water. I'm working after this,” she explained, and when Meegi looked toward Haanith, he could see the drake's eyes narrow as if she had offended him in some way.

“Working on your son's big day?” Haanith retorted with a sour edge to his voice. “I mean, how very valiant of you. Are you sure I can't tempt you? This vintage is as old as the Cresties. You won't find anything more exquisite this side of the Atlantic,” he added in a poor attempt at correcting his rudeness. However, Meegi's mother shook her head with a determined expression and moved the glass further away from the waiter to emphasise her point. “Fair enough. Well, Meegi, I think before our meals come, now is a good enough time to give you a hatchday present,” he continued while extracting a crisp yet thick envelope from his pouch and passing it to Meegi with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, are we really doing this?” Tiiphani asked, and Meegi felt her tail coil with his excitement. When her father nodded, she let out a small squeal of excitement and grinned at Meegi with a knowing look. “Did you think it was just train–”

“Tiiphani, don't ruin it. Let the kid read it for himself,” Haanith corrected in a firm yet friendly voice and nodded toward the envelope in Meegi's paw. “This is still something you need to decide for yourself,” he added to Meegi warmly.

Meegi's breathing became shallow as he brought the envelope in front of him and spared a look toward his mother, who was now very focused on what the contents could be. With a trembling paw, Meegi turned over the envelope to see the embossed logo of the Coastal Cresties team. His heart skipped a beat and his tail went stiff in Tiiphani's grip as he used a talon to cut open the top of the envelope and extracted the folded stack of paperwork. Unfolding it on the table, the world around him ceased to exist. The noise from the restaurant became nothing more than a soft hum in the background, and the corners of his vision blurred as he stared down at the title of the document.

“You know what this means, champ?” Haanith asked, his voice breaking through Meegi's stunned mind and bringing him back to the restaurant. Blinking rapidly to try and focus his eyes, Meegi looked up from the paper just enough to nod and try to speak, but only managed an undignified croak. He quickly looked back at the paper as if it might vanish. “If you agree, we will have you as a reserve for a few seasons. I think with a bit more training, you will be ready for some airtime,” Haanith said proudly. “You really impressed us today, and like I said, Coach Yaaneh has had her eye on you since I brought you on.”

Meegi wobbled slightly on his cushion and used all of his paws to stabilise himself while keeping his neck bent to read the paperwork. The first few blocks of text were completely legalese, but moving on, the document confirmed what Haanith had said. A three-year contract with stipulations on his performance improving and a variety of other clauses that he skimmed over. He felt like he was salivating while also feeling his mouth bone dry, all while his heart pounded in his chest and his wings alternated between falling limp and tucking close to his sides. Tearing his gaze from the document, he looked up and saw his mother in a similar state of shock, albeit with a look of pride in her glossy eyes.

“I think you broke him, father,” Tiiphani giggled and used her tail to gently shake his own. Her joke earned a chuckle from the large drake and after a second, Meegi let out a delayed and exasperated laugh. It wasn't the reaction that he had expected to make, but while overwhelmed in the moment he couldn't help but match those around him.

“You don't have to sign it right away, but we would like an answer pretty quick,” Haanith started with more decorum and lifted his glass while lowering his head to take a sip of his wine. “It's a big decision to make,”

“Yes,” Meegi sputtered quickly and looked between all three of them. His mother's lips curled into a proud smile and she looked at him warmly, Tiiphani's eyes lit up at his affirmation while Haanith's took a more serious look. “I mean, yes… please. Sorry, this is huge!” Meegi exclaimed and looked down at the thick stack of paperwork.

“Meegi,” Haanith said directly, pulling his focus back from the papers. His tone cut through Meegi's excitement, and when he saw the lack of smile on the drake's snout, he quickly calmed himself and listened. “If you agree to this, your life won't be the same again. Do you understand?” he asked. When Meegi quickly nodded, he shook his head and continued. “There won't be any privacy, people will adore you, they will do things to try and get close to you. Your friends, your old schoolmates might show their true colours. Every aspect of your life will be measured and scrutinized by the public, and you will always be representing the Cresties, representing me. I have people that will help you, manage your personal life, and protect you from your old life. This isn’t a nine to five job, it will be infinitely more demanding than that. I will make sure you receive the best trainers, coaches, and personnel. But in return I expect everything from you. Do you understand?” he asked, his words doing little to dissuade Meegi's mind and only building on his eagerness to join. His training today was simply a taste of what was to come, and every fibre of his body longed for more. “This means there will be changes to your day-to-day life. You will train daily, both physically and mentally, studying plays, tactics, and formations. There will be no more sleep-ins, no more junk food, and most definitely no more McDonald's,” Haanith added with a small smirk.

Glancing instinctively at his mother, he caught a glimpse of a pained look before she coiled her neck back and renewed her warm smile. “This is what you’ve always wanted… Right?” she asked softly, and kept her eyes focused on Meegi. Like always, she didn't force him into anything, and instead Meegi felt as though she was offering him a way out that he could take if he needed to. However, looking back down at the paperwork, Meegi nodded.

Turning the page, he saw a series of figures and tried hard not to cough in shock. On top of the salary for being a member of the team, there were additional bonuses for becoming a primary player, as well as per-game bonuses, victory, MVP, finals, grand finals, and sponsorship bonuses. Each ranged in value, yet was always many times larger than the average yearly income of someone his age working a normal job. Doing the maths in his head, Meegi’s jaw parted as he realised that after just a few seasons even as a reserve, he would have accrued enough wealth to buy a house for his mother as well as set her up so that she didn't have to work again.

“Of course it's what he wants! Meegi, what do you say?” Tiiphani crowed, stretching her neck out to give him a kiss on his cheek before nuzzling under his jawline.

The touch made him flinch and snapped him back to his senses. “Yes. I mean, yes! This is… this is everything to me. Thank you!” Meegi stammered and looked toward Haanith, who nodded. Lifting his head back until his neck curled into an elegant S shape, the large red drake gave him a quick and subtle wink before taking another sip of his drink.

“Glad to hear it. Tomorrow will be your first day. We will need to do an induction. It will mean giving your phone to our social team. Their job is to help filter messages and pass on anything important to you. Like I said, you represent the team now, so I can't have you saying slurs in text, even if it's just jokes amongst friends. We will get you a new phone and number so you can talk to us and the team directly, but you will be surprised how many people will come out of the woodwork to ask for free tickets, handouts, or betting advice. It's just easier this way,” Haanith explained, as though he had given this same speech to many others. “Likewise, we will get you properly measured for a uniform and proper protection. If you want to meet up with your old friends, that's doable, but we will need to vet them first and we will organise the location. You never know when the paparazzi are going to snap a pic, and I don't want to see you getting up to mischief with anyone who is getting up to no good. It reflects badly on us if one of our players is hanging out with someone who turns out to be an egg fucker or something.”

Meegi hadn’t fully appreciated the lifestyle of the team until now, but he nodded in agreement. His social life had been dominated by Tiiphani recently anyway, so he reasoned that he wasn’t really losing anything. “No—yes! Of course. I can live with that,” Meegi replied quickly before swallowing and shaking his head. “We are all one team, right? I understand completely,” he added, earning a smile from the team’s owner.

“And of course there is a special clause in there just for you,” Haanith continued and nodded toward the paperwork. “Break my daughter's heart, and you’ll wish you were just cut,” he added while looking Meegi in the eyes. Pinned in his gaze, Meegi wasn’t completely sure if he was joking or not, but he breathed a sigh of relief when the drake finally smirked.

Having his career tied to his personal life wasn’t ideal, but he was already well aware that his success was tied to her. “Oh, well I don’t think there is any chance of that happening,” Meegi chuckled and looked at Tiiphani with a warm smile. Leaning to his side, he paused while she tilted her head to one side and then kissed her on the side of the snout. “This is incredible, I really don’t know what to say. Thank you!” Meegi added as he looked back down at the paperwork and then to Haanith and Tiiphani.

“You’ve earned it, and I know you won’t let us down,” Haanith added while holding his wine cup in one paw and lifting it up. “Welcome to the Coastal Cresties,” he toasted, causing Meegi to quickly collect his glass and raise it along with Tiiphani and his mother.

After clinking his glass with the others, Meegi went to drink before pausing and glancing once more toward his mother, who was drinking her water. The dragoness said nothing, but with a flick of her eyes and a deliberate blink, she gave him permission, and he politely took the smallest sip possible. Having never tasted wine before, he had no sense of what was good or not, but it was far smoother than it smelled, and only after he swallowed did he taste a fruity aftertaste. Humming in false approval, he placed down the glass and began returning the paperwork to the envelope so that it couldn't get ruined by their meal or a spilt drink. Leaning back on his haunches, he sized up the envelope compared to the small pouch he used as a wallet and realised that it wouldn't fit unless he folded it.

“Oh, um, here…” his mother started, mirroring his posture as she sorted through the many pouches she had nestled behind her foreleg. At first he thought that she was offering to carry it for him, but he was surprised to see her produce a rectangular-shaped present from one of her bags. Its wrapping had been crinkled in transit, and with a quick press of her paw, his mother resealed one of the ends that had come undone before passing it to him. “It's ah… not as amazing as that, I'm afraid,” she added, nodding toward Meegi's contract. “But I hope you still like it,” she continued as he brought the present to the table and began to unwrap it.

Beneath the wrappings, the gift felt soft and flexible, and as he peeled back the outer layers he saw dark leather with chocolate-brown stitching. Unwrapping it further, he smiled politely as he extracted a handsome leather pouch from within. Roughly briefcase-sized, it was a very practical pouch while still remaining slim and tidy. “Oh, it's beautiful. Where did you get it?” Meegi asked automatically as he unbuckled the strap and looked inside. Lining the interior was a silky tan colour that matched his scales, with individual pockets for money, his phone, pens, and a dedicated section for a notebook. Nodding as his mother explained she found it in the markets, Meegi ran a digit over the inside of the flap where his name had been stamped into the leather, and paused when he saw something curious about one of the inner pouches. Unlike the silver buckle on the exterior, the small snap fastener that kept the compartment separate was oddly purple with a silver inscription on its face. Written in bold, the words “9 Month Recovery” were centred in a triangle along with the motto of Alcoholics Anonymous. Inhaling a sharp breath of air, Meegi whipped his head up and looked toward his mother, who smiled weakly.

“Thank you, this is perfect.”