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Taking a holiday by himself was probably not the ideal solution to a breakup.

A recent breakup.

Well, a sort of recent breakup. It was a big one, at least. She had been half of Dustin's whole life for several years, then left, without any explanation. Dustin was left blaming the feeling that had built up over the years they were together that Dustin wasn't enough. She'd never quite said 'you aren't enough', of course, not that directly, and not in so many words.

She'd said, 'this isn't enough', instead. About a lot of things. Dustin had hopped to, acting on everything he was told, but the reality was that he wasn't enough. It wasn't anything about what he did or didn't do. It wasn't money, or the sex, or his career, or the emotional support he provided her, or any one thing. It was Dustin himself.

Sage, Dustin's therapist, hadn't advised against taking the holiday, exactly. He'd only advised against taking such a long time on his own. Dustin still felt a residual warmth and calm whenever he thought of the snake's advice. It wasn't just the memory of his eyes or his gentle voice that gave Dustin that feeling - the human really was getting better, getting a little more confident each session.

Dustin was to spend two weeks out at sea, on a forested island. The climate was the tropical end of temperate. Everything there was lush, and green, almost year-round. The weather was binary: either it was perfectly clear, or wracked by fierce thunderstorms. The hotel Dustin stayed in (which they had always stayed in, whenever they came here) had all the amenities he could want,

Dustin knew the most isolated place on the island, and he knew how to get there, all the food and equipment he needed to pack. Maybe it was silly, but he wanted that place for himself, now that she was gone. He wanted that happiness to be his.

At his age - the right end of 26 - he had no bother getting there physically, either. Dustin wanted to prove to himself that he could be alone. He could take care of himself, go places, be happy. Sure, he wanted to marry someday, but he needed to stand on his own before that happened.

All he needed to wear was a shirt, shorts and sandals. Dustin zipped everything he needed into his small rucksack - then paused for a second, and took out the sunscreen, and applied it liberally to his face, arms and legs. The Summer wasn't at its height yet, but it was getting there.

From the hotel door, he turned right into the Mediterranean-styled street -- though he wasn't in the Mediterranean -- and walked down the hill to the South. The view from here was sublime. The sea was glittering so much in the sun that he couldn't really see the boats or the swimmers. They wouldn't be a problem for long. Almost no tourists went as deep into the forests of the island, or as high up, as Dustin was going.

Except he made eye contact with someone on the way down the hill, on the road. An elderly couple, who once hosted Dustin and his old love, instantly appeared in front of him, and insisted he come in and take tea, and lunch, and desserts, and... it had seemed pretty late for lunch, but whatever, it was kind of them. Very kind, especially as she'd been doing most of the talking last time and Dustin had never given much of an impression of himself. They assured him he'd get a girl in no time, and winked. Both of them. It was confusing, but flattering.

What did they know that he didn't?

Dustin's friend, Jay, kept insisting Dustin was hot, at least above average. That never really made sense to Dustin, but then, since meeting her, he'd not gone looking.

Back on his way, hours after he'd been kindly accosted, Dustin walked down that steep road and onto a long dusty road that ran along the shore of the island. He was rounding the edge of it, now, crossing onto the side that was most protected from the waves and wind. The crashing and whipping faded away with the buildings, replaced by calm breezes, a slow lapping at the shore in time with his breath, and, now that it was quiet enough, birdsong. The peace made his thoughts louder. He remembered her, then tried not to. He remembered the birds here, and their vivid colours, but he couldn't see them now. That was okay. He was, at least, alone.

From here, Dustin began the uphill climb to his destination. There was a wide, meandering path from this side of the island up to the top of the mountain. Few tourists ever went -- for all but the most athletic, it meant exposure to the elements in a way most of them hadn't signed up for. The path became less beaten and rough, and more complete, more clearly bricked, as most of the tourists had pulled back before that height. As the architecture of the road became more complete, however, it also became overgrown. The sides of the road were thick with creepers waiting to flood the path, and thick, old, deciduous trees fattened the further uphill Dustin went.

Perhaps the soil was more fertile here than towards the foot of the hill, or something. There was also more vegetation on this side of the island than the other. This was the South-Eastern side of the island, after all, and it got the most sun.

It had grown hotter, so Dustin removed his shirt, applied another layer of sunscreen, and kept going.

The birdsong became louder on the second curve of the zig-zag path. He always felt defeated by this island, no matter how many times he'd climbed to the very top. (With her.) But he was alone, so it should have been easier.

Motivation just wasn't coming, though, so he put his headphones in, pressed 'shuffle', and kept going. The road was now so thickly overgrown with lianas and ivy that it seemed more a jungle around him than a forest. Dustin turned around...

...and saw the great spiky shadow of the islands and its islets on the sea, as the sun began to set. (He had a torch with him. He would be fine.) He took a short break, just to look at the sea as it slowly changed from cyan to cobalt.

Then he set off again, and after what seemed like longer than it was, he reached his turning point - a bit of the wall was actually the start of another, completely covered path, but the ivy had swallowed it up ages ago and it just looked like a bit of wall now. While the road had basically been reclaimed by the forest, it was flat enough to walk on. Now off the main path, the forest closed in on Dustin, brushing and scratching as he pushed through the vegetation. The increased sensation made the journey easier, allowing him to shove any memory of her, of other people, from his mind for now. It was just him, the trees, the birds, and nature.

Life wasn't over, the island was telling him. Rainstorms and sun kept coming. It wasn't that important, cosmically, that the woman he loved had left him. The solitude made him feel like he could heal.

Only, when he got to his spot - the dusty clearing with the little spring and the ruined shrine - it was covered in snakes.

There weren't any venomous snakes native to the island. Dustin and his girlfriend had checked that, years before, when they first came. However, these snakes were bigger than the usual ones he saw in the ponds. Far longer, with fatter heads. He walked carefully between them, to the ruined shrine, and sat down. At least there weren't any people.

"You've not brought your lady," a voice said above him. God damn it.

"Back off," Dustin snapped, but looked up, and saw a human-like face. Human-like, except for the gold and brown scales covering it, and the wide, unblinking eyes. This was a Naga - a snake-human - as opposed to just a snake who was a person, like Sage. As opposed to creatures like Sage, Naga were more innately supernatural, and generally a little more tricksy.

Dustin blinked, and saw more of the same gold-brown scales in broad ropes wrapped around the columns of the shrine, the branches of trees... one of the tails in the clearing had the same colour, with the same black patterns over it. The Naga was enormously long.

"Oh, I... I'm sorry, I. I wasn't thinking, I'm."

"Dustin," said the Naga, finishing his sentence. He slithered (a small portion of) his body down the shrine's ruined column in a spiral, to be level with the man. "I'm from here, you know. We remember our regulars on this island - and we all talk."

True enough, he had the local accent. One of the snakes crawled up to Dustin, flicking its tongue at him, but it seemed to lose interest and slither away.

"Then I'm sorry," Dustin sighed. "I suppose I must be trespassing, sir."

"No, no. We like visitors." The Naga had long hair, and long beard, so it was hard to tell how old he was. His eyes had two long brown 'teardrop' markings which ran horizontally from either eye, and one down his forehead to his nose. His tail had shifted to brush Dustin's calf, and he moved his leg away from the soft touch.

This guy's scales were different from Sage's, somehow just as dry, but more slippery.

"Forgive me for interrupting you," he continued, "but you look like you need a friend, Dustin, not a view."

The Naga's humanoid body was held at an angle in front of Dustin, lowered from his own tail like a crane. Now, Dustin noticed two green snakes coiled around each of the Naga's shoulders, like living pauldrons. Both were looking at him with the same unblinking but gentle stare that the guy did.

"I don't know you," Dustin said, trying to be polite. I want to be alone, he didn't say.

"Oh, but you will. It's easy to know me -- I'm very simple," the stranger laughed. It was oddly charming. "Very simple indeed. Let me at least try to make you feel at home."

"What's your name?" Dustin asked. The stranger's tail brushed his wrist on the ground... no, it was one of the snakes. Dustin let it crawl up his arm to his neck.

"I'm Typhon," the stranger said. The sun was setting, and there was a curiously bright moon coming into view already. "It's a very old name, you know. It's from not far from here. It means something special." His face was right in front of Dustin's face, now, close enough to kiss him, but Dustin frowned, still on guard.

"What does it mean?" Dustin said.

"Stupefying," and bright blue vapour flowed from the Naga's nose into Dustin's face, "smoke."

It wasn't, quite, stupefying, but as Dustin spluttered, he felt a strange opening sensation in his mind. It was like he was falling asleep, but completely aware and capable - he moved his arms and legs to test that he could. No, he was fine. He was awake. He was just increasingly, irrevocably, at peace, and... that feeling was fading, at the same speed as it came.

"What...?" Dustin shook his head, but while the feeling of being pulled down into a... well, a stupor, was gone, he still felt very relaxed. And Typhon smiled, and put his finger under Dustin's chin, and blew a little ball of blue towards him. It splashed against his mouth, and he breathed it in, and sighed, happily.

"Just a little magic trick, Dustin," Typhon whispered. As he spoke, he sent further little puffs of the blue to Dustin. A purple puff burst on his neck, and was absorbed inside him... and he felt a strange kind of acceptance. Red entered his navel... and pure comfort radiated from there. Two more blues hit and slid directly into his ears, enthralling him just a little more.

The effects were strongest just after he breathed them in, but they seemed to linger at a low level, twining around and enhancing each other's effects, swirling round in him like a slow cyclone.

"Breathe and focus, Dustin. My friend. My Dustin." It felt strangely correct to be addressed like that. "Every breath makes you a little calmer, right now, doesn't it?"

There was going to be a point where Dustin's hyper-aware, relaxed state would make him a little too accepting of whatever anyone said to him. Dustin rode the feeling, but his nervousness won out, and he blinked himself back up -- at great effort.

"That's... that's weird, don't do that without asking me, man," Dustin said, standing up. He almost kneed Typhon in the face doing so. He walked over to the - and of course Typhon's coils were in the way of him leaving. Dustin stopped. He felt afraid.

"Okay," Typhon said, raising himself up. He let his lengthy body spill down from the pillar and branches onto the ground. He was so smug - so strangely, gently smug, knowing he had Dustin surrounded. "It felt good, though, right? There's more I can do. It can't hurt you, like drink or drugs. You need to be distracted, my friend. You need to be entertained. Let me show you another trick, okay?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes. Tell me to go, and I will go." Typhon shrugged, and grinned to him. Somehow, Dustin believed that, and the fear from before started to fade. This guy was only after a bit of fun, and company. Typhon took Dustin's hand, gingerly. "If you don't want me gone, let me show you my other magic, and you will feel better. I can do it without smoke, next, if you'd like."

"You said it won't hurt me like alcohol. Will it hurt me at all?" Dustin couldn't believe he was about to consent to this. His therapist's hypnosis was one thing, but he knew what Sage wanted to the letter. Typhon talked about making him feel better, but Dustin couldn't help but suspect Typhon would get a lot of pleasure out of this, too.

"No, Dustin, I wouldn't do that," Typhon said, and again, Dustin believed him. He knew from past and recent experience what it felt like to have his mind interfered with. He was making this decision based on Typhon's body language and tone, not some enchantment. The serpent-man seemed -- honourable, in an odd way. "It's magic, not a drug."

"...can I stop if it gets too much?"

"You can." Typhon circled Dustin, and more and more of himself was coming and curling and squirming forward to the two of them, while the other snakes slithered up and over Typhon gracefully, as though decorating him. Sure enough, some wrapped around his forearms like gauntlets, two around his head like a crown. The snake on Dustin had gone - it was Typhon's tail, now, that sat on his bare shoulder. "I don't know if you will, but you can. Go on, boy."

Dustin shuddered. God help him, but he wanted this.

"Okay," he whispered - well, half-whispered under his breath, hoping Typhon wouldn't hear, or know.

But he had said it, so it started.

The green snake on Typhon's left shoulder raised its head and stretched out towards Dustin. They made eye contact, its yellow into Dustin's green. Then, it opened its mouth wide, and let its tongue hang down... and on its lower jaw, from what seemed to be a windpipe, a little flame happened. Like a candle, or oil lamp.

It was dark, now, and this flame instantly took up Dustin's vision. He blinked, a little, dazzled, and the light in the snake's maw shrank down to a small red drop of fire.

"Comfy?" his friend asked. Typhon's tail slithered from its single curl around Dustin's shoulder down around his chest, round his back... He gripped the end in one hand, and frowned, but he kept looking at the red drop. The feeling of Typhon's scales on his skin was very, very strange - another difference from Sage was that Dustin was, usually, fully clothed when the therapist cuddled him.

"Yes," he admitted, eyes glazed. The red drop was flickering so slowly, so softly, that Dustin could see its every move. It was smokeless, just like Typhon had promised.

"Of course you are," Typhon said, his voice lowering. "We pride ourselves on our hospitality here, you know. You are a new friend, but you are wanted, and welcome. Doesn't it feel good to know that?"

"Yes," Dustin said. "I... I'm lonely."

"I know." Typhon's hand squeezed the hand Dustin thought was holding the Naga's tail - which continued its slow, rounding descent down the man's body. He was soothed by the flame, and weighed down by the squamous trunk sliding over him. He had begun to breathe more through his mouth.

Typhon's smile stretched further than a human's would.

"And it's not allowed for you to be lonely," he added, in a sing-song voice. Dustin sighed, feeling weirdly relieved, and never took his eyes off the red flame. Nothing else mattered. Typhon's tail curled around Dustin's hips and thighs, sliding between just once before resuming the quest downwards. "You're not alone, after all. You've got me. That's good, right?"

Typhon wrapped around Dustin's ankles, and his tail just... kept going, slithering away so thicker and thicker coils piled down and around Dustin's body. Typhon was endless, it seemed. Dustin wasn't being squeezed, yet... just weighed down more and more by the fluidly sliding body. He was lifted a little, and turned over, still looking at the green snake's red flame, still sinking deeper into his happy trance.

"Yeah, it is good," Typhon said. His hands nonchalantly began undoing Dustin's sandals, and he gently kissed an ankle as he let the shoes fall to the ground, along with the tourist's bag. "My lonely boy. You just need what everyone needs." The more time went on, and the longer Dustin stared into the red flame, the truer Typhon's words became in Dustin's head. "You need to be held."

Now that the very thickest part of Typhon' body was wrapped around Dustin from neck to foot, he was squeezed... almost crushed. The pressure was like a very affectionate bodybuilder, though Typhon's upper body hadn't seemed especially built. It didn't need to be. Dustin sighed out, and breathed in... and let his breath out, and felt Typhon tighten further.

"There's something very satisfying for you primates about being held, it always seems to me," Typhon whispered in his ear. Dustin couldn't see, but the green snakes were emerging directly from the Naga's shoulders - they were parts of his body. The one with the red drop slithered over and held it right in front of Dustin's eyes, while its coils snuck under Dustin's chin and around his neck. "Something about contact that you absolutely cannot do without. So, this, with my body around your body, must be like eating after a long fast, right, Dustin?"

He felt that satisfaction before Typhon finished saying it, but now he felt it more. Dustin nodded. As the pressure grew, so did his happiness, his sense of place.

He blinked, though.

Something was wrong. Typhon was rubbing his feet. Wrapped around him so tightly he couldn't get out... he was trapped. That was - that may have been what Typhon wanted all along, right?

Fighting both the red flame's soothing effect, and the even more drugging effect of his all-over massage, Dustin breathed in deeply....

"That's it, no fighting, Dustin," Typhon whispered, and it almost put Dustin past the point of no return. "We'll paint you, next, I think. You'll enjoy looking like me. You'll enjoy your own beauty, too."

Dustin huffed, and put the red flame out.

Typhon grunted in pain, stunned, and dropped Dustin to the ground. It seemed like an overreaction, but then Dustin had never sucked a flame back into his throat. He was still wrapped in the serpent-creature's coils, but no longer being squeezed. While Typhon investigated the blown-into maw for injury, the young human scrabbled to get himself out of his captor's dry-oily grip, pushing them with his arms and legs.

After pushing the last bit off him with both legs, Dustin ran off into the forest.

What was that about? Dustin ran along the mountain and expected to lose the snake-creature on the way. What was he? Dustin had left his sandals back there, but now he was in the mossy forest on the hill where no-one went, so he didn't have to worry about stones or broken glass, probably. His bag was back at the shrine, too, along with his compass, shirt, and phone. He couldn't call for help, if he even needed it. The townsfolk were all the way on the bottom of the island, on the other side. The sun was down, and while the moon lit the shrine beautifully, it was somewhat less helpful under the thick canopy of the forest.

The exhausted boy sat at the base of a broad tree and tried to think of what to do. As he got his breath back, his fear faded.

He wasn't certain Typhon meant him harm. Dustin had just freaked out when he realised how helpless he was. Really, with all of Typhon's coils and bulk and magic, Dustin was helpless just by being in his company. That had felt good, but the fact that Typhon could have hurt him, and that Dustin couldn't do anything about it, wasn't quite as soothing.

If he was honest, though, that restraint had felt kind of good, too. The loss of control. Like being a child again, or like being with a very strong loved one. His whole body still felt good, and loose, and pleasant, now, still ringing a little from Typhon's tight squeeze. He remembered the safety of the red drop, and he wanted it back. He remembered the sleepy safety of the blue smoke, and he wanted it back.

He was hard.

His mind raced, fantasising about being chased and caught, about never being able to escape... and he thought he should be scared, hyperventilating, should be panicking, but no. He was just hard.

There was nothing he could reasonably do about that, really.

Dustin breathed deeply, and tried to calm down. He'd have seriously offended that Naga-magician, now, and possibly the entire island. Even if he was a mystical, otherworldly nonhuman, everyone knew everyone here. Dustin might not even get to come back.

And really, it hadn't felt that bad. It had felt amazing.

"Now, Dustin," Typhon said, diplomatically, into Dustin's hair. The boy yelped and jumped up - right into Typhon's face. "Ow! More violence. Did I upset you, earlier?"

Dustin looked up to see the enormous tree he was sitting against was now awash in Typhon's coils. That was fast. How did Typhon get here so quickly? How long had Dustin even been here? In the moonlight, the gold wasn't so clear on his former captor's skin, but its reflectiveness was still obvious, and the intricate, symmetrical blotches of brown along them now shone black.

The end of Typhon's tail curled around Dustin's knee, because of course it did. What else could Dustin expect at this point?

"Did I come on too strong, perhaps...?" Typhon lowered himself down from the tree, so that he was face to face with the boy again.

No. Dustin was a man. Not a boy.

Dustin grit his teeth and frowned, unsure of what to say. Typhon playfully blew a grey smoke ring into his face...

...and Dustin felt like he was wide awake. Like he'd had just the right number of cups of coffee. He had been sleepier than he thought.

"I want you to ask me before you do stuff like that," Dustin said, very quietly. "I couldn't... I couldn't get out, when you were wrapped around me."

"No," Typhon said, "you couldn't."

"I need. I need to know you'll stop if I want you to, but I couldn't tell you anything, when I was entranced, like that. When you squeezed me so hard." Dustin folded his arms. Typhon's tail squeezed his knee, but not insistently. It was more like an encouragement to continue than a grope. His touch was very soft when he wanted it to be. "If I'm trapped, you could hurt me."

"Mm," said Typhon judgmatically, "but that's the whole point of it all, Dustin... you're lonely. You need taken care of." Besides that he was dodging the gist of what Dustin said, there was something very odd in the way Typhon told him that. An echo. Like someone else was talking at the same time. That smooth tail brushed down his calves, weighing Dustin's knee down to the ground. "I can only promise not to hurt you. If I see or smell pain on you, I will stop."

"I'm not sure," Dustin said, looking away.

"Then...," the tail flickered upward, brushing Dustin's thigh, "let me prove it to you. Just trust me once... it won't hurt. There's no harm. There's no shame."

The helix of Typhon's body had been very tight around him... but Dustin had been relieved by it, not hurt.

Once more, he nodded, feeling small, and a little happy. In fact, a little smile poked up on his face. Typhon smiled even more widely - his mouth glowed red from within - and he took Dustin's hands to lift him to his feet. He'd not had the courtesy to give the boy's sandals and bag back. Maybe he hadn't taken them.

The Naga lay his hands onto Dustin's bare shoulders, and smeared two long blotches of brown ash up and over them, and thumbed a spiral into both.

The pattern, he realised, mimicked the snakes on Typhon's shoulders. When the snake-man reached his thumbs for Dustin's face, he closed his eyes and breathed. Typhon gave him three slender teardrops, from his eyes and down his forehead, and it felt good. Where the ash touched him, Dustin felt a strangely soothing tingle.

It wasn't too intense, yet, that feeling.

"You okay with more smoke?"

"Huh? Yeah?"

Typhon breathed in, and blew a funnel of green smoke over Dustin as his hands continued to rub the oval and tear-drop shaped markings into his skin. The ash on him flashed a bright green, and Typhon's hands on him felt like heaven, and wished he'd never brought his shorts, never worn anything. The feeling of the air and smoke and hands on his skin became intensely pleasurable to the point of agony.

Slowly, meandering piles of Typhon's coils slithered down from the branches and wrapped Dustin up again, pushing him down onto the moss while he feebly sighed and wriggled. Typhon continued his work marking the boy, holding this wrist still with one hand, this ankle. All Dustin could hear over the blood in his ears was Typhon's gentle words and indulgent laughter.

Eventually, the intensity of that green smoke's effects faded. Or, perhaps he was getting used to it. Idly, Dustin ran his hands and arms over Typhon's body as it shifted around and manipulated him. Every touch was that much better now, that much more satisfying. He wasn't focused on anything but Typhon. He wasn't thinking about anyone else.

Just Typhon. His friend. He moved up halfway through his back's being painted with the ash, and clutched at his friend. He shoved his face into Typhon's chest, relishing the feeling of the natural mail that covered the Naga.

Typhon just wrapped one arm around his upper back, and continued to work on Dustin's lower back with his other hand.

And, eventually, Dustin nearly kissed him - nearly pressed his lips onto the Naga's scaly skin, between his pectorals. Typhon hummed, happily, and nodded to him, so Dustin did as he pleased, once, twice, and another, higher up Typhon's chest.

"Eager, huh," Typhon whispered. The smoke's effects had been enhanced by the markings on Dustin's skin - as would those of any of the smokes in Typhon's repertoire would be - but they were shortened, to make up for that intensity. Dustin was acting of his own free will. He may not have known that, however. Typhon wrapped his hand around the back of Dustin's neck, and his long, forked tongue traced over Dustin's lips before the snake-creature pulled him in and pressed their lips together.

It was the longest kiss of Dustin's life.

While the human eagerly tried to touch Typhon in return, he found himself fighting with more of the Naga's coils, and being bound again. Squeezed again. Helpless. Every now and then, Typhon would close his mouth, and huff a little of his smoke into Dustin... he was inundated with hypnotic blue, and the dark oval ash markings on him flared the same blue, as he was entranced. And Typhon kissed him, swaying the two of them together.

He was flooded with ecstatic green, and that didn't lead Dustin to need anything more sexual than their kiss -- he just lost his concentration from his skin feeling too good. And Typhon kissed him, rubbing his shoulders and keeping him steady.

At the end, Typhon blew a small bit of waking grey into Dustin's face, and his mind was cleared. He knew, after the kiss and the many different smokes, that the feelings he felt were his own - a mood, rather than something given to him.

Dustin stared up into the man's unblinking eyes, and felt himself lifted up a little, again -- and dropped!

He stuck his hands out and stood on them, on Typhon's fat snake-body, the coils round his body having loosened enough that they were just touching him instead of holding him up. He felt Typhon's hand push the small of his back a little, and he landed on his belly on more of Typhon held up to catch him. This section was raised up... and up... into the trees.

Dustin could have reached for the branches, but he trusted Typhon, so he let himself be turned around. He slid down the broad, scaly back, slid around a corner, stumbling onto his feet on yet more of the endless Naga. Typhon took his hands, and steadied him, but turned them around, and around... and wrapped his tail around Dustin's ankle again, lifted him upside-down, and dropped the human into yet another binding spiral of himself.

"Typhon, please," Dustin whispered, but he didn't know what he was begging for. Typhon held him close. He dug his face into the hollow of Typhon's neck. "Please."

"I know," Typhon said, "I'm not going anywhere." He laughed a little, right into Dustin's hair. "I live here, you know." Somehow, despite the kiss, Dustin knew he wasn't going to take this any further. This was what he'd wanted.

There was a short, muffled buzz above them.

"You brought my phone?" Dustin asked.

"Your bag, and your sandals," Typhon murmured. "Wouldn't want you to sand on a bottle back in town."

"...Can I have it? For a second? The bag? Please?"

"You people and your phones." Typhon bumped the bag down from the tree, and held it out to Dustin - who couldn't take it, because his arms were still bound. Typhon grinned, and unwound from around Dustin's upper half.

"Jerk," Dustin said, while he checked the notification - just a text from his father.

"Is it urgent?"

"No," Dustin said, "my dad just sold his old house." Typhon's fingers slid into Dustin's hair, again, and stroked him. Looking down at his phone, Dustin had seen his own chest, and the ash wasn't coming off or smearing with the coils over him.

"Congratulations," Typhon said, with a warm smile and almost no interest. In fact, there was little understanding. Perhaps Typhon just lived in the wild. Or in a cave.

Dustin popped the phone into his bag.

"Am I going to look like this for a long time, man?"

"It'll come off when you have a bath. None of my children are around, so no-one else will breathe anything onto you... though, er, the people know who I am, so they'll know we've become acquainted. You mustn't be embarrassed. They won't hassle you for it."

That old couple winking at him... Dustin shook his head.

"It's not embarrassing," he said. "It's like I was at a party."

"It's a little early for parties to stop," Typhon said, though it must have been the small hours by then... that was just how it was on this island. "Stay here, for now."

"Sure," Dustin said, and snuggled into his friend's coils like a bed, enjoying how they pinned his arms.

He heard a puff...

...and all he could see was blue.