literature

PARAGON chap. 2

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CHAPTER 2

Alden took some time out of his afternoon to help Channing clean up the dishes he had dirtied while cooking. It didn’t take very long, and some of the foods could be combined into one big container and fit nicely into he crevices of the refrigerator. Some meat had been taken out of the freezer and placed on the counter to thaw, because that was the night’s dinner.

Dominic was sitting on the couch, stroking Frazer’s hair. The little puppy had fallen asleep close to twenty minutes ago, and stayed curled up next to his papa hoping for some affection. Jack and Daniel were both out cold as well, sleeping next to each other, their little chests rising and falling as they breathed. Frazer twitched, kicked softly at the air, and yipped, his tail thumping against the couch. Dominic smiled.

“Are you dreaming, little pup?” He asked softly, letting his hands fall still.

Spying through the little window, Alden gazed upon the papa dog with his own weird sense of pride. Seeing the sleeping pups, and knowing there were even more outside, made him wish his life was to his liking. After all, he had always wanted a large family. It seemed fate had no such thing in store for him. Even his oldest child was cursed. But he saw Dominic’s pups as his own.

Channing glanced to the side, and noticed the pensive frown on the snake’s pale face, but decided not to question it. Alden was always sort of aloof. Sometimes Channing didn’t know how to talk with him. Bertram always seemed to know what to say, but he was Alden’s soul match. They were actually made for each other. Of course they would get along.

He snuck a peek at the snake’s black tail. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to it, but the sight of it still made him think. It seemed like such a pain to haul that big tail around with you wherever he went. He wondered if it ever got in the way.

He blinked. Something in his chest nagged at him. He felt like speaking.

“…Is it difficult?” Not what he had in mind. But it was something.

“Not really,” Alden responded, not making eye contact but still involved in the conversation. “I assume you’re talking about this tail.”

Channing nodded. “Yes. I’m just wondering.”

The snake shook his head casually. “It’s a part of my body. It’s no different than my arms or my head. Just another appendage.” He set down the plate he was cleaning and looked over. “Isn’t it weird? When I look at you, I wonder how you walk on two legs. I don’t know how you balance.”

The blonde smiled, and tucked a piece of his curly hair behind his ear. “It just comes naturally.”

“I thought so.”

They finished the cleaning after several more long minutes. By the time they looked up again, their eyes went back to the couch and softened at the sight of Dominic and his puppies. There were several more of them, now, about eight of them, all cuddled up on the furniture and on the carpet where there was more room. Frazer was still wagging his little tail, and Teige was back to back with Finn. Ryan and Shea were sprawled out on two of the living room chairs like limp noodles. Donovan was lying on his back on the soft carpet, legs twitching as he chased the world in his dreams. The others had their backs turned, and were unidentifiable.

Channing sighed, feeling motherly.

Dominic’s head was limp and hanging down. He had fallen asleep just like his children, and was so still that he may have not been breathing. His ear twitched when a stray yelp and growl came from outside, but it did not wake him. The rest of his children were still running around outside, playing pirates and ninjas.

No one noticed Toby wander into the kitchen. They only turned around and saw him when the dragon’s tail clanked against the refrigerator. Channing got a little spooked, but Alden merely greeted him with a polite hello.

But Toby looked worried.

Channing was able to notice the emotion on his lover’s face almost immediately, and grew concerned. He put down the dishtowel he absentmindedly was holding, and walked over to Toby, placing a hand on his strong chest. “What’s the matter?”

He had trouble making eye contact for a half of a second.

Channing frowned. “Please, tell me. You look worried.”

Toby sighed through his nose. “That’s because I am,” he finally replied lifting his arm and massaging the back of his neck with his hand. He looked tense. “Benji has two bumps on his head. He says it hurts to touch them.”

“Bumps?” Channing questioned. He let his hand fall back down. “Where? Around where he hit his head?”

“No.” he gestured to his own head. “Right here, on both sides.”

It didn’t quite come together in Toby’s head, though he certainly had some suspicions. He wasn’t sure if he was right or not. His son was a dragon. Dragons had tails and horns. Benji had a tail, but his horns were still absent. Most likely, that was the problem. But he still had to know for sure. “Alden,” he said suddenly, hoping he would get an answer even before he asked the question.

The snake turned to him. “Hmm?”

“Do you know anything about how dragon horns grow in?”

Alden shook his head. “I don’t, sorry. But you can look it up online.” He placed a clean dish on the counter.

Toby scratched his head, thinking to himself. He was rather quiet for this time of night. Usually he was up and yelling at someone—Elliot, for the most part, took the full brunt of the hissy fit. Though he had gotten better at controlling his anger, he still went on a wordy rampage every once in a while. Now that he had a son—and not only that, but he was also living with other children—he had to be careful of his vocabulary. No one wanted the little ones to start cursing because they heard it from an adult.

Channing never cursed. He didn’t like it, not from his own mouth, and certainly not from that of his lover or his friends. It wasn’t appropriate, and frankly, it was an implication of a lack of vocabulary. Not that he saw Toby as stupid, because the dragon cursed a lot—he loved him very much. But it just wasn’t nice to hear.

The rest of the evening, Toby’s face was glued to the computer screen, his brain keeping him awake as he hoped to learn a little more about what a dragon was, exactly. He needed to be sure of himself before he knew what his son was going through.

Channing tried to help him, but he couldn’t do much of anything. He was no dragon. Espers didn’t have much to offer appearance-wise, besides the variation in pigment. Channing was a creature of fire, like his lover. His hands were black as soot, a harsh color that faded away by the time it hit his elbow joint, like his skin had been charred. The same pattern appeared from his toes to his knees. His eyes, too, where the whites were before, was a dark black pigment. But he faced ridicule—not from his family or friends, but from strangers, people he didn’t know or care to associate with. There was always talk of not belonging, or taking advantage, or hurting. Most of all, he felt hated, and didn’t know why.
He tried not to let it get to him whenever he went out in public with Toby or Benjamin. It would only make his loved ones worry if he started showing signs of embarrassment.

“Or,” Alden said suddenly, as if he needed to say it before his guests left the room. “You can call Damien.”

Toby was the first one to remember Damien. He learned to fly because Damien was there to give him the push he needed. Literally. He clicked his tongue. “You mean the bastard that pushed me off the roof?”

“He pushed you?”

Toby rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I remember now,” Channing chimed in, crossing his arms and leaning against the countertop. “The dragon who led you to Elliot? That’s Damien, right?”

Alden nodded. “That’s him. You may need to wait until tomorrow to invite him over. He’s with his husband’s family today having dinner. He may have already left. He usually brings his phone with him wherever he goes, but I don’t think he’ll want to answer it while he’s chatting with the in-laws.”

“That makes sense. It’d be rude to interrupt his dinner.” Channing sighed. “But I’m worried about Benji. I hope he’s not in a lot of pain.”

Toby reached over and put his arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. He told me it’s just a little tender. We can call Damien in the morning.”

Channing looked up, hugging himself gingerly. He made himself smile, forcing away some of his concerns. Of course everything would be fine. There was no need to be frightened. Every dragon had to go through this same thing. Hopefully he would gain some clarity within the next twenty-four hours.

Toby tucked his son into bed later that night, telling him not to touch the bumps on his head. A kiss on the forehead made him relax.

--

Nothing made the menace happier than a long night of adult fun with Channing. Especially when he woke up sore.

He rolled over, facing the blonde. He was still sleeping soundly, breathing slowly. His blonde curls fell over his face like golden wheat, and the scent of nutmeg wafted from the crook of his neck.

He reached out gingerly, brushing the hair out of his lover’s face with a gentle finger.

Channing stirred, grumbling attractively and nuzzling his head into the pillow. A slender hand grasped the covers and pulled them up close to his chest. His eyes flickered open, slowly, so as not to absorb much light. He smiled, glowing. “Good morning.”

Toby let his lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Good morning.”

Channing changed position, giving his legs a little stretch. He moved his shoulders, and let the covers slide down his bare white chest enough to expose the scar over his left breast. Toby liked to stare at that scar. He didn’t know why. Channing seemed immune to the reaction. “Did you sleep well?” He asked, his eyes open the usual halfway.

Toby stared deep into his lover’s bright blue eyes, and leaned in for a kiss. The blonde started to say something, but his voice was muffled, and his tongue was occupied. It was a short kiss, but a soft one.

“I’m still sore,” the blonde muttered sensually. “You scoundrel…” He reached out to stroke the dragon’s cheek, then kissed him again.

They gave themselves time to kiss each other awake. Channing ran his fingers along Toby’s horns, because he knew it aroused him. If someone hadn’t knocked on the door, they would have taken it further. But Channing, fearing they would be seen, gently pushed Toby away at arm length and brushed his hair out of his face. “One second, please.”

“Mama?” came a small cry from the other side of the door.

It was Benjamin, and he didn’t sound happy.

Channing knit his brow. “Honey?” He got out of bed, dressed in only his panties. “Sweetheart, let me get dressed, okay?”

He glided to the dresser and pulled out a baggy shirt and a pair of exercise shorts, the first two articles of clothing he could grab. He pulled the shirt over his head as quickly as he could manage and yanked the shorts over his underwear. The door was all that stood in the way of him and his son, and that wasn’t about to slow him down. He made sure Toby was decent before he opened the door and leaned over and across the threshold.

Benjamin, at the sight of his mama, reached out and pleaded without words for a hug. Channing immediately accepter, and pulled the boy gently into his arms. The blonde stroked the back of his son’s head, caressing his short black hair. “Good morning, baby.”

“Mama,” he sniffled, shivering with tiny sobs.

Channing felt a pang of worry. He pulled away after a few more slow seconds, and examined his son’s face. Tears were present, along with flushed cheeks and a pair of shockingly swollen temples. The young mother used all his self-control to keep his face calm and reassuring, but he was a wreck on the inside. “Benjamin, your…you’re swollen.”

He began to cry harder, bringing up his hands to protect the two red lumps.

Channing turned around. “Toby, come here, please.”

Through Benjamin’s whimpering, Toby got the message—not only that, but the tone in Channing’s voice was just shaky enough to indicate confused anxiety. Toby swung his legs over the side of the bed and hurried his way over, careful not to look rushed or nervous, which would frighten his son. He leaned down beside Channing, and tried a reassuring smile. However, all that he could manage was a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Benjamin, in tears, turned to his papa and finally let out the sobs that had been bouncing around inside his chest. The poor boy pawed at his eyes, furiously wiping away the tears that just kept coming.

“Hey, now,” Toby said quickly, taking his son in his arms to try and stop the weeping. “Come on, little man, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

By this time, the crying child had caused such a commotion that people were coming out of their rooms. Claude was the first, followed close behind by Elliot—who was still in a drowsy stupor, rubbing one eye—and then by Nathaniel from the room around the corner.

Claude spoke up, though not before yawning. “What’s happening?”

But Channing waved a hand at him, giving him the silent ‘not now’. He was in the process of turning back to the scene beside him when he spotted the snake out of the corner of his eye and averted his attention away from his son. He jumped to his feet, shuffling over. “Nathaniel?” He was a bit frantic by this point.

He blinked slowly. “What?”

“Are your parents awake yet?”

It took a minute, but Nathaniel was able to process the question and answer with a nod. He directed the frantic esper downstairs, where Bertram and Alden were setting up breakfast.

Bertram was the first to notice Channing running down the stairs, and left his work station to inquire what in the world was going on. He didn’t get a chance to speak, though, because the blonde beat him to it.

“Do you have Damien’s number?” The poor mother was out of breath and weak in the knees. Now out of his son’s earshot, he was free to let loose his panic.

The snake knit his brow. “I do. I assume you need it right now?”

“I-I, yes. Please. That would be great.” He stuttered, face red, legs and fingers shaking. “Benjamin came into our room crying. His temples are swollen and he’s in a lot of pain. I’m really worried, so please, I’d like to get in contact with Damien as soon as possible.”

“Call him, dear,” Alden said suddenly, not looking away from the dishes, directing the order at his husband.

Channing walked into the living room to relax but couldn’t bring himself to sit down. He ended up pacing while Bertram explained what was happening. The conversation barely lasted a minute, but it felt like a millennium to Channing. The ten-minute wait for the dragon to arrive were what seemed the longest moments of Channing’s entire adult life.

There came a noisy clatter upon the roof of the house, and the reptilian couple both rolled their eyes at the same time.

“Would it kill him to use the front door?”

Channing ran back up the stairs and into the tower arch, climbing up the ladder that led to the exit on the roof. He poked his head out of the opening, not expecting anything quite as shocking as a face six inches from his own. With a yelp, he tumbled down the ladder, landing on his back.

“Ah!” Damien exclaimed, just as surprised, wings still unsheathed.

The ladder was only about five feet tall, but the fall still knocked the wind out of Channing. He struggled to get up until Damien gave him a hand. A few seconds of coughing happened, and then a long silence while the dragon politely waited for the esper to calm down. But Channing had other ideas.

“Oh thank god you’re here! Oh!” He stumbled, but managed to catch himself on the wall. “I don’t know what to do. Benjamin’s crying and I don’t think Toby is helping him at all, he can’t stand it when he sees his son cry. E-even when his son was born, the poor fool couldn’t speak, just stare and blush a little—eh, no, you’re not here to listen to me ramble. I’m in a predicament. Well, not me, my son. You see, his horns are growing in and both his temples are red and swollen and he’s in pain so please—oh, dear—”

Damien chuckled.

Offended, Channing opened his mouth, and wanted to speak but was cut off by a wave of the hand.

“Calm down, Channing. You’re gonna give yourself an aneurism.” He put his hands on the frightened parent’s shoulders. “It’s not as bad as you think. You don’t have to worry.”

Channing covered his face with embarrassment and realization, both at the same time.

“All right, then,” Damien nodded. “Take me to him. Yeah?”
AHHH I'm sorry this is so fucking late.

I just haven't had the time to write. Enjoy this chapter, though. I don't know when I'll be able to get the next one up, but wait for it! I have a lot of plans for this trilogy :heart:
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