Our fat dragon finds new purpose as he becomes intrigued by the research lab that hired him. But his rival is there too, and Arro has to tread carefully to maintain their rocky truce. And his own waistline.
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A SFW chapter

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Kill, Marry, Fuck
Chapter 5



Arro didn’t want to get up. Well, he did want to be up, but the getting up part was the part he had trouble with. He noticed a small shape pressed against his back and remembered he wasn’t alone. He carefully turned over, trying not to let his wide body jostle the bed.
The Darkal’s breaths were light and even. He was facing away, one wing tucked tightly between himself and the bed, while the other angled up and draped over him like a blanket. Arro noticed how thick the fur on his wings was, an even darker shade of gray than his scales. He still didn’t know where the odd dragon was from, and it intrigued him. He wondered if it had something to do with Glitara…
“I can feel you staring at me,” the Darkal murmured.
Arro pulled the blanket over his head. He remembered the other dragon could read his emotions. “Right, sorry. I wasn’t trying to. Sometimes I forget you’re telepathic.”
“I don’t need telepathy, I can feel you breathing on my neck.”
Arro buried his face deeper in his pillow.
Rangavar stretched. “Thanks for letting me stay again. I know this is weird.”
“Well, I leave in a few days, and then you’ll be rid of me.” Arro wondered what he would do the next few days; he didn’t want to waste them doing nothing. He suddenly remembered the research lab, and checked the time on his wristband. It was still early. An idea slowly formed in his mind.
He struggled his way out of the bed, his gut getting in the way. He’d overdone it on the bread yesterday. The swell of fat sat heavily on his thighs, and bunched up when he tried to lean forward. It grumbled a bit, already hungry as his body awakened. “I think I’m going to go to work.”
Rangavar pricked an ear, still facing away. “Wait, so you do actually have a job here?”
Arro shrugged, but realized Rangavar couldn’t see him. “Well, I do right now. On accident. It’s sort of a long story.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Anyway, I’m hoping it’ll be interesting the next few days.”
He found he was actually deeply curious about Glitara, ever since it began playing a large roll in his life. He’d already been hired; why not see if he could learn a little more? The fact that there was so much security for the humble-looking lab also helped pique his interest.
The Faerian closed the bag strapped to his leg and got ready to leave.
“Where do you want me to go?” Rangavar sat up groggily.
“You can just stay here if you want.” Arro shrugged. “I don’t care. I won’t be back until later.”
The Darkal rubbed his eyes. “Okay…”
Arro left, ready for whatever secrets the research facility might hold.


In the lab, the windows were clean; the floor was shiny; Arro dropped the mop back into the bucket. Not exactly the secrets he’d been hoping to uncover.
He shifted his utility belt uncomfortably around his waist. They’d had to alter one on the spot just to fit him, not having any others that were large enough. They hadn’t done a very good job, either: It was still a bit tight, pinching his rolls and forcing his lovehandles to spill over the sides.
His ample midsection also strained the fabric of his jacket. Every world tended to have their own social norms regarding clothing, and Karraden seemed to be very lax about it on the outside. To employers, though, a uniform was necessary. The lab had scrambled quickly to find one big enough for Arro, although they’d had even less luck than finding the belt, and would need to have one specially made. The one they gave him stretched ominously over his round belly, threatening to burst open at every move. He didn’t dare bend over, lest his pants rip from his tail-hole down his butt.
He put the dirty mop bucket away as his shift ended. So much for filling the days learning about Glitara. As he clocked out, he decided the work wasn’t worth it. He’d rather waste time as a tourist or anything else. He wasn’t used to such physical labor.
When he left the building, ready to go home and just drop into bed, he squinted at the bright sunlight. Well, maybe not go to bed, but at least lie there for a while and regret his decisions.
“Uh… what are you doing here?”
Arro pricked his ears as he noticed a familiar Darkal approach. “Well, going back to the hotel, right now.”
Rangavar looked from him to the research building. “Here? This is where you’ve decided to spend your next few days?” He sounded a bit upset. To be fair, Arro had promised not to stalk him, although that had been after already getting the job. This just so happened to be where he got the job.
“Well I was, until I found out what I’d be doing.” He gestured down at his new work uniform. The thick gray fabric was vastly different than the uniforms of higher-up employees. “I was hoping to learn a bit about Glitara, but they want me to ‘work my way up’ first and I doubt that’ll happen before I return home.”
The Darkal wrinkled his nose. “Why would you want to learn about that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He was taken aback. “Maybe it’s not super interesting to you, because you lived there a few centuries, but the rest of us haven’t even heard what happened yet.”
Rangavar spread his arms. “There’s really not that much to tell.”
“What are they researching then?”
The Darkal faltered. “Well, I don’t know… I guess I’ll find out when I start working. Which I’m supposed to be doing right now.” He went to move around the large Faerian. “You’re making me late.”
Arro took a huge step to the side to let Rangavar pass, when the inevitable happened.
Riiiiipppp
As he spread his legs, the pants of the uniform gave up, his floppy body busting free of its constraints. The thick thighs jiggled as they escaped the confines of the sturdy material.
Several people nearby turned to look at the noise, their gaze falling across the fat Faerian’s tattered uniform. Arro’s face turned a brighter shade of red.
Rangavar eyed him unsympathetically. “So this is, like… a regular occurrence for you?” he observed. Arro wanted to get angry at the rude question, but supposed it was way less rude than that time he tried to murder him. He’d never stop feeling guilty about that.
“N-no! I’ve just been having the worst luck lately.” The Faerian glanced around quickly and then immediately turned back towards the building. “I’m going to go give this back. And then I won’t be back here! Promise!”
Vaugh damn, but that Darkal must find him pathetic. He had a fat, flabby body, repeatedly messed things up, couldn’t even wear pants correctly: Arro would have been personally offended to be killed by a guy like himself. Like, how dare he. Fat pathetic shit.
Tears burned in his eyes as he hurried past all his new coworkers while grasping what was left of the uniform.


It was dark by the time Rangavar’s own shift ended. He found that Arro had left the hotel door unlocked, and pushed it open quietly.
The Faerian was splayed across the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Rangavar wanted to flop down, too, but since Arro took up the entire surface area, he slumped into the chair instead. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them.
“You too, huh?”
Rangavar groaned. “Well, the uniform they gave me fit, so one of us still had the better day.”
Arro sighed. “I gave the uniform back, and they told me I could stay home for a few days until they made a bigger size. At least I’ll be gone by then, and won’t have to worry about it.”
“Why don’t you just tell them you quit?”
“I don’t know.” Arro sighed and slowly started to sit up. “I feel bad, maybe. Or maybe I’m a bit disappointed I won’t get to learn more about Glitara now. I was kind of curious about that when I set out this morning.”
Rangavar raised a brow. “Why do you want to?”
“Well, for one thing, no one knows what they’re researching. It’s a little weird.” He looked at the Darkal tiredly. “And since I don’t know much about Glitara in general, learning anything else would have been a bonus. I’ve gotten quite… curious, about it.”
Rangavar could fill in the blank. “Because of me.”
Arro looked away. “I guess.”
The Darkal picked at the table thoughtfully. “I mean… if there’s something you want to know, I could just tell you. Not that there’s much to tell.”
“Wait, really?” Arro perked up.
Rangavar shrugged. “We could sit here and stare at each other all night instead.”
“Oh. Uh…” Arro gestured at Rangavar. “Well, one thing I’ve been wondering, is do all Glitarians look like you?”
Rangavar frowned. “Really? That’s your pressing question? Also, no, we look like individual people.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he stammered. “Like, your scales are such a dark shade of gray, and your wings are even darker, I just… no one else is like that. I didn’t know if Glitara did that or something.”
The Darkal wrinkled his nose. “I’m from an island in Edaca, and literally everyone there is ‘like that’.” He gestured down at himself. “Glitarians are all the same color as they were born.”
“Sorry.” The Faerian pressed his index fingers together. “I really didn’t know. I mean, it’s a nice color, I didn’t mean to offend or anything.”
Rangavar snorted. “I don’t see a lot of dragons with pink scales, but I didn’t assume that something weird happened to you.”
Arro scowled. “I’m not pink. I’m like, a reeeeally light shade of red.”
“What do you think ‘pink’ is?”
Arro crossed his arms and looked away.
“Well, you’re red now, and all the other times you blush.”
Arro growled and lay back down, covering his face with a pillow.
Unconcerned, Rangavar leaned back in the chair. “Any other ‘important’ questions?”
The dragon’s voice was muffled from beneath the pillow. “When the atmosphere sealed off, what was it like on the inside? On the surface, I mean?”
The Darkal pricked his ears. That was far more intense question.
“Or, like, what was it like for you personally? Do you remember any of it?”
Rangavar stared at his claws for a long moment before he spoke. “I remember the sky getting really dark. The ground started to crack and shake, like an earthquake. Or like, more intensely than that, since it was being caused by magic.” They knew the whole thing was caused by some rampant magic, they just still didn’t know what released it. Or what gave it so much power.
He looked back up. Arro was sitting up again, hugging the pillow to his chest while watching him.
The smaller dragon scowled at the table. “It wasn’t just the landscape that changed. As the magic closed it off, that was when…” He faltered. “When… well. That was when we were severed from the other worlds.”
That was his clearest memory from the whole thing. Even throughout the ground and sky shifting around him, he’d been able to focus only on the sharp pain of his telepathic link cut off from everyone he knew. Logically, he knew at the time that they were all still fine on the other worlds, but to his soul it was like experiencing everyone in his life dying at once.
Arro peered at him over the edge of the pillow. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s okay.” Rangavar sighed. “At least things got better for Jade after that.”
There, he said it.
Arro put down the pillow. “No, look,” he began.
Rangavar turned away. “Whatever you’re about to say, I really don’t want to hear it.”
The Faerian ignored him. “Jade loved you a lot. She talked about you all the time.”
Rangavar pricked an ear.
“She missed you. She told me a lot about you.”
“Heh.” A small, reluctant smile touched Rangavar’s face. “A few were good things, I hope.”
“A few,” Arro agreed.
Rangavar’s smile faded.
Arro smacked his forehead. “I mean, yes! Ughh, I always say the wrong thing!”
The Darkal sighed.
He had a lot of trouble drifting off to sleep that night, mulling over the day. And the things that Arro had said. The more Rangavar got to know him, the more the Faerian didn’t really seem like a bad sort of guy. Just a little… misguided, sometimes. Doing things more than thinking things.
He adjusted himself against Arro’s warm back as his mind finally began to settle. He was glad that he was the Darkal in the room instead of Arro, the Faerian unable to read Rangavar’s emotions and thoughts.


Rangavar snuggled more deeply into bed, remembering he didn’t have to be up for work. He was only there every other day for now, until he was trained. Trained in the art of washing windows, or whatever. He stretched his wings, one of which was draped over the edge of the bed, and nestled farther into the fur around his face.
Wait.
He jerked his head back, finding that he’d rolled over in his sleep. He was greeted by a large pair of pale, tightly-tucked wings right in front of him. He rubbed his muzzle with a paw, dispersing the feeling of the soft fuzz.
Thankfully, he had woken up before Arro, so he was able to flip over and swing his legs off the bed without the Faerian noticing. He cast a glance back at him, looking at the way Arro filled the surface, his gut spreading before him right to the edge. The firm round curve of one love handle, rising into the air as he lay on his side, rose and fell with his breath. He had his head tucked down, nestled into the ring of fat around his neck. The thick, jagged horns on his head were the same color as his wings and belly, a similar shape to Rangavar’s, but incredibly thick at the base.
Rangavar found himself staring. Arro looked so peaceful when he slept. Well, of course he looks peaceful when he’s doing nothing, Rangavar thought darkly. He looks awfully friendly when he’s not, y’know, murdering.
He quickly stepped into the shower room, grabbed a towel, and prepared to get on with his day.
Arro was awake by the time he emerged, the Faerian sitting on the edge of the bed sleepily.
Rangavar whisked himself over to the room’s singular chair. “Sorry if I took too long.”
“Oh, I don’t have anywhere to be.” Arro stretched and yawned, his arched back making the curve of his fat gut expand even farther for a second. “Since my ‘new job’ fell through, I haven’t decided what to do until my flight. It’s not for another three days, so I can do basically whatever I want until then.”
“Well, I already know what I’m going to do today.” Rangavar materialized his ID card. He usually kept it disappeared with magic, so that he didn’t have to carry it everywhere he went, but he was pretty sure he’d need it out for today’s plans. “I need to get one of those wristbands. I can’t seem to do anything without one.”
“Can I see?” Arro reached curiously towards the ID card. The Darkal shrugged and handed it over. “So, this thing must be ancient. I’ve never seen one before.” Arro flipped it in his paws. “I wonder if Jade has one.”
“Well, she did. We were already mates when they came out, so I know we got them at the same time. But I doubt she still does, now that they’re apparently obsolete.”
Arro’s eyes flicked over the surface. Rangavar frowned, realizing that he was reading it. He tried to remember the information printed on it; his name, homeworld, and age all came to mind. Well, he knew his age was just printed as an infinity symbol, since he’d lived long enough to officially be considered unable to die of old age. If he could, he would have already, long ago.
No one was really sure why some dragons grew old, and some didn’t. It obviously had something to do with magic, but they hadn’t worked out how to harness it and transfer it to other dragons that needed it.
“When they put the information on a wristband, will they still list Jade as your mate?”
Rangavar jolted back to the present. “Huh?”
Arro waved the card at him. “I mean, on here, it lists your mate as Jade. But now…” He trailed off.
“Oh.” Rangavar had forgotten that bit. “I guess I don’t know. Even though we’re not ‘together’, we’re connected, so…” He trailed off. “It’s not like this has ever happened before. Y’know. Having two mates.” He gestured between himself and the fat Faerian on the bed.
Rangavar frowned as a thought occurred. “Wait, what does it say on Jade’s info? Am I listed?
Arro fidgeted uncomfortably. He finally admitted, “You’re not. It just lists me.”
Rangavar’s ears flattened slightly, but he wasn’t surprised.
“I mean, if everyone thought you were dead, then I guess they probably would have taken your name off anyway. Even if she didn’t get a new mate, I mean.”
Rangavar rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Why did everything have to change so much? I never wanted to be gone. I hate this.”
He suddenly remembered who he was whining to, and snapped out of it. He didn’t need Arro to know how much everything hurt. He shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “I guess I’ll just let the people at the tech store do their thing.”
That seemed like a good place to go. He’d seen one on his way to work the day before. Hopefully, at least those hadn’t changed, and still sold and fixed technology. It was in the name, after all.
The Faerian interrupted his thoughts. “Actually, you might have more luck at one of those little places where they update ID information. That’s probably where they give them out, since the wristbands are practically necessary at this point and you need your information updated anyway.”
“Oh.” He pricked his ears gratefully. “What are the ‘little places’ called?”
“Uh…” Arro looked down at his paws. “I don’t actually know.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “Well, how does that help me, then?”
Arro lifted his head as he had an idea. “Hey, I don’t know they’re called, but I know what they look like though. How about I go with you?”
The other dragon stared.
“I mean, uh, I don’t have anything else to do today,” Arro stammered. “I mean, I’m looking for things to do. It would be nice to see the city. And I don’t mind helping you.” He looked down. “I do still owe you. Obviously, I can never really pay you back.”
He glanced back up at Rangavar shyly. “Just let me help as best I can?”
It was a tempting proposition. “Well… okay.” Maybe it was the fact that they’d been sleeping in the same room for several nights, and the fact that Arro had been behaving, but he didn’t feel as anxious around the giant Faerian as he had several days ago.
As it turns out, the dragon was really good at being nice, when he wasn’t out murderin’.