Arro wants to help Rangavar as much as possible before he leaves. He also wants to learn more about the secretive research facility that could explain Rangavar's past. But perhaps what he needs most of all, is someone to take his mind off his "large" body issues.

Rangavar just wants to set up his life and shake off the presence of his currently least-favorite dragon, but might need more help from Arro than it seems.

My OC Zag gets an honorable mention :) Maybe a story about him is coming in the future! We'll never know... (until the future, that is)

A SFW chapter
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Kill, Marry, Fuck
Chapter 7


Rangavar was startled awake by the sound of the bed creaking behind him. His head bolted up from the surface of the table. It took him a few moments to remember where he was. Soft sunlight was sneaking in through the windows, and Arro was starting to stir in bed behind him.
Rangavar looked down at the papers on the table, where he’d apparently fallen asleep some point during the night. None of them were filled out. He hazily remembered picking through them, but couldn’t remember how much, or even remember what little he’d read through.
He rubbed his eyes groggily and stretched. He was stiff from sleeping hunched in the chair. Fuck these papers. He had the urge to crumple them up and throw them at the wall, but knew he’d regret it two minutes later. Arro could wake up at any time, and he had to do something fast. He put his head in his paws to think, gently massaging his temples. Unfortunately, however late he’d been up, he was completely exhausted now.
Behind him, the swollen Faerian made a noise between a mutter and a groan.
Shit, it was too late.
“You’re up already?” Arro craned his neck at the smaller gray dragon, his second chin squishing in the way. He yawned.
“I just, wanted to get a head start on this paperwork,” Rangavar grumbled, grateful the Faerian couldn’t hear lies.
The big dragon stretched. Rangavar watched from the corner of his eye as Arro’s belly strained against the movement, still full of heavy dough from the night before. It sat heavily on its host, ever a hungry beast looking for more.
Rangavar realized he’d gotten distracted, and snapped out of it. This wasn’t going well. He was too tired to focus.
He glanced down at the page again. Maybe the female had been wrong about having to update his files like this. Maybe if they just recovered the old files first, he could update it on a computer instead. He sometimes found computers easier to read, when he played around with the font or size of the letters. Or other times, there were even computers that could read out loud. If those had been new and exciting technology centuries ago, he figured it was probably even more common now.
He heard shifting and groaning on the bed as Arro sluggishly tried to sit up. Unfortunately, his huge sea of belly swung back and forth as he tried to roll over, the dense lump of adipose preventing him from moving freely. He couldn’t bend to sit up, or his belly got in the way. He couldn’t move his arms around it, because his belly got in the way. And he couldn’t move his legs where the belly’s overhang trapped his thick thighs, either. His belly got in the way.
Rangavar picked up the pen he’d dropped and put the end between his teeth. He knew it was too late to make any sort of headway, so he sat at the table silently cursing himself instead. It was his own fault he’d fallen asleep.
“Fuuuuck.” From behind him, Arro groaned. “I’m too tired to get up today.”
Rangavar chewed the pen thoughtfully. “It’s not like you have to. You don’t have to go to work or anything.”
After a moment, Rangavar’s eyes widened. “Wait. I’M supposed to go to work today!” He dashed out of the chair for the hotel room door.
Arro just groaned again from the bed. “Good luck.”


The sky was evening by the time he returned, although the actual time was more equivalent to midday. He wearily pushed open the door. The sounds of the shower in the other room hit his ears. He realized that technically meant he had a few minutes to himself, but he tiredly looked at the pages on the table, and then flopped backwards onto the bed instead.
He was still there when a lumbering shape emerged from the shower room. “Another rough day?”
Rangavar grunted in answer.
Arro stepped out, rubbing the back of his head. He looked from Rangavar to the papers on the table. “Oh, you never finished these?” He picked one up.
“I fell asleep.” Rangavar yawned. “I don’t know when. But it must have been late, since I’m so tired.”
“Probably a crash from all the sugar.” Arro inspected the paper a moment before letting it fall back to the table.
“Is that a thing?”
The other dragon pushed the rest of the papers apart with his thick fingers. “What happens if you don’t get this done today?”
“No idea.” Rangavar rolled over slightly to look at him. “I’m too tired to sit at the table and read over them, so it’ll have to wait.” It wasn’t the best excuse, but it wasn’t entirely untrue.
The hulking Faerian slowly lowered himself into the chair, pawing through them. “You know, it’s a lot of reading, but the questions look pretty easy.” He glanced up at Rangavar. “You could probably get them done quickly if you just skim all the stuff about the terms and conditions.”
Rangavar made a noncommittal noise. He wasn’t even going to ask what terms and conditions meant.
“You— You do realize I’m leaving tomorrow, right?” Arro watched him from the chair. “I’m leaving tomorrow night. You have a day and a half to get your credits straightened out so you can find somewhere to stay.”
Rangavar pushed his head back into the blanket. He’d been trying not to think about it. “I know.”
Arro glanced out the window, and then back to him. “How late do you think that place is open?”
“I think it’s just not going to happen today, Arro.”
Arro waved the stack of papers at him. “That’s cutting it a little close, no?” He looked down again at the papers in his paws, thumbing through them, thinking hard. “What if you just told me the answers and I wrote them down for you? And then you could stay over there, and keep, drooling on the bed, or whatever you’re doing.”
“Okay first of all, I don’t drool.” Rangavar picked his head up and shot him a glare. “Second… You would do that?”
The pink Faerian flashed the papers again. “You said you’d let me help you. I don’t want to leave tomorrow knowing you don’t have a place to stay; it’ll feel like I failed or something.”
Rangavar pricked his ears and leaned up on his elbows, more attentively. “Yeah, let’s finish it now then.” As unexpected as it was, it was really the best outcome he could have hoped for. He wouldn’t even have to touch the damn papers if Arro was serious.
Arro picked up the pen. “Let’s get to work.”


Looking over the first few questions, Arro thought this seemed pretty easy. Rangavar’s name? Obvious. Species? He wrote ‘Darkal’ into the blank. Age? Simple enough. Mate? Uh…
Arro paused, before hesitantly writing ‘Jade’. Since Rangavar was still connected to her, it would feel a bit dishonest to leave the field blank. He supposed if it confused the system, then oh well, they’d just take it off.
“What’s your homeworld? You said it’s somewhere in Edaca?”
The Darkal crossed his arms behind his head. “Leevay.”
“Oh, wow, that’s far.” Arro scribbled it in. “Current residence? Wait, sorry, that’s a stupid question.” He wrote in ‘Karraden.’ “Now it wants your employment information. Should I just write what you did at the research facility today?”
The process began to go more smoothly as they covered more questions. Arro flipped through faster as they became more obscure and less important, such as his parents’ names and his species of birth.
Arro went to write ‘Darkal’ automatically as Rangavar stopped him.
“Faerian. I was born a Faerian.”
The larger dragon cast him a sideways glance and frowned. “That’s… not possible.” It was true that the species were related. By certain magics, ritual, and training, some groups of Faerians had first evolved themselves into the newer species they called ‘Gemians.’ Nowadays, most of the Faerians who tried, only did so to gain the Gemians’ famed healing powers, so that they could go on to become better healers themselves.
Darkals only existed because a group of Gemians evolved into them during a freak accident; no one had ever been able to replicate the bizarre occurrence. Since then, Darkals could only be born as Darkals, or at least until someone figured out what caused the first ones to transform.
Arro stared at the dragon curiously. “Faerians can’t become Darkals.”
Rangavar was still lying flat on his back in the middle of the bed. He jabbed a thumb at his chest. “This one did.”
A little unsure, Arro slowly penciled it in.
The rest didn’t take much longer. Arro got up to splash some water on his face before they left. He hadn’t wanted to mention how tired he was too, worried the Darkal might reject his help. He disappeared into the shower room while leaving Rangavar on the bed.
As he stood in front of the mirror, his gaze dropped from his face to the rest of him. He knew he had really overdone it last night. Standing back all the way against the door, he still couldn’t see all of himself, despite the full-length mirror being fairly wide. He turned a little, inspecting his body, watching the way his gut hung over his belt. Vaugh, he was so fat. He gave his belly a little pat, watching it jiggle.
He really had eaten almost two dozen donuts in one sitting. What had he been thinking? He remembered how full he was towards the end, and remembered still deciding to eat more when Rangavar offered him the next box. Arro cringed to recall that towards the end, he’d even needed Rangavar’s help to shove the donuts in his fat mouth. What is wrong with me? His gluttony constantly got the better of him.
He spun again in the mirror, watching the way his belly swung with the motion. He picked it up from underneath for a second, watching the weighty mass squish in his arms, and then let it go. It flopped heavily back into place, pulling against the constraint of his belt, and yet still managing to cover part of his thighs. He grabbed the flabby lovehandles on his sides and shook. The soft fat sent ripples across his belly as it moved. I’m so pathetic.
He didn’t want to look anymore. He glanced back up to his face, which was flushed with embarrassment. Huh, I really do look more red when I blush. Not that he wasn’t red all the time, though, of course. He definitely wasn’t pink.
“Arro?” Rangavar knocked on the door.
“Oh, sorry, just a second.” He dried his face, hung the towel back up, and emerged, seeing Rangavar watching him curiously as he stood hugging the stack of papers to his chest.
“I’m ready.”
Arro quickly nodded. “Okay, great.”
“You know,” Rangavar watched him with a bemused expression, “you don’t have to come with me this time. I know where the building is.”
Arro pressed his index fingers together. “And waste the entire day in this tiny room? I mean, I won’t come if you don’t want me to, but… I do want to go for a walk…”
The sun had finished setting by the time they were outside. It was at the stage where it was still emitting a soft glow from where it had disappeared below the horizon, and the streetlamps were only just turning on.
“It’s so pretty,” Arro observed. He really wished he could see the city more. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he didn’t want to walk it alone, though. The truth was, he hated the public; he hated walking around outside; he hated being seen, or looked at, or judged. He felt a little better when it was with someone else. It took his mind off of how others must perceive the disgusting amount of fat hanging on his body.
He didn’t ask to follow Rangavar inside this time, merely taking the door and walking in behind him. The Darkal headed to one of the desks, where a different dragon than yesterday began to help him with the paperwork.
Arro heard him begin mentioning his files as he handed over the pages. The dragon at the desk began to clack away on the computer. Arro grew a little bored watching them go back and forth. It was true what Rangavar had mentioned yesterday; the type three mutation gave him excellent hearing. It increased all of his senses, actually, and he would have curiously looked at the computer screen from here, but the blue Faerian submitting the files had his computer angled away.
“I’m sorry,” the Faerian was saying. “It just needs some time to process.”
As he stood there, the Darkal was flicking his little tail back and forth. Arro could only see him from behind, watching Rangavar’s lean back stretch as he arched over the desk. Most of his back was hidden by his half-folded wings, of course, which looked flexible and soft to the touch.
Arro shook his head, dispersing his thoughts. He wasn’t sure why he was so intrigued by him. He’d seen other Darkals before, despite being rare. But Rangavar was also Glitarian. That must be it: Arro wanted to know more about him. Er, about Glitara, he meant.
He was brought back to the present by the sound of their conversation growing more frustrated. He’d missed what was said, but when Rangavar turned around and began to head towards him, he looked pissed.
Arro frowned. “Did something go wrong?”
Rangavar threw up his paws. “It takes a day for the files to process. But they ‘promise’ it’ll be updated tomorrow night and I’ll finally be able to get the stupid band.”
“Well, that’s good though.” Arro held the door open for them as they reemerged into the crisp night. The sun had fully sunk, letting the city lights do its work. “You’ll still be able to get a place to stay by tomorrow night, after I’ve left.”
The smaller dragon sighed. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” He wrinkled his nose. “I just wish I could start using it tonight.”
Arro shrugged. “I can get you food again. I really don’t mind. And you can just stay in my room.”
Rangavar stared up at him with a furrowed brow.
“It’s just one more night,” Arro promised. “I’ll officially be leaving you alone after tomorrow.” It had been part of their agreement, after all. “Really, it’s fine.”
The gray dragon looked away. “I guess.”
Arro pointedly walked past the donut shop from yesterday on their way back, but Rangavar stopped him. “Don’t you want to go in?”
“Oh, no, I definitely had enough yesterday. More than enough. I’m actually feeling a bit sick of donuts.”
Rangavar scowled up at him. “You know Darkals can hear lies? Has anyone told you that?”
Oh. Right.
When they got back to their room, Rangavar sat down on the bed and stretched his arms over his head, both of his wings flexing fully behind him.
Arro wanted to stretch too, but carefully put the two dozen donuts on the table first. He’d ended up giving in, but he certainly wouldn’t eat them all this time. Definitely not: He was one-hundred percent sure. Several boxes in one sitting? Nope, not him.
He collapsed next to Rangavar, shaking the whole bed. He almost flung the smaller dragon off as the mattress buckled. “I’m never moving again.”
Rangavar fell backwards next to Arro, both of them staring at the ceiling. “Me neither,” he replied.
Twenty minutes later, sitting at the table, Rangavar began carefully picking apart his donut.
“Why do you pull them apart, instead of just putting them in your mouth like a normal person?”
Rangavar made a face at the Faerian. “Maybe I like it this way.”
Arro shoved his forth into his mouth. “Suit yourself.” He pushed the words out through stuffed cheeks as he chewed the gooey, sticky dough. The flavor of fat and sugar exploded into his mouth.
As he was shoving down the sixth, Rangavar finished his first, leaning back in the chair. “They’re so filling.”
Arro shamefully slowed down a bit. He’d gone through the whole box and was still hungry.
“Oh, here.” Rangavar passed him the rest of his own box, misinterpreting the pause. “There’s no way I could ever eat five more.”
Arro let the Darkal place the small box between his paws. The five donuts were perfect, each frosted and sprinkled, beckoning. “You must think I’m gross,” said Arro out loud.
Rangavar looked back over at him. “Huh?”
Arro felt his cheeks grow hot. He hadn’t really meant that to slip out. “Just, you know. Always hungry.”
The Darkal frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”
Arro looked away. “Nothing, I guess.”
Rangavar picked up the other dozen donuts still on the table, bringing them over to the bed.
“What are you doing?”
Rangavar stopped. “I thought you said you were still hungry.”
Arro shook the box currently in his paw.
“You ate twenty-four donuts last night, but tonight you’re going to settle for less than half of that?”
Arro felt himself blush. “You don’t know what it’s like,” he stammered. “Don’t Darkals convert all their extra energy into magic or something? You can eat as much as you want. You don’t know what it’s like to be fat.”
It hurt even more to say out loud. Arro hugged and lifted his belly for emphasis, letting it fall back into his lap. It dropped heavily, bouncing up and down and sending ripples through all his rolls.
Rangavar hopped on the side of the bed, carefully placing the extra boxes on an empty corner of the mattress. He had to squeeze his own body all the way to the side, since Arro took up most of the space. “Nobody said you can’t eat as much as you want, just because it’ll make you gain weight.” He was politely not looking at Arro’s hanging gut. “And actually, I happen to know a Darkal who eats enough to be chubby. It’s possible.”
Arro raised a brow. “Really? I’ve only ever seen one Darkal who comes close to fat. He’s the guy always on TV.”
Rangavar frowned. “TV?”
“Yeah. He’s like, that guy who has the world staff or whatever. I think his name’s Zag?”
Rangavar was trying to pull himself farther on the bed. “I meant more like, what’s a TV. But that’s ironic. I think we’re talking about the same Darkal.”
Arro finally noticed that the reason Rangavar was having trouble finding space on the bed was because Arro’s heaping fat was spilling around him like a mountain, taking up all the space. He hastily scooted out of the way. At least, as much as he could. Well, he made the remaining sliver of bed a bit bigger. “Vaugh, I’m sorry.”
Rangavar finally had room to swing his legs up. He grabbed the boxes from their small corner of safety, and put them back in front of Arro. “I’m guessing the term ‘TV’ was only made up within the past few centuries?”
“Oh, right.” Arro leaned back, grappling with the short nightstand next to the bed until his paw found something shaped like a remote. He swung it towards the TV on the table and turned it on.
The Darkal leaned forward curiously. “Oh, I thought that was a computer or something.”
Arro absentmindedly began munching on another donut. “Well they’d probably seem the same to you.”
Rangavar shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The Faerian flattened his ears. “I didn’t mean it like, you’re stupid, or something,” he stammered. “I mean, they both have screens…” He pointed at the TV as he stuffed down the rest of his donut. “Just, never mind. Watch.”
Several Gemians were currently talking on the TV. Rangavar was peering at them curiously. “So, it’s like a continuous video feed of people just doing stuff?”
“Sure, I guess you could call it that.”
“And people just… sit here, and stare at it for fun?” He didn’t seem super impressed.
“Well, you get to choose what you watch. There are things more interesting than this.” He clicked the button to change the channel.
Rangavar’s eyes widened as a new picture appeared on the screen. “Oh… can I try?”
“Um, sure.” Arro handed over the remote. He watched with amusement as Rangavar played with the channel button, an expression of wonder on his face every time a new show appeared. It made the Faerian wonder what exactly dragons used to do for fun.
He took the opportunity to reach into the next box of donuts and begin shoveling them into his mouth.
The Darkal was fascinated. What a sad, deprived world he must have grown up in, during a time period before TV. Arro realized that he’d also grown up in a time period before donuts. Crazy to think about.
He reached into the box again to realize that it was empty. Another six donuts were gone. He was bloated and full, but binging on donuts the night before had apparently prepared his body to do the same tonight without too much resistance. He grimaced. Hadn’t they just been talking about this earlier?
Arro sank back on the bed, his head supported by his neck rolls as he craned it to keep watching TV. Rangavar was still perched on the edge, staring intently.
“Oh, you can scoot back if you want.” Arro was still embarrassed over the way his mass was taking over. He was torn between continually adjusting himself, and trying not to let his weight rock the whole bed like a stormy sea. “I don’t care if you like, elbow me or something on accident.”
Rangavar glanced backwards. “Oh, thanks.” He did shimmy a little closer. Or, at least until he bumped into Arro’s stomach.
Arro felt his cheeks grow hot, but didn’t say anything. The Darkal hadn’t even acknowledged it had happened, or perhaps hadn’t noticed. He was still focused intently on the screen, completely distracted.
Okay, but there was no way he hadn’t noticed, Arro grimaced. His rolls were taking up the whole damn bed.
The Faerian shifted again uncomfortably, trying to give the Darkal more room, but just couldn’t get his belly back any farther without starting to lean his other side off the bed. He sadly lay an arm on it, a tiny jiggle traveling the surface of the stuffed mound. Sighing deeply, he reached into the box next to him only to realize that he’d finished the donuts. Of fucking course.
“You know I can tell.”
Arro startled. “Hm?”
Rangavar turned back around. “When you get all flustered and embarrassed. I mean not just because you turn bright red. I can feel your emotions telepathically, too.”
Arro knew he was bright red now. “I’m just trying to make room on the bed.” He squirmed uncomfortably. “I can’t get out of the way. You can lean on me or something if you have to.” He wasn’t sure if he were more uncomfortable from the twenty three donuts stuffed in his gut, or the emotional damage.
Instead of answering, Rangavar simply took his offer and leaned back. Arro tensed as the smaller dragon sank deeply into his gigantic store of adipose. Being leaned on by someone he didn’t know very well was a strange feeling.
He turned red again as the Darkal looked up at him questioningly. “Are you comfortable?”
“Sure,” said Arro, his body stiff as a board.
He did begin to relax again as they went back to watching TV. Rangavar had finally settled on a channel. After a while, the Darkal started to fall more deeply into his fat, and Arro tensed up again at the gentle touch. He realized the real reason he was sinking down on his big, pillowy roll was that the smaller dragon had actually fallen asleep,.
Oh well. At least Arro had already lain down in a comfortable position for the night.