Arro's belly is a hazard to his work uniform. He knows he needs to stop eating, but might find the exact opposite type of help he needs.

A very SFW chapter. Not to toot my own horn or anything either but it's also one of my favorite chapters so far. It was super fun to write :)

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Kill, Marry, Fuck
Chapter 12


The fabric of Arro’s pants creaked ominously as he sat up. He bent his leg, preparing to push himself up to his feet, but stopped. “Fuck.”
“What?”
He looked down at his tight pants pinching every curve of his body. “When I stand up, they’re gonna rip.”
The Darkal sighed. “You don’t know that.”
Arro grimaced. “I think I do.”
“They’ll probably be fine.” Rangavar put his paw on his chin. “You can’t sit on the floor all day. If we don’t go find Jethe soon, you’ll get fired for real.”
The fat Faerian put his head in his paws. “Do you think I should, like… take them back off..?”
Rangavar’s ears flattened. “Seriously? After all that?”
“I know.”
Rangavar glanced around. “Can you just… scoot over to a wall or something, and pull yourself up without bending too much?”
Arro picked his head up and examined the room. The walls were smooth. No chairs. The dusty old table off to the side looked like it might break under any pressure. “Uh…”
The Darkal sighed. “Well, it seems there’s been a glaring oversight in another one of your plans.”
Arro shot him a glare. “Hey, this one was yours.”
“Hmm, maybe.”
“No, it definitely was.” Arro scowled at the smaller dragon. “You told me to lie on the floor.”
Rangavar rubbed the back of his head and looked away. “Well… okay, yeah…”
Arro stuck out his paw. “Can you help me up?”
Rangavar looked up sharply. “What?”
“Can you help me up?” Arro repeated.
The much smaller dragon wrinkled his nose. “You’re heav—Uh, I mean, bigger, than I am. You’d just pull me over.”
“Maybe,” Arro conceded. “But we’re really late for work now and I don’t want to be stuck on the floor when Jethe comes looking for us.”
Exasperated, Rangavar wandered over and took the much larger dragon’s paw. “Okay. Fine. I’ll get you up.”
He leaned way back to pull as Arro put his other paw on the ground and started pushing himself, trying not to bend his knees too hard against the distressed fabric. His distended belly squeezed against the top of his thighs, not allowing them to fold closer, making it harder to reach his center of balance and stand.
Rangavar had his whole body leaning away, planting his hind paws firmly against the floor. Arro heard a scritching noise as the Darkal’s claws suddenly slid out from under him on the dirty tiles. “Fuck, I’m slipp—”
Arro dropped back heavily. He didn’t have time to let go of Rangavar’s arm, so the Darkal was dragged down on top of him.
“Oof!” All the wind was suddenly knocked from Arro’s lungs. Darkals were light, but not like they weighed nothing.
He heard the smaller dragon groan, and craned his head down to his chest as far as his neck rolls would allow, to see Rangavar stretched across his pudge and his nose right beneath Arro’s chin. When Rangavar picked up his head to see Arro’s directly in front of his, he growled, “Arro, what the fuck.”
Arro dropped his head back on the ground, still trying to regain his breath. “I was really trying! You’re the one that couldn’t do it.”
With a defeated sigh, Rangavar pushed off of the fat Faerian and rolled onto the ground next to him. They lay and stared at the ceiling together. “We’re so late. We’re fired, aren’t we.”
“Not yet.” A new voice entered the room.
Rangavar jolted up. Arro would have done the same, if only he could have.
Jethe was leaning a shoulder on one side of the doorway, his arms crossed, the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. “Need a little help in here? I’ve been wondering where you two were.”
“Ugh.” Rangavar pushed himself to his feet. “Yes, please. Definitely.”
Arro, his face bright red, finally sat up, slow and carefully. “We’re just afraid of my pants ripping when I stand up, so I’m afraid of bending. They’re uh, a bit tight, so—”
A dead silence descended over them when as he leaned forward and a ripping sound cut through the room.
Jethe put a paw on his chin, thinking. “I guess training is starting a little late today.”


The new sheets were white and fluffy. Rangavar was lying in the very middle of them, his knees curled to his chest, wondering how to erase the day from his memory. A trip to the bar, maybe.
He twitched an ear at the sound of Arro moving around downstairs. They’d barely talked to each other all afternoon. Even so, he could tell the big Faerian was pretty bent up about destroying his work uniform. It turned out the jacket was getting readjusted, too. It now needed a new zipper.
A huge clang rang out as something metal dropped on the kitchen floor downstairs. He heard Arro curse, and felt him emit a flash of pain.
At first, he was going to ignore it. After a few long moments, with a sigh, he pushed himself up from the bed. He needed to find out what the Faerian was doing. It was Rangavar’s kitchen, after all. He had to make sure everything was okay. The kitchen, that is. Yeah. That the kitchen was okay.
Arro was standing in the middle, a disgruntled expression on his face, shaking his paw in the air lightly. He glanced up as Rangavar walked in. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He winced. “I slammed my paw in the cabinet.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.” He supposed he wasn’t very convincing as he stood there stretching from being curled up.
The Faerian bent to pick up a pan off the floor. “I thought maybe I’d make my own bread. The bread I got earlier ran out as, uh, I made all those sandwiches.”
Rangavar gestured around. “I didn’t know we even had cooking supplies like this.” He paused. Something felt odd about the sentence, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.
Setting the pan back on the counter, Arro began gathering his bread ingredients. “Oh, no,” he said distractedly. “I got the pots and pans today.”
Rangavar lifted a brow.
“Well, if you went out and got sheets, what’s so weird about getting kitchen supplies?”
The Darkal went over and leaned on the counter. “Arro, I live here. Won’t you have to bring all that stuff with you when you find a place?”
Arro was quiet a long moment. “I could just leave it here. Give it to you, I mean.”
Rangavar tilted his head. “But… why?”
“So I don’t have to carry it.” He shrugged.
“No, I mean… why all this?” Rangavar gestured vaguely around at all the stuff he was doing. “Not just buying all the stuff, but just… everything.”
The big Faerian scowled down at his ingredients. It was the yeast, or whatever. Rangavar didn’t really know. “Why are you so against my help?”
“Huh?”
Arro looked up. “Why? After what I did to you when I came to Karraden,” he said bluntly.
Turning away, Rangavar trudged over to the couch and dropped into it heavily. “I already told you I don’t need it. You should just…” he faltered, trying to put his feelings into words. “Like, live your own life. You don’t have to stick around because you feel bad.”
“Living on Karraden is my life now. Because of the research building, remember? This isn’t really a big deal. And you obviously need my help.”
Rangavar bristled. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
The other dragon stopped what he was doing as he realized what he’d said. “Not, like, you NEED my help, just, well, for when you do. I mean, NOT that you do, but just in case—”
The Darkal leaned his arms on the back of the couch. “You’re talking about this morning.”
“Well…”
Rangavar sank deeper into the couch. “Being stupid still isn’t a reason for you to stay.”
Arro paused. “What? Rangavar, you aren’t stupid.”
Rangavar watched him but refused to meet his eyes. “Struggling with reading isn’t like a ‘before Glitara’ thing, it’s an all-the-time thing. I could never get it right.”
“So?”
“What do you mean, ‘so’? I’ve spent my whole life trying harder than anyone to learn one simple thing, and now that you know I can’t, you also know that there’s no real way to help. You can just, well, go.”
Arro slowly resumed what he’d been doing. “I can’t go, I don’t have a place to live, remember?”
Oh, yeah.
“Unless you’re kicking me out..?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Rangavar sighed heavily and put his head back. “But still, you don’t need to try fixing things that can’t be fixed.”
“Who said you need to be fixed?” Arro pointed out.
Rangavar glanced back at him sharply.
Arro shrugged.
The Darkal put his head back down. He wished there was a table or something in front of the couch where he could throw his feet up. “I think all I really need right now is to sleep and forget this day even happened.”
“I could use a bit of that too.” The large Faerian looked back up from what he was doing. “When I’m done baking, do you want to come with me and find a tavern?”
“You’re going to a tavern?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re asking me to go with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Arro shrugged. “We both need the same thing. Going with someone isn’t as sad as just getting drunk in a corner while staring at strangers.”
Rangavar paused thoughtfully. “Is this like the last time we were at a tavern together?”
The Faerian turned red. “What? No! I just mean—”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Rangavar looked in the opposite direction, out the window, so that Arro wouldn’t see him smirk. “I think I’m down for that.”


As it turned out, there was another bar relatively close to the house. Or, well, closer than the other one. Not that either of them would ever go back to the other one.
The inside was relatively clean. They grabbed a table off to the side. Arro sat on the side of the table with the most room for him to ease his larger body into a seat, as careful as possible not to disrupt anyone around him. He just pulled it out far.
He held up his drink. “To forgetting today?”
Rangavar held up his. “To forgetting.”
They drank.
Arro put his glass back on the table. “Hey. Is it true what they say about Darkals? Having a high tolerance because you metabolize drinks really fast? Like Gemians.”
“Uh.” The Darkal shrugged. “Yeah, that’s true. I don’t ever really push myself, though.”
“Do you think you could drink more than me?”
“You?”
“Yeah.”
Rangavar frowned. “Obviously. Why?”
The Faerian leaned back and sipped from his glass again. “I’ve outdrank a Gemian before.”
“Pfft.” Rangavar wrinkled his nose. “No way. You’re a Faerian.”
“I’m big though.”
The Darkal was casually looking around the room. He didn’t seem very impressed.
“You don’t believe me?”
Rangavar looked back at him and shrugged. He put his elbows on the table and leaned on them. “You’re not lying. But maybe you only think that it’s true.” He snorted. “Maybe you got too drunk to remember how that really went.”
Arro peered at him over the rim of his glass. “Try to outdrink me, then.”
“What? Why?”
The Faerian grinned. “I’ve never had the chance to outdrink a Darkal before.”
Rangavar watched him steadily. “You’d die if you actually tried to drink as much as a Gemian or Darkal.”
Arro was still grinning. “Prove it?”
Rangavar smirked. He lifted his glass again. “Fine. If you’re ready to die. I accept your challenge.”


The Faerian had the smaller dragon hooked around the waist as he helped him stumble back into the house. “I hope you at least remember enough of today to know I kicked your ass at drinking.”
Rangavar groaned.
Arro helped him to the couch. Truth was, he was feeling pretty unsteady himself. It hadn’t been easy. He collapsed onto the couch next to the Darkal and let out a long sigh. They sat in silence for a while.
He put his head back. “I don’t want to go up the stairs.”
Rangavar brought his knees up to his chest. “I don’t want to move ever again.”
The Faerian brightened. “You know what would help?”
“Hm?”
“Some food.” He slowly pushed himself up. “I bet the bread is done cooling by now.”
Rangavar only grunted in response.
Arro briefly looked for a knife, but ended up just grabbing the whole pan and carrying it to the couch. Fuck it. Cutting slices was for cowards. And way more sober people.
The Darkal was watching with his head resting on his paw. “That’s a lot of bread.”
Arro eased himself back onto the couch, filling most of it. Rangavar was practically pushed into the corner, it was a good thing he was so small. “It’ll help absorb the drinks.”
The smaller dragon eyed the pan doubtfully. “I guess.” He shook his head when Arro ripped off a chunk and tried to hand it to him.
Shrugging, Arro popped it into his own mouth. “Shit, this is actually good. Good job, me.”
“Yeah. Good job, you.”
“You didn’t even try it.”
Rangavar made some sort of noise in reply, but couldn’t form words.
“Okay. You’re drunk. You need to eat something.” Arro pulled off another piece and offered it to him.
“Nooo, I don’t want it right now.”
“It’ll make you feel better. See.” He pushed it at Rangavar’s face. “Just try it.”
Rangavar turned his head away, his eyes closed. “Nah.”
Arro drunkenly took the Darkal’s chin and turned it back. He giggled. Fuck, he needed to eat too. He’d have a hell of a hangover tomorrow. “Just taste.”
“Nooo…”
When Rangavar opened his mouth, Arro pushed the bread into it.
His eyes finally flew open. “Mffph!”
“No, don’t spit it out. Chew.”
Rangavar coughed a few times and swallowed. He leaned back. “Asshole.”
The Faerian grinned. “Feel better?”
“No.” Rangavar scowled, more awake now. “Go eat your own bread.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Arro popped another chunk into his own mouth as proof. He offered it back.
“No thanks. I’m serious.” Rangavar glared at him. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“That’s no fun.”
The smaller dragon readjusted himself on the couch. “Actually. Can I see some of that..?”
“Of course.”
Rangavar ripped off a small piece and stared at it thoughtfully. Then he turned back to Arro and shoved it into the Faerian’s fat mouth.
Crumbs fell out his cheeks as he forced himself to swallow. “Fuck!”
“Doesn’t feel so good, does it,” Rangavar snickered.
“You have to admit it tastes great though. You’re missing out.”
“It does taste good,” the Darkal admitted. “Can I see some more?”
Arro offered him the pan.
Rangavar took another piece, leaned forward, and stuffed that into Arro’s mouth too. He grinned as the Faerian growled and rapidly chewed. “I can’t believe you fell for that twice.”
“Fine. No more bread for you,” Arro struggled through a mouth full of crumbs.
“That’s fair.” The smaller dragon lolled his head on the couch. “Fuck. I’m drunk as hell.”
“Yes. Yes you are.”
Arro settled more comfortably into the couch with his loaf of bread. Even if he hadn’t been drunk, it was genuinely good bread. He began to eat it more quickly.
“Are you going to stay up and eat all the bread?”
The Faerian looked at the massive chunk he had in his paw. “All of it? No way.” He slowly pushed the next chunk into his mouth. “I’m just drunk too and know better than to not eat.”
Rangavar rolled his head over to look at him, his eyes half closed. “If you’re drunk, did I win the drinking challenge then?”
Arro let out a short burst of laughter. “Definitely not.”
Looking drowsy, Rangavar gazed across the room. Arro felt tired too. They sat in silence again, the sound of Arro stuffing bread into his mouth the only thing undercutting it.
“Do you think I’d make it up those stairs?” Rangavar was gazing at them thoughtfully. “Do you think I’d make it to bed?”
Arro swallowed the food in his mouth. “Not a chance, if you want to survive ‘til morning.”
Rangavar eyed the larger dragon. “What if we went up together? Like how we got here. We got back here together.”
The Faerian chuckled. “Bold of you to assume I’m going anywhere near stairs right now.”
“Heh. ‘Cause you’re eating your bread.”
Arro shrugged. “That’s not why, but it is good.”
“Can I have a piece?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Arro moved the pan towards the Darkal again.
Rangavar immediately shoved another piece into Arro’s mouth. He burst out laughing, clutching his sides and burying his face into the couch. “Dumbass.”
Arro wasn’t mad. He was enjoying the bread. “Oh, I’m the dumbass? You’re going to be the one hungover tomorrow.” There was something about seeing Rangavar laugh that made him start laughing too.
The Darkal stayed curled up with his head buried. “I think we’re both going to be hungover.”
“Probably.” Arro looked down at the bread in his paws. “Let’s run an experiment. Why don’t you try that again and we’ll find out.”
“Try what?”
“Just keep giving me bread.”
Rangavar finally picked his head up and yawned. “You have two paws. Do it yourself.”
“You were laughing at doing it before.”
The Darkal readjusted himself and stretched big. “It’s not as funny if you ask me to.”
“Maybe I should start feeding YOU the bread.” There was still a lot left in the pan. “I swear you’re gonna regret not eating.”
The very drunk Darkal hugged his knees and watched him a moment. “You’re just trying to goad me into feeding your lazy ass.”
Arro held out the pan to him again. “If I eat it all, I’ll stop pressuring you to eat it.”
“So now you DO want to eat it all?”
The larger dragon paused. “Think I could?” He was feeling a little full.
Rangavar pushed himself up on the couch, repositioning himself so that he was kneeling closer. He snorted. “Give me that. I’ll help you find out if you stop asking me to eat the damn bread.”
He immediately tore pieces of bread and tried rapidly shoving them into the fat dragon’s mouth. Arro put out his paws. Around a full mouth, he mumbled, “I wasn’t ready!”
The Darkal only grinned sadistically and pushed in more. “You asked for this.”
“Mfff!”
“I mean, like, literally asked for this.” He slowed. “Sorry.”
Arro fought to swallow. After a long moment, he got it all down and caught his breath. “No, it’s good. I like the bread.” He was so full, but he was having fun. He leaned back. “You know you’re different when you’re drunk?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Arro nodded thoughtfully. He couldn’t really put it into words, so he just sat there.
The smaller dragon didn’t press him, just leaning back into the couch. “You’re different too.”
“I am?”
“Being drunk is like, your third mood.”
Arro raised a brow. “What does that mean?”
Snickering softly, he explained, “Your other two are blushing, and not-blushing. Wait, sorry, you just went back to the blushing mood.”
The fatter dragon leaned back and rolled his eyes.
Rangavar took the opportunity to stuff more bread in his mouth. Arro didn’t fight it. Why would he? The bread was good. This was good.
Rangavar had fallen asleep before the bread was actually gone. Arro guiltily finished the rest himself, feeling weirdly good for once about the dense, heavy feeling in his gut. He readjusted himself sluggishly on the couch, knowing he’d be stuck sleeping downstairs too for the night, but tried hard not to wake the other dragon.
He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling as his mind reeled back over the events of the day. It had been a hell of a day.
His brain got stuck on a conversation from earlier. Standing in the kitchen, Rangavar had said, “I didn’t know we even had cooking supplies like this.” He’d seen the smaller dragon pause and frown for a moment, like he realized he’d said that wrong, but didn’t correct himself or anything. But Arro noticed anyway. He knew. He snuggled more deeply into the couch as he mulled it over.
“I didn’t know we even had cooking supplies like this.”
He closed his eyes.
“I didn’t know we even had cooking supplies—”
He started to drift off.
“—we even had cooking supplies—”
His thoughts faded away.
“—we—”
He smiled slightly in his sleep.
We.