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Kill, Marry, Fuck Chapter 19
Rangavar and Arro have been warned to leave the mysterious research facility at the edge of town alone, but it has only made them more curious than ever. Maybe they can discover its secrets if Arro's fat ass can stop binge eating
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I guess this is kind of a cool-down chapter as the plot thickens. Although so does Arro's waistline, which should get a solid thumbs-up in my opinion.
Kill, Marry, Fuck
Chapter 19
Rangavar had a lot to think about on his way home that night. He was exhausted—he and Arro had essentially worked two shifts together back-to-back, since they hadn’t been split up as originally intended—but he knew he’d have trouble resting tonight. His head was too full of thoughts. Not to mention a little bit of anxiety.
Was Jethe Glitarian?
It seemed like the obvious conclusion. It was possible he’d just been playing with words, wrapping his status as an employee into a sentence meant to mislead; as Gemians and Darkals permeated society, most dragons had found ways to weave their way around lying by finding small truths in things and being intentionally vague about them.
He couldn’t figure out how Jethe could have done that to his cryptic warning, though.
“‘Our’ responsibility.”
He hadn’t really struck Rangavar as Glitarian, but that was the thing, he supposed; a lot of Glitarians just looked like everyone else. Normal.
Rangavar absentmindedly rubbed his fingers over the side of his jaw, scratching at the two tiny spikes there. He shifted his wings a bit, the black claws at the top glinting faintly with the light of streetlamps he passed. He wondered what Arro would say when he got home. He was expecting questions, of course, about what Jethe had said after he left. But what was Rangavar supposed to say?
And he had an even bigger problem; Rangavar himself really, really wanted to know what was going on, but how would he find out without Arro’s help?
He thought back to Arro stealing the info from the computer; it was saved on his wristband. They hadn’t had a chance to go over it yet. And that information could help Rangavar—the obvious catch being that Arro would also be going over it with him. He was at the Faerian’s mercy for that. Whatever he learned, the Faerian would also learn.
He strolled through the front door to see Arro playing the videogame. A few things greeted him on the countertop in the kitchen: Bread and two jars of that stuff Arro liked putting on his bread, that he had shown Rangavar while making sandwiches. There was also a box with a picture of crackers on the front, and a few bags he didn’t recognize.
Arro had one of the bags open next to him on the couch, too absorbed in the game to notice Rangavar come through the door at first. It didn’t smell like anything sweet; maybe they were a kind of health food he was trying out.
Arro finally noticed him as he crunched down on a handful of flat circles from the bag. He held one up; “Want a potato chip?”
“Uhh, sure.”
The other dragon paused the game as Rangavar went to sit next to him on the couch. Arro flattened his ears sheepishly. “No offense, but I, uh, didn’t really feel like fruit tonight.”
Rangavar tentatively reached into the bag and immediately noted the greasey coating. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He popped one in his mouth. He fought to not make a face as the taste of salt dominated the oily surface.
Arro was watching him try it—as usual. “You’re so picky. What are you used to eating? Sand?”
“I’m not picky,” Rangavar managed as he forced himself to swallow.
“Uh-huh.”
Arro stuffed another handful into his mouth before putting down the bag and the game controller. “So…”
Rangavar looked away. He answered the question before it was asked. “Jethe gave me a more ‘direct’ warning. I don’t think we’re going to get away with anything else, Arro.”
The Faerian snorted. “Well fortunately, they don’t know about this.” He held up his chubby arm to show off his wristband. “We can read these files whenever we want and they won’t have a way to stop us.”
Rangavar shifted his eyes away. “Yeah.”
Arro frowned. “I thought you’d be more excited about that, actually.”
Rangavar sighed. “Sorry, I just… I’m not convinced this is a good idea anymore.” He died a little inside as he said it. Being forced to choose between an untapped wellspring of info, or getting Arro in trouble? Just a few weeks ago, the choice would have been easy. Now, though…
He was briefly annoyed to see Arro just go ahead and pull up the info on his wristband anyway. Maybe also a little relieved; it was out of his own paws now. He supposed he’d done everything he could to prevent this, but alas, the Faerian was just too determined…
Rangavar peered over at it curiously, although he had no idea what it said. Arro was intently staring at the tiny screen, sometimes pausing to scroll with one of his other fingers.
They were quiet for a really long time.
Rangavar fidgeted until he couldn’t contain his curiosity. “Well?”
Arro pricked his ears, frowning intently at the screen. “It’s not what I expected.” He went to hold his arm out for Rangavar to see, then paused. “Oh, right,” he stammered. “Well, it’s not about weapons or anything. It’s more like…”
Rangavar stared up at him. “…Like..?” he prompted.
“Well, it’s like a bunch of weather reports.”
“Weather reports?” Rangavar wrinkled his snout. He couldn’t think of anything less helpful or less related to the things he’d seen in the lab.
“Yeah.” Arro sighed. “What a waste. It’s like, a bunch of data on atmospheric pressure, air composition, and stuff.”
Rangavar pricked his ears. That made slightly more sense. “Like data on the collapsed atmosphere on Glitara?”
He immediately regretted sharing his thoughts as the Faerian suddenly perked up. “Do you think they’re studying how Glitarian technology operates in other worlds’ atmospheres?”
“Er…” Rangavar wanted to bang his head on a wall. Arro was so caught up on this. He had no idea what they were stumbling into, no sense of the danger, and certainly no sense of what Glitarians were really studying on Karraden. Rangavar had a few guesses himself, but more educated ones.
He was almost positive Arro was assuming it was some sort of secret base for mass producing weapons, and at this point, Rangavar couldn’t correct him with his own suspicions. Even if he’d known how to explain, Arro would wonder why he’d been keeping the info from him.
Wait, why did Arro’s feelings matter so much? Rangavar realized he had no reason to worry about how Arro felt. Well, they did live together. And work together. And do everything together. He frowned. Maybe he didn’t want to disappoint Arro because they were stuck around each other so often, and he didn’t want the tension. That must be why he was worried about making him upset. There was no other possible explanation for why he cared about Arro’s feelings so much. None whatsoever.
“Rangavar?”
He jumped a little. “Sorry, just thinking…”
Arro narrowed his eyes. “So what do you think it means, then?”
“Huh?”
The fat Faerian rolled his eyes. “Were you listening to anything I said?”
“You were talking?”
Arro sighed.
Rangavar turned away so that the other dragon couldn’t see his scales turn darker. “Sorry.”
The larger dragon looked towards the counter. “I think I’m just going to go make some sandwiches right now. I need a break from thinking about this.”
Rangavar got up from the couch. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” He stretched, and started heading towards the shower room. “I think I could use a break too.”
Closing the door behind him, he was briefly tempted to wash the tingly aftertaste of the potato chip out of his mouth. He thought that would be a bit petty, though, and decided to hang out in front of the full-length mirror instead. The more time he wasted, the less questions Arro would have the chance to ask him.
He checked himself out in the mirror, running his paw down his smooth stomach. It was practically back to normal by now. He inspected the way that it curved slightly under his ribcage with a furrowed brow. Is that what Arro meant by ‘concave’? That wasn’t concave, lots of people looked like that. Probably. Well, it’s not like anyone could see his actual ribs, he wasn’t that small. ‘Concave’. Pfft.
He turned the other way, flexing his arms. Technically, he was toned, as his body worked to put out excess magic before it could accumulate into fat. The obvious downside of constantly creating magic being that magic gave him all his strength. There wasn’t an ounce of muscle. Not that he was complaining about being strong, but the little lean muscle he had on his frame was nothing to look at.
He put his paw on his chin. Didn’t he pass by a gym every day on his way to and from work? He wondered if he could bulk up. Get some nice abs.
‘Concave.’ Arro didn’t know what he was talking about.
As he got ready to get in the shower to wash off one of the hardest days of work so far, he wondered if Arro would be interested in going to a gym. Working out was a great way to slim down. They could go together.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment.
Why did he want to go with Arro?
He knew he wanted to help Arro, but he realized lately, it seemed as if they’d spent almost every second of their free time together. The Faerian hadn’t complained yet, but it suddenly occurred to Rangavar that he should back off.
He stepped carefully into the shower. Maybe he could at least mention the gym to Arro. He didn’t have to mention that he would be there, of course. Just that it would be good for Arro to work out. Whether or not Rangavar were there. Not that he wouldn’t be there. He would be. To work out.
He took a while in the shower room as he washed off and gave himself time to think.
When he came out a while later, he was greeted by the sight of an awful lot of sandwiches. Arro was leaning over the counter, using his tall frame to his advantage as he leaned far over his massive gut to reach the counter. As it was, the overhanging belly was pressed up against the edge defiantly as he strained to grab his ingredients.
Rangavar frowned. He didn’t remember Arro’s massive roll getting in the way the last time he saw him in the kitchen. He must have missed it, though; in theory, Arro was probably starting to drop a few pounds, since he’d been eating healthy and restricting his meals for a few days.
He was making an awful lot of sandwiches, though.
Rangavar was originally going to go sit on the couch and leave Arro alone. A few minutes after he plopped down, though, and watched the Faerian finish up stress eating his fourth sandwich, he wondered if he should say something. Arro had been trying so hard to stick to his diet the past couple of days. On the other paw, was it really any of Rangavar’s business?
Rangavar pricked his ears as Arro suddenly caught him watching, another bite of sandwich in his mouth. “What?” he growled through his stuffed cheeks.
Rangavar scowled back. “What? You watch me eat all the time.”
Arro’s cheeks started to turn red. “That’s different.”
“It is? How?”
The fat Faerian put down the other half of the sandwich he’d bitten. He was frustrated. Embarrassed. A little bit angry?
Rangavar flattened his ears unsurely.
Arro leaned his elbows on the counter, his torso stretched far so that there was room for his bulging midsection. “Sometimes I look at you when you’re trying something new, to see if you like it. When people watch me eat, it’s because…” He faltered. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, you know. When someone my size eats, it’s just considered gross.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “No one is staring because they think you’re ‘gross’.” He made finger quotes.
“Would you stop saying stuff like that?” Arro’s tone startled Rangavar. Now, Arro was more upset than any of the other emotions. “It’s extremely invalidating to hear that from someone who has never known what it’s like.”
Rangavar averted his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He meant it.
Arro wasn’t convinced. “No. You know what?” Rangavar was startled to see tears in his eyes. “You’re worst of all.”
“What??”
“You’ve been judging silently. You’ve been acting like you don’t. But then I see you staring at me just now, because I’m eating, and—” he was cut off by a crack in his voice.
“Arro.” Rangavar pushed himself up from the couch. He approached cautiously; he wasn’t sure how to comfort the other dragon. Rangavar felt a bit guilty as he realized Arro was right about one thing; Rangavar really hadn’t lived his experience.
Arro put his head in his paws, hiding his face.
The smaller dragon bit his lip and looked away awkwardly. “I’ve never judged you about anything. Sometimes I wish Faerians could hear lies, so that you’d know I’m telling the truth.”
The Faerian lifted his head, wiping his eyes in between glaring at Rangavar. “Well it’s all well and good to say that, but it doesn’t mean fuck-all in real life.”
The Darkal made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I know I’ve never had your problems, but when people look at you, what if they’re just… I don’t know. What if they’re thinking your food looks amazing, or actually thinking you’re attractive, or maybe nothing at all? A lot of people stare without even realizing their eyes are on something.”
Sniffling a few times, Arro tried to calm his breathing. “Heh. They’re definitely not thinking I’m attractive. I’m pretty sure they’re only looking at one thing.” He self-consciously clutched his belly. The massive rolls bounced as he squished his gut.
“What, that you’re fat?”
Arro glanced back up at him sharply. Oops. He kept forgetting Arro didn’t like that particular ‘F’ word.
Rangavar dismissively waved a paw. “You act like those two things are mutually exclusive.”
Arro’s cheeks began to turn red. “Well, yeah. They are.”
“Not true. You’re very attractive.”
Rangavar tried to not roll his eyes as Arro blushed furiously, as if he were surprised or something. He tried to think of other encouraging things to say. “I’m sure Jade thinks you’re attractive. You don’t trust her judgement?”
Arro blushed harder. “I mean, of course I do, but… I mean, I wasn’t ‘this’ big when we met. She’s just kind of… stuck with me, now.”
The Darkal fidgeted with his claws. “When it came down to it, she chose you over me.”
They looked at each other for a moment in silence.
“Rangavar…”
“No, I’m… I’m okay with it.” Rangavar nodded thoughtfully to himself. “I just want her to be happy. Y’know?”
Arro shook his head and looked down at the counter for a second. “She talked about you a lot. She loved you.”
“Yeah…” He wanted to say that he’d never stop loving her, but it wasn’t the point.
At least Arro had seemed to calm down a bit. Rangavar’s eyes grazed over the counter. There were a lot of sandwiches, and also a lot of crumbs from their fallen brethren. “Do you want help with that?”
“Huh?”
Rangavar gestured vaguely. “Well, turning all that bread into sandwiches…” Arro had been struggling a bit to reach over his belly towards the far end of the center counter. “I can stand on the other side and hand you stuff. Or something.”
“Uh… okay.” Arro shifted awkwardly. “Really?”
“Well yeah…” Rangavar shrugged. “I really wasn’t thinking about you eating, you know. Or ‘judging’. I was just looking at the sandwiches.”
Arro blushed. “Sorry for accusing you earlier.”
“Sorry for making you feel bad. I seem to do that a lot. I don’t mean to.”
Arro didn’t meet his eyes. He was looking at a slice of bread on the counter as he slowly resumed smearing stuff on it. “I guess I find it hard to believe that there’s someone who doesn’t feel disgusted when they look at me.”
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who also aren’t thinking that.”
Arro was silent for a long moment. “Do you really think I’m attractive?” His heart was beating really fast. Rangavar hadn’t meant to make him anxious.
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “Of course you are, and sooner or later you should start to believe that.”
The fat Faerian was frozen, now staring at him.
“Like everyone else does, I mean,” Rangavar added. Obviously. Because he was sure everyone thought that. Of course that’s what he meant. Not just particular to Rangavar, or anything.
Seeming a bit unsure, Arro was looking down at his sandwich. He was blushing again. They were quiet another long moment.
“Can you pass me the peanut butter?”
Rangavar grabbed the jar of oily stuff and slid it over. He marveled at how someone had taken a bunch of those tiny annoying nuts and turned them into a fatty paste. He watched curiously as Arro spread it on more bread. “Can I try?”
“Try what?”
“Making sandwiches.” Rangavar looked away. “I mean, I don’t want to ruin your bread or anything… never mind.”
“No, it’s okay…” He slid some bread over to Rangavar. “Want to exchange the bread for some jelly?”
The Darkal grabbed the goopy sugar gel and slid it over to Arro. That one, he was less familiar with, but he remembered it from the last time Arro made sandwiches.
Rangavar got to work on the peanut butter so that they could take turns swapping the different jars. After a moment, he noticed the Faerian watching him.
“You’re not supposed to stab it.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve got to scoop it.”
“I’m doing whatever you just did.”
Arro half-grinned and moved around the counter. “You act like you’ve never made food in your life.”
Rangavar scowled down at his bread. That was true, actually, but he wasn’t going to give Arro the satisfaction. “You’re more of the food expert than me.”
“You don’t have to be an ‘expert’ to scoop peanut butter, Rangavar.” Arro gently took his paw to guide it.
Rangavar uncomfortably pulled his paw away. “I’m not a hatchling.”
Arro took a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh, grab you or anything…” He flattened his ears. “I keep forgetting. It’s just—”
“It’s fine, I don’t want to ruin your peanut butter,” said Rangavar quickly. He looked away as he felt his cheeks get hot. He supposed he hadn’t really minded Arro touching his paw, but it was pretty patronizing. Everyone constantly treated Darkals like they were stupid. It took a lot of work to prove otherwise, and Rangavar already knew he was at a disadvantage by Arro knowing he couldn’t read…
The Faerian had gently taken the knife from him and began showing him the ‘correct’ way to make sandwiches, despite Rangavar being pretty sure he’d been doing that. He stiffened a bit to feel Arro’s huge belly press into him from behind, pushing Rangavar’s own hips against the counter, but the Faerian didn’t seem to notice. He was probably used to bumping things, and maybe it didn’t register anymore. The overhanging fat was actually soft as it squished up behind him.
“Do you want to go to the gym with me sometime?” he asked.
Arro paused. Rangavar realized that had sort of come out of nowhere as his thoughts wandered. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I was thinking about it earlier. About what you said, mostly. When you made fun of me this morning.” He was glad Arro was standing behind him so that the larger dragon couldn’t see him blush. Blushing was usually Arro’s job. It didn’t feel good.
Arro leaned back a bit. Then Rangavar felt him spike with embarrassment again as the fat Faerian realized he was leaning on Rangavar and stumbled back. “Sorry, I—”
“I know you’ve been dieting really hard,” Rangavar interrupted, before Arro could start doing that thing where he apologized about his weight over and over. “But it might help, you know?
“I wasn’t trying to make fun of you.” Arro flattened his ears, still incredibly flustered.
“No, you’re right though.” Rangavar sighed. “I should build some muscle or something. I was just asking if you wanted to come, because, well… you’ve been working really hard. I didn’t know if it would help,” he finished awkwardly. He didn’t directly mention his weight because he was trying really hard to be better about not getting him all embarrassed and stuff.
Instead, Arro looked really guilty for a second. Rangavar frowned.
“Sure… maybe I’ll try it out,” he finally said. He handed the knife back to Rangavar. “I—I don’t think I’ve been working as hard on my diet as I probably should be.”
Rangavar shrugged. “Who cares about a few sandwiches?”
The other dragon just fidgeted behind him as he looked over Rangavar’s shoulder to supervise his sandwich skills. He was still feeling guilty and ashamed, but Rangavar was impressed by how well Arro was doing. “I think you’re doing great.”
A pause.
“I cheated the other day.”
Rangavar pricked his ears, but shrugged, realizing what he was talking about. “I ate half of the second pizza, remember? You didn’t have all of it.” Rangavar remembered every second of it; he’d felt sick afterwards. He never wanted to look at pizza again.
Arro pushed his index fingers together. “I… I may have eaten, uh, more than that. While you were at work. While you weren’t here,” he admitted.
“You ate more pizza without me?” Maybe that’s how Arro knew that someone would be willing to bring it all the way to the house.
“Well… Yeah. I did. And maybe some other stuff.” The fat Faerian looked away in shame.
“Pizza is pretty good,” Rangavar admitted. Okay, maybe he’d have pizza again sometime. Just definitely not half the circle.
Arro was silently watching him stab the peanut butter. “That’s not really the takeaway from this conversation I expected. But I’m glad you like pizza.”
Rangavar gave up on the peanut butter. “Do you think maybe I should try putting jelly on the bread now?”
“Are you going to just stab it and get mad when it doesn’t work?”
The Darkal glowered down at the jar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is easy.”
“Why don’t you just let me do it?”
He reluctantly handed Arro the knife.
“Look at the bright side. If you ever need to stab something, you’re really good at that.”
Rangavar made a face at him.
The Faerian expertly spread peanut butter on the bread. It was totally the same way Rangavar had been doing it, although it worked better when Arro did it for some reason. Not because he was doing anything differently, of course. Rangavar had been using the peanut butter exactly like that.
“You can go ahead and eat some of the sandwiches. I’ll finish up making the rest. We can store leftovers after eating, instead of having to make more sandwiches next time we want them.”
The smaller dragon eyed the sticky chunks of bread. “Maybe later.”
“What, are they more flavorful than the air you’re used to eating?”
Rangavar wrinkled his nose. “Food has changed a lot over the past few centuries. For thousands of years, it was exactly the same. It was a huge deal when bread was invented. Now, everyone’s adding fat to it and smearing sugar on top.”
“No wonder you’re obsessed with fruit.”
“Fruit’s never done any wrong.”
“Fruit’s full of sugar too, you know.”
“So?”
“So it’s like the same thing.”
“If it’s the same thing, why don’t you like fruit?” Rangavar pointed out.
Arro scowled down at his latest sandwich creation.
“That’s what I thought.” Rangavar: 1. Arro: 0.
Rangavar resumed passing him stuff as the larger dragon finished up the last of the bread. Arro fanned his wings a bit and wiped sweat off his forehead while holding the knife.
Rangavar snorted. “You just got peanut butter on your face.” He licked his thumb, stood on his toes, and swiped it off.
Arro froze with a look of shock.
Rangavar took in his shocked expression with a furrowed brow. “What—You did that to me the other night. I thought that was just how—I thought that must just something people did.”
Arro was blushing furiously as he put down the knife on the counter.
Rangavar put up his paws. “Sorry,” he stammered. He couldn’t sense anger, exactly, but he was hoping Arro wasn’t upset.
“I’m going to go wash it off,” said Arro, sounding a bit breathless.
Rangavar flattened his ears guiltily. He just kept finding ways to make Arro hate him.
Arro worked hard not to slam the door behind him in the shower room and tried to slow his breathing. Rangavar had just touched his face.
Rangavar touched his face.
Rangavar touched his face.
Rangavar touched his face.
Arro rubbed the side of his forehead. He was right, there was oil from the peanut butter there. He frantically went to the sink. Arro stared in the mirror, starting to notice every leftover crumb, every smear of peanut butter, every glob of sticky jelly on his scales; it was a testament to his disgusting eating behavior. It was ridiculous to get excited about Rangavar wiping food off his fat face. How could he be excited about that? Despite calling him attractive earlier, he had to find that pretty gross.
He suddenly thought back to that. Referring to him as attractive. He’d said it like it was obvious; that it was only a fact. Arro was sure it didn’t mean anything. Yet, he had felt like passing out at the time. Rangavar looked at him and saw someone ‘attractive’? His heart had almost stopped.
He leaned his paws on the edges of the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He could see every flaw staring back at him.
He couldn’t believe Rangavar had touched his face.
He finally turned on the cold water, but instead of scrubbing that one spot of peanut butter, he furiously scrubbed his whole face. His cheeks felt hot. He wanted to shove his whole head under the faucet.
It had been soft, gentle, and seemingly completely oblivious. Arro wanted to bang his head on a wall. How could an actual Darkal not sense his feelings? Wasn’t that their whole thing? Maybe because it was mostly nerves. That must be the squeezing feeling in his chest. Nerves.
Didn’t Rangavar see he was tormenting the poor fat dragon?
Maybe that was Arro’s punishment, he mused, as he finished removing every hint of his disgusting eating habits from his face. There was no way Rangavar was that oblivious. No possible way.
Rangavar had touched his face.
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
I guess this is kind of a cool-down chapter as the plot thickens. Although so does Arro's waistline, which should get a solid thumbs-up in my opinion.
Kill, Marry, Fuck
Chapter 19
Rangavar had a lot to think about on his way home that night. He was exhausted—he and Arro had essentially worked two shifts together back-to-back, since they hadn’t been split up as originally intended—but he knew he’d have trouble resting tonight. His head was too full of thoughts. Not to mention a little bit of anxiety.
Was Jethe Glitarian?
It seemed like the obvious conclusion. It was possible he’d just been playing with words, wrapping his status as an employee into a sentence meant to mislead; as Gemians and Darkals permeated society, most dragons had found ways to weave their way around lying by finding small truths in things and being intentionally vague about them.
He couldn’t figure out how Jethe could have done that to his cryptic warning, though.
“‘Our’ responsibility.”
He hadn’t really struck Rangavar as Glitarian, but that was the thing, he supposed; a lot of Glitarians just looked like everyone else. Normal.
Rangavar absentmindedly rubbed his fingers over the side of his jaw, scratching at the two tiny spikes there. He shifted his wings a bit, the black claws at the top glinting faintly with the light of streetlamps he passed. He wondered what Arro would say when he got home. He was expecting questions, of course, about what Jethe had said after he left. But what was Rangavar supposed to say?
And he had an even bigger problem; Rangavar himself really, really wanted to know what was going on, but how would he find out without Arro’s help?
He thought back to Arro stealing the info from the computer; it was saved on his wristband. They hadn’t had a chance to go over it yet. And that information could help Rangavar—the obvious catch being that Arro would also be going over it with him. He was at the Faerian’s mercy for that. Whatever he learned, the Faerian would also learn.
He strolled through the front door to see Arro playing the videogame. A few things greeted him on the countertop in the kitchen: Bread and two jars of that stuff Arro liked putting on his bread, that he had shown Rangavar while making sandwiches. There was also a box with a picture of crackers on the front, and a few bags he didn’t recognize.
Arro had one of the bags open next to him on the couch, too absorbed in the game to notice Rangavar come through the door at first. It didn’t smell like anything sweet; maybe they were a kind of health food he was trying out.
Arro finally noticed him as he crunched down on a handful of flat circles from the bag. He held one up; “Want a potato chip?”
“Uhh, sure.”
The other dragon paused the game as Rangavar went to sit next to him on the couch. Arro flattened his ears sheepishly. “No offense, but I, uh, didn’t really feel like fruit tonight.”
Rangavar tentatively reached into the bag and immediately noted the greasey coating. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He popped one in his mouth. He fought to not make a face as the taste of salt dominated the oily surface.
Arro was watching him try it—as usual. “You’re so picky. What are you used to eating? Sand?”
“I’m not picky,” Rangavar managed as he forced himself to swallow.
“Uh-huh.”
Arro stuffed another handful into his mouth before putting down the bag and the game controller. “So…”
Rangavar looked away. He answered the question before it was asked. “Jethe gave me a more ‘direct’ warning. I don’t think we’re going to get away with anything else, Arro.”
The Faerian snorted. “Well fortunately, they don’t know about this.” He held up his chubby arm to show off his wristband. “We can read these files whenever we want and they won’t have a way to stop us.”
Rangavar shifted his eyes away. “Yeah.”
Arro frowned. “I thought you’d be more excited about that, actually.”
Rangavar sighed. “Sorry, I just… I’m not convinced this is a good idea anymore.” He died a little inside as he said it. Being forced to choose between an untapped wellspring of info, or getting Arro in trouble? Just a few weeks ago, the choice would have been easy. Now, though…
He was briefly annoyed to see Arro just go ahead and pull up the info on his wristband anyway. Maybe also a little relieved; it was out of his own paws now. He supposed he’d done everything he could to prevent this, but alas, the Faerian was just too determined…
Rangavar peered over at it curiously, although he had no idea what it said. Arro was intently staring at the tiny screen, sometimes pausing to scroll with one of his other fingers.
They were quiet for a really long time.
Rangavar fidgeted until he couldn’t contain his curiosity. “Well?”
Arro pricked his ears, frowning intently at the screen. “It’s not what I expected.” He went to hold his arm out for Rangavar to see, then paused. “Oh, right,” he stammered. “Well, it’s not about weapons or anything. It’s more like…”
Rangavar stared up at him. “…Like..?” he prompted.
“Well, it’s like a bunch of weather reports.”
“Weather reports?” Rangavar wrinkled his snout. He couldn’t think of anything less helpful or less related to the things he’d seen in the lab.
“Yeah.” Arro sighed. “What a waste. It’s like, a bunch of data on atmospheric pressure, air composition, and stuff.”
Rangavar pricked his ears. That made slightly more sense. “Like data on the collapsed atmosphere on Glitara?”
He immediately regretted sharing his thoughts as the Faerian suddenly perked up. “Do you think they’re studying how Glitarian technology operates in other worlds’ atmospheres?”
“Er…” Rangavar wanted to bang his head on a wall. Arro was so caught up on this. He had no idea what they were stumbling into, no sense of the danger, and certainly no sense of what Glitarians were really studying on Karraden. Rangavar had a few guesses himself, but more educated ones.
He was almost positive Arro was assuming it was some sort of secret base for mass producing weapons, and at this point, Rangavar couldn’t correct him with his own suspicions. Even if he’d known how to explain, Arro would wonder why he’d been keeping the info from him.
Wait, why did Arro’s feelings matter so much? Rangavar realized he had no reason to worry about how Arro felt. Well, they did live together. And work together. And do everything together. He frowned. Maybe he didn’t want to disappoint Arro because they were stuck around each other so often, and he didn’t want the tension. That must be why he was worried about making him upset. There was no other possible explanation for why he cared about Arro’s feelings so much. None whatsoever.
“Rangavar?”
He jumped a little. “Sorry, just thinking…”
Arro narrowed his eyes. “So what do you think it means, then?”
“Huh?”
The fat Faerian rolled his eyes. “Were you listening to anything I said?”
“You were talking?”
Arro sighed.
Rangavar turned away so that the other dragon couldn’t see his scales turn darker. “Sorry.”
The larger dragon looked towards the counter. “I think I’m just going to go make some sandwiches right now. I need a break from thinking about this.”
Rangavar got up from the couch. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” He stretched, and started heading towards the shower room. “I think I could use a break too.”
Closing the door behind him, he was briefly tempted to wash the tingly aftertaste of the potato chip out of his mouth. He thought that would be a bit petty, though, and decided to hang out in front of the full-length mirror instead. The more time he wasted, the less questions Arro would have the chance to ask him.
He checked himself out in the mirror, running his paw down his smooth stomach. It was practically back to normal by now. He inspected the way that it curved slightly under his ribcage with a furrowed brow. Is that what Arro meant by ‘concave’? That wasn’t concave, lots of people looked like that. Probably. Well, it’s not like anyone could see his actual ribs, he wasn’t that small. ‘Concave’. Pfft.
He turned the other way, flexing his arms. Technically, he was toned, as his body worked to put out excess magic before it could accumulate into fat. The obvious downside of constantly creating magic being that magic gave him all his strength. There wasn’t an ounce of muscle. Not that he was complaining about being strong, but the little lean muscle he had on his frame was nothing to look at.
He put his paw on his chin. Didn’t he pass by a gym every day on his way to and from work? He wondered if he could bulk up. Get some nice abs.
‘Concave.’ Arro didn’t know what he was talking about.
As he got ready to get in the shower to wash off one of the hardest days of work so far, he wondered if Arro would be interested in going to a gym. Working out was a great way to slim down. They could go together.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment.
Why did he want to go with Arro?
He knew he wanted to help Arro, but he realized lately, it seemed as if they’d spent almost every second of their free time together. The Faerian hadn’t complained yet, but it suddenly occurred to Rangavar that he should back off.
He stepped carefully into the shower. Maybe he could at least mention the gym to Arro. He didn’t have to mention that he would be there, of course. Just that it would be good for Arro to work out. Whether or not Rangavar were there. Not that he wouldn’t be there. He would be. To work out.
He took a while in the shower room as he washed off and gave himself time to think.
When he came out a while later, he was greeted by the sight of an awful lot of sandwiches. Arro was leaning over the counter, using his tall frame to his advantage as he leaned far over his massive gut to reach the counter. As it was, the overhanging belly was pressed up against the edge defiantly as he strained to grab his ingredients.
Rangavar frowned. He didn’t remember Arro’s massive roll getting in the way the last time he saw him in the kitchen. He must have missed it, though; in theory, Arro was probably starting to drop a few pounds, since he’d been eating healthy and restricting his meals for a few days.
He was making an awful lot of sandwiches, though.
Rangavar was originally going to go sit on the couch and leave Arro alone. A few minutes after he plopped down, though, and watched the Faerian finish up stress eating his fourth sandwich, he wondered if he should say something. Arro had been trying so hard to stick to his diet the past couple of days. On the other paw, was it really any of Rangavar’s business?
Rangavar pricked his ears as Arro suddenly caught him watching, another bite of sandwich in his mouth. “What?” he growled through his stuffed cheeks.
Rangavar scowled back. “What? You watch me eat all the time.”
Arro’s cheeks started to turn red. “That’s different.”
“It is? How?”
The fat Faerian put down the other half of the sandwich he’d bitten. He was frustrated. Embarrassed. A little bit angry?
Rangavar flattened his ears unsurely.
Arro leaned his elbows on the counter, his torso stretched far so that there was room for his bulging midsection. “Sometimes I look at you when you’re trying something new, to see if you like it. When people watch me eat, it’s because…” He faltered. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, you know. When someone my size eats, it’s just considered gross.”
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “No one is staring because they think you’re ‘gross’.” He made finger quotes.
“Would you stop saying stuff like that?” Arro’s tone startled Rangavar. Now, Arro was more upset than any of the other emotions. “It’s extremely invalidating to hear that from someone who has never known what it’s like.”
Rangavar averted his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He meant it.
Arro wasn’t convinced. “No. You know what?” Rangavar was startled to see tears in his eyes. “You’re worst of all.”
“What??”
“You’ve been judging silently. You’ve been acting like you don’t. But then I see you staring at me just now, because I’m eating, and—” he was cut off by a crack in his voice.
“Arro.” Rangavar pushed himself up from the couch. He approached cautiously; he wasn’t sure how to comfort the other dragon. Rangavar felt a bit guilty as he realized Arro was right about one thing; Rangavar really hadn’t lived his experience.
Arro put his head in his paws, hiding his face.
The smaller dragon bit his lip and looked away awkwardly. “I’ve never judged you about anything. Sometimes I wish Faerians could hear lies, so that you’d know I’m telling the truth.”
The Faerian lifted his head, wiping his eyes in between glaring at Rangavar. “Well it’s all well and good to say that, but it doesn’t mean fuck-all in real life.”
The Darkal made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I know I’ve never had your problems, but when people look at you, what if they’re just… I don’t know. What if they’re thinking your food looks amazing, or actually thinking you’re attractive, or maybe nothing at all? A lot of people stare without even realizing their eyes are on something.”
Sniffling a few times, Arro tried to calm his breathing. “Heh. They’re definitely not thinking I’m attractive. I’m pretty sure they’re only looking at one thing.” He self-consciously clutched his belly. The massive rolls bounced as he squished his gut.
“What, that you’re fat?”
Arro glanced back up at him sharply. Oops. He kept forgetting Arro didn’t like that particular ‘F’ word.
Rangavar dismissively waved a paw. “You act like those two things are mutually exclusive.”
Arro’s cheeks began to turn red. “Well, yeah. They are.”
“Not true. You’re very attractive.”
Rangavar tried to not roll his eyes as Arro blushed furiously, as if he were surprised or something. He tried to think of other encouraging things to say. “I’m sure Jade thinks you’re attractive. You don’t trust her judgement?”
Arro blushed harder. “I mean, of course I do, but… I mean, I wasn’t ‘this’ big when we met. She’s just kind of… stuck with me, now.”
The Darkal fidgeted with his claws. “When it came down to it, she chose you over me.”
They looked at each other for a moment in silence.
“Rangavar…”
“No, I’m… I’m okay with it.” Rangavar nodded thoughtfully to himself. “I just want her to be happy. Y’know?”
Arro shook his head and looked down at the counter for a second. “She talked about you a lot. She loved you.”
“Yeah…” He wanted to say that he’d never stop loving her, but it wasn’t the point.
At least Arro had seemed to calm down a bit. Rangavar’s eyes grazed over the counter. There were a lot of sandwiches, and also a lot of crumbs from their fallen brethren. “Do you want help with that?”
“Huh?”
Rangavar gestured vaguely. “Well, turning all that bread into sandwiches…” Arro had been struggling a bit to reach over his belly towards the far end of the center counter. “I can stand on the other side and hand you stuff. Or something.”
“Uh… okay.” Arro shifted awkwardly. “Really?”
“Well yeah…” Rangavar shrugged. “I really wasn’t thinking about you eating, you know. Or ‘judging’. I was just looking at the sandwiches.”
Arro blushed. “Sorry for accusing you earlier.”
“Sorry for making you feel bad. I seem to do that a lot. I don’t mean to.”
Arro didn’t meet his eyes. He was looking at a slice of bread on the counter as he slowly resumed smearing stuff on it. “I guess I find it hard to believe that there’s someone who doesn’t feel disgusted when they look at me.”
“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who also aren’t thinking that.”
Arro was silent for a long moment. “Do you really think I’m attractive?” His heart was beating really fast. Rangavar hadn’t meant to make him anxious.
Rangavar rolled his eyes. “Of course you are, and sooner or later you should start to believe that.”
The fat Faerian was frozen, now staring at him.
“Like everyone else does, I mean,” Rangavar added. Obviously. Because he was sure everyone thought that. Of course that’s what he meant. Not just particular to Rangavar, or anything.
Seeming a bit unsure, Arro was looking down at his sandwich. He was blushing again. They were quiet another long moment.
“Can you pass me the peanut butter?”
Rangavar grabbed the jar of oily stuff and slid it over. He marveled at how someone had taken a bunch of those tiny annoying nuts and turned them into a fatty paste. He watched curiously as Arro spread it on more bread. “Can I try?”
“Try what?”
“Making sandwiches.” Rangavar looked away. “I mean, I don’t want to ruin your bread or anything… never mind.”
“No, it’s okay…” He slid some bread over to Rangavar. “Want to exchange the bread for some jelly?”
The Darkal grabbed the goopy sugar gel and slid it over to Arro. That one, he was less familiar with, but he remembered it from the last time Arro made sandwiches.
Rangavar got to work on the peanut butter so that they could take turns swapping the different jars. After a moment, he noticed the Faerian watching him.
“You’re not supposed to stab it.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve got to scoop it.”
“I’m doing whatever you just did.”
Arro half-grinned and moved around the counter. “You act like you’ve never made food in your life.”
Rangavar scowled down at his bread. That was true, actually, but he wasn’t going to give Arro the satisfaction. “You’re more of the food expert than me.”
“You don’t have to be an ‘expert’ to scoop peanut butter, Rangavar.” Arro gently took his paw to guide it.
Rangavar uncomfortably pulled his paw away. “I’m not a hatchling.”
Arro took a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh, grab you or anything…” He flattened his ears. “I keep forgetting. It’s just—”
“It’s fine, I don’t want to ruin your peanut butter,” said Rangavar quickly. He looked away as he felt his cheeks get hot. He supposed he hadn’t really minded Arro touching his paw, but it was pretty patronizing. Everyone constantly treated Darkals like they were stupid. It took a lot of work to prove otherwise, and Rangavar already knew he was at a disadvantage by Arro knowing he couldn’t read…
The Faerian had gently taken the knife from him and began showing him the ‘correct’ way to make sandwiches, despite Rangavar being pretty sure he’d been doing that. He stiffened a bit to feel Arro’s huge belly press into him from behind, pushing Rangavar’s own hips against the counter, but the Faerian didn’t seem to notice. He was probably used to bumping things, and maybe it didn’t register anymore. The overhanging fat was actually soft as it squished up behind him.
“Do you want to go to the gym with me sometime?” he asked.
Arro paused. Rangavar realized that had sort of come out of nowhere as his thoughts wandered. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I was thinking about it earlier. About what you said, mostly. When you made fun of me this morning.” He was glad Arro was standing behind him so that the larger dragon couldn’t see him blush. Blushing was usually Arro’s job. It didn’t feel good.
Arro leaned back a bit. Then Rangavar felt him spike with embarrassment again as the fat Faerian realized he was leaning on Rangavar and stumbled back. “Sorry, I—”
“I know you’ve been dieting really hard,” Rangavar interrupted, before Arro could start doing that thing where he apologized about his weight over and over. “But it might help, you know?
“I wasn’t trying to make fun of you.” Arro flattened his ears, still incredibly flustered.
“No, you’re right though.” Rangavar sighed. “I should build some muscle or something. I was just asking if you wanted to come, because, well… you’ve been working really hard. I didn’t know if it would help,” he finished awkwardly. He didn’t directly mention his weight because he was trying really hard to be better about not getting him all embarrassed and stuff.
Instead, Arro looked really guilty for a second. Rangavar frowned.
“Sure… maybe I’ll try it out,” he finally said. He handed the knife back to Rangavar. “I—I don’t think I’ve been working as hard on my diet as I probably should be.”
Rangavar shrugged. “Who cares about a few sandwiches?”
The other dragon just fidgeted behind him as he looked over Rangavar’s shoulder to supervise his sandwich skills. He was still feeling guilty and ashamed, but Rangavar was impressed by how well Arro was doing. “I think you’re doing great.”
A pause.
“I cheated the other day.”
Rangavar pricked his ears, but shrugged, realizing what he was talking about. “I ate half of the second pizza, remember? You didn’t have all of it.” Rangavar remembered every second of it; he’d felt sick afterwards. He never wanted to look at pizza again.
Arro pushed his index fingers together. “I… I may have eaten, uh, more than that. While you were at work. While you weren’t here,” he admitted.
“You ate more pizza without me?” Maybe that’s how Arro knew that someone would be willing to bring it all the way to the house.
“Well… Yeah. I did. And maybe some other stuff.” The fat Faerian looked away in shame.
“Pizza is pretty good,” Rangavar admitted. Okay, maybe he’d have pizza again sometime. Just definitely not half the circle.
Arro was silently watching him stab the peanut butter. “That’s not really the takeaway from this conversation I expected. But I’m glad you like pizza.”
Rangavar gave up on the peanut butter. “Do you think maybe I should try putting jelly on the bread now?”
“Are you going to just stab it and get mad when it doesn’t work?”
The Darkal glowered down at the jar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is easy.”
“Why don’t you just let me do it?”
He reluctantly handed Arro the knife.
“Look at the bright side. If you ever need to stab something, you’re really good at that.”
Rangavar made a face at him.
The Faerian expertly spread peanut butter on the bread. It was totally the same way Rangavar had been doing it, although it worked better when Arro did it for some reason. Not because he was doing anything differently, of course. Rangavar had been using the peanut butter exactly like that.
“You can go ahead and eat some of the sandwiches. I’ll finish up making the rest. We can store leftovers after eating, instead of having to make more sandwiches next time we want them.”
The smaller dragon eyed the sticky chunks of bread. “Maybe later.”
“What, are they more flavorful than the air you’re used to eating?”
Rangavar wrinkled his nose. “Food has changed a lot over the past few centuries. For thousands of years, it was exactly the same. It was a huge deal when bread was invented. Now, everyone’s adding fat to it and smearing sugar on top.”
“No wonder you’re obsessed with fruit.”
“Fruit’s never done any wrong.”
“Fruit’s full of sugar too, you know.”
“So?”
“So it’s like the same thing.”
“If it’s the same thing, why don’t you like fruit?” Rangavar pointed out.
Arro scowled down at his latest sandwich creation.
“That’s what I thought.” Rangavar: 1. Arro: 0.
Rangavar resumed passing him stuff as the larger dragon finished up the last of the bread. Arro fanned his wings a bit and wiped sweat off his forehead while holding the knife.
Rangavar snorted. “You just got peanut butter on your face.” He licked his thumb, stood on his toes, and swiped it off.
Arro froze with a look of shock.
Rangavar took in his shocked expression with a furrowed brow. “What—You did that to me the other night. I thought that was just how—I thought that must just something people did.”
Arro was blushing furiously as he put down the knife on the counter.
Rangavar put up his paws. “Sorry,” he stammered. He couldn’t sense anger, exactly, but he was hoping Arro wasn’t upset.
“I’m going to go wash it off,” said Arro, sounding a bit breathless.
Rangavar flattened his ears guiltily. He just kept finding ways to make Arro hate him.
~~~~~Arro worked hard not to slam the door behind him in the shower room and tried to slow his breathing. Rangavar had just touched his face.
Rangavar touched his face.
Rangavar touched his face.
Rangavar touched his face.
Arro rubbed the side of his forehead. He was right, there was oil from the peanut butter there. He frantically went to the sink. Arro stared in the mirror, starting to notice every leftover crumb, every smear of peanut butter, every glob of sticky jelly on his scales; it was a testament to his disgusting eating behavior. It was ridiculous to get excited about Rangavar wiping food off his fat face. How could he be excited about that? Despite calling him attractive earlier, he had to find that pretty gross.
He suddenly thought back to that. Referring to him as attractive. He’d said it like it was obvious; that it was only a fact. Arro was sure it didn’t mean anything. Yet, he had felt like passing out at the time. Rangavar looked at him and saw someone ‘attractive’? His heart had almost stopped.
He leaned his paws on the edges of the sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He could see every flaw staring back at him.
He couldn’t believe Rangavar had touched his face.
He finally turned on the cold water, but instead of scrubbing that one spot of peanut butter, he furiously scrubbed his whole face. His cheeks felt hot. He wanted to shove his whole head under the faucet.
It had been soft, gentle, and seemingly completely oblivious. Arro wanted to bang his head on a wall. How could an actual Darkal not sense his feelings? Wasn’t that their whole thing? Maybe because it was mostly nerves. That must be the squeezing feeling in his chest. Nerves.
Didn’t Rangavar see he was tormenting the poor fat dragon?
Maybe that was Arro’s punishment, he mused, as he finished removing every hint of his disgusting eating habits from his face. There was no way Rangavar was that oblivious. No possible way.
Rangavar had touched his face.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Dragon (Other)
Size 120 x 117px
File Size 51.9 kB
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