by Noah Harris
Maybe that would be the best outcome after all, and Barry was worrying for nothing.
He and Xanathen let out simultaneous sighs as they lodged themselves into the cushions of the couch, expelling their concerns just for a brief moment. Their uncomfortable thoughts were interrupted as they noticed one another. They smiled warmly and moved closer, Xanathen wrapping his burly arm around Barry’s shoulder as he leaned into his side with an affectionate nuzzle. Their shared warmth melted all the problems that surrounded them, even if it was just for a little while. Despite not being able to remember the last time he didn’t feel so damn tired, Barry could at least look into Xanathen’s flickering golden eyes and feel it was all worth it. That impish smile of his that spread from cheek to cheek always assured Barry that he did good that day, and that he was in a safe place away from the craziness of the world. Xanathen’s eccentricities might have added some bonus stresses to the life Barry lived but that infectious laugh of his made those stresses fly right out the window. The small moments of silence were priceless to him.
“So…maybe we can try that shower sex again?” Xanathen purred in Barry’s ear.
“Is that all you think about?” Barry rolled his eyes with a knowing sigh. “Not now.”
Xanathen put his other hand to his cheek, accepting, with as much dignity as he could, that he wouldn’t be winning this.
The TV flickered on and filled the air with sounds of whatever program happened to be on. They didn’t watch anything in particular but opted instead to hop from channel to channel, occasionally paying attention and making comments. Most of all it was just left as background noise as the two held each other close.
“Oh! That’s a baseball game!” Xanathen exclaimed proudly, like he had been clued in on some insanely obscure reference.
“That’s not a baseball game, that’s a commercial.”
“It’s a baseball game. I know baseball. There’s the diamond and they’re hitting balls with a stick!”
“It’s not a baseball game. They’re tossing a hot dog. It’s a commercial.”
“Oh.” Xanathen said. “Barry? When will we play baseball again? I thought it was a lot of fun.”
Barry reflected on that, letting his mind take a trip back to the island where they first met. He remembered that game on the hot, pearly beach and how the sweat trickled down Xanathen’s sculpted abs, as the clear ocean water splashed on the shore. He remembered being on that tropical beach without a care in the world and teaching Xanathen how to play an impromptu version of his favorite sport. He thought back on that muscular frame while it twisted and bulged as Xanathen swung at the coconuts and they burst on impact.
The memory crashed with a sickening thud as he thought about just how hard Xanathen could, and would, hit. Instead of being on the hypnotic seashore, Xanathen was out in the park, surrounded by tons of passers-by, the crowd getting bigger with each ball that exploded like confetti on impact. So many people were whispering among themselves at the oddity of it, staring in awe at the physical bouts of strength on display. How could any normal human destroy so many of those? they’d murmur as another ball fell in a limp pile of string and bits. He must be something else.
That was when his tail would sprout, swinging triumphantly with each crack of the bat, keeping time with the horrified gasps of the crowd like the rhythm of metronome.
“Soon,” Barry said, giving the vaguest answer he could.
“How soon?”
“Just soon, I’dunno. I gotta find a day where I’m off, when there’s good weather, and a big empty field…”
“Tell me where the park is and I can do it myself,” Xanathen said plainly.
“No, it’s a long drive. Really, we’ll go together, I promise—”
“No need to drive. I can fly, remember?” He tapped Barry’s nose with a smirk.
“No!” Barry shouted, turning immediately to Xanathen. “I mean, uh, it’s fine. Really. We’ll go next time I’m off work.”
Xanathen sat coldly on his side of the couch as he let Barry’s reaction set in. An unamused expression hardened on his angular face, darkening his features.
“I’m tired of being cooped up here,” Xanathen growled. “If I want to fly somewhere, I will.”
“Babe, no, please!”
“Why shouldn’t I? I’m a dragon! A mighty creation of the powers that be! The wielder of untold strength, the weaver of divine magic—”
“—The master of untold fates and power,” the two concluded in unison. Barry gave a heavy sigh, having heard that phrase so many times. Xanathen glowered in frustration.
“I know, babe, I know. It’s not fun,” Barry continued with exasperation. So much for just relaxing this evening. “But please. I’m not doing this to be a killjoy. The world isn’t ready for…well…”
“They’re not ready for dragons. Is that it?”
“Well…yeah. Remember how I first reacted when I saw you?”
“Yes. You were red in the face and panting, slightly aroused—,” Xanathen’s cold expression warmed a little as he chuckled at his own remark.
“No!” Barry groaned, trying to hold himself back from laughing. “I meant you as you. As a dragon. No one believes in dragons anymore. If they see a dragon flying over the city, they’re gonna call an air raid and shoot you down first, or who knows what else? Either way, it won’t be good.”
Xanathen firmly held his ground, fingers digging into the cloth of the couch and a scowl enveloping his face. He let out a shaky, draconic growl as his eyes flashed with white-hot intensity. The area around him even seemed to fade into wispy shades of violet.
He took a deep breath, and the aura around him soon fell away. Barry wrapped his arm around Xanathen and held him close, running his fingers through his hair comfortingly. Xanathen’s breath grew longer as it travelled through his flared nostrils.
Barry internally winced at the sight of Xanathen so defeated. If he could, he would let him spread his wings and fly over the world and strut down Main Street as a full-bodied dragon.
Sometimes though, Barry thought sadly as he held Xanathen close to him, doing what you want isn’t the best idea.
“I’m not saying never,” Barry soothed as he brushed through his hair. “Just not now. You’re still so new to this world. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me!” Xanathen rejected Barry’s statement. “I’m stronger than any man here, and—”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Barry repeated with more emphasis. “It’s a big world out there, and I don’t even wanna think what’ll happen if you blow your cover.”
“—I thought you said America was a place where you could be whatever you wanted.”
Ah. Using his own words against him. Nothing was quite the kick in the teeth like the boot you made yourself. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as Xanathen glared at him, awaiting confirmation.
“It is. Just…” Barry trailed off, unable to think of what else he could possibly add.
“It either is or it isn’t.”
“Trust me when I say it’s both. It’s got so many different people, and we’re all still growing. But we haven’t gotten as far as we’d like.
“I love you—” Barry’s words were both reassuring and soft as he leaned in closer, pressing his face to Xanathen’s. “You know that, right? I’m absolutely crazy about you. You’re the best thing in my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Xanathen sat quietly in Barry’s embrace, bitterly sulking while surrounded by the warm glow of his boyfriend’s affection. His eyes rolled as he thawed out. “Please, go on. I like this part.”
Barry let out a laugh as he focused on squeezing his hands and looking Xanathen in the eyes. “I really do love you. This hurts me to do, but trust me. I just want you to be ready for the world out there.”
“I love you, too,” Xanathen gave in, pressing a soft kiss to Barry’s lips. “Sorry for snapping. I’m just g
oing crazy being here all by myself! There’s only so many times I can wash the dishes before it loses its luster.”
“Soon, soon,” Barry reassured. “Just, not everything is solved by throwing yourself into it. Sometimes you gotta take it slow and be patient.”
“Right. Right,” he sighed as he squeezed Barry closer, planting another kiss on him with more affection than the last time.
The tension in the air dissipated as they held each other close. It seemed like everything was under control for now. It was just the two of them in their small little lovenest, taking all the problems they had day by day.
The tall man stood up and scratched his back as he pulled away from the couch, giving a lazy ‘I’ll be back. Getting some pants,’ before striding into the bedroom. Barry sunk into the couch. He felt a feeling of pride that he’d managed to clear the situation up. With a little bit of communication, there was nothing the two of them couldn’t get through. He stretched his arms and put his hands on the cushions, feeling the cushy texture beneath him.
Odd. Wasn’t his phone next to him? There was no phone there. Not in the cushions or on the floor. It was gone.
As he began to panic, he thought it sure as hell didn’t take this long to put on a pair of pants. His eyes slowly widened as he began to put the pieces together. Begging to be wrong, he stumbled to the bedroom and opened the door.
Xanathen’s muscular physique sat on the bed. He had the phone up to his ear and was in mid-conversation. Barry’s heart plummeted to his gut as Xanathen looked over pleasantly and held out the phone to him:
“Here you go. It’s your mom.”
Chapter Two
Barry’s arm cracked like a whip as he snatched the phone out of Xanathen’s hands. The glossy screen gleamed up at him. The word “Mom” in bold letters stood out, seemingly more than usual. He choked on his breath in trepidation as he forced the lump down his throat and cautiously lifted the screen up to his ear.
“…H—Hello?” he squawked, his voice nearly shattering.
“Barry? Barry is that you?” He’d recognize her voice anywhere. Her voice always reminded him of the heavy snowfall back in Minnesota. It was soft and clean with a whimsical sense of nostalgia packed into it, while her habit of enunciating more than necessary made him think of the snow falling from the roof in clumps. He felt himself brimming with tears as he heard her voice.
He sat in silence as he waited for something, anything, to be said. Xanathen scowled and gave his shoulders a nudge, encouraging him to just talk already.
“Yeah. Hi, Mom,” he replied weakly.
“Barry! Oh my god, Barry!” Barry pulled the phone away from his ear as her squealing made the volume spike painfully. “I’ve been calling you for months now. Didja get any of my messages? You never called back and I thought maybe something else happened, and—”
The rest of her words became indecipherable between the sobs and the shaky voice. A huge part of him wanted to wince and crawl away in embarrassment, having his mother cry over ‘nothing’ like he was a damn child. On the other side of that coin, he was officially declared dead for over half a year. A pungent combination of humiliation and guilt froze him solid as his mom continued crying and talking.
“Yeah, Mom. I got your messages. I’m okay.”
“I was so worried, I—why didn’t you call back? The least you could do is give me a call! I thought you had died again, and you couldn’t even give me a call to let me know you’re okay?!”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I was…busy.”
“Busy? What’s gotten you so busy you can’t even make a quick call?”
“Oh, you know…work. Getting adjusted to Florida again. Working on…helicopters,” Barry racked his brain for a good excuse. The more he answered, the dumber each excuse sounded to him. “Just busy.”
“You’ve been busy before and you at least still called every once in awhile,” she said with the cutting passive aggressiveness he had come to expect. The salt in the wound was knowing that she was right. She gave a lilting sigh. “—I’m happy to hear your voice again.”
“Trust me, Mom. I’m happy to hear yours, too.”
There was a lot of truth to that statement. While he would never be able to forget the liberating state of the tropical isle he crashed on, he remembered worrying about how much his own family must have been grieving over him, and how many times he thought of his parents mourning him when he wasn’t even dead.
“Is everything okay down there? Are you adjusting well? Are you eating well? You haven’t gotten sick, have you? Have—”
“Yes, yes, Mom, I’m okay. Everything’s okay. I’ve lost a lot of weight but I’m trying to focus on getting back to normal. Little bit of training again. Eating well, but nothing’s ever as good as your cooking,” Barry answered sincerely.
Xanathen listened intently and refused to budge from the bed, determined to make sure Barry talked to his mother. It was hard for Barry to really get into the groove of the conversation with his draconic significant other staring him down, while clinging onto a pillow.
He beamed at the last thing Barry had said with what, to him, seemed like the perfect solution to it all. He plopped his head on Barry’s shoulder, just enough to be near the phone, and said, “Barry’s mother! You should make him dinner!”
Barry’s face puckered sourly as he jolted to his feet away from Xanathen, all while cradling the phone. He looked back at Xanathen who was sitting on the edge of the bed contently, his eyes clearly reading ‘You’re welcome.’ Barry shook his head as he pulled his focus back to the conversation at hand.
“Who is that?” his mother asked with an amused chuckle.
“Oh, that uh…That was my, uh…” Barry choked a little on the words.
He stood away from the bed, looking back at Xanathen with his imposing figure triumphantly sitting on the bed as if he’d conquered it. Even though the LED lighting didn’t compare to the bright sunlight, his dark skin had a sleek gleam to it. His hair, like a fin sprouting from the top of his head and running down the back of his neck, always caught Barry’s attention. Of course there was that crooked smile of his, filled with dazzling white teeth. Though it was sharp, there was a sense of warmth to his smile that made Barry swoon just a little bit.
Xanathen caught his eye, gesturing him to tell her. What would he have to lose?
“That’s Xanathen. My…roommate—.”
Xanathen’s smile crashed. He folded his arms, staring Barry down with a confused, hurt look. He bit his tongue, though, letting Barry have ample time to correct himself.
“Nathan?” his mother echoed confusedly. Close enough. She laughed again. “He sounds like quite the character. I didn’t know who I was talking to when I answered!”
“What did he say?” Barry asked dryly, shooting a dirty look behind him to the culprit on the bed.
“Oh, nothing much. He said that you weren’t calling and he was going to make sure you talked to me. He seemed awfully excited that he was on a phone though. He kept asking if it was working and if he was talking to me. Where on earth did you find this one?”
“I…well, I met him on that island I crashed on—” he started.
Xanathen softened a little.
“He helped me get back home—” he continued.
The dragon’s fin twitched with glee as Barry continued truthfully reciting their tale. His smile returned as he silently urged the blond to continue with a nod of his head.
“—And, he, uh…” Barry trailed off, making Xanathen crane his neck in anticipation. “Well, he’s a cool guy and I offered to be roommates.”
Xanathen frowned again with a low rumbling growl that set the bed shaking like something that could be found at a sleazy motel with “magic fingers."
“What’s that? Sounds like something’s shaking over there,” his mother asked with concern.
“Ah, nothing, just oh! New neighbors,” Barry said through gritted teeth. He gestured for Xanathen to cut it out. “Yeah, ne
w neighbors, and they’re dragging the couch across the floor, ha ha. Need any help over there? No? Lift with your legs, not your back! Ah, they seem nice.”
“How wonderful. Things really sound busy over there. But, you know, hold on. Your friend had a good idea. Wait right there. I’m gonna go talk to Dad. Gerald? Gerald!—” Her end of the phone went quiet, he could only make out slight bits of a conversation held off in the distance somewhere. He could faintly hear the muted news in the background with the sounds of his parents talking over it. He couldn’t make out the words though. “Hello? Barry? You there? So, I convinced your dad to take some time off work. We’ll come see you. Won’t that be great?”
Those very words had the power to shatter his world into a million tiny shards. Barry stopped pacing immediately and began to panic. No matter what excuse or reason he gave, he knew his mother had something else up her sleeve. It was like fighting a giant wave: there was no stopping it, or even pushing it back. All you could do was prepare for impact.
His mother prattled on about the travel plans to come and see him. He sat on the bed slouched over, like he was hoping that if he curled into himself enough he would cease to be. He sat there for the rest of the phone call, letting his mother chatter on about her neighbors, her work, and what else was new around town, while the color faded from his face.
The conversation finally came to an end, both of them seeing who would say ‘goodbye’ last. The phone bounced on the bed. Barry had the dazed expression of a boxer mid-fight.
“Roommate?” Xanathen finally sneered with a cutting edge. “I know I’m more than that. What was that?”
“What? Excuse me, but you’re the one calling my mother and inviting her over for goddamn dinner!” Barry retorted angrily, his face turning red. “Why don’t you tell me what the hell was that?!”
“I just wanted to help—.” Xanathen closed his eyes firmly and turned his head away. “You needed to talk to your mother, so I called her to make sure you did!”
