Milo stood at the foot of his king-sized bed, staring at the form of Elias, now a dark, motionless lump under his duvet. Elias, the horned, tailed, wolf-eared being, was asleep in his bed. The absurdity of it warred with a strange, undeniable pull. He still had the pull-out sofa. It was comfortable, clean. He should sleep there.
But the thought of leaving Elias, injured and utterly alien, alone in his bed felt… wrong. Or maybe it was just a flimsy excuse for the real reason: a dangerous, stupid curiosity about having him so close. And a prickle of something warm and utterly confusing that had nothing to do with the apartment's heating.
"This is a monumentally bad idea, Milo," he muttered to himself, running a hand over his face. "You're going to regret this. Big time."
Yet, his feet moved before his brain could protest further. He walked to the other side of the bed, slowly, cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal. The soft glow from the living room lamp filtered into the bedroom, casting the room in a gentle, hazy light. He could just make out the rise and fall of Elias's chest, slow and steady. The obsidian horns were still visible, peeking out from the long, dark hair spread on his pillow.
Taking a deep breath, Milo carefully slid into bed on the opposite side. The mattress dipped slightly, a soft rustle of sheets. He kept a deliberate distance, clinging to the very edge of the bed like a desperate shipwreck survivor. The air instantly felt heavier, charged with the proximity of another body, especially one as powerfully foreign as Elias's.
He lay there, stiff and unmoving, staring at the ceiling. The rain outside had finally quieted to a gentle patter, making the silence inside the apartment even more profound. Milo could hear Elias's soft, deep breathing, a rhythmic sound that slowly, strangely, began to calm the frantic beating of his own heart. The faint, earthy scent of Elias, like damp stone and something wild, subtly filled the air around them. It was surprisingly… pleasant.
He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep. Just fall asleep, Milo. It's just a guy. A guy with horns and a tail and abs you shouldn't be thinking about.
Time seemed to stretch, measured only by the slowing of Milo's own breathing. He was drifting, finally.
And then, it happened.
With a soft murmur, barely a sound, Elias shifted. He turned over, slowly, fluidly, until he was facing Milo. And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, he instinctively curled further, until he was spooning Milo, his back pressed intimately against Milo's front.
Milo's eyes snapped open. He froze, every nerve ending screaming. Elias's body was a solid, warm presence against his back, radiating a comforting heat that seeped through his thin pajama shirt. His long, damp hair brushed against Milo's cheek, surprisingly soft. The subtle curve of one of his obsidian horns was just inches from Milo's ear. And then, as Elias settled deeper, his leg shifted. Slowly, unconsciously, it lifted and slid between Milo's legs, settling there with a soft, warm weight.
Milo gasped, a tiny, choked sound. His entire body went rigid, a sudden, explosive heat igniting every inch of his skin. He was pressed against Elias, tangled with him, in his own bed. The soft fur of Elias's wolf-ears brushed against Milo's jaw, a small, feather-light tickle that made his stomach flip. He could feel the solid, toned muscle of Elias's thigh pressed against his own, the subtle give of Elias's abs against his back.
He lay there, wide awake, heart pounding like a drum solo, utterly unable to move. He was caught. Caught in a tangle of limbs with a beautiful, dangerous, sleeping half-dragon. He could feel Elias's steady breath on the back of his neck, the comforting weight of his arm that had somehow draped itself loosely over Milo's waist. It felt impossibly warm. It felt impossibly... right.
Milo squeezed his eyes shut, his face burning a furious red in the darkness. This was a nightmare. A terrifying, incredibly hot, deeply confusing nightmare. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe properly. He was flustered beyond belief, his mind a chaotic mess of panic and a dangerous, unwelcome thrill. He spent the rest of the night rigid, acutely aware of every warm, solid inch of Elias pressed against him, battling the impossible urges that were beginning to stir in his own chest. Elias, utterly oblivious, continued to sleep, curled into the strange warmth Milo provided, a soft, almost contented sigh escaping his lips.