Page 117 of Nine-Tenths

"You have been quiet, lately." Dav runs the backs of his fingers down my prickly cheek.

"Lots to think about," I repeat and sit up.

"There's no plans today."

"Kinda is, if you want this to be our ‘later’."

He sits on the coffee table so we can meet eye to eye.

"I'm not letting you off the hook," I say softly. "But if you're uncomfortable, maybe you could write it down?" Dr. Chen had suggested this method, to help me lay out my feelings to Stu in a way he couldn't interrupt or derail.

"No, no," Dav says. "I’ve stalled long enough. I want to tell you, but… I’m struggling to find the words. I wish I could…"

"What?"

"It's selfish." He nudges forward, down onto his knees, and mashing his face against my chest. Hiding. "I wish I could ask you to promise to not be afraid. But that's not fair."

"I'm not afraid of you. Your scales, the fire, none of it scares me."

"No, not…" he says softly. "It's…other things."

I pet his hair back from his temples. It’s still damp. He hasn't done his flippy-flappy morning hair-drying routine. It's ballet and porn, all at once. God, his hands. The way they carry, and lift, and touch. Styling hair. Petting goats. Sifting coffee beans. Pulling espresso. Even when he's accidentally lightly stabbing me, I love them. I lift one of his hands to my mouth.

"Colin." He breathes my name softly, like a benediction.

"I fucking love your hands," I tell him, because he deserves to hear it.

"You may not want me to touch you again, after I explain."

Moments like this one, where we were both still sleep-muzzy and warm, it feels like I might overflow, like there's no way I'll ever find room for all of this… all ofthis. But maybe I'll expand, somehow, to hold it all under my skin, close to my heart. I'm Dav’s ground, and his gravity, and his center. And he's my air, and my laughter, and my heat.

"So explain, and maybe let me decide for myself?"

But he's not meeting my eyes. I know how sometimes it's easier to say big things when you don't have to watch people'sfaces as you do, so I don’t mind. He shudders, inhales, takes the offering for what it is. "I don't want to lose… Our lives are so… our home is…"

"'Our' home," I repeat, and I meant for it to sound sarcastic, but instead, wrung out on overthinking and sleeplessness, surrounded by the smoky-amber scent of happy dragon, it comes out more awestruck and quiet.

"Of course, 'our', Colin. Everything mine is yours now, too."

I nip his ear. "So, thisisa marriage."

"You are determined to apply human terms to everything that we are, Mine Own," he says, but it's not unkind.

"Just trying to understand."

"Has Onatah been a good instructor?"

"What?"

"She is my best friend," Dav says, looking up at me. After a beat, he adds: "After you. She was worried you were tying yourself into knots. Of course she texted me."

"Gossipy lizards. Does she have a Favorite?"

"Yes."

"I asked if I could meet them and she said no." I offer up the most theatrical pout I can manage.

"One day," Dav promises. "Perhaps we can… host an event. To celebrate your taking my token."

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