The Softest Softie to Ever Soft

On screen, the egg began to crack, and Richard held his breath as the tiniest of dragon snouts broke free. A moment later, big eyes blinked at the brightness of the world.

He scoffed. Video games were such a ridiculous waste of time, but someone had to protect his dragon family's twenty-first hatchling. If he didn't gather another week's supply of wispfire ember, who would?

And while he was at it, he renewed their stock of enchanted frostberries and fortified the defenses around their nest again, just to be sure he hadn't missed something the last eleven times he'd done it. When that was finished, he checked on his other creatures, then exited the game for the night.

The moment he set his controller down, Hunter was in his lap.

"You utter and complete softie," he said as he leaned in, nuzzling against Richard. His fond amusement rippled through their bond.

Richard huffed. He wasn't a softie; he just didn't want to see helpless baby dragons get hurt. What with their itty-bitty wings and teeny-tiny scales and all. Large, fire-breathing parents aside, they were completely defenseless. It was simply a natural response and nothing more. He wasn't soft by any means.

"Yes, yes, I know," Hunter said, laughter in his voice. "Nothing about you is soft. You definitely don't excel at caretaking or anything like that. Only hard manliness here."

"I'll show you hard manliness," Richard grumbled.

Hunter grinned, pressing closer. "Exactly what I was hoping for."

Richard would never understand why Hunter always got so worked up watching him play this game, but it was the only thing video games had going for them. That and adorable baby dragon toes. But he wasn't admitting that last one to anybody… though he had a sneaking suspicion Hunter might already know.

He gathered Hunter in his arms and stood, carrying him to their bedroom. He had a point to prove and was very much looking forward to doing whatever it took to prove it.

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