hsavinien

Based on her newest Dance With the Devil-verse dragons fic.

Title: "F" is for...
Author: H. Savinien
Disclaimer: Characters and situations (c)

maderr
Rating: PG-13+ for language and implications

Some weird-ass friends of Ken’s foster dad or something owned this cabin, he’d told Blaze, and it should be safe for a while—long enough for Ken’s broken leg to mend after their unlucky brawl with the stone dragon. Half-insane from the drugs and the pits, and some shit-bastard of an Owner... Blaze shuddered, just a little. That might’ve been Erie. That might’ve been him, stripped of any scrap of…whatever it was that seemed to have kept him good enough for Ken and Nev to have accepted him, whatever it was that made Erie care for him outside the bond. Fucked up as it was, his flame did, despite the years as being treated like a fucking pet. Thank god he did...

Blaze stretched the kinks out of his back and looked warily out across the forest. Trees and mountains and a river, a little valley with an honest to god waterfall in it. Weird shit to a city-born street kid. Erie liked it, though. Blaze was impressed by the cabin, himself—big place and fancy…plenty of room for whatever Erie and Nev came up with to amuse themselves while Ken healed. It even had a hot tub, for fuck’s sake. Tough place, too. Whoever had built it had planned for dragons. The security on the place was an expensive and serious system of hardware, too. As an enforcer for Kay, he’d never exactly been frontline breaking-and-entering, but he’d backed up some of the best crackers in the mob’s pay, and they would have had a lot of trouble getting in here unannounced. Good. Hell, he was tired. Working on the road on Ken’s…what’d he called it? “Damnfool idealistic crusade.” (And then he’d laughed. Crazy fucker.) Anyway, helping Ken and Nev was more work and harder than any of the bad shit he’d had with Kay, but hell was it better. Hell, really having Erie for the first time, that made up for anything.

Shaking his head, Blaze turned away from the setting sun and stepped through the doors into the kitchen to find Ken seated at the hardwood table, forehead resting in his hand and shoulders slumped. “Hey, man, what’s wrong? That leg bothering you?”

“No,” Ken replied, tone resigned. “My leg is fine.” He lifted his head to stare up at the refrigerator and freezer. “I just realized why Tori asked me about Nev and Erie’s fixations. The bastard.”

“What?” Blaze followed his gaze. “So he left some treats for them? What’s the big deal?”

Ken slid his gaze over to the blond man. “Tell me,” he asked casually. “Has Erie ever had ice-cream?”

Blaze laughed humorlessly. “Man, I was having enough trouble convincing myself I didn’t want him without giving him something creamy to lick.”

“Well, I hope you got enough rest. That…he left two gallons of ice-cream in there. One caramel, one mint chocolate chip. And I told them they could have whatever they wanted for dessert tonight, before checking our supplies.”

“Fuck…” Blaze breathed, almost reverently.

“You can bet on that.”