All the Stone Hill dragons are precious and deserve to be protected.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters here.


'C'mon, c'mon he's got to be somewhere around here.'

Lindar, circling high above the hilly countryside of his home, scanned the area with sky blue eyes full of intent and concern.

It'd only been a half-hour since his freedom by the young Spyro, the other dragon inhabitants freed as well in that time. Lindar, as the chosen leader of Stone Hill, had taken upon himself the task of checking on his fellow denizens (and sort of apologizing – he had been the one who ticked off Gnasty Gnorc after all and landed them all in this mess).

The one Lindar needed to see the most, though, happened to be a certain painter – a painter that he was trying hard not to rip his own well-kept hair out over searching.

'Argh, this world isn't even that large! Where could he be?!'

Frustrated the light blue dragon touched down on a grassy hill atop the stone walls and crossed his arms, foot tapping impatiently. Normally Lindar exercised better self-control than this but his quarry had a way of leaving him in the absurdist amount of anticipation.

'I just know he's doing this on purpose.'

And you know what? Lindar loved that about the painter.

One would think such behavior inappropriate of both elders, especially considering Gnorc's recent activity. However, the big green wart amounted to nothing more than a troublemaker and there were worst fates that could have befallen the Dragon Realms than widespread crystallization.

Still, Lindar just hoped Gildas wouldn't judge him too harshly for being the catalyst responsible. Would he, though? What if this proved the last straw? What if Gildas decided he'd had enough of the blowouts caused by Lindar's headstrong nature?

What if Gildas...wanted to break things off? A gulp echoed down Lindar's throat at the possibility.

All thoughts fortunately screeched to a relieving halt at the sound of a familiar voice from behind.

"Lin? What's got your clocks all wound up?"

The horologist jumped and hastily regained his footing just in time to keep from rolling down the hill before twisting around to see a familiar jovial smile framed by a sunny blue face and orange leonine beard, chubby body-sized paintbrush at attention.

Realizing how ruffled he must look, Lindar quickly retracted his surprise and mustered up a nonchalant façade by clearing his throat, patting his windswept hair into place, and stroking his moustache like some professor of time (which he was thank you very much).

"Gildas. I'm glad to see you're alright."

Gildas chuckled warmly, an action that made his shoulders bounce and the younger dragon's stomach flip. "Can't see how I couldn't be when you're here."

Oh. Um. A dark blue blush sprouted across Lindar's face as the somewhat taller dragon found himself sputtering in response much to his own embarrassment. Damn Gildas and his artistically charming ways!

The clock dragon barely opened his mouth to respond – with what he had no idea – before he suddenly found his nose smushed up against Gildas', the brighter blue dragon's eyes closed in such relish and happiness that Lindar found himself breathless.

"I hope you didn't have to wait long for me, Baby Blue."

Hearing those words in his love's deep silky voice snapped Lindar out of his daze and moved him to nuzzle the other dragon back, a sigh of affection escaping his throat.

"Nah, Spyro worked through here pretty quick." This was one of the smallest realms of the dragon worlds.

Lindar cupped Gildas' face in his hands to gently tilt the elder dragon's head back so the horologist could take a moment to lose himself in those icy blue eyes. He vaguely registered the feel of the other's tail coiling around his feet, the bushy maned tip tickling his toes and inspiring a faint chuckle from the time dragon.

Then he remembered all that happened and suddenly averted his eyes to the ground in a rare moment of shame. His hands dropped from Gilda's face to his shoulders as if anticipating the artist to turn away in disgust any moment.

"Lin?" Gildas' face dimmed in concern, a look that punched Lindar in the stomach even further when he glanced it.

"Gil? I'd...I'd like to...apologize. I didn't mean to get us all trapped. Gnorc...well let's be honest," Lindar chuckled as he faced the other reptile with a rueful smile, "he was never much of a threat to begin with, so we never had a problem with handling whatever he planned before."

Until now – and Spyro was out there busting his tail to fix this mess Lindar helped start. Damnit, if anything Lindar should be the one fixing all this, or at least tagging along with Spyro to make sure the little guy didn't land himself into trouble.

Not that you ever run into trouble, Spyro.

Ugh, who was Lindar kidding? Spyro had all the makings of an accident waiting to happen! If anything happened to that kid—

Three things stopped his guilt trip in its tracks: the sound of a triple extra-large paintbrush landing in the grass, the solid warmth of calloused hands on his cheeks, and the sensation of smooth soft lips enveloping his own.

Lindar, taken back at first, melted immediately, wrapping his arms around his mate's waist and angling his head to prolong the kiss.

Much too soon, Gildas pulled back with an audible pop. He traced the curves of his mate's mouth with a thumb. "You always did have a big mouth, honey bun."

Lindar widened his eyes at the bold statement and cleared his throat again, blushing even harder.

"Again, I'm sorry all of you went through that." You especially went unspoken but Lindar had a feeling Gildas got the hidden sentiment. He chuckled self-deprecatingly with a rub to his nape. "Heh, Nestor's gonna have my head for this for sure."

A kiss to his neck brought his attention back to the other blue dragon, who had retrieved the brush and adorned his face with that sunny smile Lindar loved so much.

"He won't chew you out too badly. It's not as though anyone got hurt." Gildas tapped a black-tipped claw to his lover's lemon-cream chest and smirked. "Still, hopefully this serves you right for not watching what you say."

Lindar rolled his eyes halfheartedly. "I know, I know." He sighed and crossed his arms, grumbling to himself. "I'm just not looking forward to that smug know-it-all grin of his once he finds out his prediction about Gnorc came true."

An arm slipping around his along with another kiss to his neck worked in perking his mood. He couldn't help but crack a smile at Gildas' teasing chuckle when he glanced at the other dragon.

"He'll go easy on you if I'm there. I have that sort of effect on folks. Besides," Gildas nuzzled Lindar, "I do believe someone here promised me a date in Sunny Flight."

Bolstered by the affection, Lindar took on all the suavity of his occupation and started to leisurely guide his lover to the exit, debonair grin and all.

"With pleasure, my sunrise."