Author's Note: 'Sup, all? It's been a while. Things have been getting hectic irl-wise between certain world events and my day job, so I was unable to write for a while.

"In the past, the prevailing view on dragons noted their solitary habits... This is simply not true. These reports were based on lone sightings and observations of singular dragons without context or explanation for behaviors." ~ Dragon Historia, pg 7

Chapter Nineteen: A House That Might be a Home

Gajeel woke slowly to a warm bed and the blissful feeling of heavy limbs, his right arm felt the heaviest of all. A cool spot on his bare hip came to his attention before he stirred further, slowly realizing that someone was resting on his arm. The light chill came from sizable holes melted through his normal nest of blankets.

The combined, thick scent of musk and sex in the air; red leather pants and the remains of clothing on the floor; the ruined bedding; the sticky feeling of sweat and other dried fluids that stuck to Gajeel's skin - it was all the remaining evidence of their official first night living together. Well… all of that and the ass-naked Elf making his arm feel vaguely numb.

Cobra was still asleep, turned on his side away from Gajeel, half tangled in mismatched, ruined blankets. It was almost noon and the angle of the light coming through the window made their bedroom dim, but dragons could see decently in the dark, and Gajeel could make out the purpling marks his mouth and fangs had made on warm, chestnut skin.

Mine.

Likewise, the iron dragon could feel the wonderful stinging from claw marks on his shoulders and back, his knees scratched and red. His neck tingled sorely with a clumsy mark from the poison dragon.

His.

Lost in the haze of it all, he practically purred with appreciation for their combined work.

And it was a sudden, sharp thought that cut through the pleasant afterglow: the realization that not every mark on his lover was from him.

Gajeel had his own sets of scars - a few along his arms from himself being young and stupid, and many from others being just plain stupid - but the scars on Cobra were different. They were almost exclusively contained to his back and shoulders.

There was the big, sprawling one on his right shoulder, still a tender muted red. Cobra had been injured when Gajeel had first met him, and looking at the remnant of the injury it was clear that he had been shot with some sort of darker magic - though it was on the wrong side, the center of the wound was at level with his heart. Meant to be a kill shot. Thankfully, whoever had managed to actually hit Cobra seemed to have forgotten how to tell left from right. That the man in his arms had survived without losing the limb was definitely a testament to how tough the guy was, Gajeel noted with a bitter pride.

The rest of the scars were fainter, all in a smattering of lines that littered the rest of his back. Gajeel could have sworn they looked like lash marks - how the hell had Gajeel missed seeing them before?

Then again… Violet and maroon, yellow-freckled back scales in the dark had likely hidden the array of scars on his mate's back. Not that Gajeel had seen Cobra shirtless enough times to say for sure that it was scales and darkness that hid the scars… That, and his attention hadn't exactly been on the upper half of his mate's backside any of the times he'd seen him naked.

Cobra's ear perked and the slight movement caught the iron dragon's attention.

Gajeel blinked. "How long have you been awake?"

"Woke up to you thinking about my ass," Cobra yawned, half-rolling over to toss him a sleepy glare through messy, crimson bangs.

Red eyes flicked to the point of his mate's ear, he lifted a finger and playfully prodded at the tip, which reflexively twitched away from his touch. "So. You didn't sleep all last night, then?" Gajeel pressed his fangs into his tongue, grinning.

"Fuck off this early," the redhead hissed, feigning a tired misery that only further spread the sloppy grin across the raven-haired man's face.

Cobra rolled back over, stealing most of the remnant blankets in the process, but Gajeel swore he saw a smile and so the loss of blankets was deemed worth it. He never wanted to let go of the warm glow, the little flicker of light that he felt inside right then.

After all, when was the last time he had made anyone happy? So many people looked at Gajeel and saw a shitshow-

"You're not a 'shitshow'," Cobra's abrupt words pulled his attention out of his own head. "An idiot, maybe..."

"Tch," Gajeel exhaled sharply out of his nose, "Only 'maybe'?"

The smaller man slowly - gingerly - sat up, returning blood flow to Gajeel's tingling arm, and stretched his own arms above his head. The motion was stiff and he was obviously sore in his lower half.

"You completely forgot that I can hear thoughts not even five seconds a-" Cobra froze, his words again stuck in his mouth, as if he had only just then realized how bare he was.

Posture now rigid, he pulled the remains of what had been a red blanket hard over his shoulders, trying to hide his form below the neck.

Immediately noting the other's change in demeanor, Gajeel sat up at attention. Something hard strangled the magic between them, like there were two ends of a string and Cobra was pulling it impossibly, painfully taut.

"H-hey, it's… it's okay." Gajeel tried to swallow the hard, tacky lump that he suddenly felt in his throat.

"I know," he snipped, then flinched at his own tone - obviously not meaning to be that harsh from the way his ears pinned back pathetically. But he was doubled over, pulling the melted blanket as close as he could - like loosening the fabric and exposing himself again would kill him. His chest rose and fell as he controlled his breathing, as if trying not to make a sound.

Something about the morning after situation was distressing to the other - Gajeel didn't want to think about what specifically. He wanted to punch, tear someone apart for ever making Cobra feel like this.

No. Gajeel wasn't going to let it be like last time, with Cobra left alone to deal with his panic.

He dug his nails into his palms, trying to keep his claws from coming out. Cobra needed him. "... What would help?"

Cobra stared unfocused at the floor for what felt like forever. Eventually his head turned ever-so-slightly towards Gajeel, his eyes, dark and wild, flicking to look at him before clarity returned to his gaze - eyes darting away again. Almost hesitantly, he said: "Getting clean."

Sloshing water echoed in the stone-tiled bathroom.

Cobra sank down into hot water until only his eyes remained above. He pressed his head back against the solid wall of the copper bathtub. He closed his eyes and let the relaxing heat of the water sink into his body, into his bones.

He hadn't meant to freeze like that. He was so damn sure last night that he wouldn't, not if he took charge...

But he still did.

Granted, after waking up he managed to go a whole ten minutes before freaking out this time. That was better than the last time, wasn't it? He was more in control, too - he'd caught himself before he lashed out this time.

And Gajeel had helped him. Even if it was just trying to keep him talking while running a bath. It wasn't bad, he eventually concluded. It was better than being left where he was and listening to the whispers and echoes that said why can't you stop acting like this.

Once again, he felt as if something heavy inside him crumbled away - it left a strange, fuzzy solace in its place. He was alive. He was okay. He was really, actually safe. He… wasn't alone.

Though Living Link Magic was nothing new to Cobra, the dragon-magic that formed their new bond was familiar yet still very foreign to him.

It's two-way, he reminded himself.

He felt for the pull he felt inside. The strain on his end of their bond lessened. If he felt for the magic hard enough, he could feel Gajeel's end give a tentative tug, an unsure and wordless question that he heard echoed in the iron dragon's inner voice. At best, it still being unfamiliar, Cobra could tug back; this seemed to be enough of an answer that their bond settled from both their ends, though the buzzing whispers of restless thoughts still came from the man downstairs.

Cobra picked his head up out of the water, followed by the rest of him, and swiped a worn cotton towel from where it rested on the sink

The towel he dried himself with was clean and the bathroom itself wasn't grungy, but there was a pile of post-workout laundry that had been sitting on the floor in the corner for way too long. Probably from before the whole Edolas ordeal.

Rank gym laundry was definitely not a pleasant smell while he was cleaning himself out. With so much time passed since they had fucked, the task wasn't as easy as Cobra would have liked. Outside of the smell, he'd distanced himself from the task of cleaning as best he could before getting in the bath. Of course, if they'd used a condom, it wouldn't have been something that needed to be done at all.

But… Gajeel wasn't very experienced - hell, he hadn't known about lube. What were the chances that he knew how to use a condom?

Very low, Cobra thought with a sigh as he finished drying off.

Of course, now that Cobra thought about it, getting to the point that they actually used a condom may have been another task entirely.

A condom might not survive their bedding. Their dragon magic urged them, started their… sessions… both times.

Could they do it without the scales and claws, without destroying clothing and furniture?

Without the nudge of their magic, could Cobra?

He wanted to try, sure. He knew that now. More than he did before. He didn't want to let himself get in the way - or let the feelings of old chains and past pressures dictate his relationship now.

Now Cobra had someone he actually wanted to let touch him for more than five minutes... Scratches from iron claws gripping his hips, a sore ass, and hungry bite marks on his neck and shoulders were plenty proof of that.

If the magic helped, then, Cobra reasoned, it was probably best to let it help. At least for the time being. Maybe with time he would be better prepared. No. Maybe with time, they would be better prepared.

"Shower's free."

A fork clattered to the floor as Gajeel almost jumped through the roof - just narrowly avoiding knocking a hot pan full of bread and eggs off the stove in the process. He turned to see Cobra in the doorway of the kitchen, clearly amused at the near heart attack he'd almost given Gajeel.

Gajeel flexed his fingers, settling for wiping his hands off on the gray sweatpants he'd thrown on to cook breakfast in. He scratched under the low ponytail he'd tied his long hair back in and leveled a sore glower at the silent-stepping bastard sitting down at the table. "The fuck're you sneakin' around like that for?"

Cobra smirked, cocky yet subtle, and Gajeel relaxed seeing the usual expression on his mate's face once again - anything was better than the blank-faced panic from earlier that morning. "I wasn't sneaking."

"You practically teleported into the kitchen!" Gajeel waved a hand to the archway.

"You're used to living alone."

"I was busy making us something to eat," Gajeel huffed, turning back to the stove, doing his best to ignore the living alone comment. "'Scuse me for bein' a gentleman and makin' breakfast."

In Gajeel's experience food always fixed things. After an active night and an alarming morning, Gajeel was hungry - there was no way that Cobra wouldn't also be, he reasoned.

The guy's stick-thin, was Gajeel's other reasoning. He didn't eat the entire time we were in the cabin or on the way back… There was a growing part of the iron dragon that was concerned; a part that wouldn't settle until he had seen his mate eat something. Food would fix that, too, with more time.

"I've gone longer," Cobra mumbled dismissively, as if not eating for a few days was a normal thing for him.

Gajeel flipped the eggy bread over in the pan, the sizzle of the food filling the quiet that had settled into the room. "Do ya want the eggs-in-a-basket or not?"

There was a small pause before Cobra agreed to the food. "Hot sauce?"

"Fridge door, bottom shelf," he told him, giving a stiff sniff and rough scratch behind his ear.

Gajeel's attention remained on the food, though from the soft clinking he could hear behind him, Cobra had found the hot sauce and placed it on the table. "Look," Cobra started, "About this morning…"

"Y'got treated bad, I get it."

And it was true, Gajeel did get it to a point. It wasn't Cobra's fault, or his own fault. But it still wasn't something that could be immediately fixed with punching, or sharp claws tearing flesh, or rending muscle from bone; it wasn't something he could keep his mate safe from. It was basically a ghost, Gajeel knew that. It didn't mean that it didn't leave him restless.

"I'm trying to say that having you there this morning was-" for a moment, it sounded like Cobra's words were stuck again, before he let out a buried sigh "- was good. It helped." And suddenly Cobra was right next to him, leaning into his view. The weight of his presence quietly urged Gajeel to look him in the eye; and Gajeel did, he let himself be taken in by the striking amethyst that saw inside him, searching in Cobra's knowing way. "It helped a lot more than you're thinking right now."

A nod was all Gajeel could muster in response. I actually helped…?

Cobra then looked down to the sizzling iron pan on the stove. "... That sounds burnt."

"Shit!"

In the days that followed, Gajeel learned two things.

One, that Cobra preferred chili oil to hot sauce on just about everything - whether chili oil belonged on the foodstuff originally or not.

"Noodles and rice I can get behind, but why would you put chili oil on eggs?"

"It tastes good," Cobra cocked a brow. "Tastes good on pizza, too."

"Pizza is for chili flakes."

"And chili oil."

"That just makes it greasy bread! Next you'll tell me that you like pineapple on yer pizza."

"It's not bad..."

Gajeel wrinkled his studded nose and stuck out his tongue in disgust. "Yer element's definitely poison."

"Ten minutes ago you said that you like to put chocolate bars in peanut butter sandwiches."

"Yeah, 'cause it's fuckin' good! Even better with chocolate milk."

Cobra's ears slid back in mild disbelief. "That's asking for diabetes, Gajeel."

Second, and most importantly, Cobra's cheeks puffed when he thought something was really funny. Something like continually scaring the shit out of Gajeel in his own home.

As they got used to sharing a living space it became a sort of game between the two of them if one had left a room without the other. There were times where Gajeel could smell Cobra around a corner, only to jump out at thin air and for Cobra to spook him from behind.

At this game of surprise, Cobra was like some sort of ninja that Gajeel couldn't catch. A ninja that slept next to Gajeel each night and got drool on the pillows. A ninja with a nice ass and puffy cheeks when he smiled too hard.

"You plant your feet before you lunge," Cobra told him, cocksure, the glee at scaring Gajeel not yet gone from his violet eyes. "It slows you down."

Gajeel clicked his fangs, playfully nipping at him in answer.

Normally, Gajeel hated losing. But, for some reason, he found that against this one opponent he didn't mind coming up short.

A/N: I had to squeeze one more chapter of them together before getting back to plot. Also, I am guilty of every food crime mentioned in this chapter - from the chili oil on eggs to the peanutbutter cup sandwich. Except for the pizza crime. I cannot have pizza. :(

Saw a twitter scanslation thread about Gajeel in one of the recent omakes (?), there was mention that he likes to make eggs-in-a-basket and french toast for breakfast, and he's also fond of things with chocolate in them. Hence the breakfast and the food crimes. :D