Drake knew he walked funny when leaving Tiago’s apartment. Tiago had been relentless, taking him all night near constantly, not stopping for him to breathe. He was sore.
He made it down the street and around a corner, stopping and leaning against the wall. He easily and quickly shifted to his dragon form, keeping low to the ground. He slithered further down the alley to the end, and then let out his wings, flying straight up into the air. The soreness went away as he took to the sky, his true form healing him as he flew. It wouldn’t take him long to get home, and there he could recharge.
What had he done? He took his life in his hands walking into that bar. “A lamb” they called him, and he knew that’s exactly what he was. He was a curious tourist who walked into a dark bar. He could have been raped. He could have been discovered. He was lucky.
He was never going back there again.
In fact, he thought, he was never going back to Windsor.
His heart beat like a rabbit’s as he cleared Canadian airspace and headed into Millennium City. Some place he knew better. He had left the window open on the second floor of his apartment and easily found his way inside.
There, he calmed. Among his possessions, among his collection, he sighed audibly and curled around boxes, laying his head on his arms and falling into a deep sleep.
Yet in his dreams, he saw Tiago, that look of carnality and pure lust and joy as Tiago took him over and over in his dreams, bringing him near constantly to fruition, to the point where there was nothing left.
He had a fitful sleep, getting up after only two hours. He found his way to the kitchen, and made himself some tea, gazing tiredly at the boxes. His phone went off – Henrik. Drake smiled to himself, and picked up the phone.
“Good morning!” he said happily.
“Yes, it is,” Drake said, still sounding tired.
“Are you all right?”
“I had a rough night. I went someplace I shouldn’t have gone.” Drake told Henrik of Meridien, of meeting Tiago, and “He took me home and we had sex. All night.”
Henrik was silent for a moment. Drake assumed that meant he was angry at him. Drake was angry at himself for getting into that position.
Then there was a knock on the door. “I have to go,” he said, shimmering and changing into his human form, wearing only a pair of shorts. He said goodbye before Henrik could say any more, and went to the door. The phone rang again. Drake ignored it.
He opened the door. The landlord, a small man, broad of shoulder and large of stomach, stood in his doorway. “Your window’s open. Is your A/C on?”
“No,” Drake said, not opening the door any more than a few inches. The man was always nosy, sticking his head in to try and see Drake’s apartment. Drake never let the man in on his own accord, and he knew that the man didn’t let himself in the apartment, either.
“I’m not paying for your A/C to be on when the window’s wide open. Your phone’s ringing.”
Drake waved his hand. “I’ll get it later.”
The man looked up at Drake. He had no reason to come into Drake’s place – he paid the rent on time, and there were no unwanted visitors from Drake’s apartment. He finally shrugged and turned away, heading back down the stairs. Drake shut the door, leaning against it. His whole body shook – he hadn’t slept, had barely recharged, and now Henrik was mad at him.
He changed again and went downstairs to the bed, ignoring the phone.