Zac's fantasy fizzled as he tried to figure out the logistics. Who would top? Damn, why are they both such hunks? Sorry Bune, but Marchosias has those 'I'm a dom top' eyes that could melt steel beams. A shame though... three claspers and all...
Zac finally got up. He couldn't just lay in the middle of the hallway and fantasize while nursing his wrecked gut; he needed to go and see if March and Bune were having messy make-up sex. That was critical reconnaissance.
He shuffled down the hallway toward the intersection where Bune had vanished, his leopard-print onesie muffling his steps on the stone. He peeked around the corner and saw Marchosias standing in an open doorway. The Captain looked... repentant. It was an odd look for the macho military wolf, almost vulnerable.
Zac sneaked closer, straining his ears.
"Absolutely not," the wolf demon said, his voice low and intense. "We know we will never be the same. We will always carry the weight of what has fallen upon us."
"Leave me," Bune's shaking voice came from inside the room. "How could I have thought you were any different than the others?"
"Because I am not a lunatic!" Marchosias pleaded, stepping halfway into the room. "You cannot give up. I will not allow it."
"Allow it?" Bune's voice rose in volume, trembling with rage. "Allow it?! And why should I care what a demon says? Demons break the rules!"
"No," March barked. "The rules are in place for a reason. You know this."
"What I know is demons have no self-control!" Bune's middle head roared, the sound echoing violently. "Why torture myself if it is meaningless?!"
"It's not meaningless!" March yelled into the room. "Just look at your progress! Don't give in to your base desires. There is more to existence than gold!"
A draconic roar, three distinct tones harmonizing into a chord of pure fury, erupted from the open doorway. "I AM NOT YOU! I AM NOT WORTHY!"
A cone of violet fire erupted from the room, engulfing Marchosias. Zac shielded his eyes and felt the heat wash over him from halfway down the hallway, singeing the fleece on his onesie.
Bune burst from the doorway, tackling the now-ablaze Captain. The dragon was fully transformed, three heads snarling, scales bristling. Two of the heads bit down hard onto the wolf's shoulders, teeth sinking deep into the uniform.
Zac quickly pressed himself into one of the closed doorways. Oh fuck, lovers' quarrel. I've heard domestic disputes are the most dangerous to walk in on. He watched voyeuristically as the demon daddies grappled. Don't eat him, Bune! No one should die a virgin! Especially not him!
Much to Zac's surprise, Marchosias was not moved by the dragon's body slam. He stood like a statue amidst the flames.
"YOU ARE A SEWER TAMPON!" Bune's Middle Head roared, recycling the Captain's earlier insult.
Zac's eyes went wide. A bright white light suddenly filled the hallway. Pure, blinding radiance that felt like staring into the heart of a star. Zac felt like he'd been flash-banged, spots dancing in his vision. But through the glare, he saw it.
A pair of pure, shining silver wings slowly grew from Marchosias's back near his shoulders. Not feathery, but made of light and sharp, geometric angles, floating behind him like glowing neon blubs.
Bune roared again, and the Middle Head blasted March point-blank in the face with another torrent of purple fire. "YOU LIAR! YOU MADE ME BELIEVE!"
Marchosias grabbed the necks of the heads biting his shoulder, ignoring the onslaught of fire washing over his face.
Zac started to step out from the doorway he was hiding in. No, Wolf Daddy! he mentally pleaded. Don't kill the Dragon Daddy!
However, what happened next stopped Zac in his tracks. Marchosias didn't strike. He didn't tear. Instead, he slowly engulfed himself and the raging dragon with the silver wings. It was like a big, luminous hug, the blinding light of the wings wrapping around them both, creating a cocoon of brilliance.
Zac had to brace himself against the wall. Was March hugging Bune? Holy shit, I knew it. My ship is the canon ship. I am the prophet of gay demon love.
The dragon's roars of anger and rage were quickly cut off. Bune's Middle Head began to growl, low and confused. "Stop that... enough... you... you... STOP IT!"
Marchosias stepped closer to the dragon within the circle of wings. Bune's Left and Right heads released the wolfman's shoulders and pulled back from the radiant light, squinting.
Bune looked flustered, his scales shifting color. "Stop that! You're... you're going to stain your clothes! The soot!"
Marchosias grabbed Bune's shoulders and pulled him closer, pressing his forehead against the central neck. "You are more important than some fucking clothes."
Bune's Middle Head shrank back into his body with a wet squelch.
"Stop it, you mutt!" the Right Head huffed, though its voice wavered. "Your fur..."
"You lie," the Left Head whispered. "You don't care."
Marchosias's wings flashed again, illuminating the hallway as if the sun had been focused into the keep with a million magnifying glasses. When he spoke, it was with the beautiful, commanding Command Voice. "IF I DIDN'T CARE, THEN WHY AM I HERE?"
Bune's faces twisted in emotion. Grief, longing, and shame warring for dominance. "Stop it!" he yelled. "Extinguish those wings right now! You'll burn yourself out!"
"NO," March barked, his voice filled with a deep, resonant pain that matched the light. "This is nothing. I know you're fighting much worse."
What was Zac hearing? Despite reading over five thousand erotic fanfictions online, he was confused. This wasn't as sexy as he thought it would be. It was… really... earnest.