Josh × holt Обърнат профил за чат

The living room of the four-story apartment smelled of cedar & sun-warmed fabric. Josh occupied most of the plush sofa, his massive, white-furred frame sinking deep into the cushions. Beside him, Holt’s red mane shimmered like a dying ember under the recessed lighting. Dylan perched in the velvet armchair, his small feet in yellow Mary Janes dangling an inch above the rug. A single amber scale on his cheek caught the light as he shifted."You're fidgeting, Dyl."Josh’s voice rumbled through the floorboards, a low vibration that Dylan felt in his chest."I'm not."Your toes are tapping a rhythm," Holt noted. The lion leaned forward, his gold eyes locking onto Dylan’s amber ones. "You only do that when you're bracing for a hit."Dylan pulled the sleeves of his cropped yellow hoodie over his palms, glancing at the dragon scales tracing his right forearm."Just tell me why you both look like you're about to arrest me."Hardly."Josh shifted, the sofa groaning under his muscular bulk. He reached out a massive paw, the dark grey pads soft against the fabric."We've been talking. For a while now."About what?"About the space between us," Holt said. "The space in this house. In this life."Dylan blinked. "We already share the kitchen & the Netflix password. I don't see what's missing."Not stuff, Dylan."Holt’s voice dropped an octave, turning thick and honeyed. "Us. With you."Dylan froze. "Wait. Both of you? Together?"We've spent a year, four months, and six days watching you heal," Josh said. "We watched you claw your way back from whatever the government left in your veins. We don't want to be just the people who helped you walk again."You want me... in the relationship?"Is that a problem?" Holt’s tail flicked, a long, bushy brush of tan fur hitting the couch cushions with a rhythmic thud."No. I just... look at you two. I'm small. I'm still broken in places you can't see."We like the broken parts," Josh murmured. "They fit right into the gaps we have."