Milo lay there, panting, utterly wrecked. His body still trembled from the violent climax, the sticky warmth of his own release clinging to his pajamas. He was a hot, shivering mess, his mind a chaotic whirl of shock, humiliation, and a lingering phantom of pleasure. His eyes were wide, fixed on the terrifying, beautiful sight of Elias, still asleep, still perfectly oblivious, his own hardened member pulsing visibly in the dim light. The inferno had consumed Milo, leaving him a smoldering, confused, and utterly shocked mess. This was a nightmare. And he was already looking forward to the next one.
Then, a subtle shift.
Elias's heavy eyelids fluttered. A soft groan rumbled in his chest, a sound that wasn't pain, but rather the deep, slow sigh of someone emerging from profound sleep. Milo froze, every cell in his body screaming. He couldn't move, couldn't even pretend to be asleep. He was caught. Caught red-handed, drenched in the evidence of his own overwhelming reaction.
Slowly, deliberately, Elias's dark grass-green eyes opened. They were cloudy at first, unfocused, but then they sharpened with startling speed, the piercing intensity returning to their depths. He blinked once, slowly, taking in the soft light of the room, the pattern on the ceiling. His wolf-like ears twitched, sifting through the ambient sounds.
His gaze then slowly, almost lazily, dropped. It scanned over his own bare chest, then down his torso, lingering for a moment on the full, undeniable evidence of his own arousal. Milo's breath hitched again, expecting alarm, confusion, or perhaps instant fury.
But there was none of that.
Instead, Elias's eyes widened, a flicker of raw comprehension flashing through them. His pale cheeks, which Milo had thought utterly devoid of color, suddenly bloomed with a deep, furious crimson. His obsidian horns, usually stark and proud, seemed to recede slightly as his wolf-like ears flattened almost completely against his head in stark, undeniable mortification. His breath hitched, a sharp, choked sound.
His gaze snapped from his own body to Milo's wide, terrified eyes. The directness of the gaze was still there, but now it was laced with a startling, profound embarrassment. Elias's mouth, usually set in a hard, disdainful line, opened slightly, then snapped shut. He looked like he wanted to disappear into the very mattress they lay on.
Milo could only stare, his own face still burning, but now a new confusion mingled with the lingering shame.
Elias wasn't mad.
He wasn't sad.
He was flustered.
Deeply, utterly, spectacularly flustered.
The proud, cold, disdainful half-dragon was blushing like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Elias's gaze flickered wildly around the room, anywhere but at Milo, or himself. He let out a low, guttural sound, not a growl this time, but something like a frustrated huff. With a sudden, almost jerky movement, he reached down, snatching the duvet and pulling it up in a swift, desperate motion, completely covering his lower body and his face. He didn't just cover his erection; he practically buried himself under the sheets, leaving only the tips of his horns and the very top of his head visible.
The entire maneuver was clumsy, ungraceful, completely unlike the poised dignity Elias usually carried. It was the action of someone profoundly, utterly mortified.
Milo watched, dumbfounded. The silence that followed was thick, but no longer filled with contempt. Now it was just… awkward. And Milo, despite the lingering stickiness and his pounding heart, felt a strange, weak bubble of laughter rise in his chest. This was far more complicated than simple disdain. Elias was clearly aware of something that had happened, something that left him profoundly embarrassed.
A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through the lump under the duvet.
"Elias?" Milo ventured softly, his voice a little shaky, a nascent grin trying to break through his fluster.
There was no reply, only the faint sound of very rapid breathing muffled by the sheets. The formidable, ancient being who could pierce metal with his gaze was currently hiding under Milo's duvet, scarlet with embarrassment, in a spacious apartment in Westkilo, Calin City. And Milo, against all logical reason, found himself feeling a strange, tender amusement.