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He should have known. He should have known , because it was Jagged, and despite being an international rock star, a pioneer in his field, and, apparently, Luka’s biological father, when it came to getting his way, Jagged Stone was twelve fucking years old.
Take Fang for a walk, mate. Nah, it’ll be fine, he loves you! Penny ordered some macarons for ‘im for afterward, so take your time, wink wink.
Luka was pretty sure he was getting kicked out so that Jagged could make out with Penny, which was gross on so many levels, especially now that he knew Jagged was his dad and had apparently once done things like that with Luka’s mother and—
That train of thought had led to Luka giving in so that he could flee the scene of those very uncomfortable thoughts, and now Luka was stuck wrestling an 800 pound crocodile in the lobby of Paris’ fanciest hotel, all because Fang decided to throw a hissy fit (Luka had recently learned that crocodiles could, in fact, hiss) during his morning walk because the carpet had snagged one of his claws, and Fang, it turned out, was kind of a wuss.
Luka was far from a weakling to begin with, growing up working on the boat, which always needed repair in some tight and uncomfortable corner. After months of tagging around as a roadie and occasional backup guitarist to bond with his wanna-be father, lifting sound equipment and setting up stages and wedging himself into improbable positions to hook up sound equipment, he was probably in the best shape he’d ever been. So he was almost, sort of, holding his own against the thrashing crocodile, pressing his weight down on Fang and trying to get the dumb beast to hold still , damnit. He managed to get astride Fang’s neck and get a hand on either side of his massive jaws to hold them shut all while trying to reassure the hotel patrons that the situation was under control.
“Now, you big baby,” he growled, lifting Fang’s muzzle up and back to keep him from thrashing. “Hold—” He glanced up at the small crowd that had gathered—and promptly forgot about them as his gaze locked on the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She blinked big blue eyes with long lashes and her cheeks pinked and he suddenly felt like Fang had kicked him in the gut. “Still,” he finished breathlessly.
Unfortunately, Fang sensed his distraction, jerked his muzzle free, and with a wild thrash and half-spin that required more energy than Luka had ever seen the lethargic creature use, he threw Luka off.
The crowd scattered out of his way as he tumbled across the floor towards them, except for the blue-eyed girl in the pink dress, who didn’t move. Luka rolled to a stop at her feet on his back, and for a moment they stared at each other
“Hi,” Luka panted, and a giddy grin spread over his face.
"Are you all right?” she asked anxiously, crouching down beside him and brushing his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. It shouldn’t have been possible for his heart to beat any harder considering he’d just been wrestling a crocodile three times his size, but it sure did its best as she stared into his eyes. It took longer than it should have to register that she was checking him for a concussion.
“Yeah,” he gasped. “Yeah, I’m good.” By some miracle, he noticed the box she was holding on her lap as she crouched. “Wait, are those macarons?”
“Um, yes?” Blue eyes blinked. “I’m supposed to be delivering them to Jagged Stone.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” Luka groaned, rolling over. “I work for him. Sort of. Can I have one of those please?” He got to his feet and pulled off his hoodie, tossing it to one side. It was one of the only articles of clothing he owned that wasn’t ripped and he wanted to keep it that way. Those big eyes got even bigger, roving over his shoulders and arms for a moment before she fumbled the box open and offered him a cookie.
He grinned, holding up the macaron between them. “Thanks, uh—”
“Oh,” her eyes widened again. “I’m, uh, my name’s Ma-Ma-Marinette.”
“Hello Ma-Ma-Marinette,” he chuckled, thoroughly charmed, “I’m Luka, and I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
A small hand caught his arm as he turned away and he looked back in surprise. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” she asked him anxiously, looking between him and Fang with concern. Marinette didn’t look frightened of the crocodile, but she looked up at him with a worried expression that had Luka ready to melt into a puddle at her feet. She was too sweet.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “He looks scary, but he’s basically a big baby throwing a temper tantrum. I’ll be fine.” He winked at her and faced Fang with renewed purpose.
“Fang,” he called, waving the macaron in the crocodile’s field of vision. “Hey, boy, fancy a snack? Who’s a good croc? Fangy want a treat?”
Fang’s massive head followed him, and the crocodile’s jaws gaped wide.
“That’s it, Fang,” Luka coaxed. “You want the treat? Let’s have a trick. Down, Fang.”
The crocodile flopped on his belly obediently. “Good boy, Fang!” Luka praised. “Now, stay...just hold still a bit…”
Fang’s head turned as Luka held out the macaron at arm’s length, trying to reach Fang’s caught claw while keeping his attention on the macaron.
It didn’t work; Fang lunged for the treat, forcing Luka to jump back, and pulled hard on his trapped and probably now sore paw. Fang chomped the cookie, which Luka had dropped in his surprise, and then made what should have been an angry bellow but was really more like a big whine as he began to thrash. Luka spared a moment of grudging admiration for whoever had made this damn carpet. Fang’s claws were filed religiously so he wouldn’t be slicing through it anytime soon, but you’d think he’d have managed to break free by now.
But then again, he was kind of an overgrown pampered poodle instead of the apex predator he should have been.
“Aw, c’mon, you big baby!” Luka groaned, throwing his weight back on the grumpy animal to stop his thrashing before he hurt himself. “Would you just hold fucking still for two seconds—” There was a flash of pink at the corner of his eye and he looked quickly to find Marinette at his elbow. She shoved another macaron into his hand, and Luka quickly leaned over Fang to wave it in front of the croc’s face. “Hey Fang, you want another?” he called, and the massive head swung away from his caught claw in pursuit of the macaron. That was great, for the moment, but Luka couldn’t figure out any way to tempt Fang with the macaron and get his claw loose at the same time.
Suddenly there was a weight against his leg, and Luka looked back in surprise just in time to see the girl of his dreams grab Fang’s foreleg and force it down until there was some small amount of slack in the loose threads that had trapped him. Then she reached over with her other hand and did something Luka couldn’t see.
Just like that, Fang was free, and Luka, bent over nearly in half and hanging off the side of a crocodile, lost his heart completely. The love of his life sat up and her unfairly perfect lips curved in a triumphant smile as she brushed blue-black bangs out of her eyes. He stared as she tucked the seam ripper that had been in her hand back in her purse, and cooly tossed Fang another cookie.
He entertained a brief fantasy of grabbing her gorgeous face and kissing her stupid right then and there, but it seemed a Jagged kind of thing to do, which meant it was probably a bad idea. Instead he slithered off of Fang’s back and sat next to her on the carpet.
“So, uh,” he said, still rather winded but giving her the most charming grin he could muster under the circumstances. “Thanks for the assist.”
She giggled. “My pleasure.”
“Well, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” Luka said, turning slightly so his back was resting against the now-docile crocodile and drawing up one knee to prop his arm across it. “Will you marry me?”
She burst into bright laughter that touched his musical soul, and he longed for his guitar. “Too soon, huh?” Luka sighed dramatically. “How about dinner, then? I promise I’ll leave Fang at home. Whoa!” He nearly fell backwards as Fang abruptly moved away from him, swinging around to nose the box of treats and then—and then the fucker turned and put his head in Marinette’s lap, blinking up at her ever so innocently.
Marinette giggled and reached for the box, plucking out a macaron and dropping it into Fang’s mouth. She patted the crocodile’s head as he munched happily. “Aw, you’re just a puppy dog with scales, aren’t you?” she cooed, and Luka had never in his life believed he would be jealous of a fucking lizard, but here he was. Then Marinette looked up at Luka and smiled and blushed and he was ready to kiss Fang himself for giving him the chance to meet her. “Um, dinner sounds good,” Marinette said shyly, shoulders hunching slightly. “What did you have in mind?”
Luka could only hope the grin that was spreading across his face wasn’t as dopey as it felt.
Luka drifted back into Jagged’s suite wearing that same dopey grin and a dreamy look in his eyes, Fang waddling along contentedly at his side.
Penny frowned as he wandered past her. “Luka, everything okay?”
“Fantastic,” Luka replied, grin widening. “Can’t talk right now, Penny, I need my guitar.”
He went into his room, Fang still waddling along with him. A few minutes later the sound of Luka’s guitar drifted through the suite.
His door was still open, so Penny peeked in to see Luka on the floor, leaning back against Fang, strumming as he stared into nothing with that dreamy look on his face. Fang’s tail thumped lightly in time with the melody.
Penny turned and whisper-yelled for Jagged. She waved him over. “Do you think he’s okay?” she asked, nodding toward Luka’s room.
Jagged listened for a minute, and then began to cackle. “Aw, leave him be, Penny,” he chortled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Boy’s got it bad. Let him work it out for a bit and then we’ll find out who the little lady is.” Jagged rubbed his hands gleefully. “It’s about time he found a muse. He was good before, he’s gonna be brilliant now. Every great musician needs inspiration, right love?” He chucked Penny under the chin and she blushed.