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There is a limit to everything, Katsuki comes to learn, and it comes at the worst timing possible.
He holds out as much as he can, breath held and tears streaming down his face as he fights an urge to sneeze. Someone - probably a servant - keeps messing with the dishes from what he can hear, and he cannot allow himself to be seen. Not in this place.
It’s when he almost feels like dying that the door finally slams shut. Immediately, Katsuki lets go and drops down what he assumes is a chimney, hacking his lungs out in a desperate coughing fit a simple sneeze turned into.
He hates it. Hates that he has to scramble around this place like a measly cockroach trying to survive, pride forgotten in the face of pure survival.
It is unlikely that he will be killed if he gets caught, but… he is pretty certain his fate would be worse than that. What a waste would it be, to get rid of a valuable goods that can be sold for a pretty penny, wouldn’t it?
Katsuki never signed up to be trading goods, but the iron around his wrists and neck doesn’t really care.
Wiping the drool and tears off with the back of his hand - smearing the soot and dust more likely - he scrambles to his feet, instinct screaming at him for being in such a vulnerable position. He just needs a chair, or something, to prop him up to climb higher in the chimney and hopefully out onto the roof of the castle -
“Well, well, well. Looks like the little mouse finally shows itself,” a voice rumbles behind his back, startling Katsuki almost bad enough to make him jump.
If he had time, he would curse himself out for being so stupid. Just because the servant was gone didn’t mean he was there alone. There’s a man sitting behind the served table, a dragon Katsuki realizes at a second glance, much larger than an average human and spread out leisurely in the chair.
The dragon tilts his head with a lazy smirk. “Who would’ve thought that such a tiny mouse can cause so much trouble. Little linen thief, aren’t you?”
Katsuki bristles at the treatment, baring his teeth in a vicious hiss. There’s no room left to plan, he knows if he doesn’t do anything, then it’s all over for him. So he crouches low to the ground and charges, crossing the distance in a few quick steps of dexterous padded paws, kicking off the huge tabletop to spring over the dragon’s head. He twists, chain links clinking as he throws his arms out, looping the chain between his cuffs around the dragon’s neck and pulling tight.
Strangulation is not his preferred method of killing, but he has to work with cards he’s been dealt. He waits for the scramble, for the chair to topple and those large clawed hands to try and throw the chain off, but instead -
The dragon’s entire frame shakes. Barely at first, before the dragon throws his head back and cackles, a startling booming sound that almost makes Katsuki let go.
“Oh gods, that’s - “ the dragon laughs, poking at the chain around his neck and growing short of breath. “Nobody’s tried to kill me in so long!”
Katsuki doesn’t have time to react before a large, scaled hand covers the back of his neck, drawing him forward.
“You’re just the cutest little thing.”
The dragon slams their heads together, making Katsuki let go and whine sharply in pain. His ears ring even as he struggles against being scruffed and pulled forward - but what can he do, with his movements limited, hungry and so, so tired, against someone almost twice his size?
“Aww, I’m sorry, little one. Your skull is probably not as hardy as mine - woah!”
Still, Katsuki trashes in the other’s grasp, hissing and kicking his feet even as he’s lifted by the scruff - how humiliating! One of his paws connects with what feels like a stomach, hardly causing any impact against balanced muscle and fat.
Instead, a large hand catches his paw, startling Katsuki in surprise when a thumb presses on his plantar pad.
“Don’t kick at me, little mouse, we wouldn’t want to hurt your little beans,” the dragon huffs, watching how Katsuki’s claws flex and retract on reflex as the thumb keeps pushing on.
It’s so… startling, Katsuki does stop struggling, simply watching the dragon watching him.
When the dragon catches his eye, he grins, baring teeth much sharper and larger than Katsuki’s. “Clever mouse. Now, I bet these things are hardly comfortable - “ Katsuki flinches when a clawed hand reaches for him, but there’s hardly anywhere he can go with the hand still holding him by the scruff.
Except, he’s gently lowered on the floor and the grip on his neck loosens.
“- Easy there. Let’s see,” stunned, Katsuki watches as the dragon simply grips the bolt keeping the handcuff closed and… twists, as easily as one would a key, until the metal bends and breaks with a nasty screech. “This is much better, isn’t it?”
The dragon doesn’t wait for his reaction or response, instead working on the second cuff in the same way before the chains drop at their feet with loud clanking sound.
Katsuki blinks at his wrists, bare except for the red welts where the skin has been rubbed raw in his little rebellious acts. When he looks up, the dragon catches his eye and offers a smug grin. Wordlessly, Katsuki looks back down at the similar cuffs adorning his ankles.
The dragon has an audacity to chuckle. “You silly little thing… Come on then, sit.”
Not appreciating being called silly, Katsuki bristles and bares his fangs in a hiss. Still, when a chair is pulled out, obviously for him, he does take it with no further protest - he’s not about to look gift horse in the mouth. If the dragon is being dumb enough to grant him freedom, of course he is going to take it.
What he does not expect, though, is for the dragon to actually kneel by his feet on the floor. With just a little fiddling, another set of cuffs fall off, and Katsuki barely holds back from swinging his feet in wonder like a little kit.
It feels like a trap. Like there’s another shoe to be dropped. Why would the dragon free him, if that only makes it easier for him to escape?..
And that’s when it hits him. Soft, delicious aroma coming from all the food laid out on the table he is sitting at. Katsuki can hardly name all the things there, food too fancy for him to recognize, but the smell - oh, he hates his sharp nose at time like this, when his stomach rumbles embarrassingly loud in the quiet of the room, and saliva pools in his mouth, leaving him almost drooling all over the fancy tablecloth.
He almost yips in surprise when his chair is suddenly moved, and he’s pushed closer towards to the table, coming face to face with a plate that looks to be waiting just for him.
He can feel the presence of the dragon behind his back when he leans in, broad frame radiating warmth and soft smell of burning embers.
“Hungry, aren’t you?” The dragon inquiries, sounding not at all bothered by the situation at hand. “I bet you must be, sneaking around for so much time. You should try the soup,” a clawed hand reaches past Katsuki’s head to pick up the ladle sticking from a large ornament pot; the liquid inside smelling absolutely divine. “They always serve me way more than I can eat, and it should be easy on your stomach. Give it a try, little mouse.”
Before Katsuki knows it, the bowl in front of him is full of steaming liquid and the dragon eases back into his own chair, like nothing has happened.
His stomach rumbles again. Katsuki licks his lips, he would never let food go to waste, and he couldn’t care less why the dragon was offering to feed him -
Oh. Disgruntled, he stares at his hands covered in dust, soot and who knows what else; hands that he almost touched his food with.
Conflicted, he looks back at the dragon whose eyes widen in surprise before he grins.
“You’ve got manners! I wasn’t really sure, you know - come here,” he gets up and Katsuki obediently follows, making sure to frown and huff angrily at the insinuation. Manners or not, only a stupid creature would touch its food with dirty paws!
“Give me your hand,” the dragon asks when they stop by a trolley with a big basin of clear water on it. Demonstratively, Katsuki humphs instead and dunks his hands in the water himself, using a small cloth lying by to rub the dirt off his palms until the water gets murkier but his hands are almost squeaky clean.
Irritatingly enough, the dragon says nothing, just crosses his arms and watches Katsuki with that smug grin of his, even when Katsuki almost throws the cloth at his face.
Hands clean, he doesn’t wait for another command, instead marching back to the table on his own. The soup smells just as delicious as it did; when Katsuki finally lifts the bowl to his lips, he almost moans at the rich, creamy taste.
He nearly inhales the soup, trying his best to tame his hunger a bit to avoid choking. He slurps at the soup and reaches for the fresh cut loaf of bred, then cheese cut into neat cubes and what looks, and tastes, like tiny tomatoes.
This is heaven. After such a long time with barest nutrition and then none at all, Katsuki is on the brink of crying at the opportunity to finally quench the hunger eating him from the inside out.
Gnawing on another tiny tomato, he dares a look at the dragon, belatedly realizing that he let himself go loose on all the food that is not his -
The dragon is watching him, cheek propped up on the palm of his hand. He doesn’t look bothered one bit, instead lifts his glass of what looks to be wine in a cheerful salute. “Is the food good, little one?”
Not risking appearing ungrateful, Katsuki gives a sharp nod, stuffing another piece of ham into his mouth.
“Splendid. The kitchen staff would be happy to hear someone enjoyed their efforts, I’m sure.” He doesn’t say anything else, instead going back to his own food. Katsuki watches him for a moment, eternally confused, but why would he stare at the dragon when he has all this food?
He doesn’t eat as much as he picks on a little bit of everything, tail wagging happily without him even noticing. He doesn’t even pay much attention when the dragon pours some fruit-smelling liquid in his glass. It tastes sweet and strongly of fruit, but there’s not a trace of alcohol, so Katsuki drowns it all in one go.
Before he knows it, he’s leaning heavily against the back of the chair, sapped of all energy now that he’s finally full and his thirst is sated, warm and - possibly even safe.
He hardly reacts when the dragon reaches out to pet his dirty hair, claws scratching gently at the base of his ears and making Katsuki all but melt even more into his seat, on the brink of falling asleep like that.
“No, no, no, I understand you’re feeling much better now, but you cannot just fall asleep on me, little mouse,” the dragon chastises him, but his voice is quieter, gentle. “We gotta get you ready for bed first. Come on, up you go.”
Katsuki cannot find it in himself to protest when he is ushered off his seat. Theoretically, he… could run away now, if the wanted. He has been fed, and he is no longer chained up. By all means, all he needs to do is take a break for it and jump out the open window -
He doesn’t do that. He cannot explain why, but he simply cannot force himself to do it, instead following obediently on unsteady legs when the dragon leads him out of the room with a heavy hand placed between his shoulder blades.
It’s. Nice, if he is honest with himself. It’s been a while since he had any sort of companion touch, one he could welcome with ease.
“Totally forgot, but my name’s Eijirou,” the dragon says as they turn a corner, to which Katsuki can only raise an eyebrow in question at the lack of last name.
The dragon winks back at him. “Not gonna ask, little one?”
If that was just a ploy to make him talk, Katsuki is not falling for it. He rolls his eyes and huffs, but doesn’t prob for an answer; if the dragon wants to be called Eijirou, he has no qualms doing so in his head.
It takes a moment to realize, when a cloud of vapor curls around them from behind an open door, that the dragon Eijirou brought him to the royal bathing chambers.
At least, they look royal. Katsuki looks around curiously, never having a chance to do so before. Usually when he found himself in places like this, he was supposed to get the job done and get out as quickly as possible. Without any blood spilled all over the marbled floors, he can admit that the room does look quite nice.
If a bit too yellow for his tastes.
“This goes off,” is all the warning he gets before Eijirou grabs the sheet Katsuki had wrapped around himself, pulling a started “Hey!” out of him as the fabric comes undone, leaving him buck naked in the middle of the room.
“What even was it? Tablecloth? Sheets? It looks like you used it to polish all the chimneys in the castle,” Eijirou reproaches like nothing is happening at all, pulling up a little stool with his tail and pushing Katsuki to sit down. “You are one filthy little mouse. Eyes closed!”
Now wide awake, Katsuki shuts his eyes tight at the command, hair standing on end when he is doused with a bucket of warm water. Sooty little rivulets flow towards the drain, but he can hardly see it, not risking getting any water with soot or dust in his eyes.
He tenses up at first when washcloth touches his bare shoulder. Eventually though, Eijirou’s repetitive motions of cleaning him up lull him into somewhat a trance.
Katsuki cannot blame it on anything else other than himself. It’s been so long since he last felt truly, really clean, which was probably after a steam bath back home, and that feels like eons ago. It just feels too good to be scrubbed clean when he can almost feel layers of dirt peeling off under soap and what feels like sponge.
He doesn’t question it when Eijirou kneels behind him to wash over his stomach, only shuddering sweetly when those broad hands swipe over his thighs and dips of his hips.
The dragon’s hand is big enough to cover the entirety of his pussy and that… sure makes him feel. Something.
His mind wanders off, thinking how much better would it feel if the touch was deliberate, carried intent, and a purpose. Anyone would think the same in this situation, wouldn’t they?
He slowly blinks his eyes open when Eijirou taps his thigh and gets up himself. The dragon doesn’t look any that different; hell, he barely even looks sweaty from all the steam permeating the room. He’s fully clothed too, still, even if he has undone his tunic, baring toned stomach and trails of scales creeping up his sides.
Considering Katsuki is all wet like a drowned rat and naked, the comparison makes the situation feel pretty unfair.
Two bottles are presented in front of him, glass shining merrily in the bright light of the bathroom. “Which one?” Eijirou asks, not specifying anything, as if Katsuki would have any clue what he is choosing aside from the vague scent he can detect and the color of the liquids inside.
Scrunching his nose, he taps the bottle with the white one that smells like wildflowers.
“Okay, now close your eyes again.” Katsuki scoffs at the demand but obeys, not even reacting this time when his head is tipped back and water pours over his hair. “Good boy, now sit still so I won’t get any of this stuff into your ears.”
Katsuki does, doing his best not to let any noises slip when steady hands work what feels like magic on his scalp. He doesn’t really like how strong the smell of wildflowers gets, but it’s not so bad when he’s being pampered like this.
There, Katsuki admits it. The dragon is just… pampering him, for one reason or another.
He could think all he wanted about it later, when he’s not so busy enjoying himself for once.
So he sits still while Eijirou diligently washes his hair, the only noises being idle splashes of water as it drips down his frame and Eijirou’s quiet humming - Katsuki is hardly an expert on music, but the tune is kinda pleasing to his ears.
When the last cup of water is washed over his hair, he feels like a new person. Grateful, too, even if he tries to strangle that particular thought until he knows what game the dragon is playing with him here.
His legs feel like jelly after sitting still for so long when Eijirou finally tugs him up. “This is the best part, you’ll see,” he says with a grin, leading Katsuki by hand to a low pool with steam rising over the water.
Tentatively, Katsuki dips a toe inside, his eyes immediately widening at the heat. He hardly needs any more invitation to quickly get into the water on little marble stairs.
He was wrong before. This is actually heaven.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Eijirou comments when Katsuki curls up on an underwater perch, face hidden in his folded arms atop the pool edge as he sighs happily and melts against the warmed-up marble. Everything is clean and warm and smells nice now that most of the product been washed off, it almost feels like a dream. But even his dreams are usually filled with desert sand or dirty little nooks of the cities he used to do jobs at - never this.
…maybe he is dead? In some weird, cozy afterlife for hardworking fennecs?
Katsuki snorts at his stupid little idea, peering up from his folded arms to see what Eijirou is up to.
His ears twitch in curiosity as we watches the dragon perched on a similar stool, long mane of red hair pinned up in a rather feminine manner as he washes himself like he did with Katsuki earlier.
Katsuki may be cautious, but he is not blind; he can appreciate another body when he sees something pleasing to the eye. And Eijirou is, well. Pleasing would be putting it mildly. He watches as muscles flex and scales shift when Eijirou moves, brilliant red melting into darker shades, closer to black at his ankles and wrists, and the very tip of his tail.
The tail that keeps moving languidly over the slippery floors, calling to the predator in the back of Katsuki’s mind, urging him to hunt it down like he would a desert mouse.
Eventually, his eyes slip closed again, lulled into daze by soft humming and splashing of water.
Katsuki only cracks an eye open when the door suddenly creaks open and a maid slips in, recognized by a crisp white apron tied around her waist. She bows with a short, “My Lord,” which fuels his curiosity but gives none of the answers. Eijirou, as if he knows they’re being watched, beckons her closer and murmurs something in a low voice that Katsuki cannot distinguish from his spot.
Still, hot water allows him stay relaxed even if his mind is alert now. Nevermind how non-threatening the staff at this place looked when he was hiding around, he should not let his guard down, just in case.
Take what you can while it is good, and run when things turn south; that’s how his kind always operated. The trick was to never get too used to the good stuff, if only to avoid the heartbreak when it would inevitably come.
He pretended to keep his eyes shut, however, when the maid leaves and Eijirou approaches him, crouching by the pool’s edge.
“I know you’re not sleeping, little one,” he huffs in amusement, ruffling Katsuki’s hardly dried hair. “I think we should get you out, lest you shrivel like a raisin.”
“You won't join me?” Katsuki can't stop the words tumbling out of his mouth, immediately wishing to bite his tongue off. To stay silent for so long, only to drop this?!..
“Why, are you inviting?” The dragon has the gall to laugh, not even batting an eye at his spoken words. “No, little one, you’re ready to fall asleep and I am, myself, quite tired for a soak. Come, let’s finish with you, shall we?”
Katsuki doesn’t really understand what he means, but takes the offered hand, allowing to be pulled out from the pool and guided back to the stool.
He doesn’t want to think that it’s disappointing when Eijirou puts on some loose linen pants before getting back to him, another glass jar of something sweet-smelling in hand. He’s told to sit still once again, only this time Eijirou puts what turns out to be a lotion all over him - if he didn’t hear that maid call Eijirou a “lord”, he would’ve supposed him to be just another servant, someone who serves at baths perhaps; those hands feel way too good massaging his shoulders.
Though, he doesn’t appreciate a washcloth being shoved in his face as much.
“What’s this for?” Katsuki scrunches his nose, even though the cloth doesn’t really smell like anything despite having soapy suds all over.
Eijirou gives him a look not unlike one a parent would give to a naughty child. “We can’t wash all of you squeaky clean aside from your face, now can we? Tilt your head and close your eyes.”
“My face’s pretty clean already,” Katsuki complains yet complies, tilting his head up. The cloth doesn’t feel too bad aside from when it nicks a scratch or too, but he barely feels it, used to much worse sensations.
After the soapy cloth, Eijirou wipes his face with a wet one, and then a dry one. Just as he’s about to complain, something cold and slimy lands on his cheek, making him hiss in disgust and bat the dragon’s hand away - or, well, at least try, because that large hand easily catches his wrist.
“Hey, none of that, it’s just aloe extract. Here, smell,” whatever Eijirou shoves under his nose does smell like aloe, but that’s not the point -
“I hate slimy shit,” Katsuki huffs, miffed but a bit calmer now that he knows it’s not a snail or something worse being put on his face. “S’nasty.”
“Well, sorry, but your skin will thank me for this. Say ‘ah’,” before Katsuki can say anything, a thumb pushes down on his bottom lip, pulling his mouth open just enough for what feels like balm to be smeared over cracked skin. When Katsuki’s tongue darts around, catching tip of Eijirou’s finger on accident, it tastes like honey, if a bit weird one.
“Now it’s all better. Thank you for sitting still,” Eijirou says at last, a clue for Katsuki to open his eyes. The dragon looks pleased, standing with his hands on his hips, lips pulled into a grin, but not as smug as before.
It’s nice. This expression suits his face much better, in Katsuki’s opinion.
“We’re done?” He inquires, standing up and stretching while Eijirou goes to pull something from the same shelf his own pants came from. However, what Katsuki is presented with is just a bundle of some light, pearly fabric he holds in total confusion. “...What’s this shit?”
To his displeasure, Eijirou barks a laugh at his confusion, even if he does take the bundle off Katsuki’s arms. “Something nice for you to wear. Let me show you, it’s not really that complicated - “
One moment, Katsuki watches the no doubt expensive sheer fabric slide over his hands, and the next something cold - metal, collar - wraps around his neck, immediately setting off all alarms in his head.
“Fucking -!” He thought he could anticipate a trap but he failed, now stuck in the exact same predicament he began with, except this time he still has his hands and claws to swap at the fucking dragon who did have a goddamn plan -
“Hey, hey, no, it’s okay, little one, see?” Again, Eijirou easily catches his hands in iron grip before slowly guiding them to his neck. “See? A clasp, you can undo it just like that.”
He uses Katsuki’s fingers to pull on the latch and the collar clicks open, falling into Eijirou’s waiting palm.
Katsuki stares at the latch, a perfectly normal one, not unlike what a necklace would have. No bolt and lock, no keyhole.
“It’s just an accessory, little one, it’s a part of the dress. See?” Eijirou closes the collar and clicks it open again, carefully depositing it into Katsuki’s own hands.
It really is nothing more than just a part of the accessory from what Eijirou called… a dress. All Katsuki can see is layers and layers of sheer fabric being clipped between metal plates of the collar, but what does he know about dresses?
“Okay,” he mutters quietly, allowing Eijirou put the collar back on him, much slower this time. Katsuki’s hands fly to check on the locking mechanism right after, but it’s still there, still clicks open when he presses the latch.
He could do it at any time with this one.
When Eijirou sets the fabric straight, it suddenly makes sense - the fabric coming from the collar covers him in two pieces from the front and back, leaving two slits down his sides where the collar's lock mechanism is, allowing for the free movement of his arms and legs. When Eijirou ties a silky ribbon around his waist, the draping actually takes form, following the shape of his body.
Katsuki takes a turn, watching the fabric flow around him prettily, and then pauses.
“My tail.”
With slits down the sides, there’s nowhere really for his tail to go - it bunches the fabric up in the back, ruining the shape of the dress, a silly little thing to be unhappy about.
Eijirou frowns at it for just a moment before pulling Katsuki closer and extending a claw on his right hand.
To Katsuki’s horror, he does actually cut the expensive fabric, pulling Katsuki’s tail into the hole then and watching it swish around with a weirdly happy expression.
“You know,” he speaks up, strong hands trailing up Katsuki’s sides, warm and steady. “Now that you’re not so dirty, you don’t look like a poor little brown mouse any more. A pretty little fox you are, aren’t you, little one?”
“You dragons r’just stupidly big,” Katsuki huffs back, turning in the dragon’s arms and whacking him with his tail. He crosses his arms over his chest, but any posturing is immediately ruined when he cracks his jaw in a yawn.
“Alright, let’s get you to sleep,” Eijirou laughs at him, especially when Katsuki can’t really glare at him, teary-eyed from yawning too hard.
“I’m not tired,” he tries to argue, if only to keep up appearances, but all it earns him is an amused glance and an arm wrapping around his waist; possessive, almost.
“Of course, little one,” Eijirou pars, not even batting an eye before he lifts Katsuki up, ignoring his indignant yelp and demand to be put down. “I spent so much time cleaning you, I’m not setting you back down on the ground, so be a dear and stop struggling, yes?”
Katsuki does, reluctantly, if only to digest the fact that Eijirou simply perched him on his forearm like one would a hunting bird, carrying his weight with alarming ease.
The chambers they go to are, surprisingly, on the same floor, which makes something itch in the back of Katsuki’s mind, like an idea he cannot really reach just yet but would realize sooner or later. Everything inside is fitted for a lord, not much surprise here, but all Katsuki is interested in is the bed located right in the middle of the room.
It’s huge and the blankets and pillows look perfectly fluffed, yet when Eijirou sits him down on the soft mattress, Katsuki can’t help unpleasant feeling churning in his stomach.
He lifts his foot, pushing against Eijirou’s stomach lightly to keep him at a distance.
“I won’t have sex with you,” he says, loud and clear even as the words fall awkwardly off his tongue. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but -”
The window is open, he won’t hesitate to hurt this dragon if it meant getting away. He didn’t let anyone touch him before; he isn’t about to start now just because he’s been shown some kindness.
“Okay,” is all Eijirou says in response, placing a hand on Katsuki’s naked calf and stroking gently with his thumb. “My kind calls having an unwilling lover a disgrace, but would not suppose you knew this before.”
“What one’s kind considers acceptable matters fuck all when one person gets something in their head,” he counters, pushing back firmer, and the dragon doesn’t even bulge.
“Fair. But you can slash my face open at any time if you don’t like what I do, can’t you?”
He doesn’t hate that cutesy head tilt as much as he probably should. “I can. I will.” And then, he cracks another yawn, because his body is not on board with his mind, to his regret.
Predictably, Eijirou laughs, letting go of his foot to pick a tray off a drawer. “I think you would fall asleep half way through even if I did try to mate you, little one, and I’m not sure my ego wants to try that,” he teases, disregarding Katsuki’s glower and putting the tray in his hands instead to climb onto the bed himself.
Katsuki looks at the cups and small plate in curiosity, poking one colorful cube with a tip of his claw. It feels soft, and the white stuff atop looks powdery, and tastes sweet when he licks it off. “What’s this?”
“Some tea before sleep, and something sweet for you to try,” Eijirou humms, carefully pulling the tray from his hands and setting it down on the blankets before offering Katsuki one of the small porcelain cups. “Tell me how you like it.”
The tea is sweet and smells of what Katsuki thinks is chamomile; it reminds him of all the herbal teas they would make back home, if not this sweet. The sweets - candy? - are tacky on his tongue and taste of fruit; when he bites down, his teeth crack a little nut inside.
“What it’s called?” He asks, licking the sugary powder off his third one, careful not to get it all over the bed and fabric of his dress.
“Lokum,” Eijirou smiles with his eyes over the cup of his own tea, picking a cube of his own. “Do you like it?”
Katsuki shrugs. “Not bad. Too sweet for me,” he yawns again, teeth clicking against the porcelain of the cup. The blankets are calling his name, so he puts the cup back on the tray and curls up with pillow Eijirou is not leaning against, one hand tucked underneath it out of habit of keeping a blade here.
“Guess I really tired you out, huh,” Eijirou murmurs, quiet enough that Katsuki barely hears it. He watches colors dance behind his closed eyelids before everything is engulfed in darkness when the candles get blown out - he didn’t even notice when Eijirou got up to do so.
“Sweet dreams, little fox,” is the last thing he thinks he hears before he loses the battle to sleep entirely.
•·················•·················•
Katsuki startles back awake when it’s still dark, not a hint of rising sun on the horizon.
Eijirou is right here, breathing softly as he sleeps, hands curled against his chest in a surprisingly childlike manner. Slowly sitting up on the bed, Katsuki just… studies him, for a moment. From the way his hair, colored violet in the moonlight, falls messily over his face, or how his tail rests over his ankle, as if clinging to its owner not to fall off the bed.
He seems like a kind-hearted person. The one who would feed and bath a stranger, for - what? A chance that he might get a potential lover?
Katsuki doesn’t know what to think of the situation, so he does what he always does in situations he has no clue about. He gets up from the bed, and heads to the open window, ready to leap out into the night and never come back again.
For one, though, he hesitates. Turns back to take just one last look at the dragon.
Gleaming red eyes meet him as Eijirou turns on his side, gaze not as sharp as it was just a couple hours ago.
“Do you really have to go?”
Katsuki stills, taken aback by the question. “What, are you inviting me to stay?” He doesn’t understand, why would Eijirou want him here? “I’m not exactly the kind of guy you want hangin’ around, believe me.”
Eijirou blinks, slow, not unlike a lizard. “I know. You’re Giran’s missing runaway, his people been up and around looking for you where we allowed them.”
Katsuki sneers. “So you know who I am? What’s all this for, then? Want to give me back as soon as you can or something? ‘Cause if you didn’t notice, I’m not gonna stay and be obedient little thing for you either.”
It’s quiet for a bit, with Eijirou visibly trying to stay awake and Katsuki, for some reason, unable to set a foot past the windowsill. The freedom is so close, why couldn’t he just take it?
“I’m not asking you to be my anything… just stay,” Eijirou does speak up eventually, heaving a soft sigh. “You will be well-fed and have access to anything you want… Your own chambers, anything. I just like the idea of having you around, s’all.”
“I’m an assassin,” Katsuki says, not really understanding why they are having this conversation to begin is. “My job is to kill, that’s what my kin does. I’m not gonna sit idly on my ass all day being pretty for you.”
“There’s plenty of game to hunt around,” Eijirou counters, mild as milk. “My people may like me, but same cannot be said for the entirety of my court. I know I would have to deal with them one way or another if I don’t want a treason on my hands.”
‘My’ people, ‘my’ court. Of course, it hits Katsuki like a stone to the head. So much luxury for a single person, why couldn’t he figure it out sooner that he is in the chambers of the High King Kirishima himself?
There’s a tapestry of the royal family tree on the wall, for gods’ sake. How could he not notice?
“I don’t understand,” he hisses, clutching at the wood of the windowpane. “You can have literally anyone here, what the fuck do you want to do with a rat like me?!”
To his bewilderment, Eijirou’s voice sounds downright petulant. “I never called you a rat. I said you looked like a little mouse, there's different.”
He sighs, and drags a hand over his face, turns on his back. “Let’s just suppose,” he murmurs to the ceiling. “That the guard did not get drunk on accident. And that he did not forget to lock the cage. What would you say to that, Katsuki?”
That is… a lot of implications. So much so it Katsuki him reeling, the mere idea of it makes him seethe because luck is one thing, but his escape being staged by someone else -
“Did you plan to get me here?” He asks, quiet, cold, ready for any and all answer.
“No, not really. Who knew what you were going to do... I truly was surprised to see you here.”
“Wait.” That’s when it downs on him. “I didn’t give you my name. How the fuck do you know it?!”
Eijirou, the bastard, just shrugs at him. “Why don’t you come back to bed and stay the night to find out?”
Katsuki could use his vulnerability. Could use his claws, or grab a dagger from the holder he saw, and put it to Eijirou’s neck to get the information he needs. What those implications mean, what does the dragon wants from him.
How does he know Katsuki’s name.
But… the freedom outside only tastes sweet when he’s locked up. Nothing holds him in this room, either, he is free to climb to the roof outside and disappear into the night. Go out there and do as he always did; fend for himself, struggle, survive.
Or, he could step back down from the windowsill. And get back to the bed, where his spot has already gone cold.
Eijirou does nothing but smile when he comes back, patting the spot beside himself with a clumsy floppy hand, eyes falling shut before Katsuki can even get under covers.
“You’re telling me every single thing in the morning,” he hisses, kicking the dragon in the shin.
The bastard doesn’t even flinch. “Uh-huh. Sleep tight, Katsuki.”
To Katsuki’s greatest dismay, he does.