🔞Someone to Love [Ishman One Shots]✓

☁️🔞Love Me, Treasure [Part 2]

Ishan ate two bites of breakfast and spent the rest of the morning throwing up, which was . . . not a good thing.

What are you DOING? the dragon asked, sounding baffled.

“Leave me alone,” Ishan said sourly, and went back to bed.

The dragon left him alone for all of an hour before Ishan could feel their golden eyes on him from the kitchen door. He determinedly burrowed deeper into his bed. He still felt sick, and he had no intention of leaving it anytime soon. The dragon would sulk, probably, but the dragon sulked when he refused to eat raw meat or was doing chores when he wanted attention....

Ishan's cycle was late, which was probably why he felt sick, though it’d been some time since he’d had a cycle bad enough to actually make him sick. Maybe he was finally old enough that it was getting ready to stop coming, he halfheartedly hoped. His last one had been short, after all, and that would be nice; one less useless annoyance in his life, plus more time to fix up the house and garden and stables and grounds.

Are you still mad? the dragon said from the doorway. Ishan  glanced heavenwards for strength. Gods save him from his own taste in lovers, he thought.

“Yes,” he said. “Go away, Shubi.”

Go AWAY? the dragon said, sounding offended.

“You heard me,” Ishan  said. He’d never been the sort to seek comfort in other people, and the dragon wasn’t an exception just because they were a dragon and happened to have saved his life once. “I’m sick. I don’t want to be around anyone.”

Sick? the dragon said warily.

“Yes.” Ishan pulled a pillow over his head. The dragon had been bringing him a lot of bedding lately. The bed was beginning to resemble . . . well, a hoard. Ishan could use less of the bedding, of course, but it was comfortable. He’d never had more than one pillow before, and found it baffling that it’d never occurred to him to have more. Especially for nesting.

You don’t smell sick, the dragon said. Ishan made a disbelieving noise and lifted his head to stare at the other.

“Are you arguing with the way I puked up half my guts this morning?” he demanded incredulously.

. . . no?

“You are!”

It’s not MY fault you don’t smell sick.

“Get out!” Ishan  threw a pillow at him. He was too nauseous for this. The dragon made an offended noise, but retreated.

Ishan scowled at the empty doorway, not actually feeling any better, then burrowed down in his bed again.

Ishan woke up feeling better and tripped over the two dead elk outside the kitchen door, which was far too much meat and clearly meant the dragon was overcompensating. He sighed, and went to butcher them. He was annoyed, still, but it was hard to be at the same time. The dragon was clearly trying to make him feel better, so he couldn’t exactly be mad.

Well, he could. And he would, if he were to be too pushy about it.

“I can’t eat all this, you realise,” he called out the door after he’d taken what he could of the meat and filled both the oven and the stewpot to bursting. The dragon landed in front of the door, eyeing him warily.

I will eat the rest, obviously, he said, which he usually did, so Ishan supposed that would be fine. He didn’t like the idea of wasting so much food. He was going to have to figure out how to smoke things, maybe, or make jerky.