Mabon watched them for a moment - the easy affection, the comfortable intimacy they’d built over nearly a century together. They’d courtedeach other properly, taking decades to understand the depths of their bond. Now they fumbled through courting Sam like hatchlings who’d never seen another dragon - although, to be fair, Sam wouldn’t have seen a dragon before either.
“Next one,” Mabon said, selectingThe Proposal.
This time, Rux climbed onto the sofa properly, sprawling across both Mabon and Urien. Mabon shifted to accommodate him, one hand resting on Rux’s shoulder while Urien’s arm draped across both of them.
“Fake relationship becomes real,” Mabon summarized as the credits rolled. “Not applicable.”
“The bit where he stops her at the airport, though.” Rux grabbed a spring roll from the last takeaway container and offered half to Mabon without looking. Mabon accepted it, took a bite, then passed the rest to Urien. “That was in public with clear intent and couldn’t be misunderstood.”
“We’d need an airport,” Urien deadpanned.
“Metaphorically.”
They watched three more films in succession.Notting Hill, where a man chased after the woman through the London streets.Crazy, Stupid, Love, where a grand gesture involved the protagonist’s entire family.When Harry Met Sally, which seemed to suggest that declarations should happen on New Year’s Eve after years of friendship.
“We don’t have years,” Rux pointed out. He’d shifted positions again, now tucked against Mabon’s side with his head on Mabon’s shoulder. Mabon’s arm wrapped around him automatically, thumb tracing absent patterns on Rux’s bicep.
“We have…however long it takes,” Urien said quietly. He’d moved to the sofa’s other end, legs stretched across both his mates’ laps. “We’re not human. We have time.”
“Our dragons don’t have patience,” Mabon corrected. The only thingkeeping him seated, instead of flying in the rain toward Sam’s cottage, was the warm weight of his mates beside him.
Rux turned his face into Mabon’s shoulder. “Your heart stone’s going mad, isn’t it?”
“All of ours are.”
Urien’s hand found Mabon’s free one, lacing their fingers together. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Before or after Sam decides we’re completely insane?”
“Possibly after.”
Mabon huffed, but he squeezed Urien’s hand. This - the three of them tangled together on the sofa, takeaway containers scattered around them, ridiculous human films playing on the television – it worked for them. They understood each other, anticipated each other’s needs, and offered comfort without having to be asked.
How did they translate that to Sam?
“There’s a pattern,” Mabon said, starting another film.About Time, where a man could travel through time. “Every grand gesture has the same elements.”
“Time travel?” Rux asked hopefully.
“No. There always seems to be a public declaration, with very clear communication, demonstrating an understanding of the person’s desires.” Mabon paused. “And witnesses. There are always witnesses for some reason.”
“Sam works in a coffee shop,” Urien pointed out. “There are always witnesses there.”
“Good point.”
They watched the protagonist travel back through moments with his beloved, choosing her again and again. When the film ended, Rux had tears on his cheeks. Urien reached across Mabon to thumb them away gently, leaning in to press a kiss to Rux’s temple.
“We already chose each other,” Rux said thickly. “Now we need Sam to choose us.”
“He will,” Mabon said with more confidence than he felt. “We just need the right gesture.”
“Tomorrow?” Urien asked.
“Tomorrow we plan.” Mabon looked at the clock – it was almost four in the morning. “Today we sleep.”
/~/~/~/~/
Mabon woke on the sofa to sunlight streaming through the library windows and Rux’s elbow in his ribs. Urien had somehow ended up on the floor, still asleep, one hand clutching the remote control.
