The decent thing Kuzma should've done was leave. At least that was what he thought was decent instead of sitting in front of the human's small excuse for a dining table, wrapped up in the softest blanket he had ever felt while trying to keep himself from letting out inappropriate sounds with each bite of the chocolate cake he took.

After all he had thrown into the human's life, with the addition of Kuzma's suspicions of him and involuntary threats, Kuzma should've walked out that door instead of take the man's offer to tie his hair up and give him more of that intoxicating hot chocolate.

Leaving would've been the right thing to do, the moral thing to do, the selfless thing to do.

Too bad Kuzma had always been a selfish child, the morals of his people being that his status made him only lower than the royals which meant he could've treated anyone below him however he fucking wanted to.

The human was waiting on Kuzma hand and foot like he should've so, to be frank, there was nothing wrong with him staying in the one place that treated him like he should've been treated.

At least that was the reason he told himself as to why he didn't want to go.

It was easier to admit that than to admit that he just didn't want to be alone out there, didn't want to go out there in the world that saw him and imagined only his death. He didn't want to go there and be captured by the wolves or gods or those people, the last thing he felt before he finally begged for death after so many years being the cold steel of the night gods' chains.

He couldn't go back. Not after everything the human's home had given him, the unfamiliar feeling of warmth, the food, the safety. Kuzma couldn't go back and fight after receiving that. He didn't think he would've been able to hold on as long as he had since he had been taken by those people at the age of eleven.

It was self-serving and Kuzma didn't care. Him staying was most probably going to lead to the human's demise. It was probably going to bring the human more stress and disturbances until he lost his mind but even knowing that, Kuzma wasn't going to leave.

Kuzma could not begin to give a fuck and as much as his conscience tried to make him admit that he did give a fuck, Kuzma was happy to ignore the old, tired thing.

"How do you like the cake?"

Kuzma looked up from his seat to see the human looking down at him, the man's back pressed against his stove, flour and chocolate batter all over his grey shirt and a bit of chocolate on his right cheek.

"It is nice," Kuzma said blankly, picking up his glass of water and drinking it to avoid answering any more questions.

"Thank you. Not as good as Gran used to make but..."

Kuzma looked up from the empty glass still pressed to his lips when the human suddenly stopped talking, the man silently staring at the other chair at the dining table.

"Anyway," the human said, shaking his head and looking at Kuzma again, "you had a stressful day, huh? What do you say to take-out and movies? I've got Netflix?"

Kuzma blinked at him as he slowly placed the glass on the table.

"Take-out? Net-flex? What are you blabbering about?"

#

"So the human hatchling's toys are alive and they hide this fact from the humans. Why?" Kuzma asked, not understanding the movie at all.

"Because...You know? Humans react badly to things they don't understand. Stop psychoanalyzing Toy Story, Kuzma," the human said from the right of the couch, seemingly engaged with the confusing movie.

"If the toy with plastic wings is making things difficult for the skinny one with a hat, it should leave," Kuzma mumbled, getting annoyed with the stupid toy that thought it was a man.

He heard the human hum beside him but Kuzma kept his eyes on the screen, a couch pillow pressed to his chest.

"Why should he leave? The kid brought him home so it's his home too," the human said, yawning after.

"He's invading the home! The one with a brown hat was there first! The winged toy should leave before it makes things harder for the othe--Why is it off, human? I want to see if they escape the demonic hatchling!" Kuzma growled after the television suddenly went black, turning to the human with a snarl on his face.

The human looked at Kuzma, again, without a hint of fear or mockery or disdain, his eyes remaining their odd mix of exhaustion and blankness.

"Kuzma," he said, raising his legs off the floor to fold them under each other on the couch, "what exactly are you trying to say and why are you using Woody and Buzz to say it?"

Kuzma turned back to face the blank screen, pressing his lips to the pillow as he scowled down at his bare feet.

"I should leave," Kuzma said into the pillow, voice muffled by it and he internally hated himself for voicing those words.

His conscience had won, and even though Kuzma didn't fully know what was so wrong with staying despite all the trouble he had caused, he still felt guilt for being there.

How low have I gone?

"What? Didn't catch that with all that pillow," the human said, bending down to pick up his bottle of orange soda, as he called it. He remembered them as fizzy drinks but alas, Americans had their own words.

Kuzma sighed and placed the pillow in between the couch, his left elbow on the armrest as he placed his cheek on his fist, his free hand playing with his ponytail.

It has gotten so long. Like master's.

"I'm not all that good at reading minds, Kuzma. If something's bothering you, you can let me know. What are friends for?"

Kuzma turned to look at the human with a raised eyebrow, not sure why he asked the random question.

"They're comrades in battle," Kuzma answered, that being the only answer he could've thought of.

The human blinked twice, slowly, before sitting back on the couch and placed a hand over his eyes as he breathed deeply, free arm on the armrest.

"I dunno if that was the funniest answer ever or the saddest. I'm gonna go with saddest," the human said before removing the hand from his eyes to look at Kuzma who was starting to get annoyed.

"What do you mean?" Kuzma asked.

"Friends are people that look out for you no matter what. Real ones anyway. They point out the shit you do even though no one else would and they're there to tell you when you fuck up. They're the ones that help you when you fuck up and they're the ones you value their trust above others. A real friend is...is the family you choose."

"Family? My people are my family," Kuzma said, not sure if he was glad that the original question was lost because the conversation was leading up to something he didn't feel like talking about.

The human got quiet, pressing his lips together before sighing, then he said, "What's wrong, Kuzma?"

Fuck.

"I shouldn't still be here," Kuzma finally said, body tensing up, expecting his words to make the human kick him out.

"How come? I don't mind you being here," the human said, tilting his head slightly.

Then you're as looney as you look.

"I am going to bring more trouble to your household. The gods can't let my existence go and would probably involve a higher authority than the wolves. This wasn't your business and I have involved you too much as is. Like I originally said, I shouldn't be here, and you should've sent me off."

Kuzma turned away to look back at the blank screen, a knot forming in his stomach as he closed his eyes and waited patiently to be told to get out.

"You feeling guilty there, Kuzma?" the human asked and Kuzma turned around to growl at him, his canines bared and claws peeking out.

"Stop making fun of me, human!" he yelled, hating how calm the human remained.

"You can try to look scary all you want but the blushing just ruins it, dude."

Kuzma sat back down and raised his legs up as he hugged the pillow to his chest, frowning and glaring at his striped pajama pants.

"Look," the human said while sighing, shifting around the couch. "I'm not gonna lie to you, man. Having you around has...brought on a lot in the last few days that someone like me would've avoided like the plague. I don't like things that equal too much work."

Kuzma felt his heart drop and closed in more on himself, getting rid of his glare as he tried to quickly shut down his emotions so he didn't feel anything when the human finally sent him on his way.

I can fly and avoid the wolves. They wouldn't leave their territory like that. I'll find one of the underground cities and societies and hide there. Somehow.

"Even with that, I wouldn't ever send you away dude. You've grown on me and you can honestly stay for as long as you like. I don't mind it. It's actually nice having a roomie again."

Kuzma slowly raised his head from the pillow to look up at the human with wide eyes, disbelief washing over him and mixing violently with hope he didn't know he still had.

The human had turned to face him on the couch, left hand on the back of his neck, strands of his hair falling into his face as he looked down and continued to talk.

"I will help you any way I can. I don't think I can be much help with this...kinda political craziness but I'll try. I mean...I might die trying but...You know what? I'm not even going to think about that," he said, raising his free hand and shaking it in front of Kuzma.

The human sighed heavily, dropping both hands on his lap as his head moved downwards slightly before he suddenly flipped his head up, hair moving back.

"Mi casa es su casa. My house is your house and if you wanna leave, then that's your choice. I won't stop you. Just know you can always come back."

Kuzma didn't know what to say. The human had said similar things before but after the day they had, to be able to say that again and more looked impossible. Kuzma had no idea why the man was being so kind to him.

"Why?" Kuzma asked quietly, eyes still wide. "Why would you do all that? You owe me nothing. You don't even know me."

The human blinked at Kuzma before glancing at his left, looking over the couch.

"I don't. I mean I'd like to know ya but yeah. You've got a friend in me and all that jazz. That was cheesy as fuck. Forget I ever said that. Erase that from your brain right now."

Kuzma ignored the rambling and asked, "We are friends?"

He sounded as unsure as he felt, skeptical and surprised. From what the human has said about real friends, Kuzma didn't think he had any. His master was the closest thing to that but Kuzma was still his subordinate, not his equal in any way so no, Kuzma had never had a real friend.

The thought of calling the human a friend made Kuzma feel uncomfortable.

"Yeah sure," the human said with an indifferent shrug. "I mean we can work up to it. Right now we can be...acquaintances or like my best friend likes to say, we're buddies-in-progress."

"I'll stick with acquaintances," Kuzma said, his expression and tone deadpan.

The human let out a soft, short laugh then said, "Fine. And don't worry, Kuzma. You're no bother or stress at all. It's just bad circumstances in your life and I'll try my best to help and be there. It's what buddies-in-progress are for. It'll be cruel of me to just kick you out, especially after risking my life, talking back to a bunch of horrifying looking man-wolves."

Kuzma snorted at that, feeling something odd in his chest when he remembered when the human just slid to stand in front of him as if to protect him but that was fucking ridiculous. Kuzma could've killed everyone in the room in no more than thirty seconds.

But it's still nice, Kuzma reluctantly admitted, not sure he was ever going to get used to the human's odd personality.

Really. How can anyone be that kind?

"You do realize that those dogs could've ripped your throat open before you even started to speak," Kuzma said quickly, trying to not think about the human's nature.

He didn't want to get used to it. Now that he knew it wasn't an act, Kuzma was just waiting for the moment he was going to be ripped out of such a place, finding it too good to be true that he found such a person in a world like his. He wanted to avoid missing it so much when it was gone.

But the human was making it difficult, with his pampering and nice words and warm clothes and delicious food.

"Great," the human said, stretching out the word. "I so needed to know that. Thanks, Kuzma. Like I didn't have enough nightmares."

Kuzma felt his lips twitch upwards, the action making him blink with surprise as he raised a hand to touch his lips, wondering if something was wrong.

He didn't have time to question it as a sudden buzz sound had him jumping and turning around to the door's hallway, wondering what could've done that.

"Relax." Kuzma turned back around to see the human standing up, pulling down the bottom of his large grey shirt. "It's probably just the Chinese take-out I ordered."

"But--" Kuzma started off, stopping himself when the human placed a gentle hand on his head and gave him a small smile, just like in the morning when the sirin had hurt the human.

"Relax, okay?"

And he left for the door, some of his hand's heat still on Kuzma's head and the sirin soon got up to stand behind the human, just wanting to be sure he was safe.

It was the least Kuzma could've done after all the human was doing for him and even though he could've imagined his people's spirits rolling in rage at having someone of his rank playing bodyguard for a human, a part of him agreeing with them, Kuzma still did it anyway.