Knox took one look into the lobby of Flint’s building and immediately wanted to turn tail and never look back.

He had an inkling that Flint was well off, or at least not living paycheck to paycheck like he was. He was always dressed in nice clothing, and he paid for his coffee every Tuesday. When they had lived together they’d often eaten out, and Flint had always paid then too. The few times Knox had tried to pay, Flint would refuse or ignore him completely, so eventually he’d just accepted that that’s how their friendship worked. He’d always chalked it up to Flint not wanting to owe anyone anything, or maybe pity, but either way he wasn’t exactly in a position where he could complain. He couldn’t afford the extra ten bucks for overpriced coffee every week even if he wanted to.

Flint’s apartment building screamed expensive. It was located in a nice part of town, farther from campus, and the lobby housed marble floors shiny enough for him to see his reflection in, immaculate potted plants that looked real framing aesthetically pleasing couches. A pretty woman sat at the reception desk, greeted them with a smile and a wave that Flint ignored.

He just strode toward the elevator, Knox following behind like a stray he’d just picked up off the street. He waved back sheepishly. He was pretty sure a forked tongue slithered out of the woman’s mouth as he turned his head, tasting the air much like a snake would.

He decided that little detail wasn’t worth his time.

The elevator opened immediately, and they both stepped inside. Flint pulled a keycard out of his wallet, sliding it in the card read. The button simply labeled “P” lit up, and they began ascending upward whenever the metal doors slid shut.

“You live in the penthouse?” He asked.

Flint merely nodded.

The elevator dinged shortly afterward, doors opening to reveal Flint’s apartment. Knox was immediately hit with the amount of stuff that the penthouse held. It was like nothing he’d seen before, just the entry way was overloaded with material items, small tables lining the walls, tops covered in valuable jewels and precious metals, among other items.

Flint stepped inside with ease, entirely unbothered by what looked like a hoarding situation. His head brushed against the feathers that cascaded from the ceiling, held up by lengths of twine. He removed the loafers he was wearing, leaving them next to the other neatly lined up pairs of shoes. Knox scrambled to do the same.

He was so thoroughly confused.

Because again, he had lived with Flint for nearly a year. The man was exceptionally clean, leaving his side of the room bare, keeping everything immaculately tidy any time he left the dorm. Most of the time, it hadn’t even looked like Knox had a roommate, no personal knickknacks on the desk or posters littering the walls. He always put his clothes in his hamper, folded them and put them away neatly whenever he did laundry. His toothbrush and other toiletries remained under the sink when not in use.

Knox was pretty sure he was being pranked as he passed the mounds of trinkets, in awe of the amount of stuff Flint was able to fit inside. Surely, the impeccably clean man he knew couldn’t be the owner of this penthouse, right?

And yet there was no trash laying around, no dust had settled atop any of the stuff in his sight. The carpeted floors were free of any crumbs or stains, and even the ceiling fan that twirled lazily above him, glossy beads tied to the blades, were clean and shiny as they spun around.

Everything was well taken care of, as if the owner cared deeply about every single piece in the room. Almost as if it were treasure.

Knox was certain he was standing in the middle of a dragon’s hoard.

He reached out to touch a miniature carousel sat on a table beside him, a little thing painted in white and baby blue, with cream-colored horses and a crank-up lever. It must have been a music box. Beside it was a shiny silver goblet with intricate detailing, clean and polished, no scratches in the metal. And next to that was a small bronze statue, of a vaguely feminine figure clad in wet drapery, the expression on its face twisted into a grotesque scream that looked a little too real to be anything but unsettling. He went on like that for a minute or two, brushing his fingertips along the numerous pieces, completely enamored by the valuable art that he was surrounded by.

Finally, someone cleared their throat, and he remembered he wasn’t by himself.

He turned to look at his friend- the dragon shifter apparently, a mind boggling thought in and of itself- who was regarding him with a carefully guarded expression. “I’m going to make some food.”

It wasn’t a question of if he wanted anything, apparently just under the assumption that he would. Knox decided to sit down on an incredibly comfortable looking deep green couch rather than continuing to get his fingerprints all over Flint’s stuff. He took his backpack off, letting it sit on the ground beside him before curling up, socked feet digging into the soft cushions. He again got the vague feeling of being a feral cat that Flint had found in a dumpster trying to eat garbage.

Knox wondered when he would stop feeling like a pity project.

He occupied himself by continuing to take in the room, convinced that he could spend years in this space alone and still not know everything that was in it. He could hear Flint moving around the kitchen, the sound of the fridge opening and closing, plates being sat down on the counter, a microwave beeping. It wasn’t long until Flint was handing him a plate of rice and sauteed vegetables drizzled in some sort of sauce, followed by a can of his favorite soda. “Thanks.”

Flint said on the other side of the couch, digging into his food without a word. Knox would have waited for him to say something first, but from his knowledge (which was very little, apparently), he wasn’t going to.

“So, uh…” He pushed his food around, “wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

He gestured vaguely at their surroundings, “Your hoard.”

Flint went rigid.

“Or not your hoard,” He said, afraid that he’d offended him, “Den, maybe? I’m not sure if I’m using the correct terms here, you know?”

“Knox, what do you think that I am?”

“Well, I was thinking that you’re a dragon, but if you could just let me know so I can stop guessing, that’d be really cool.”

He looked over at Flint, hoping that he conveyed that he was tired of having runaround conversations with him correctly. Apparently he had because Flint let out a long-suffering sigh.

“You’re not wrong,” He finally said, gaze carefully averted to a hand painted Russian doll sitting some feet away, “I am a dragon and this is my hoard, but I’m more curious to know how long you’ve known I’m not human.”

“I had my suspicions when we met, but I think I really knew when you seemed offended when I thought about adopting that gecko when we dormed together.”

Flint frowned at the memory, “I can hear their thoughts.”

“For real?”

“Yes. It’s not anything complex, mostly smaller lizards think about eating insects and getting as close to the heat lamp as possible, but it still feels wrong.”

“Kinda like how in Mickey Mouse Goofy and Pluto are dogs, but Pluto is a pet and Goofy isn’t?”

Flint seemed to think over the comparison for a moment, “That seems pretty accurate, actually. I never really thought about it like that.”

Knox felt very wise. “Thank you for letting me see your hoard, it’s really nice.”

“Uh, thanks. This is nothing compared to older dragons, and eventually I’ll have to move everything into a proper cave,” His cheeks are pink, something that Knox didn’t comment on, but he’s glad that Flint was flattered by the compliment. “I imagine you have a reason though, to finally reveal that you know I’m not human.”

“Yeah,” He confirmed, frowning a little as he pushed the food around on his plate. “I wanted you to feel comfortable enough to share your supernatural side to me if you wanted, but I’m kind of in a predicament right now and I don’t have a lot of options for advice.”

Flint nodded, looking at him then, giving his full attention, “I meant it when I said you could come for me about anything, Knox.”

“I really appreciate that.” Knox’s heart squeezed painfully despite his smile; it did feel nice to have someone to rely on. He could go to his parents for help if it really needed, but not without added grief that he didn’t feel like dealing with. “I’ve been having these run-ins with some vampires and I’m not really sure what to make of it. They don’t… they don’t seem like they’re malicious or anything, in fact they’ve been nothing but nice to me, but I don’t really understand it.”

“I thought I had smelled vampire on you.”

“Dragons have advanced senses of smell? What do they smell like to you?” He asked, immediately curious. A lot of supernatural creatures had senses far more advanced than humans depending on the species. Did dragons also have better eyesight? He figured they probably did.

“It’s not something I can really explain, and it doesn’t matter anyway. Why do you think they don’t have ill intentions?”

Knox deflated, “I helped their nestling, August, one night, and since then I’ve been seeing a lot of them? They’ve bought me groceries and stuff, but then on Friday I was walking home from class and I ran into August. He accidentally hurt me, so I spent the weekend at their nest and they took care of me. One of them dropped me off at the café today.”

“That’s uncharacteristic behavior for vampires. Beyond feeding, which a lot of them don’t even engage in now that blood bags are widely available. They haven’t fed from you, have they?”

“No,” He confirmed, “I thought that’s what they wanted at first, but they haven’t really…shown a lot of interest in that? Other than jokingly mentioning it.”

“Maybe they felt indebted to you over helping their nestling? Vampire nests are fiercely protective of their nestlings, the fact that you even found one in need of help is rare as it is.”

“I don’t know, but it took me a while to convince them to let me leave. I’m worried they might want to keep me or something.” Knox didn’t want to flatter himself, but he couldn’t think of any other reason why Valentine seemed so reluctant to let him go.

Flint frowned at that, “Do you want to stay here for a while? They know where you live, right?”

As nice as that sounded, they also knew where he worked. It would be pointless because they wanted to find him, they could. “No, that’s okay. I don’t think they’re dangerous or anything, I just wanted to talk to someone about it.”

“Well, if for some reason they do kidnap you, we should have a system so you can contact me.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Knox finally made it home after spending a couple of more hours at Flint’s and as tiny and as shitty as his little apartment was, he had missed it. Had missed the peeling paint covered with cheap posters, his couch he’d found sitting on the side of the road for free, the little frog in a wizard hat statue he’d gotten at a Goodwill he’d gotten for two dollars. He hadn’t been gone for more than a few days, but he’d gotten used to the solitude of his apartment, used to being by himself when he wasn’t at school or work. The vampires had been nice, of course, if not a little overbearing, but he was genuinely happy to be alone.

Even his lumpy mattress was more comfortable than ever when he’d laid down for the night.

His happiness was short lived though, when he thought of the money he’d missed out on this weekend, and the classes he’d missed on Monday and Tuesday. He didn’t know how he was going to make up the income, maybe he could do some odd jobs? He was really counting on his check next week for his rent, and now that it was going to be short by a couple hundred bucks. Maybe he could ask his landlady for an extension, though it was doubtful. She wasn’t exactly known for her generosity.

At least his classes would be easier to deal with. Valentine had indeed gotten ahold of his university, and his professors had emailed him typed of notes of the lectures. A few extra hours of studying and he’d be caught up again.

He eventually fell asleep, though fitfully, worry about money looming over his head.