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Cedric & Gideon are two dragon shifters locked in an epic battle of hook-up chicken. They both know they must search for their true fated mates, but somehow can't help returning to each other's arms (and beds). Then they meet Alex, a human barista who knows nothing of the world of shifters, who turns them both upside down.
Balance the Scales is a polyamorous, fated mates, dragon shifter story. The first chapter is here, and new chapters post on fridays! Teaser after the cut.
ao3 style tags: #eventual smut #medium burn #Porn with feelings #NSFW, #fated mates, #dragons, #lovers to idiots to dragons to lovers once again, #threesome, #polyamory, #anal sex, #blowjobs, #awkward first times, #coffeeshop meet-weird #aggressive use of kitchen tongs #marking #no ABO dynamic #non ABO shifters #original fiction #unprotected Sex #ot3
It happened like clockwork. Like my libido was on a fucking timer. When had I become so predictable? The snap of my briefcase rang out in my empty office, a satisfying thunk that felt like closing a chapter. Every time, I told myself it would be the last time.
And then, the ache in my gut would start. It would grow unbearable, and Iâd find myself here. Sitting in my office after dark, long after Iâd sent everyone home. Staring at my phone. Typing and deleting a dozen texts, all variations on a theme:
I used the abbreviation for âyouâ mostly to annoy Gideon. I texted instead of calling mostly to annoy Gideon. I did a lot of things to annoy Gideon.
Annoying him was safer, safer than letting myself really want him. Because, if I was going to be a slave to my urges, I wasnât going to be miserable alone. I would dig my fingers into the lingering bruise of our semi-regular hookups so Gideon was just as full of self-loathing as I was.
I was pretty sure Gideon hated me.
I was pretty sure I needed Gideon to hate me, because the alternative was even more painful, because hate was at least something, something deep, fiery and primal.
And, we dragon shifters were nothing if not deep, fiery and primal.
The place between my shoulder blades itched, my human skin wearing thin and tight like an ill-fitting suit. I unbuttoned the collar of my shirt, as if that would help. The urge to shift always rose with my desire to see Gideon. At his place, I could wear the skin of my ancient fauna. I could stretch my wings, the bones in my jaw and skull expanding to accommodate fangs and horns and the armored plates that rand down my vertebrae. Gideon would shift, too. And in our dragon forms, weâd fight. Then weâd shift back, and weâd fuck. The sparring was foreplay, brutal and animalistic. One of these times, I always thought, Gideon and I really might kill each other.
It was the same every time, a constant, but goddamn it if it every time wasnât the highlight of my life.
Gideon and I had met at a farmersâ market six years ago. A real bougie meet-cute right out of a gay hallmark movie. The small-town farmer and the big city executive. Iâd been passing through town on the way to visit my parents, and I stopped to get a pressed juice and a pastry, and some flowers for my mother. And there was Gideon, standing at his little farm stand, haloed in an explosion of color, dozens of flower arrangements and elegant bouquets. He was huge and rugged. Scowling. Beautiful. Putting all the flowers to shame.
I approached with caution, because I could tell he saw me immediately for what I was, just as I recognized him. I looked into his icy blue eyes and saw the beast beneath.
For a several moments, weâd just stared at each other.
I bought some flowers. He gave me his card.
It took me three weeks to work up the courage to call him.
We met for a drink, despite the fact that we both knew weâd never work. It was just my luckâthe only other ancient shifter in a hundred miles, and he wasnât mine.
That was the thing with ancients. Our power came with a lot of rules, many of which didnât have much bearing on modern life, except the first, and the biggest. Each shifter born with an ancient fauna only had one mate. A true mate.
It was something you just knew, deep in your bones, deep in your soul, when you saw them. It was an instant, undeniable attraction. Fate. Destiny. Blah blah blah. My parents couldâand often didâwax endlessly poetic about the day theyâd met. Their story was sweet enough to turn anyone into an instant diabetic
As hot and infuriating and toe-curling in the sack as Gideon was, he wasnât mine. He wasnât my destiny. Iâd mostly given up on finding my true mate, and I imagined Gideon probably felt the same. We could never have that kind of soul-deep pair bond between us that would allow us to be truly complete. Truly settled. Whole.
But we could absolutely get together from time to time and fuck each otherâs brains out. It took the edge off being so goddamn lonely. Kinda. With a resigned sigh, I looked down at the screen of my phone, brushing my thumb over it, like maybe I could feel my way to a better solution.
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