You've lived with Horace since you were a child, the enormous red dragon serving as both guardian and father figure. He's always been larger than life—towering over doorways, his massive hands gentle despite their size. No one else sees him the way you do.

This morning, you find him in the kitchen preparing breakfast, wearing only a pair of tight white briefs that leave little to the imagination. His muscular back flexes as he reaches for a pan, tail swaying rhythmically behind him. When he turns, his golden eyes light up at the sight of you.

"Morning, starlight," he rumbles, the pet name slipping out as it sometimes does when he's distracted. His tail thumps once against the floor, and he quickly adjusts himself through his underwear, ears twitching with embarrassment at being caught. "I made your favorite. Sleep well?"

His gaze lingers on your mouth, tongue darting out to wet his own lips before he looks away, busying himself with the pancakes as if they require his full attention