Xavior

Guests arrived in a steady stream, and everyone I’d known in the last fifty to a hundred years that could make it were wandering around my property meeting each other. That is, everyone but my family.

Birthdays with my family were somewhat of a quarter-century affair. For someone's twenty-fifth anniversary, we’d come together at the manor property in Spain and celebrate. As I was only turning three hundred-seventy-four this year, I was spared the intimate yet boring family celebration that would usher in an aging cycle.

I wasn’t looking forward to next year at all. With dragon aging cycles came the biological drive to find a mate. I’d managed to avoid having to deal with them by not being around or involved with anyone for extended periods of time.

At this point, I was reasonably sure that having done this similar dance for the last three hundred years or so, I would likely reach my half-millennium mark without becoming attached to anyone. At that point, it wouldn’t matter. I liked my independence, and while I cared about people, I hadn’t found anyone I was in love with enough to want to be mated to them.

I came down the winding steps from the top floor where my bedroom and personal suite was to the ground floor where guests were mingling and eating hors d'oeuvres. The first half of the party was mostly safe for those in my crowd that preferred to be seen at my party but not stay for the second half. Dignitaries, CEOs, lobbyists, politicians, and philanthropists would gather, then either disappear back to their homes and hotels or stay for the after-party and indulge in more clothing-optional activities.

I grabbed a cocktail and started to mingle with people, shaking hands, generally being the gracious host and birthday guy. While I never asked for presents, there were always those that thought they needed to bring something. I rarely kept anything, and most of the time, I auctioned the items off then donated the proceeds to charities. Others who knew me better were smart enough to contribute to one of my preferred charities instead.

I moved from the general mingling area to the gallery, where a soft string quartet played as people admired the art. It didn’t surprise me to see Jordan. Fae were always attracted to things they found beautiful. Jordan was particularly drawn to color and lines.

I walked up to him and whispered over his shoulder as he admired a newer contemporary piece that took up half of the wall. “You’re looking rather ravishing tonight, Jordan.”

He froze, then spun on his heel. His arms came around me and pulled me into a tight hug. “Fuck you, gorgeous, how have you been?” He was dressed in the latest runway fashion. His ice-blue eyes took me in as I took him in. He wore a white cloak over a soft yellow shirt and a pinstripe vest with pants to match. His shoes were the same color as the cloak. His soft brown hair was plaited down his back, and the signature fae ears were covered by a derby hat the same color as his shirt.

“I’ve been fairly good. I transferred departments, so I’ve been busy,” I said.

“You’re still working as a public servant?” Jordan’s voice conveyed his astonishment.

“Well, I’m not doing it for the money, Jordan, you know that. It was the easiest way to handle my dragon nature.” I shrugged and took a sip of my drink.

“Ah, the mystery. Are you finding plenty of mysteries then?”

“You have no idea.” He laughed as I’d hoped, but it was the truth as well. Learning a new department was reasonably easy, but Greg was a mystery all unto himself, and that was before you added in the curse he carried.

At the thought of him, I realized that he should be here by now. I had mixed feelings about inviting Keith, but I buried those hoping to give Greg and Keith a night of luxury they could enjoy. Whatever their relationship was, Greg was right; it was none of my business. As his work partner, I was determined to be more supportive and not let our mutual attraction and relationships come between us and our work.

I gave Jordan another hug and left him to admire the art with a promise that I would find him later if he was staying for the after-party. He indicated he wouldn’t miss it for anything. I smiled at that. Jordan wasn’t with anyone tonight, and I could definitely get behind or in front of spending a few hours with him in my bed later.

As I finished my drink and handed it off to a staff member, I went to the multi-purpose room I had set up with another live band that played any number of dance styles. That’s when I spotted them. To my small shock, Keith and Greg were managing to hold their own on the dance floor. I wasn’t even sure what was playing at the moment. Greg executed a couple of twirls from my vantage point, and Keith was smiling. They continued to dance and circle the floor with all of the other dancers. I held my place and watched.

When they reached the area I was standing, Keith noticed me first and pulled Greg off the dance floor. I hadn’t expected that. I was happy to watch the dancing. The other thing I hadn’t expected was Greg to look so fucking breath-taking in the suit I’d picked out for him. I knew Keith would look pretty good. His build was similar to mine even though I was a little taller.

“Xavior!” Keith said as he came toward me. Greg held to Keith’s hand, but his eyes were on me. As he got closer, I got a dose of his scent with attraction and desire weaved into it. It hit me like I’d had five shots of something expensive and smooth. Keith said something, but I wasn’t paying attention. My eyes were on Greg. Greg grinned, then winked. I couldn’t keep the surprise of it off my face.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I returned my attention back to Keith, who was chattering on about something.

“The party is spectacular! We’ve met a dozen stars already, and the band is totally killer. And the clothes, holy shit, thank you so much, Xavior. I can’t, we can’t thank you enough for inviting us,” Keith said.

“No problem. I wouldn’t have it any other way. What’s the point of having a party if you can’t invite your friends?” I smiled between Keith and Greg.

“Is Vanessa going to be here tonight?” Keith asked.

“Probably at some point, I imagine so,” I said. Keith nodded. Greg took that moment to pull something out of his pocket.

“We got something for you, or I made it rather. Nothing expensive or anything, but we’d thought you’d might like something practical,” Greg said as he handed over a long, slender pouch to me.

“Thank you. That’s thoughtful,” I said, and I meant it. Regardless of how I’d felt about anyone else bringing me a present, the fact that Greg had made me something made my stomach do little flips I hadn’t expected. I opened the little pouch, and a small piece of redwood slipped into my hand, weighted by metal on either end.

It looked like a mini shepherd’s hook. However, the hook part was a small, stylized flame carved and plated with the same silver as the bottom. I held it for a moment to figure out what it was precisely, and then I looked up with a smile. “It’s a bookmark.”

“He got it! First try. You said he wouldn’t,” Keith said.

“I was wrong,” Greg said while he was looking at me. That statement was so heavy I wasn’t sure what to say exactly, so I forged ahead, admiring Greg's artistry.

“It’s excellent work.” I turned over the bookmark in my hand. It was clear Greg had spent time with it as the silver was polished and the wood shined with oil.

“I do some woodworking in my off time. Small pieces, nothing fancy,” Greg said. I watched as Keith grabbed them both drinks off of a tray. The server stopped next to me and offered me one, and I waved them off.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you. Both of you.”

Keith nodded and smiled up at Greg. I noticed that they were holding hands again. “Happy Birthday, Xavior!” Keith held up his glass, and I nodded again. Greg echoed Keith’s sentiment.

“I’m going to put this in my library, and I’ll catch up with you two later, okay?” They both nodded and set down their drinks before they went back to the dance floor. I wandered away, practically on autopilot, saying hello, and receiving well wishes until I reached my library. Inside, it was quiet and dark. There was one lit lamp next to my favorite reading chair. I sat down and admired the bookmark again.

The emotions that welled up in me were threatening to have me in tears. No one, save my family, had ever given me something so significant and sentimental. I knew exactly what it meant.

It was from a story I’d told Greg one day about walking with a shepherd for a long stretch of road. When he found out I was a dragon, he was so surprised, he offered to share dinner with me and exchange stories. His wife was understanding, and I’d enjoyed their company and the meal they provided. It was the first human interaction I’d had where I’d told someone what I was, and they weren’t scared of me. It was toward the end of the Renaissance Period, and it seemed like so many were more educated and understanding than ever before.

I got the subtle hint the object was meant to give me. Greg wasn’t scared of me. It hadn’t clicked with me how much I wondered if his fear of hurting me came from a place of fear in general. I wiped at my eyes and laughed. It seemed Greg and I were destined to one-up each other. I was alright with that prospect. At least I knew things would always be interesting as long as Greg was around. I placed the bookmark back in the pouch and put it on the table next to my chair.

I headed back out to the party with a lighter step and a smile on my face.