Arion's gaze lifted from Boreas to Dean, softened at the edges, but the amusement didn't leave. It just… settled into something quieter. Warmer. Like he was pleased Dean had finally stopped trying to be palatable.
"You're asking like it would be a performance," Arion said.
Dean's mouth twitched. "I'm asking because you said it like you had a plan." He dragged his fingers through Boreas's fur, grounding himself in something solid and ridiculously soft. "And I decided not to mask my real personality from now on."
Relief flickered in Arion's expression so subtly Dean almost missed it.
"Good," Arion said, simply.
Dean narrowed his eyes. "Stop saying it like you're rewarding a puppy."
Boreas huffed, offended on someone's behalf, and shoved his head harder into Dean's hand.
Arion's mouth curved. "You're the one petting him."
Dean flipped him off without moving his hand.
