Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jason Blood sets down the grimoire he had been studying with a frustrated sigh. He turns in his seat, eyes landing on the large dark mound curled up next to the fireplace. 

The form is covered in sleek iridescent scales that shimmer shifting hues of violet and green against the dancing fire light.

A dragon.

Bruce had been turned into a dragon.

A few days ago they were chasing down a follower of Morgaine le Fey. The sorcerer had managed to cast the transformation spell before making a hasty escape.

Jason still hasn’t found a way to reverse it.

He had reached out to Zatanna, even going so far as to request assistance from John Constantine of all individuals.

Neither one had fared any better with their attempts. Both had promised to contact him if they came across anything that could be of use. But for now, all he can do is hope the spell wears out on its own.

The great dane sized lizard stirs in his spot as if sensing the watchful gaze. He lifts his head revealing vibrant blue eyes, and slitted pupils. He observes Jason’s form still rooted at the desk.

He lets out an inquisitive chirp tilting his head towards the various parchments and books scattered across the surface.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Jason starts shaking his head remorsefully. “No such luck.”

Bruce lets out a small agitated huff before lifting himself to stand on all four feet. He stretches out his back while swishing a long lanky tail.

Quite like a feline. Jason can’t help but notice.

When the dragon makes his way over hooked fangs latch around a tailored sleeve. He tugs gently at first, but becomes more persistent when Jason doesn’t immediately get up.

“Alright. Alright. You’ve made your point.  Just please don’t tear the mohair.” He chuckles allowing himself to be led away by the disgruntled lizard.

Bruce had definitely noticed Jason’s lack of sleep over the last few days. Always making agitated clicks and huffs when he refused to lie down.

Hypocrite. Jason musses internally.

Of which Etrigan agrees.

He doesn’t dare voice this out loud though. 

He wouldn’t put it past his feisty lover to scorch him with newfound flames if he were to point it out.

Bruce only releases the sleeve once they’ve successfully reached the master bedroom. The dragon stomping one foot and gesturing with his head towards the bed.

“Quite the impatient creature aren’t you?”

His only response is a huff and an eye roll.

Jason shucks off his jacket, tossing it overtop the dragon’s head. Bruce immediately shakes off the offending fabric casting the demonologist a heated glare.

He then hops onto the bed while waiting patiently for Jason to change into more comfortable clothing. Once he does, he taps his tail at a spot near his outstretched belly.

Jason lets out an amused sound muttering about impatience again, of which Bruce chooses to ignore.

Once Jason is lying against him he cocoons himself around the other acting like a makeshift body pillow.

Jason simply lies there for a moment. Appreciating the warmth radiating from dragon skin against his own. He eventually falls asleep to the sound of a steady reverberating heart.

…

At some point during the night a blue light simmers and cracks.

The dragon is gone, and in its place is the sprawling form of a man.