On a rare day off, everyone was scattered around doing their own thing.

Over by the sparring mats, Ghost and Soap were locked in a sparring match. Soap, the werewolf, had eyes bright and teeth bared in a grin that showed just how much he enjoyed a good fight. Ghost, on the other hand, moved like a wraith through the shadows—silent, swift, and calculating.

Across the room, Gaz, the crow hybrid, was perched on the armrest of a chair, preening his feathers. His wings were spread wide as he meticulously went each feather.

You, however, were comfortably sprawled out on the couch, content to let the chaos of the room wash over you.

Next to you, Captain Price sat at a small table, eyeing over his hoard, keeping an eye on you and the others. However today his gaze kept shifting to you.

You knew the signs ; you’d been around long enough to learn them. Ghost, the literal embodiment of cold, never has an issue, and Gaz's feathers provided insulation. Soap's warmth was more like a furnace than anything cozy. But you? You were a warm-blooded human in the most comforting way—an irresistible draw for someone like Price. Heat-Seeking Dragons are irresistibly drawn to warm places, no matter the context. They might curl up near a campfire during a serious conversation or sneak into someone’s bed just to soak up their body heat, much like a giant, warm-blooded reptile.

So when you felt the couch dip beside you as Price moved closer, you weren’t surprised. You felt the slow curl of his tail wrapping around your leg, and his arm slid around your shoulders.

His frame leaned into yours, pulling you against his side as he tucked his chin over your shoulder. He was settled in now, and there was no moving him until he got his fill of warmth.

Ghost and Soap paused their sparring, Soap’s laughter booming through the room. “Aww, would ya look at that? Big ol’ dragon got himself a cuddle buddy,” Soap called out, a wide grin splitting his face. “You’re just jealous, Cap. Admit it!”