Chapter Text
It had been a week since the man had appeared in the dragon’s place.
Seven nights of bandaging wounds, fussing over meals, and trying not to combust every time those golden flecked eyes turned on him. Seven mornings of waking in the hay or at the hearth, Seonghwa (that was the name he finally gave, in a voice rough and low) was always watching, silent and sharp as though measuring something Hongjoong couldn’t see.
But for all of Seonghwa’s presence, one absence weighed heavier still, which was the dragons.
Hongjoong found himself staring at the hay corner more than once, waiting for obsidian scales to shimmer in the light, for molten eyes to blink open. Each time he found only Seonghwa stretched out there instead, his breathing slow, his body too human and far too fragile to fill the emptiness.
He missed him , his furnace, his fisherman, his silent guardian. He missed the huff laughs and the way warmth rolled off scales when the fire died. And the ache in his chest only deepened when he caught himself thinking, but aren’t you the same?
Which was ridiculous. Dragons didn’t just become men. That was fairytale nonsense.
Hongjoong sighed, lugging the day’s collection of berries and firewood onto the table. “You know, this would be a lot easier if my dragon hadn’t abandoned me. He at least knew how to fish.”
Behind him, Seonghwa shifted in the hay with a low huff that sounded suspiciously amused.
Hongjoong turned just in time to see him stand, moving with more strength than a man with a broken ankle should. He padded to the shelf without hesitation, pulling down a clean mug from behind the jumble of old jars. Then, with maddening precision, he rooted through a chest at the foot of the bed and came up with folded tunics and a belt that Hongjoong swore hadn’t been there before.
Hongjoong froze mid step. “Wait. How did you… know that was there?”
Seonghwa didn’t answer, just tilted his head faintly, lips curving as if the question itself amused him.
Hongjoong’s jaw dropped. “Oh, come on. First you know where the spare clothes are hiding, now you magically know where the mugs are? Do you live here or something?”
Seonghwa’s only response was another faint huff of air through his nose as he draped the tunic over the chair like it belonged there.
Hongjoong groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Unbelievable. First my dragon abandons me, now this mysterious forest model moves in and acts like he owns the place. At this rate, I’ll be relegated to the moss pile again.”
When he peeked through his fingers, Seonghwa was watching him with that same sharp, unreadable gaze. But there was something softer there too something that made Hongjoong’s chest ache with an answer he didn’t dare admit.
The fire crackled low that night, shadows stretching long across the cottage walls. Hongjoong sat hunched at the table, sketchbook open but untouched, his charcoal rolling uselessly between his fingers.
Seonghwa sat nearby, stretched on the hay as if the space had always been his. He was stronger now, moving with more ease each day, though his ankle still bore bandages. His sharp gaze followed the flames.
The silence pressed too heavily against Hongjoong’s chest and finally, he slammed the charcoal down and blurted, “I miss him.”
Seonghwa’s head turned, slow and deliberately.
Hongjoong swallowed hard the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “The dragon. My dragon. I know I sound insane, but he was, he was everything. He kept me warm, he made me laugh without saying a word, he let me feel like I wasn’t just some useless joke. And now he’s gone. Just… gone.”
His voice cracked, and he laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m pathetic. Mourning a creature that would’ve killed me if I’d met him anywhere else.”
Seonghwa’s golden flecked eyes lingered on him for a long, unreadable moment. Then he let out a sound low in his chest a rumble, almost too deep for a human throat, vibrating faintly through the floorboards.
Hongjoong froze and his breath hitched. That sound. That exact sound.
He blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “No. No, no, no. Don’t do that. Don’t sound like him. That’s” He jabbed a finger toward Seonghwa, his voice pitching higher. “That’s cruel! You don’t just… you don’t just steal his noises like that!”
Seonghwa tilted his head slightly, lips curving faintly at the edges. The smallest curl of smoke drifted past his mouth as he exhaled.
Hongjoong shot to his feet, knocking over the stool. “Smoke? Actual smoke ? Are you kidding me?!” He dragged his hands down his face, muffled groans slipping between his fingers. “First you know where everything is in this house, now you’re rumbling and exhaling smoke . What’s next, sprouting wings?!”
Seonghwa said nothing, only watched him with that soft, infuriating amusement the same look Hongjoong had come to recognize from huff-laughs and glowing eyes.
Hongjoong sank back into the stool, defeated, muttering under his breath. “I swear, I’m losing it. You’re not him. You can’t be him. But gods help me, you remind me of him so much it hurts.”
Seonghwa shifted closer, his hand brushing the edge of Hongjoong’s sketchbook, and rumbled again softer this time, almost like comfort.
Hongjoong’s chest twisted painfully, torn between grief and something he didn’t dare name.
It began with the crunch of boots.
Hongjoong froze mid ramble his head snapping towards the window. The faint glow of firelight flickered outside between the trees.
Seonghwa had already straightened on the hay, his golden-flecked eyes narrowing. His body coiled, every line of him suddenly alert and predatory, though his ankle dragged faintly against the floor as he moved.
“No…” Hongjoong whispered, his chest seizing. He rushed to the door, peering through the gap in the shutters. Shadows moved between the pines and figures, torches held high, steel glinting in their fists.
It was the villagers, but more importantly his father’s warriors.
“Oh gods.” His voice cracked, panicked. “They’ve found me. They’ve found us .”
Seonghwa’s lips pressed into a hard line, his gaze flashing sharp and dangerous. For a heartbeat, Hongjoong thought he saw something too wild in his eyes, too inhuman, as though the man was only a thin layer stretched over something vast.
The torches drew closer, the crunch of boots louder, voices carrying through the night.
“Spread out!” one barked. “Check every clearing. The chief wants proof.”
Hongjoong stumbled back from the window, heart hammering. “They’re going to kill you. They’ll” His voice broke, and he shoved trembling hands into his hair. “I can’t let them. I won’t .”
Seonghwa rose despite the limp in his step. He moved toward Hongjoong with that same terrifying calm he always had, the kind of calm that felt like standing at the edge of a storm.
Hongjoong’s back hit the table, his breath coming fast. “You can’t fight them. You’re still hurt. You’ll”
A shadow passed over the window, torchlight flashing across the walls of the cottage and Hongjoong’s pulse roared in his ears.
Seonghwa reached out, gripping Hongjoong’s wrist not gently, not cruelly, but firmly, grounding him. His voice was low but steady. “Trust me.”
The fire popped violently in the hearth, sparks scattering everywhere.
Outside the crunch of boots stopped just beyond the door and a fist hammered against the wood.
“In the name of the chief,” a voice roared, “open up!”
Hongjoong’s breath caught and his heart screamed one word over and over.
The door exploded inward with a deafening crack, shards of wood scattering across the floor.
Torches flared, steel flashed and voices thundered as men surged inside. Hongjoong barely had time to scramble back from the table before rough hands seized his arms.
“There!” one of them barked. “The chief’s boy!”
“Wait!” Hongjoong cried thrashing, his satchel spilling across the floor. Bandages and herbs scattered uselessly under boots as they dragged him toward the door. His feet slipped on the boards, his voice cracking. “Stop! Let go of me!”
In the chaos, Seonghwa moved, he rose from the hay with a grace too sharp for someone so wounded, his body cutting a dark silhouette in the torchlight. When the villagers dragged Hongjoong past the threshold, Seonghwa stepped into the doorway.
And then he stopped, his shoulders braced against the frame, his hands curling tight at either side, as if holding himself back by sheer force. The firelight caught his face, throwing his features into sharp relief but it was his eyes that froze the air.
They were glowing and obviously not human. They were gold burning molten in the shadows.
The men faltered, shouts stuttering into silence. One of them swore under his breath and his grip on Hongjoong tightening nervously.
Hongjoong’s heart lurched into his throat. “Seonghwa, don’t!” he gasped, struggling harder against the hands restraining him. “They’ll kill you”
Seonghwa didn’t move forward, he only stood there, framed in the doorway, golden eyes blazing like fire through smoke. His chest rose and fell sharply, each breath edged with something dangerous.
The villagers hesitated, caught between fear and duty. One of them shoved Hongjoong roughly, dragging him further into the torchlight. “Ignore him! He’s nothing but a crippled stranger. The chief wants the boy.”
Hongjoong twisted desperately, his eyes locking on Seonghwa’s in the doorway. For a heartbeat, everything else fell away the torches, the shouts, the cold bite of hands digging into his arms.
There was only Seonghwa. His glowing eyes and the terrible, fragile line between restraint and ruin.
One moment Seonghwa stood framed in the doorway his golden eyes blazing, human and fragile-looking.
The next he launched himself forward with a force that rattled the frame, muscles coiling as his body twisted mid air. The torchlight caught on his skin then scales, black as obsidian, rippling over him like liquid night. Wings tore outward with a crack that shook the ground. His growl deepened into a roar so vast it split the sky.
He hit the earth as a dragon and the impact sent the front line of villagers flying, torches scattering into the mud. Screams tore through the clearing.
“Gods!” one choked, scrambling to his feet. “Dragon!”
Seonghwa’s jaws snapped shut around another’s shield, crushing it like brittle bark, tossing man and steel aside in a single brutal motion. His tail whipped through the air, slamming two more into the trees with bone crunching force. Blood sprayed the undergrowth, glistening in the firelight.
Hongjoong stumbled back in the chaos, nearly tripping over himself, eyes wide in horror and awe. His heart thundered in his chest as his mind reeled. It’s him. It’s always been him.
A warrior lunged with a spear, jabbing upward at Seonghwa’s chest. The dragon reared back, fire building in his throat, a glow rising like molten sunrise. When he exhaled, the world became flame.
The man’s scream was cut short, lost in a spray of burning light. The fire swallowed torches, weapons and flesh leaving only ash and the stench of charred iron.
Seonghwa’s claws raked through another, tearing him open with sickening ease. The earth drank blood. The rest tried to flee, shouts cracking into terror, but Seonghwa moved faster, wings snapping wide to block their path.
He was fury and he was ruin. He was everything Hongjoong had both feared and loved in the shadow of the scales.
One villager managed to stagger close to Hongjoong, grabbing his arm in desperation. “Help me! Gods, help me !”
Before Hongjoong could even react, Seonghwa struck his head whipping low, teeth flashing. The man’s body crumpled in two halves, blood splattering across Hongjoong’s boots.
Hongjoong gasped, stumbling back, his stomach twisting. His pulse screamed at him to run, yet his chest ached, eyes locked on Seonghwa’s blazing form.
The dragon turned, chest heaving, golden eyes alight in the ruin and for one terrible, beautiful moment, those eyes softened as they found him.
Hongjoong trembled, torn between terror and a dizzy, shattering relief.
“It’s you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “It’s always been you.”
The clearing fell silent but for the crackle of dying torches and the hiss of blood soaking into earth. Bodies lay scattered, steel twisted and the air thick with smoke and ash.
Hongjoong stood frozen, his chest was heaving, mud and blood spattered across his clothes. His ears rang from the roar still echoing through the trees with his heart refusing to slow.
The ground shook as Seonghwa turned toward him both towering and terrible his scales slick with gore, golden eyes blazing. Hongjoong’s breath caught as he braced hijmself, expecting the same fury that had torn men in half only moments ago.
Instead, the dragon lunged forward in a bound.
Hongjoong shrieked, flailing backwards, arms windmilling. “Wait, don’t eat me!”
But Seonghwa didn’t bare his teeth, he skidded to a stop in the mud, lowering his massive head and nudging Hongjoong’s chest with his snout, a rumbling whine vibrating through the ground.
Hongjoong blinked, stunned, as the dragon shoved at him again, more insistent, like a frantic dog pawing at its owner. He stumbled back a step, hands flying up. “Wh, Seonghwa, what?!”
The dragon whuffed hot air over him, blowing his hair straight up. Then, with surprising gentleness, he pressed his nose against Hongjoong’s side, sniffing and nudging as if to check every inch of him. His molten eyes narrowed at the smear of blood on Hongjoong’s sleeve, and he let out a low, distressed growl.
Hongjoong yelped as the dragon’s tongue swiped over his arm in one big, wet lick. “Oh gods, Seonghwa!” he sputtered, wiping furiously at his face as the dragon nudged him again, almost knocking him flat. “That’s disgusting! I’m fine! I’m, stop it, I said I’m fine!”
The great head tilted, golden eyes glimmering with doubt, and the rumbling whine came again.
Hongjoong’s chest tightened, his protest softening. He pressed a trembling hand against the warm scales, his voice breaking. “…you were worried.”
The dragon huffed, puffing warm air over him again, before lowering his head fully into the mud at Hongjoong’s feet, as if begging for reassurance.
Hongjoong’s lips trembled into a shaky laugh. “You just ripped ten people in half, and now you’re acting like a guilty puppy. What am I supposed to do with you?”
His hand slid along the curve of Seonghwa’s jaw, gentle despite the blood still dripping from his teeth. “I told you not to get hurt for me.”
The dragon exhaled his eyes half-lidding as he leaned into Hongjoong’s touch.
The silence was so heavy it pressed into Hongjoong’s ears. He stood trembling, pressed against the warmth of the dragon’s scales, his hand still resting on the curve of Seonghwa’s jaw.
Seonghwa shifted, lowering his massive body to the ground, wings folding in tight arcs. With surprising gentleness for something so vast and terrible, he curled his long frame around Hongjoong, enclosing him in a cocoon of warmth and shadow. The golden glow of his eyes softened, no longer blazing with fury but watching Hongjoong with something steady and protective.
For the first time, Hongjoong let himself lean into him. His knees buckled, and he sat down in the mud, pressing both hands against the scales, shuddering with laughter that was almost a sob. “You’re ridiculous,” he whispered, voice raw. “Terrifying. Beautiful. And ridiculous.”
The dragon’s chest rumbled and then the air shimmered.
Hongjoong blinked as the scales seemed to ripple like water, blackness giving way to pale skin, wings collapsing into nothing, vast jaws narrowing into human lines. The heat that had surrounded him shrank, pulled tight into a man’s framen and suddenly Seonghwa knelt before him in the mud, bare-shouldered and scarred, golden-flecked eyes meeting his own.
Hongjoong gasped, stumbling back on his hands. “You” His throat closed on the word. “I knew ,I knew it, I” His voice cracked. “Gods, I thought I was losing my mind.”
Seonghwa’s hand lifted catching Hongjoong’s wrist before he could pull too far. His voice was low, and absolute. “You were right.”
Hongjoong’s chest heaved, his heart thundering too fast. He didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or fling himself into Seonghwa’s arms.
But Seonghwa’s gaze cut through his storm. “We can’t stay,” he said, firm. “They’ll send more. Your father won’t stop until he has you back, or until he’s destroyed me.”
Hongjoong’s stomach lurched. He could still hear the villagers’ screams, still see the blood on the ground. “Destroyed you?” he echoed, his voice breaking. “You just,Seonghwa, you tore them apart like they were nothing.”
Seonghwa shook his head. “Not enough. Not forever.” He leaned closer, golden eyes catching the faintest glow of the fire. “I’ll take you somewhere safe. To my people. A village where shifters live free.”
Hongjoong stared at him, mud on his cheeks, his whole body trembling. His mind reeled at the words. A village. More like him. A world beyond everything he thought he knew.
“You’re insane,” Hongjoong whispered, though his voice cracked with something closer to awe. “Absolutely insane.”
Seonghwa’s lips curved faintly, the barest edge of a smile. “You’ll see.”