Archive of Our Own

Hoseok was roused out of a light sleep—he’d been having trouble with that recently—to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. At first he thought that Jimin was turning in late, as he often did. But as the door closed and feet padded slowly closer, he noticed the faint sound of quiet sniffles and repressed sobs.

And then his heart cinched when he recognized who they belonged to.

Hoseok felt his bed dip as Namjoon eased himself down onto it, now trying harder to keep quiet in his presence. Hoseok’s entire body ached at hearing Namjoon’s anguish, wanting to turn over and hold him and ask him what was wrong so he could fix it. But he knew Namjoon, knew he’d run away at the first sign of Hoseok being awake.

And so Hoseok did his best to feign sleep, even as Namjoon rolled onto his bed, his covers being pulled tight as Namjoon lay on top of them. He rarely stayed. He simply crowded himself up against Hoseok’s back, shaking with sobs, allowing himself the lightest of touches to Hoseok’s frame. Hoseok felt his fingertips brush his side, dancing gently with the need for more but none of the courage. He had quietly accepted years ago that this was the best way to help Namjoon in such times—to passively allow him to take whatever comfort he allowed himself, and hope for the day he was ready to accept everything Hoseok had to reciprocate.

They were a family. They had to be to survive the debut process, and even more so once their fame and popularity grew. This necessity for teamwork and their close living quarters meant they gained an intimate knowledge around one another, knew how each individual acted when they were happy or sad or tired or keeping a secret. Knew how each gave and wanted to receive love.

Namjoon always gave as much love as the others, if not more so, but receiving it in return was clearly hard for him. He preferred talking out his problems and having philosophical discussions over hugs and cuddling, and at first no one questioned it—some people prefer non-physical forms of affection, and the other members assumed that was his nature.

But there were cracks in the façade that became harder to ignore the longer they knew each other, ones that Namjoon would become defensive about when asked. Everyone noticed the way his gaze would linger on Jimin and Taehyung when they cuddled, the way he would physically deflate when handfed as if releasing some stress even he didn’t know he was carrying, the way his whole face would brighten upon receiving a gift.

And then there was the frequency with which he sought out Hoseok.

It felt different from the regular bond between same-age friends. Namjoon confided in him about some deep feelings that way exceeded anything the other members had described getting from him. He was seemingly always in Hoseok’s studio, or asking Hoseok to come to his. He was always eager to get drinks with Hoseok, and even played with him in ways he typically didn’t with the others.

All the same, there were certain things Namjoon was cagey about. Sometimes he would begin to exhibit signs of being in pain, and would excuse himself to his parents’ place for days on end when it got bad—he claimed it was some mysterious chronic condition that they were helping him with, but that was all the other members were told. He also seemed less reluctant and more afraid to let the others get close, like he believed something bad would happen if he allowed himself to fully relax into their embrace. Hoseok tried not to let it hurt, how hot and cold Namjoon was with him in particular.

But the taut rope that Namjoon had wound himself into had to snap eventually. The only shock was how long he had managed to hold on before everything fell apart.

Namjoon had looked more and more awful whenever Hoseok saw him at the company, every day for the past week. He always arrived in a face mask, his eyes red and bruised with lack of sleep. He could tell that Namjoon was having another one of his episodes, but they were far too busy for him to stay in at his apartment, or visit his parents. He had promised the members and the staff that he was fit for their schedules, and Hoseok knew the drive to not let the fans down was what was powering him through.

But now he had gone from assuring everyone he was okay to remarking about how he couldn’t wait to get home. And when they traversed the hall from the meeting room to the dance studio, he kept bumping into Hoseok, glancing at him with pained eyes and Hoseok nearly broke.

Dance practice was largely uneventful, save for the fact that Namjoon was clearly not keeping up. He would apologize if the dance instructor singled him out for falling out of rhythm, but he didn’t ask for a break. Hoseok watched helplessly as Namjoon practiced the moves with wrinkles of pain in what was visible of his face. He only collapsed when the instructor called a break, curled up against the mirrors in a manner that was far beyond soreness and exhaustion.

While the rest of them drank from their water bottles, their dance instructor seemed to take pity on Namjoon, as he gently knelt beside him and muttered something in a hushed voice. Namjoon responded curtly, before he suddenly grabbed his chest and screwed his eyes shut. He stood and rushed toward the door in a panic.

“Sorry…I gotta go to the bathroom!” he said in a panicked voice as he left in a hurry, his gait somewhere between a jog and a quickened hobble.

The rest of the members waited for Namjoon to return, the tension in the air palpable. They had all had off days, but Namjoon’s chronic and worsening condition had them wondering if he should be in the hospital. Especially with the hurried way he had left appearing as if he was seconds away from throwing up.

After nearly half an hour had passed and Namjoon still hadn’t returned, the dance instructor announced he was going to go find him.

“No, I’ll do it,” Hoseok blurted out. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to challenge their teacher, but he had always felt a protectiveness, almost possessiveness around Namjoon. If anyone was going to make sure Namjoon was okay, it was going to be Hoseok. Anyone else simply wouldn’t do.

He strode out of the practice room with an authority that made the instructor give up chase. He traversed the halls to the nearest men’s room, a route that every member had committed to muscle memory by this point. But when he pushed open the door to the restroom, about to call out to Namjoon, it slammed shut with a force that knocked him backward. He stood there, shock and bewilderment filling his body, as an ominous sound of thumping and scraping echoed inside. A few scenarios ran through his head about what would cause such a thing, but nothing he could make sense of.

Steeling and holding his breath against his now racing heart, Hoseok tried the door again, only to find it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard he shoved against it. Panic coursed through him, and he found himself banging on the door and shouting for Namjoon. If there were any chance that Namjoon was in that bathroom, Hoseok worried he was in serious trouble.

But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was in a different restroom, or had gone home, or anything. He took his phone in his shaky hands and sent a text, asking Namjoon where he was. And his heart nearly stopped when a few seconds after he sent the text, a faint noise echoed from within the men’s room, which sounded suspiciously similar to Namjoon’s text notification.

Whatever was going on, Namjoon was in that bathroom, and Hoseok had to get to him. With a surge of determination, he charged the door and shoved against it. He managed to crack the door and slip through it before it shut again, and there was a flurry of movement in front of him. The lights went dark, and some loud pounding against the floor vibrated around him.

Hoseok stood on shaky legs, peering into the darkness. “Namjoon…?” He stepped hesitantly forward, past the sinks and into the alcove where he knew the toilets to be. He nearly slipped on something that he realized felt like fabric. He took out his phone and shined his flashlight around, and the first thing he spotted was what he had stepped on—it was Namjoon’s clothes that he had been wearing at practice, now ripped to pieces. Namjoon’s phone was also nearby.

“Namjoon-ah!” Hoseok’s breathing picked up, and he shined his phone’s light around the darkness. This was when he noticed that the familiar architecture of the bathroom was covered over by a huge form. And it was moving.

Hoseok dropped his phone and scrambled back against the wall, his heart hammering. It was starting to set in that he had just trapped himself inside a dark room with a monster, its movements unpredictable in the darkness. He couldn’t hear it, at least not over how own hammering heart and echoed breathing. He slowly, carefully, pushed his way back towards the door and felt around the walls until he found the light switch.

To his relief, the lights flickered on, indicating they hadn’t been destroyed. But now he found himself staring into the giant, winged, dark eyes of a creature so large it was folded around the perimeter of the room. Neither of them moved, and as Hoseok continued to gaze into the beastly face, he was overcome with a strong sense of familiarity. The hooded eyes, the flat nose, the bulge of muscles beneath onyx scales, and the mane that looked suspiciously like a certain head of hair that he knew.

“Namjoon…?” Hoseok’s shaky whisper echoed loud against the concrete walls, and the creature lowered its ears in shame as it tried in vain to cower in the corner.

A shifter. He was face-to-face with a shifter, and a dragon one at that. And it was Namjoon.

Hoseok felt his body go physically numb from the shock, a thousand questions swirling in the air around them. But he couldn’t think about any of them right now—the only thing he could focus on was that this creature was Namjoon, and that this was a problem only he could solve.

“You…I need to get you out of here.” Hoseok stood up and began collecting Namjoon’s things off the floor, bundling the evidence in his arms. When he picked up his dropped phone, he texted the group chat.

Namjoon’s really sick. Throwing up a lot. I’m taking him home.

Hoseok hoped they could leave before anyone could come running to check on them. He peered out the restroom door and surveyed the halls, finding them empty. He ran through a mental map of the floor based on his memory, eliminating options one by one. He couldn’t take Namjoon to the elevators, they were too small and crowded. The fire exit would be the quickest route, but might ultimately draw too much attention after tripping the alarms. That left the regular stairwell—most people preferred not to use it apart from a few maintenance workers, so while it was potential trouble, it was still the path of least resistance.

“Okay.” Hoseok urged Namjoon forward, relieved he could at least fit through the doorway. “Here’s what we’ll do. You go down to the end of the hall as fast as you can without making a ton of noise, that’s where the stairwell is. Go down the stairs until you get to the ground floor, and go out the back. Do not round the corner, that’s where the staff go to smoke. Stay in that alleyway and separate yourself from the building as much as possible before too many people spot you. You will attract attention out on the street, but no one should recognize you, right? I’ll meet you at your apartment complex and help you get inside.”

Namjoon nodded sharply, and rushed to get into position. In the chaos and unanswered questions of it all, Hoseok had to appreciate his cooperation.

Once the coast was clear, Namjoon slinked out to the stairwell. Hoseok took a calming breath, uncertain that Namjoon could stay out of trouble while he was gone, but unable to think of an alternative. As soon as he was out of sight, Hoseok disposed of his tattered clothes and pocketed his possessions to return later. He then returned to the dance studio just long enough to collect the rest of their things.

“How is he?” Jimin asked, the rest of the members watching him worriedly as they stretched. “Can we help at all?”

“No,” Hoseok said quickly. “I don’t think he wants anyone to see him right now. He barely tolerated me being there.”

“He doesn’t need the hospital, does he?” Yoongi asked.

“I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Hoseok shrugged his and Namjoon’s bags over his shoulders.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with his condition, does it?” Taehyung asked.

Hoseok froze, gears turning in his head at the possibility. But before he could connect the thought fully, the dance instructor called out: “You can go ahead and help him get home, and I’ll help you catch up on the choreo later.”

“Oh, thank you.” Hoseok bowed to the instructor and said goodbye to the other members, before quickly leaving the studio and anxiously moving back down to the ground floor. Once he made it to the lobby, he pulled on his cap and face mask and left the building. As soon as he moved out into the sun, he was startled by a black streak moving across the sky. It took him a moment to process, but from the brief glimpse he got of the figure before it disappeared behind tall buildings, he recognized it just enough to realize it was Namjoon.

He can fly. Of course he can.

He made his way through a crowd of shocked bystanders who also saw the unusual sight. Some old people knelt to the sidewalk and into a full bow, some youngsters clasped their hands to make a wish. But most simply stared in shock at the sight of such a rare creature slithering across the sky.

Hoseok called a taxi and rode quietly to Namjoon’s apartment complex. It felt like it took forever to get there, his anxiety boiling over as he responded politely but curtly to the driver’s friendly comments. He thanked the driver once they arrived, and he hurried to Namjoon’s apartment—a route he’d taken many times, but one which now filled him with worry and fear.

He found Namjoon huddled under some trees near his complex, desperate to hide himself in any way possible. The incessant ringing of this will be on the news chanted in Hoseok’s head like a curse, but he had to get Namjoon inside before the thought overwhelmed him.

“Okay, I have your key,” Hoseok said, breathless. “Come with me.” He tapped the card against the outer door and ushered Namjoon inside. Once again, Namjoon slithered up the stairwell while Hoseok took the elevator up to his floor. He swiped the key once again to open the door, and together they went inside.

A foul odor hit Hoseok in the face upon entering the apartment, and the living room looked completely trashed—the sofas and coffee table had been shoved to the far corners of the main area, and what had to be a dozen sheets and throw blankets, about as many pillows, and multiple mattresses were piled together in the middle, in what Hoseok could only describe as a giant nest. There was a pile of stuff in the middle of it, but before he could make any of it out, Namjoon stepped into the mess and curled up in it, his serpentine body filling it nearly to the edges.

Hoseok stood helplessly, staring at the huge black creature coiled in the mess that used to be his member’s living room, and the full weight of the revelation he was facing hit him like a boulder. His brother of over a decade had hidden such a severe part of himself, refused to show them an entire other form he was capable of, until he was forced to. And for what? Weren’t they supposed to know everything about each other?

His condition. He hid this form and blamed it on some abstract, seemingly unknown medical condition. And Hoseok, all the members had believed him. Because why would he lie? Why would he keep this from them?

Hoseok felt sick. He dropped their things next to the “nest” and rushed into the guest bedroom. He didn’t feel safe, didn’t know what to think anymore. He locked the door behind him and sat on the floor, shoved up against the bed. He had been in this room many times after a night of drinking—it was a place to crash when he was too tipsy to get home by himself, which for him wasn’t much. But in the moment, the comfort and familiarity of it was gone. It felt as though he was in a warped, nightmare version of the room he once knew. And the owner of it, a man he thought he knew better than his own family, had changed before his eyes. Had become a monster.

He was shaking, felt like he might throw up. He felt like he needed to cry, but he couldn’t. What could he do, even? There was no going back from what he saw. The knowledge he thought he had of Namjoon had been permanently altered. Nothing would ever be the same.

And yet…at the same time, nothing had really changed. That was still Namjoon in that scaly body, his mannerisms present even in this new form. And his eyes, the way they looked at him, had remained so unchanged that there was no way Hoseok would mistake him for anyone or anything else. And if he was feeling shaken by what had happened, how must Namjoon feel?

He slowly left the bedroom and returned to the living room. His last sliver of hope that is was a weird nightmare or hallucination vanished as soon as he spotted the black scaly form filling the space. He nearly startled when he rounded the corner—Namjoon’s large beastly eyes stared back at him, as if waiting for him to return. But rather than find it creepy and ominous, Hoseok couldn’t help but find it sad. He had seen this look on Namjoon before, when he was exhausted and his ends were fraying and he was trying to act like a nasty comment from an interviewer or news article wasn’t deeply affecting him. A look that made Hoseok want to pick him up and tuck him into his pocket to keep him safe from the cruel world.

Hoseok sighed and knelt in front of Namjoon’s head, placing a hesitant hand over his nose. “Sorry, it’s a lot to take in. I…I don’t know why you never told us. But…you’ll tell me everything when you’re ready, right?”

Namjoon blinked slowly, nudged the hand against him the smallest amount.

Hoseok stood back up and looked around the apartment, and that’s when he noticed the source of the foul smell—nearly a dozen takeout containers and ramen cups sat scattered around the dining table and kitchen counter. He made quick work of disposing the ramen cups and washing the takeout containers, stacking each one on the drying rack. As he was finishing up at the sink, he heard some heartbreaking groans coming from the living room. He could see Namjoon curling tighter and shivering, his face screwed in pain.

He dried his hands with a towel and rushed over, unsure of what to do. He pressed a hand to Namjoon’s neck, only to draw it away when he felt how icy it was. Are dragons supposed to be cold? He figured not, as Namjoon didn’t look comfortable at all.

He knew Namjoon’s apartment by heart, so he didn’t have to look for the thermostats. He turned up the air temperature, as well as the floor heaters. He wasn’t sure how much good it would do, but he didn’t know what else he could do.

When he looked back over, Namjoon was still shivering, but staring at him with the most pleading look. It drew Hoseok closer, but before he could come to a stop in front of the nest, Namjoon reached out a taloned hand and clamped it around his arm. Hoseok’s whole body tensed with fear, but in an instant, Namjoon pulled him into the nest and against his body.

“Wait, you’re really cold!” Hoseok squirmed against him, but rather than escaping, his arms fell around his neck. “So cold…”

He was rocked by Namjoon’s shivers, and all he could do was lay against him until the room grew warm, when he didn’t feel so much like ice. It felt like it took an hour, but eventually, Namjoon was no longer shaking, and he seemed to calm down. Hoseok curled up against Namjoon’s long neck, absentmindedly running his fingers through his mane—it felt just like his regular hair, and it struck Hoseok with a deep sense of melancholy.

“You really haven’t been feeling well, huh?”

Namjoon sighed, a powerful gust of wind that rolled a few pillows off the mattresses. But as if deflating, his body softened around Hoseok. His tail unraveled slightly and ran over Hoseok’s legs, and Hoseok could see the pile of objects he was wrapped around. The first and largest thing he noticed was a bike, followed by several pieces of designer clothing, various trinkets, a Ryan plushie…

And then it hit him. These were all things he had gotten from the members as gifts. He recognized the bike as being a birthday gift from Seokjin, and spotted some figurines he had given Namjoon years ago simply because they made him think of him. He knew Namjoon had kept some of his gifts, but he wasn’t expecting to see any from so long ago. Especially since Namjoon had said many times that they didn’t need to get gifts for him.

Staring at the pile of treasures had also caused something else to click in Hoseok’s brain. He had a flashback to when they were trainees, and several members had complained about their belongings going missing. They were eventually all found in a pile on Namjoon’s bed, strategically placed so that it wouldn’t create a noticeable lump under his sheets. Everyone had been so angry at him, and he had looked guilt-ridden as he apologized and insisted he had planned on returning everything.

It didn’t make sense at the time, but seeing it now after so many years made Hoseok realize it was an early sign they had all missed. He had always heard of hoarding behaviors being more common in Western dragon shifters, but looking around, he couldn’t call this anything else.

Hoseok felt a pang of sadness in his chest, and lay his hand over Namjoon’s…hand? Paw? “Namjoon-ah…when we’re not here, do you miss us?”

He felt Namjoon tense around him, his muscles burgeoning, and he kind of regretted asking. But Namjoon craned his head back to nuzzle him, and Hoseok’s arms found their way around his muzzle. “Aigoo…there’s a lot of things you’re not telling us, huh?”

As the temperature in the room rose, Hoseok removed his sweater as he felt beads of sweat forming on his neck. The heat was enough to make him sleepy, but he was startled out of a gentle drift by a loud rumbling beneath him. He looked around frantically, thinking Namjoon had growled at him, but he looked close to falling asleep himself. Then he realized it must have been Namjoon’s stomach.

“Hey, you should eat something,” Hoseok cooed. Even when Namjoon responded with an unimpressed huff, Hoseok took his phone out. “I’ll order us some dinner.” He picked out some food for himself, then added some that he was confident Namjoon would like. He would have asked, but clearly Namjoon couldn’t tell him what he wanted in this state.

The chime of Namjoon’s doorbell sounded not long later, and Hoseok stood to go answer it. But before he could step out of the nest, he felt a sharp clamp over his arm, and noticed that Namjoon had grabbed him again, looking desperate.

“Hey, relax, I’m just getting the food.” Hoseok rubbed his fingers to encourage him to let go. When Namjoon still looked unsure, Hoseok added, “Namjoon-ah, do you trust me? Don’t you trust me to come right back here?”

Namjoon looked sad, but released his grip and watched intently as Hoseok made his way to the door. He made quick work of opening it and taking the bag of food that had been left there. He then returned to the nest as he had promised, pulling the coffee table to the edge so that he could lay out the food. His priority was getting Namjoon fed, so he began by opening the biggest container, stuffed to the brim with jajangmyeon. He couldn’t help but smile when Namjoon’s eyes widened and his ears perked up in response.

It really was the same Namjoon he knew.

Hoseok used the chopsticks to mix the sauce into the noodles for him, but otherwise wasn’t sure how to feed him. Should he just give him the bowl? He tried that first.

“Here you go.” Hoseok set the bowl down within Namjoon’s reach. However, Namjoon simply looked at it with hesitation, his gaze flitting briefly to Hoseok, before trying to get his lips into the bowl and nearly tipping it over.

“Whoops!” Hoseok saved the bowl from disaster. “Here, let me…” With no other clever ideas, he picked up a large bundle of noodles with the chopsticks and held it out. Namjoon eagerly took the mouthful, sucking it all up like he usually did. Hoseok dug out another big pile, and Namjoon continued to feed from it. This continued until the container was empty, and Namjoon was trying to lick out the extra sauce with the tip of his tongue, reminiscent of his usual habit of scraping the sauce with his chopsticks Hoseok was used to.

“I’ll allow that this one time,” Hoseok chuckled, before setting aside the licked clean container. He then pulled open the container with the bungeoppang, and Namjoon actually seemed to bounce with excitement. Hoseok smiled at the display, and held out a few of the pastries for Namjoon to take, which soon turned into a playful exchange of him tossing the breads into his waiting, open mouth.

Namjoon waited patiently for Hoseok to eat his meal, seemingly at least content that he was sitting on the edge of the nest. Hoseok felt his sleepy gaze on him as he quietly ate his chicken cutlets and rice. Once he was finished, he got a sad moan as he got up to wash out the containers and leave them out to dry. As he worked at the sink, he heard some shuffling coming from the living room. And when he returned, he found the items Namjoon had been wrapped around pushed to the far edge of the nest to make some room, and Namjoon had arranged a few pillows and blankets beside himself. Hoseok stared at it for a moment before it sunk in. “Is that…for me?”

Namjoon actually stood and stepped out of the nest, so that he could curl around Hoseok and nudge him into the little space he’d carved out. He seemed desperate not to let Hoseok leave, and it made him think back to past instances he had been over at this apartment for dinner or drinks. Namjoon would always ask him if he was staying over, though at the time it sounded to Hoseok like a simple curiosity, like he was wondering if he would have to make the spare bed. But now, as he was ushered onto the mattresses and surrounded on nearly all sides by black scales, Hoseok wondered if there was always a silent plea in the question that he’d previously missed.

Questions and anxieties continued to swirl in his mind, but with the ambient warmth of the room and the protective barrier of Namjoon’s long body, he eventually relaxed just enough to sleep.

When Hoseok stirred, he wasn’t sure what time it was. Namjoon had blackout curtains over every window, and they kept the daylight out at all hours. He could check his phone, but he wasn’t quite ready to face a new day, when he would have to start pondering the implications of what he had discovered. He couldn’t explain it, but something about staying inside the apartment with Namjoon made it feel less real, like he didn’t have to confront how this was going to change everything.

And so he lay curled up in the darkness until he could no longer ignore his bladder, and sat up slowly. But before he could get up, he noticed something was different. The large dragon surrounding him was gone, and he felt a heavy arm slide away from his side. He looked over to see a humanoid, decidedly normal Namjoon silhouette barely legible in the darkness. Hoseok stared for a second in confusion—had the whole dragon thing really been a very vivid dream? A hallucination of some kind? Had nothing from the previous night even happened? Hoseok wanted to believe it. Granted, something about Namjoon’s form still looked off, like it wasn’t shaped exactly right. But Hoseok was still bleary-eyed, and maybe he was still shaking off the dream.

Not yet ready to find out, he padded through the darkness and into the bathroom. After using the toilet, he decided to give himself a quick shower—he’d used Namjoon’s hygiene products and changed into his clothes before, something Namjoon never seemed to mind.

It was hard finding clothes in Namjoon’s closet that fit him, but once he found some that didn’t feel like they were going to fall off, he made his way back out to the living room. When he did, he heard what sounded like soft crying. He froze, wondering if he should find the light switch.

“Namjoon-ah?” Hoseok whispered into the void, his hair standing on end.

“Hob-ah?” The wettest, most heartbreaking version of Namjoon’s voice graced his ears, and he returned to the now too big nest in an instant.

“Hey…are you okay?” Hoseok reached out, hesitant to touch. Something about Namjoon still felt different, and he didn’t want to find out what it was.

“I…I thought you were gone,” Namjoon muttered. “I’m sorry, it’s just…I was worried you left without warning…and…you were gonna tell someone?” The end of his statement sounded stilted, tense, like it wasn’t entirely truthful.

“I was just taking a shower,” Hoseok assured. “I’m going to get up really quick and turn on the light, okay? Then-”

“No!” Namjoon barked. “No light.”

“I just need to make sure you’re okay.” Hoseok stood up and moved to the dimmer switch, nudging it until just enough of a glow hardened the outlines of the room. And when he saw Namjoon, he nearly jolted.

He was still in the nightmare.

Namjoon was no longer dragon, but not quite human. He was in some form in between the two, where his body was human-shaped, but it was still covered mostly in black scales, with the smallest gradients of human skin visible near his hands and face. There was also a thick tail coming out of his backside, the scariest part of the whole image to Hoseok.

But his gaze was always drawn back to Namjoon’s unchanging eyes, which were now red-rimmed and full of tears. And as he slowly approached the nest, Namjoon began to shake. It was clear as day that they were both scared, and that allowed Hoseok to hold onto some of his sanity.

Hoseok sat in front of Namjoon on the mattress and sighed. “No more secrets, okay?”

Namjoon sniffled and wiped his eyes, looking defeated and exposed. “I thought you’d hate me.”

Hoseok braced himself for answers he needed, but wasn’t sure he wanted. “Why?”

Namjoon paused to pull a blanket over his lap, wrapping it around his waist, and it was then that Hoseok belatedly realized he was naked. He didn’t look naked in this state, as his scales covered his skin and he didn’t spot anything down there, but as soon as he had the thought, he aborted it.

“I…didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. The other kids were scared of me whenever I shifted, and I was always told I was too clingy.”

“Too clingy?” Hoseok questioned.

Namjoon shrugged. “I was pretty physical when I was little. My parents told me it was part of my nature as a shifter. But I had to find other outlets because I was getting bullied. That’s around when I got involved in the rap scene—that’s an atmosphere that really teaches you how to steel yourself and build confidence. And then I became an idol trainee and met all of you. I wasn’t expecting it to last very long, I think none of us were, so I didn’t think to mention it. I never did with any of my friends, I just took care of it by myself or went home to my parents for help. But then…I dunno, you all became such bigger parts of my life, and by then it felt too late to say anything.”

Every word broke Hoseok’s heart more and more. It sounded so…normal for him, to suppress himself in a way that didn’t sound healthy at all. “That sounds awful…so, you just spent a bunch of time and energy making sure no one found out?”

Namjoon shrugged again, and Hoseok noticed his scales seemed to be fading, more and more of his extremities returning to human skin. “It wasn’t that bad once I got the hang of it. It was way better than being called a freak and losing relationships. I mean, it was made pretty clear to me that everyone outside of my family found it off-putting, and I wanted people to like me, but I really wanted to not scare or disgust people.”

“I don’t understand.” Hoseok shook his head. “When you flew over the city, people looked at you in awe. It was like they wanted to worship you.”

“People like the idea of dragons,” Namjoon grumbled. “But whenever I became one while close to someone…I could just feel them turn cold on me. It’s like everyone thinks dragons are perfect and divine beings, but we’re made of flesh just like everyone else, and that realization turns us from gods to animals. Like diseased pigs.”

“But that sounds like you were surrounded by judgmental people. If they knew it was impacting your health…”

“Well, sometimes we have to make sacrifices for others, right?” Namjoon snapped just a bit too loud. “We can’t just be ourselves if it violates other people’s boundaries.”

“But you can’t let others violate yours either,” Hoseok said. “What if I told you that you can be a dragon around me?”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon spat, honeyed skin overtaking the dark scales. “I saw the way you looked at me…”

Hoseok shook his head. “I was in shock. I couldn’t believe I was just learning this about you after ten years. I’m still taking it in. I’m upset you never told me about such a big part of yourself, I couldn’t give a shit what that thing actually was.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Namjoon growled. “Everyone says that shit but there’s just some things no one likes. Don’t say stuff lightly just to try and make me feel better.” Skin was now overtaking his body, his nipples appearing on what was once a smooth, plated chest.

“But I want you to feel better,” Hoseok said. “I want you to get better. After everything I saw last night, it left me feeling like…like you were never truly okay.”

Namjoon said nothing, his face still tensed in a frown, but the scales fading to skin had halted.

“Things will never be the same now,” Hoseok continued. “I want that to be a good thing. I want to know what other needs you’ve been hiding from me, ones I can help with.”

Namjoon shook his head. “No one can help me.”

“No one has helped you,” Hoseok said. “And I know that’s left you hurt. But I see you suffering so much, and I just want to bundle you up and keep you safe, I just wish you’d let me.”

Namjoon looked at him then, unsure. “What do you mean?”

“You remember when we used to live together?” Hoseok said. “You used to come into my room when you were having a bad night, and you would be so upset. But any time I tried to comfort you, you’d run away. So I always pretended to be asleep so you’d lay down with me and take whatever comfort you needed. It hurt so much you know, hearing you try not to sob in my ear.”

Namjoon looked guilty, hunching in on himself. “You knew?”

“You’re not exactly stealth,” Hoseok chuckled, before returning to a serious tone. “So I’m asking again, no more secrets. Do you really prefer less physical contact? Or were you hiding that from us too?”

The scales looked as though they were vibrating on Namjoon’s skin, jittering back and forth. “I don’t want to…be demanding…”

Hoseok clicked his tongue. “I’ll try asking that again, and I want you to be as selfish as possible. Do you want to be held?”

Namjoon balled up the blanket across his lap into his fists. “Sometimes.”

“Right now?”

He gave the tiniest of nods. “Yeah.”

Hoseok scooted into Namjoon’s space and pulled him into his arms. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but he was startled when he felt Namjoon lean all of his weight on him, releasing a huge sigh like he could finally breathe. Hoseok felt the smooth, soft skin shift and wrinkle back into tough, rugged scales in a near instant, watched the thick tail reappear.

Hoseok fell back from the weight of Namjoon over him, and had to wriggle to shift him against his side. He held Namjoon close, stroked the scaly expanse of his arms up and down.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, huh?” Hoseok cooed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Namjoon frowned. “Scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you…getting sick of me…”

“Namjoon-ah! Why on earth-”

“I want this…all the time…you’d get sick of it…”

“Well, maybe if you let us cuddle you more often, the urge wouldn’t be so strong all the time.”

Namjoon looked uncertain, but didn’t respond. Hoseok ran his fingers through Namjoon’s hair, something he had always wanted to do, but wasn’t sure if Namjoon would let him. Now though, it was so natural to thread his fingers through the locks that it felt as though he had always done it. This seemed to get Namjoon to finally relax, closing his eyes and nuzzling Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok saw the tip of his tail gently flopping up and down to an unknown rhythm.

And suddenly, something about it just felt right. Hoseok had been unsure that he would be able to get used to Namjoon looking like this, of being this. But now he felt as though he had finally been able to bear witness to Namjoon’s full self, his mysteries finally made clear. There were still many questions left unanswered, but the ambiguity of it all was disappearing.

Hoseok reached for his phone and checked the time. It was still a few hours before he had to go to the company. He had a few worried texts from the members, and a few unread emails. He decided to tackle the concerned group chat first.

Namjoonie is doing better today. Still sick tho..

Is he okay? I can come over

Hoseok replied to Jimin’s text, saying he’s pretty out of it and it might not be a good idea for too many people to be around him. He knew revealing Namjoon’s dragon form was inevitable, but he wouldn’t bring that on Namjoon until he was feeling well enough to have a serious conversation. And though Hoseok couldn’t explain it, part of him didn’t want to reveal it, as if he was hoping to have this part of Namjoon all to himself. He knew it wasn’t logical, but he’d always had a certain protectiveness toward Namjoon, a sort of pride that there were things Namjoon opened up to him about that he didn’t with the others.

Hoseok gave Namjoon a hearty pat on the shoulder. “We should probably be getting up now.”

“No,” Namjoon whined, sounding half-asleep.

“Don’t you want something to eat? I can order us something again.”

Namjoon twirled Hoseok’s (his own) shirt in his clawed fingers, contemplating. “Jajangmyeon?”

“Again?” Hoseok giggled. “Haven’t you had enough last night?”

“No…”

Hoseok began placing an order on his phone. “You’re such a jajangmyeon menace.”

He expected Namjoon to bite back with his own quip, but instead his frown deepened, and a flash of skin appeared over his hands. “I-I can get something else if you want me to…”

“Hey, I’m just teasing.” Hoseok gave the back of his neck a comforting squeeze. “I’ll get you some more jajangmyeon.”

When the food arrived, they once again ate in the nest at the coffee table. Namjoon did make some progress in asking if they should eat at the dining table, but Hoseok could see how reluctant he still was to leave the living room, so he didn’t push it. Especially after the devastated look on his face just from when Hoseok left briefly to get a few bottles of water from the fridge.

Hoseok could have watched Namjoon devour his noodles all day—he was never an unhappy man when he had jajangmyeon. But he was worried by how vigorously he was licking his lips, and so he offered the water bottle. “You should drink something. I didn’t see you drink anything yesterday, you must be so dehydrated.”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon mumbled, but he did take the bottle and down more than half of it, coughing a little when he pulled it away. “When I know I’m going to become stuck as a full dragon, I try not to eat or drink too much. It’s…” He rubbed his neck with embarrassment. “It’s not exactly easy to go to the bathroom when I’m like that.”

Before Hoseok knew what he was doing, his eyes flicked down to Namjoon’s crotch. He was still naked, and he was still flat there and covered in large scales. He didn’t realize he was staring until Namjoon closed his thighs and lay a hand over his groin.

“Sorry!” Hoseok’s gaze bounced back up to his face.

“It’s still there,” Namjoon said quickly, as if defending himself from an accusation. “It’s just…tucked away.”

Hoseok gulped, then turned away. He tried not to think about it since Namjoon was clearly uncomfortable, but it was hard not to conjure up ideas of how that might look.

They finished their meal in awkward silence. Hoseok checked his phone and figured he’d better leave soon. He didn’t want to, and knew Namjoon would be devastated, but he had a tight deadline coming up and he wasn’t sure he could afford to be out of the office much longer.

“Hob-ah…?”

Hoseok looked over, watched Namjoon’s skin pulse under the scales as he hesitated to say anything else. “Hmm?”

“If…If anyone had to see me like this…I’m glad it was you.”

Hoseok’s heart fluttered in that way it often did with Namjoon. He normally felt it when Namjoon praised a song he just finished, or marveled at his dancing, or wrote him a heartfelt message on his birthday. It was something he experienced with the other members, though not quite this intense, or…strangely melancholy.

He stroked up and down Namjoon’s scaly thigh, gazing into his pained eyes. “You can let yourself be like this around me. I think it helps you.”

“I’m just…”

“Scared?”

He shrugged. “I’m afraid it’s going to destroy the group.”

“Namjoon-ah, I promise you the others will-”

“There’s a lot you still don’t understand.”

“Well, I told you, no more secrets.”

“You don’t understand what you’re asking for. You don’t understand how quickly everything can fall apart.”

“We’re not the people you grew up with, Namjoon-ah. We won’t treat you like that.”

“This isn’t about me!” Namjoon’s voice rang loud across the open room. “It’s not about my being a shifter, or needing more attention, or anything like that!”

“Then what is it about?”

Namjoon looked hurt then, as if Hoseok had said something cruel. He started moving in that way he often did when he was holding back tears, and before Hoseok could get another word in, Namjoon stood and rushed away toward his room. Hoseok heard a door slam, and the apartment fell into an eerie silence. After a few tense moments, he pattered softly over to the bedroom, where he heard gentle sobbing on the other side. The sound immediately brought him back to their cohabitation days, remaining still and sleep-like as a devastated Namjoon curled up behind him.

He rapped on the door softly, which hardly affected the sobs. “Joon-ah, I need to leave for work now. But I will be back.” He meant it as comforting, but he wondered if it came out sounding too much like a threat.

The day at the office had gone by in a blur. Hoseok figured he must not have raised any alarms, as everything went smoothly, but beyond that he didn’t have much memory of what was discussed in the meetings, or even much of what he spent hours working on in his studio.

After many hours spent working with a numb mind, he gave himself a break and wandered to the cafeteria. Before he could get to the counter, he spotted Jimin and Taehyung eating at a table.

“Oh, hyung!” Jimin waved Hoseok over, and when he followed them to the table, Jimin lowered his voice. “How is Namjoon-hyung? We were going to visit him later.”

“What? No!” Hoseok blurted out, panic jolting his chest. “Don’t do that!”

“Why not?” Jimin asked, confused.

Hoseok racked his brain for an explanation. “He just wants to be left alone.”

“But it sounds like you spent an awful long time with him,” Taehyung said.

“I was just making sure he was okay…”

“And we can’t?” Jimin asked. “You haven’t exactly been saying much, and Namjoon won’t answer his texts. We’re all pretty worried.”

“He’s fine,” Hoseok said defensively.

“He doesn’t sound fine,” Taehyung muttered. “Honestly hyung, the way you described it…it almost sounds like he should be in the hospital.”

“It’s not…” Hoseok sighed, frustrated. “He doesn’t want visitors.”

“Visitors!?” Jimin barked. “Hyung, he’s our family! When did we have to get permission from you?”

“There’s just…” Hoseok’s heart began to race. “There’s something going on, you wouldn’t understand.”

Taehyung stood up then, the movement so quick the chair screeched and carried throughout the room. “Hyung. Please. Enough. I know he’s special to you, but you’re not the only one who’s worried. The rest of us deserve to know if something’s going on. I tolerated this kind of defensiveness from you over little things, but it’s gotten out of hand. You don’t own him.”

Hoseok looked at him, incredulous. “I never said I owned him.”

“Of course you’ve never said it,” Jimin said, his voice low but wavering. “But sometimes it feels that way. There’s always been something very…strong between you two, and none of us wanted to get in the middle of that. It’s like you’re in your own little world sometimes. We never paid much attention because you seem happy, but sometimes you leave us out of things that feel like the rest of us should really be involved.”

Hoseok stood there, stunned. He didn’t know how to respond to any of that. Was that true? Had he really gatekept Namjoon from the rest of them for so long like that? He thought back at how often Namjoon would end up in the same room as him, talking about everything and nothing, how he deflated. How Hoseok had felt so much pride watching Namjoon become happier in his presence, how special their bond felt. How he couldn’t imagine his life without Namjoon in it.

What did it all mean?

“I…um…” Hoseok looked between them. Jimin looked stern but a little frightened, while Taehyung was wiping at his face.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Taehyung whispered. “It’s just…”

“Hey.” Hoseok shook off the strange feelings creeping over him, giving the younger a hug. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I guess I didn’t realize how protective I was over him. Of course you’re as worried about him as I am. I promise you’ll see him soon. In fact, we should plan a meeting around it. Something happened and it might be best if everyone is present.”

“You’re making this sound more ominous.” Jimin eyed him suspiciously.

“I know, but trust me on this,” Hoseok pleaded. “I’ll explain as much as I can in the group chat. Then we’ll all find a way to meet up, and we’ll talk about it.” Hoseok took a deep breath, trying to slow his compartmentalizing brain. “Namjoon isn’t injured. He’s not even sick, really. Physically, he’s okay, and doing much better than he was. But he’s really distressed, and I want to give him some time to figure out how to approach the rest of you.”

Thankfully, the younger members seemed to accept it, even if they were weary. “I’ll let the others know,” Jimin said. “Let Namjoon-hyung know we’d like to hear from him, if possible.”

“Of course.”

Hoseok felt more out of sorts as he prepared to return to Namjoon’s apartment, so much so that he decided to go to his own instead. His body swirled with confusing thoughts over what Jimin and Taehyung had said—that he was protective, that he thought Namjoon was special…

There were always intense feelings around Namjoon. He knew he felt something different than what he felt with the other members. But he had always assumed it was a particularly strong same-age friendship. Something beyond other chingu pairs he had known, but nothing super noteworthy. But there were always moments that had left Hoseok thinking: This is not what friends feel for friends. He wanted to believe it was a fluke the first time he rubbed one out in the shower and images of Namjoon’s lips and tongue and hands flashed in his mind.

He pushed down everything that couldn’t be explained as friendship or brotherhood. Because what else would it be? And if it was something else, what would the price be?

But everything had come to the surface at once. Jimin and Taehyung, and probably everyone else, knew there was something different going on between them, something that they hadn’t wanted to intervene with, because it was powerful and made them happy.

And then the most dangerous, most not-friends thought entered Hoseok’s mind.

Is Namjoon scared of this, too?

He slid to the floor against his living room wall and hyperventilated through tears.

He knew he had to go back.

It was terrifying, and it had the potential to change the entire trajectory of their relationship and the future of the group. But this was one aspect of his life he couldn’t put off running from. With a hammering heart, Hoseok let himself into Namjoon’s apartment, and peered into the darkness.

He was too scared to call out for Namjoon. The room was dark except for some faint light bleeding in over the edge of the curtains, and this light was just enough to make out the faint shape of a large creature balled up in the middle of everything.

Hoseok took some deep, calming breaths as he allowed his eyes to adjust into the darkness. And it was then that he could see Namjoon more clearly, in full dragon form, huddled around a large mass that he figured must have been the large pile of gifts he had hoarded. Namjoon was asleep. He had the chance to run, without Namjoon ever having known he had actually come back.

But how long would he get away with that?

His belly filled with dread as he approached the nest, and his hand shook as it came down on Namjoon’s muzzle. Soon after he began to stroke it up and down, he felt a tensing, and heard a breathy grunt. The head swung up, swaying with sleepy disorientation.

“Namjoon-ah, it’s me.”

Namjoon seemed to perk up at that. Hoseok heard a loud clattering as the pile of stuff was shoved full force out of the nest, and jumped at the noise. He then watched in anticipation as Namjoon’s fuzzy outline squirmed and fussed around the nest, the ruffle of fabric loud in the otherwise quiet room. After nearly a minute of this, he was bumped in the back as Namjoon snaked his head behind him and nudged him toward the spread of mattresses. He easily complied, not knowing what else to do, and was soon enveloped in a soft and fluffy inner nest made up of what must have been Namjoon’s finest blankets and pillows.

Hoseok sighed as he sank into the gentle comfort pile, and felt a pleasant pressure on all sides, almost like a massage. Before he let himself sink too far into the feeling, he forced himself to look around and realized that Namjoon was curling around him, in the same manner that he had done with the pile of stuff.

He could have fallen asleep like this, but there was a bubble of anxiety deep in his chest, and it only rose higher the more he realized the weight of the gesture. He knew now what this habit meant for Namjoon—he didn’t need his hoarding treasures when Hoseok was there. Because Hoseok was his treasure.

He was overcome with emotion, and he shook in his throne of fleece and down pillows as he tried not to sob, or wail, or whatever he might do if he didn’t try to hold himself together. This was how he wanted to live, he realized—here, in Namjoon’s all-encompassing embrace, in the quiet cave of home where no one else could bother them. Where Namjoon would readily take from Hoseok all the love he could ever need to be happy, to love his life.

“Namjoon-ah…” he found himself saying, his voice shaky. “I need to tell you something.”

He heard a quiet chuff, a gentle encouragement to talk.

“I…” Hoseok didn’t want to say it, but knew he would be broken with guilt if he didn’t. “I think I’m in love with you. And…I think I always have been.”

He felt the body against him stiffen and shake. He knew he couldn’t expect any other reaction, but it still scared him—there were only two paths forward, and neither would be easy to cope with.

The pressure around him shrunk away, molding and shifting back down into a humanoid shape. The feeling of contentment within Hoseok vanished completely, and he was left with the weight of a confession that had permanently changed everything in an instant.

“Hob-ah…” Namjoon’s voice came out shaky, petrified.

They both sat, frozen, starting at each other’s vague silhouettes.

“Fuck, please say something,” Hoseok belted out before he could stop himself. Regret was boiling in his veins and it was taking everything in him not to run out the door and start planning a new life.

He heard some shuffling then, and then some padded footsteps. The light of the living room faded slowly in, and there next to the dimmer switch stood Namjoon, clutching a blanket around his hips, his body covered in skin and the most human-looking it had ever been in the last forty-eight hours.

“Don’t say that…” Namjoon whimpered. “Don’t say anything you can’t say to my face.”

“I’m in love with you.” It came out so easily, more so than when he had said it under the cover of dark. Because he was confident now, looking at this man he’d spent a decade of his life with, looking into his eyes and realizing everything that he wanted for the rest of his life.

Namjoon made his way back to the nest on shaky legs, collapsing on a mattress and looking so dejected, like he thought a prank was being played on him. “If you’re not serious, this isn’t funny.”

“I am serious! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I wanted this for years,” Namjoon grumbled. “I wanted to hear you say it but you never did, so I figured you must not feel the same way. What am I supposed to believe other than you found something out and decided to tease me about it?”

“I wouldn’t ever do that,” Hoseok insisted. “This isn’t a joke to me. I guess…I guess it just took me this long to realize why I always felt so weird around you.”

Namjoon chuckled, but he had never sounded so panicked. “So…you’re in love with me. You fucking mean that.”

“I fucking mean that.”

Hoseok felt a sharp warmth on his face as Namjoon’s hands cupped his cheeks, and soon nothing about the conversation felt like a joke.

“I’ve been in love with you a long time,” Namjoon whispered. “Nothing scares me more than what I feel when I look at you.”

Hoseok leaned into his touch, his eyes drooping. “It doesn’t have to be scary.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

Hoseok huffed, smiling. “Because this will change everything.”

“Will you regret it?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Namjoon leaned in slowly, and soon Hoseok felt their lips touch. He tilted his head and connected them, a shudder running down his spine at the reality of what they were leaving behind—safety, security, certainty—in exchange for relieving the burden they had carried in secret for years. The kiss was chaste and warm and dry, and soon Namjoon pulled away to look at him, his eyes darting around his face to check for any doubt.

Hoseok wound a hand around the back of his neck and eagerly pulled him back in.

“So, what’s this about?” Yoongi asked, low and gentle in the otherwise thick atmosphere, all members gathered in Hoseok’s living room—Namjoon’s was still a mess—and sitting on whatever was available.

The full weight of what Namjoon had to do slammed him like a bullet train, and he thought he might be sick. He felt tenuously tethered to Hoseok’s hand, which he gripped harder than what probably felt comfortable.

Hoseok sensed his anxiety and decided to break the ice. “Namjoon has something he has to come clean about. It concerns his condition, the one that often leaves him sick and in pain. We’ve spoken about it, and agreed it would be better if everyone knew the full story.”

Everyone’s eyes trained on Namjoon, he took a shaky breath as his terror reached a fever pitch, but he knew he couldn’t get out of it. “I kept a lot from all of you. It started as something that felt like a small secret and then just kind of snowballed. I can’t help it if you don’t see me the same way after this. I…I’m sorry I let it get this far.” He detached himself from Hoseok and stood up. “This is going to sound so fucking weird, but I have to take my clothes off for this. Don’t say anything, just trust me.”

Hoseok could have cut the confusion with a knife. Everyone stared as Namjoon circled around the back of the couch and pulled his clothes off. Bare naked and feeling more exposed than he ever thought possible, he took a deep breath, and started to shift. Skin shriveled and blackened to scales, a tail pushed into existence, his size grew and his body morphed until he had filled most of the room with his physical presence.

No one moved, or said a word. They simply stared, unable to process what they were looking at. Hoseok understood—nothing could have prepared them for such a confession. He was sure he looked at Namjoon the exact same way. Unbelieving. Shocked. Maybe even fearful.

Namjoon didn’t move either. It was as if he feared that one twitch of his tail would send them all running. And so he waited, returning the look of worry that he was being overwhelmed by.

Jungkook was the first to move. He rose to a shaky stand, then an equally shaky walk. His eyes were huge and round, but they seemed to change from horror to wonder. He stopped right in front of Namjoon’s face, raised his hands to the large forehead. “I knew…” his voice was silent, but echoed in the large room. “I knew there was a reason you always looked so cool.”

Namjoon crumbled at that, letting out a low groan. As long as Jungkook still looked at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky, he knew he would be okay.

This seemed to deflate the tension in the room, as everyone started moving again. “A dragon!?” Seokjin bellowed. “You were a dragon the whole time?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jimin asked.

“He has a poor past with it,” Hoseok explained on his behalf. “He learned to hide it long before he was in our lives.”

“Dragons are a sign of luck and good fortune,” Yoongi pouted. “You’d think dragon shifters would be treated better than they are.”

“Does this mean no more secrets?” Taehyung asked.

Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s eyes met then, and another surge of anxiety ran through both of them. This didn’t go unnoticed by the others, and Yoongi took the initiative: “Anything else we should know about?”

Namjoon shifted back to human form and redressed himself, before returning to his spot next to Hoseok. They gazed at each other a moment, and Hoseok contemplated breaking the news, but Namjoon spoke up first.

“Hobi and I are in love,” he blurted out. “We’re in love and…and we want to explore it. We understand this might have ramifications for the team, but we will work on ways to mitigate it.”

“You’re in love?” Seokjin said. “I mean, I’d hardly call that a secret.”

“That…” Taehyung’s eyes widened. “That makes a lot of things make sense.”

“So it wasn’t just a same-age thing,” Jungkook said. “I wondered why I never acted that way with any of my friends.”

“Hell, maybe now things will actually improve without all that weird tension,” Yoongi said.

Jimin stood then, and approached the pair before leaning down to give each of them a hug. “We love you both, and we love this for you. We know you can make it work, okay?”

Namjoon and Hoseok looked at each other then, warm smiles on their faces. They knew now that no matter what happened, things would ultimately be okay.

In spite of Namjoon’s huge body and burgeoning muscles, his skin was soft where Hoseok caressed it, pushing his hands further up Namjoon’s shirt as he leaned deeper into the kiss. He felt Namjoon grip his head steady as he assaulted his mouth with his tongue, drawing a groan out of Hoseok.

“Missed you,” Namjoon whispered as Hoseok pulled his shirt over his head.

“Yeah?” Hoseok panted as he pulled his own shirt off. “My Namjoonie’s been working hard.”

Namjoon pressed his lips back to Hoseok’s, and he understood—Namjoon didn’t want to think about work right now, not when Hoseok had barged into his studio and teased him about coming over and giving him a fun night. He could tell by the way Namjoon’s eyes had widened that he had been waiting to hear that.

And so he let Namjoon pull him to his bed, shedding sweats and underwear as they went. He let Namjoon shove him down on the mattress—one of many he put back on the beds once he was well enough to disassemble the nest—and threw his head back when he felt his neck being licked and nibbled at. He felt strong hands trail down his frame, leaving electricity in their wake.

Namjoon bit his neck, tongued his nipples, mouthed his tummy, looking for anything sensitive. Hoseok could feel the little micro-adjustments he was making, mapping out his body for future exploration. He simply reveled in the way Namjoon pampered him, zeroing in on movements that made Hoseok whine and squirm. By the time Namjoon moved down to kiss the tip of his cock, he was already leaking.

“Joonie!” Hoseok whined when Namjoon engulfed him in his lips, sucking lightly at first before working his way down the shaft. He gasped and shuddered with each bob of Namjoon’s head, tongue swirling expertly with each stroke. He knew he’d come if Namjoon continued much longer, so he grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked, low but concerned, afraid he’d done something wrong.

“Too good,” Hoseok gasped, shaking as the pull of orgasm painfully dissipated. “Don’t wanna come yet.”

Namjoon smiled and crept back up to kiss him. Hoseok took the opportunity to touch him, hands sliding down his belly and feeling it tense the lower they got. His fingers landed gently across his erection, and when his other hand cupped his balls, Namjoon gasped in his mouth. He reveled in the feel of the smooth veiny skin, feeling it tremble as he tugged and squeezed languidly. He could do quick fucks but for Namjoon, he wanted to take his time.

Namjoon started to feel a bit stiff and shaky despite kissing him in earnest, so Hoseok gently pushed him by the shoulders until he had rolled him over, sitting over his belly. Namjoon’s eyes widened as he stared up at him, rubbed up and down his thighs. “Whoa…”

“You like this position, huh?” Hoseok chuckled and braced his hands against Namjoon’s chest, arching his back. “You’ve only written several songs about it.”

“Hob-ah…” Namjoon whimpered, squeezing his thighs, though there was still a stiffness to him. But he still seemed eager to continue, so Hoseok chocked it up to nerves, and began his own exploration for erogenous zones. He paused when he kissed just above the collarbone and felt Namjoon shudder, heard him gasp. He began to attack the area, but though Namjoon was responsive, he was quiet, more so than Hoseok was expecting. He wouldn’t have been upset if Namjoon were simply like that, but when he tilted his head up, he saw Namjoon biting his lip.

“Joon-ah, I want to hear you,” Hoseok cooed, caressing his face.

Namjoon frowned, his face contorting into conflict. He gently took Hoseok’s hand and thumbed over it. “Sorry, I’m…just quiet.”

“Now I know that isn’t true,” Hoseok huffed. “When we all lived together, the whole damn apartment knew what you were doing in the shower.”

Namjoon cringed at the memory of that awkward morning at breakfast, when the members struggled to gracefully break it to him that they frequently had to tune out the sound of his echoed whining, even though he’d been trying to muffle it.

“What’s really going on?” Hoseok twirled a finger around a nipple. “You know you don’t have to hide from me, right?”

Namjoon sighed sadly. “When I get…really into it, I…can’t control it.”

Hoseok quirked an eyebrow. “Can’t control what?”

“The dragon,” Namjoon muttered. “If I let myself enjoy it too much, I can’t keep my scales and claws from coming out. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Hoseok blinked in surprise. Of all the possible issues, Hoseok wasn’t expecting that. “Oh.”

“I’ve gotten good at performing while keeping it at bay,” Namjoon continued. “It’s just been a while, and my previous partners…well, they weren’t you. Just give me some time, I promise I’ll be better at it.”

“No,” Hoseok huffed. “I want to know you’re enjoying it. Let the dragon come out.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened. “What!?”

“I said it.” Hoseok smiled deviously.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Namjoon warned. “My claws and teeth are sharp. I could really hurt you if I lose focus.”

“Then just lay back and let me take care of you,” Hoseok cooed. “I want to see you relax and let go. I want to see how you really feel.”

Namjoon looked suddenly shy then, and Hoseok couldn’t blame him. Which was why he was excited when Namjoon gave a little nod. “Okay, I’ll try.”

Hoseok kissed him deep, giving his mouth a good lick, before his lips trailed down his body. He felt some pleasured squirming beneath him, but knew he’d have to soften Namjoon up before he really got anywhere. And so he continued to lick and bite and suck, carving out paths in the unclaimed territory of Namjoon’s skin. He felt goosebumps prickle under his touch as he planted kisses on his nipples and tummy, but he got the strongest reaction when he moved up back toward his neck. When he grazed his teeth along the tendon there, a high whine ripped through Namjoon’s throat.

“Got a sensitive neck, huh?” Hoseok cooed, causing Namjoon to preen. He continued to move up and down, taking note of the kind of reactions he was getting wherever he nibbled or swirled his tongue. He got some pleasured whimpers when he tasted the junction with his jaw, but he got a loud moan and a neck bare whenever he played at the base of Namjoon’s neck. And so he focused there, bit a necklace of bruises above his collarbones until Namjoon was a gasping mess. Hoseok initially felt encouraging hands squeezing his hips, but suddenly they ripped away, slamming hurriedly against the mattress as if pinned there by an unseen force. It was then that Hoseok felt it—the warm skin beneath him toughening into scales.

He pulled back to see Namjoon blissed out, what little skin still visible flushed a deep red. He leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, and Namjoon pressed back hard, but it wasn’t dominating at all—it was meek and eager, pleading and desperate. Hoseok chuckled against him. “Greedy.”

Namjoon huffed and kissed him in agreement. The message was clear to Hoseok: Yes. Want you, only you.

Hoseok felt rough hands grazing his skin, but not fully touching. Namjoon whined in frustration beneath him. He pulled back and lay a hand on his face. “I know you want to touch, so go ahead. It’s okay if you poke me.”

Namjoon frowned, looking a little floaty. “Don’t wanna hurt you…”

“Maybe I like the pain.” Hoseok smirked, and Namjoon’s eyes widened with interest.

Hoseok plunged back into Namjoon’s neck to get him more riled up, turned on by his noises of pleasure and pleading, the movement of his squirming, the hands roaming all over his skin. Hoseok stumbled in his movements when he felt the rough hand clamp over the head of his dick, sending a violent shockwave throughout his entire body that left him shuddering and gasping. As if pleased by the reaction, the hand began to move, jerking a little too fast and a little too tight, but the clumsy movement was so quintessentially Namjoon that Hoseok was turned on anyway.

“Okay, okay,” Hoseok gasped, his hand stilling the one pumping him. He crawled backward down Namjoon’s form, shaky but eager to see what he was working with.

He had seen Namjoon naked before, it was a side effect of living with him for so long. What he hadn’t ever seen, though, was his large, erect cock splitting apart the scales over his crotch, emerged from its beastly prison. Hoseok ran a curious palm up the shaft, fascinated with the roughness and slight texture at the base, which gradually faded into a soft, almost silky head.

Namjoon let out a high whine and bucked against Hoseok’s hand, throwing his own arms over his face in embarrassment. When Hoseok stroked down and back up again, closing his hand around as he moved, Namjoon jerked harder and cried out. Realizing then that the head must have been the most sensitive, Hoseok leaned in and swirled his tongue around it, shuddering at the taste and Namjoon’s nearly frantic reactions.

“Hobi!” he cried. “Wanna…w-wanna…”

“What do you want, baby?” Hoseok let off the torture at the head of his cock and kissed him at the rough base, lightly tugging at the scale plate below so that his balls fully distended.

“Want you to ride me,” Namjoon whimpered, low and hesitant, vulnerable.

“I know,” Hoseok whispered gently.

Namjoon reached over the bed and scrambled around for the lube, which Hoseok took from him. He wet his fingers with the substance and reached behind himself to finger himself open. He knew it wouldn’t take much time as he had opened himself up that morning, but he reveled in laying across Namjoon and letting the other rake his claws through his hair and squeeze his ass cheek, shuddering at the abrasive yet gentle feel of it.

Hoseok wasn’t sure if he was ready to take Namjoon’s full length, dragoness and all, but he was tired of waiting. He pumped a generous handful of lube and rubbed it over Namjoon’s cock—and from the way Namjoon was already writhing from this, Hoseok had to see how he’d fall apart under his tight heat.

He held Namjoon’s cock steady and sank down slowly, tensing and quivering at the intrusion, which in turn caused Namjoon to gasp. Hoseok breathed carefully to relax himself, sinking down until he’d bottomed out. The roughness around his rim made him shudder, and as he braced himself to move back up again, the drag of it sent sparks out across his body, to his leaking cock.

He slammed back down at just the right angle to make Namjoon’s head punch his prostate, and he gasped and scrambled for purchase on the scaly chest. Namjoon, with determination in his eyes, gripped Hoseok by the hips to steady him, then thrust up into him, hitting his prostate again. Hoseok moaned loud and moved faster, the two of them moving in a synchronized dance to find each other’s pleasure. But the coordination didn’t last long—as breaths hitched and whines grew higher, their movements turned sloppy, asynchronous slapping and overwhelmed cries filling the room. Hoseok gripped his throbbing cock, driving his orgasm closer as he focused on Namjoon’s red-hot and desperate face, listened to his moans, felt his cock pounding at his nerves.

“Hoba!” Namjoon whimpered, and Hoseok knew he was close. It brought him right to the edge.

“Inside,” Hoseok managed through deep breaths. “Come inside me…”

Namjoon seemed to let go of the last of his restraints, pistoning up into Hoseok and throwing his head back with what nearly sounded like a roar. He gripped Hoseok tight at the hips as he spilled his seed deep inside him, and rode it out sloppily. The look of utter ruin on Namjoon’s face was the last push Hoseok needed as he came all over the scaly belly and chest in thick ropes.

Hoseok didn’t realize how exhausted he was until he collapsed on top of Namjoon, landing in his own mess as his limbs trembled numbly. He felt Namjoon wrap his arms around him and slowly turn them sideways, laying them both down, before he curled around Hoseok completely. He felt completely engulfed in Namjoon, and despite the awkward position—bent in half with a cock still in his ass and one of his legs pinned under Namjoon’s body—he wouldn’t want it any other way.

But soon, he felt Namjoon tense against him and rub his hips. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled sadly.

Hoseok was confused, looking around for what had distressed him. On his hips, he saw angry red claw marks where Namjoon had squeezed him. The skin had broken, but there was no bleeding. He nuzzled into Namjoon’s neck. “Hey, don’t feel bad. I said I like a little pain, didn’t I?”

This seemed to ease Namjoon’s worries. But Hoseok’s leg was losing feeling, so he rolled them over and gently pulled himself off Namjoon’s soft cock, earning him a sad pout. Namjoon watched listlessly as he got up to clean up their clothes and the fluids drying on their bodies. Though his face turned to fascination as he watched Hoseok navigate his anatomy, hesitating before carefully dipping the corner of a warm cloth into his crotch…pouch?...before working up to his dick and balls, and then tugging the scales to tuck them back in.

Hoseok only stopped when he felt tugging on his arms, and chuckled. “Alright, you big baby.” Hoseok snuggled up to him and tried to spoon him, but Namjoon flipped them so that he was the big spoon, curling around him as his tail hugged Hoseok from the front.

“Thank you,” he mumbled into Hoseok’s hair.

“Hmm? What for?” Hoseok asked.

“For…everything. Just…” He took a deep breath. “There was still a part of me that thought…you were just putting up with all this.”

“What, the dragon thing?” When he felt a nod, he twisted around in Namjoon’s hold. “Namjoon-ah, listen. I love you. And the dragon’s part of you. How could I not love the dragon? And besides…” He flashed a cheeky smile. “I think dragon dick is just what I needed.”

Namjoon chuckled wetly, so happy and full of love, and channeled that into a deep kiss. He felt complete, his dragon fully appeased as he huddled close his most prized treasure, determined to never let him go.