Archive of Our Own

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The Dragonborn Kingdom arrive an hour before sunset, just as planned. Their extravagant ships dock in the harbor with fluttering scarlet and gold flags bearing the symbol of their people: a fierce onyx dragon with glimmering scales and monstrous wings. 

From his perch on the balcony outside his room, Felix leans against the railing and sighs, feeling a familiar twisting tug of dread pool in his stomach. Up until this moment, he’s allowed himself to exist in ignorant bliss, living life peacefully as usual, but he can only pretend for so long. 

And Felix knows better than to question his mother once she sets her mind to something. 

The iridescent glass doors behind him creak open and a tousled head of dark hair peeks out at him sheepishly. “It’s time, Your Highness.” 

Felix rolls his eyes at the formality. “Why is it you only address me properly when you know I’m not in the mood?” he sneers, but there’s no bite to his words. There never is with Jisung. 

His only friend and appointed caretaker, Han Jisung—a lower Water Fae with piercing violet eyes and the brightest smile Felix has ever seen—simply smirks and steps through the doors, holding them wide open with a flourish. “Come on, come on. Your mother is frightening when there’s company.”

Felix frowns and glances back toward the docks at the bottom of the mountain. Three ships in total, one much larger and more grandiose than the others, sit unassumingly still on the water. A dragon is carved into the wood at the helm of the largest ship, menacing with its wings sprawled out to frame the length of the deck on either side.

He knew this day would come, and despite the promise of a new chapter, Felix can’t help but wonder if his life, his freedom, will soon no longer be his.

<>

Queen Nabi of the Fae Kingdom stands tall and refined on the top steps of the castle as she awaits the arrival of her honored guests.

Felix can’t help but admire his mother—a pureblood Light Fae—while biting back a small smile from his position on her left. Wisps of her long white hair sway in the wind behind her, long enough to reach the cobblestone landing beneath her feet if not for the intricate braid keeping it contained. Whimsical sky blue silks and leaf green chiffons adorn her petite frame in loose waves, beaded with small crystals and dazzling gems in matching hues. Her steel gray eyes survey the land before her, sweeping across the lavish meadows and bustling downtown streets in the distance. 

He pictures the sight of them standing here together. Felix’s own eyes are blue, strikingly so. His hair is a shimmering blonde, though not as bright as his mother’s, styled over his forehead and long enough in the back to rest just above where his neck meets his shoulders.  Their features are much the same; angled jaw, pointed cupid's bow, high cheekbones. A perfect depiction of mother and son. 

Felix can feel the nerves radiating off of her, can see them manifesting in the way her thumbs keep twiddling behind her back. Part of him considers reaching out a hand in comfort, but he’s unable to ignore the persistent sizzle of bitterness on his tongue. 

His mother has explained everything to him what must be a hundred times now. Two prosperous kingdoms with of-age heirs. One dream of a better, stronger, brighter future. Felix has always been aware of his duties as an heir to a kingdom. He’s known the likelihood of something like this happening since he was just a young prince. 

The reality of it all is not too daunting a thing. If only he wasn’t betrothed to a Dragonborn. 

The Dragonborns, a kingdom of beings who can seamlessly shift between two different forms at will. From mighty dragon to humble Fae and back again, they’re known for their violent and cruel natures, that of which make them fearsome opponents in war. Despite their sheer strength and power, they lack natural resources, living primarily on long dead land ravaged by unpredictable volcanoes and unbearable heat, but that only seems to fuel their inner fire. 

Felix has never met a single Fae who hasn’t cowered at the mere mention of the Dragonborns. 

On the contrary, Felix’s people are gentle, graceful, and blessed with unimaginable reserves of natural magic, healing magic. Their kingdom is home to Fae of all elements and backgrounds, a safe haven where they can practice magic without fear of being taken advantage of. They use their magic to tend to the gardens and livestock and take care of their own, but even still, it’s not magic suitable for war.

And that’s why their two kingdoms are set to become one. An age old tale of the powerful war heroes protecting the weaker species, and in return, their wounds are tended to and their needs are met. 

It makes Felix sick. 

His gaze flickers away from his mother and down to the harbor where visiting troops are marching inland, flanking their leader and her most trusted adversaries on all sides. 

“Why did they waste the time sailing here if every one of them can fly?” Felix mumbles under his breath, indignant when his mother elbows him swiftly in the side with a plastic smile on her face. 

“Be nice, my lucky charm. First impressions are of the utmost importance,” she quips, rolling her shoulders back and straightening her spine. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix can see his mother gesture to Jisung, who has been standing silently off to the side before being beckoned. Felix huffs, but allows his friend to smooth out the non-existent rumples in his lilac robes, similar to those of his mother, but tailored snug to his frame. 

The next fifteen or so minutes are long and torturous as they wait for the charmed carriage to finish its parade through town and settle at the base of the castle steps. Felix holds his breath as Dragonborn soldiers brandish animal skin drums and hollowed out horns like weapons. From down at the docks, Felix was unable to make out anything more than simple shapes, but now, everything is so overwhelmingly close. 

As the soldiers begin to pound their drums and blow their horns, the doors of the carriage swing open softly to make way for their guests. The first to emerge is a young man, stoic and strong, but dressed in simple clothing bearing the Dragonborn colors. His hair is a fiery orange, paired with long, curved black horns—some draconic features are present in both dragon and Fae forms, so Felix has learned. When the stranger gets both feet on the ground, he quickly surveys the area, sharp eyes landing on Felix and his mother before turning over his shoulder and offering a hand to the next guest with a bow of his head.

Queen Chaeyoung of the Dragonborns is truly a sight to behold. Upon first glance, Felix is struck by her all-consuming presence, her aura dark and daunting like the blood red silks wrapped around her body. Her hair is short and obsidian black, cut just above her shoulders and styled around the dark crimson horns protruding elegantly from each temple. The horns are twisted around once and swept back in a way that brings out the cut angles of her face. Everything about her screams power, glory, victory, but the soft smile pulling at her lips as she looks around is hauntingly pleasant. She moves to the side and watches as one last person steps out of the carriage. 

Immediately, Felix knows it’s him. It doesn’t matter how vague and rushed the information he had been told about his betrothed was, Felix’s breath is pulled from his lungs in an instant.

With gunmetal gray horns that glint in the evening sunset and hair as black as his mother’s, Prince Chan of the Dragonborns clasps the other man on the shoulder and smiles blindingly as he readjusts the fabric of his tightly fit navy blue robes. His horns are sharp, curved up and away from his face, drawing attention to the intricate silver chain draped across both sides to rest prettily against the bridge of his nose. 

Felix is shaken from his reverie when Jisung places a hand on the small of his back and ushers him forward. It’s then that he sees his mother has already taken off down the steps to meet their guests halfway, leaving Felix behind looking dazed and confused. 

He collects himself with a subtle shake of his head and begins his descent, taking hesitant steps as he continues to steal small glances at the other prince. Felix wills himself to remain indifferent, even if the sight of Chan is the absolute last thing he ever expected.

The six of them meet on a landing halfway between the castle doors and the carriage at the bottom. Felix and his mother, with Jisung off to the side versus Queen Chaeyoung, Prince Chan, and what he assumes is his caretaker a few paces behind. A challenging stare-down of sorts takes place between the two queens, leaving Felix just the slightest bit nervous, but their calculated expressions are quickly replaced with polite grins. 

Ever the hospitable host, Felix’s mother is the first one to bow, a perfect ninety degree angle. “Queen Chaeyoung, Prince Chan,” she addresses them both. “The Fae Kingdom welcomes you with open arms and hopeful hearts.” 

Felix follows his mother’s lead and copies her bow with a hand over his heart. 

“There’s no need to bow in your own kingdom. Please, rise,” says a firm but cordial voice. 

Taken aback by the Dragonborn Queen’s insistent words, Felix straightens up slowly, followed by Jisung and his mother. From his right, he can see a flash of irritation on his mother’s face. Most likely due to the unintentional display of power Queen Chaeyoung has just played in the face of politeness. Nevertheless, both she, Prince Chan, and his caretaker bow in turn. 

“Right, right, of course,” Felix’s mother replies. “Let me introduce you to my son…” 

Felix tunes his mother out, securing a gentle smile on his lips as he drinks in more of the other prince up close. His eyes are the color of jade, the pupils small black slits in the fading sunlight. His entire frame, broad and carried with pride, is decorated with ornate chains and jewelry that coil around his arms and encircle his waist. On both hands are metal claws that rest over the tips of his fingers, connecting up to silver bangles around his wrists with crystal beaded chains. 

Prince Chan tilts his head when Felix’s eyes flit to his for a brief moment, causing the Fae prince to flush a warm pink. 

“...and this is his caretaker, Han Jisung. He’s not to leave my son’s side. That is, until the wedding of course.” 

Jisung bows again and voices his own official greeting before stepping further behind Felix. 

Queen Chaeyoung nods in acknowledgment and gestures to the young man on her son’s other side. “This is Lee Minho, caretaker to Prince Chan. You can expect the same from him.” 

After introductions, the royals from both kingdoms are ushered off to dinner, leaving Jisung and Minho to trail behind them. Felix throws a look over his shoulder at his friend, who gives him a big thumbs up and a stupid smile before returning to where he’s already conversing politely with the other caretaker. 

Nothing extraordinary takes place in the decorated dining hall. Both queens, seated across from each other, settle into their own after a few chalices of wine and appear to get along swimmingly. His mother dawns a serious face to explain the wedding traditions of their kingdom—that the grooms are not to be left alone until the night following their vows—to which Queen Chaeyoung hums and eyes her son until Chan clears his throat and bows his head with a firm Of course, Your Majesty. 

The wedding is set to take place in one week’s time. One week. The queens down more wine and boast about how lovely a couple their sons will make, how their union is just what their kingdoms need. 

Felix can’t help but disagree. 

It doesn’t matter that Queen Chaeyoung continues to shatter every stereotype placed on the Dragonborns with her soft voice and light, airy laugh, seemingly without a cruel bone in her body. She had commanded her soldiers and generals with grace and ease on their way to dinner, like a well oiled machine, fueled by trust and immense respect, not harsh threats and blinding fear. 

It doesn’t matter how easy-going Lee Minho is with Jisung, how they blend together seamlessly and talk the whole night away in the corner of the dining hall, stealing glances at their respective princes and grinning wide. On the way back to his room for the night, Minho bows to Felix kindly and shoots a wink Jisung’s way that makes the Water Fae blink owlishly, his pointed ears turning red.

It doesn’t matter how unfairly handsome Prince Chan proves to be—so much different from the picture Felix had created in his mind—or how warm he is towards everyone around him. Felix desperately wants to forget the pleasant chill that traveled down his spine when Chan pulled him to the side after dinner and held tender eye contact as he placed a lingering kiss to the back of Felix’s hand. 

It really shouldn’t matter.

<>

“You must be really stressed, huh? You haven’t made me brush your hair in years.”

Felix narrows his eyes at Jisung’s reflection in the floor length mirror, both their faces illuminated by the lanterns lining the walls. It’s true, once Felix reached a certain age, he found it ridiculous to keep making Jisung do things that he could easily do himself. But sometimes, little things like this, like having Jisung brush out his hair when he’s feeling overwhelmed, is exactly what Felix needs after a day like today. 

“If I think about the wedding for one more moment, I very well might implode,” Felix grumbles, wrinkling his nose when the comb gets caught on a small knot near his nape. Jisung just hums and continues his work, tongue between his teeth in concentration. 

Felix reaches for the chalice on his vanity and sighs when he sees it’s empty. “Could you?” he prompts, gesturing with his finger. 

Jisung doesn’t even blink as the chalice slowly fills up with water, stopping an inch before hitting the rim. Felix mumbles his thanks and raises the chalice to his lips, downing the entire thing in one long gulp and slumping back on his stool. 

He’s surprised by his friend’s next words. 

“They’re not that bad, don’t you think? Definitely not the brainless barbarians I was anticipating.” 

Images of the three Dragonborns flip through Felix’s mind like fluttering pieces of parchment. He frowns, picks at the skin of his pointer finger and curses himself for admitting it outloud. “No…no they’re not.” 

Jisung smiles and sets the comb down in favor of running his fingers through Felix’s hair, pushing the flyaway strands back off his forehead. “Prince Chan seems nice enough,” the Water Fae says. “Give it a few weeks and he’ll be wrapped around your finger.” 

Felix tries to picture it—having someone like Chan by his side indefinitely, probably until the day one of them passes on. It’s a morbid thought, but Felix is unable to see it in a better light. “That’s the thing, Sung. We don’t have a few weeks to give. We have one. One week until I’m married off to a man I know nothing about.” 

Pouting, Jisung crosses the room to one of Felix’s wardrobes, pulling it open and running his knuckles down the line of hanging garments. When he finds what he wants, he yanks the ensemble off a hook and lays it out neatly at the foot of Felix’s bed. 

Felix turns in his seat, tempted to tell his friend he doesn’t have to keep tending to him, but Jisung appears unbothered, seamlessly falling back into their old routine, so he keeps quiet. 

“I guess you’ll just have to spend a lot of time with him over the next couple of days,” Jisung says in a sing-song tone, shrugging his shoulders playfully and flopping down onto the sheets. If anyone saw the two of them like this, casual and friendly and carefree, Jisung would be fired for being unprofessional, maybe even banned from the castle, and Felix would receive nothing more than a slap on the wrist for allowing a lower Fae to behave so out of line. It had taken them a while to get to the point of being friends, but Felix treasures their relationship deeply, swears to protect Jisung if anything were to ever go awry. 

“With my mother breathing down my neck and guards in every corner?” Felix scoffs. “Doesn’t leave a lot of space to get to know someone.” 

Jisung hums, props himself up on one elbow and taps the tip of his nose in deep thought. “If only you had a way to meet in private. Say…with the help of your most trusted caretaker?”

“Absolutely not.” 

“And why’s that?”

“I’m not letting you put yourself on the line for me. Especially not for something as ridiculous as this,” Felix asserts. He stands with a huff and steps up to his bed, poking at the sleepwear picked out for him before stripping out of his robes. “I don’t even want to talk to him. He’s probably just as brainless and barbaric as you first thought.” 

“Pfft, I wouldn’t be doing it alone,” Jising corrects. When Felix eyes him warily, he continues, “I’d have help.” 

“From who?”

“Lee Minho.” 

Felix jolts, stuck with his arms in the air as he struggles to pull the thin nightshirt over his head. When he finally frees his limbs, he smooths out the fabric and stares at his friend with wild eyes. “What? It hasn’t even been six hours and you’re already strategizing with the enemy?”

“Well I wouldn’t exact call Minho the enemy, but we talked over dinner and—”

“No. No, no, no. Sung, you’re insane. That would be breaking tradition,” Felix rambles, shimmying his sleep shorts up his legs before pacing a line into the rug. “My mother would lose it! Do you know what could happen to you? To Minho? Well, I don’t really care about Minho, but you! You, Jisung! It’s not worth it.” 

Jisung cuts him off, his voice quiet, but filled with sincerity. “It would be worth it to see you happy.” 

Stopping in his tracks, Felix’s face softens, and he mellows out more when he meets Jisung’s wide eyes. 

“It’s not fun, in case you haven’t noticed,” his friend laments. “Watching my best friend get forced into marriage because of stupid royal obligations and knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” 

Felix is taken aback. “Jisung.” 

“At least this way I can help give you a chance. A chance to know this guy before it’s too late. Because if he turns out to be an asshole, I swear I won’t hesitate to throw him into the harbor and—”

“Jisung.” 

“—I’m not afraid. I’ll just grab him by the horns and—”

“Jisung.”

“Yes?”

Felix clambers onto the bed and pulls his friend into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling his face into his neck. The Water Fae is quick to calm down and wrap his arms around Felix’s waist, holding him just as tight and resting his chin atop Felix’s head. Both of their heart rates are high, beating in their chests with nerves, fear, and doubt. Felix selfishly never considered how his arranged marriage would affect Jisung, and now all the other wants to do is help him.

“I’ll be okay,” Felix lies. But he doesn’t think his words are entirely untrue. At this point, with what he’s seen of the Dragonborns in person, Felix isn’t sure how to feel one way or another. It was never an ideal fate to be married off to a stranger, but Felix isn’t weak, would never just lie down and take what was given. No matter who Prince Chan turns out to be, Felix won’t just roll over and submit. 

With one last squeeze around Jisung’s shoulders, Felix pulls away with a forced smile. “I can’t let you do that. You just have to trust me.”

Jisung returns his smile, albeit a little defeated. “I do trust you.” 

“Good.” Felix nods once and slaps Jisung’s thigh. “Now get out of my room. I’m exhausted.” 

Rolling his eyes goodnaturedly, Jisung slides off the bed with a groan. “Way to ruin the moment. You want the lights out?”

Felix opens his mouth to tell him he can do it, that it would only take him half a second, but Jisung is already walking the perimeter of the room and dousing the lanterns mounted on the walls with sprinkles of water from his fingertips.

“Goodnight, Felix,” he says on his way out the door. 

Felix whispers it back and waits until he can no longer hear Jisung’s footsteps down the hall. Now alone in the dark of his room, Felix feels small, swallowed up by the weight of the world around him. His throat is dry and no matter what he does, his tongue doesn’t sit right in his mouth. He debates sleep, whether or not he would be able to and whether or not it would be peaceful. 

Wishing he had asked Jisung for more water before he pushed him out, Felix tiptoes his way across the rug covered floor and grabs the chalice from his night table. He knows he could holler through his door and several different Water Fae would answer, eager to assist their crown prince, but Felix doesn’t think he would be able to fake a smile long enough to thank them. Instead, he tips the chalice back and lets the last few drops slide down his throat, committing the refreshing feeling to memory. 

He decides sleep is worth a try. 

But a noise has Felix freezing with the chalice still in hand. 

It’s an unusual sound, like muffled winds rushing past his ears, and it’s coming from outside his balcony. He sets the chalice down slowly and holds his left hand out, palm down. When he flips his wrist with a flourish, a small ball of light hovers above his open palm, just bright enough to illuminate his immediate surroundings. 

Felix shakes his fear away and steps towards the doors leading to his balcony. Sheer curtains blur the night outside, revealing only vague shapes on the other side. He sees his table with two chairs, the small lanterns charmed to never blow out, and the bed of flowers he and Jisung tend to every morning, but nothing else. For a moment, Felix wonders if he imagined the noise. It wouldn’t be a shock. With all the stress he’s been carrying around, it wouldn’t faze him if he sprouted a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other to bicker over his life choices.

But he knows he didn’t imagine it. Not when the shadow of a man, a man with horns, waltzes into view and jiggles the handle on one of the doors. Why would a Dragonborn be outside his room? Is a soldier snooping around where he shouldn’t be?

Felix gapes, astounded by the nerve of this man, and jumps forward to grab the handle from the inside. 

“All it takes is one scream from me and an army of guards will be at your throat,” he threatens through his teeth. 

The shadow steps back and raises one hand to rub the back of his neck. “Uhh…please don’t do that?”

Felix recognizes the voice, even if it’s not a familiar one yet. In a frenzy, he yanks the door open and steps out into the night. 

“What is wrong with you?” he hisses, eyes frantic as he surveys the man before him. 

Prince Chan stares back sheepishly, dressed in silk pajamas with the top held shut by a few buttons. The Dragonborn rights himself quickly, squaring his broad shoulders and slapping a lopsided smile onto his face. “Well, hello there.” 

“This is—you can’t—you’re not allowed to be here!” Felix looks around in search of guards that may be able to see onto his balcony. There are only a few out by the castle gates and a pair walking through the gardens below, but it’s enough to make Felix panic. Not thinking, he yanks Chan closer to his open door and waves away the ball of light in his hand. Chan stumbles into him, instinctually settling his hands on Felix’s waist to steady both of them, but he pulls back swiftly. 

Felix tenses when he hears a shout in the distance and drops to his knees. 

“Whoa, hey, uh—what are you—oof,” Chan fumbles his words, takes a large step away from the Fae on the ground in front of him before he’s tugged down too. 

“How did you get up here?” Felix whispers with haste. They should be completely out of sight in this position, but it’s not worth the risk to shout, no matter how badly Felix wants to scream in Chan’s face. 

Chan tilts his head, his horns highlighted by the moonlight, he looks confused. “I flew,” he says. 

“You—of course you did,” Felix huffs. “Because a flying dragon outside my window isn’t a good way to get both of us caught!”

“I’m very sneaky,” Chan whispers, appeasing Felix’s panicked state, but not necessarily taking him seriously. It’s absolutely infuriating. 

Felix is out of breath, both from exhaustion and sheer nerve-charged adrenaline. He cannot believe the stupidity of the man before him. Does Chan not understand the rules of his kingdom’s tradition? Did his mother not make it clear? They can’t be seen alone together under any circumstances, not until the vows have been spoken and the wine has been poured. Felix doesn’t believe anything truly bad will happen if they’re caught, but it would disappoint his mother greatly, and that’s not something he can mentally handle at the moment. 

“You need to leave. Right now,” Felix insists. Crouched down like this, they’re practically knee to knee, giving Felix a clear view of Chan’s perfectly sculpted bare face. The transition from Chan’s temples into his horns is gradual, speckling from soft tan skin to jagged edges. It almost looks as if cracks twist up the length of each horn from base to tip, but the lines are filled with silver, like marbled stone. The slits of his pupils are blown wide in the dark, making him look softer, more innocent. 

Felix averts his eyes.

Chan is much too handsome to be this close. 

“So you’re a Light Fae,” Chan says with interest, doing a damn good job of ignoring Felix’s warnings. “I wasn’t sure, considering you—”

Felix doesn’t even care at this point. He reaches out and flicks Chan once on the forehead.

The Dragonborn blinks at him in shock. “Ouch,” he mumbles, but doesn’t react more than that. 

“Why are you here? Did you already forget what my mother said?”

Chan’s crooked smile is back, revealing his slightly pointed teeth. “Don’t worry. I didn’t forget,” he whispers dramatically. Felix rolls his eyes. “I just chose not to listen.” 

“Go back to your room.” 

“I could,” Chan ponders, “but I’d much rather stay here with you.” 

Felix moves to flick Chan in the forehead again, but the other sees it coming this time and bats Felix’s hand away. “You can’t. My mother will kill you.” 

She wouldn’t, for the record, but Chan doesn’t have to know that.

“She’d have to catch me first.” 

“I cannot believe I have to marry you in a week.” 

Felix bites the inside of his cheek as soon as the words leave his mouth. A slip of the tongue, nothing more, but Chan’s expression shifts from playful to guarded as he leans back to rest on his hands. His shirt slips off one shoulder, revealing tan skin and a smattering of little scales that match the color of his horns. Felix keeps his eyes there so he doesn’t have to look at Chan’s face. 

“Forgive me for wanting to know you better before then,” Chan mumbles, attention keenly on the stitching of his pants. 

Felix sighs. He knows how Chan feels. And he realizes, if they have anything in common, anything at all, it’s this. Chan put on a convincing show at dinner, leading everyone to believe—even Felix—that he was perfectly comfortable with having his whole future planned out for him. The noble prince is charming, confident, surely destined to be a powerful leader. At least that’s what Felix was told. 

Looking at him now, Chan just looks tired. 

“We can’t. Not like this,” Felix whispers. 

Chan tilts his head, seems to snap out of something, and then he’s hopping onto his feet and pulling Felix up with him. “Then I look forward to talking at breakfast, Your Highness.” Felix is spun around on his heels and guided back into his room. He’s relieved that Chan has finally gained some sense, but he turns to face the other again before the door shuts behind him. 

“How will you get down?”

“Worried about me, are you?” Chan smirks. 

Felix bristles indignantly. “Not particularly. I just don’t want the guards to see.” 

Chan sneaks a glance over the edge of the balcony and counts the number of guards he spots on his fingers. “I’ll get down the same way I came up. Meant it when I said it—I’m very sneaky.” 

“Right.” 

“Turn around,” Chan says, gesturing with a finger. He starts to roll his shoulders back and crack his neck from side to side, as if he’s preparing his body to do something extravagant. A seed of curious anticipation sprouts in Felix’s mind. Is Chan going to shift? Right here? He wonders what Chan looks like in his dragon form, whether he’s the creature of so many Fae’s nightmares; a mighty beast or terrifying demon. 

But Chan stares back at Felix when he notices the Fae hasn’t moved and he clicks his tongue. “No peeking.” 

The guards exchange greetings in the distance, possibly switching shifts for the night. Felix decides his curiosity is not worth keeping Chan here any longer, so he eyes the Dragonborn once last time and shuts the door. 

He beelines for his bed and nuzzles his head into his pillows with his eyes squeezed shut, willing his brain to erase the last five minutes of his life. A rustle, followed by the same noise that had startled Felix earlier rushes through his ears. He pictures a silvery gray dragon with tremendous wings cutting through the air and he falls asleep. 

At breakfast the next morning, Chan and Felix fail to get a single word in around the queens as they gush over wedding plans. When Felix catches the eyes of both Jisung and Minho, who stare back expectantly, he nods once in defeat, twice with more confidence and mouths Okay, let’s do it.  

<>

As it turns out, Jisung and Minho’s plan is rather underwhelming. The two caretakers will keep watch while Chan and Felix spend time alone; Minho in his dragon form from atop the highest point of the castle—insisting he won’t get caught—and Jisung from in the hallway outside Felix’s quarters. It’s simple and predictable, but it just might work. At the end of the night, Jisung leaves Felix’s room with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a promise to stay close.

When Chan gently knocks on Felix’s balcony doors not half an hour after the castle goes dark, Felix jumps up from his bed, twirls a small ball of light between his fingertips and twists the knob open. The air is colder tonight. Felix is dressed in a long-sleeved button up nightshirt and wool lined pants to combat the chill, but Chan comes only clad in cotton shorts and a light undershirt. 

“Hi,” Felix greets, keeping low until he can sit on the ground with his back close to the door. He bends his knees and wraps his arms around his legs, shivering along with the breeze. 

Chan follows his lead and sprawls out on the ground, leaning against the stone wall of the balcony ledge opposite Felix and stretches his legs in front of him. His smile is slight when he says, “Hi.” 

And then it’s silent for far too long. Neither of them try to force eye contact. Instead they devote their attention everywhere else; on the stone floor, on the stars in the sky, on the rapid beating of their hearts. The atmosphere is different than it was last night, but that’s to be expected, Felix supposes. They came here to talk, to fill in the blanks about themselves that have been left empty in their heads. Now that he’s here, Felix just doesn’t know where to begin. 

Chan cracks his fingers one by one and Felix watches how his rings catch the light of the lanterns. His own little ball of light is merely a distraction now, something to weave through his own fingers. Felix frowns when Chan continues on to stretch his wrists, his shoulders and neck, twists his torso to crack his back. Each time a new bone pops, Chan grimaces. 

“Are you in pain?” Felix asks. 

Chan shakes his head. “No, no. Just stretching. Muscles always feel a little tight after shifting.” 

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you ask me to turn around? When you left last night?” 

The question is perhaps what has weighed the most on Felix all day. It came off as strange. A Dragonborn not eager to flaunt their scales and sharp teeth. His thoughts jump to Minho, who’s perched on the rooftop, just sitting there where anyone can spot him. If Minho has no issue being out in the open like that, why would Chan be so guarded?

Chan raises his eyes from where they’ve been burning holes in the floor. He clears his throat. Shrugs. “S’not something I wanted you to see.”

“Which is what?” Felix pushes. He’s not dumb, but he’s curious to see what Chan says.

“My dragon.” His tone shifts from timid to teasing. “Wouldn’t want to scare you off, now would I?” 

Felix narrows his eyes. “I’m not scared.” 

“No?” Chan asks, tilting his head to the side and crossing his arms over his wide chest. Felix swallows hard as he watches the muscles in Chan’s biceps tense and shift. “Have you ever seen a dragon before?”

Felix shakes his head. “Not beyond the drawings in our textbooks.” 

“Drawings,” Chan repeats, thoughtful. “Not quite the same.” Then he nods to Felix’s fingers. “I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” 

“Do what? This?” Felix raises his hand between them and splits the ball of light into two. Each orb reflects off of Chan’s wide eyes, who’s leaning in slowly, face open and sweet with interest. A lick of confidence makes Felix sit up straighter, his own body naturally swaying forward. He bites his lip in concentration and sends the spheres dancing through the air, creating intricate patterns between them before circling Chan’s horns and slowing down to rest just in front of his nose.

“Wow,” Chan laughs breathily, eyes bright and filled with wonder. “Amazing. You’re amazing.” 

Felix blushes red and extinguishes the light before Chan can notice. He then flattens his back against the cold glass door, searching for something to ground him. “It’s nothing special. Any Light Fae can do it.” 

Chan hums disapprovingly. “It’s special to me. Dragonborns can’t do anything like that.” 

“You breathe fire, don’t you?” 

“Well, yes,” the other says. “But we aren’t able to control it beyond aiming at something and hoping it lands.” 

Felix laughs at that and fails to hold back his toothy smile, but he decides it’s worth it to see Chan’s little lopsided grin in return. 

<>

“Tell me more about your people.” 

“My people?”

“The Dragonborns. I want to learn.” 

It’s already the next night, and it had been a long day of pleasing his mother with impeccable fake smiles and played up enthusiasm. Felix and Chan were immediately rushed off to separate tailors to be fitted for their wedding attire after breakfast and barely spoke more than a few simple pleasantries at dinner. 

Now they sit in the same spots as yesterday outside Felix’s room, but their legs are crossed in front of them and their toes are mere inches apart, sharing small anecdotes about Felix’s home and memories that only scratch the surface of each other’s lives.

Chan rests his head against the stone wall behind him and tilts his face towards the sky, looking wistful. “I’m not even sure where to begin. We’re loud, stubborn, opinionated, feared by most, more often than not a fire hazard—” 

Felix snorts.

“—but we’re also fiercely loyal and protective of our own, skilled fighters, fantastic flyers…” he trails off, eyes falling on Felix. “We’ve come a long way, thanks to my mother.” 

“What do you mean?” Felix asks, stumped by the other’s statement.

“I’m sure it’s all in your textbooks,” Chan says, voice bitter, but his gaze is cloudy, ashamed. “My father was a ruthless man up until the day he died. He cared about very few things; power and control. We became a feared kingdom because we feared him. And now my mother is trying to undo all the harm he caused.” 

Felix can feel how heavy his heart weighs in his chest, not knowing what to say.

Chan cards a hand through his dark hair, traces a finger over the base of one horn, and forces a self-deprecating snicker, one that fills Felix with unease. 

“I’ve never had any desire to lead a kingdom. Let alone two,” he pauses, grits his teeth. “Many pray I never become King. Afraid I’ll turn out just like my father.” 

Guilt flushes over Felix. He’s heard the whispers in the castle halls for months, fearful voices expressing the same worries Chan just acknowledged. He felt that same fear, wondering if he had a fighting chance for power against his betrothed. But that was before he ever met Chan.

“So you don’t want to lead.” Felix means it more as a question, but his tone falls flat. When Chan solemnly shakes his head in answer, pieces of his hair fall down to hide his eyes. Felix stares, filing through his brain for the right thing to say. Never did he expect a Dragonborn to shy away from ruling a kingdom, but Chan’s hesitation bleeds into fear, into doubt and worry. 

And, well. Felix can’t have that. 

“That’s really too bad,” he says, meeting Chan’s shocked gaze with fiery eyes. “My people deserve a strong leader just as much as your people deserve a peaceful one. The responsibility is ours, not yours or mine alone.” 

Chan blinks once, tilts his head with a shadow of a grin.

Felix nudges Chan’s foot with his own. 

“We’ll do it together.”

<>

On the third night, Chan lets Felix touch his horns. The Fae ghosts the tips of his shaking fingers over scaled edges, his lips parted in awe as he traces one from its point all the way down to where it melts into skin at Chan’s temple. Felix brushes a few strands of hair off Chan’s forehead absentmindedly and flushes when the other leans into it. 

“They’re, uh, bigger than I thought they’d be. When I pictured you in my head,” Felix mutters, scrambling for words. He cringes at himself inwardly for his blatant awkwardness. 

Chan, close enough to press his knees against Felix’s thigh, huffs softly through his nose. “You thought of me?”

“Did you not think of me?” Felix asks. 

“I never said that.” 

Felix tries not to think about how they’ve been sitting here for hours, inching closer and closer with each new story shared. He could recount most of Chan’s life with ease by now, from every precious childhood memory and bittersweet lesson learned to the more sinister recollections of his father. When Chan talks—especially when he gets excited—his pupils dilate ever so slightly and he shakes his hands in tiny happy fists. Felix keeps his fondness at bay, afraid to show too much to someone he swore would bring him nothing but dread. 

Truth is though, he hasn’t thought that way since the very first moment he saw the Dragonborns on his castle steps. It’s jarring, really. Being proven wrong is normally not something he likes to admit. 

But Chan is…something else. 

“Tell me then,” Felix insists. “What did you picture?” 

Chan looks at Felix through his lashes, chin down, lips softly curled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?” the Fae counters, surprised by his own boldness. A shiver dances down his spine in anticipation, but his eyes remain set on Chan’s. 

Chan ponders for a moment, taking his sweet time calculating an answer, but Felix can tell he’s playing it up on purpose. Nerves fill his stomach, imagining himself in Chan’s place. What would he hope his Fae betrothed to be if the tables were reversed? Of all the creatures in their realm, Fae are undoubtedly the most diverse. Derived from the elements and chained to very few specific physical features, it would be near impossible to visualize a single one and strike out.

Felix supposes he lucked out in a sense. The Dragonborns have their stereotypes; broad, strong, and sharp around the edges. But even if Chan was all of those things, he was still so very wrong. 

“Seeing as I wasn’t even told what kind of Fae you were until I saw you myself, I had no real expectations,” Chan says. He chuckles when Felix pouts at his vague answer. “I’m serious! I only really hoped for someone kind and intelligent. Perhaps with a sense of humor if the gods were feeling merciful.” 

Both of them were truly thrown into their futures blindfolded, never asked if it was something they wanted, only praised for doing good by their people and pulled along for the ride. Bitterness swims in Felix’s stomach as he tiptoes around the idea of love, of marrying someone he chose for himself and no one else. He was raised with love by his mother, but Felix has never known what it feels like outside of that context.

At Felix’s lack of response, Chan clears his throat and leans back, pushing on. “Alright, your turn. What did you hope for?” 

Hope wasn’t in Felix’s vocabulary when he pictured the Dragonborn. Shame clutches him tightly when he realizes Chan hadn’t mentioned a single thing about what he imagined Felix would look like, but that’s all Felix had thought about; brutish, threatening, and war-torn. 

“Ah, quite the same. Smart, nice, funny,” he says rather ineloquently. 

Before Chan can respond, loose pebbles and a smattering of dust slide off the overhang of the balcony, the stones heaving under a sudden bout of pressure. Felix startles, nails scraping against the floor and blood pumping quickly in his veins. He looks to Chan with wide eyes, but the other just sighs as if only mildly perturbed.

“Turn away. Right now,” Chan says gently in a hush. Felix does so without thinking, his trust blind, and curses himself for it.

Behind him, it sounds as if the castle is creaking, struggling to hold whatever it is that’s sitting on top of it. Something hard digs into stone, filling the air with a skin-tingling scrape. Felix’s heart is in his throat. His palms sweat. He’s torn between turning around or locking himself inside.

But Chan’s voice is casual when he whispers again, walking the line of playful. “What are you doing? You think this is funny?” A deep rumble rattles in Felix’s ear. “Oh, you do? The guards could see you, you idiot. Go on,” Chan sighs. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

Who is he talking to?

Felix reaches for one handle of his door. 

“What? No. He’s not ready yet.” 

He pauses. 

“You really think your dragon, of all dragons, is the first one he should see? Minho, no offense, but you even scare me sometimes. That’s a genuinely horrible idea.” 

Felix steps away from the door, not yet turning around. 

“Seriously, go away. And quit looking at me like th—”

“I want to see,” Felix says, just loud enough for the other two to hear. Minho—Minho in his dragon form—huffs in what sounds like approval. 

“Felix, I really don’t think—” 

“I–I have to get used to it at some point, right? Hundreds of Dragonborns will be flying over my head in less than a week. Best to start now.” Felix hates that his voice is shaking. He takes another step back.

Chan sighs, shuffling his feet. “I’m not going to be able to say no to you, am I?” he mumbles to himself. Then louder, “Okay, alright, just–hold on a second.” 

A warm hand presses against Felix’s lower back, just above the waistband of his pants. Chan’s palm is wide, his fingers long enough to curl around the edge of Felix’s hip, and it melts away Felix’s anxious second thoughts. “Don’t forget, it’s just Minho,” Chan says. 

With Chan by his side, Felix turns around. 

The first thing he sees is red. Crimson, scarlet, bloody red with thin black slits running through it. Minho’s glowing eyes bore into Felix from his upside down position, small in comparison to the rest of him, but all encompassing. The dragon’s body is mostly hidden by the overhang, just his head, clawed hands, and the tips of his wings can be seen from where Felix stands, but the sight still makes the Fae falter enough that Chan notices, his grip tightening. 

Minho’s scales are black, but they reflect amber oranges and yellow ocres in the subtle lamplight. His mouth is cracked open a few inches, revealing jagged rows of blade-like teeth and a hint of his forked black tongue. Large pointed scales and spines jut out from around his gently curved horns and the sides of his face, continuing down his spine until they disappear behind stone. The claws on his hands are chillingly sharp as they dig into the castle wall, keeping him perched in his hanging state. 

Felix understands what Chan means, Minho is nothing short of a nightmare. 

From sheer size alone—based on what he can see—Minho could send a battalion of soldiers running for the hills in an instant, further justifying their power and victory in battle. But there’s something about recognizing who it is behind those deadly eyes, knowing them in their Fae form, that sweeps most of Felix’s fear away. 

“You’re incredible,” Felix says, awestruck and trembling. 

Minho blows thin tendrils of smoke out through his nostrils, eyes flickering to Chan. 

“He says ‘thank you’,” Chan replies. 

“So, you can talk to each other. Even when in different forms?”

Chan contemplates his answer. “Something like that. I’ve known Minho since he was born. We’ve grown up together. That certainly helps too.” 

Minho stretches out his neck, shakes his head as if ruffling feathers, and suddenly he’s much closer. His entire head is the size of Felix’s upper half, surely able to rip him apart with a single bite. The top of his dark wings come more into view too, covered in thin leathery skin and armed with serrated bones at the end of each joint. 

Felix reaches a hand out without thinking. Minho’s throat grumbles. 

“He’s not a fan of touch,” Chan warns, kindly wrapping his fingers around Felix’s wrist and lowering it. “Maybe in the future.” 

“Sorry,” Felix says dumbly. Minho eyes him swiftly and huffs again. 

“We really should go,” Chan urges. “Don’t want to get caught.” 

“Right. Yes, of course.” Felix watches as Minho pulls back and away, his horns just grazing the top of the balcony ledge. Felix’s awareness comes rushing back to him and he puts distance between himself and Chan, stepping towards his room. “I–I’ll see you in the morning. Minho,” the dragon shifts his eyes to him, “thank you. You’re terrifying. And absolutely stunning.” 

Minho rumbles, pleased. Felix lets out a breathy laugh. Chan walks toward the ledge. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll turn around,” Felix teases, cutting the other off before he gets the chance to say it.

It feels silly to do so after being face-to-face with Minho, but Chan flushes and a dimple appears in his cheek. From inside his room, Felix listens to them fly off, his heart swooping in his chest. 

<>

“Common misconception about Fire Fae,” Felix begins in a whisper, kneeling beside Chan on the balcony as they peek over the railing. “They don’t actually create fire, they can only manipulate it.” 

Chan hums in interest and nods once. Their shoulders are pressed flush against one another, Felix’s slim build next to Chan’s broader one. The Dragonborn is hot, like an open flame, but Felix isn’t pulling away, hasn’t thought of doing so once since Chan appeared for his nightly visit. 

Two more sunrises remain until the day of their wedding. It weighs on Felix’s mind still, but not in the way it had before. 

“And while fire isn’t the same as light-–for example, my light has no heat to it—I can still manipulate the light that fire produces.” Felix zeros in on the two guards patrolling through the garden below. The path they’re on is lined with lit torches hanging from metal posts, illuminating the lush array of exotic plants and flowers on either side of them. He’s familiar with the two Fae; both males, one of fire, the other ice. A rush of adrenaline fills his chest. “Watch closely.” 

With a crook of his finger, Felix steals the light from a handful of torches surrounding the guards and condenses it into the size of a pebble before beckoning it to him. Now shrouded in darkness, both Fae freeze in place, heads swiveling around in every direction in search of the disturbance. The Ice Fae reaches for his weapon before a look of unamused realization crosses his face. 

“Real funny, Seungmin,” the Ice Fae says, cocking a hip to the side and crossing his arms. “Turn the lights back on.” 

Chan and Felix snicker from above.

Seungmin sends the other a glare. “I didn’t turn them off, Hyunjin.” 

“Are you trying to get back at me for freezing your lunch? I already told you it was an accident!” Hyunjin pouts.

“You sneezed and turned my soup into a popsicle.”

“And I humbly apologize. Now snap your fingers and bring the fire back.” 

As the two guards continue to bicker, Felix plays with the pebble of light in his hand. Chan chokes on a laugh when Hyunjin sneezes—allergies maybe?—and freezes Seungmin’s foot to the ground. The Fire Fae curses and pulls flames from a far away torch to begin melting it as Hyunjin apologizes profusely. 

Chan’s breath fans Felix’s pointed ear. “Aw, come on. Help them out.” 

Felix flicks his eyes to Chan and smiles devilishly. “If you say so.” 

He splits the tiny ball of light into five equal parts and sends them sailing back to their respective torches, but when they reunite with the black flames, Felix snaps his fingers and expands each orb with a blinding whoosh bright enough to make Chan squint and cover his eyes. The guards yelp and flail about until Felix reigns the light in, and soon they’re settling back into their petty whisper-yelling. 

A happy bark of a laugh slips out of Chan before he can cover his mouth. Felix gasps and tugs them both down and away from the ledge to evade the Fae below. 

“Shhh!” Felix scolds playfully, barely keeping a lid on his own amused giggling. 

Sorry, Chan mouths with a cringe, hunkering down low and biting into his lip. 

They stare at each other, chests heaving and breathless, little laughs spilling over and igniting the space between them. Felix clutches his stomach, sore from holding back, and rests his head against the stone wall of the balcony ledge. Their mirth bounces off one another, subconsciously bringing them closer together until Felix can feel Chan’s warm puffs of breath on his nose. 

It’s silent. The surrounding air is charged with something new, something unexpected and strange. 

Chan’s upper lip twitches. 

Felix bites his tongue. 

And then they’re laughing again, unable to stop themselves, falling into each other for something to grab onto. It’s not even that funny, Felix thinks, definitely not worth getting caught over. But Chan’s laugh—albeit quiet and now muffled by Felix’s shoulder—is so bright in the darkness of the night, filled with enough unadulterated joy that for a moment, Felix forgets everything. He forgets who they are and what they represent. He forgets their responsibilities as heirs to a throne. He forgets the wedding and all the building pressures that come with it. 

Felix forgets every doubt in his mind. Every fear and worry. 

Soft lips brush against his shoulder. The edge of a twisted horn grazes his cheek. Chan pulls back, sheepish and warm, and flushes a pleasant peachy hue. Cool green eyes meet blue, thin slitted pupils clash with blown out pools of black. 

Felix forgets, and instead, he lets Chan brush their noses together. 

He lets Chan grip his waist with one hand and rest the other on his knee, carefully, tenderly, as if he’s afraid to hurt him. 

He closes his eyes when Chan’s lips ghost over his own, full and plush and hesitant. Felix holds his breath and waits, skin tingling under each point of contact. His mind is quiet, his hands are shaking, but Chan finally kisses him and Felix can’t help but sigh into it, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

Their lips meet once, twice, sweet in a way that makes Felix shiver. Chan notices and runs his thumb along the thin material of Felix’s night shirt, right over the soft skin of his belly. Sweet is really the only word for it. No heat, no rush, just smooth, languid movements as they map out the shape of each other’s lips, committing each new pleasant discovery to memory. 

Felix feels silly with his hands in his lap. He wills one hand of trembling fingers forward, blind in his reach, and lands on the collar of Chan’s shirt. The Dragonborn hums low in his throat when Felix’s fingers tighten there, sending vibrations tumbling down his arm. Chan is gentle and kind, insistent but not in a way that makes Felix uneasy. He kisses Felix like he’s golden, like he doesn’t want to miss a single moment, like Felix is made of honey and it’s Chan’s favorite taste.

It dawns on Felix that he’s never been kissed like this before. Not in the way that makes him feel warmth in the pit of his stomach. He’s shared innocent kisses with Jisung, just to see what it was like, but they were just that; innocent and friendly with no hidden meaning behind them. Felix has never had the opportunity to be with someone like this, not as the crown prince, not when he’s always doted on and in the public eye. 

He wonders if his inexperience is evident in the way he kisses, if Chan can tell just how unsure his movements are. A breathy noise slips past his lips and he flushes as it rings heavy in his ears, but Chan only grips Felix tighter, responds with a broken moan that makes Felix’s hips ache. 

And then he realizes how much he’s shaking, quivering like a leaf in Chan’s hold. 

Felix pulls back, eyes wide and cheeks aflame. Chan’s eyes fly open and he rights himself, his quizzical gaze searching Felix’s face for something, anything. But Felix can feel his panic settling in, a bubble of doubt sinking to the bottom of his heart and popping, splattering his once calm mind with repeated thoughts of What am I doing?

Chan gulps. “Uh—”

“Why did you do that?”

Confusion bleeds into Chan’s eyes, flashing once with something Felix doesn’t catch. “I’m–uh, I’m sorry I—”

“We shouldn’t have done that.” Felix pushes himself away, feeling strange and cold and torn in two. Should he have let that happen? After knowing someone for just a few days? He feels ridiculous for thinking so, he’s an adult, it’s perfectly valid to do such a thing. Nevermind the fact he’ll be married to Chan in two days time. They’ll be husbands, expected to tolerate each other and share simple affections to appease their people. 

But this wasn’t a simple kiss, nor an act put on in front of others. Felix wanted it, he did, he can’t deny that. The kiss was good, great even to Felix’s standards, but looking at Chan now, with his worried eyes and pink lips, Felix feels like such a fool. All that time he spent dreading Chan’s arrival, to then be face to face with someone so sweet, someone just as nervous about their arrangement, it fills Felix with a sticky kind of shame. 

“It’s late,” he says, before Chan can utter another word. “Early morning tomorrow.” Felix shuffles to his feet and beelines for the door, eyes downcast so he doesn’t have to see Chan’s pinched brow, the way he’s wringing his hands in his lap. 

“Felix—”

“Goodnight, Chan.” 

<>

The next night, Felix sits in bed, eyes searching for Chan’s familiar shadow through the balcony door, ears straining to hear the telltale sound of monstrous wings slicing through the night air.

Chan doesn’t come.

<>

If it wasn’t for the reassuring grip Jisung had on Felix’s arm, he’s sure he’d be a puddle on the floor. They stand behind heavy double doors lined with rose gold trim, closed until it’s time for Felix to make his grand entrance. 

He’s dressed in one of the outfits that was tailored for him earlier in the week. Soft oranges and yellows, wrapped in strips of silk around his arms and chest, leaving his midriff bare except for thin chains of gold. His pants are cinched at the waist, but loose everywhere else, adorned with cutouts over his hip bones and calves. It’s revealing, very different from what Felix is used to wearing, but right now, his clothes are the least of his concern.

“The wedding isn’t until tomorrow,” Jisung whispers teasingly next to him, dressed up in sleek black robes for the occasion. “Quit your shaking.” Felix digs his nails into Jisung’s bicep. The Water Fae winces. “Seriously, what’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you so nervous to greet the elders.” 

Felix’s brain feels like mush, exhausted and running on sheer willpower alone. Behind the door await dozens of Fae, all of them old and stuck up and boring, but Jisung is right, Felix has never faltered in front of his kingdom’s elders. He’s grown up around them, seen them every time the castle held a banquet or ball, taught to always seek their approval. 

But it’s not the elders he’s worried about. It’s the addition of the Dragonborns sprinkled in among the crowd; it’s Queen Chaeyoung; it’s Chan. 

“Have you spoken with Minho at all today?” Felix asks, eyes focused straight ahead, daring the doors to open. 

When Chan didn’t show up last night, Felix eventually caved and rushed into the hallway to find Jisung, propped against the wall, spooked from sleep and just as confused when Felix told him of Chan’s absence. 

Except Felix isn’t confused, he knows why Chan didn’t come to see him. 

It’s because you’re a fool. 

You embarrassed yourself. 

And then you pushed him away. 

“I’ve been with you all day,” Jisung answers, casting Felix a sideways glance. “I assume Minho has been doing the same with Prince Chan in preparation for the banquet.” 

Of course Jisung is making perfect sense, maintaining his cool after the both of them rambled off their frustrations all through the night. Jisung, distressed that Minho had been cold towards him the entire day prior, not able to fathom why—something the Light Fae found rather interesting, but chose not to comment on. Felix, rattled because he was most likely the cause.

He couldn’t find the courage to tell his friend what had happened between him and Chan. 

Then Jisung had asked him if things were okay, if he was still scared, if the late night meetings were helping. Felix smiled and said yes, held Jisung’s hand and pretended he didn’t completely poison the progress they’d made.

Both he and Jisung flinch when the heavy double doors are pushed open from the inside, parting to reveal a hushed room filled with peering eyes. Jisung straightens his spine and adjusts his arm, holding it out for Felix to loop his own arm around. The first few steps are hesitant, unsure, but Felix tightens his grip and puts on his best smile, plastic and practiced and enough to please the crowd. 

He spots Chan, surrounded by a trio of Fae on the other side of the room, standing tall and proper, laughing at jokes for the sake of being polite. The Dragonborn is mesmerizing; dressed in deep red damask silks tailored to his frame, plunging to reveal the smooth skin of his chest. Silver chains cross over his face and circle his neck, resting delicately in the pools of his collarbones. 

Their gazes meet. Chan’s pupils dilate, eyes painted in shades of gray and carmine, and then he’s lowering his head in a bow, some around him cooing at the gesture, others eyeing Chan’s horns cautiously, hiding their vague disdain behind close-minded masks. Felix keeps his expression clinical, bows in turn, but he knows the tips of his ears are tinged red. 

What feels like hours pass by as he makes small talk with Fae and Dragonborns alike. Their words are shallow and repetitive, but Felix grins and nods and gnaws on the inside of his cheek every time someone praises him for serving his kingdom and protecting his people. His mother joins him for a few conversations, a proud sparkle in her eye every time he looks at her, but her attention is whisked away eventually. 

At one point, Jisung starts to fidget next to him, still ordered to stay by Felix’s side, but his attention floats above the crowd, always falling back on one specific point across the room. Felix doesn’t blame him, aside from the trays of h'orderves charmed to float through the air and the flutes of champagne that never empty, the atmosphere is dull, boring, bland.

It’s when Felix finally gets his first moment to breathe, led to a corner and away from the crowd by Jisung, that Chan appears. 

“Your Highness,” the Dragonborn Prince greets. The stark contrast between the Chan before him now and the Chan he’s gotten to know in private is evident in the way he carries himself. Shoulders squared, chin high, dressed in jeweled garments and wrapped in silver chains; a thin veil over the easygoing, pink cheeked, naturally lighthearted man Felix has grown so fond of.

“Prince Chan,” Felix acknowledges, searching for the right words. Something neutral, something safe. “I trust you’re enjoying your night so far?”

Chan hums, tilts his head in a way that sends goosebumps down Felix’s arms. He takes a small step back, subconsciously reaching towards Jisung in search of reassurance, but he’s met with nothing. With a subtle glance over his shoulder, he sees Jisung has vanished. Traitor.

“I want to show you something.”

Felix’s attention snaps back to Chan and his breath quickens. “Right now?”

Chan surveys the room quickly before circling Felix’s wrist with gentle fingers, eyes wide and alert. “Come with me.” 

Felix swallows his apprehension, is about to say more when a loud clamber sounds off towards the middle of the room. There Jisung stands, comically sheepish and apologetic as he and Minho bend down to pick up a fallen tray of desserts. The surrounding Fae grumble with distaste, making Felix wince.

“Oh my! How clumsy of me!” the Water Fae rambles, words forced and acted out with flair. Next to him, Minho straightens up in his dark purple robes with the tray, but he teeters on his feet and sends the plate careening back down with another clatter. 

“Can’t believe they actually did it,” Chan whispers, biting back an amused laugh. “Come on, come on.”

Bewildered, Felix ducks behind the nearest door, hot on Chan’s heels. “Did you put them up to this?” he asks. 

Chan’s smile is crooked and so incredibly charming. “Of course.” 

It’s confusing to Felix, how Chan can continue to smile and play around after Felix practically shoved him away. Maybe their kiss didn’t mean as much to him as it did to Felix. Maybe he’s doing the right thing by trying to be polite and forgetting the way Felix trembled under his hands. 

No staff members wander the halls, all of them busy tending to the banquet and guarding the doors. The long corridors are eerie in their silence aside from the hollow echo of his and Chan’s footsteps, bouncing off the marble walls and humming low in their ears. Felix follows Chan blindly, forgetting for a moment he’s in his own castle as the Dragonborn expertly turns corners and climbs empty staircases. 

Chan slows when they reach a doorway, one that Felix knows leads to an outdoor walkway, a bridge connecting one tower to another. Shouldering it open, Chan pulls Felix into the night, stone and brick illuminated only by the moon. The bridge faces open water on one side and faraway mountains on the other. It’s cold, but not unpleasantly so, just enough to nip into Felix’s bare skin. He takes a step back. 

Felix has never found pleasure in the dark; he was born of light and sun, made to thrive during the brightest of days.

But Chan glows in the nighttime. 

And Felix can’t look away. 

“Chan, I—” his words catch in his throat when the other meets his gaze. The moonlight shines on him so wonderfully, brighter than the sun ever could, and Felix is filled with a strange sense of peace. “I’m sorry.” 

“That’s not why I brought you here, Felix,” Chan says, eyes turned to the sky. 

The Fae frowns. His guilt grows, desperate to do something to ease the tension he feels. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” 

“It’ll have to wait,” Chan says with a grunt. In one deft movement he hauls himself to stand on the stone railing of the bridge, toes hanging over the edge, twisting his torso in a stretch. “Do you trust me?” 

Felix rushes forward on instinct, eyes wide with fear, hands gripping tightly onto Chan’s pant leg. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” he hisses. His heart is in his throat, too focused on Chan’s sudden death wish to allow room for any common sense. 

“Do you trust me?” Chan asks again, tone cautious, but lined with hope. 

“Yes,” Felix blurts before he can think, two seconds away from digging his nails into Chan’s calf. “Yes, I do. Now get down!” 

Chan laughs lightly and a sly smirk pulls at his lips. 

“Be right back.” 

And he steps off the bridge. 

Felix gasps, blood turning to ice in his veins, but almost immediately, a familiar sound fills his ears, and the Fae curses lightly under his breath. “Right. You can fly.” 

And then he feels lightheaded, heart fluttering with the promise of finally seeing Chan in his draconic form. Felix spins in a circle, surveying the sky for any sign of the dragon—not that he has any idea what he’s looking for. The wind picks up with a fervor, spurred on by grandiose wings slicing through the air, whipping Felix’s hair around his face and sending him scrambling towards the railing for something to hold onto. He stills when what can only be knife-like claws grip into stone from over his shoulder.

Images of Minho hanging from his balcony flash behind his eyes. There’s undoubtedly a dragon behind him, but this time, it’s Chan. 

Heat grazes the back of Felix’s neck like tendrils of smoke dancing along his skin. When Chan huffs and rumbles deep in his chest—timbre darker and richer than Minho’s—it sends a vibration through the stone and up into Felix’s feet. 

He can’t help but laugh, just a little chuckle, stunned with the realization that this is his life now. Chan is his life now. Well, at least part of it. 

So Felix steels himself, blinks away the dryness in his eyes from the wind, and turns his head to the side, slowly, until he can see the tips of silvery wings. Chan huffs again, and Felix is inclined to think it’s laced with impatience, but then he remembers something Chan had said to him. 

Wouldn’t want to scare you off, now would I?

Felix isn’t afraid, especially not of Chan. He was sure he proved that when he met Minho’s dragon, but he can feel the nervous energy radiating off the other without even looking at him. Felix flips through everything he’s come to learn about Chan like pages in a book, filled with precious memories and vulnerable moments. 

Many pray I never become King. Afraid I’ll turn out just like my father. 

We became a feared kingdom because we feared him. 

No, Felix isn’t afraid. Not of Chan or any other Dragonborn. And if he has to fight for days, months, years until his people throw their fears aside, until the whispers in the castle hallways cease and the apprehensive stares melt away into trust and respect, then so be it. He’ll do it for Chan. 

He’ll do it for both of them. 

Because they’ll be married come morning, promised to each other. And Felix isn’t scared anymore. 

He turns around completely, confidently, and sucks in a chilled breath. 

Chan is monstrous. A living, breathing nightmare in the flesh from where he looms.

But his eyes are the same; jade green illuminated by yellow moonlight, cut down the middle by crescents of black. 

Felix lets his gaze roam over the other, taking his time. With round eyes, he traces shimmering white scales that fade into cool gray, then into charcoal as they go down Chan’s back and out towards his limbs. A long tail whips through the air, spiked on the end and lined with spines that vary in height all the way up his back before disappearing close to his shoulders. His wings are practically iridescent, tucked close to his body for comfort, but Felix is sure if Chan stretched them out, they’d easily span the length of the bridge. 

The markings on Chan’s face are beautiful; light across the plane of his snout and cheeks, darker along the edges, bleeding onto the swept back spines that line his temple like a crown. Among them are his horns, identical in shape to those while in his Fae form, but much grander, showcasing the marbled lines of silver running through them. 

Everything about him is sharp. Claws, teeth, horns, tail. Felix’s frame of reference is next to nothing, but compared to Minho, Chan is big, and something about that fills him with a sense of pride, his chest blooming with it.

“Hi.”

The Dragonborn makes a noise eerily similar to a purr, happy and relieved and Felix doesn’t even try to hide the fondness in his heart and on his face. 

His eyes widen when Chan sways forward, bowing his head until he’s only a breath away. Up close, the scales on his snout appear pearlescent and smooth; Felix wants nothing more than to touch, going as far as to raise his hand, but he stops himself. Minho didn’t want to be touched, he shouldn’t assume that Chan does. 

But Chan moves in closer, startling Felix enough to make him flinch. He curses his natural reaction when Chan pulls back with a whine, apologetic and shy, even in his current state.

“No, no. It’s alright,” Felix murmurs. Desperate to show Chan he’s not frightened, he goes against his better judgment and lifts his hand again with shaky fingers, palm up. He gets a strange look, questioning, curious, and then Chan is inching back down, lowering his head until the underside of his jaw brushes Felix’s palm. The smile that takes over the Fae’s face is electric. He flicks his eyes between Chan’s own and his hand, heart loud in his chest when he flattens his palm flush to Chan’s jaw. 

His scales are cold, freezing Felix’s skin, but the discomfort becomes the last thing on his mind when Chan tilts his nose down and nudges into Felix’s cheek, so gently he thinks he’s imagining it. Chan’s next rumble is just as benign as his touch, warming the air around them with his puffs of breath. 

Felix bumps Chan right back with his nose, lightly on the end of his snout. “What now then, huh?”

Felix doesn’t know what’s supposed to happen next. Seeing Chan in his dragon form feels like the final bond of trust tying them together, the last wall between them torn down in just a week’s time. A weight is lifted, allowing Felix to breathe easier, even if he lacks all the answers right now.

Chan seems to have one though, mischief flashing in his eyes. After one more tender nudge to Felix’s forehead, Chan begins to shuffle his feet, scratching permanent lines into stone until he’s put a fair amount of distance between them. Felix raises a brow, tilts his head curiously as Chan whips his tail and glances around. He growls at Felix, gesturing timidly with his head.

“What?” Felix asks, watching the other intently. “You want me to step back?”

Chan huffs.

Felix takes three large steps back. He swears he sees Chan smile.

The Dragonborn fluffs his wings out like a bird, tentatively, as if testing just how much space he has to stretch out. When he looks pleased, he hunkers down like a wild cat ready to pounce, butt wiggle and all. Felix is about to poke fun at him, but Chan extends his wings with a fwump, blocking Felix’s entire view of the mountains, and dives backwards off the railing. 

Ah, so he wants to show off. Where anyone can see him. What a splendid idea. 

Felix has seen dragons now, but he’s never seen a dragon in flight. It doesn’t take long before his curiosity gets the best of him and he presses himself against the stone ledge, eyes trained on Chan as he soars around towers and weaves through the moonlight. Felix watches Chan climb higher in the sky, far above the tallest point of the castle before he pulls his wings in towards his body and nosedives into a freefall. 

It’s cute at first, impressive even, but panic starts to pool in Felix’s stomach the further Chan falls. He wants to yell at him, tell him he’s being reckless, but what does Felix know? All he can do is simmer in his worry, pick at the skin around his nails and fight the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Dear gods,” Felix sighs when at the last moment, Chan stretches his wings against the wind and soars back to the bridge. He’s making that purring noise again, so ridiculous for a creature his size, but it only works to endear Felix more. “Are you pleased with yourself?” 

Chan grumbles at Felix from where he hovers in the air, wings flapping slowly to keep him in place.

“Of course you are.” Felix bites the inside of his cheek, shivering in the cold. “Thank you. For showing me,” he gestures vaguely to Chan’s body, smiles when the other tilts his head. “You’re…extraordinary, Chan.” 

Felix wraps his arms around himself, the natural chill plus the added gusts of wind from Chan’s wings are enough to make his teeth chatter. Now would be a good time for Chan to shift back, giving them a fair chance to sneak back to the banquet without too much trouble. There’s no doubt a few have noticed both princes gone and formed speculations, but it shouldn’t be difficult for Chan to shift, get dressed and—

“Chan,” the Fae says, realization soaking into his features. “What did you do with your clothes?” 

Chan has the nerve to look coy, peering at Felix with wide eyes and rumbling out a response as if to say Uhhh, I don’t know.  

“What, they just rip off when you shift? What have you been doing when you come to my balcony?” 

Felix doesn’t get much of an answer. Chan huffs at him. He huffs back. Chan flies closer, lowers his head and growls, steadying himself in the air. Felix immediately knows what he’s asking of him and can’t help but feel scandalized at the offer. 

“I–wha–you want me to mount you? Like a noble steed? And what? Fly off into the night?” Felix is rambling, but that’s about all he can manage right now. There’s no chance he’ll just hop on Chan’s back with no idea—

Footsteps pound against the tiled floor on the other side of the door leading back inside. Logic says it’s a guard, a Fae doing their nightly patrol, or maybe Jisung found them and just wants to check in. Either way, Felix has no intention of sticking around to find out. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to–this is insane. You’re insane. I’m insane. Come here,” he hisses, brain moving his body on autopilot like he’s done this a million times before. Chan grumbles, positively pleased with himself as Felix wobbles onto the railing and curses every god in the sky. Behind him, the door creaks on its hinges, spurring Felix to throw all caution to the wind and jump the few feet onto Chan’s upper back. 

He’s straddling Chan’s neck, wrapped around him like a baby clinging to its mother, clutching onto to shiny scales with all his might. Soft curses leave his trembling lips as Chan whines and shakes out his wings, lowering them away from the bridge. Felix’s heart rate spikes when he hears the clattering of armor above.

“Okay, okay. No funny business, just get us out of here,” Felix whispers hurriedly. Part of him is sure Chan will take advantage of the moment, will fly high to impress the Fae on his back, but Felix is shaking so violently, from both the cold and the nerves of being so vulnerable. He lets out a whimper and Chan purrs beneath him, surprised to feel a wave of comfort tingling through his limbs. 

He squeezes his eyes shut when Chan swoops down and under the bridge, gliding through the air without a sound. Wind rushes past Felix’s ears, filling his head with white noise as he hides his face in Chan’s scales. He wants to look, can feel the curiosity burn in his veins, to see his kingdom from so high in the sky. The rolling hills of the meadows, the bustling downtown streets of the village below that never sleep. Maybe…maybe when they’re finally married and Dragonborns soaring overhead won’t cause anyone to bat an eye, Felix can ask Chan to take him flying again. 

It’s over soon, Chan settles back into a hover and growls for Felix’s attention. The Fae cracks one eye open and sighs in relief at the sight of something solid to stand on, slides off Chan’s neck with little grace until his feet graze the stone balcony outside his room and he’s stumbling forward on weak knees.

Behind him, claws dig into rock, wings flutter and settle. Chan’s deep growl fades into a tense groan and Felix turns around without a second thought.

“Oh my gods,” Felix squeaks, hands shooting up to cover his eyes. “You’re naked.”

Chan chuckles awkwardly, but doesn’t move to cover himself, probably used to moments like this. “Uh, could you hand me a blanket? Or a towel maybe?” 

Felix takes a step backwards, keeps one hand over his face and uses the other to search for the door handle. Only when he’s safely inside his room does he dare open his eyes and send light to the lanterns along the walls, lunging for the nearest blanket on the end of his bed. He throws it in Chan’s general direction, head turned to the side so far he can feel a crick in his neck. 

His breathing is erratic, hard to control as he weighs out their options. Chan’s clothes are probably shredded to pieces, laying somewhere under the bridge, which means there’s no way he could go back to the banquet in different clothes without looking suspicious. And if Felix goes back by himself, he’s positive he wouldn’t be able to focus, too busy overthinking the past hour, too caught up with the image of a naked Chan just standing on his balcony. There are so many foolish ways to slip up, so many bread crumbs left behind to give away everything he and Chan have been doing over the past week. 

“Felix.” 

The Fae flinches, slowly turns to look at the other. 

“Are you alright?” 

No.

“I’m okay.” 

Chan wraps the blanket tighter around his shoulders and Felix frowns. They stare at each other through the doorway and Felix hates the strange feeling of distance between them after being so close just minutes ago.

“You should come in. It’s cold.” 

Chan takes a small step forward, but hesitates. “I can just go back to my room. I’ve probably caused you enough stress for the night,” he says, a self-deprecating smile curling at his lips. 

Felix shakes his head, straightens his spine, because no way is he going to let Chan walk away now. There’s no use in trying to return to the party on the other side of the castle. It’s the last thing he wants to think about. “Nonsense. I have…way too many questions.” 

Chan answers them all. 

After finding the Dragonborn his loosest pair of shorts and an old night shirt, Felix sits on his bed, fidgeting when Chan chooses to sit on the stool of his vanity. Chan’s cheeks flush when Felix’s eyes widen in excitement, praising how beautiful his dragon is, how mesmerizing he looks as he takes flight. Now that he’s seen it up close, his curiosity eats at him with a new fervor. Felix wants to know what it’s like, how it works, switching between forms so easily.

Chan explains with great seriousness and pride, how his dragon resides as a separate entity inside himself, a deep rooted energy with a mind of its own, one that grows and ages alongside him. When he’s in his Fae form, his dragon fuels his emotions, his actions and wants. When he’s in dragon form, when its energy is at its strongest, he has to focus to maintain control—something taught to all Dragonborns from a young age—so as to not give in too deeply to more…animalistic urges. 

When the topic of clothes comes up, Chan is back to blushing, claiming that he usually isn’t so reckless when it comes to shifting. He tells Felix with lowered eyes how he carried a change of sleep clothes with him every night in his mouth, hoping he didn’t burn them before landing on Felix’s balcony and shimmying them on before the Fae could notice. Felix feels heat creep up his own cheeks at the thought, but he only hums in reply. 

A moment of comfortable silence lulls between them as Felix absorbs the new knowledge, filing it away in his brain for future reference. He notes that both of them have purposefully avoided the topic of their kiss from the other night, and he almost opens his mouth to bring it up, to apologize again, but the quiet is disturbed by a knock. It sends Felix and Chan into a spiral as the Dragonborn scrambles around like a fish out of water in search of a place to hide. 

Sweating, Felix cracks open his door no more than an inch, and sighs when he sees it’s just Jisung…and Minho. The two are pink cheeked and smiling, telling him softly that the banquet is over, all the guests have gone home. Felix has no idea how they managed to get away with it, but Jisung mentions something about a bad batch of h’orderves, how unfortunate it was that both princes ate them and ran off, not feeling very well the night before the wedding. 

“You’re a menace,” Felix tells the Water Fae. Jisung just laughs, kisses him on the cheek, and leaves with a wiggle of his eyebrows, his hand wrapped around Minho’s. 

“Tell Prince Chan I said hi! And that I still won’t hesitate to beat him up!” 

Felix shushes him, but laughs too, his heart feeling lighter in his chest. 

When he turns around, he rolls his eyes. Chan is crouched behind Felix’s bed, every part of him hidden aside from his horns, which stick up over the edge, giving him away completely. Felix crosses the room swiftly and climbs onto his bed, crawling on all fours until he can peer down over the side at a sheepish looking Chan. 

“I thought you were supposed to be sneaky.” 

Chan narrows his green eyes, still covered in shimmering shadows. “I’m incredibly sneaky.” 

“Oh really? Doesn’t seem like— ah!” Felix yelps when Chan springs up at him like a snake, wrapping his arms around the Fae’s shoulders and rolling them both until he can get a better grip. Before he can take his next breath, Chan has Felix pinned to the bed by his hands, chest heaving, eyes dangerous, and all Felix can do is stare back, panting as his skin tingles where Chan holds him. 

“Say it,” Chan says.

Felix tilts his head, feeling dumb. “Say what?” 

“Admit that I’m sneaky.” Chan raises one perfect eyebrow in a challenge.

It’s incredibly immature of him, but Felix feels a giddy kind of satisfaction when he whispers, “No.” 

A hot lick of something burns at the base of Felix’s spine as Chan hovers over him, looking disheveled from their roll in the sheets but unfairly handsome all the same. Felix flexes his wrists just to feel the tightness of Chan's grip, not really wanting to escape, but curious to test how strong the Dragonborn really is. 

The challenge drains from Chan’s face though, and he seems to realize the predicament he’s put them in. He furrows his eyebrows and pulls away like he’s been burned. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Felix sits up slowly, vision blurry around the edges, fingers sinking in the plush of his duvet. He’s back to feeling foolish, once again ashamed for making such a big deal out of their kiss, for causing such pointless tension to build up between them. 

“No, I–” Felix shakes his head. “It’s fine.” He steels himself and takes advantage of the silence. Chan had cut him off the first time, but now he’s determined to get the words out. “I want you to know that I’m sorry for handling the other night so poorly.” 

With every step Chan takes away from the edge of his bed, Felix’s frown deepens. 

“Don’t apologize for stopping something you didn’t want. I acted impulsively and put you in an uncomfortable position and I’m so sorry—”

“Who said I didn’t want it?” Felix asks, sliding off the bed to stand. He understands why Chan would think that, he would absolutely assume the same if he were in his place, but it’s just not true. “I–I did. Want it.” 

Chan looks so confused and Felix’s mouth works faster than his brain. “Chan, I enjoyed our kiss. S-so much. You made me feel…really good, happy.” He cringes at himself. Gods, this is so embarrassing. “I’ve never been kissed like that before. I, uh, wasn’t sure what to think in the moment. A-And when you didn’t return the next night I was sure I had ruined everything—”

“Felix, you don’t have to—” 

“No, just listen,” Felix insists. “Our wedding is tomorrow. Our kingdoms will become one and we’ll be forced to work together, rule together. Chan, I want nothing more than for my people to be happy. But I–” his voice cracks and he huffs at the blatant sign of weakness. “I want to be happy too. I–I want you to be happy. And on top of it all, I’ve been carrying around this guilt, suffocating in it, in the fact that I was sure you were going to be a monster, that my life would fall apart because of you.” 

At Chan’s sharp intake of breath, Felix squeezes his eyes shut, unable to fight the tears stinging in his waterline. 

“But you’re not. Y-you’re not a…” 

And he breaks.

Felix cries into his hands, heart and soul overwhelmed with everything he’s been holding inside for months, sobs as everything rolls off him in waves and pools around his feet like black tar. 

He cries for his mother who raised him well on her own, who had sleepless nights after promising her son to a stranger, who tried everything to do right by him and her people. He cries for his best friend, who came into his life and never left, who watched Felix agonize over his future, who risked his status, his job, his own well being to help him. He cries for himself, who was blinded by ignorance and assumptions, who spent so much wasted time on fears, doubts, worries. 

Most importantly though, he cries for Chan. Chan who dealt with their arranged marriage in his own way, who tried his damndest to make the most of their time together, who never wanted Felix to be afraid of him.

A warm hand grazes Felix’s wrist and he flinches violently. 

“Felix…” 

The Fae doesn’t protest when Chan tugs his hands away from his face and glides a gentle thumb across his cheek to brush away his tears. He keeps his eyes shut, not ready to see Chan’s face just yet, but happy to fall into his arms when the Dragonborn embraces him slowly, giving Felix the chance to pull away if he wants. 

With one hand supporting the back of Felix’s head and the other slung tight around his waist, Chan sways them back and forth, rocking like a ship on smooth waters. It only makes Felix cry harder, nuzzling his face further into Chan’s neck, twisting his fingers into the fabric of his shirt, and shivering in his hold. Chan whispers in his ear, warm words telling him it’s okay, he’s okay. 

Felix so desperately wants that to be true. 

When his tears subside, Chan speaks. “Look at me, Felix,” he says, voice level-headed and firm. “Can you do that for me?” 

He can. He does. 

Chan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears and it pulls a wounded little sound out of Felix’s throat, his hand unwinds from the other’s shirt to rest against his cheek. Felix doesn’t think there’s anything better in this realm than the feeling of Chan leaning in and placing a tender kiss to his forehead. 

“We’re gonna be okay, yeah?” 

Felix nods, fierce determination and hopeless adoration surging in his chest like a tidal wave. 

“Yeah.”

<>

Felix wakes up first, which absolutely never happens, but given the soft snore inches away from his ear and the heavy arm slewn across his waist, Chan is still peacefully dreaming. It doesn’t surprise him though, with all the extra hours Chan has been spending holed up in his study, painstakingly co-ruling a kingdom from behind the castle doors while Felix gladly takes the brunt of being in the public eye with grace. 

They fell into their roles quite easily, both respecting the other’s wishes and strategies as kings, successfully leading a kingdom they both could be proud of. 

Today, however, is rare. A day in which Chan has promised to show face, even if said face is that of his dragon. Nevertheless, Felix has been waiting patiently and only feels slightly guilty for what he’s about to do.

Basked in early morning light diffused by soft curtains, Felix starts to wiggle, mostly his hips, with an occasional shimmy of his shoulders to jostle the arm pinning him in place. He smiles deviously when Chan hums, none the wiser, tightening his hold on Felix’s stomach and burrowing his nose into his neck. 

If there’s one thing Felix has learned about his husband, it’s that he thrives off skinship; from light touches of wandering hands in need of a distraction to full body embraces when they’re finally alone together. The only person who arguably loves it more is Felix himself. 

“Channie…” he croons, taking advantage of the naturally husky tone of his voice when he first wakes up. “S’time to get up.” 

The snore that leaves Chan’s lips is comical. Felix pushes his hips back and snickers when Chan’s breath hitches, effectively cutting off his faux snore and ruining his illusion of sleep. Rolling over in his spot, Felix lifts a hand to run one finger down the slope of Chan’s nose. 

“We’re going flying today, remember?” he whispers, finger continuing down until it catches on the Dragonborn’s plush bottom lip. Chan looks peaceful like this; lashes fluttering, cheek smushed up against the pillow, brows smoothed out. 

But it appears he’s not interested in keeping the peace when he opens his mouth and snaps at Felix’s finger. Felix pulls back a little late, sharp teeth barely nipping at his skin, never enough to cause any harm. 

“Do you really want to play that game?” 

Chan makes a noncommittal noise, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“Hm. Have it your way then.” 

Felix nuzzles in closer and bites Chan right on the neck, just under his ear. “Wake up,” he says, nipping again a few inches lower. “Up, up, up,” he mumbles, continuing his path until he’s nibbling on the sensitive skin of Chan’s jaw. 

The Dragonborn just sighs happily. Then he pulls Felix on top of him and bares his throat even more, making the other roll his eyes. Desperate times call for desperate measures. 

“I wonder if Minho’s around. I bet he’ll happily take me flying.” 

That catches Chan’s attention. His eyes snap open, black slitted pupils dilating as they adjust to the light. Felix shivers, pleased with the other’s reaction. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Chan grumbles. 

Felix definitely wouldn’t. He hates flying with anyone else. Chan knows that. 

But still, he plays coy. “I might. If you don’t get up.” 

Chan narrows his eyes, chest rising and falling slowly beneath Felix’s own. With one quick movement, Felix is flipped onto his back and gasping into Chan’s mouth as the other sucks his bottom lip between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. 

When Chan pulls away, Felix chases his lips, but Chan only smirks down at him. “Okay, little one. I’m awake.” And then he’s rolling off the bed, arms stretched above his head in all his naked glory. “Just let me freshen up and we can go.”

The Fae watches him on his way to the bathroom, heart stuck in his throat as he realizes once again just how lucky he is. 

<> 

Felix loves the people of their kingdom, more so now than ever before. 

There’s never a moment where he can’t look up into the sky and see a family of Dragonborns flying overhead, or a group of young Fae playing and laughing in the meadows with their Dragonborn teacher, educating them about their kind. 

Of course, it didn’t come without effort. Like he had expected, Felix and Chan spent months easing the minds of their people, trying everything under the sun and moon to make both sides feel safe and understood as they all went through the changes. It all finally came together when Fae and Dragonborns alike began to notice how effortlessly their kings had fallen into one another, how their love bloomed and flourished along the way. 

Felix runs one hand over the scales on Chan’s neck, the other hand wrapped tightly around the leather strap connected to the harness looped over the Dragonborn’s head. Flying together is second nature to them now, another thing that came with time and patience. Chan had grimaced at the idea of wearing a harness, claiming it would strip away his dragon’s dignity, make him look silly. But after too many close calls where Felix almost slipped right off his back, he was the first one to head into town in search of a leathersmith. 

Dragon riding isn’t a common practice in their kingdom—most Dragonborns balk at the idea of it—but that doesn’t stop the shouts of excitement and wonder from the village whenever they see Chan and Felix gliding through the clouds above. It fills Felix with pride, knowing their people trust and respect them, not an ounce of fear to be seen. 

Chan starts his descent, huffing a warning to Felix and tipping forward, slowing the flap of his wings as they steadily approach an open patch of land near the village’s bustling downtown streets. He lands with grace, quickly tucking his wings and lowering his head to allow Felix to slide off with practiced ease. 

“Thank you, darling,” Felix whispers, lips curled in a gentle smile as he places his palm under Chan’s chin and bumps their noses together. The rumbling purr he gets in response makes him laugh. At this point, Felix can just about understand everything Chan wants to say when he’s in his dragon form through his various noises and body language. “You’ll be fine. We don’t have to stay for long.” 

They accomplished what they needed to do for the day already; patrolling the skies for a few hours with their most trusted Dragonborn soldiers, Changbin and Jeongin. Felix enjoys their company, even if he can’t quite communicate with them the way Chan can. Changbin, a striking emerald green when in dragon form and Master of the Skies as he likes to call himself, is second only to Minho when it comes to how long he’s known Chan, the two of them acting like mischievous hatchlings whenever they’re together. And Jeongin, with his breathtaking icy blue scales, is fairly new, fresh out of training and quickly rising through the ranks to serve alongside the very best. 

But now, after giving Chan his best pout and amping up the shine in his eyes with a trick of the light just as they were about to return to the castle, they stroll down the wide stone roads on their way to the open markets. Already, Fae and Dragonborns are pausing to bow in perfect ninety degree angles, mumbling words of greeting with polite smiles. 

Felix bows in turn, making eye contact with every single one, shaking hands with the elders and patting young ones on the head. It fills his heart with joy to see a pair of young Fae walk up to Chan without a worry and brush curious fingers along his side, rapidly asking questions that Chan can only nod or shake his head to. He knows it overwhelms him, being the bearer of someone’s attention, especially when he’s not in the position to communicate verbally, but Felix just smiles at Chan sweetly and sends him a wink of encouragement. 

“Oi! Your Majesty!” 

An audible gasp rings through the crowd at such a blatant display of disrespect toward the kings. Felix, however, can’t fight the laugh that bubbles up in his throat. He rises on his tiptoes in search of the voice’s owner and snorts when he sees Jisung down the lane a ways, jumping up and down with his arms above his head.

Felix excuses himself and Chan, who was busy watching with wide eyes as the two young Fae bickered over the color of his wings, and beelines straight for his best friend. 

“What brings you to town?” Jisung asks as they approach him, setting a pot of yellow roses back onto the shelf outside the village flower shop. 

Opening his arms for an embrace, Felix squeezes Jisung tightly, having missed the Water Fae greatly. 

They don’t see each other nearly as often as they used to. Once Felix and Chan were married, their caretakers were technically no longer needed, something that Felix had always known, but never wanted to think about. But Jisung was gracious and stuck around until Felix sat him down one night and asked him what he wanted. The Water Fae had looked sheepish, anxious to speak his mind, but ultimately admitted to being in a relationship with Minho, who had been promoted from caretaker to Chan’s advisor. Felix only smiled and offered his sincere congratulations, keeping to himself the fact that he already knew. 

From there, Jisung expressed his interest in going to school, eager to learn more about the magic of their lands and later teach others as well. And with Felix’s full support and a promise to see each other regularly, that’s exactly what he did, now a highly regarded professor of the magical arts. 

In that time as well, he and Minho found a happy home in the village, one close enough to Jisung’s work with plenty of room for Minho to fly to and from the castle. 

“Just visiting, enjoying the people,” Felix replies with a shrug. “What are you looking at flowers for?”

He knows why Jisung is looking at flowers, but he asks just to see the radiant smile that breaks out across his friend’s face. 

“Minho and I are picking out flowers for the wedding!” Jisung says, practically swooning where he stands. 

Felix smiles back at him, just as bright. “Not too long now, is it? Only a couple more weeks.” He pauses to glance around, but doesn’t spot Minho’s familiar black horns. “Where is your other half? Don’t tell me you forgot him somewhere,” Felix teases.

Jisung rolls his eyes, a mixture of fondness and dramatics. “We have robe fittings later today as well and he refuses to shift back,” he grumbles, then tips his head back and points upwards. “He’s on the roof pouting.” 

“That he is,” Felix mumbles with a laugh. On the roof of the flower shop, Minho lounges with his chin resting atop his clawed hands, wings splayed around him haphazardly. When he meets Felix’s gaze, he huffs. “Don’t look so dispirited, Minho! You’re not married yet. Plenty of time for someone to snatch Jisung away.” 

Minho grumbles, clearly not amused by Felix’s taunting, and Jisung definitely doesn’t make it any better with his cackling. “Don’t worry, baby,” Jisung hollers between giggles. “You’re the only big stubborn Dragonborn for me!” He glances at Chan and Felix can see what Jisung is about to say before he even opens his mouth again. “Except Chan, of course.” 

Poor Chan looks around wildly at the sound of his name, almost knocking over a display in the process. He rumbles out a questioning noise, as if to say Who me? and huffs when Felix nods at him solemnly. 

“Oh, great. Now they’re going to be pouty together,” the Light Fae points out as Chan jumps onto the roof to join his friend, already grumbling back and forth with one another. 

“Eh, let them. You’re much better help than he’d ever be.” 

The two of them weave through the stands propped up outside the shop, stopping every once in a while to smell the flowers and hold them up for the other to see. Jisung is bubbly the entire time, bouncing from one display to another, leading them inside to look at more options. Felix likes the orange lilies, but Jisung keeps coming back to anything purple, fluttering his lashes and claiming they match his eyes. 

As Felix continues to defend his choice of flower, there’s a tug on his sleeve, gentle enough he almost misses it. When he turns, prepared to apologize for being in someone’s way, he’s met with sparkling gold eyes and adorable little horns. The young Dragonborn is hidden partially around the corner of the stand, only her head poking out. 

Felix opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by a flower, gripped tightly between small fingers, being shoved just under his nose. “Oh!” he says, holding a gentle hand beneath the petals. It’s an orange lily, a beautiful one at that. “For me?” 

The young girl nods ferociously, her sleek black hair getting tangled up in her blue horns. 

Felix crouches down to be more on her level and accepts the flower with a bow of his head. “Thank you very much. What’s your name?”

“Haewon,” she whispers, voice so soft.

“Thank you, Haewon. I’ll treasure it well.” 

When he tucks the flower snugly behind his ear, Haewon smiles wide and runs off, hiding herself behind the leg of her mother on the other side of the counter. 

“You’re an amazing king, you know. Not a day goes by that I don’t hear someone say it.” 

Felix straightens up and faces Jisung, who stares at him with sincerity written all over his face. In his hand is a purple clematis, wild and bright just like him. The Light Fae snaches the stem from his fingers and tucks it into Jisung’s hair before ruffling up the rest of his dark locks, laughing softly at the other’s indignant squawk.

“I grew up with someone who taught me a lot about people. How to see the best in them.” 

Jisung flushes lightly at the acclaim, looking quite pleased with himself. “This person must be quite special to you.” 

“Yeah. My mother is great,” Felix teases, too slow to avoid the punch Jisung swings at his shoulder.

<> 

The first thing he does after hopping off Chan’s back and onto the balcony is find something to display his flower in. 

Their room is spacious, located in a new wing of the castle built specifically for them, decked out with ornate furniture in natural hues paired with soft rugs and floor to ceiling windows. Felix heads for the ensuite, hoping to find some sort of glass or vase in a random cabinet. He’s not entirely sure what’s all in their room—designed and built by Earth Fae and decorated by his mother—but he’s lucked out plenty of times to know they must have something. 

He hums when he spots a blue tinted glass tall enough to support the flower’s stem, fills it three-fourths of the way with water and carefully carries it to his nightstand. 

“I meant to ask why you only bought a single flower,” Chan says from over his shoulder. Felix can hear him snap the waistband of his shorts against his hips, probably taken from the clean pile of clothes Chan keeps on the balcony for convenience's sake. 

“I didn’t buy it. It was given to me as a gift,” the Fae replies, placing the flower down into the glass and adjusting it towards the sun.

“Oh? And who is the one giving my husband flowers?”

A sizzle of warmth pools in Felix’s chest at Chan’s words, tainted dark with possession. He’s not one to show it when company is around, and never acts on it unless Felix teases him too much, but Felix loves it when Chan lowers his voice like that, lips often pressed lightly against his ear, breath hot and teeth aching to nip.

“No need to get riled up.” Felix grins, strips off the heavy layers of his riding robes until he’s left only in his briefs and a thin flowy shirt, too lazy to seek out a change of clothes. He flops down onto their bed, still unmade from this morning. “A lovely young Dragonborn gave it to me.” 

Chan returns Felix’s smile, his dimples like buttons on his cheeks. He makes his way over to the bed slowly, feet dragging against the floor, eyes trailing the line of Felix’s body sprawled out across the sheets. “That was kind of them.” 

Felix nods through his yawn, the long hours of the day beginning to catch up to him. It’s only late afternoon, they’re expected to be at dinner with their mothers in a few hours, but Felix wonders if he can risk taking a nap. He hasn’t had the luxury in far too long. 

“M’sleepy,” he mumbles, leaning into Chan’s hand on his cheek, relishing in the cool touch. 

The Dragonborn arches an eyebrow, runs his finger along Felix’s hairline. “I’m the one who carried you around. If anyone’s tired, it should be me.” 

Jutting out his bottom lip, Felix coos. “Poor baby. Had to deal with your husband’s legs around your neck all day, huh? ” 

Chan snorts. 

Felix winks. 

He watches Chan pull back and sit on the edge of their bed, face blank, eyes giving away nothing. Moments pass by where neither of them say a word, but then Chan is tilting his head in a way that Felix knows all too well, one that melts his tired thoughts away into interest, excitement, need. It’s then that he’s reminded just how much time they’ve spent apart recently, off ruling their kingdom in equal but different ways. 

Most nights, Felix is already in bed and fast asleep by the time Chan crawls under the covers and kisses him softly on the temple, only for Chan to be gone again when he wakes in the morning. And when they make plans to share lunch together, Felix keeps getting pulled in a hundred different directions, regretfully sending his assistant to inform Chan of his raincheck request. They continue to slip past each other, left with only enough time for chaste kisses and promises to make up for it later. 

That’s why today was so special. A day where both of them could spend time together without the chance of interruptions. 

“Come here, my love,” Chan beckons, leaning back onto his hands to give Felix the space he needs to climb into his lap.

Chan is always so warm and solid beneath him, a comforting presence wrapped around his frame like the early morning fog. Felix’s thighs settle on either side of Chan’s own just right, only a slight burn as he stretches and wiggles until they’re pressed flush together at the hips. His hands gravitate towards Chan’s bare chest, unable to help himself as he grazes gentle fingers over his skin, watching in awe as goosebumps form and blend in with the gray scales sprinkled across his shoulders and down his ribs. 

Every reaction to Felix’s touch is beautiful; Chan’s parted lips, his pink cheeks, the way his brows scrunch up when Felix digs his nails ever so slightly into the defined lines of his torso. All the time they spent learning about each other’s bodies, what felt good and what didn’t, laughing during the awkward pauses and panting through their throes of pleasure, it’s all there in Felix’s mind as he admires Chan and his heart feels so incredibly fond.

Felix leans forward, shifting his weight to bring their mouths closer, skimming his fingertips up Chan’s sides to then travel down his biceps, tracing the veins on his forearms until he can intertwine their hands. When Chan doesn’t connect their lips, Felix whines, unashamed to beg for what he wants. And knowing Chan, that’s exactly what he’s waiting for. 

“Touch me,” Felix whispers, voice pitched into a plea.

Chan watches closely as Felix pulls their hands towards his hips, eager to feel touch other than his own, but Chan stops him, locks his arms and asks, “Where?”

Felix is desperate for anything, a light brush of Chan’s knuckles over his cheek or the harsh grip of his fingers into softer, more sensitive skin. But his lover is patiently waiting for him to make a decision, so he settles on what he wants first, what he wants the most. 

“My waist, please. Will you hold me, Channie?”

Never one to deny Felix anything after asking so nicely, Chan complies, places Felix’s hands around his neck and wraps his arms around the Fae tightly. Felix sighs into his shoulder, threads his fingers through Chan’s hair and pulls until the other groans, his chest rumbling with it. 

It’s perfect, the way their bodies fit together, the way Chan cradles his waist, arms crossing over his back to hold Felix close, leaving no sliver of space between them. He could sit like this for hours, has done so many times in the past whenever he needed to quiet his mind and just exist, but Felix can feel the itch in his veins running through him from head to toe, and he aches. 

So he turns until he can brush his lips over Chan’s pulse point and pulls back when the Dragonborn hums. Felix bumps their noses together gently and does the only thing Chan will never make him beg for. 

At first, it’s sweet, like their kisses always start, lips grazing tenderly, soft pecks to the corner of Chan’s mouth matched with chaste kisses to Felix’s nose, his cheeks, his chin. Chan smiles against his mouth when Felix holds him still and connects their lips properly, keeping it easy, keeping it simple despite knowing what Felix is trying to do. 

When Felix flicks his tongue over the seam of Chan’s lips, he’s granted access, breaths coming heavier as arms squeeze around his waist. 

“Lower. M-my hips,” Felix whispers, circling his hips once and squeaking when Chan slides his hands down and digs his fingers into his plush skin. 

Felix is notorious for being impatient, but Chan is never too far behind. He just knows how to hide it better. 

Chan licks into Felix’s mouth with fervor, his own eagerness finally slipping through. “Felix,” he murmurs. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too. So much.”

They bite at each other’s lips, suck on each other’s tongues, anything to feel closer, to bridge the gap between them and prove the meaning of their words. But Felix knows, knows with all of his heart and soul before the words are ever spoken. Chan shows him every day, with reassuring touches and acts of kindness and sacrifice he thinks go unnoticed. He only hopes that he offers the same unspoken love in return, because no one deserves it more than Chan.

Breaking apart for air, Felix pants like he’s been drowning, head swimming with overwhelming need. His hips twitch on their own accord, pulling a stuttered whine from his throat, only for him to be rewarded by Chan who sucks on Felix’s lower lip until his soft sounds grow huskier, more desperate. Chan’s hands press their hips together, confirming their shared arousal.

“Hhh—Chan, please, I-I…”

“What do you want, baby?”

Everything.

Anything.

Something.  

Chan’s whole body tenses and then goes slack when Felix brushes his fingers around the base of one horn, tracing the fade from scales to skin. The strong thighs beneath him twitch and tense a few more times, making Felix moan, giving him an idea, something he’s always wanted to try. Chan notices, eyes wide, pupils blown wider, and he smiles devilishly, always so quick to read Felix like an open book. 

For the first time, Felix doesn’t need to ask. 

“Go ahead, darling. Take what you need.”

Shy, he moves to straddle one of Chan’s thighs when the Dragonborn spreads them apart with a smirk. It’s not a mean look, but Felix scrunches his nose and hides in Chan’s neck, too flustered to think straight, the heat between his legs taking over completely. 

The first roll of his hips is slow, hesitant, experimental and he gasps at the friction against his cock, the feeling even better than he imagined. Felix pulls Chan closer, arms looped around his neck, and grinds down again, this time whimpering when Chan pushes his thigh up to meet him. His head is fuzzy, all thoughts washed away with his ever growing arousal, eager to chase the waves of pleasure flooding his senses. 

Chan lets him move on his own, hands still on his hips in a way that’s comforting, if not just another layer of heat thrumming through him. Felix moves like he’s coated in honey; sticky and sweet, dripping with it as soft little noises leave his throat.

“Let me see you,” Chan whispers.

Felix picks his head up slowly, eyes glazed over, brows furrowed. Chan smiles at him, bright and warm, and Felix wants to melt.

“So beautiful, Felix. So pretty in my lap like this.”

The praise zips down Felix’s spine, makes his hips stutter. 

“Doing so well, yeah? Making yourself feel good?”

Felix nods, pouts. 

Chan kisses the corner of his mouth. “Go on, little one. Think you can come?”

Can he? Felix wants to, really wants to come like this, even if just to hear more of Chan’s words, lined with love and dipped in desire. He picks up his pace and whines when his thighs start to burn, tired and losing strength with each passing second. Flying for hours with his legs spread wide did nothing to prepare him for this. He should have known, his thighs are always sore for days afterwards. 

Despite his struggle, Felix pushes through it, nails scraping against Chan’s back, breathless pants and whimpers leaving him at a steady rate. Everything shifts, intensifies when Chan cups him under his thighs and begins to rock him forward and down. 

Their eyes meet and something tight and molten coils in Felix’s gut. Chan licks his lips, hisses every time Felix’s knee brushes against his cock, hard and prominent beneath the thin fabric of his shorts. Felix unashamedly looks down, his mouth watering at the image they make, rutting against each other like this. 

With one particularly broken noise from the Dragonborn, Felix flicks his eyes back up and watches Chan’s expression darken as he lowers one hand to palm at him.

“Wanna feel you,” the Fae mumbles. “Wanna feel everything.”

Chan’s eyes roll back at the thought, but he shakes his head before increasing Felix’s pace against his thigh. “I want you to come first. Just like this.” 

It surprises both of them just how quickly Felix crumbles, head thrown back, sweat dripping down the long line of his neck, spurred on by Chan’s sweet words telling him how good he is, how lovely he looks, how much Chan loves him. He sighs after his release, head in the clouds, glad to be brought back down by firm kisses and the shape of Chan’s smile against his cheek.

When the pulsing lights finally fade from behind Felix’s eyelids, he’s putty in Chan’s arms. Chan, who watches him closely, lays him down onto the sheets and strips him of his clothing like he’s precious, like he’s golden. 

“Messy, messy,” Chan tuts, wasting no time as he takes Felix into his mouth, ignoring the other’s sensitive whines and licking him clean, humming in satisfaction at how Felix’s cock is already twitching in interest. Chan’s mouth feels good, always does, but Felix can’t focus on that, not when he knows what comes next.

After kissing a wet trail up Felix’s chest and pausing to suck red and purple bruises into his skin, Chan reaches over and grabs a small vial of oil from their night table. Felix is back in familiar territory, knows the feeling of Chan’s fingers stretching him open slowly is second only to his cock pressing in deep, so he sighs and spreads his legs in invitation, flushing red when Chan groans at the sight of him. 

“My gods, darling,” the Dragonborn whispers. His hands are everywhere, gentle touches that skim over Felix’s waist, his hips, his thighs, until Chan spreads them even wider and traces a teasing line down the inside of one thigh to rub a dry finger over Felix’s entrance. “How did I get so lucky?”

Felix hums, feels the same way every day of his life. How lucky he is to be married to someone so kind, so wonderful and warm. It’s strange to think back to old times, when he and Chan were strangers, how naive he was, scared of the unknown. He can’t say he would act any differently if he were to go back and try again, but that’s only because there’s absolutely nothing he would change. Every moment has led them here, to a love so true and a trust unbreakable. 

Chan generously slicks two fingers, but only slides one past Felix’s rim, giving the Fae time to adjust as he coaxes him open. From where he sits back on his heels between Felix’s legs, Chan is broad and strong, the muscles in his arm tensing each time he pushes in. Sweat dampens both of their foreheads, skin painted pink with desire, all from the hot air surrounding them.

It doesn't take long for Felix’s cock to fill back up, curling delicately against his stomach, leaking shiny globs of precome that pool beneath the head. Chan adds another finger, gives Felix the same attention with two, then three, happy to take his time until Felix begins to shimmy his hips, following Chan’s movements and meeting his tender thrusts with impatient huffs. 

“Almost done,” Chan reassures, twisting his fingers around and curling them against Felix’s walls, causing the other to squirm and writhe. 

“I’m ready,” Felix insists, stuttering when Chan pulls his fingers out with care. “D-Don’t make me wait any longer.” 

Chan’s crooked smile hasn’t changed since the day they met. Felix is almost sure it’s the first part of him he fell in love with. 

It’s Felix’s turn to groan at the sight of Chan when he slides his shorts down his thighs and kicks them off, exposing sharp hip bones and soft lines leading to his cock, hard and heavy between his legs. He’ll never get used to it; just seeing the Dragonborn like this is enough to make Felix ache, his heart rate spike, and his legs tremble. 

He sees Chan reach for the vial again, but Felix beats him to it, sits up with a sheepish grin and pops the top off to drizzle a liberal amount down his shaft. Chan inhales sharply, his chest heaving. The oil drips down in smooth rivulets, glistening and wet, and Felix wraps his hand around the base of Chan’s cock, whining at the velvety heat, remembering what it feels like inside of him. 

Chan runs deft fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands by his nape until Felix looks up. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbles and kisses Felix soundly on the mouth. 

Felix falls back against the sheets and takes Chan with him, arms wrapped around the other’s neck, careful not to get oil everywhere. 

“Mm,” Felix agrees. “Now be good to me too.” 

Chan settles over him with ease and slides his cock in with a whisper of always, unleashing fluttering butterflies through Felix’s veins. 

He’s only ever known Chan’s touch, his mouth, his cock, but Felix can’t imagine anything better, can’t fathom that such a thing exists. 

With each new inch sinking into him deeper and deeper, Felix arches his back off the bed and into Chan, who wraps his arms around him and holds him there. Chan moves slowly, devotes his attention to nipping at Felix’s jaw until they’re pressed flush together, skin slick with sweat and buzzing with heat. 

“Oh–o-okay, Channie, please,” Felix whimpers, fingers splayed over Chan’s back, trying hard not to dig his nails in. 

Chan groans, a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat. The edge of his horn grazes Felix’s cheek, who angles his head to plant a soft kiss at the base and grins when Chan shivers above him. 

The first few thrusts are smooth, out and back in, pulling a sigh from both of them. Felix squirms until Chan lays him back down with a breathless chuckle. He wraps his legs around Chan’s hips, digging his heels into the small of his back and using the leverage to bring the other closer. 

Chan finds a steady pace, snaps his hips and stretches Felix open with each thrust. The head of his cock catches on Felix’s rim every time he pushes back in, punching out little noises of pleasure from the Fae, driving him insane. 

They move in tandem with wandering hands and kiss-swollen lips, perfect and blissful with each touch. Chan fills Felix up so well, so completely.

“Feels s-so good,” Felix says. “Thank you, I love you, t-thank you.” 

The Dragonborn growls into his neck, such a rare occurrence in his Fae form, slipping past his lips only when he’s filled with lust or seething with rage. Felix knows why it’s happening now, and the thought smolders across his skin. 

When Chan’s emotions are high, he has a harder time controlling his dragon and its wild nature, oftentimes failing to hold back a growl. Another thing happens too, one that Felix is reminded of as Chan flattens himself against Felix’s body; he’s hot, hotter than before, his temperature spiking, the scales sprinkled along his body burning like the embers of a fire. 

It only happened during the first few times they were intimate with each other, when Chan was still learning to control his dragon in the new setting. Felix’s brows furrow, his teeth clench at the rapidly rising heat, and he pants until he can cradle Chan’s face in his hands and meet his eyes. 

“Chan, my love, you’re burning up,” he whispers, unable to fight a whine as Chan’s eyes come back into focus, flicking with panic and realization before he slows to a stop. “Take a breath.” 

Chan nods, fills his chest with air and releases it. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t notice. Are you hurt?” 

Felix scrunches his nose and smiles. “No, never by you.” He waits until the temperature drops now that Chan can control it and gingerly pushes the other away. “Lay back. Relax, okay?”

He doesn’t look very pleased, but Chan pulls out gently and rolls to lay on his back, taking Felix with him. The Fae sits up and runs his hands over Chan’s chest, avoiding his scales until they can cool down too. 

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” Felix asks, tone playful. “Been a while since you did that.”

Chan blushes down his chest and reaches his hands up to trace lines down Felix’s sides. “Haven’t had you like this in so long, darling. I suppose I got a little carried away.” 

Felix leans down and kisses the pout off Chan’s lips. They fall back into each other with ease, this time calmer, more relaxed as they savor every second. Both of them are still hard and leaking and Felix eagerly reaches back with one hand to line them up, breaths shaky as he rubs Chan’s cock against his rim and sinks down on it with a moan.

He can see Chan’s hesitation in the way his eyes squeeze shut and how he bites back a moan of his own, can feel it in the way his hands hover over Felix’s skin, barely touching, content to let the Fae control the pace. And while Felix is happy to keep his own comfortable rhythm as he rocks himself up and down on his husband’s cock, he needs Chan’s hands on him now, needs to hear his voice.

“Baby, please,” he whines. “T-Tell me I’m good. Am I doing good? Please–ah–please tell me.” 

That does the trick to break Chan away from his uncertainty. The Dragonborn frowns and pulls Felix flush to his chest, arms tight around his waist, hips rolling up to meet Felix halfway. 

“Of course, little one. You’re perfect, making me feel so good. My perfect boy.” 

Felix trembles. Chan’s words flow through him from head to toe before settling in his belly, feverish and warm and everything he needs. A familiar ache blooms in his thighs and Felix whimpers through it, nose buried in Chan’s neck, hands tangled in his hair. 

“I wish you could see how gorgeous you are. You look stunning, riding my cock so well, baby.”

His hips burn, his legs shake, but it only makes the pleasure swirling in his gut so much better. With every rut forward, his sensitive length brushes Chan’s stomach, and with every push backward, he’s filled to the brim with Chan’s cock. It’s overwhelming, there’s so much to feel, so much to enjoy, and Felix is drunk on it all.

“Felix…” Chan begins. He uses his hands to still Felix’s hips, stuffing him full and grinding up into him, the perfect angle to nail his prostate again and again and again.

“Chan,” Felix cries, back arching, voice wrecked.

Fingers pull at the hair on Felix’s nape, turning his head until his lips are caught by Chan in a searing kiss. The Dragonborn holds him fast and snaps his hips hard, making Felix gasp and sob. His pace is relentless, a complete shock to Felix’s system, so different compared to his slow, methodical thrusts from before. 

But this, this is better, wild and passionate and raw. Felix can feel Chan’s desperation, his desire as he chases his own pleasure, takes what he needs from Felix and gives it back in turn. Chan swallows every little sound that Felix makes, nips at his lips with sharp teeth, and presses bruises into Felix’s hips with his fingertips. 

“I love you. More and more every day.”

Felix melts, the heat pooling between his legs bubbling over when Chan wraps one firm hand around his cock and thumbs at the head, pulling Felix’s release from him and splattering both of their stomachs with his cum. The Fae is panting, approaching oversensitivity much too soon, but he needs one more thing from Chan.

“D-don’t stop. Come inside me, I-I want it. Want it so bad,” Felix pleads. His limbs are weak, body spent, but he clenches around Chan with every ounce of his remaining energy and preens at the low moan he gets in response. 

Chan just nods, plants his heels against the sheets and uses him to find his own release. His breaths are ragged, the air is filled with slick sounds of skin on skin, and Felix squirms until Chan’s hips finally slow to a stutter, his cum warm and wet as it fills him up. 

They don’t dare pull away, too focused on catching their breath, on calming their heart rates and covering each other’s faces in soft kisses. Felix could fall asleep like this, genuinely, surrounded by Chan in every way, safe and cared for in his embrace. But the stickiness cooling on his skin itches in the back of his mind, and Felix grimaces, pushing himself up on shaky arms.

Chan grins at him, sleepy and kind. 

Felix leans back down to bump their noses together, unable to resist.

<>

Hours later, after cleaning up and attending dinner with flushed cheeks and sore muscles, they lay together in bed, sharing the same pillow with their legs tangled under the sheets.

“There’s something I have to admit,” Felix whispers into the darkness. 

Chan shuffles impossibly closer. “And what would that be?”

“You are quite sneaky.”

“Mmm,” Chan hums, tone thick with amusement. “I know. But tell me why.” 

Felix sighs, second guessing whether he should continue, but Chan nuzzles into his cheek and he can feel his lips curl into a happy smile. So he bites back a chuckle and says with full sincerity, “You snuck your way into my heart.” 

“...that was terrible.” 

“Come on, you liked it.” 

“I did not.” 

“Hmph…I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

And their words are true. 

Husbands not by their own design, but soulmates, chosen by fate.