Chapter Text
Jimin was running late to his shitty fucking job again. Each day it had become more and more difficult to pull himself out of bed while knowing where his morning was headed, to the deadlines he could never seem to meet, the dull gray cubicle walls, and the coworkers who laughed behind his back because he could barely afford the office dress code and had to rotate between the same three button-up shirts. Still, if he wanted to avoid moving back in with his toxic-ass roommates he needed his fucking shitty job, so he was practically sprinting down the sidewalk to catch the bus. The bus always pulled out at 7:15 am and never once waited on anyone and if Jimin missed his bus he was fucked .
Jimin had the bus in his sights just down the street, he was almost there, his heart pounding in his chest when suddenly his forward motion came to a complete stop. In all honesty, it felt like he’d run into a brick wall, something solid and unmoving that had him falling back on his ass like some sort of cheap slapstick routine. At the last second a hand wrapped around his wrist, yanking him forward until he collided with the hard object again, though this time with arms around him keeping him upright.
Jimin placed his hands out in front of him, using the firm chest that he had basically run headfirst into twice now to regain his balance and gather his bearings. He looked up and saw dark eyes staring back down at him, soft lips parted in surprise. Jimin’s heart dropped into his stomach. Not only had he just made a fool of himself, but, of course, the guy had to be hot too. Jimin opened his mouth to hopefully say something witty or funny that could turn this stupid slapstick into a romantic drama when the bus down the street revved its engine.
Jimin blinked, suddenly remembering the predicament he was in. He backed away from the stranger, who hesitated for just a moment before letting him go. Jimin quickly bent at the waist, bowing a few times as about five different apologies spilled from his lips. The stranger didn’t react, just continued to stand there, his arms still raised like he might put them back around Jimin at any moment.
“I really am so sorry, sir,” Jimin bobbed his head a few more times for good measure as he skirted around the man, who was still staring at him with wide eyes. The man still looked shocked even as Jimin finally turned and sprinted the rest of the way to the bus. Jimin didn’t think it could have been that big of a deal. The streets of Seoul were always packed with pedestrians. It couldn’t have been the first time someone had bumped into him. Then again, he’d been dressed so nicely, and Jimin had even caught a glimpse of a diamond-studded watch. Maybe he was shocked that a plebian like Jimin would even touch him.
Jimin reached the bus just in time, the driver giving him a look over her spectacles as he hurried up the steps. He bowed his head in thanks as he quickly scanned his bus pass. At this time of the morning, most of the seats had been filled, so Jimin had to head toward the back of the bus for any chance of finding a seat. As Jimin glanced around the aisles, hoping for an empty space, he noticed from the corner of his eye a figure following along his steps. Outside the bus windows was the same man he had run into a moment ago. He was still staring at Jimin with wide eyes, an expression of disbelief coloring his features.
Jimin looked around, hoping that maybe something odd was happening around him to explain it, but no. Everyone was peacefully sitting in their seats like normal. Jimin hurried to the back of the bus where he could squeeze into a spot between an elderly lady and two teenagers, simply wanting to be out of sight from the windows. The bus soon pulled away from the curb, leaving behind the strange man, but Jimin felt as if he could sense his eyes still on him, wide and dark and endless.
Jimin did his best to clear the event from his mind, pulling out his phone to read some webcomics. He had such little free time these days, he wasn't going to waste it worrying about this.
As usual, his bus ride lasted for about five chapters before he was forced to drag himself out of his seat and down the two blocks to get to his office building. Jimin's workplace was your typical looking hell, with beige walls and gray cubicles in which countless workers hunched over their desks. Jimin made it to his little nook just in time, wishing his fellow lost souls a good morning as he woke up his computer and took a seat.
On the one hand, there were certain things Jimin liked about his job. He was good at crunching numbers, and his meticulous perfectionism meant that he was often being praised for catching others’ mistakes. What he hated were the high expectations and grueling hours, the stifling environment, and the pretentious attitudes of those higher up in the company. It was enough to have him drinking the stress away when he got home, and he couldn't even afford to get the good stuff.
It also didn't help that whoever controlled the thermostat had set the office to below freezing that morning.
"Are they trying to freeze us out of here?" Jimin asked Jiwoo, whose cubicle was next to his, just before lunch. "I'm more than happy to go home."
Jiwoo leaned back in his chair to look over at him. "Are you serious? They've barely turned the air on today. I've been considering making the trek home during lunch just to put on a short-sleeve shirt."
"Are you kidding me?" Jimin asked. He had his arms crossed over his chest, trying to preserve as much warmth as possible. Their dress code only allowed for blazers or suit jackets, but Jimin would kill for one of his fluffy cardigans right now. "I feel like I'm about to shiver my way right out of my seat."
Jiwoo gave him a dubious look. "Maybe you should go home then. You might have a fever."
Jimin scoffed. "No way. You know what our sick leave policy is like. I'll go home when I'm dying."
"Suit yourself," Jiwoo said as he pulled back up to his desk. "Just don't get any of your germs on me."
There was no way Jimin could be sick. For one, he had no other symptoms, and two, he was never hungry when he wasn't feeling good, but when it came time for lunch he ate two whole rolls of gimbap with a large tea and was still hungry afterward. Clearly, Jiwoo was the one with the fever, not him.
It only seemed to get worse after lunch, and Jimin couldn't stop himself from shivering at his desk, his fingers half numb as he tried to type on his keyboard.
"Do you think management would get mad if I started bringing a blanket?" Jimin asked when his teeth started chattering as well.
Jiwoo sighed. He leaned back in his chair again, and Jimin saw that he had actually changed into a short-sleeve button-up. "Just go home, man. It's not like you're gonna get any work done like this."
Jimin sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Since he’d made it through most of the day it was unlikely his pay would be docked, and if he stayed in the freezing building much longer, he was probably going to lose some fingers.
When he informed his manager that he was feeling under the weather and would be headed home early, he was able to leave with only a reminder of the company’s sick policy and a warning that all employees who took sick days without a proper doctor’s notice would be penalized. Jimin nodded through the whole ordeal before quickly backing out of the office and fleeing toward the elevators.
He’d expected to experience at least some relief when he stepped outside. They were slowly but surely moving into spring, and the days had been steadily getting warmer. Jimin was dismayed to find out, however, that it was just as cold outside as it was inside. He had neglected to check the weather that morning, so another cold front must have moved in during the day, causing the temperature to drop. It was the only explanation that made sense.
Jimin dragged himself back onto the bus, his early exit meaning that he got to miss some of the normal afternoon traffic. During his significantly shorter ride, all he could think about was getting back to his apartment, blasting the heater, and curling up under his covers for the rest of the day. All that shivering had left him exhausted and his muscles were achy and sore.
He had hoped that at least his apartment would be somewhat warm since he usually kept the temperature fairly mild, but he must have left a window open or something, as his home offered him no relief. His teeth started chattering again when he stripped out of his work clothes, his shaking so bad it was nearly impossible to get his legs through the holes of his sweatpants. Bundled up in his thickest hoodie and at least four blankets, he curled up in the middle of his bed and tried to get some sleep, hoping that his covers would retain whatever warmth he could muster.
Midway through the evening his rumbling stomach finally pulled him out of bed, and when he poked his head out from under the covers he was dismayed to find out that the cold had only gotten worse. Even as he fumbled around his apartment wrapped up in two blankets it still bit at his nose and cheeks and he had to rub them to keep them from going numb. He turned his heater up a few more notches, even though it already said it was well past sweltering. He would have to get maintenance to come out and look at it soon. Obviously, the thing was busted.
Without the energy for much else, Jimin made himself a pot of instant ramen. Usually, he would only use half a pack of the spicy seasoning, but for some reason the kind he had bought tasted more bland than usual. He ended up adding the whole packet in, along with some additional chili powder from his cupboard. The spice tingled pleasantly in his mouth, and when his hunger drove him to make a second and third bowl he added just as many spices each time. With any luck, the spice would help burn up whatever bug was in his system and he would be back to his normal self come morning.
He knew that was a pipe dream, however, when he woke up just as cold as he was the night before. His shivering had woken him up a solid thirty minutes before his alarm was set to go off, and Jimin continued to hide under his comforter as he stumbled his way to the bathroom, dragging the puffy fabric along behind him. It wasn’t even until he was done using the toilet that he bothered to turn the overhead light on, knowing that he was now at the point in the morning where he would stare into the mirror and debate with himself over whether he was sick enough to stay home from work.
Jimin dropped the comforter, ready for a one-on-one with his reflection, but all that came out of his mouth was a strangled gasp. His hair was white. Like, platinum, would have to fry it for hours to get it this color, white. Which was quite strange because when he had gone to bed the night before it had been black. Jimin tentatively ran his hands through it, but no, that was definitely his hair, feeling just as soft as it had the day before. He pulled at it, moving in closer to the mirror, but it was white all the way down to the roots.
In a fit of panic, Jimin did the only thing he could think to do, which was to call his hyung.
Hoseok, whose job didn’t start until around 10:00 am since he owned his own dance studio, showed up bleary-eyed and yawning, a half-drunk cup of coffee in his hands that he had picked up on the way. “Holy shit, it’s hot in here,” he said as soon as he walked through the door, having let himself in with the spare key. “Are you trying to turn your apartment into a sauna?”
“Hyung,” Jimin whined, wanting to greet his friend, but also not wanting to get up from the mountain of blankets he’d piled on top of himself on the couch.
“Oh, shit.” Hoseok whipped off his sunglasses to get a better look at him, marching into the living room as his eyes widened. “I saw you just the other day. When did you have time to dye your hair?”
Jimin locked his trembling fingers together in his lap. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I didn’t dye it.”
“I mean, clearly you must have done something else,” Hoseok said as he ran a hand through Jimin’s soft, healthy hair. “A dye job like this usually takes a few sessions, and I saw you two days ago. Your hair isn’t fried, so there’s no way you did all this yesterday. How did you do it?”
“I don’t know,” Jimin practically wailed. “I just woke up and it was like this! I didn’t even shower last night. I swear I didn’t put anything in my hair.”
Hoseok gave a thoughtful frown as he brushed a strand of hair behind Jimin’s ear. “So, what, it was like some kind of Marie Antoinette Syndrome?”
“A what?” Jimin’s voice had raised in pitch, bordering on hysterical.
“I’ve only heard about it happening. I’ve never seen it in real life. It’s where an extreme amount of stress can make your hair turn white.”
Jimin threw his hands up. “Maybe? I don’t know! This isn’t even the first weird thing that’s happened to me since yesterday. No matter how hot I make it in the apartment I’m still freezing my balls off and I can’t seem to get full no matter how much I eat. This morning I had five eggs and two bowls of rice and I’m still thinking about the pop-tarts in my cupboard. This is insane!”
“Okay, well,” Hoseok looked a bit overwhelmed, and Jimin could see him casting about for some way to help. “How about we start by getting you some fresh air? Help me open the windows. I promise it’s nice and warm outside today.”
Jimin highly doubted that, but he got up to do as his hyung said anyway, wanting to believe in his friend’s solutions. As Hoseok went to open the windows in the bedroom Jimin shoved open the first one in the living room. The cold air immediately had goosebumps rising on his skin, but Jimin did his best to lean into his friend’s advice, sticking his head out the window and taking a large breath of air.
The outside of Jimin’s apartment wasn’t what one would call “fresh.” He lived in the middle of Seoul, at the back of his apartment complex, which meant that all of his windows faced brick and concrete alleyways. The one under Jimin’s living room was usually pretty deserted, the only exceptions being if someone was dropping off or picking up trash from the dumpster below. When Jimin looked out of his window at eight-thirty five that morning there was only one person in the alleyway below, standing right under his window and looking back up at him.
Jimin froze. He knew that man. Recognized his long tan coat, and his deep, black eyes. It was the man from yesterday. The one he had run into on the street. And he was staring right back up at Jimin like he had finally found something worth looking at.
Jimin jerked back into his apartment and slammed the window shut. The glass rattled from the force behind his movements. “I’ve changed my mind, hyung,” he called out across the apartment. “I don’t want the windows opened. Can you close them, please?”
Unfortunately, there wasn’t too much else Hoseok could do for him besides ordering him way too much soup and promising to pick him up a box of black hair dye on his way home. “I’m sure it’s just some really weird bug,” his hyung assured him as he helped pile blankets on top of Jimin in his bed, though he sounded blatantly unsure of his own conclusion. “You probably picked it up when we went out last weekend. I didn’t trust that bartender anyway. Maybe he gave you something.”
“Maybe,” Jimin agreed, if only for his own peace of mind.
“I’ll come back and check on you when I’m done with work,” Hoseok assured him as he patted Jimin’s head. “If you’re not feeling better tomorrow, then I’ll take you to the doctor.”
And then Hoseok was gone, off to his dance studio, and Jimin was alone again with just the cold and the hunger for company.
As it was, Jimin didn’t feel any better the next day, though he begged off going to the doctor for a few more days, telling Hoseok that he didn’t want to spend the money if it ended up being nothing. He did cajole his friend into helping him dye his hair though, allowing him to keep himself wrapped up in cheap towels while Hoseok massaged black dye into his scalp. They kept the dye in for an extra thirty minutes just to be safe, but Hoseok still gasped in surprise as he held Jimin’s head under the kitchen sink.
“Um… I don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that,” Hoseok said, just loud enough to be heard over the water rushing by Jimin’s ears.
“What do you mean?” Jimin asked. He immediately had to spit water and hair dye back out into the sink.
“It’s not sticking to your hair. It’s just coming right off.”
“ What? ” Jimin pulled his head up from the sink despite Hoseok’s protests, flinging water everywhere. It dripped along the floor as he hurried into his bathroom, practically throwing the door open so he could get to the mirror.
Hoseok was right. The dye had already washed away in patches, leaving his hair only a light gray. As Jimin ran his fingers through it even more came off into his hand, leaving bright white streaks behind.
“This can’t be happening,” Jimin groaned as he collapsed onto the closed toilet lid, his head in his hands. “What am I gonna do?”
“Well, first,” Hoseok said as he stepped into the already cramped space and reached for the shower faucet, “you’re gonna wash that shit out of your hair before you turn your whole apartment black.” He gently took Jimin’s hands in his own and led him back to the running water. Thankfully he’d had the foresight to make it as hot as possible, so Jimin didn’t mind the way the shower also soaked the collar and shoulders of his shirt as it washed out the last of the dye. “After that,” Hoseok continued, “...I guess you’ll just have to wear a hat. Maybe people will start mistaking you for an idol.”
Jimin groaned. “Like that would happen. Besides, my job doesn’t let us wear hats. It’s against the dress code. My manager is gonna take one look at me and fire me on the spot.”
Hoseok hummed as he ran gentle fingers through Jimin’s hair, working out the last of the color. “I guess we should start looking at some good wigs.”
Jimin nearly sobbed.
Finally, after shivering his way through another miserable day, Jimin was forced to leave his apartment in search of food. There were only so many times Hoseok could afford to bring him soup, and with how ravenous his appetite had been, it was only a matter of time before he’d eaten through his entire kitchen.
Jimin put on as many layers as he could in preparation for going outside. Undershirts under long sleeves under his big puffy parka, even though the weatherman claimed it would be warm and muggy all day. He’d even wrestled on tights under his jeans, topping the look off with the thickest pair of socks he owned and a beanie to hide his hair. He kept his head down the entire walk to the grocery store, not wanting to see the looks people were doubtlessly giving him over his appearance. He kept his shoulders up, hands in his pockets, both to conserve warmth and to try and hide the way only two minutes outside already had him shivering.
Since his job prospects weren’t looking too good at the moment, Jimin filled up most of his basket with instant ramen and rice. He’d have to spring for at least a few vegetables and some meat to keep himself from getting even sicker, but, hopefully, his hyung would help him keep from becoming completely malnourished. Still, it was torture to stand among the refrigerated aisles, doing his best to compare prices on packages of meat as his fingers quickly went numb from the cold. His muscles ached terribly from all his shivering, his toes sore from how he kept curling them in, trying to keep them from going numb as well. His stomach was a yawning chasm, empty and demanding, a constant pain in his core that was making him salivate over frozen chicken.
“It looks good enough to eat raw, doesn’t it?” A voice from behind Jimin said.
He quickly turned around, surprised at having been addressed. He was even more shocked to find that it was the same man from before, the one outside his window, and on the way to his bus stop. He had on the same long, brown coat from before, being the only one in the store to match Jimin’s strange fashion choices. He stepped closer, and Jimin felt the same magnetic pull from before drawing him into the man’s endless black eyes.
“The hunger is driving you crazy by now, isn’t it?” the man continued. “It’s like your body can never get enough. Like you could eat half this freezer section raw and not even feel remorse.”
Jimin slowly lowered the packet of chicken back onto the shelf, not taking his eyes off the man. “Do you normally approach strangers in the supermarket like this?”
The man tilted his head. “You would still call me a stranger?”
Jimin crossed his arms. “Well, now that you mention it, “stalker” actually comes to mind first. Why have you been following me? You can’t be that mad that I bumped into you. If you’re a lawyer, I have no money, so there’s no point in suing me.”
The man smiled, revealing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth. “No, I’m not mad about running into you. I’m actually quite happy we got to meet.”
Jimin tried to take a step back but was soon stopped by the frozen shelves. “That’s not really helping you with the stalker allegations here.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I don’t mean to frighten you. It’s just been a long time since I’ve met someone like me.”
Jimin blinked. Was that supposed to be a shot at his sexuality? “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry,” the man said again, brows furrowed in frustration. “It seems like I’m offending you. What I’m trying to say is… well, have dinner with me?”
Jimin clasped his hands together, pasting on his most polite smile. “Sorry, but I’m not trying to get kidnapped today. So, if you’ll excuse me.” He tried to walk past the man, abandoning his basket behind him so he could get the hell out of there. The man was not deterred though and caught Jimin by the bicep as he passed by, his grip gentle but unyielding as Jimin tried to pull away.
“Listen,” the man said, jaw ticking with frustration, but his tone was hushed, “I know your body is changing right now, changing in ways you can’t explain. I have answers for you, but I can’t say them here.”
“Well, that changes everything,” Jimin said with a roll of his eyes. “I should definitely follow you to some private place where no one can hear me scream.”
The man huffed in annoyance. “You’re cold no matter how many layers you put on, you’re hungry even though you’ve been eating enough for two, and I’m assuming that beanie is hiding some inexplicable transformation you don’t want to show the public.”
Jimin swallowed. “Again, not helping the stalker case here.”
The man let go of Jimin’s arm. His tongue poked at his cheek. “I’m trying to help you. I know what you’re going through because I’ve seen people go through it before.”
Jimin raised a brow. “So what is it?”
The man shook his head. “You won’t believe me unless I show you.”
Jimin blanched. “I’m calling the cops.”
“I’m just asking you to dinner ,” the man insisted. “As in, at a restaurant where people would be around to hear you scream. If I even gave you something to scream about, which I won’t.”
Jimin gave him a pitying smile. "You're not very good at this, are you?"
The man glowered at him.
"That's okay, I'll go to dinner with you anyway. But we're walking there. I'm not dumb enough to get in a car with you."
The man sighed and straightened his jacket. "That's fine. It's close enough to walk anyway."
He offered out his arm, which felt at once both chivalrous and demeaning. Jimin walked past him instead, leaving him to catch up as they exited the supermarket, and then take the lead as they walked down the sidewalk. After his arm had been rejected the man shoved his hands into his pockets, and Jimin did the same as they fell into step with one another.
“So, mystery man, tell me your name,” Jimin said as they crossed the street.
The man gave him a small smile, clearly in a better mood now that Jimin was cooperating. He had a slight height advantage over Jimin, making the angle of his raised brow unfairly attractive. “Why, so you can report me to the police later?”
Jimin fought a smile. “Maybe.”
“That’s fine. It’s Jeongguk.”
Jimin hummed. “Mine is Jimin, but I bet you already knew that.”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “I didn’t, actually. That’s the problem with old-fashioned stalking. Names aren’t so easy to come by.”
Jimin’s expression pinched. “If you didn’t know my name then how did you find my apartment?”
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”
“Let me guess,” Jimin drawled, “you’ll have to show me?”
“Yep,” Jeongguk said, popping the p.
“Well, what makes me so special that I get to see all this super-secret, unbelievable stuff?” Jimin asked.
Jeongguk’s smile grew, making him appear almost giddy. “Because you’re one of us.”
“Mentally ill?” Jimin guessed.
“ No, ” Jeongguk laughed. “It’s something rare and old and magical.”
“Strange,” Jimin said, “freezing my balls off twenty-four-seven hasn’t made me feel very magical. And if I’m part of some secret magic club, why haven’t I known about it until now?”
“That’s because you’re just now waking up,” Jeongguk explained as he sidestepped a woman walking her dog, causing him to brush against Jimin’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m so lucky to have bumped into you. If I hadn’t you never would have known what you really are.”
“Wait, you did this to me?” Jimin practically screeched. “My life has been falling apart all because I met you? That’s not fair!”
Jeongguk gave him an affronted look. “I’m taking responsibility. Come on.” He opened a door, and Jimin nearly tripped over his own feet. He hadn’t realized that they had already made it to the restaurant.
Once inside he realized that Jeongguk had taken him to a barbeque place, the tables surrounding them all outfitted with their own grills and vents. Jeongguk, after greeting their hostess with a level of familiarity, asked for a private room, and they were both escorted to the back of the restaurant. Their room was fairly small, though the round table could clearly seat six. Jimin took the place across from Jeongguk and accepted the menu the hostess gave him, but before he could even open it Jeongguk placed an order for one of everything, with extra pork belly and lamb, and double the number of side dishes and rice. Jimin simply shrugged and handed his menu back over.
Once the hostess left and shut the door behind her Jimin steepled his fingers under his chin, fixing Jeongguk, who had yet to sit down, with a sharp look. “So, what is this unbelievable thing that you have to show me?”
Jeongguk just gave him a smile before shucking off his jacket and draping it over the back of his chair.
Jimin blinked. He sat up straight, fighting the urge to let his mouth fall open. At the bend of Jeongguk’s elbows and wrists were patches of shiny black scales. They refracted blue and purple in the light of the room as Jeongguk rotated his arms to show them off.
“Oh my god,” Jimin breathed, “you’re a lizard man.”
Jeongguk snorted. “I’m a dragon, actually. And so are you. Kind of.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Um, I think I would know if I was a dragon.”
“That’s because it’s only a small part of you,” Jeongguk explained calmly as he took his seat. “You’re a hybrid, at least a few generations removed from a full-blooded dragon. That’s why it’s been dormant inside of you, why it finally woke up when you came into contact with another one of your kind. I’m assuming one of your parents has been absent from your life?”
Jimin fidgeted in his seat, busying his hands with straightening his utensils. “Um, yeah. It was always just me and my mom. I don’t feel like a dragon though. I just feel cold and hungry and miserable all the time.”
“That’s because you’re not a dragon,” Jeongguk said as he poured Jimin a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. “You’re the descendant of a dragon. And you feel miserable because you haven’t been taking care of yourself properly.”
Jimin threw his hands up in exasperation. “Well, how was I supposed to know?” He leaned back and scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a groan. “This is fucking crazy. Descended from dragons, oh my god. And we’re just sitting here talking about it like it’s a normal conversation.”
“Well,” Jeongguk said as he poured his own glass, “it’s normal for me.”
“Right. Of course.” Jimin dropped his hands. “So I’m assuming you’re not so far removed from your dragon parent as I am. Or is my skin going to start changing too?”
Jeongguk smiled, and this time Jimin noticed the glint of his canines, the way they tapered into sharp points. “No, darling. I’m as full-blooded as they come.”
Jimin blanched. “ What? Be serious. You’re just a dude. Skin condition aside, I’m supposed to believe that you’re a dragon? ”
Jeongguk opened his mouth to respond, but just then a handful of servers came in with their food. Jimin noticed the way Jeongguk quickly hid his hands under the table, keeping his scales out of sight. They were both silent as the waiters unloaded the food onto the table and started up the grill, only voicing their thanks as the workers left.
“So, you’re still not convinced about what I told you,” Jeongguk said. He held out his hand, testing the heat of the grill, before grabbing the first tray of meat, some bulgogi marinated chicken, and sliding it onto the grill. The meat sizzled as it landed, the smell immediately causing Jimin to salivate. “Can I see your hand?” Jeongguk asked, holding his own out in invitation.
Thinking nothing of it, Jimin offered out his hand. Jeongguk carefully took it in his own, observing his palm for a moment, before he quickly flipped their hands and pressed them down onto the grill. Jimin yelped. He tried to pull his hand away, but Jeongguk’s grip wouldn’t budge. He struggled and cursed, so terrified that it took him a whole minute to realize that his hand wasn’t burning. It felt warm, sure, his fingers finally thawing out from their frozen state, but he wasn’t burning.
When Jeongguk finally released his hand Jimin slowly lifted it to his face. There were no burn marks, no discoloration, just a slight warmth that remained in his skin before slowly fading away.
“So,” Jeongguk said, “do you believe me now?
“Things like this, us, what we are, it’s not insane,” Jeongguk said as he reached for a pair of chopsticks, using them to flip some of the pieces of chicken on the grill. “It’s just improbable. Our kind has been close to extinct for the past three hundred years. Besides myself, only one other dragon is living in Korea. As far as I know, you’re the only hybrid. Soon, we will be nothing more than fairytale legends. You have to understand why I was so excited to meet you. Even as a hybrid, we are one step further from extinction.”
“No pressure or anything,” Jimin laughed, a little hysterical.
Jeongguk took a few pieces of chicken off the grill and put them on Jimin’s plate, making sure he had enough before he began serving himself. “You’re joking, but I really don’t intend to put any pressure on you. I would like to share our culture with you if you’d let me. But really, just knowing of your existence is enough for me.”
Jimin looked down at his hand again and ran a finger over his unblemished palm. It was crazy, but this was his life now. He could hide and keep being cold and miserable or he could lean into it. Besides, who didn’t want a magical life?
“Okay,” he said as he picked up his chopsticks, “teach me about dragons.”
Jeongguk gifted him with a smile, and it was blinding in its brightness.
The two of them had a lot of food to finish, and large stomachs to fill, so it gave Jeongguk ample time to give Jimin a crash course in dragonology. He explained that there were two subspecies of dragons, those that dwelled in mountains and those that lived in great bodies of water. Mountain-dwelling dragons had four legs and wings and could manipulate fire, while water-dwelling dragons were long, serpent-like creatures who were known for the infinite wisdom they had gained in their many years as guardians of rivers and oceans. Water guardians were more benevolent than their winged counterparts, more known for guiding humans than pillaging villages for jewels, but they were hunted all the same when the humans decided to purge the world of dragons.
It happened when the world was just on the verge of industrializing and when the human population was growing exponentially, all of them clamoring for limited resources. They began to resent how much space the dragons took up and how many resources were required to feed them. When it was decided that dragons would no longer be tolerated, the movement had rapidly spread through villages and countries alike.
“Are there still dragon hunters?” Jimin asked as Jeongguk was putting the last plate of meat on the grill.
“I’m afraid there will always be dragon hunters,” Jeongguk said over the sizzle of pork belly. “We are cursed to no longer exist in a world that will accept our kind. However, the number of dragon hunters currently in the world is minuscule at best. I’ve made sure of that.”
Jimin didn’t ask him to elaborate, and instead, let Jeongguk move on to talking about the seasonal holidays they observed and the rituals that came along with them.
When they were finally done with the food, when Jimin finally felt full for the first time in days, Jeongguk insisted on ordering another set for him to go as well as paying for the whole thing. Jimin put up a customary objection before conceding. It wasn’t like he had the money to pay for their meal anyway, and when Jeongguk pulled out a black card for the tab he was glad he had given in.
With two plastic bags of food at Jimin’s feet, the two of them began getting ready to leave, donning their coats and pushing their chairs in. Jeongguk rounded the table but stopped only an arm's length away from Jimin.
“I almost forgot,” he said, “I have a way to help you regulate your internal temperature, but I’ll have to touch you.”
“Okay,” Jimin said. He held out his hand, unsure of what to expect, though he certainly didn’t think that Jeongguk would step into his personal space, nor did he expect Jeongguk to kiss him.
Jimin almost backed away, almost slapped Jeongguk across the face, but then he felt it. The warmth. It started at where they were connected but quickly spread from there, moving down into Jimin’s belly before spreading out to the numbness of his limbs. Jimin’s knees were weak with it, with the intense relief spreading through his body. He fell back against the wall but Jeongguk followed him, pressing into him. Jimin’s hands found his hair, clutching at it, pulling him closer, hungry for more. He had forgotten what it was like not to be cold, and now he was desperate for warmth, desperate enough to shove his tongue down a stranger’s throat.
When Jeongguk finally, forcefully, pulled himself away, Jimin whined. “No, wait, come back.”
Jeongguk chuckled, wiping at his bottom lip. “I think you should be fine now. At least for a little while.”
Jimin stopped to take stock of himself. He did feel fine. He felt hot, actually, his multiple layers starting to feel suffocating. As soon as Jeongguk stepped back he shed his puffy coat and draped it over an arm. “What did you just do to me?”
“Hybrids lack an internal fire,” Jeongguk explained. “For dragons, it’s what keeps us warm despite our cold-blooded nature. Without one, you would eventually freeze to death. It’s why your hybrid side was dormant until you met another one of your kind. That was a survival technique.”
“Huh, well,” Jimin said as he pulled at his collar, trying to alleviate the heat, “thanks for keeping me from dying, I guess. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.”
Jeongguk just chuckled as he offered out his arm again, and this time Jimin took it. “Trust me, I have no complaints.”
“So,” Jimin started as Jeongguk opened the door to their private room and led him back out into the restaurant, “am I going to be this hungry all the time?”
“Unfortunately, yes. You know how some people say they’re so hungry they could eat a horse? That’s what most dragons eat in a day.”
Jimin groaned.
Finally feeling like himself again, Jimin went back to work the next day after almost a week of absences. Unsurprisingly, Human Resources took one look at his hair and his lack of a doctor’s note and told him to go ahead and start packing up his desk. Having expected this, Jimin had brought a small tote with him to pack his things in.
He called Hoseok on his way out the door, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder so he could use both hands to carry his box down to the bus stop. “It went exactly as I expected,” he informed his friend over the phone. “I think I might have set a new HR record for how short that meeting was.” He sighed as the bus pulled up to the curb in front of him. “Well, anyway, you know anyone desperate enough for a place to stay they’re willing to split a one-bedroom? My lease isn’t up for another few months.”
“Uhhh, I can’t say that I do,” Hoseok said. Jimin could hear a few of his instructors talking in the background. Hoseok was only ever at work this early when they had a big show coming up.
“You know,” Jimin said as he made his way up the bus steps, doing his best to juggle his box, phone, and transportation pass all at once, “it’s times like these that I wish my mom hadn’t convinced me to give up dance. Then I could be working with you instead of mentally revising my resume right now.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” There was the sound of a door shutting, and all of the background noise cut off. “You know how Youngsun, my receptionist, is about to have her baby? Well, she goes on maternity leave in two weeks, so if you can hold out until then I could totally hire you on as her temporary replacement. It wouldn’t be a permanent solution, and you’d probably be taking a bit of a pay cut, but at least you won’t be homeless.”
Jimin collapsed into a bus seat. Hoseok was right, it wasn’t perfect. He would probably have to eat into his meager savings for a bit, but when he pictured himself surrounded by excited children and smiling instructors and his always sunny best friend, he could feel himself finally starting to relax. “That actually sounds amazing,” he said. “You’re totally saving my ass right now, hyung.”
“You’re saving mine too,” Hoseok chuckled. “I had completely forgotten to get in contact with the temp agency until Youngsun said something this morning. I’ve been freaking out ever since.”
Jimin laughed as well. “You should come over tonight and we’ll talk about it more.”
“Okay, Minie. Be safe.”
Jimin gave his goodbyes as well, collapsing against the bus window in relief as he hung up the phone. He had just started an internet search for “general receptionist duties” when his phone buzzed with a new message.
Lizard-Man
How are you feeling?
Me
Much better now, thanks.
How are you?
Lizard-Man
I’m doing great.
Me
Planning my next dragon lesson?
Lizard-Man
I am now.
I didn’t even get to start on our oral histories.
Some of them pre-date mankind.
Me
Wow. Can’t wait.
Lizard-Man
You’re being sarcastic, but you’ll be begging me for another dragon lesson when you start to get cold again.
Me
Wait. WHAT?
You mean it WEARS OFF?
Lizard-Man
It depends on how thick your dragon blood is.
With you… I’m estimating about two weeks.
Me
Is this your way of asking me to dinner on the 15th?
Lizard-Man
Let’s make it the 13th, just in case.
I don’t want to get arrested for public indecency just because I’ve let you get too cold.
Me
Ha. Ha.
Same place?
Lizard-Man
Sure. Wherever you want, darling.
Me
Okay, it’s a date then!