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Hoseok has had plenty of reasons over the years to curse his Blessing. The visions that come to him sometimes during meditations are not a light burden to bear, but usually when his Blessing manifests he reports the vision to the head abbot at his temple and that’s where his personal responsibility ends. If Hoseok is called upon again, it is simply to clarify details to one of the clerks.
Never before has the abbot summoned Hoseok back to his office three days later, said that he had received a call from the king himself asking for a personal report, and informed Hoseok that he needed to travel to the capital by dragonback immediately.
Hoseok’s hands are clammy. The more stairs he climbs, the closer he gets to the dragon launch point, the more he sweats. Technically Hoseok could blame it on the sweltering summer heat, but he knows that in reality the sweat has little to do with the heat and everything to do with being scared shitless.
“Are you sure I couldn’t take one of the trucks?” Hoseok asks, trying not to wheeze. There are a lot of stairs.
Kim Namjoon, head dragon rider of the eastern peninsula, says, “The king requested your immediate presence, Your Holiness. A dragon will get you there considerably faster than ground transport.”
“Don’t you ‘Your Holiness’ me, Kim Namjoon,” Hoseok snaps. Namjoon may be a head dragon rider now, but when they were little—back before Hoseok manifested his Blessing and left to live at the temple—they had been next door neighbors and best friends.
Namjoon looks back over his shoulder and grins. “You’ll be fine, Hoseok. I’ve assigned you to the best rider we’ve got. Hell, he’s probably the best rider in the entire country.”
Hoseok sniffs, unwilling to be swayed. It’s not that he never leaves the temple, or that he never travels. There is, however, a considerable difference between riding in a vehicle that is safely on the ground and flying through the sky on the back of a deadly beast.
“Hey,” Namjoon says, reaching back to put a comforting hand on Hoseok’s arm. “I know this isn’t your first choice of transport. I told Seokjin about your fear of heights but— I mean, I’m not privy to the specifics of your vision, but Seokjin thinks it’s important enough that he doesn’t want to take any risks. You know dragon travel is the most secure way of getting to the capital.”
Hoseok nods along absentmindedly, more to help Namjoon feel better than because he’s actually listening. Then Namjoon’s words sink in through the general fog of anxiety currently occupying Hoseok’s brain, and Hoseok stops dead in his tracks.
“You’re on first-name terms with the king?”
Namjoon flushes slightly—or maybe that’s from the heat and exertion, there are so many damn stairs—and rubs at his neck. “I attended flight school at the same time as him. We were in the same unit for a while, before, you know.”
Before the Blood Moon Incident, when a group of extremists launched a hexcode attack that jammed most of the kingdom’s communicative technology, then infiltrated the palace and assassinated the king. It is still unsure if they meant to stage a coup, or if they were counting on the instability of having a teenager on the throne to make their next political move. Either way, they ultimately failed. Seventeen-year-old crown prince Kim Seokjin ascended the throne, and maintains a stable hold on it more than ten years later.
“I forgot he’d been in flight school,” Hoseok muses, mostly to himself. Hoseok had been aware of the Incident, of course. At that point he had been at the temple for years, and his Blessing was well and truly manifested. He’d had visions related to the fallout for years afterward. But when you spend most of your time in a secluded temple in the mountains, the outside world starts to feel abstract. It’s easy to forget that the king used to have a life outside of just being the crowned prince.
“It was a long time ago, now,” Namjoon says absently. Then, “We’re here.”
“Oh, finally. I thought the stairs would never end.” Hoseok follows Namjoon up the last handful of stairs and out onto a stone outcrop. There is a low building at one end, but otherwise the space has been cleared.
“I’ve seen the stairs up to your temple,” Namjoon says. “These ones are a walk in the park in comparison.”
“We also have a road, and trucks, like reasonable people.”
Namjoon smirks. “Yeah, and we have dragons.”
Right on cue, a dragon rises up above the edge of the stone. It circles lazily once, then comes down to land lightly in the clearing. Hoseok yelps and jumps backward. Namjoon, the ass, just laughs.
“Hey, Jungkook!” he calls out, waving up to the figure on the dragon’s back. The figure pulls a helmet off and waves— and then launches himself from the dragon’s back.
Hoseok yelps again, alarmed, but the figure lands safely in a crouch before standing and dusting his hands off. His hair—chin length and softly curling—flops over his eyes, and it should be silly, but instead the effect is charming. There’s a sheen of sweat on his muscular arms and a sparkle in his large doe eyes as he trots toward Namjoon and Hoseok.
What makes Hoseok’s heart catch in his throat, though, is that he knows this handsome, windswept man. He sees him every Saturday at the local marketplace, when Hoseok travels down to town with a group of other monks. Hoseok runs the temple’s market stall while the others go shopping and run errands, and every Saturday, without fail, Jungkook will stop by to buy tea.
Hoseok has had plenty of opportunities over the past year or so since Jungkook started visiting the stall to be thankful that his temple is not one of the orders that forbids lust or worldly relationships. Jungkook is hot, of course, but also sweet and a little bit shy. And he always compliments the Charmed bracelets out on display while waiting for Hoseok to prepare his tea leaves. Hoseok makes most of those bracelets personally, by hand. Anyone who admires them gets automatic bonus points in Hoseok’s books.
Hoseok just had no idea that Jungkook the adorable tea connoisseur was also a dragon rider.
“Hello!” Jungkook says, giving an enthusiastic bow. He straightens, sees Hoseok, and his eyes go wide as plates. “Oh! Hello, Your Holiness.”
“Jungkook,” Hoseok says. He returns the bow as gracefully as he knows. Then he turns to Namjoon and smacks him in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me I was traveling with Jungkook?”
“You know each other?” Namjoon asks. He looks between the two of them, eyebrows raised.
“We met at the weekend market,” Jungkook says. He’s talking to Namjoon, but he keeps staring at Hoseok.
“Ohhhh,” Namjoon says, drawing the sound out. “I get it. Hoseok is the hot market monk—”
“It’s so nice to see you!” Jungkook interrupts loudly. “I’m honored to accompany you to the capital!”
“The honor is all mine,” Hoseok says, then grins wickedly. “Hot market monk, huh?”
Jungkook flushes. “Um,” he says. “I mean. Yes? You’re, you know—” he gestures at Hoseok. “You’re very hot,” he finishes after a moment.
Hoseok preens. Today, like on market days, he is wearing typical monks’ garb—gray and loose and comfortable—and his hair is tied up in the topknot style his temple favors. He doesn’t think of himself as hot while he’s dressed this way. He’s just regular old Hoseok. Hot Hoseok is reserved for when he’s going out with intent. When he has his hair down, hanging loose to his shoulder blades, and is wearing clothes he has specifically chosen because they hug the shape of his body.
That Jungkook sees regular Hoseok and thinks he’s attractive is, well. It’s sweet, and more than a little flattering.
“You’re hot, too,” Hoseok says instead of thank you— and because it’s true.
“Are you two done yet?” Namjoon cuts in, ruining the moment. “Ow! Please stop hitting me, Seok.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hoseok says. He sticks his nose in the air. “I am a pacifist, sworn to nonviolence. I’ve never hit anyone in my life.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes. “If you say so. Anyway, I’ll go get your flight gear. Why don’t you go get acquainted with your dragon?”
Right. The dragon. The dragon that Hoseok is going to ride across the country with Jungkook.
Jungkook is already gesturing toward where the dragon has hunkered down and appears to be dozing in the heat. “If you’ll come this way, Your Holiness?” he asks.
Hoseok gulps. But he has a job to do, so he squares his shoulders, swallows his trepidation as well as he can, and follows when Jungkook starts to walk across the outcrop.
The dragon is gorgeous. Long and serpentine, with turquoise scales that shimmer in the midmorning sun and snowy white horns and whiskers. She’s also huge. As they approach she cracks open one yellow eye and regards them curiously.
“Hi baby,” Jungkook coos, reaching out to smooth a hand over her nose. She lets out a low grumbling sound that is probably contentment but makes Hoseok want to run for the woods.
“This is Maria,” Jungkook says, oblivious to Hoseok’s discomfort. “She’s easy to ride and great with beginners. Very calm, kind of like a placid pony.”
“I’ve never even seen a pony before,” Hoseok says, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice.
“Look, she’s really sweet. Here.” Jungkook holds out a peach, obviously expecting Hoseok to take it and feed it to the giant dragon sitting in front of them.
Hoseok stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “Her teeth are the size of my forearm.”
Jungkook laughs. “She won’t hurt you, I promise.” He reaches out and gently takes Hoseok’s hand. He places the peach in Hoseok’s palm, then wraps his own hand around Hoseok’s. He guides Hoseok’s arm out, closer and closer until Hoseok can feel the dragon’s warm breath against his skin.
“Just like that,” Jungkook says encouragingly. He slowly unfurls his fingers. Hoseok follows his lead until he’s holding the peach out flat on his palm. The dragon eyes him for a second. Then she reaches out, dainty as can be, and takes the peach in her teeth. She never so much as brushes Hoseok’s skin.
“Holy shit,” Hoseok breathes out. “Holy fucking hell.”
The dragon gives him an unimpressed look and swallows the peach whole.
“Fucking fuck,” Hoseok says.
“See?” Jungkook says. “Nothing to worry about.” He’s beaming, ridiculously handsome even when he’s amused at Hoseok’s expense. Fond annoyance for Jungkook and terror of the dragon swirl together into a strange emotional cocktail that leaves Hoseok frozen in place.
Thankfully Namjoon comes jogging back across the outcrop just then, holding an aviator jacket and a helmet in his arms. The helmet design reminds Hoseok of the one he wore the time a novice at the temple convinced him to ride the electric motorbike into town together. Hoseok had sat behind Yeonjun, holding on so tightly he lost circulation in his fingers, and screamed the entire way down the mountain. Then, shopping stored safely under the seat, he had screamed all the way back up the mountain.
That had been on the ground. Now Hoseok is going to have to wear a helmet and go flying through the air.
He really hopes Maria won’t mind having a screaming monk on her back.
“Here you go, Seok,” Namjoon says. He starts to hand the gear over before pausing and giving Hoseok a considering look. “Actually, why don’t you re-tie your hair first?”
“Oh, right.” Hoseok automatically reaches up until his hands come in contact with his topknot. He should have thought to style it differently before coming here. Everyone knows that dragon riders wear helmets.
“I have some logistics I need to go over with Jungkook, if you want to do that in the meantime,” Namjoon says. He pats the helmet in his arms. “I’ll hold onto these for you.”
“Thanks,” Hoseok says, giving Namjoon a grateful smile. Namjoon nods in reply before turning to Jungkook.
Hoseok’s hair is long enough that he uses several pins to help keep it in place. He pulls the pins out one by one, going by feel, and sticks them in his mouth. Then he carefully undoes the tie, letting his hair cascade down over his shoulder. His hair is temperamental from the humidity— but it doesn’t need to be pretty, it just needs to stay in place. He carefully runs his fingers through the strands, partitioning them, and begins to braid.
As he works he sneaks glances at Namjoon and Jungkook. Their conversation means nothing to him—wind speeds and flight paths and weather forecasts—but their expressions speak volumes. They’re both serious and intent. Jungkook is listening closely to Namjoon, nodding or giving confirmations when needed. Every now and then, though, his eyes flick over to Hoseok.
His gaze never lingers for long, but Hoseok allows himself to bask in the attention. Twice their eyes meet. Both times Jungkook’s eyes go wide, but he holds Hoseok’s gaze for a moment and smiles just slightly before looking back to Namjoon.
Hoseok throws his finished braid over his shoulder. The pins get stuck in haphazardly, in places he hopes will help keep everything from unraveling the second he puts the helmet on. He continues to watch Jungkook, not bothering to hide it this time. It’s easier to look at Jungkook, dashing and glowing in the sun, than to look over at the dragon waiting beside them. If Hoseok is thinking about how cute Jungkook is, he isn’t thinking about how terrifying Maria is, or his fear of heights, or his impending journey.
Unfortunately, he can’t put off thinking of it for long. Not when the king is waiting for him.
Hoseok clears his throat. “I’m done,” he says.
Namjoon and Jungkook stop talking and look over. Namjoon takes in Hoseok’s hair and nods approvingly. “That should work fine,” he says. He holds out the jacket. “You ready to suit up and go?”
“No,” Hoseok says. He takes the jacket anyway. He slips it on, then grimaces as he instantly begins to sweat.
“Sorry,” Namjoon says. “The saddle will protect your legs from the wind, but you’ll need this. I promise you’ll appreciate it once you’re in the air.”
“Hold off on the helmet for now, though. It’s easier if you put it on after you’re all strapped in,” Jungkook adds. He grins at Hoseok. “You ready to mount up?”
“No,” Hoseok says again. He’s not, but he’s starting to accept that this is something that is truly happening to him, and that he might as well get it over with sooner rather than later.
Jungkook, thankfully, seems to understand. He walks around to Maria’s side, and indicates a rope ladder hanging down from the saddle. “Do you think you can get up alright using this, or would you like a boost?”
Hoseok eyes the ladder nervously. Getting up should be no problem. Getting close enough to touch the dragon is a whole different issue. But Jungkook is standing there watching expectantly, so Hoseok steels himself and steps closer to the ladder.
“I’ll be fine,” he announces, mostly for his own benefit. “I can do this.”
Another step closer, then he closes his eyes and reaches out to grab the first rung of the ladder. His fingers brush against Maria’s side. Her scales are rough but warm. She doesn’t so much as flinch at the contact.
“Okay,” Hoseok says. “Okay, okay.” Then he opens his eyes, grips the ladder more firmly, and hoists himself up.
He hums quietly to himself as he climbs— a habit that not even years of getting scolded during meditations managed to break. He focuses solely on the next rung ahead of him, until suddenly there are no rungs left and he’s face to face with the saddle on Maria’s back. There are two seats: one in front, with a discarded jacket and helmet tossed haphazardly over it, and one in the back. Hoseok hauls himself into the back seat.
Once he’s sitting he squeezes his eyes shut. Holy shit. Holy shit, this is happening. The saddle feels stable, but he can also feel it slowly rising and falling with Maria’s breath. Hoseok is extremely glad for the anti-nausea medicine the head abbot had given him before he left. Otherwise he would quite possibly be scrambling back down the ladder to empty his stomach.
The saddle jostles. Hoseok opens his eyes, and Jungkook is there in front of him.
“Welcome aboard, Your Holiness,” Jungkook says.
“Please drop the holiness stuff,” Hoseok whines. “I’m scared shitless and not feeling at all holy at the moment.”
Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. The sound helps calm Hoseok’s nerves enough that he adds, “Besides, our Order doesn’t hold strictly to formalities— at least not among friends.”
“Friends,” Jungkook says, eyes and nose crinkling with the force of his smile.
“Heads up,” Namjoon calls from below. Seconds later, Hoseok’s helmet comes flying up into the saddle. Jungkook catches it with ease.
“Thanks!” he calls back down.
“I’m going to head off the launch site now,” Namjoon says. The words are obviously addressed to Hoseok, so he makes an effort to lean over and look down at Namjoon.
Technically Hoseok’s not that far up. When he climbs to the highest point of the temple and looks back out over the grounds he’s much higher off the ground. But for some reason the effect is different, knowing that he’s sitting on a dragon. From up here, Namjoon looks terrifyingly small.
“I’ll wait in the lookout station until you’ve taken off,” Namjoon adds.
“Okay,” Hoseok says. It comes out too quiet. He clears his throat. “Thank you, Joon.”
“Safe flying.” Namjoon waves, then tucks his hands into his pockets and ambles off toward the building.
“Alright Hoseok, let’s get you buckled in,” Jungkook says.
Hoseok likes the way his name sounds in Jungkook’s voice. “Okay,” he says again, this time with more conviction.
Jungkook’s hands are sure as he adjusts the straps that will hold Hoseok to the saddle. He works efficiently, with a confidence that in turn gives Hoseok confidence. Jungkook has done this so many times he could probably do it in his sleep. Hoseok will be fine. He will.
“Last one,” Jungkook says as he secures a buckle that fastens around Hoseok’s waist. The action brings him in close; Hoseok’s skin tingles at the proximity, even buried beneath layers of clothes. The clasp snaps into place with a quiet pop, and Jungkook says, “There.”
Jungkook looks up at Hoseok and smiles. He’s still so close, leaning into Hoseok’s space, and for one exhilarating moment Hoseok’s heart thuds wildly in his chest. He can see Jungkook’s eyelashes, the faint scar on his cheek.
Then Jungkook starts to pull away, reaching for Hoseok’s helmet. A flash of color catches Hoseok’s eye, and before he can stop to think he’s saying, “Wait,” and reaching out to gently catch Jungkook’s wrist.
Jungkook is wearing a small collection of bracelets. Among them is one Hoseok recognizes. Round wooden beads dyed in shades of magenta, strung together in an alternating pattern. Hoseok runs his fingers across them, disantly aware that he’s being weird, but—
Hoseok made that bracelet.
Jungkook bought it over a year ago, the very first time he visited Hoseok’s market stall. Everyone knows that the Charms on the bracelets last a handful of months at best. Any powers Jungkook’s bracelet may have once had have long since faded. Usually, when bracelets fade, people stop bothering to wear them. And yet, Jungkook is still wearing his.
“For luck.”
Jungkook’s voice startles Hoseok out of his thoughts. He looks up, and Jungkook is staring back at him.
“The bracelet,” Jungkook says. “It’s for luck.”
“I know,” Hoseok says. The day he bought it, Jungkook had only been shopping for tea. Hoseok had managed to talk him into a bracelet, too. The bracelet was Hoseok’s favorite from the batch, and he’d been so pleased when Jungkook—just a handsome stranger back then—had added it to his purchase. “I remember. But… you know the Charm has run out, right?”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah. But it’s pretty. I like wearing it.” He glances down at Hoseok’s hand on his wrist, then back to Hoseok’s face. “Besides, it reminds me of you.”
Hoseok sucks in a breath. He is acutely aware that he is sitting on a dragon, and is about to hurtle through the air on its back to meet the king. But Jungkook is so close, and looking at Hoseok so sweetly, equal parts flirtatious and shy.
“Jungkook,” Hoseok says. “Can I kiss you?”
Jungkook’s eyes go wide, like Hoseok’s overwhelming attraction to him is some sort of surprise, but he’s quick to nod. “Yes,” he breathes out, and Hoseok is already leaning in.
The first touch of lips is fleeting. Their noses bump, and Jungkook pulls back with a breathless laugh. Hoseok laughs too, but only once before he is reaching out to slide his hand along Jungkook's cheek. He presses lightly, adjusting the angle before guiding him back until they're kissing properly.
Jungkook’s lips are soft. They slide against Hoseok’s in a way that makes Hoseok shiver despite the heat. He wants to pull Jungkook even closer, press their bodies together until there’s no space left between them. Kiss along Jungkook’s jaw, down his neck. Jungkook seems to feel the same way, making a frustrated noise as he tries to lean in closer. But no matter how they shift positions, there’s no escaping the way the saddle cuts between them.
For a second it seems like Jungkook may just climb over the divide and straight into Hoseok’s lap. The hands he had braced against Hoseok’s shoulders for balance curl into fists. Finally, reluctantly, he pulls away.
“I swear, if the king wasn’t waiting…” he says, sending a fresh shiver down Hoseok’s spine.
“I’ll be down in town next week,” Hoseok says. “Visiting my parents. I could visit you, too.”
The displeased furrow between Jungkook’s eyebrows instantly disappears and his entire face lights up.
“You’d want that?” he asks. “You’d want to visit me?”
“I’d like to do a lot more than just visit you,” Hoseok says, quirking an eyebrow.
Jungkook’s gaze turns hungry. Before he can take the chance to vault over the divide after all, Hoseok darts in and presses one more quick kiss to his lips.
“For luck,” he says after, and winks.
He doesn’t have much chance to be smug, though, because Jungkook leans in and kisses Hoseok’s forehead, so gentle that Hoseok melts.
“For luck,” Jungkook repeats. Then he breaks into a shit-eating grin and picks up Hoseok’s helmet. “You’re gonna need it, it’s an hour ride to the capital.”
Hoseok’s stomach swoops at the reminder that in a few short seconds he’ll be in the air, and with that same fond annoyance Jungkook tends to elicit— and perhaps with the start of something else Hoseok doesn’t quite want to put a name to yet.
“Fuck,” he says, with feeling. Then: “Let’s do this.”
———
Hoseok screams when they take off. And when Maria swerves to avoid a flock of birds. And when they wheel above the landing site outside the capital. And when they land. And then again several times on their trip back.
Jungkook teases him a little bit, but he makes sure Maria flies as steadily as possible, and doesn’t complain when Hoseok holds onto him for support when they’re finally back on the ground.
Jungkook doesn’t complain the following weekend, either, when Hoseok holds him tight for entirely different reasons.