Work Text:
Why is my life like this?
Winter just wanted to sleep during the night like a normal dragon, but his winglet seemed to have other plans. There he lay on his bed, which was just a glorified stone slab, but it’s not like they had anything different in the Ice Kingdom. He was used to this. It was even comfy, if not a little warm.
But what he wasn’t used to was all of the other dragons. He’d only been there for one day, but it felt like an eternity. This was nothing like back home, where everyone else mostly left him alone and he could live in peace. That was disregarding his parents and all the other dragons that bothered him, but most of them knew better. While not the top of the mountain, the second circle was a pretty respectable place to be, and most dragons didn’t rank high enough to be permitted to bother him.
And it was better that way!
11PM, he walked in with his friends. Err, well, they were all walking in as a group, but one dragon stuck out to him more than anyone else.
Winter was tripping off the deep end. That dragon was a SandWing, and yes, this was a school where every tribe was present and that was literally its whole purpose, but he didn’t actually expect to be impressed.
“Oh hey. Everyone, this is my clawmate Winter! Nephew of Queen Glacier, but I’m sure he’d tell you if you ever dared talk to him,” he said with a wink. In the few seconds Winter had to think about what to say, he already ran out of time. The SandWing had already turned back to the group. “Oh, I think he’s trying to sleep. We should probably let the prince be. Wouldn’t want Queen Glacier on our tails, right?”
The group laughed, and they were gone seconds later. Winter’s head was spinning. As much as he hated himself for it, he needed to find out more about that SandWing.
He could already hear his parents’ disapproval in his head as he got up to follow them.
“What’s your favorite color?”
It was a stupid opener and Winter knew it. But what else was he even supposed to say? He was so used to knowing everyone’s name, or at least having it told to him.
Luckily for him, the SandWing was alone in the hallway. Unluckily for him, he heard what Winter said and simply pointed at his waist, where a grey sweater sat snugly against his golden yellow body.
As ridiculous as the color combination was, there was something much more glaring to Winter. Every time he saw him (which was about twice so far, but still), this SandWing acted like he knew everything. So how did he not realize the issue with his answer?
Perhaps Winter had the upper talon here after all.
“That’s not a color, it’s a shade,” he said with a huff.
And the SandWing just stared at him. Winter watched as his expression of confusion shifted into a grin in less than a second. He laughed as he regarded Winter, shaking his head in delight. Maybe that line wasn’t so stupid after all?
“Don’t disagree with me.”
And then he walked away.
What the fuck was happening? Winter sat there, left aghast as he was outplayed for the second time that night.
Winter didn’t even get his name. But it was killing him either way. He was pacing around his cave, assured that eventually that SandWing would return. He had to, right? It was literally where his bed was. But then again, he’d noticed non-IceWings seemed to be a lot more lenient on rules.
Which actually was great, because it meant he could easily stand out as being a good, rule-abiding student and represent his tribe to demand the respect that they did.
Yet it was also terrible. It meant there was a chance, no matter how small, that he wouldn’t see this ridiculous SandWing again anytime soon. And since he didn’t have his name, he couldn’t just track him down.
Well, he could just read the scroll that listed who was in each winglet, but he also wouldn’t really be surprised if the SandWing wasn’t even supposed to be here.
Honestly, it was killing him. He could either give up, or stay up and wait for this annoyingly charming SandWing to come back. There was just something about gold and gray that was fitting. Gold on itself was kind of an eyesore, but if you balanced that out…
That stupid grey sweater was gonna be on his mind all night.
Where the fuck was he?
What was he even waiting for?
Was this a mistake?
Maybe this wasn’t worth his time after all…
Laughter and light talonsteps snapped Winter out of his introspection. He froze, taking care to be silent as they grew louder. It was him, and Winter knew it.
Staring at a doorframe wasn’t how Winter imagined he would be spending his first night at Jade Mountain, but it might as well be his last if he couldn’t accomplish the one thing he wanted to do.
It was 3AM, and his clawmate walked in and took a hit from… a vape? Winter’s anticipation of seeing this SandWing again all but froze over, but he was already caught in the act of staring, so he couldn’t just pretend he was sleeping or do anything else to avoid this conversation.
What was the course of action? He didn’t know. Maybe he should just say what was on his mind.
“That shit is gonna kill you,” he said matter-of-factly. Smoking wasn’t exactly banned in the Ice Kingdom, but it was kinda like using the Gift of Subsistence. He’d never be caught doing either—besides, why would he even want to?
For lack of a better descriptor, the SandWing didn’t give a fuck. He just laughed, taking another hit from his obscenely glittery vape pen before staring directly at Winter.
He kinda smiled. Well, for a second, before he blew a vape cloud directly into Winter’s face.
“Well, now you’re gonna die too.”
Flabbergasted wasn’t quite the word for how Winter was feeling, but a better term failed him as he coughed from the sudden influx of the “it’s hard to breathe” feeling.
And yet, somehow—through all of the red flags and horrific experiences, Winter still wanted to get to know this guy.
Even worse: he had to accept that fact, because if he didn’t, all of his efforts would’ve gone to waste.
Like waiting 4 hours in his cave doing absolutely nothing.
“Uh…” he started. The SandWing glanced in his direction, but it mostly just looked like he was staring at his vape. Winter swallowed the lump in his throat. “If you wanna hang out or something, you should hit me up.”
The gold dragon simply laughed. He turned to leave, presumably to leave Winter in his misery.
As he was standing in the cave exit, Winter heard him say one last thing.
“I know your dying wish is to be baptized in my spit.”
Qibli.
Qibli…
His name was Qibli.
He crumpled up the scroll and shot a plume of frostbreath at it, suspending the Winglet info in a disarray of ice crystals.
It felt good, but also bad. Well, bad because the ice would melt and get the cave wet. Actually freezing it felt pretty damn good.
And after his whole experience (if that was even the end), Winter felt a little better about not finding out the violently charming SandWing’s name directly. It was like Qibli was testing him. Seeing how far he could bully Winter before he broke.
And for moons’ sake, it was working. Winter didn’t even know if Qibli was interested in him on even remotely the same level as he was, but what other reason would he be so relentless?
Winter sighed. It was sometime around 6AM by now, which is about when he’d wake up on a normal day in the Ice Kingdom. Someone would probably walk in at any second and notice the restlessness in the room.
He was doing a pretty bad job of representing the IceWings. Icicle would probably freeze him if she knew what he’d been up to, yet at the moment, he felt more like he was melting.
Melting for Qibli and his dumb, ridiculous, unrelentingly charming demeanor.
And as Winter thought Qibli’s name, he busted right into the room as if on call. (Well, you can’t really bust into a room that doesn’t have a door, but still.)
This time, neither of them said anything. Neither of them were doing anything weird, and neither of them seemed to care that much, at least on the outside. Winter had long accepted what he was feeling on the inside. That, and tons of frustration that could be interpreted as longing. Or maybe it was longing that felt a lot like frustration?
What the fuck?
“You look kinda warm there, Winter.”
Winter tilted his head to the side, attempting yet horribly failing to decipher what Qibli was insinuating.
“What?” He did not like where this was going.
“It looks like you’re melting for me.”
He may as well have turned into a puddle then and there.