Work Text:
Yingxing has been in his new home for a month when the incidents begin.
It’s only small things: a curio on the table instead of the chair where he left it, a window open that he could have sworn he had closed, papers shuffled out of order. At first he thinks his memory is going, but these unobtrusive occurrences add up until he’s certain it is not something as simple as forgetfulness.
It has him on edge because Yingxing is the only person living on this mountain. He moved here, far from civilization for the fresh mountain air, clean of the cities’ pollution. This was his concession to the progression of his chronic lung disease. He can’t give up forging, but at least here, he can open the doors and windows wide to let out the smoke without disturbing the neighbors. And he’s glad he took his physician’s advice. There has been a noticeable improvement in his symptoms, fewer episodes of respiratory attacks and less frequent need of his breathing treatments, though it has taken some getting used to—the isolation.
Yingxing is a social creature at heart. While he could disappear into his forge for days at a time, he knew all his neighbors, the local shopowners, would always greet them by name and stop for a chat when he was out and about.
Over the weeks, he has become more accustomed to this solitary life, though it is still rather lonely.
He has idly wished for company but… this was most certainly not what he meant. He adds more security measures, locking the windows and double barring the doors, putting up wards, but it keeps happening.
He’s beginning to genuinely freak out—how the hell is whoever or whatever it is still getting in? —and then one evening, he returns from the forge to find the edge of a small paw print on the disturbed blueprints on his home desk.
The little guy seems to have inadvertently stepped in Yingxing’s unwashed inkstone, tracking a small smudge of ink onto the papers like a guilty delinquent leaving behind their dirty fingerprints. Yingxing snorts aloud at the thought, lips quirking as he holds the page up to the light. It’s only a partial print showing at least three toes. Yingxing squints. Or… maybe claws? But he can’t make out what kind of creature it is.
Regardless, this discovery has his fearful tension dissipating like smoke, tensed shoulders slumping with relief. It’s just a cute little guy and, Yingxing reflects, it has never done him any harm. Now that he isn’t thinking of malevolent spirits or humanoid intruders, he can see that the creature only seemed inquisitive, curious about this new resident on the mountain. Yingxing still has no idea how it’s getting in, but it’s more of a curious mystery now than a critical security breach.
Storing the page away, Yingxing stretches out his shoulders, arms above his head, able to relax for the first time in weeks. He decides to treat himself to a nice long soak in the hot springs tonight before turning in.
The hot springs in his backyard is the very reason he decided to build his new home and forge here, both because of its benefits to his respiratory health and for simple hedonistic enjoyment. The natural hot spring was no more than a small undeveloped pool draining away into multiple burbling tributaries when he first arrived, but Yingxing built a large stone bath to contain the spring, sealing off the streams so the mineral water would pool in the tub, leaving a single underground runoff to drain the outflow.
Changing into a thin linen robe, he grabs his towel and basket of bathing essentials, slips on his wooden sandals and heads out back. Yingxing strolls the short walk there leisurely, enjoying the fresh night air as the luxurious hot springs comes into view. Yingxing loves this bath. He had really indulged himself, making it large enough to swim in, the size of a small pool. There’s even a lounge area to the side, a smooth wooden deck with comfy chairs where one can cool off between dips.
As always, the hot water is magic on his sore muscles, Yingxing groaning in pleasure as he sinks into the springs. Resting his head on the ledge, he gazes up at the moon and stars. He has just the thing to make this the perfect extravagance—a bottle of chilled wine.
Yingxing hums in pleasure. “This is the life.” Reaching the bottom of the small cup, he sets it on the ledge beside the wine bottle.
A single glass. The height of luxury, but no one to share it with.
“It’s a little lonely,” Yingxing admits to the stars above. Sighing he pours himself another cup of wine—a small one should be fine. He’s sipping it indolently when something shimmers in the water, floating past. Yingxing plucks it from the surface with his free hand. “A scale?” It’s smooth as pearl, shining iridescently beneath the moonlight.
And it’s larger than his palm.
“Aeons above.” Is there some giant snake or lizard enjoying his hot springs?
The moment the thought crosses his mind, Yingxing leaps out of the water, revolted by the thought. He nearly hurls the scale away, but tosses it to the deck. “Shit,” Yingxing moans in despair. “I was finally relieved there wasn’t something haunting my house and now this. He runs flustered hands through his hair. “What the hell is invading my hot springs? Please, please, Aeons, don’t let it be a giant snake.” He shudders in disgust, stomach roiling, his previous relaxation a distant dream.
Hurrying to the deck, Yingxing towels himself off thoroughly and puts his robe back on. Reluctantly picking the scale off the deck, Yingxing slumps into a chair, holding it up to the light to study it, turning it this way and that.
…
…
“…It’s beautiful.” Ethereal. Shifting colors between blue and green glimmering over the surface like sea waves.
This… doesn’t seem like something that would belong to some foul creature.
“Ugh, I don’t know.” Yingxing scrubs a hand over his face. He tucks the scale into his basket and heads home with a dejected slump to his shoulders.
~
After taking an extended shower, Yingxing sits down at his desk, the—probably a claw—print on the left and the giant scale on the right. The sizes are too disparate for it to be the same home invader, but it reminds him of the folktales he had heard in the village town just past the foot of the mountain. The home of the dragons, or so they had claimed despite the dragon race not having been seen in a century at least.
Wanting to rid himself of the discomfort still cramping his gut, Yingxing lets himself fantasize about dragons visiting his home.
“A small noodle and a giant noodle.”
He laughs to himself at the thought of having lured a mystical dragon out of obscurity with his hot springs, and feels a little better.
~
Yingxing is still unable to face his beloved hot springs for the next two days though.
What if he encountered that giant—serpent? Lizard?
But it’s in his backyard, unignorable, and Yingxing has never been a coward.
His bladework is decent. If it is a giant snake, he’ll slay it, and have his springs to himself again, no longer sullied by the creature.
Decided, Yingxing straps on his sword that night and goes to patrol the springs.
~
Yingxing finds his intruder.
Or, it’s not so much that he finds it. It’s just—unmissable. Massive.
“Uh,” Yingxing says dumbly, standing a foot from the water’s edge and staring at the dragon ensconced in his hot springs.
Sea-colored scales shimmer beneath the moonlight, two crystalline cerulean horns rising majestically from its crown. Too immense to completely fit in the springs, the dragon’s sinuous body is partly coiled in the bath, a powerful tail curving out of the water to lie upon the stone ledge.
Objectively, the creature is magnificent. Dazzling.
…But it’s honestly really difficult to appreciate the noble majesty of the dragon when it’s draped over the hot spring stones like this, chin resting on the ledge of one side and tail half draped over the far end, looking very much like a lazy overcooked noodle.
“Er, that’s my bath,” Yingxing says dumbly.
“A most extraordinary creation,” the dragon says to him, not even opening its eyes.
It speaks! And—it’s, praising him? A dragon.
Yingxing’s thoughts are chaotic, his mind a disorganized mess.
“Thank you, but I should like to have use of it myself,” Yingxing tries.
This seems to give the dragon pause, cracking an eye open to examine him.
The dragon thinks it over.
“I will allow you to join me,” it says magnanimously, permitting Yingxing to enter his own hot springs.
“I’m shy,” Yingxing lies. “I prefer to bathe alone.”
Both eyes open, the dragon tilting its head against the stone.
“You’re not very respectful,” Yingxing’s interloper observes. “Your kind tend to be humbled in my presence.”
Well, you look like an overcooked soup noodle, still in the soup, Yingxing absolutely cannot say.
“I’m in shock.” His storytelling abilities are being strained to their limits today. “I thought your kind were—” extinct “—ahem, could no longer be encountered.”
“Yet here I am,” the dragon says, unconcerned.
“Yes, here you are,” Yingxing can’t suppress his growing annoyance despite knowing it’s unwise to provoke this being. “In the bath I built with my own two hands. This is my property.”
Abruptly, the dragon rears up, eyes luminescent with power. Alarmed, Yingxing’s hand flies to the sword hilt at his waist, heart rabbiting in his chest.
“Your property?” The dragon’s voice is so resonant that it makes the earth beneath Yingxing’s feet rumble, his ears aching as he retreats a step. “These lands have belonged to I, Yinyue-jun, the Azure Dragon for nigh on millennia. This mountain is my dominion and you, mortal, are the interloper.”
Oh fuck. The legendary Azure Dragon? What kind of dog luck does Yingxing have? And he’s royally pissed it off, the menacing power of its aura pressing down on him, compressing his lungs.
“I—” Yingxing wheezes, but it’s all he can manage, gasping desperately as his airways constrict, the worst respiratory attack he’s had since arriving, set off by the strain on his lungs. He crumples to the ground, clutching his chest.
“Mortal?” The dragon sounds startled, but its voice is faint in his ears. The oppressive aura has long lifted, but Yingxing is still wheezing frantically, vision dimming—
~
When Yingxing opens his eyes, there’s a massive dragon snout nearly in his face, two large oceanic orbs staring at him with intense focus. He gasps in shock, but it’s the dragon who panics.
“Calm yourself,” the dragon commands anxiously, its voice infused with power. “Breathe.”
Yingxing’s body obeys, and he finds that he can breathe, with astounding ease as if the attack never happened. This episode had been so severe that it should have laid him out for a day or two.
Did the dragon do something?
Taking slow, deep breaths, he scans his surroundings.
He’s at the wooden deck, sitting in—sitting in one of the dragon’s clawed hands, holding him gingerly as if he’s made of glass while half of the dragon’s serpentine body is still submerged in the springs. The dragon also retrieved his sword, now propped against a chair.
“You are in ill health,” the dragon, Yinyue-jun, observes, still holding him, but having drawn back his head, that large maw at a less alarming distance.
Yingxing nods. “That’s why I moved here—for the clean air. I’m told there’s no place with greater atmospheric purity. I have a disease of the lungs that has continued to worsen until even just breathing in the fumes of the city would trigger an attack like the one you just witnessed.” He swallows. “I know these lands have remain untouched, but no one could say why. I went through the proper procedures to purchase the rights to build on an acre of these lands, and it was formally approved by the Realm-Keeping Commission of Xianzhou.”
Yingxing tries to straighten for a formal bow, but a single talon pins him in place at the waist. He lowers his head as best he can. “My sincere apologies for intruding, Yinyue-jun. Ignorance is a poor excuse, but I truly had no way of knowing and meant you no ill.” He keeps his head down, awaiting the dragon’s judgment.
Yinyue-jun is silent for a long moment.
“Times have changed,” the dragon muses. “Lift your head mortal.” Yingxing raises his eyes to see Yinyue-jun’s contemplative expression. “Perhaps the advances of civilization have allowed your ‘purchase’ to slip the obscuration of my spells. Your Realm-Keeping commission should know these lands exist, while not knowing of them.”
That sounds quite complicated. A spell that confounds? Or perhaps misdirection, misperception…
“The springs,” Yinyue-jun says in sudden revelation. “They alleviate your ailment.”
“Yes.”
At the confirmation, Yinyue-jun moves as if to immediately dunk him in the hot springs.
“Wait! I still have all my clothes on!” Yingxing hurries to protest.
Yinyue-jun frowns at him, but finally releases Yingxing, setting him carefully on the deck. “Then remove them posthaste and come into the springs.”
Yingxing still has reservations about bathing with a dragon, but it’s evident that Yinyue-jun isn’t going to accept a refusal. He briskly strips off his clothes, folding them on the chair, and turns to find the dragon staring at him.
Actually, Yinyue-jun’s line of sight seems to be a bit… low?
Would an ancient dragon perv on a mere mortal? Yingxing wonders doubtfully.
“Do not delay,” Yinyue-jun chivvies him impatiently.
“Alright, alright.” Compliantly, Yingxing climbs into the water.
Yinyue-jun slithers slowly around the springs, rearranging his coils so that Yingxing isn’t crowded against the wall. He rests his snout a short distance from where Yingxing has tilted his head back on the ledge.
“Pardon my rudeness, Yinyue-jun. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Yingxing, Furnace Master of Xianzhou Luofu.”
“Yingxing,” Yinyue-jun murmurs. “Yingxing, Furnace Master of Xianzhou Luofu, I will not deny you this relief for your illness. For it would be a shame if one of such talent had to cross the Naihe Bridge ahead of their time.”
Talent? Yinyue-jun means the hot springs? Or…
“You may live upon these lands, but I will allow no other, visitor or otherwise.” At this, Yinyue-jun’s brow creases. “However, is it not dangerous for you to live alone in this remote place? Would it not be better for you to reside in the village where you could seek assistance should you have another attack?”
“Thank you for your grace, Yinyue-jun.” Yingxing relaxes in relief at having received permission to stay. “It’s not as dangerous as that. My condition is not so advanced that a single attack would take my life. I would have plenty of time to go down the mountain and seek aid. And should I be unable to do so, I have an emergency phone…” Yingxing gives Yinyue-jun an entreating look.
The dragon nods after a moment. “I will permit emergency aid to come up the mountain, should it be necessary.”
“Thank you.”
“Hm.” The dragon’s tail flicks. “You may consider my use of these hot springs your tenancy fee.”
Yingxing barks out a laugh, surprised that the ancient dragon has a sense of humor.
Yinyue-jun narrows his eyes at him, snout moving close again. “So you are not shy.”
Yingxing clears his throat. “Ahem, well…”
“Hmph.”
The dragon’s head moves away, eyes closing as it lazes into the springs.
Yingxing gazes up at the moon, marveling at his situation, bathing with a dragon, the divine Azure Dragon. For a while, there is only the soft sounds of their breaths as they enjoy the hot springs in silence. The gentle, wave-like expansion of the dragon’s torso as it breathes, the occasional sinuous movements of its tail, are fascinating to observe.
“Yinyue-jun, would you answer a curiosity of mine?”
“Only those who intend to ask something offensive would request permission,” Yinyue-jun notes shrewdly.
“Mmhm. So may I?”
The tail sways against the far wall of the springs. “Very well.”
“Do you have the ability to change your form? Say… shift your size or the like?” Yingxing asks innocently.
A pause. “Whyever would I do such a thing.”
“So you can’t?”
One eye opens to glower at him. “You are very insolent, Yingxing of Xianzhou Luofu.”
“Just Yingxing is fine, Your Highness,” he dares to tease. “I was simply wondering what works of mine you have seen to be able to judge my talent.”
Yinyue-jun scowls. “I do not see how the two are related.”
Yingxing tilts his head, giving the dragon his most charming smile. “Are they not? My illness, it’s more prone to act up when exacerbated by stress. You see, I’ve been quite anxious lately, having received an unidentified visitor who bypasses all my security measures.”
Yingxing eyes the agitated tail movements—as good as an answer.
“For such a vigorous appearing man, you are exceedingly delicate,” Yinyue-jun grumps, tone sulky.
“Nothing short of an Emanator has ever gotten past three entire layers of my wards,” Yingxing explains. “Then again, I’ve never tried to deny entry to a divine dragon.”
“…As I said, talented. I am not one to give praise lightly.” Yinyue-jun maintains his lofty tone. “You should be honored.”
“I am deeply honored to have been graced with your presence,” Yingxing returns smoothly, feeling giddy because he was right. His fanciful imaginings—Yinyue-jun as a small noodle—
Yingxing counts his breaths slowly to restore his composure. It might be trouble if Yinyue-jun guesses the line of his thoughts. “Shall I leave the window open for you then?” he asks blandly.
The dragon gives him a disdainful sniff. “As if I can’t open it myself.” It harrumphs. “No need.”
“Ah, yes,” Yingxing says dryly. “Please help yourself then.”
“So I will,” the dragon agrees, either not noticing or ignoring the sarcasm.
~
It’s not so lonely anymore, Yingxing having serendipitously acquired a companion who loves to laze about in the hot springs as much as he does. More, probably. And Yinyue-jun is fine company, clever and witty, a tongue sharp enough to cut hiding what Yingxing suspects to be a soft heart. He even gets to see Yinyue-jun’s little noodle form—the dragon not being secretive about his presence anymore—and almost can’t contain himself.
It’s just so adorable.
Yinyue-jun likes the temperature of Yingxing’s forge and takes to popping in on him unpredictably, often hovering curiously around him, watching him work. If Yingxing isn’t too sweaty he’ll even perch right atop his shoulders for a better view.
As for Yingxing’s illness, the mountain air is doing wonders, such that he even occasionally forgets he has such limitations.
One day, thinking of his little—or not so little—visitor, Yingxing leaves out a small offering of wine and dried fruit on his desk—his intruder’s favorite location to disturb as it is where Yingxing most often keeps his designs and artifacts in various stages of production.
This turns out to be a mistake. The dragon apparently takes it as carte blanche permission to investigate Yingxing’s cupboards, helping itself to whatever catches its fancy—shrimp chips, pudding cups, spicy nuts, and most of all—
“My chocolate covered ice cream bar!” Yingxing accuses the dragon, sulking across from Yinyue-jun in the hot springs. “It was the last one.”
“It was very tasty,” Yinyue-jun agrees without a hint of shame. “You may consider it part of your tenancy fee. If you disagree, you are welcome to file a claim with your Realm-Keeping Commission.” The tail flicks twice.
Yingxing glares at the amused tail.
Yingxing, Furnace Master of Luofu filing a claim against the mystical Azure Dragon Yinyue-jun for an ice cream bar… as if.
The dragon cocks its head. “Is it so difficult to obtain? Your mechanical birds regularly deliver goods up the mountain to you.”
Yingxing sighs. “The cycrane deliveries are pre-arranged regular shipments of provisions and necessities. For nonessentials, you know, treats like my shrimp chips, dried fruit, chocolate, I have to travel into town to purchase those myself.” He sinks lower into the water. “I’m not so young anymore. It’s not an easy trip for me to make.” He doesn’t have the equipment to maintain a starskiff here out in the boonies and the mountain roads are too treacherous for motor vehicles. His only option is to descend the slope by foot.
The dragon shifts to curl near him, laying its head next to Yingxing’s. “Despite the condition of your lungs, you are in the prime of health. I have seen you working the furnace, forging thousand catty swords.”
Aren’t you just whining?
Yingxing scowls. “Do you think I like to tell people I’m old? My limbs are strong, my heart is vigorous, but my lungs are a rather vital part of the whole package. It’s good exercise,” he admits, “but it’s still hard going for me.”
Yinyue-jun contemplates this. He nods. “The fault is mine for having an incomplete understanding of your situation. This oversight is easily remedied: I can take you down the mountain.”
Yingxing stares.
Is Yinyue-jun saying he’ll fly Yingxing down the mountain?
“I think a dragon may be a bit conspicuous,” Yingxing points out reluctantly, hating himself, because riding a dragon.
“If I do not wish to be seen, I will not be seen.”
Yingxing eyes Yinyue-jun suspiciously. “Do you just want more snacks?”
“I have heard it is customary to tip the navigator of your transportation device.”
Yingxing squints. Is Yinyue-jun joking again? This dragon’s sense of humor has proven to be somewhat troublesome.
“I have never allowed another to use me thus,” the dragon adds, tone no longer amused.
A stunning realization strikes Yingxing: the divine dragon—Yinyue-jun has probably never even lowered his head to someone, and he’s offering to let Yingxing ride on his back.
“I…” Yingxing looks at Yinyue-jun helplessly, not knowing what to say. Did he guilt-trip Yinyue-jun too much? “You don’t need to do this. I can make it down the mountain myself.”
For some reason, this makes Yinyue-jun even more displeased. “You refuse me? Forget it then.” Abruptly, he rises from the water, about to take to the skies.
“Wait!” Yingxing throws himself at Yinyue-jun in a fluster, knowing he can’t let the dragon leave like this. Grabbing at whatever he can, he ends up with his arms around Yinyue-jun’s torso.
The dragon freezes, and Yingxing’s heart stops in his chest, becoming conscious of what he’s done. His wide eyes meet that fathomless azure gaze.
After a tense minute, Yinyue-jun sighs, nuzzling Yingxing’s hair—very gently—with his muzzle. “Breathe, Yingxing.”
Yingxing breathes.
He’s still hugging Yinyue-jun. Quickly loosening his hold, he tries to pull away but finds himself stopped by the claw resting lightly on his back.
Oh, Yingxing thinks.
Could Yinyue-jun… be lonely?
Tentatively, he slips his arms back around Yinyue-jun, stunned when the dragon doesn’t protest the action. Yingxing does his best to explain in a way that Yinyue-jun won’t misunderstand.
“I only meant that a small hardship is not worth your discomfort to me. Of course I would be honored beyond belief if you would deign to carry me, but it’s—too much. I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”
The claw tightens on Yingxing’s back.
“You have allowed me into your home, to see your greatest works—”
“I do so love to show off,” Yingxing admits.
“Hush. Listen to me, you infuriating man.”
Yingxing settles down. Surprisingly, the scales aren’t uncomfortable, and there is a steady thump against his ear, the beat of a dragon’s heart.
“You have allowed me to observe you at your craft,” Yinyue-jun’s voice drops lower, quieter, “Have allowed me to see you at your frailest—”
It hadn’t been anything much. Yingxing had an exacerbation of his illness and stumbled to his respirator machine, pulling on the breathing mask with shaking hands. It had been a little uncomfortable, embarrassing to have been seen in such a state, but he hadn’t waved the inquisitive dragon off.
“—So why would I not allow you this? It costs me nothing to alleviate this small hardship of yours.”
“But would it be displeasing for you?” Yingxing persists. He lays a palm over the dragon’s chest.
“Because it is you, it would not. I would be pleased to carry you, Yingxing.”
Yingxing’s heart softens, a smile curving his lips. “Then I would be honored, Yinyue-jun. Thank you.”
The clawed hand strokes his back clumsily. “Think nothing of it.”
~
It’s exhilarating, soaring through the skies on the back of a dragon, watching the beautiful scenery fly by. Yinyue-jun’s mane is soft and warm where he clings to it and the dragon’s flight is slow and careful, mindful of his comfort.
When they are in sight of the town’s entrance, Yinyue-jun lands in a copse of trees. The air shimmers, going misty, and then instead of a massive dragon there is a small noodle that winds its way through the air to slip into Yingxing’s collar. He jumps at the ticklish sensation of fur and scales sliding over his neck.
“I will conceal my presence, so you need not concern yourself with the matter of secrecy,” Yinyue-jun reassures him.
Yingxing greets the townspeople as he walks through the streets, knowing most of them by name now. Yinyue-jun is just as curious here, poking his head out to examine the goods on the shelves as they stroll the aisles, and Yingxing ends up buying more than usual.
The return trip ascending the mountain is equally exciting, the dragon gracefully launching itself into the air and flying them up.
“It was a most enjoyable experience,” Yinyue-jun says, resting on his own coils in front of Yingxing’s house. “Much time has passed since I last viewed Xianzhou’s progress. Its technological advancements and innovations have surpassed my expectations.”
Yingxing gives him a crooked grin. “It was a delightful trip for myself as well. You have my sincere thanks, Yinyue-jun.”
“Hm.” The dragon shifts restlessly. “Dan Feng,” Yinyue-jun mumbles.
“Eh?”
“My name. Yinyue-jun is my title.”
Yingxing’s throat works, a gentle warmth suffusing his chest. His smile is bright as sunlight.
“Thank you, Dan Feng.”
~
One day, Yingxing returns to find an ethereal man sitting at his dining table, a pot of tea and two cups on the table in front of him. He’s dressed in fine white silk with exquisite embroidery of cranes and clouds on the sleeves and hem. Two crystalline horns rise from the crown of his head, a tail draped over the seat behind him.
But the first thing Yingxing notices is his eyes because he would recognize that deep sea gaze anywhere.
“Dan Feng?”
Yinyue-jun inclines his head regally. “Welcome back, Yingxing. Would you join me for a cup of tea?”
That snaps Yingxing out of it because—“Are you hosting me in my own house?” he asks dryly, even as he can’t stop staring. He had been rather wild in his youth, has traveled the world, yet he has never seen anyone with even a tenth of the dragon’s beauty.
“I’m gladdened to see that this form pleases you,” Dan Feng smirks, evading the allegation.
Yingxing feels his face go hot. Groaning, he slumps into the chair opposite Dan Feng. “Don’t tease this old man, Your Highness. But… why have you taken this form?”
Dan Feng takes his time pouring them each a cup of tea, elegance in his every motion.
He lifts his eyes to catch Yingxing’s. “I thought it appropriate to do so, since I intend to court you.”
Yingxing’s mouth opens and closes like a fish.
“Drink your tea,” Dan Feng advises mercifully.
Yingxing drinks his tea, not tasting any of it, but it’s probably delicious. Dan Feng refills his cup. The flavor on Yingxing’s tongue is relaxing chamomile, the dragon having anticipated his shock and made suitable preparations.
“I understand this may be rather abrupt, but I hope you will consider me,” Dan Feng says, a bit too calmly.
Yingxing is having trouble reconciling the dragon that soaks in the hot springs with him—oh gods, naked—the small noodle that follows him around with this beautiful man. He thinks of pleasant days in the forge and lazy nights beneath the stars. “Have we been dating?” Yingxing asks faintly.
“If you would like to view it as such, it would please me, but if the difference in species is… unpleasant, you may think of it as camaraderie.”
“But that’s who you are,” Yingxing says slowly. “This,” he waves a hand at Dan Feng’s humanoid form, “isn’t you, is it?”
Dan Feng’s head tilts curiously. “This upsets you.”
“I don’t want you to be someone else. I like you just as you are.” Yingxing still isn’t sure how he feels about romancing a dragon, but he is certain of this.
Dan Feng’s smile is small, but stunning. “Then it is well that both forms are ‘me’. In an epoch long past, our kind walked amongst mortals. We shifted at will, changing forms as easily as one dons or sheds their coat. Over the centuries, our numbers have dwindled, fading into obscurity. And so it has been a long time since I have interacted with other dragons, or humans for that matter.” He shrugs, an elegant motion. “My other form is simply more convenient, and so I have become accustomed to it.”
Yingxing takes a moment to digest this information. He has long had the thought that he wouldn’t mind having this dragon as his companion for life. Wouldn’t this just be another step in the same direction?
“I only wish to stay by your side,” the dragon says quietly, unnaturally still and straight-backed. “The manner in which I do so is not so important.”
Yingxing’s smile is gentle as he takes Dan Feng’s cold hand, warming it between his own. “I as well. Why don’t we try it then and see how it goes?” His grin widens as a tail swishes audibly over the floorboards.
There are other difficulties to consider, his illness and mortality being the primary amongst them. But somehow, Yingxing gets the feeling that all will be well in the end.