Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Welcome, everyone, to a new fanfiction set in the HTTAW (How to tame a Wyvern) Universe! :D
This story is a side story to HTTAW, focusing on Kinn and Porsche — and how their love grew during the time Porchay and Kim were unconscious.

While this fic can be read as a standalone, I’d still recommend reading HTTAW first, since there will be a few references and details that connect back to it.

I’m so excited to share this new story with you all — thank you for being here, and happy reading! ^^

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𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒫𝑜𝓇𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑒 — 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝒹𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒫𝑜𝓇𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉, 𝓈𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓈𝑜 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈.

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Character Introduction: 

⋆.˚(𝒜𝓃𝒶-)𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓃/𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓀’𝓇𝓎𝓃⭑.ᐟ

--𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝒹, 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝑔𝒶𝒸𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑜𝓇 — 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓋𝓎, 𝓊𝓃𝓎𝒾𝑒𝓁𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹. 𝐻𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓌 𝓊𝓅 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓎 𝓅𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇, 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂. 𝐵𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓅 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝒸𝓎 𝑔𝒶𝓏𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑒 — 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹. 𝒴𝑒𝓉, 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇, 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒.--

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⋆.˚𝒫𝑜𝓇𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓈𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓈𝒹⭑.ᐟ

--𝒫𝑜𝓇𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓂. 𝐻𝑒’𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉, 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓈𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓉𝓎 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉’𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝑅𝑒𝒸𝓀𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝑒𝓇𝒸𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓎𝒶𝓁, 𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝑔𝓊𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝑔𝒾𝒸. 𝒫𝑜𝓇𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝑜𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝑒𝓍𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓇, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒’𝓈 𝒶 𝓂𝒾𝓍 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇, 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓃’𝓈, 𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝒶 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒: 𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓀𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈, 𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀?--

Chapter Text

The battlefield had gone silent.

Not a peaceful silence—but a silence born of exhaustion and shock, of warriors too stunned to move, of dragons and humans alike staring at the pile of ash that had been an Alpha moments before. The impossible had happened. The tyrant was dead.

And Porsche didn't care about any of it.

"Chay!" His voice cracked as he ran toward where his brother had fallen, pushing past frozen warriors and confused dragons. "CHAY!"

Porchay lay crumpled on the ground where Kimhan had protected him during the fall, the wyvern's broken form still curled around him. Both unconscious. Both covered in blood. Both—

Please be alive. Please, please, please—

Porsche dropped to his knees beside them, hands shaking as he checked Porchay's pulse. There. Faint, but there. His brother’s chest was a mess of torn flesh — but what terrified him most was the deep wound running across his chest from side to side, but he was breathing.

"I've got you," Porsche whispered, carefully extracting Porchay from Kimhan's protective curl. The wyvern didn't stir, and Porsche felt a pang of something he didn't want to examine—gratitude, maybe, or guilt that this dragon had given everything to save his brother. "I've got you, Chay. You're going to be okay."

Around them, the chaos was beginning to resolve itself. Dragons who'd been enslaved were regaining consciousness, confusion and horror dawning as they realized what they'd been forced to do. Human warriors were regrouping, some tending to wounded, others staring at the dragons with weapons half-raised, unsure if the truce still held now that the immediate threat was gone.

Porsche couldn’t hear or see anything — the only thing that mattered in that moment was his brother.

Porsche scooped Porchay into his arms as gently as he could. His brother was too light, too pale, and that wound across his chest—gods, that wound went deep. He needed a healer. Needed help. Needed— A loud voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Everyone who can fly, take a human!" A voice rang out across the battlefield—sharp, commanding, leaving no room for argument. "We fly to the dragon valley. Now. The wounded need healers immediately."

Porsche looked up and saw him.

The white wyvern was massive, even by dragon standards. His scales gleamed like fresh snow despite being covered in blood and ash. He stood on a raised outcropping, his presence commanding absolute attention from both species. This was a leader. This was someone used to being obeyed without question.

And Porsche immediately hated him.

Not for any rational reason—but because that authoritative tone, that assumption of command, reminded him too much of his father. Of Wichai. Who'd refused to listen. Who'd sent them all marching to their deaths.

Dragons began pairing with humans, some reluctantly, others with surprising gentleness. Porsche watched a Amphitere carefully lift an injured warrior, watched a drake allow two children to climb onto her back.

But Porsche didn't move toward any of them. He adjusted his grip on Porchay, preparing to walk. The dragon valley—wherever that was—couldn't be that far. He could carry his brother. He didn't need help from—

A shadow fell over him.

Porsche looked up into golden eyes that held all the warmth of a winter storm.

The white wyvern had landed directly in front of him, close enough that Porsche could see every detail of his massive form. Scars crisscrossed his white scales. His wings were enormous and powerful. His gaze was calculating, assessing and judging.

The dragon lowered his head, gesturing with his snout toward his back, where his father was already seated. The meaning was clear: get on.

"I can manage," Porsche said through gritted teeth, taking a step to the side.

The wyvern moved to block him, making a low rumbling sound—it wasn't quite a growl, but definitely a warning. He gestured again, more insistently, then looked pointedly at Porchay's bleeding form.

"I'm not getting on your back. I don't know you. I don't trust—"

The dragon made a sharp sound—almost like a bark of impatience. He used his wing to point at Porchay's wound, then swept his head toward the other humans already mounted on dragons, flying away. The message was painfully clear: Your brother is dying. We don't have time for this.

Rage flared white-hot in Porsche's chest. "Don't you dare presume to—" He gestured at Porchay protectively. "He's my responsibility. I'll handle it my way. I don't need some dragon telling me—"

The wyvern's eyes narrowed. He made another sound, this one deeper, more frustrated. He lowered himself even further, making it as easy as possible to climb on, but Porsche just backed away.

"I said no! I'm not leaving Chay to—"

He didn't get to finish. The wyvern moved with shocking speed, his jaws opening and closing around the scruff of Porsche's armor with surprising gentleness. Before Porsche could process what was happening, he was lifted into the air—literally dangling from the dragon's mouth like a misbehaving kitten. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the orange wyvern gently take hold of Porchay.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Porsche roared, struggling despite knowing it would do nothing. "You overgrown lizard! Let go right now or I swear—"

The wyvern's response was to launch skyward. Of course, not without gently taking Kim’s dragon body in his claws.

Porsche's threats devolved into incoherent yelling as the ground dropped away beneath him. The dragon made a sound that was suspiciously close to a chuckle—a rumbling vibration Porsche could feel through his armor.

"This isn't funny! PUT ME DOWN!"

Another amused rumble.

"I HATE YOU!" Porsche shouted over the rush of wind. "This is—this is completely—you can't just—I'm going to kill you! Do you hear me? KILL YOU!"

The wyvern made a sound that was definitely laughter this time—a series of huffing breaths that made Porsche want to strangle him with his bare hands. If only he wasn't currently dangling hundreds of feet in the air.

Other dragons flew in formation around them, all heading in the same direction. Porsche caught glimpses of his clanmates on dragon backs, looking terrified but alive. No one else was being carried like a piece of luggage by a smug overgrown—

"If you drop me, I will haunt you!" Porsche yelled. "I will make your afterlife a living hell! I will—"

The dragon banked left, and Porsche's stomach lurched. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the fact that he was completely at this creature's mercy. That if the dragon wanted to drop him, there was nothing Porsche could do to stop it.

The flight felt eternal but was probably only minutes. When they finally began to descend, Porsche opened his eyes to see a valley spreading beneath them—buildings built into mountainsides, dragons and humans already moving through the streets.

The dragon valley. It was real. And it was far more than Porsche had imagined.

The white wyvern landed with far less grace than the other dragons, clearly making a point. He opened his jaws and Porsche dropped the last few feet to the ground, landing hard on his knees.

"You—" Porsche started, rage making his voice shake as he looked up at the dragon.

But the wyvern was already shifting, his form shimmering and reforming into something smaller, human-shaped. The cracking noises sent terrified shivers down his spine. When the transformation completed, a man stood before Porsche—tall, powerfully built, with raven-black hair, same cold golden eyes and those ridiculously perfect, identical eyebrows made Porsche want to strangle him even more than before.

"Healers are this way," the man said, his voice now human but no less commanding. "Follow me. Now."

"I don't take orders from—"

"Your brother is dying." The man's expression didn't change, but something flickered in those golden eyes. "Are you really going to let him die because you're too proud to accept help from a dragon?"

The words hit like a physical blow. Porsche looked down at Porchay—pale, barely breathing, that terrible wound still bleeding sluggishly—and felt his anger drain away into fear.

"Lead the way," he said quietly.

The man turned without another word, leading him through the valley at a swift pace. Other dragons and humans parted for them, some offering help, others just staring. Porsche ignored them all, his entire focus on keeping Porchay stable, on not thinking about how much blood his brother had already lost.

They reached a large cave entrance where other wounded were being carried. The man gestured to a healer—a dragon in human form with gentle eyes and quick hands.

"Critical. Chest wound from the Alpha. His bonded mate is over there." The man pointed to where Tankhun was carefully depositing the unconscious black wyvern. "Treat them together. They're soul-bonded."

The healer's eyes widened. "Soul-bonded? A human and a—"

"Yes. Now help them."

Porsche reluctantly surrendered Porchay to the healer's care, watching as his brother was carried deeper into the cave. Every instinct screamed at him to follow, to stay close, to protect—

"He's in good hands," the man said. "Our healers are skilled. They've seen worse."

"You don't know that." Porsche's hands clenched into fists. "You don't know if he'll—"

"No. I don't." The man's honesty was brutal. "But I know that the alternative—leaving him to walk while he bled out—would have guaranteed his death. This way, he has a chance."

Porsche wanted to hit him. Wanted to rage at his cold certainty, his emotionless assessment. Wanted to do anything but stand here feeling helpless while his brother's life hung in the balance.

"Why did you help?" Porsche asked instead. "Why go out of your way to bring us here? We're enemies. We've been killing your kind for generations."

The man studied him for a long moment. "Because my brother loves your brother. Because they nearly died stopping a war that would have destroyed us all. Because—" He paused, something shifting in his expression. "Because the old hatreds need to end somewhere. It might as well be here."

"Pretty sentiment from someone who carried me like a misbehaving pet."

"You were being stubborn. I don't have patience for stupidity when lives are at stake."

"Stubborn? You grabbed me by the scruff!"

"You wouldn't get on my back. What else was I supposed to do? Waste time arguing while your brother and my brother bled out?"

They were standing too close now, both bristling with tension that had nothing to do with species and everything to do with two dominant personalities clashing in the aftermath of trauma.

"You could have asked nicely," Porsche ground out.

"I did ask. You refused. I don't repeat myself."

"You're insufferable."

"You're stubborn."

"Arrogant."

"Reckless."

They glared at each other, neither willing to back down, until a familiar voice interrupted.

"Oh my gods, are you two seriously doing this NOW?" Tankhun appeared from the healing cave, in his human form now, looking exasperated. "Kinn, stop antagonizing the human. Porsche, stop antagonizing my brother. Your siblings are DYING and you're out here having a pissing contest?"

Porsche felt shame wash over him. "Chay—I should—"

"You should wait like the rest of us," Tankhun said, but his voice gentled. "The healers won't let you in while they work. Trust me, I tried. They threw us out bodily."

Porsche looked at the man—Kinn, apparently—with new eyes. "You tried to stay with your brother too?"

"Of course I did." Kinn's expression was neutral, but something flickered beneath it. "Kimhan is my responsibility. But the healers were right—we'd just be in the way."

The admission, the glimpse of worry beneath that cold exterior, took some of the fight out of Porsche. They were both in the same situation. Both waiting and helpless.

"I'm sorry," Porsche said stiffly. "For yelling. And for... the rest."

"You were protecting your brother. I understand that." Kinn's voice was careful. "But Porsche—if you ever call me an overgrown lizard again, I will drop you from twice that height."

Despite everything, Porsche felt his lips twitch. "You thought that was funny, didn't you? Carrying me like that?"

"Deeply amusing," Kinn admitted, and was that almost a smile?

"Insufferable," Porsche muttered, but there was less heat in it.

"So I've been told."

They stood there in uncomfortable silence, both facing the healing cave, both waiting for news that might never come. Around them, the valley continued its chaotic organization—dragons and humans working together, building something new from the ashes of war.

"They're going to survive," Tankhun said suddenly. "Both of them. They're too stubborn to die. Too stupidly in love."

"You don't know that," Porsche said, but he wanted desperately to believe it.

"I know my brother. And I'm getting to know yours." Tankhun's eyes gleamed with something between mischief and wisdom. "They did the impossible today. Killed an Alpha. Created an alliance. Bound their souls across species. Death would be anticlimactic at this point."

Despite himself, Porsche laughed—sharp and slightly hysterical, but genuine.

Kinn glanced at him, something shifting in his cold expression. "We should establish rotating vigils. Make sure someone is always nearby if the healers need something."

"I'm not leaving," Porsche said immediately.

"Neither am I. So we'll wait together." Kinn's tone left no room for argument. "Try not to call me any more names. I'm running out of creative ways to carry you."

"You wouldn't dare—"

"Test me."

They glared at each other again, but this time, there was something different in it. Not quite friendship. Not yet. But maybe... possibility.

Tankhun looked between them and smiled.

"Oh, this is going to be entertaining," he murmured. "Very, very entertaining."

𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹...

Chapter Text

The healing cave was quiet except for the soft chanting of healers and the occasional clink of glass vials. Porsche sat on the cold stone floor just outside the inner chamber, close enough to see through the doorway but far enough not to interfere.

He'd been sitting there for six hours.

Inside, he could see Porchay lying on a low bed, his chest still covered in that strange glowing salve. The wound looked better than it had—the healers had stopped the bleeding, cleaned it, applied their dragon medicine—but Chay still hadn't woken up.

On another bed—or better said nest—across the chamber, the black wyvern lay in his dragon form, his scales dull with exhaustion and pain. Kimhan. The dragon who'd saved his brother's life. Who'd wrapped his body around Porchay during the fall and taken the worst of the impact himself.

Porsche didn't know how to feel about that.

Grateful, obviously. His brother was alive because of that dragon. But also... confused. Angry, maybe. Because Kimhan was the reason Chay had been exiled in the first place. The reason they'd been in that battle. The reason everything had fallen apart.

Except that wasn't fair, and Porsche knew it. Chay had chosen Kimhan. Had chosen to save him, to fight alongside him, to risk everything for him. And Kimhan had protected Chay with his own body, his own life.

That had to mean something.

"He's stable."

Porsche jerked his head up to find one of the healers—a dragon woman with kind eyes—standing beside him.

"Both of them," she continued. "The worst is over. Now they just need time to heal."

"When will they wake up?" Porsche's voice was rough from disuse.

"Hard to say. Could be hours. Could be days." She hesitated. "The bond between them is... complicated. Their bodies are trying to heal, but the bond is pulling them toward each other. Making them resist healing because the other is hurt."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we need to keep them close. Keep them in the same space. So their souls know the other is safe." She smiled gently. "They're mates, you know. Truly bonded. It's rare. Precious. We'll do everything we can to ensure they both survive it."

Mates. His little brother was mated to a dragon. Soul-bonded in ways Porsche couldn't begin to understand.

The healer left, and Porsche dropped his head into his hands. Exhaustion pulled at him—he hadn't slept in over a day, hadn't eaten since before the battle. His body ached from fighting, from carrying Chay, from the desperate flight here.

But he couldn't leave. Couldn't rest. Not until Chay woke up. Not until he knew his brother would be okay.

"You're still here."

Porsche's head snapped up. The black-haired man—Kinn—stood in the cave entrance, still in his human form. He looked tired too, though he hid it better. His hair was damp, like he'd recently bathed.

"Where else would I be?" Porsche said flatly.

"Resting. Eating. Taking care of yourself so you're actually useful when your brother wakes." Kinn's tone was matter-of-fact. "But I suspected you'd be stubborn about it."

He held out a plate—bread, cheese, some kind of dried meat. And a water skin.

Porsche stared at it. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are. You just don't want to admit it." Kinn moved closer, setting the plate down beside Porsche. "Your brother saved my brother's life. The least I can do is make sure you don't collapse from hunger and make his sacrifice meaningless."

The words hit harder than they should have. Porsche looked at the food, at Kinn's neutral expression, and felt something in his chest loosen.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Kinn nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait." Porsche didn't know why he said it. "Are you... are you not staying? To check on your brother?"

"I've been checking every hour." Kinn glanced back. "I have responsibilities. The valley needs organizing. Humans and dragons need housing, food, medical care. Someone has to coordinate it all."

"But he's your brother."

"Which is why I can't afford to fall apart." Kinn's expression remained carefully blank. "Kimhan would want me to ensure this alliance succeeds. That his sacrifice—both their sacrifices—wasn't for nothing."

Porsche studied him more carefully. The rigid posture. The controlled breathing. The way his hands were clenched just slightly too tight.

"You're scared," Porsche said.

Kinn's jaw tightened. "I'm practical."

"You're terrified he's going to die and you're running away so you don't have to watch it happen."

"I am not—" Kinn stopped, his cold mask cracking slightly. "I am ensuring the future they fought for actually exists. That's not running away."

"It is if you're using it as an excuse not to feel anything."

They stared at each other, tension crackling in the air. Then Kinn moved, sitting down against the cave wall—not close to Porsche, but not far either. Close enough to see into the healing chamber. Close enough to watch his brother breathe.

"I can't fall apart," Kinn said finally. "Tankhun already did. Someone has to hold it together."

Porsche reached for the bread, tearing off a piece. "Sometimes falling apart is the only thing that keeps you whole."

"That makes no sense."

"Doesn't have to make sense. Just has to be true." Porsche chewed slowly, realizing how hungry he actually was. "You can't organize and control your way through every problem. Sometimes you just have to feel it."

"I don't have the luxury of feelings." Kinn's voice was hard. "I'm the middle brother. Tankhun is... damaged from our mother's death. Kimhan is too idealistic for his own good. Someone has to be practical. Someone has to make the hard decisions."

"And that someone is you."

"Always has been."

Porsche offered him a piece of bread. Kinn looked at it like it might be poisoned.

"When's the last time you ate?" Porsche asked.

"This morning."

"Liar."

Kinn's lips twitched—not quite a smile, but close. He took the bread. "You're observant."

"I have a younger brother who lies about taking care of himself. I know the signs." Porsche took a drink from the water skin. "They're going to be okay, you know. Both of them."

"You don't know that."

"No. But I choose to believe it anyway." Porsche looked through the doorway at Chay's pale face. "Because the alternative is unacceptable."

They sat in silence for a while, both watching their brothers breathe. Porsche worked through the food slowly, and noticed Kinn doing the same with the bread he'd been given.

"He talked about you," Porsche said eventually. "Chay. Before all this. Before the exile. He'd come back from his 'tracking practice'—" he made air quotes, "—and he'd be different. Happier. Lighter. I didn't understand it at the time."

"He was with Kimhan."

"Yeah. Sneaking off to see a dragon. Falling in love with the enemy." Porsche shook his head. "I should have seen it. Should have protected him from—"

"From finding the one person who sees him completely?" Kinn's voice was sharp. "From being happy?"

"From getting exiled. From nearly dying." Porsche's hands clenched. "I'm his older brother. I'm supposed to protect him."

"You can't protect someone from their own choices. Believe me, I've tried." Kinn looked at Kimhan. "My brother chose to resist our father. Chose to help humans when every instinct said they were enemies. Chose your brother over his own safety. I couldn't have stopped any of that even if I'd tried."

"Did you try?"

"Once. When he first started talking about the old ways. About partnership with humans." Kinn's expression was distant. "I told him he was being naive. That humans would never accept us. That he was going to get himself killed."

"What did he say?"

"That some things were worth dying for. That living in fear and hatred wasn't really living at all." Kinn's voice dropped. "He was right. I just couldn't admit it until I watched him nearly die proving it."

Porsche understood that feeling too well. The helplessness of watching someone you love throw themselves into danger for something they believe in. The anger at their recklessness mixed with pride in their courage.

"Your brother is brave," Porsche said. "Stupid, maybe. But brave."

"Yours too." Kinn met his eyes. "He killed an Alpha. A human killed an Alpha. That's... that's unprecedented."

"He had help."

"He took the shot. He made the choice." Kinn's respect was evident. "Kimhan chose well."

Something warm unfurled in Porsche's chest at those words. "So did Chay."

They fell into easier silence after that. It wasn't quite comfortable, but also no longer hostile. Just two brothers, keeping vigil, united in their fear and hope.

"Tell me about him," Kinn said suddenly. "Your brother. What was he like before all this?"

Porsche was surprised by the question. "You want to know about Chay?"

"Kimhan loves him. That makes him family. I should know my family."

The logic was simple, but it made Porsche's throat tight. "He was... soft. That's what our father called him. Weak. He'd rather draw or play music than hunt. Rather study plants than fight. The clan thought he was useless."

"But you didn't."

"No. I thought he was brave." Porsche smiled despite himself. "It takes courage to be soft in a world that demands hardness. To choose beauty when everyone else chooses violence. Chay never stopped being himself, even when it cost him."

"Kimhan said the same thing," Kinn said quietly. "That Porchay saw beauty where others saw threats. That he looked at a wounded dragon and saw someone worth saving."

"He always did have too much compassion for his own good."

"Perhaps the world needs more people with too much compassion."

Porsche looked at Kinn with new eyes. "You really believe that? About the alliance? About humans and dragons?"

"I believe my brother and yours nearly died to make it possible. I believe that makes it worth trying." Kinn's expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes held conviction. "Whether I personally believe in it doesn't matter. I'll make it work because they need me to."

"That's very... practical of you."

"I told you. I'm practical." But this time, there was the faintest hint of humor in Kinn's voice.

They sat vigil through the night, sometimes talking, sometimes silent. Kinn told stories about Kimhan as a child—his idealism, his gentleness with smaller creatures, the way he'd always tried to see the best in everyone. Porsche shared memories of Chay—his music, his art, the way he'd cried the first time he'd seen dragon eggs destroyed.

"They're perfect for each other," Porsche realized aloud. "Both too soft for this world. Both refusing to become harder."

"Both changing the world instead of letting it change them," Kinn added.

The sky outside the cave entrance was beginning to lighten when Kinn finally stood. "I need to check on the settlement. Make sure no one has killed each other overnight."

"You're optimistic."

"I'm realistic." Kinn hesitated. "Will you... if there's any change. Send someone to find me."

There was a moment of silence before Porsche answered.

"I will," he promised.

Kinn nodded and left. But an hour later, a dragon arrived with more food, more water, and a blanket. The message was clear: Kinn was taking care of them, even from a distance.

Porsche wrapped the blanket around himself and continued his vigil, watching Chay breathe, watching the slow rise and fall of Kimhan's scales.

And he thought about the black-haired dragon who hid his fear behind efficiency, who protected by organizing, who cared by ensuring no one else had to.

They were going to be okay, Porsche told himself. All four of them.

They had to be.

𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹...

Chapter Text

Day two in the dragon valley, and Porsche was losing his mind.

He'd spent another night in the healing cave, dozing fitfully against the stone wall, jerking awake every time a healer moved or Chay made the slightest sound. But there had been no change. Both brothers remained unconscious, their bodies slowly healing, their souls doing whatever mysterious thing soul-bonded mates did.

The healers had finally kicked him out at dawn.

"You're no good to him exhausted," the head healer had said firmly. "Go. Make yourself useful elsewhere. We'll send word the moment anything changes."

So Porsche had wandered into the valley, looking for something—anything—to do that would stop him from thinking about his unconscious brother and the uncertainty of everything.

He found chaos.

The valley was a mess of activity—dragons and humans trying to work together, mostly failing, communication breaking down at every turn. A group of human builders were attempting to construct additional housing, but the dragons kept interfering, trying to "help" in ways that made no sense to human engineering.

"No, no, NO!" A human carpenter was shouting at a large bronze dragon. "The support beam goes THERE! Not—why would you put it—that makes no structural sense!"

The dragon made a rumbling sound that might have been words, but the human clearly couldn't understand it. The dragon tried to demonstrate what it meant, but only succeeded in knocking over the entire frame they'd been building.

Porsche watched the carpenter sit down and put his head in his hands in defeat.

"Need help?" Porsche called out.

The carpenter looked up, recognized him as Wichai's son, and nodded gratefully. "Please. I'm trying to build sleeping quarters, but every time I set something up, the dragons try to 'fix' it and everything falls apart."

Porsche surveyed the wreckage. "What are you trying to build?"

"Basic barracks. Four walls, roof, sleeping platforms."

"And what do the dragons want?"

"I have no idea. They keep making sounds and gesturing, but I can't understand them."

Porsche turned to the bronze dragon, who was looking distinctly frustrated. "What are you trying to tell him?"

The dragon made a series of rumbling sounds, gesturing with its wing at the fallen support beam, then at the mountain wall behind them.

"I... I don't know what you're saying," Porsche admitted.

More rumbles. More gestures. The dragon looked like it wanted to grab the beam and show him by force, which probably wouldn't end well.

"Perhaps I can translate."

Porsche turned to find Kinn approaching, looking far too awake and composed for someone who'd probably slept as little as Porsche had. He was in his human form, dressed practically for work, his black hair slicked back.

"You speak dragon?" Porsche asked.

"I am a dragon." Oh right — Porsche had completely forgotten about that. Kinn moved past him to face the bronze dragon, who immediately launched into a rapid series of sounds and gestures. Kinn listened, nodded, then turned to the carpenter. "He's trying to tell you that building freestanding structures here is inefficient. The mountain wall behind you is solid stone. If you anchor the building into it, you'll need fewer supports and it'll be more stable during storms."

"But that's not how we build—"

"It's how we build." Kinn gestured to the existing structures. "Look around. Most of our buildings are partially carved into the mountain. It provides natural insulation, protection from wind, and requires less material."

The carpenter looked at the mountain wall, then at his plans, clearly trying to reconcile two completely different building philosophies.

"Show me," Porsche said to Kinn. "How would you do it?"

Kinn studied him for a moment, as if trying to determine if this was genuine interest or a trap. Then he picked up a piece of charcoal and began sketching on a flat stone, the bronze dragon watching approvingly.

"You anchor here, here, and here. The back wall is carved into the mountain—only a foot or so, just enough for stability. The side walls can be lighter because they're supported by the anchor points. Roof angles this way to shed snow and rain."

It was elegant. Efficient. And completely alien to human building methods.

"That would work," the carpenter admitted slowly. "But I'd need help carving into the stone. We don't have tools for that."

"The dragons can help." Kinn made a sound to the bronze dragon, who rumbled what was clearly agreement. "But you need to be able to communicate what you need. Otherwise..." He gestured at the demolished frame.

"How am I supposed to communicate with them?" the carpenter asked. "I don't speak dragon."

"You learn the basics. Or—" Kinn looked at Porsche. "You find translators. People who can bridge both languages."

Porsche understood immediately. "You need people who can coordinate between human and dragon work crews."

"Yes. Which is why I was coming to find you."

"Me?"

"You're a clan leader's son. You understand organization, delegation, command structure. And you're currently driving the healers insane with your hovering." Kinn's expression was neutral, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. "Make yourself useful. Help me coordinate the building efforts."

Porsche should have been offended by the blunt assessment. Instead, he found himself intrigued. "What exactly would that involve?"

"Following me. Learning fast. Not arguing about every dragon custom that doesn't match human methods." Kinn paused. "Think you can manage that?"

It was clearly a challenge. Porsche met his eyes. "Lead the way."

The next six hours were exhausting and fascinating in equal measure.

Kinn moved through the valley with ruthless efficiency, stopping at each construction site, identifying problems, and implementing solutions. Sometimes the issue was communication—humans not understanding what dragons wanted, dragons frustrated by human limitations. Sometimes it was resources—running out of materials, needing different tools. Sometimes it was just logistics—too many people working in too small a space, crews getting in each other's way.

Porsche watched how Kinn handled each situation. He never raised his voice, never showed frustration. He simply assessed, decided, and acted. And people—both human and dragon—listened to him. Respected him.

"You're good at this," Porsche said during a brief pause between sites.

"I've been doing it my whole life." Kinn didn't look at him, scanning the valley for the next crisis. "Someone has to organize chaos into something functional."

"Is that why you became a leader? Because you're good at organizing?"

"I became a leader because Tankhun couldn't and Kimhan wouldn't." Kinn's tone was matter-of-fact. "Someone had to. I was the logical choice."

"That's a lot of responsibility."

"Responsibility is what I do."

They moved to the next site—a group trying to set up a communal kitchen. The humans wanted to build fire pits. The dragons wanted to provide the fire directly. Neither could understand why the other's method wouldn't work.

Porsche stepped in before Kinn could. "The humans need contained fire. If dragons just breathe flame, it's too much at once. Burns the food. But—" He turned to the dragons, making gestures he hoped they'd understand. "—we need sustained heat. Small fire."

One of the firebreather dragons rumbled thoughtfully, then demonstrated—a thin stream of flame into a stone-lined pit, held steady instead of the usual burst.

"Yes!" The human cook looked delighted. "That's perfect! Can you maintain that?"

The dragon rumbled agreement and settled in to provide cooking fire, looking almost pleased to have a job that used their abilities.

Kinn watched this with something that might have been approval. "Fast learner."

"I pay attention." Porsche grinned. "Unlike someone who assumed I'd be useless."

"I never said useless. I said hovering and driving healers insane."

"Same thing."

"Not even close."

They worked through the afternoon, and somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like obligation and started feeling like partnership. Kinn would spot a problem, Porsche would help solve it. Porsche would suggest a solution, Kinn would refine it to work with dragon capabilities. They developed a rhythm, an unspoken understanding of how to work together.

The incident with the backwards wall happened late afternoon.

A construction crew was building a storage facility—half human design, half dragon. Kinn had given instructions in High Valyrian to the dragon workers, and in common tongue to the humans. Everyone had nodded understanding and gotten to work.

Two hours later, Kinn and Porsche returned to check progress and found an entire wall installed backwards.

"How—" Kinn stared at it. "That's not—how is that even possible?"

The human foreman looked sheepish. "The dragons said to anchor it on the west side, so we did."

"I said east side."

"Oh." The foreman paused. "What's the difference?"

Porsche couldn't help it. He started laughing. It built from a chuckle to full, gasping laughter at the sheer absurdity of it—dragons and humans trying so hard to work together that they'd somehow built an entire wall in the wrong direction.

Kinn stared at him like he'd lost his mind. Then, slowly, his lips quirked. Then twitched. Then he was laughing too—a genuine, surprised sound that transformed his entire face.

"It's completely backwards," Kinn said between laughs.

"Completely!" Porsche wiped his eyes. "How do you mess up a wall this badly?"

"I gave clear instructions!"

"Clearly not clear enough!"

They laughed until the human foreman started looking concerned, and the dragons made confused rumbling sounds. Then Kinn pulled himself together, still smiling.

"Alright. We take it down and rebuild. East side this time." He looked at the foreman. "Can you see the sun?"

"Yes?"

"Watch where it rises tomorrow. That's east. That's where this wall goes."

"Oh. That's actually helpful."

As they walked away from the backwards wall crew, still occasionally chuckling, Porsche realized something: he'd just spent an entire day working alongside Kinn without wanting to strangle him. More than that—he'd enjoyed it.

"You're different when you laugh," Porsche said.

Kinn's smile faded slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Less cold. Less scary leader. More..." Porsche searched for the word. "Real."

"Being scary leader is useful."

"Sure. But being real is better." Porsche bumped his shoulder—a casual gesture he immediately regretted when he remembered who he was touching. "You should laugh more."

"I'll keep that in mind." But Kinn didn't sound annoyed. If anything, he sounded thoughtful.

They reached the healing cave as the sun was setting. Kinn paused at the entrance.

"Are you going to sit vigil all night again?"

"Probably."

"You need actual sleep. In an actual bed."

"I need to be here if Chay wakes up."

Kinn studied him, then nodded. "I'll have a proper sleeping mat brought here. And food. And—" He stopped, something shifting in his expression. "Thank you. For today. For helping."

"You mean for not being useless?"

"You were never useless. Just... misplaced." Kinn's lips quirked again. "You're a good coordinator and natural leader. You should keep doing it."

"Is that an offer?"

"It's a practical assessment of skills." But there was warmth in Kinn's eyes now. "Same time tomorrow?"

"If Chay's still unconscious, yes."

"Good." Kinn turned to leave, then paused. "Porsche? The backwards wall was the highlight of my day."

He left before Porsche could respond, but Porsche found himself smiling as he entered the healing cave.

Because somewhere between the chaos and the laughter and the backwards wall, Kinn had stopped being the insufferable dragon who'd carried him by the scruff.

And become someone Porsche actually wanted to see again tomorrow.

𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹...

Chapter Text

Day three, and Porchay still hadn't woken up.

Porsche sat beside his brother's bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint glow of the healing salve slowly fading as the wound closed. The healers said everything was progressing well. That both brothers were healing at remarkable rates—probably due to the new bond between them.

But Chay's eyes remained closed. His face was too pale. His hand too still in Porsche's grip.

Porsche had spent another day working with Kinn, coordinating construction, solving problems, building bridges between species. It had been good. Productive. A welcome distraction from the constant fear churning in his gut.

But now it was night, and the distractions were gone, and Porsche was alone with his brother and his failures.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking in the empty chamber. "Chay, I'm so sorry."

The words had been building for three days. Three days of holding it together, of being useful, of pretending he was fine. But he wasn't fine. His brother was lying unconscious because Porsche had failed him.

"I was supposed to protect you." The tears came suddenly, overwhelming. "That's my job. That's all I've ever been good at—keeping you safe. And I failed. I let you get exiled. Let you fight in a war you shouldn't have been in. Let you nearly die—"

His voice broke completely, shoulders shaking with sobs he'd been suppressing since the moment he'd found Chay on that battlefield. All the fear, all the guilt, all the helplessness of watching his baby brother lie unconscious for three days crashed over him at once.

"You almost died, and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't protect you. What kind of brother does that make me? What kind of—"

"The human kind."

Porsche's head snapped up. Kinn stood in the chamber entrance, still in his work clothes, dust and stone powder clinging to his hair. He looked uncertain, like he'd interrupted something and wasn't sure if he should leave.

"I didn't—" Porsche wiped furiously at his face. "I thought you'd gone to sleep."

"I was going to check on Kimhan." Kinn gestured to where the black wyvern lay, his breathing deeper and healthier now. "The healers say he's improving. I wanted to see for myself."

Porsche turned away, embarrassed to be caught breaking down. "You should go. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. Neither am I."

Porsche heard footsteps, then felt Kinn sit down beside him on the floor—not too close, but close enough. Offering presence without demanding anything.

"I failed him too," Kinn said quietly. "My brother. I was supposed to keep him safe. That's what the middle brother does—protects the ones who can't protect themselves."

"Kimhan's a wyvern. He can protect himself."

"Not from his own idealism. Not from his belief that peace was possible." Kinn's voice was rough. "I should have stopped him. Should have locked him up, forbidden him from helping humans, done something to keep him away from that battlefield."

"He wouldn't have listened."

"I know. But I should have tried harder. Should have—" Kinn stopped, taking a breath. "When I saw him fall, when I saw the Alpha's strike hit him, I thought he was dead. And all I could think was that I'd failed. That I'd let my baby brother die because I was too cautious, too practical, too afraid to believe in what he was fighting for."

Porsche looked at him, seeing his own grief reflected in Kinn's carefully controlled expression. "It's not the same. You were fighting. I was—I let Chay get exiled. Let him be in danger in the first place."

"He chose that path."

"He is eighteen! He didn't know what he was choosing!"

"Didn't he?" Kinn's eyes were steady. "From what Kimhan told me, your brother knew exactly what he was doing. He saw a wounded dragon and chose mercy. Chose to help instead of kill. Chose love over safety. Those weren't the choices of someone who didn't understand consequences."

"But he almost died—"

"Because he fought to save everyone. Both Humans and dragons." Kinn's voice softened. "That's not a failure of your protection, Porsche. That's a success of your raising. You taught him to be brave enough to make those choices."

The words hit Porsche like a physical blow. He wanted to argue, to insist that he'd failed, but something about the way Kinn said it made him pause.

"I taught him to survive," Porsche said finally. "To protect himself. To not trust easily."

"And yet he's lying here having nearly died protecting others. Having chosen trust." Kinn looked at Kimhan. "Sometimes the people we protect outgrow our protection. They make choices we can't control, face dangers we can't shield them from. That doesn't mean we failed. It just means they grew into who they were meant to be."

"Even if it nearly kills them?"

"Even then." Kinn's jaw clenched. "Kimhan has been trying to bridge the gap between our species since he understood what our mother died for. I've spent years trying to keep him safe from that dream. Trying to make him practical, cautious, realistic. And I failed completely."

"That doesn't sound like failure."

"Doesn't it? He nearly died pursuing a dream I told him was impossible."

"But he proved it wasn't impossible," Porsche said slowly. "They both did. They built an alliance. Stopped a war. Saved both our peoples." He looked at Chay's face. "Maybe we didn't fail them. Maybe they succeeded despite us."

Kinn made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. "That's a depressing thought."

"Or a liberating one." Porsche wiped his face again. "Maybe we don't have to be perfect protectors. Maybe we just have to trust that we raised them well enough to make their own choices."

"Even when those choices terrify us?"

"Especially then."

They sat in silence for a moment, both looking at their unconscious brothers, both grappling with the same fear and guilt and helpless love.

"They chose this," Kinn said finally. "Chose each other. Chose to fight together. Chose to risk everything for something bigger than themselves." He paused. "We have to trust they chose right. That their choices weren't mistakes. That nearly dying was worth whatever they achieved."

"How do you do that? Trust like that?"

"I don't know yet." Kinn's voice was raw with honesty. "But I'm trying to learn. Because the alternative—spending the rest of my life consumed by guilt over choices I couldn't control—that's not living. That's just existing."

Porsche felt something settle in his chest. Not peace, exactly. But maybe acceptance. "When did you get so wise?"

"I'm not wise. I'm just tired of carrying guilt that isn't mine to carry."

"Sounds pretty wise to me."

Kinn's lips quirked slightly. "Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my reputation as a cold, practical bastard."

Despite everything, Porsche laughed—soft and wet, but genuine. "Your secret's safe with me."

They fell into comfortable silence, both watching their brothers breathe. Porsche noticed Kinn's hand resting on the floor between them, close enough to touch. Without thinking too hard about it, he let his own hand shift closer until their fingers were almost brushing.

Kinn noticed. Porsche saw him glance down, saw the moment of hesitation. Then Kinn's hand moved the final inch, covering Porsche's completely.

Neither of them pulled away.

It wasn't romantic, exactly. Just... connection. Understanding. Two people who carried the same burden, offering comfort in the only way they knew how.

"They're going to wake up," Porsche said, staring at their joined hands.

"Yes."

"And when they do, we're going to have to let them keep making their own choices."

"Unfortunately."

"Even if those choices terrify us."

"Especially then." Kinn's hand tightened slightly. "But we don't have to face that terror alone."

Porsche looked at him—really looked at him. At the careful control that was starting to crack. At the fear hidden behind practicality. At the person underneath the cold leader mask.

"No," Porsche agreed softly. "We don't."

They stayed like that for a long time, hands clasped together. The healers came and went, checking vitals, adjusting bandages, speaking in soft voices that didn't disturb the moment.

Eventually, Kinn spoke again. "I should let you rest. You've been here all night."

"So have you."

"I was only here for a few hours."

"Checking on Kimhan," Porsche said. "That's the third time today, isn't it?"

Kinn looked caught. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I'm an excellent liar. You're just observant." Kinn started to pull his hand away, but Porsche held on.

"Stay," Porsche said. "Please, just... stay. For a while."

Kinn studied him, something shifting in his expression. "Alright."

They leaned against the cave wall together, hands still joined, watching their brothers heal. And somewhere in the darkness and the quiet and the shared understanding, something changed between them.

It wasn't love. Not yet. But maybe the beginning of it.

The recognition that they didn't have to carry their burdens alone.

That someone else understood the terror of loving someone brave enough to die for what they believed in.

That together, they might be strong enough to let their brothers keep choosing danger—and trust that those choices were worth the risk.

"Thank you," Porsche said eventually. "For this. For understanding."

"Thank you for not being alone with it." Kinn's thumb stroked once across Porsche's knuckles. "We're going to be alright. All four of us."

"Promise?"

"I don't make promises I can't keep." Kinn paused. "But I believe it. That has to count for something."

"It counts for everything," Porsche said.

𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹...

Chapter Text

Day four was brutal.

A fight had broken out in the market—a human accusing a dragon of stealing, a dragon insisting the human was lying. It had escalated quickly, drawing crowds from both sides, weapons being drawn, old hatreds surfacing despite the fragile peace.

Porsche and Kinn had arrived just in time to prevent bloodshed.

It had taken hours to sort out—interviewing witnesses, examining evidence, discovering that neither party was lying but a third person had actually taken the disputed item. Hours of diplomacy, of soothing wounded pride, of reminding everyone why they were here in the first place.

By the time evening fell, Porsche was exhausted in ways that had nothing to do with physical labor.

"Come with me," Kinn said as they finally escaped the crowd. "I know a place."

Porsche was too tired to argue. He followed Kinn up a winding path that led away from the valley proper, climbing higher into the mountains. His legs burned with the effort, but he didn't complain. Kinn looked just as exhausted, his shoulders tight with tension that hadn't been there at the start of the day.

The path ended at a ridge that overlooked the entire valley. From here, they could see everything—the buildings, the people moving through the streets, the cooking fires being lit as night approached. It looked peaceful. 

Nothing like the powder keg of tension it actually was.

Kinn sat down on the edge, his legs dangling over the drop. After a moment's hesitation, Porsche joined him.

"I come here when I need to remember why I'm doing this," Kinn said quietly. "Why it's worth the effort."

"Is it? Worth it?" Porsche stared out at the valley. "We nearly had a riot today over a stolen loaf of bread."

"But we didn't. We stopped it. That's progress."

"Barely."

"Progress is progress." Kinn reached into his coat and pulled out a wine bottle. "I've been saving this. Thought we might need it eventually."

Porsche raised an eyebrow. "You carry wine with you?"

"I carry solutions to stress. Today, that solution is wine." Kinn uncorked it and took a long drink, then offered it to Porsche. "No cups. Hope you don't mind sharing."

Porsche took the bottle, their fingers brushing. The wine was sweet and strong, burning pleasantly down his throat. "This is good."

"Dragon-made. From fermented moonflowers. Stronger than human wine, so pace yourself."

"Noted." Porsche took another drink anyway. After the day they'd had, strong sounded perfect.

They passed the bottle back and forth in silence, watching the valley lights grow brighter as darkness fell. The wine warmed Porsche from the inside, easing the tension in his shoulders, making everything feel slightly softer around the edges.

"Do you really think this will work?" Porsche asked after his third or fourth drink. "Long term? Or are we just delaying the inevitable?"

"I don't know." Kinn's words were slightly less precise than usual, the wine affecting him too. "But I know that if we don't try, we guarantee failure. Trying gives us a chance."

"Very philosophical."

"I'm tipsy. I'm allowed to be philosophical." Kinn took another drink. "Besides, you asked."

Porsche laughed, surprising himself. "Fair point."

"Tell me something," Kinn said, his eyes still on the valley. "What do you want? For the future? Not what your father wanted, or what the clan expected. What do you want?"

Porsche had to think about that. No one had ever asked him before. His wants had always been secondary to Chay's safety, to the clan's needs, to survival.

"I want Chay to be happy," he said finally. "I want him to wake up and have the life he chose. With Kimhan. Without fear."

"That's what you want for him. What about for you?"

"I..." Porsche stopped, taking another drink while he tried to find words. "I don't know. I've never thought about it. My whole life has been about protecting Chay. Being the good son, the strong warrior, the reliable brother. I don't know who I am outside of that."

"You're someone who laughs at backwards walls," Kinn said, and there was something soft in his voice. "Someone who learns fast and cares deeply and makes terrible jokes when he's nervous. Someone who cries for his brother and gets angry at injustice and coordinates dragon work crews like he was born to it."

Porsche looked at him, surprised. "You noticed all that?"

"I pay attention to interesting people." Kinn met his eyes, and in the dim light, his usual coldness was completely gone. "You're interesting, Porsche."

The wine made Porsche bold. "So are you. When you're not being insufferable."

"I'm always insufferable. You just got used to it."

"Maybe." Porsche took another drink, the bottle getting noticeably lighter. "Or maybe you're less insufferable when you're not carrying the weight of the world alone."

"I'm not alone anymore, am I?" Kinn's voice was quiet. "You've been helping. These past few days. It's been... easier. Having someone who understands."

"Someone to share the burden with."

"Someone to share everything with," Kinn corrected, and something in the way he said it made Porsche's heart skip.

They were sitting close now, Porsche realized. When had that happened? Their shoulders were touching, their hands nearly brushing on the stone between them. Kinn's face was flushed from the wine, his usual perfect control softened into something more vulnerable.

"Kinn," Porsche said, not sure what he was asking.

"Porsche." Kinn turned toward him fully, and gods, his eyes were beautiful in the starlight. Golden and warm and looking at Porsche like he was something precious.

They leaned toward each other slowly, inevitably. Porsche could smell the wine on Kinn's breath, feel the warmth radiating from his body. Could see the exact moment Kinn's eyes dropped to his lips and then back up, questioning, offering.

Porsche closed the distance.

The space between them thinned — soft, trembling and fragile. Kinn leaned in, close enough that Porsche could feel the warmth of his breath, could almost taste the faint trace of wine and something that was uniquely him. His hand came up to cup Porsche’s face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone with devastating gentleness.

Porsche’s breath hitched, something in his chest cracking open. This was—this was everything he hadn’t known he wanted. Kinn’s gentleness, his strength, the way he hovered there as if Porsche were something to be cherished. 

But then—

Chay's face flashed through his mind. Pale and unconscious, lying in that healing cave while Porsche was up here, on the verge of kissing a dragon.

Porsche pulled back abruptly, his hand coming up to press against Kinn's chest. "Wait. I can't—"

"What's wrong?" Kinn's eyes were hazy, confused, his lips still parted.

"I can't do this. Not while Chay is—" Porsche's voice broke. "Not while he's still unconscious. Not while I don't know if he's going to be okay. I can't just—I can't kiss someone while my brother might be dying."

Understanding cleared some of the wine-fog from Kinn's eyes. He pulled back immediately, putting space between them. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—the wine made me—"

"No, it's alright, I—," Porsche said, his face burning. "It's just—"

Kinn cut him off: "When he wakes up. When you're ready—" He stopped, searching for words. "I'll still want this."

"You will?"

"Yes." Kinn's voice was certain despite the wine. "I don't make a habit of wanting people. But you—I want you. I'll wait until you're ready to want me back without reservations."

Porsche's throat felt tight. "That might be a while."

"I have time." Kinn managed a small smile. "Dragons are patient."

"Are they?"

"No. But I'll learn to be. For you."

The promise hung between them, heavy with potential and patience. Porsche wanted to close the distance again, wanted to kiss Kinn until the guilt faded and all that remained was want. But he couldn't. Not yet.

"Thank you," Porsche said instead. "For understanding."

"Thank you for being honest." Kinn stood up, only slightly unsteady. "We should head back. The wine was stronger than I thought."

"You're drunk," Porsche observed, standing as well and immediately realizing he was more drunk than Kinn. The world tilted slightly.

"So are you." Kinn caught his elbow, steadying him. "Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk. I'm not that drunk."

Porsche immediately proved himself a liar by stumbling over a rock that definitely hadn't been there a moment ago. Kinn's arm wrapped around his waist, holding him upright with effortless strength.

"Not that drunk, he says," Kinn muttered, but there was fondness in his voice.

They made their way down the path together, Kinn supporting Porsche's weight, both of them slightly clumsy and definitely tipsy. Porsche was acutely aware of everywhere their bodies touched—Kinn's arm around his waist, Kinn's hand gripping his side, the solid warmth of Kinn's body against his.

"This doesn't count," Porsche said as they walked.

"What doesn't count?"

"You helping me walk. This is just—practical. Not romantic."

"Of course. Very practical. Nothing romantic about me holding you so you don't fall off a mountain."

"Exactly."

"Though I might enjoy it anyway."

"That's allowed. I might enjoy it too."

They reached the valley proper, and Kinn walked Porsche all the way to the healing cave before finally releasing him. They stood at the entrance, neither quite ready to part ways.

"When Chay wakes up," Porsche said, swaying slightly. "When I know he's okay. When I can think about anything other than whether my brother is going to survive—"

"I'll be here," Kinn finished.

"Promise?"

"I don't make promises I can't keep." Kinn's eyes were warm despite his usual careful words. "But yes. I promise."

Porsche smiled at Kinn, genuinely and warm. "Good night, Kinn."

"Good night, Porsche."

Porsche watched him walk away, his black hair catching the moonlight, his posture slightly less rigid than usual. Then he turned and entered the healing cave, his heart full of a promise that felt like the beginning of something inevitable.

Chay was still unconscious, still healing. But beside him, Kimhan's breathing was deeper and stronger. The wyvern's scales had regained some of their luster. There was progress, however slow.

Porsche sat down in his usual spot.

"Wake up soon, Chay," he whispered. "I've got something to tell you. Something I need your advice about."

Because somewhere between the chaos, Porsche might had started falling for a dragon.

And he had no about it—for now..

𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹...

Chapter Text

How I feel every time I try to write an actual slow burn story

but either don’t write it… or totally mess it up.

Porsche woke with a pounding headache and a mouth that tasted like something had died in it.

He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. Where was he? His quarters. Somehow he'd made it back. The last thing he remembered clearly was... what? Working with Kinn. Then Kinn reached out and pulled something from his pocket. Alcohol. Dragon alcohol. Everything after that was a blur of laughter and warmth and—

Had he said something to Kinn? Done something? The memories were fragmented and unreliable.

Porsche forced himself upright, immediately regretting it as the room spun. Day five. Chay was still unconscious. He needed to check on him. Needed to—

"You look terrible."

Porsche's head snapped toward the entrance of his quarters, then immediately regretted the sudden movement. Kinn stood there, looking far too put-together for someone who'd probably drunk as much as Porsche had.

"How are you not dying?" Porsche croaked.

"Dragon constitution. We metabolize alcohol differently." Kinn stepped inside, carrying what looked like a water skin and some kind of bread. "You, however, are very human. And very hungover."

"Thanks for the reminder." Porsche accepted the water gratefully, drinking deeply. "What happened last night?"

Something flickered across Kinn's expression—too quick to identify. "You don't remember?"

"I remember us drinkig together alcohol. After that..." Porsche shrugged, immediately regretting the movement. "Bits and pieces. Nothing clear."

Kinn was quiet for a moment. "I wanted to ask you about something. From last night."

"Oh gods, what did I do?" Porsche's mind raced through embarrassing possibilities. "Did I insult someone? Break something? Please tell me I didn't try to fight a dragon."

"Nothing like that." Kinn's voice was careful. "You made... we talked about some things. Made some promises. I wanted to know if you meant them. If you're okay with what almost happened."

Porsche stared at him, trying to pull up memories that wouldn't come. Promises? What almost happened? His mind was completely blank beyond vague impressions of sitting too close to Kinn, of warmth and maybe—.

"I..." Porsche stopped, frustrated by his own lack of memory. "I'm sorry, I honestly can't remember. What did I say?"

Kinn's expression shuttered. "It doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does if you're asking about it."

"I'm asking because I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with—" Kinn stopped, shaking his head. "But if you don't remember, then it obviously wasn't important to you."

"That's not fair. I was drunk. I'm always doing this—saying things, making promises I don't remember the next day. It doesn't mean they weren't important." Porsche rubbed his face. "What did I promise?"

"Don't worry about it." Kinn's tone had gone formal, distant. "I shouldn't have assumed that drunk words meant anything. That was my mistake."

"Kinn—"

"We have work to do. The integration efforts won't manage themselves." Kinn turned to leave. "Drink the water. Eat the bread. Try not to make any more promises you won't remember."

He was gone before Porsche could respond.

Porsche sat there, staring at the empty doorway, a sick feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with the hangover. He'd hurt Kinn somehow. Said something important, promised something meaningful, and then dismissed it as drunken nonsense.

"What did I do?" he asked the empty room.

No answer came.

The next few hours were awkward.

Porsche found Kinn coordinating a meeting between human clan leaders and dragon representatives about resource distribution. Kinn was his usual efficient self—calm, organized, solving problems with minimal fuss. But he wouldn't meet Porsche's eyes. Wouldn't engage beyond what was professionally necessary.

"We need to discuss the northern housing section," Porsche said, trying to catch his attention.

"Speak with Yok. She's handling that area."

"But yesterday you said—"

"Yesterday was yesterday." Kinn's tone was perfectly neutral. "Today, Yok is handling it."

Porsche felt like he'd been slapped. This was worse than Kinn being angry. This was Kinn treating him like any other worker—professional, distant...replaceable.

The meeting progressed, and Porsche found himself watching Kinn more than he should. Trying to figure out what had changed. What he'd said that had mattered enough to warrant this cold shoulder.

Then she appeared.

A human warrior from one of the allied clans—tall, beautiful, confident, with the easy swagger of someone who'd never doubted their place in the world. She approached Kinn during a break in negotiations.

"Jentys (Leader) Kinn," she said, her voice carrying a warmth that made Porsche's jaw clench. "I wanted to thank you personally for the accommodations. Your hospitality has been exceptional."

"It's merely practical," Kinn replied. "We all benefit from proper housing and resources."

"Still." She smiled, moving closer. "It's more than we expected from dragons. You've been very... generous."

Her hand brushed his arm—casual, but deliberate. Porsche's hands clenched into fists.

What was he doing? Why did he care if some warrior flirted with Kinn? It was none of his business. Kinn could talk to whoever he wanted. Could let whoever he wanted touch his arm. It didn't matter to Porsche.

Except it did.

"Perhaps you could show me around the valley later?" the warrior continued. "I'd love to learn more about dragon architecture. And other things."

The implication was clear. Porsche wanted to stride over there and—and what? He had no right to interfere. No claim on Kinn. They were just... what were they? Colleagues? Reluctant allies? Were they even friends?

And maybe almost something more, if last night had meant what Porsche suspected it meant.

"I'm quite busy," Kinn said, his tone remaining neutral. "But I'm sure Tankhun would be happy to provide a tour."

"Oh, I was hoping you specifically—"

"Kinn." Porsche didn't remember deciding to move, but suddenly he was there, standing too close, inserting himself between Kinn and the warrior. "We need to discuss the northern section. Now."

The warrior raised an eyebrow. "Can't it wait?"

"No." Porsche's voice came out harder than intended. "It's urgent."

Kinn's expression was carefully blank, but something flickered in his eyes. "Excuse me," he said to the warrior. "Duty calls."

They walked away from the meeting area, Porsche leading them toward a more private corner. He could feel Kinn's gaze on him but didn't know what to say now that he had him alone.

"What's so urgent about the northern section?" Kinn asked.

"I—" Porsche stopped, realizing he had nothing. "There's a problem with the foundation."

"There's no problem with the foundation. I inspected it this morning."

"Then there's a new problem."

"Is there?" Kinn's tone was flat. "Or did you just not like someone else talking to me?"

Porsche felt his face heat. "That's not—I was just—"

"Jealous?"

The word hung between them. Porsche wanted to deny it, but the truth stuck in his throat. Yes. He'd been jealous. Irrationally, intensely jealous of someone touching Kinn's arm and smiling at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Porsche said weakly.

"Don't you?" Kinn stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Because it looked very much like you couldn't stand watching someone else flirt with me. Like you had to interrupt. Like you wanted to stake some kind of claim."

"I don't—you can talk to whoever you want."

"I know I can. The question is why you care."

Porsche opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I don't—"

"You don't remember last night. Fine. But I do." Kinn's eyes were intense now, all the coldness burned away. "I remember you saying you couldn't stop thinking about me. That you wanted to see where this—" he gestured between them, "—could go. That you were ready to try, despite everything. And then this morning, you dismissed it as drunken nonsense you don't even remember."

Memories rushed back—fragmented but suddenly vivid. Sitting close to Kinn. His hand on Kinn's face. Words spilling out that he'd been too afraid to say sober. Almost kissing him before he, himself had pulled back.

"Oh," Porsche breathed. "Oh, I—"

"Said it was what you 'always do,'" Kinn continued, his voice tight. "Make promises when drunk that don't matter the next day. So I let it go. Decided not to push. To go back to being professional colleagues. And then you march over here, radiating jealousy, glaring at someone for the crime of touching my arm. So which is it, Porsche? Did you mean it or not?"

Porsche felt like his brain was short-circuiting. He'd said all that? Had almost kissed Kinn? And then dismissed it as meaningless drunken rambling?

"I'm an idiot," he said.

"That's not an answer."

"I meant it." The words came out in a rush. "Whatever I said last night—I meant it. I just didn't remember this morning, and I panicked. I've been terrified for days that I was developing feelings for you, and then apparently drunk me decided to just... say it out loud. And sober me completely forgot and made it seem like it didn't matter."

Kinn stared at him. "You've been terrified about developing feelings for me?"

"Yes! You're a dragon. I'm human. A month ago, I was hunting your kind. And now I can't stop thinking about you. Can't stop wanting to be near you. Can't stand watching someone else flirt with you." Porsche ran his hands through his hair. "It's insane. We barely know each other. But when I saw her touching your arm, I wanted to—"

"What?" Kinn's voice had gone soft. "What did you want to do?"

"I wanted to tell her you were mine." Porsche's face burned. "Which is ridiculous because you're not mine. You're not anyone's. You're—"

Kinn closed the distance between them, his hand cupping Porsche's jaw. "Finish that sentence."

"You're..." Porsche's breath caught. "You're the person I want to be mine. If you want that too. If last night wasn't just—"

"Last night wasn't just anything," Kinn interrupted. "Last night was me finally admitting that I've been attracted to you since you yelled at me while dangling from my jaws. That I look forward to seeing you every morning. That working beside you is the highlight of my day. That watching you laugh makes me want to hear that sound for the rest of my life."

Porsche's heart was hammering. "That's... a lot."

"You said similar things last night. In between saying you couldn't stop thinking about my eyes and asking if dragons could kiss."

"Please tell me I didn't actually ask that."

"No you didn't''. Kinn chuckled while his thumb stroked across Porsche's cheekbone, then he added "So this morning, I wanted to know if you If you meant what you said. And you called it meaningless drunk promises."

"I'm so sorry." Porsche leaned into the touch. "I panicked. I do that when I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"This. You. How much I want this when I barely understand what 'this' even is." Porsche met his eyes. "My brother is soul-bonded to yours. I can't—we can't bond like that. We can't have what they have. And I'm terrified of starting something that can't be completed."

"So am I," Kinn admitted. "But I'm more terrified of not trying. Of walking away because the ending might be complicated. Of never knowing what we could be together."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"What if it does?"

They stood there, faces inches apart, both breathing too fast. Porsche could feel the warmth radiating from Kinn, could see the vulnerability in those golden eyes.

"I'm sorry but...," Porsche said quietly. "I'm not ready yet. To kiss you. To be with you—truly...'', There was a moment of silence before Porsche spoke again: ''I want to—gods, I want to. But when we do this, I—I want everything to settle down first..."

Kinn's smile was small but genuine. "I can wait for that."

"Yeah?"

"Porsche, I've been waiting since day one. A little longer won't kill me." Kinn's hand dropped from his face, but he caught Porsche's hand instead. "But I need to know—are we doing this? Are we trying? Or are we going back to being just colleagues?"

"We're trying." Porsche squeezed his hand. "Definitely trying. I just need time to wrap my head around it. And to stop panicking long enough to actually enjoy it."

"That seems reasonable."

"Really? Because I feel like I'm being ridiculous."

"You are being ridiculous." Kinn's tone was fond. "But so am I. We're both ridiculous together. It seems appropriate."

Despite his racing heart, Porsche laughed. "What happens now?"

"Now we go back to work. We continue building bridges between our peoples. And we figure this out—" Kinn gestured between them, "—as we go. Together. No more drunk confessions that you forget. No more jealous interruptions when people flirt with me."

"I make no promises about the jealousy thing."

"I noticed." Kinn's smirk was devastating. "It was actually quite satisfying."

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late."

They walked back toward the meeting area, still holding hands until they got close enough that people might see. Then Kinn let go, but not before squeezing once more.

"Tonight," Kinn said. "After our duties are done. Meet me?"

"Where?"

"The garden. The one with the glowing plants. Where we can talk without interruption."

Porsche's stomach flipped. "Okay. Tonight."

"And Porsche? Try to remember this conversation. I don't want to repeat it a third time."

"I'll remember," Porsche smiled and promised, "Every word."

And he meant it.

𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒𝒹...