How to tame the dragon

      Let’s start with the fact that I’m angry as hell, and it’s definitely written all over my face. I’ve had enough time to think things through and analyze everything, so this decision wasn’t made in the heat of the moment, but rather after a careful consideration. No one has ever accused me of being impulsive. That’s probably why I’ve achieved a sizable success in my career.              Sivan frowns as he reads the resignation letter, then looks at me being confused. There’s no point pretending now, what happened behind my back is out in the open. After a deep sigh, my boss (and now a former friend) crumples the paper and tosses it aside, his entire demeanor radiating disagreement.              "Not a problem,I’ll write another one," I say with a cold tone.              "Taehyung, listen!" Sivan starts to speak, but immediately falters under my piercing glare.              I’m more than sure he feels guilty, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me.              "No excuses needed—the situation is already crystal clear!" My face twists in a disappointment. "I can’t believe that you kept this from me!"              "Your anger is completely justified, but at least let me explain, since I’m here." He waits, watching me tormenting him with the silence, and continues only after my reluctant nod. "Jungkook had already told me you’re aware of his feelings and his years of trying to get closer to you. He warned me your reaction was… mixed which is understandable! And I’m not here to justify myself, just to tell you my side of the story…" He pauses briefly, clearing his throat. "From a father’s perspective."              I cross my arms, trying to suppress the rising anger. Whatever he says now won’t change the main point of the problem. Sivan exploited his position and our friendship as well, that’s a downright vile!              "Jungkook has always been incredibly stubborn. Sometimes to the point of an absurdity, and I’ve even had to give in because it was obvious - things could spiral otherwise. When I found out he had feelings for you, I was furious—I thought it was just another way to spite me, especially since we weren’t on the best terms at the time. I assumed it was just a rebellious phase, a teenager desperate for the attention. After a few fights, though, my wife convinced me to back off for a while. We really hoped he’d grow out of it. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of him liking a man, let alone someone much older. Honestly, I didn’t take him seriously? I mean he was popular with a girls, so how could he suddenly switch sides?" He gives me a guilty look. "After the high school, he wanted to study design, but I was adamant and sent him to England. I thought distance—both in career and location—would make him move on. But time passed, and nothing changed. Then he called his mother and blamed me for everything."              "Was that around the time I started dating Saiho?" I clarify.              "Yes! Jungkook completely lost his mind.” I study Sivan’s face and only now notice the exhaustion and despair he’s been masking. "I had someone keeping an eye on him, so when he started getting tattoos and piercings, I even flew over to talk sense into him. Useless. Again, I thought it was just a defiance. Then came a phase where he cycled through girls like a gloves as if searching for himself. I was relieved that it weren`t guys, but eventually, he called me and said, ‘I really tried, but Taehyung never left my heart or mind.’"              "He didn’t even know me as a person! He just crafted some perfect image and started worshipping it. That’s a pure insanity!" I snap.              "Partly true, but he’s had some time to observe you, study your preferences, and draw conclusions from afar." A low defense, but still.              "Social media doesn’t reflect someone’s true self. If anything, it’s the opposite! A perfect facade can hide something rotten underneath!" I argue zealously.              "I won’t deny that. But Jungkook had another argument for your exclusiveness its my absolute trust in you and admiration for your professionalism." He fends off again. "He knew I’d never appoint an unworthy deputy."              "Why didn’t you tell me the truth?" Frankly, I don’t see the point in dragging this out, so I cut to the chase.              "Because it was Jungkook’s only condition. When the university troubles started, my wife said enough was enough and I agreed. He was rebelling on all fronts, and next would’ve been drugs or worse. He’s not stupid, but desperation makes people reckless. We talked all night, and I was stunned by the depth of his feelings for you."              "He is fanatically obsessed!"              "Not exactly." I’m surprised by how fiercely Sivan defends his son. "His certainty was almost enviable. He had an answer and an arguments for every doubt—enough to wear down even a skeptic like me. He convinced me to arrange his internship and keep his feelings in a secret, promising that if you rejected him within a year, he’d give up."              "And you believed that?" I scoff, remembering the kid’s persistence.              "Honestly, I was sure you’d shut him down. You’re polar opposites and I couldn’t imagine any other outcome!"              "You don’t know your son well enough," I say wearily. "And when you agreed to this, why didn’t you consider the alternatives? Why the hell did you send us both to Brussels?!" My temper flares again.              "It was just for three days!"              "We almost slept together, damn it!" I shout. "The only thing which stopped me was my friendship with you! But now that’s worthless because, in the end, you practically served your son to me on a platter!"              Sivan removes his glasses, rubbing his eyes under the weight of guilt.              "I was certain that he’d annoy you there! I thought Brussels would make him realize you’re from different worlds!" he raises his voice.              "A dragon chooses a dragon…" I mutter unexpectedly.              "What?" He looks confused.              "His whole persona isn’t just a rebellion or a performance. There’s a depth beneath the Jungkook`s theory - almost fantastical, which makes it even more compelling. And overall, your son is remarkable: smart, witty, caring, responsible…" I smile faintly, gazing out the window. "If not for this five-year obsession that stunned me, I’d say he didn’t just conquer me, he awakened something far deeper than just an attraction."              "He’s terrified that he ruined everything by confessing too soon," Sivan adds anxiously.              "He did."       "I failed you. I won’t deny my terrible misjudgment, but believe me, I never intended to serve him to you. I thought he’d last a couple of months at most, but every time I called, you praised him. I was sure Brussels would be the breaking point, but even there, things were oddly calm."              "Your son is a master seducer—something you clearly underestimated," I admit being doomed.              "It’s hard to imagine someone like him finding a way to your heart."              "‘Someone like him’? Why do you underestimate him so much?" I’m oddly defensive.              "Don’t misunderstand! It’s not about that!" Sivan backtracks. "You’re just from different worlds and it’s hard to picture you together. Over the five years, I went through every stage—rage, denial, finally accepting his insane love for you. Give a credit to my wife she was the one who convinced me to prioritize his happiness, even if it clashed with my principles."              The prolonged silence strains my already frayed nerves. The ticking clock is maddening, but I need to focus.              "I’m still quitting," I say firmly.              "You won’t get my signature until you sort yourself out. Take a week, two, damn it, a month! But don’t you dare to leave!" Sivan insists.              "Maybe you need some time too. We’ll revisit this later."              "What about Jungkook?" he asks nervously.       "Nothing. I’m not ready to discuss it."              "I don’t even remember the last time I took such a long vacation. I’m practically a workaholic, so by the second week after finishing all my chores, binge-watching dramas, and reading a dozen of books I started to burn out. Nothing brings me joy anymore: not a good food, not planned activities, not even meeting with the friends. Nothing at all. It doesn’t even make me angry—just deeply unsettled. At first, I stubbornly ignored these obvious things, but by the day twelve, there was no denying it: I’m fucking miserable. And clearly not because of the work, but because of that dragon brat who turned my perfectly curated world upside down."              It’s strange, but I still remember his scent, even after all this time. Not his cologne—just the natural, unique smell of his skin. And his voice, too—that slight rasp, the charming lisp from his split tongue which constantly echoes in my head. His infectious catching laugh, those sly dragon eyes, that tempting body—Jungkook haunts me.              What is the weirdest part of it? He hasn’t called, texted, or made a single move. Apparently, he anticipated this outcome too and chose the "lay low" strategy. I don’t know if it’s the right one, but it definitely works. If he’d pestered me for a meeting, I’d have pulled away even more. Instead, he gave me some space to think and, against all odds, made me miss him.              I can’t even imagine how hard it was for him to step back. Though, after five years of waiting, a few weeks must feel like nothing.              I try to push these thoughts away, but they multiply like a mold, impossible to scrub clean. The only solution seems to be burning it all down—along with this aching, lovesick heart.              If someone had told me a few months ago that some tattooed punk would get under my skin like this, I’d have laughed in their face. I’ve always had a perfect type, and it were never guys like him. The fact that I apparently have a kink for tattoos and piercings is a revelation. How the hell was Jungkook so sure I’d like it? Hair can be dyed back, but the rest isn’t so easy to undo. I can’t even picture him without those scales, Sanskrit ink, silver rings, and barbells.              For some reason, I think of that tiny heart on his right cheekbone.              Who even does that? "You’ll kiss it every morning and night!" Yeah, right.              I can still see his smug, confident face when he said it, like it was already a done deal.              "Faded from your lips…"              Bullshit.              I don’t know what is the matter with me, but I end up scrolling through my followers and find Jungkook’s account. His username is a jumble of letters and numbers, like a bot, but the profile pic gives him away. It’s public, and my curiosity wins. I start scrolling backward through three years of his life, watching his transformation unfold.              The early posts show a nineteen-year-old version of him—barely recognizable. Cute, but not someone I’d have noticed. Lots of photos with friends and girls from his time in England. He was really popular.              One picture stings with a jealousy: a pretty blonde perched on his lap, kissing his cheek while he takes a selfie. His tattooed hand rests on her thigh, and my mouth goes dry. Suddenly, I remember our crazed shower encounter, although now, it feels like a dream.              Timeline-wise, this was around the period when I dove headfirst into things with Saiho, flaunting it all over my Instagram. I never posted him directly, but the quotes and hints were pretty obvious. Knowing how Jungkook felt, I can’t imagine how much that must have hurt him.              Then I find the tattoo parlor post—the fresh, bandaged heart on his cheekbone. The caption makes me freeze. I reread it three times, being stunned.              "Right now, you’re looking at this and seeing more than just a tiny drawing. I knew you would."              Goosebumps are all over my body.              Have I mentioned how terrifyingly well he plays this game?              It’s like he’s watching me, not physically, but on a some mental level. Next thing I know, I’m on my laptop, deep-diving into the dragon mythology. The more I read, the more it unsettles me. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like reading something and just knowing—this is about you.              When I check Jungkook’s profile again, there’s a new Stories—a black screen with a white text:              "It’ll be like I have never existed…"              I blink and reread it. Something ugly and panicked coils in my chest. Before I can think, I’m calling Sivan without any greeting, just:              "Is Jungkook okay?"       "No. Or I don’t know," he says after a pause.              "Where is he?"              "He moved out two weeks ago. He doesn`t answer the calls, went into the full rebellion. We’re exhausted searching for him…"              "Moved out?" I echo, stunned.              "I have no idea. Said he’s an adult and can take care of himself."              Sivan keeps talking, but I hang up and check Jungkook’s Stories again. The geolocation is a bar I know which is in a thirty minutes by foot, faster will be by car. Without a hesitation, I grab my coat and bolt outside.              The bar is dim and stuffy. I don`t particularly like it, but their cocktails are good and I’ve been here before. It’s Friday, so every table’s packed, but I’m not planning to stay. I just need to see him, make sure he’s fine—that’s what I tell myself, anyway.              Then I spot him, that familiar purple hair. My chest tightens, claws scraping against my ribs. I watch him, not daring to approach, but he feels it. Slowly, he turns to me.              God, this feels like some cheesy drama. We stare at each other for way too long, long enough for his friends to side-eye me.              I need to do something. Standing here like an idiot won’t help. It’d be nice if someone got his scaly ass up first, but Jungkook looks away instead.              That’s so unlike him, it shocks me into action. I stride over, put my hand on his shoulder. He flinches, glancing up at me with a question in his eyes.              "Friend of yours?" one of his buddies asks, sizing me up.              "Hi," comes the quiet, dragon-soft reply.              "Let’s talk," I nod toward the exit, because it is too loud in here.              He follows me, but stops at the bar, hands in pockets and a carefully blank face.              "How are you?" The dumbest question possible.              Seriously, how? After everything, after his confession, I just vanished for three weeks. What kind of answer did I expect?              "Fine," he shrugs, his gaze drifting over the crowd.              "What was that Stories about?" I demand, though I have no right.              "Since when do you stalk my socials?" His eyes snap back to me, amused.              This coldness is new for me. Even when I rejected him, even when I kicked him out of my office, he never shut me out like this. It stings.              Hurt? Probably.       "Since I found out you’ve been spying on me for five years. I’ve earned it!" Petty, but I don’t care.              Jungkook laughs, shaking his head, then signals his friends he’ll be back in a five minutes.              Five minutes? That’s all I get?              It pisses me off. That possessive feeling from the exhibition surges back—watching him charm everyone except me. Worst of all, I don’t know what to say. I came here with no plan, acting spontaneously.              And his royal dragon highness’s timer is ticking.              Every question I think of sounds absurd. I bite my lip, glaring at him. He stays silent but doesn’t leave, just watches me struggling with a faint smile. It’s like he’s reading my mind, scanning me.              "Are you drinking with friends?" I nod toward the table.              "Yeah."              "Are they… older?" I squint my eyes hard to see from here.              "Yeah." His one-word answers are infuriating.              " Do you know them well?" I glower at the group.              "No."              "Why’d you come here?" Each question is dumber than the last.              "What’s the point?" He finally snaps. "Do I owe you an explanation?"              "No," I mutter, mentally kicking myself. "But… was that Stories about me?"       "Even if it was, would it change anything?"              "Jungkook, listen…"              "No, its you listen." He steps closer, his woodsy cologne with its bitter edge wrapping around me. "Remember when I said I’d answer honestly, but you had to be ready for it?" I nod weakly. "I’ve had time to think. To realize that you are not interested in someone like me, or my years of love, or my determination to win you."**              "So you’re giving up now?" My voice cracks.              "Doesn’t matter anymore," he says flatly.              "You’re lying!" I force a laugh. " You are bluffing!"              “Tonight I'm going to lose my virginity,” — Jungkook says with a smile, which makes me stare back in a daze and clench my hands with anger. “With a man, as you managed to notice.” He turns his head to the table and waves to one of his friends.              "I want to shake all the nonsense out of him at once."              "What kind of virginity nonsense is this? Has he completely lost his mind?"              So what does this mean? He stirred up my feelings, got me attached to him, and now I’m just supposed to swallow it all in silence? First instinct is to slap him second — to beat the crap out of that bastard who dared lay a finger on my dragon, and third…              "Wait a minute!"              "What if this is just another act of a pure bravado? I narrow my eyes, analyzing his gaze, facial expressions, and overall body language. Jungkook said he studied me well, but I’m not a fool either. Stop making an idiot out of me!"              “Well, go ahead! Go and charm your macho, and I'll sit and have a look. Should I give you a condoms and a lubricant? I have it in the car,” I say sarcastically, watching his gaze change in the blink of an eye.              “Fuck you, Taehyung!” Jungkook spits in a fit of anger. “Do you understand?!” He pushes me away and heads towards the exit.              I follow the rapidly retreating figure with my eyes and approach the table to grab his jacket and a phone. I stop a guy who’s about to follow Jungkook with a scorching glare and inform him that their buddy won’t come back.              "And who the hell are you, anyway?"              "I'm his dragon, and he's mine," I toss back with a smile, fully aware it’ll probably make me sound insane.              And honestly? I couldn’t care less.              Jungkook is leaning against a brick wall on the corner of the building, smoking nervously. I don’t remember him doing that before, but now’s not the time for lectures. I walk up to him and hold out his jacket and phone. He snatches them away, too impulsively, almost tearing them from my hands. He tries bypass me, but ends up being pinned against the wall.              "Got a problem with a hearing?!" he shouts way too loud, drawing glances and whispers from the people nearby.              "Stop being angry!" I grip his forearms and give him a slight shake, only to be shoved back so hard I nearly stumble onto the road.              "Back off, got it?!" he snaps furiously, though his eyes glisten with the tears.              "Do you think you're the only stubborn person here?" I smirk and step closer again. "Your friends aren’t waiting for you anymore!"              "What did you tell them?" Jungkook hisses, struggling to break free.              "That you're my dragon, and I'm yours."              I feel the tension drain from his muscles under my grip. With his relieved exhale and the sudden fire in his eyes, I sense his entire state—that moment when you're terrified of something, and then, finally, all the bad things just...come to the end.              "Alright, come here." I yank my dragon miracle closer and hear a quiet sniffle. "Hey! Don’t even think about it, Jungkook!"               You wish!" He lets out a slightly hysterical laugh against my neck.              I stroke his hair and back, holding him as tight as I can. Then, the ground practically disappears under my feet when he crashes his lips against my cheek, breathing heavily before shifting to my ear, the forked tip of his tongue is flicking inside. He nips, teases for half a second, and whispers:              "I missed you so damn much. You have no idea."              "Where’s your apartment? I drove here, so..." My fingers are already threading through his purple strands, soothing him.              "Garosu-gil," he murmurs before finally pulling back.              “You decided to lose your virginity, huh! — I snort indignantly, rolling my eyes, take his hand and lead him to the parking lot.              I know that people are staring at us, because at first we almost got into a fight, then we somehow hugged in no uncertain terms, and now we’re leaving like a couple.              And I don’t care about anyone!              When we find ourselves in a car, the first thing we do is dig into each other’s lips with a hungry kiss. We knock our teeth, laugh nervously and fall back again, but more carefully. I have never been so shaken by the desire to own someone as I am now. If you could eat him, that's exactly what I would do.       Well, because he is so tasty and sexy that I don’t have any strength to resist!              Sometimes it seems to me that Jungkook himself does not realize how fantastic he is...              “If we don't stop, then I'll fuck you right in the car, and for the first time it's a very shitty idea, “ I trying to regain my breath and whisper.              Jungkook bites down on his piercing and flashes a happy smile before giving me the address. He holds my hand the entire way. I’m sure he has lots of things to ask me about and I have plenty to discuss, too, but not right now. For some reason, I don’t want to ruin the magic of this first moment of the intimacy with heavy conversations.              There’ll be the time for that later.              The apartment smells like Jungkook, and I inhale deeply, almost like a predator, licking my lips as if I’ve truly stepped into my dragon’s lair. There’s an awkward tension between us as we sit in the kitchen, trying to loosen up with Jägermeister—the only thing he had on hand.              "I need to step away for a bit to get ready," Jungkook says quietly, refusing my help and sending me off to the guest shower.              I take my time for about half an hour, so he doesn’t worry about me waiting too long. We collide in the hallway, both of us wrapped in towels around our waists like some damn synchronized duo. The sight makes us burst into laughter, and before we even make it to the bedroom, we melt into a ravenous kiss.               Jungkook is driving me crazy with his tongue, exciting me more and more. He either falls with his lips to my neck, leaving wet marks on the skin along with goosebumps, or kisses me again until the exhaustion, seductively mooing straight into my mouth.              There is something wild and unbridled about him, as if I really tamed a dragon.              There is no tenderness in our actions rather a crazy and even animal passion, from which desire turns into a knot and deprives us of reason. We push each other, hitting the walls, and attract all over again for even a deeper kisses. The bed takes us into its embrace and I really hope it doesn't fall apart from our crazy sex. And I have no doubt that this is exactly what it will be.              Several times I ask Jungkook to inform me if there is too much, and under no circumstances tolerate the pain. He nods hastily and rolls a condom on my penis by himself. Adds a lubricant and lies down with his legs slightly apart. All so open and sexy for me that my jaw cramps.              His every emotion is reflected on his face, and I slow down, allowing him to get used to it when he closes his eyes and bites his lip. I kiss, tease, distract from unusual sensations and feel Jungkook gradually relaxing and his fear is receding. I add more lubricant and accelerate slightly, enjoying a truly amazing spectacle. He groans and trembles under me so much that I definitely won’t last long.              I have to pause to prolong the pleasure. I change poses and get high from each of his angles, from behind especially. Compliant, slightly impatient and damn seductive! Jungkook screams at the bend of his elbow and, clasping his pillow, literally sits on me. The palms glide over the frothed skin, squeeze the buttocks, leaving red marks, and make him gasp from an unexpected slap.              Jungkook laughs and throws a sly dragon look over his shoulder at me.              He asks for more and more.              I support his sudden initiative to climb on top to give me a little respite. Of course, I was quite reckless about it. I once dreamed of being fucked to the point of dark flies in front of my eyes and ringing in my ears, well, that’s what I get now. Strong leg muscles allow Jungkook to move at a frantic pace for quite a long time, which is why I end up first, pulsating inside him and wheezing from the madness and pleasure that has covered him.              Catching up after a few seconds, collapsing on my chest and breathing heavily.              What a thrill this is I cannot even express it in words!              I lazily walk my fingers along his wet back and try to reach his face with my lips. By inertia, he immediately turns his head and becomes magnetized in response. I’m hellishly thirsty, but this moment of intimacy not only physical, but also spiritual is so reverent that none of us dares to break it.              “I love you,” I whisper in silence when I come to my senses a little.              Jungkook is silent, and this worries me.              I’m starting to stress myself out and worry. What if he didn't like it? What if this is our the first and the last time? I’m all tense and endlessly waiting for him to at least somehow comment on my confession, having absolutely no idea what an explosion of emotions caused in a person in just three words.              Jungkook has been waiting for this for more than five years.              It was all fast and crazy for me.              But for him, achieving this goal consisted of countless strategies, and now, apparently, he still does not believe in what is happening. Sniffles in my ear — and what, sniffles again?              “Hey!” I slip out of him and try to take him off me, but Jungkook clung to me like a tick, so it’s just impossible to do this. “ What is it? Come on, look at me! Did I say something wrong?”              "Wait a little," he rasps out, standing up and leaving the bedroom without looking at me.              I don't understand anything," I mutter in stunned confusion, sitting alone as I pull off the condom and wipe myself with the towel discarded on the floor.              I wait for about two minutes before going to look for Jungkook. I find him in the bathroom leaning slightly over the sink and splashing water on his face. He notices me in the reflection of a mirror as he straightens up, desperately trying to hide his emotions and the redness in his eyes from the recent tears.              I wrap my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek to his shoulder, and say quietly:              "I'll love you no matter what, hear me? Even when you're weak, crying like a fanatic from the happiness, or crazy in how you show your feelings. Don't be afraid to be who you really are without all those masks and made-up strategies. I think you just didn’t expect me to confess so soon, so you don’t know how to respond. Am I right?"              "Someone’s learning to read me too?" Jungkook finally turns around and presses himself against me. "You really did shock me. And it’s not that I have nothing to say, it’s just that I don’t know how to put my love into words. It’s so huge, can you get it? Everything else just sounds flat and ridiculous. Sometimes, I scare myself with how much I feel! I already freaked you out once with my confessions, so I’m terrified of it happening again. You have no idea how much!"       "I promise it won’t," I say firmly.              “Why?"              "Yes, I was angry at you and Sivan back then, but I've had a time to think. I've never missed anyone this much in my entire life!" I turn my head to look at him in the mirror - so vulnerable, lost, pressed against my chest. "Though I do worry you might have idealized me too much. That one day I'll just... disappoint you."              "Are you kidding?" Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh.              "No! I'm serious. My temper isn't exactly that sweet, you know. And I really need you to stop trying to predict my every move just to please me. I'd much rather have something real between us, even if it's imperfect - where we can discover each other naturally," I finally say what's been on my mind.              "That... might be hard. It's how my brain works," he admits thoughtfully. "But I'll try."              "Just don't make it so obvious then. It makes me feel like an idiot."              "Deal!" He lifts his head and reaches up for a kiss.              “Were you really going to lose your virginity today?” Curiosity is going to kill me.              “You're about to get angry again!” He clutches my shoulders and I can feel his excitement.                     I pull away and notice a running gaze, which means that someone is nervous again. I take him back to the bedroom because talking with a bare asses in the middle of the bathroom is not such a very pleasure.              "As an exception, I'll allow you to explain," I continue, already lying in bed being wrapped in blankets.              "When you submitted your resignation that was a real shock to me. Honestly, my father surprised me too, because he didn’t lose his temper. He just asked me not to make even bigger mistakes. I’ll admit it, I rushed things with my confession and that raw outpouring of my long-held feelings. You clearly weren’t ready, and I essentially put my dad in a difficult position… I know I should’ve eased into it gradually instead of dumping everything at once. And I was terrified you’d never let me near you again."              "I really was angry," I add during his brief pause, "but even then, I knew those feelings were already inside me. I couldn`t fighting them."              "That’s exactly why I had to change the tactics and resort to an extreme measure the one I really didn’t want to use," Jungkook admits frankly.              "Which was making me jealous?" I smirk.              "That… was part of it," he replies ambiguously.              “So you didn’t answer my question about virginity,” I don’t let go this question.              “Pff! Well, of course I planned to do this, but only with you! It was not for them that my rose was blooming!” blurts out with such confidence that I laugh incontinently, allowing him to lie down on my chest.              “It was important for you to come and claim your rights on me, so I did everything to ensure that this was the case," he continues to confess, tenderly sorting through the strands of my hair.              “What about yours «fuck you»?” I remind him of an unpleasant episode.              “There I freaked out a little because I decided that you would seriously watch another guy glue me,” Jungkook squirts, although I know that at that moment he was clearly not laughing.              “Well, at least somewhere it didn’t go according to the script,” I exhale with the relief.              “My feelings for you just don't fit into three words, you know?” He gets up and looks me in the eye.              “Now I feel tongue-tied!” I try to joke, but it turns out bad.       “Stop it! You know very well how much I expected both my first intimacy and this confession. I still can't believe it!” Again he hides his face somewhere near my neck and moos something obscure.              “I was worried that you might not like sex with a man.” Since we have a revelation evening today, it’s better to clarify everything completely.              “That's right. With any other man - no, and you are my dragon! This is completely different!” They kiss me too actively.              “And you need to immediately indicate that if you want, uh…” I'm trying to find words. “Swap places, then I don't mind.”              “Really?” Jungkook perks up. “Even with our age difference?”              “If you're on top and call me Taehyung-nim in the process, I'll strangle you!” I say and hear catching dragon laughter. “There should be no differences in love. At least for me this is not at all important,” I explain with all seriousness.              “Glad we agree on this,” he nods contentedly.              “Did you feel good? Just be honest!” I would never have thought that I would ask someone such a question.              “I was, am and will be — don’t you even doubt it! And anyway, have you heard anything about the cradle of love?” And his gaze sparkles slyly.              “Is this some kind of a sex position?” I pull with a puzzlement, and Jungkook squirts with laughter.              “My God! No! This place is here.” He rises on his elbow and gently draws his finger around my skin. “Just above the chest and below the collarbone, right next to the heart... I want to fall asleep like this every night in my cradle of love, can I?” And looks through the eyes of the cat from «Shrek».              “You are my dragon's miracle! You can do anything! Don't you understand yet?”              I wake up early in the morning and it takes me a few seconds to realize where I am. Turning my head, my gaze lands on a purple-haired nape. A smile instantly blooms on my lips as a triumphant joy blossoms inside me. For some reason, my soul feels immediately at peace, as if I'd been wandering lost for years and had finally found my long-awaited home.              In this person who's so brilliant, he achieved something that seemed impossible. Though... maybe it only seems that way to me? Perhaps it was all predestined? After all, there must have been a reason why I smiled at my young dragon in that special way back then on Jeju.              I slip out of bed as quietly as possible to avoid waking Jungkook up and head to the kitchen-living area. The barely touched bottle of Jägermeister still stands on the table. Pouring myself some water, I gaze thoughtfully out the window: the city is just waking up while we have our own world here - the one I don't want to leave. Suddenly I notice something near the couch that looks suspiciously like an easel covered with the fabric, with the tubes of an oil paint and a dried palette on a small table nearby. Approaching, I pull back the white cloth and freeze in awe.              It's a portrait of me.       My face in a profile, close up, with a golden dragon's tail visible behind it. The scales look three-dimensional thanks to the perfectly placed shadows. I take a few steps back to see better - the canvas is enormous, definitely over a meter.              "Fucking beautiful," I whisper in admiration.              "The portrait isn't finished yet, but I really like it too," Jungkook's voice makes me startle.              He comes up and hugs me from the behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. We stand silently, each lost in our thoughts. It will take me some time to accept such a generous gift as unconditional dragon love.              As for Jungkook, he needs to get used to and truly understand that I'm here to stay - that I won't disappear even if he says or does something wrong. He still has so much to learn, but we're in no hurry.              A minute later, I'll turn to him and say that he needs to finish the university after all. I'll promise we'll make sure to see each other often, because I'm absolutely certain that we will.              I won't return to Sivan at *Noir et Blanc* because my principles won't allow it. Work and personal life should never mix. But despite my difficult decision, we'll manage to stay on a good terms.              It'll take me some time to get back on my feet, but my modest savings will give me a decent start. Jungkook will stay with me until he leaves, helping out while wrapping up his studies remotely.              These will be the best six months—right up until our parting, when my dragon starts getting restless, the urge to rebel surfacing more and more often. As Sivan says, "You're the only one who can get through to Jungkook," so I'll act carefully—gentle but persistent. I know what to say and when to push.              He's still so young, fiery at times, but he always listens to me.              When Jungkook flies to England, our video calls will become our cherished ritual, especially before going to bed. He'll introduce me to all his university friends and constantly share how much he misses me, but I'll never let him doubt my feelings.              And then, on Christmas, I'll surprise him with a trip to London. That week will be magical—we'll cling to each other's pinkies as we wander the city streets, then love each other endlessly through the nights.              Apparently, I've developed a new hobby—shocking Jungkook and making sure he can never predict me. Who knew it could be this fun? This time, I unbutton my shirt to reveal a small but intricate dragon tattoo right over the spot where he loves to rest his head.              Right beside my heart—which still skips a beat when my lips brush against the faded ink on his right cheekbone.              Mornings and evenings, just as Jungkook always dreamt of.              He didn't tame me. He made me irrevocably, helplessly his.              A dragon chooses his dragon once and for life.