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Hongjoong’s barely made it through the door and bone tired when Seonghwa and Yeosang greet him. They’re both sitting on the couch, the elf reading a book and Seonghwa just lazing beside him. Hongjoong knows he should take a shower, there’s probably still plant material in his hair and clothes and on his skin, but he’s also tired and wants to spend a few minutes with Seonghwa and Yeosang.
So, naturally, he kicks off his shoes, locks the door and flops down on the couch beside Seonghwa.
Seonghwa, who doesn’t push him off the couch and tell him to clean up first.
Seonghwa, who shoves his face into Hongjoong’s neck after he’s been seated for barely a moment.
Seonghwa, who inhales deeply and scooches closer, his knees knocking against Hongjoong’s thigh in his haste to close the distance between them.
“...Seonghwa?” Hongjoong withdraws a bit, putting a little more distance between them, and Seonghwa whines, latching onto him to prevent him from retreating any further. Soon the half-dragon is pressed even further into his personal space, one knee resting on Hongjoong’s legs and his face buried under his chin.
Yeosang is staring at Seonghwa like he’s grown a second head, and Hongjoong’s sure that expression is mirrored on his own face. While Seonghwa was someone fond of physical contact, he was never like this. That contact was often initiated by others and Seonghwa usually just went along with it, providing a nice, warm cuddle to whoever wanted one.
Speaking of warm…
“Get off of me, it’s too hot for this,” Hongjoong grumbles, but his words turn into a screech when he feels something wet against his neck. “Did you just lick me?!”
In answer, Seonghwa nuzzles him, kind of snuffling at his neck and not saying a word. He’s still clinging to Hongjoong like he thinks he’s going to try to run away, grip tight on Hongjoong’s shoulder and shirt.
It would be cute, except it’s entirely strange and out of character for the most part. And Seonghwa’s fingers will probably leave bruises on Hongjoong’s shoulder, from how tightly he’s clinging to him.
“Hongjoong! You’re back!”
Hongjoong looks up at Mingi, who’s standing in the doorway with San beside him. “Please get him off of me.”
“Just tell him to get up,” San retorts. The brat doesn’t even bother to glance over and see how Seonghwa is lapping at the skin of Hongjoong’s throat, utterly content and more than a little drooly. If Hongjoong wasn’t restrained by a cuddly, drooling dragon, he might have shook San by his shoulders. Or throttled him.
“Do you think I haven’t tried that? He won’t.”
“He won’t,” Yeosang puts in.
Mingi and San look at one another and shrug, and then Mingi approaches the couch. “Hey, Seonghwa? Maybe you should get off of Hongjoong now,” he suggests, and reaches toward the dragon. “Here, let’s—”
Seonghwa snaps upright and snarls, sharp teeth snapping together too close to Mingi’s throat for comfort. Startled, Mingi reels backward, tripping on his own feet and falling on the floor. In the doorway, all the blood has drained from San’s face, and Yeosang is staring at Seonghwa in curious intrigue.
Seonghwa tucks himself back against Hongjoong, calm once again.
“...Uh, you’re on your own,” Mingi decides, and he and San flee the scene. Hongjoong’s too busy trying to figure out what just happened to answer.
Eventually deciding that the what isn’t important, he slaps Seonghwa on the back of the head. “You could have killed Mingi, you idiot,” he seethes. “The hell’s with you?”
“I may have an answer to that.”
Hongjoong’s attention snaps to Yeosang. “Then please, tell me what the fuck is wrong with Seonghwa.”
“Technically, it’s you.” Yeosang fearlessly leans over Seonghwa and plucks a leaf off of Hongjoong’s shirt, stopping to scratch him under the chin. Hongjoong jolts when Seonghwa purrs and leans into the hand until Yeosang withdraws. Then he tucks himself back against Hongjoong.
“What do you mean, it’s me? I didn’t do anything!”
Yeosang waves the leaf in the air. “You see this stuff? This is dragonmint, also known as dragon-nip. It’s potent even in small quantities and you look like you’ve been rolling around in it.”
“Well… that might be because I had to fight someone in a patch of it,” Hongjoong sighs. “I didn’t know it was dragonmint. I didn’t even know that was a thing.”
“Now you know,” Yeosang drawls, as flames lick over his fingers and the leaf burns to ashes.
“So…” Hongjoong trails off as Seonghwa starts moving around again, settling himself so that both of his knees are now in Hongjoong’s lap and he’s squeezed in even tighter. The dragon nuzzles at him and Hongjoong awkwardly reaches up to carefully rub under his chin.
Seonghwa starts purring again, pushing further into Hongjoong’s lap. Yeosang’s barely containing his laughter while Hongjoong is on the verge of having a mental breakdown. There’s a cuddly-hostile dragon in his lap, he’s covered in dragonmint, and he’s fairly certain Seonghwa will murder him in the morning if he remembers this, but he squeaks out, “Good… dragon?”
Seonghwa just purrs more.
Yeosang’s laughing into his hand now, getting way too much of a kick out of Hongjoong’s misery.
“This isn’t funny,” Hongjoong wheezes. By this time, Seonghwa’s completely in his lap and squirming around, trying to make himself comfortable and in the process elbowing Hongjoong in the gut. “Little help?”
Yeosang just shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t want my throat being ripped out, Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong groans and lets his head drop against the back of the couch. “How long is he going to be like this?”
Yeosang’s all-too cheerful as he gets up and replies, “Let’s just say you’ll have a lapful of dragon for a while. Good night, Hongjoong.”
With that, he leaves, and Hongjoong’s alone with the purring dragon on his lap, pressing his chin into his fingers insistently. Hongjoong sighs through his nose and gently scratches Seonghwa’s jawline. He feels a bit ridiculous, sitting on the couch covered in an apparently dragon-addictive plant with Seonghwa curled up in his lap and purring like an oversized cat.
Seonghwa’s tongue drags rough along the underside of Hongjoong’s jaw and he screeches. “Don’t--!”
The dragon ignores him and continues to lick him, craning to lick up the side of Hongjoong’s face. The warm, rough wet drag over his temple makes him sigh, resigned to his fate as a… He doesn’t even know what this makes him. Honestly, he doesn’t really want to know, either.
(A voice in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like Jongho labels him a chewtoy. Hongjoong chooses to ignore that voice.)
Seonghwa, thankfully, is not chewing.