Jongin knows he’s being watched, feels the eyes on his back as he gulps in several deep breaths.  There’s a light breeze that caresses over his sweat slick skin, shirt abandoned hours earlier in the heat of the day.  It doesn’t help that the dragon is flying high above the clouds so there’s no cover.  The green barrier of bushes and flowers around him serve as a maze, easy to get lost in if he isn’t paying attention.  Of course, he’s had ample opportunity to learn the twists and curves in this ingenious trap.  He’s still not entirely sure how there’s a flourishing garden resting at the base of a great dragon’s neck, but he’s dealing with magic and there’s no point in asking a question when the answer will probably confuse him further.

 

A surge from his side and he’s rolling, tucking his head down and landing in a crouch,  The blade of Wufan’s sword is perilously close to his nose and he growls over his third loss of the day.  He knows Wufan is the best swordsman here - and his reputation was legendary back at the training school - but that doesn’t mean he’s going to roll over so easily.  He wants to win.  And he knows he can if he used his magic, but he doesn’t.  They wouldn’t be on even footing and he wants to win against Wufan fair and square.

 

Despite his wounded pride, he’s not a sore loser and he accepts Wufan’s offered arm, letting the other man carry the brunt of his weight as he hauls him to his feet.  “You’re getting much better,” Wufan praises and Jongin swallows down his parched throat.

 

“Not good enough.”

 

Wufan’s lips quirk up in a knowing smile and he winks at him.  “It won’t be long before we’ll be on even footing.”

 

There’s no time for the surprise of Wufan’s words to hit him because Sehun is now by his side and running delicate fingers over the scrape cutting down Jongin’s chest.  He’d forgotten about it until now and it stings and he shoots Sehun a warning glance to not get too close.  Although he immediately regrets it when his Sorcerer pulls away with a muttered apology and hops back a step.

 

“I didn’t mean for you to go,” he says and Sehun’s eyes are wide and bright.  An all too familiar pang of desperate need wraps tight around Jongin’s neck and he encircles Sehun’s thin waist in his arms to pull him close.  Their noses bump and he hears Sehun’s gasp, prompting a smile to blossom across his face.

 

“Again!” bellows the voice of the Swordmaster and it takes a great amount of force for Jongin to pry away from Sehun.  They’ve been bonded only a few weeks and already he’s forgetting ever having a life other than to keep the boy safe.  Sehun is a fresh breeze on a spring day, a flickering light in the dead of night and Jongin’s never wanted someone so much in the entirety of his nineteen years.  It’s frightening.

 

 

 

 

Water spills into the basin, splashing as Sehun wrings the excess from the rag.  Jongin doesn’t need to turn around to know Sehun is now wiping down his face because his voice is muffled.  “Tell me more about your school.”

 

There’s an inflection in Sehun’s voice, catching on the word ‘school’ with a pause just before and Jongin instantly knows what he means.  Sehun has been inquiring about his upbringing and training with never ending curiosity, but he’s spied the eager twitch of his mouth and fidgeting fingers when he brings up anything about the outside world.  As a magic user, his life has been spent gazing down at the world with a view many will never have the privilege of seeing.  But Jongin’s experiences are much different.

 

Jongin makes to turn around so he can look at Sehun, but he’s stopped by an embarrassed squeak and the basin nearly toppling over.  So he sighs and keeps his back to Sehun as he bathes.  The very idea of the boy being right there for his taking and mostly unclothed sends his mind into a clouded fog of desire.  With balled fists, he pushes it aside and orients his eyes on the far wall.

 

Sehun clears his throat awkwardly before speaking.  “You told me there was a village?”

 

Of course Sehun would remember the brief mention of something as trivial as that.  Whilst Jongin had been boasting of winning foot races down dirt paths and through teeming forests, Sehun chose to fixate on the mundane.  “A small one, yes.  We used to go down to visit the traders before sunset, sneaking out the back tunnels of the castle.  We never had anything to barter with except the small figures we would carve from wood, but it was fun to look.”

 

“What kinds of things did they have?”  There’s excitement in Sehun’s voice and Jongin wishes he could see it on his face.

 

“All kinds of things - beaded bracelets and necklaces of every color, cloth so soft you’d think it was enchanted, perfumes that smell as sweet as honey and trinkets of gold and silver.”  He hears the rustling of fabric and turns to see Sehun adjusting his tunic before noticing Jongin’s watching.  A faint blush races across pale cheeks and Jongin feels his heart slamming in his chest.

 

He knows he’s all but devouring Sehun with his eyes, but the boy is returning the same look and Jongin’s moving forward before his brain catches up with his feet.  With wide eyes, Sehun backs into the wall and Jongin cages him in with muscled arms on either side of his head.  When Sehun’s hands land on his chest he’s expecting to be pushed back and confusion takes hold when that’s not what happens.  The warmth of his palms is searing and the touch is addicting and Jongin presses himself into them until he feels the dig of Sehun’s nails through his shirt.

 

Jongin breathes in everything Sehun exhales, staring into dark eyes that mirror his own hungry gaze.  It’d be so easy to lean in and capture his lips, to kiss and until he’s had his fill.  But then he thinks he’ll never have enough of Sehun.  He looks so frail this close - with blue veins running under pale skin and a sprinkling of freckles dotted over his cheeks and neck.  A tongue peeks out to swipe nervously along his pink lips and Jongin audibly groans at the sight.

 

With his head halfway to Sehun’s mouth, Jongin’s fear finally catches up with him and instead of taking those lips with his own, he burrows his face in the Sorcerer’s neck and sighs.  He doesn’t want to screw this up - he can’t screw this up.  A lesson that’s ingrained in every Guardian is to think with a clear head before acting - don’t jump into something that can cause harm to your Sorcerer.  And if Jongin succumbs to his feelings and a rift opens between them, he can’t protect him.  Not completely.

 

Skinny arms wrap around him and Jongin slumps down, nuzzling against soft skin and squeezing his eyes closed.  Sehun is the hardest test of self control he’s ever had.

 

 

 

 

When Jongin reaches out, Sehun leans in without hesitation.  They slot together like puzzle pieces whittled to fit only with each other.  There are no sharp edges to smooth down or splinters that catch.  It’s Jongin and Sehun and the rest of the world just isn’t that important anymore.

 

They walk to the table together, plates in hand as they sit with the others for dinner.  Sehun is barely awake, already listing against Jongin’s side after they settle down.  Instinctively, he reaches an arm around Sehun’s waist to clutch him closer and keep him balanced on the bench so he doesn’t fall.  Sehun wriggles a little further into his arm and lets out a soft hum before digging into his food with as much energy as he can muster after a full day of training.

 

Jongin glances up to catch Luhan staring over at them with an unfamiliar look on his face while Joonmyun wiggles his eyebrows at them suggestively.  He’s thankful Sehun isn’t paying enough attention to their surroundings to notice either of them.  A soft sigh escapes Sehun a minute later and Jongin looks down to find him asleep, face almost hidden in blue robes and hand mushed in his mashed potatoes.  He can’t help but smile fondly at him.

 

After diligently cleaning the food off his fingers, Jongin carefully cradles Sehun in his arms and stands.  He nods at the others to wish them a good night before making his way out.  As soon as he’s out of sight, Jongin pools his magic and teleports to their room.  Sehun is barely on top of the bed before he’s reaching out in his sleep to pull Jongin back to him.  And what can he do other than give in?  Jongin crawls in bed beside Sehun and rolls the blanket over them.  He falls asleep with Sehun curled into his side and fingers clutching at his shirt.

 

 

 

 

“You seem tense.”

 

Considering his current predicament, tense is probably an accurate term although Jongin doesn’t think Wufan is discussing his posture.  It’s taking all his upper body strength to keep Wufan’s blade from descending any lower and forcing his own sword into the bare skin of his shoulder.  Of course he’s tense.  What Wufan seems to be commenting on - far more casually than Jongin’s pride wants to admit - is his brash tone and almost stiff demeanor when he’s not busy training.

 

Digging his heel into the dirt, he gains enough leverage to heave upward and force Wufan back a couple of steps.  He’s panting from the exertion and his biceps are burning and Wufan barely looks ruffled.  “Tense,” he spits out, holding his weapon up again in a defensive position.

 

“I take back tense,” Wufan says before lunging and Jongin barely gets his worn out arms to respond and swing the blow off to the side.  “Pissy is more fitting.”

 

Jongin huffs and takes up an offensive stance, hoping to do some damage, but it’s a lost cause.  He loses the will to fight halfway, his arcing sword coming down into the dirt.  Wufan could have stood there and let him concede, but he doesn’t.  With a sweep of one long leg, he knocks Jongin on his .  Jongin hits the ground with a grunt and glares up at his attacker and newly made friend.

 

“It’s throwing off your swing.  You’re sloppy and your footwork is a mess.”  Wufan sounds like the Swordmaster and Jongin shakes his head as he slowly picks himself out of the dirt.  Wufan’s hand lands on his shoulder to stop him as he tries to walk passed.  “Whatever’s going on, you need to work it out.”  Jongin shrugs the appendage away and keeps walking.  “At least talk to Sehun about it?”

 

Jongin stops in his tracks and a heavy sigh slips through his lips.

 

“Or is Sehun the problem?”

 

Wufan’s close again and Jongin turns in resignation.  “Have you and Luhan ever . . .”  Jongin cuts himself off and gestures with his free hand pathetically for the moment.  “Do you two . . . “  Another sigh and he’s wishing he was more articulate than this.  “Is there anything romantic between you and Luhan?”

 

The way Wufan eyes Jongin is too knowing and he takes a step back defensively.  “We’re taught to use our heads, not our hearts.”  And now he sounds like a walking book.

 

“I know what we’re taught.  But what about all those tales of adventure and magic and love we hear in school?”

 

“Stories.  They glorify everything in writing and even if they were based in some reality long ago, they’re not real anymore.”

 

Jongin kicks at the dirt, scuffing up a small cloud of dust.  “Fine, nothing out of line for you two then,” he grumbles.  “That’s great.  Keep up the good fight.”  With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jongin plods away in defeat.  He understands that feelings above that of a protective nature toward a Sorcerer are seen as a hindrance and looked down upon.  And he knows that few bonded pairs actually make it through unscathed when they cross the line, but Sehun is a living, breathing vessel of everything Jongin wants in the world.  And his heart aches.

 

“I’m actually surprised you haven’t taken Sehun as your own yet,” Wufan’s voice calls out and Jongin stops in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder.  There’s a smirk on Wufan’s lips and it confuses him more.  “Yes, trifling with love is frowned upon in a pair, but you two are something else.  It’s obvious to everyone how much you both need each other - something stronger than just a bond.  Maybe it has something to do with your magic.”  Wufan shrugs.  “And maybe not.  But if I were you, I’d grab him and never let go.”

 

This time it’s Wufan walking ahead and Jongin left standing behind.

 

 

 

 

Wufan’s words don’t fall on deaf ears.  Jongin and Sehun’s bond is different and perhaps that’s the reason why the attraction is so overwhelming.  Even the High Sorcerers with all their infinite knowledge haven’t been able to shed light on his ability.  It’s not strictly magic in the sense that he can mold it to what he wills like a Sorcerer can.  Jongin is more of a one trick pony; summoning the magic in him to take him and anything he wants (within reason) to another location so long as it’s not too far away.  There are limitations - something he learned quickly after his magic manifested.  They’ve dubbed it a talent and the red robed magic users like to keep an eye on him.

 

They’re outside near the edge of the barrier, Sehun with his eyes trained on the ground as it grows ever closer and Jongin captivated by Sehun.  This is the first time the dragon has flown down to drink since Jongin’s been here and Sehun is more excited about it than he is.  It’s endearing the way his eyes narrow into crescents and still manage to reflect the moonlight because it’s well past dark.  The smile on his face is alluring and Jongin mimics it out of the sheer need to do anything to bring them closer.

 

Sehun presses his hands against the invisible barrier and then his face, bouncing on the balls of his feet in elation when the dragon dips low enough to open her jaws and scoop up a gulp of water from the large lake.  Jongin doesn’t recognize the location, but the trees and small lights from houses in the distance all blur passed too quickly for him to get a good look.  It’s not as interesting as when she’d eaten, maneuvering around the sky flawlessly to swallow down an entire flock of birds mid-flight.

 

“Did you see?”

 

And Sehun is still beaming, smiling so wide it looks like his face is going to crack.  Jongin wonders what he would do if he kissed him right now.  He wonders more what the red robed figure in the window looking down at them would do.  His heart beats loud and the blood rushes in his ears and Jongin hooks his fingers with Sehun’s, swinging them back and forth.

 

“It was breathtaking.”

 

Maybe tomorrow he’ll cross the line, or possibly the next day. But right now, he wants Sehun to stay just the way he is.

 

 

 

 

Jongin is used to getting out of bed just after sunrise, but now that he’s with Sehun, the task is more difficult to accomplish with each passing morning.  Sehun is almost like a leech when he sleeps, body wound tight around Jongin’s and fingers tangled in clothing or hair.  He sleeps with his lips parted and hair in his eyes and Jongin watches in wonder as the boy slowly wakes, yawning and stretching with arms over his head.  The sudden loss of body heat makes Jongin shiver and he begrudgingly rolls out of bed to dunk his face in the basin of water.

 

It’s freezing and water trails down his neck and chest, forcing the grogginess out of him in one fell swoop.  He doesn’t watch as Sehun stumbles out of the sheets, nearly falling like every morning.  The idea of having to rush over and catch him when he’s sluggish and warm and mumbling memorized incantations under his breath is a little too much.  The cowlick sticking up near the back of his head is unbearably adorable and Jongin wets his hands.  When Sehun approaches, eyes still unfocused and feet dragging along the stone, Jongin runs his fingers through the boy’s tangled strands to fix it along with all the other flyaways.  Sehun tilts into the touch, shoulders drooping and a smile picking at the corners of his lips.  If this were evening, Jongin would scratch his nails over his scalp and lull him to sleep, but it’s not evening.  It’s morning and that means it’s time for them to hurry down for breakfast.  If Sehun doesn’t eat, he’s worn out well before lunch.

 

It takes Jongin prodding Sehun’s mouth several times with the fork before he takes over with a grumble and feeds himself.  Jongin deliberately refuses to meet Wufan’s gaze from across the table, choosing to focus on his food and the heat of Sehun’s body next to him.  It tickles against his arm and distracts him in the best and worst ways.  There’s never really much conversation in the mornings and Jongin’s thankful for it.  His throat feels tight and his brain is playing reruns of the previous day’s lessons so he doesn’t screw up later.

 

The bells ring and Sehun doesn’t need help out of his seat now that he’s eaten and awake.  Long halls that all look the same are still intimidating to Jongin who follows Sehun to keep from getting lost.  With one hand clutching the back of Sehun’s robes, Jongin tries to memorize the turns, losing track after the first half a dozen.  There’s just too many.  The small room they end up in is cozy, sky blue pillows on the floor to sit on and large tapestries of peaceful scenery along the walls.  Jongin prefers the one of the beach, waves lazily lapping against the shore and the small hermit crab that moves only a few centimeters a day as he valiantly treks along the bottom.  Sehun seems to understand his preference and they take the spot in front of it.

 

It’s not long before the others trickle in, this class being one every bonded pair has to take first thing.  The purpose is to strengthen the connection between them and usually it consists of silent stretches as they hold hands or close their eyes and try visualize their bond.  Jongin finds it all a bit ridiculous, but Sehun is enthusiastic so he endures with a smile even if these sessions always leave him feeling drained.

 

“Palms together,” the professor instructs, a tiny old sorceress with wrinkles around her eyes and white hair that never seems to stay in the bun at the base of her neck.  Her voice is soothing and it’s easy to let his shoulders drop, crossing his legs and facing Sehun so they can press their palms against each other.

 

There’s an itch under his skin where they touch, crawling down his arms and Jongin shudders.  His eyes settle on Sehun’s throat, watching it work as he swallows down.  Jongin’s almost too afraid to look at his face, scared of what he might find.  On more than one occasion he’s nearly pushed Sehun back into the pillows and taken him in front of everyone and that knowledge keeps him grounded.

 

Wufan is on his left and Jongin feels his eyes on him, glancing over every now and then.  Jongin shrugs off the distraction and focuses on Sehun.  He watches the up and down of his chest, subconsciously changing his own breathing to match.

 

The light touch of a hand lands on his shoulder and Jongin jumps a little.  “Lift your eyes,” the professor tells him in a soft whisper and Jongin obeys.

 

The effect is instant.  Jongin is falling, his stomach twisted and heart fluttering.  Sehun’s eyes are fathomless, drawing him in until there’s nothing left to give.  It’s too easy to get lost in their depths, a roiling storm just under the surface and Jongin is floundering to keep his head above water.  Hazey and thick, Jongin tries to cling to the remnants of himself through the magic.  Sehun is overwhelming him.

 

It seems only moments since he’d taken the plunge, but all too soon they’re interrupted.  Their hands are forced apart and Sehun whimpers when the connection is severed.  There’s sweat dripping down both their faces and Jongin feels as if he’s spent an entire day sparring against an army.

 

Sehun is shaking and Jongin steadies him when they stand to head for their next lesson.  “What was that?” Sehun whispers as soon as they’re out of the room and all Jongin can do is shrug.  He has no idea.

 

 

 

 

“Jongin!” Sehun calls, running into the room with rosy cheeks from jogging around the halls to find his Guardian.  “Jongin,” he breathes when he sees said male rinsing the last of the grime off his arms with a dirty rag and murky water.  Jongin’s eyes rake over Sehun, from his messy hair to his scuffed leather shoes and Wufan’s advice rings in his head for the hundredth time since they’d talked.  For nearly a week he’s maintained control, wavering from one end to the other, but right now he feels it all snapping.

 

One simple port and the washcloth falls into the water-filled basin as Jongin appears directly in front of Sehun.  He kicks the door shut and takes Sehun in his arms, relishing the pleasant shudder that runs through his slim frame at the touch.  It feels as if there’s something tangible in the air, floating just out of his grasp and Jongin starts figuring out how simple it all is.  Fighting against the pull between them was the wrong decision.  He should have claimed him the moment he set eyes on him, everyone and everything else be damned.

 

Sehun holds his ground, staring at Jongin with evident anticipation and breathing a little heavier even when the Guardian leans in.  Jongin breathes in Sehun when they kiss, lips sliding together hesitantly before confidence grows and the pressure threatens to knock him back.  It’s Sehun who winds fingers in Jongin’s hair to pull him closer, a needy whine slipping through his parted lips.  Jongin swallows it down along with everything else Sehun is willing to give him.  His head is a murky haze of desire and Jongin is clutching the fabric of Sehun’s robes to pull them off as they stumble across the room toward the bed.

 

Splayed across white sheets with his robes gone, Sehun is beautiful and Jongin feels the magic in the air (quite literally) when he crawls over him to connect their mouths together again.  It tingles in his fingers and spreads through his limbs as he grasps for Sehun’s hand to thread their fingers together.  Sehun digs nails into the back of his hand and gasps into his mouth and Jongin greedily takes it all in.  Wind gusts in from the window - or possibly from Sehun - and Jongin presses closer to the boy underneath him.

 

Magic stirs around them, a connection between their powers and Jongin pulls away to stare down at Sehun with wide eyes.  He senses it in the air even if he can’t see it and it’s obvious Sehun does too.  Wind blows over skin and everything flickers, as if they’re being transported somewhere else and back again over and over.  Sehun clings to him tighter and Jongin accepts this new binding between them easily.  There is no precedent for this, no texts of a Guardian and Sorcerer finding a new bond although there’s never been a Guardian with magic either.  But Jongin knows this is right.  It feels so natural and Sehun arches up against him when a gust threatens to lift them from the bed.

 

Sehun’s lips don’t move, but Jongin clearly hears his name being called in the Sorcerer’s voice.  In a flurry of emotions that Jongin doesn’t recognize as his own, clarity hits.  He hears everything Sehun thinks, feels everything he does and Jongin lets him know in his thoughts.  In a jumble of words and scraped together images and the strong desire holding them together, Sehun conveys to Jongin how pleased he is through their new connection.

 

All Jongin had to do was stop fighting what Sehun had accepted the day they bonded.

 

The wind dies and they’re left in the quiet of the room with only their panting to cut through the silence.  Eyes meet and Sehun lifts as Jongin leans down for a kiss, meeting in the middle.  Sehun writhes beneath him and Jongin almost feels sorry that he will be depriving him of sleep for the night.  Almost.

- - - 
A/N: These first two have been up on LJ for a bit and I decided to post them here too since I plan to write a lot in this verse.