A/N: Greetings, readers! This story is a prequel to another story of mine, published in my account should you seek to read it after this:The Dragon Tamer. It was a plotless smut, but I love the characters so here is the story of how they met and things progressed. DO NOT SAY I DID NOT WARN YOU, FOR THIS IS GOING TO RESULT IN BESTIALITY. The characters are alsoBOTH MALE. SO YES, GAY, YAOI, MXM BOYXBOY AND WHATEVER ELSE YOU CALL IT. Those are the warnings. If you dislike either topic, please do not leave messages about how evil it is, because that hurts my feelings and the feelings of readers who like it.

If you are a reader who likes it, please review the following information that is important to the plot. These are things about my fictional world and you will be a little confused it you don't read this part.

Tameíl: The Royal Empire. It is a huge nation ruled by humans, but at the time this is written, they only live in small villages and have a few large cities. They have guns and some tracking equipment (the "technology" referred to). The language they speak is Tameílián, which is basically English, just written differently, and I wrote it like English anyway because this is obviously an English story.

Mankri: The Dragonic Lands. An even more vast land, a continent, really, that is ruled by dragons and of course is the origin of the species. A lot of dragons had migrated to Tameíl at the time of this, so it is not uncommon for them to live there and have not seen their homeland. Some make journeys to see it, though, so it's a toss-up if the dragon you are speaking to has or hasn't been there. Humans have a bunch of weird stories about the "magical land of the dragons~" so they are curious. The language they and all dragons naturally speak is Mankrisch. It is a language of growls, roars, and other sounds only dragons can make. Humans cannot speak or understand it, as dragons cannot speak Tameílián aloud. This is why dragons use telepathy to speak Tameílián into humans' minds. 

That's the important stuff, I guess. There's more details I want to rant about but they won't be important here. If you like this, please read my other stories.

Being a dragon is a whole lot harder than most humans think. They all want to be us – well, all the ones that aren't Hunters – without considering what challenges come with living the kind of life we do. They only see the surface; to them, we are majestic creatures, fighting off those that want to harm us with ease and trying to befriend the humans that let us.

That couldn't be much more foolish. We were once much more powerful than mankind, and we did fight them off with ease, but in recent years, they have found ways to use their new technology in terrible ways. Suddenly, our might is not so valuable, and we are actually experiencing the fear we have not felt for many millennia, since we left the Elvish lands. Not all humans are equipped as the Hunters, though, and though most respect us, all are wary because we are more powerful in direct conflict.

Finding a home in Tameíl is difficult now. There are many small human villages, spread just so that they do not leave adequate spaces between for a dragon to claim his territory. Some more friendly ones will make the humans their subjects and cohabitate with them, but most are solitary, like me, and refuse such. It took me over a year to find my first cave, and after several battles with rivals, I have been forced out of it and three others. The one I am in now is far too close to humans for my taste, but they are more afraid than most, and do not venture very far from their fences.

The worst issue of being a dragon, though, is mating. There are those who prefer frivolous relationships, females who mate with any male they deem strong enough or males who mate with any willing female, but ultimately, all want to find a lifelong partner. It is our kind's curse: we are intelligent and sentient beings who desire much the same things as humans, but at the same time, we are only animals and cannot always resist the urge to fling ourselves into passionate throes. I've mated with many females in my seven hundred years of life, but not once have I found one who I wished to stay with, and they left my territory in only weeks. I once mated with a curious and sweet male, and though the experience was perhaps more interesting than my prior exploits, he was killed a month after our meeting by a clan who found his actions... unfavourable. By sheer luck, I escaped, but it left quite the impression.

There are only two real sins to most of dragonkind: to mate with one of your own sex, and to mate with a human. Things like murder are a common result of territory wars, and the killing of humans is tradition to some. No, mating is the cornerstone of our lives, and it is also the only place where we can truly incite the wrath of our own. Both are undesirable to most, anyway, and only a strange few like the one I met ever committed such transgressions.

No, I never again committed either, and I never thought I would have any desire to do so. In fact, I had not mated with anyone for nearly two decades. It didn't wear on me as it did when I was younger; quite the contrary, I was starting to feel as though I would never need such physical escapades again. But physical aside, I persisted in my search for a lifelong partner, even though steadily less dragons ever inhabited the lands around me.

Humans could not understand these challenges in life, and I didn't think any would ever come close to the mindset of a dragon. With that idea in mind, I never conversed with the ones close to me, except on the rare occasion that a hunter of deer and wildlife wandered too close to me (if a few roars to warn them of their location could ever be called conversing). Those two-legged beasts were fickle and dangerous, prone to random outbursts of hate should they come to find me a threat, and I did not want to incite that belief. Somehow, though they were very much so afraid of me and told their children I would eat them, they never treated me like a real enemy.

But their fear could not touch every individual. Some scholars tried to speak with me for their books' sake, and I told them what I felt was safe for them to know. It was not much, and they, too, left soon enough. Fewer of the village's game hunters sought my advice in the animals of the area and their preferred trails, but with just a few hints from me, they were fine on their own. After half a century at their side, they did not speak to me any more. I was beginning to doubt they ever would again.

Needless to say, it was quite a surprise when a boy, perhaps only seventeen years old (though I had never been good at gauging their ages), came to my cave. It was late at night during a full moon, and I had eaten earlier so as to avoid the agitated wolves. A rustling of leaves outside alerted me to his presence. They were rough footsteps, not the careful kind that may come from a Hunter, so I was not afraid. The clearing was flat and devoid of anything but the large mouth of my home, so whatever human it was would have to come forward.

After several minutes, though, the shuffling had gone quiet and no one was within my view. I was deep in the cave, unable to see much farther than the edge of the mouth, so I pushed myself entirely from the sleep that had almost claimed me and walked out. On the ground, half illuminated from the moon's bright silvery glow, was the boy, laying on his stomach in the grass. His clothes were in tatters, shirt barely still hanging over him, and his dark brown hair was a disaster. I nudged him with a single claw, and he jerked as if I had woken him from some sort of stupor. He glanced up, then quickly averted his eyes, somehow pulling himself up onto his knees and bowing.

"G-great dragon, let me stay on your land tonight," he begged, voice shaking with tears he had likely been withholding for some time. I chose not answer him immediately, looking down on his with curiosity.

I was more experienced in dealing with much more... mature humans, but the boy was perhaps not so much a child as I imagined him to be. It was clear to anything with eyes that he had been through some ordeal, and was perhaps in worse shape than he first seemed. I thought it would be more wise to leave him to die without interfering, but I was not a cruel animal. I could not, in good conscience, let any creature die like this when I could have helped.

"You will stay in my cave beside a fire, human. You look terrible." He looked up, green eyes forming perfect circles in his shock. Was it truly so unimaginable that I would help him? Clearly he bought into his people's tales of fearsome demons too much. Or perhaps he was not used to my form of communication. I couldn't very well speak Mankrisch, could I? The growls of my language would make no sense to him, so I spoke in his mind with the Tameílián my tongue could not actually produce. "But you must tell me what happened to you, or I'll bring you right back outside to freeze."

"O-of course!" It surprised me slightly that he suddenly grinned, and even though his fear was still obviously present, he seemed... excited. Perhaps there is hope, I thought as he struggled to stand, that we might rekindle the adulation mankind once gave us.

My hopes for such a future were somewhat derailed by the boy collapsing against my shoulder. He clearly couldn't stand on his own, legs actually shaking as he attempted to lift himself away, muttering apology after apology. With a huff, I knocked his legs out from under him, only to catch him in my arm and hold him close to myself to keep my balance. "You cannot walk, child. Trying like you are will only get you hurt worse." His voice was quiet and a bit squeaky as he protested the term 'child,' but I ignored him and carried him into the cave. There was no fire at the moment, only logs piled together for the next time I would need them. A single word from me in the tongue of my ancestors' ancestors brought a roaring flame to life.

I sat the child down gently against the cave wall, so that he could at least sit up without too much effort. It seemed that, though his legs were useless, his arms function fine and he used them to lift himself and adjust into a more comfortable position. "You're a shadow dragon, aren't you?" he asked the moment he was settled. I refrained from answering at first, prioritising curling up on the other side of the fire. It impressed me for a moment that he was able to distinguish me from a black dragon, but then I reasoned that it was probably a lucky guess.

"Yes, I am. I am over seven hundred years old, and I am from the southern portion of this land. I have never been to Mankri. Now, the most basic questions are out of the way, so it is your turn to answer the obvious questions I have for you."

I had expected hesitation, but he nodded resolutely and answered instantly. "My name is Soren. I am seventeen years old, and I'm from the village just north of here." He paused, almost like he did not plan on answering my most pressing inquiry, then continued. "I ran away from my father and into the woods, but I got lost. I don't understand how, because I've been out there many times... I almost found my way home, then ran into a bunch of men looking for me before nightfall. I couldn't bare to go home, so I just ran in whatever direction my feet wanted to take me, and I ended up here. It took a lot of running, though, so my legs are kind of..." With a vague gesture toward his lower half, he finished that statement. "I've been out since shortly after noon."

There was much more to be had in that explanation, such as why he ran in the first place or why he was so terribly against returning, but again, I was not a cruel animal, and we had the entire night to talk. Taking care of more immediate concerns was my current focus. I nodded slowly, staring at the fire I had lit thoughtfully, then turned my ruby gaze up to him. "I have more questions for you, boy, but first... You have been running for very long. Are you hungry?"

It must have caught him off guard. He shifted almost nervously, like I had said I was hungry and he was on the menu. "A bit, I suppose."

"Give me a moment. Do not try to run," I added when he threw a wistful gaze toward the exit. I stood and went outside again, picking up in my muzzle a long stick from the pile I'd put there as kindling. The field was always full of scurrying rats, but especially so at night, and it took no effort at all for me to snag one by the tail and cut his small throat. I then took the bled-out rat and an excellent skewering stick back to Soren. He was, at first, confused when I tossed down the two in front of him and went back to my place on the stone floor. "You know how to stick a rat, do you not?"

The question must have shook him from his stupor. Of course he knew how; the humans always taught their children how to do this, at the same time as they learned how to build their own fire and find make-shift shelter. It was the basics of survival for their species. The boy did exactly that, holding it over the fire and spinning ever so slowly. "How did you know that I'd be able to do this?" he asked after a while, eyes twinkling with curiosity even though he did not look directly at me.

"It is common knowledge. I have not spent so many years alongside your kind without learning anything. That would be foolish." He nibbled his lip nervously, taking his time in elaborating on the question as he knew I would request.

"The Elders always tell us that you don't attack us, but that you're also just an animal. They say that you have no respect for us and don't care what we do."

I couldn't help but snort at that, closing my eyes and shaking my head slowly. "I am just an animal, yet I am not as stupid as they want you to think. I would be unwise if I disregarded the civilisation in my territory. You were here before me, and I did not destroy your village when I came. That alone should prove that I have respect of your people." The boy seemed a bit alarmed at the mention of destroying his village, but that was perfectly fine. He could fear me all he wanted, and still the fact would remain that I was not cruel.

"If you can destroy an entire village, then why haven't you killed me?" I opened my eyes again. I had expected nervousness from him, not the bold statement that bordered on accusation.

"Why would I kill you? You are an injured boy who ended up at my cave. Were you in my position, you would act the same as I have." I narrowed my eyes at him, sitting up a little more. "There remains, however, a lack of reason for your presence here. What exactly prompted your escape from your own father?"

There was a long silence, and Soren kept his focus solely on the rat I'd given him. I did not rush him; I had plenty of time, and so did he. Soon enough, though with a heavy sigh, he lowered his head and answered. "He thinks he can keep me under his thumb. Every time I do something even a little wrong, he locks me in my room for a day or two. It's not like he doesn't feed me or anything, but I'm not his pet. He can't keep doing this to me." The boy sighed again, taking the rat away from the fire and picking at the skin. "Maybe this'll show him."

It was foolish of me, really, but I couldn't stop the laugh bubbling up in my throat before it was out. It was more of an intermittent growl, the closest to human laughter I could muster, and it was enough for Soren to figure it out and frown. He was just a pouting child. "Boy, the only thing that will result from this is more time locked up in that room of yours. Running away is never the best way to spite your parents. It will certainly upset him, and then when you inevitably return, he will be infuriated." The boy was still pouting, biting into his current meal with unnecessary force, but he was now more solemn, an air of bitter acceptance around him.

There was no complaint from either of us about the silence that hung over us then. I was content to know why he had run, and though I doubted he was content with anything at the moment, he at least busied himself with eating. It humoured me greatly to learn that he was truly just the impetuous child I had initially thought he was, pulling a typical child's trick and trying to run away from his problems. I admitted some anger at this father who believed his just lock away hisproblems, but it was not something I could very well interfere in. Soren would have to deal with this himself.

"What if I never go back?" he asked suddenly. It was almost the exact question I had expected of him, a continuation of his childish streak.

"Then you will have to find shelter sufficient to live in for a long time, a steady source of food, make tools, clothes, and whatever else you might need..." I did not bother with completing the list for him; his expression already bore his distaste with these ideas. The boy had probably not even learned how to do most of these things, and even if he knew, he was accustomed to the support of an entire village. A mere boy of seventeen could never survive alone in these woods.

He knew it, too. His face made it clear that he was struggling for a solution as well, anything to get out of what he probably imagined was much worse than it truly was. "Would you be so against letting me stay here for a time?"

Once again, I could not control my laughter. I had known he would ask this sooner or later; when someone offers aid once, it is only human nature to ask for more. "Living with a dragon would never end well for you, Soren. However, in the interest of diplomacy, I'll allow you to stay here for a few days." His eyes were instantly alight, and for the first time in several minutes, he looked directly at me. It caught me off guard when a stray thought crossed my mind: He's rather cute, for a human, at least.

"Really? Are you sure that's okay?" I shook the thought away instantly. It was foolish, of course, like the offer I had just given him.

"It is obvious to anyone with eyes that you need a short break from your current life. You will have to return to it, but I see no reason for you to do so right now." Had I just told him it was his birthday, it would have brought about the same reaction. He looked as if he was about to start dancing for joy, grinning brilliantly and full of excitement. Was it really so fantastic to be stuck with me for a few days? I had been told on several occasions that I wasn't particularly good company.

It came as quite the surprise when he suddenly sat up and started moving toward me. His legs were not quite working yet, and he was more so crawling than walking. I entertained the idea of backing away from his advances for a moment, but then decided against it; the boy was still injured and had no weapon. He would be lucky to dislodge a single scale.

He pulled up beside me as I rose my head, and it proved to be little more than an invitation. His lanky arms wrapped firmly around my neck, fingers barely touching on the other side. All motion froze instantly; I was afraid to move away so quickly that he might fall, but equally afraid to allow myself to be comfortable in the embrace.

"Do dragons hug?" he asked softly, breath tickling my scales lightly. It was a strange feeling to be so close to anyone else.

"No. But then, it would be difficult for two of us to hug." In that moment, I resigned myself to my fate, leaning down and nuzzling his shoulder lightly. "However, I'm not entirely adverse to it."

He giggled like a child, nodding and tightening his grip. On any normal night, I would have decided that this hug had gone on far too long. But tonight was not a normal night, and so I allowed him to stay by my side.

Glancing around, I saw that he had finished what was edible from that rat, and the fire was already dying down some. With a whispered spell I extinguished what remained of it, and darkness engulfed the cave. "It is time to sleep, child," I informed him softly. "If you are to stay with me, you'll be coming along on the hunt and carrying back your own meals."

"I'll try to be as much as help as I can," he responded instantly, sounding tired yet cheery as ever. It amused me that he could be so full of such conflicting emotions. After just a moment longer, another second to drag it out, he pulled away from my, curling up only a short distance away and closing his eyes. I did the same, all too eager for a little rest after this unexpected interruption of my average evening. I had to admit, however begrudgingly, that it wasn't unwelcome. A little unrest in my everyday life was what kept me going, and Soren proved to be excellent company.

Speaking of the boy, he was shivering. Even if I hadn't closed my eyes, I would still have been able to hear the softest sound of his teeth just barely clicking together. I peered at him curiously, finding his eyes clenched as tightly shut as possible and his legs pulled securely against his chest. He looked as if he was trying to force sleep upon himself, and was obviously failing.

My chuckle, a grumbling sound deep in my throat, brought his attention to me. I lifted my wing and extended it, letting the cold air touch my side only long enough to invite him. "Come, boy. You won't get any sleep if you keep shivering like that." He might have hesitated for a moment, but it was not very noticeable, and he crawled promptly over. Even as sociable as he was, I had expected him to remain somewhat awkward; just to prove me wrong, he laid almost exactly parallel to me, pressing himself tightly against me like I was his father. With yet another soft sound of amusement, I wrapped the wing around him and held him close.

He had been cold at first, but after only a few minutes he became very warm. It wasn't overwhelming, though; it was a very comfortable warmth that brought me more comfort that I was willing to admit to feeling. I was even less willing to admit that I most likely fell asleep first, officially surrendering my guard for this human's sake.

By morning light I was already wide awake, but I let Soren sleep in a little. I was in no hurry to go out and face the sun, and he needed his rest after the events of the night prior. Asleep and without his many expressions of childish glee, he seemed a good bit more mature. At seventeen, he was on the cusp of adulthood, and it showed in his appearance. The thought changed my view of him a bit, forcing me to reason that I must give him a little more respect, trust in his opinion a little more. But I still held him close to me with my wing, like a child that needed to be coddled, and he certainly cuddled against me as if he enjoyed the contact.

It was perhaps three hours into the day when he roused himself from the world of dreams, only a few minutes before I would have done it myself. He didn't wake immediately, but instead just shifted a bit as his breathing changed pace. It was the only indicator I needed, and I nuzzled his exposed hair lightly.

"I know you're awake, Soren. It's rather late in the morning." He only groaned at me, latching onto my shoulder to pull himself closer, clenching his eyes in an attempt to keep the day away. Time did not oblige, remaining firmly lodged in the early hours, and he was eventually forced to open his eyes. Green orbs stared at me like I was to blame. It was nothing I had not expected, and I only grinned at him, idly thinking that it was good my fangs did not alarm his as they did most humans. It took him a few moments, but he slowly obliged in grinning back. "Good morning, Soren."

"Good morning, uh..." Then the smile was gone, replaced a bewildered and questioning gaze. "You never told me your name."

"You could not say my name. It is in Mankrisch, and I was never given a Tameílián name." He frowned bitterly as he sat up, clutching my wing to keep himself covered even as I tried to pull it away.

"Then how am I supposed to refer to you? I can't just call you 'that dragon' all the time."

I turned my head upward, looking at the ceiling for a moment. "I have never been particularly good at naming. I will allow you to give me a name, so long as it is not ridiculous." When I looked back at him again, his eyes were alight. It was so easy to make him happy and then upset again; his emotions were certainly built on sand rather than stone.

"Well, how about Blacky?" I simply narrowed my own eyes at him, shaking my head when he started laughing uncontrollably. "I guess that one's a little too goofy. Then... What about Draco?" For a moment, I thought he was still joking, but both his tone and expression were actually serious. I considered the name. It was a bit straight-forward, and a very common name for dragons back when they had Tamers. So common, in fact, that I was forced to give this opinion to him. "I know, but it's very majestic, and now it's considered a traditional name. You're seven hundred years old, so you were around then, right?" I nodded slowly. "Then it's perfect!"

I didn't feel that it completely fit me, much like one does not feel comfortable with a nickname at first. I was going to tell him no, that he needed to keep trying, but... It was extraordinarily difficult to crush his hopes with that huge smile on his face, so obviously proud of himself and his great work. With a heavy sigh, I consented. "It is a very common name, but my true name is equally so. I suppose it will have to do."

"See? I knew you'd love it!" Though love was a strong word and I rolled my eyes at it, he finally stood and released my wing to stretch and look outside. "Let's get going, then, Draco! There's breakfast to be had!"

Walking through the woods at his pace was difficult for a creature my size, but I managed, and we were surprisingly successful in the hunt. While I ate a deer on the spot, ignoring his disgusted complaints at the smell, he went ahead and started hauling the one I had killed for him back. He failed to take it even half the distance before his legs gave out, and I had to carry it back myself.

It was only at the mouth of the cave that he realised he had nothing to butcher the animal with. I told him to fashion a knife from the softer stones around, listening to his whining for only a few minutes before I went back inside and left him to his own devices. When I returned only a few minutes later, certain that I'd have to help him again, he was using the husk of one of my talons that I had shed a week ago. It was too wide and curved to be used as a proper knife, but to my surprise, he did so with relative ease. Instead of interfering or even making my presence known, I curled up just where dirt began to cover stone, the mark of entrance into my home, and watched.

He must have been able to feel my stare; it was not gentle, nor did I make any effort to make it so. There were nervous glanced thrown over his shoulder, wary and uncertain, yet he refrained from any show of fear or intolerance. It was strange. Were I to stare at any other human in this way, a simple watchful gaze that they seemed to take as hunger or the look of a predator stalking his prey, they would grow angry or run away. Soren was certainly unique in that respect. He took everything I did, no matter how strange to him or his species, in stride.

"Am I unsettling to you?" I asked him after another half-glance. He jumped at my questioning, the piece of meat he'd been adding to his pile that rested on a large leaf almost falling from its make-shift tray.

"A little, but I don't think you mean it badly." He finally met my gaze solidly, smiling a little, and it seemed surprisingly unforced. "You're just old and wise, so when you look at younglings like us, we don't know what to do with all that knowledge in your eyes."

I rose my head a little, scrunching my nose ever so slightly (an equivalent gesture, I believe, to humans furrowing their brows). The statement... was alarmingly accurate. It had not occurred to me in that exact way before, but upon reconsideration, it fit perfectly. To think that a child, merely seventeen years old where I was seven hundred, could figure out what I could not.

But I didn't let him see my shock at his grasp of the situation that I had thought beyond him. Instead, I looked away, closing my eyes and turning up my nose childishly. "I am not old, Soren, and you'd be wise to remember it. For a dragon, I am still very much in my youth."

He laughed at me. "And you talk like an old geezer!"

The seriousness of the conversation was gone, with me spending half an hour in an attempt to defend my juvenescence. The wasted time was okay with me, though. It was the first time in many years that I had truly relaxed with another being, and it felt good to laugh again. I doubted that I would ever admit it to Soren, but it felt equally good being in his company.