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The elf at Hot Shots Brews and Blues has a secret. San is sure of it. For one, he’s an elf. San knows he’s not supposed to make assumptions based on a being’s magical class, but can anyone blame him? Elves haven’t exactly behaved politely over the years. They also rarely came out of hiding.
But this elf isn’t hiding. It would be hard for him to hide anyway. He’s over six feet tall, and his hair is the brightest shade of red San’s ever seen. San’s eyes narrow as he glares at the elf behind the counter. The shiny, black ears atop his head twitch with irritation. His normally tame tail swishes back and forth beneath his chair.
The elf is smiling at him like he doesn’t have a care in the world. But that just can’t be true. San knows it. San knows the elf has a secret, and he’s going to find out what it is.
***
The walk home from the cafe is rarely an exciting one for the elf known as Mingi. He listens to his books on tape and sips his hard chai latte while trudging along all the same. He smiles as he walks. Why shouldn’t he? It’s a beautiful evening. There’s a barely-there breeze tickling his bare ankles as he sways to the rhythm of the story in his ears. It’s not a song, but it has a certain special rhythm. It’s spellcraft. Wicked spellcraft, at that. Mingi hates the way it sticks to the hair in his ears like infected wax, but he has to learn the words. He has to know what to expect when what he is expecting stops being ‘the expected’ and becomes the ‘previously known as expected’.
His own thoughts leave him dizzy. There’s a crinkling behind him that has a very obvious source, but he’s ignoring it. The cat in the cafe had been watching him for days. He didn’t seem particularly dangerous, though. Just suspicious. And Mingi gets it. He really does. He’s a six-foot-something elf with flaming red hair and black marks all along his arms. It’s a little hard not to be suspicious of a figure like that.
And Mingi likes the cat. He’s a little shorter than the elf, but he holds himself like a mountain lion. His ears and tail are black to match his unruly eyebrows and darker-than-night slit pupils. Mingi hears the cat talk to himself a lot. The poor thing seems lonely. He wants to turn around and say hello, but the cat is treating him like prey, so he doesn’t really want to interrupt the silly thing’s hunt.
So instead of speaking directly to the cat, he laments aloud, “Oh, I’m so hungry. And sleepy. And I’d like to cause some mischief, but I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ll make some love potions when I get home. Maybe I’ll dance by the river in the nude.” An affronted sniff sounds out behind him. Mingi can barely hold in his laughter while he shouts, “Maybe I’ll buy that catskin coat I’ve been eyeing on E-Prey.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” the kitten grumbles. Mingi can practically hear the dear thing’s claws extending.
He really does understand the cat hybrid’s mistrust. Elves could be tricky, selfish things. Mingi knew that well. He had run away from home not long ago to make a life for himself. The choice cost him his family, friends, and—least importantly—a fiancee he hadn’t chosen or wanted.
Mingi stops suddenly to take a deep, trembling breath. Not now. He can’t do it right now. Not in front of the cat. He’s almost home. He just has to hang on.
—reek of the night, and we’re honestly sick to death of it—
The sky feels like it’s slowly sinking down on top of him. The words in his head are getting louder with each thunderous step he takes toward his home.
—want a pitiful freak like you anyway. You probably don’t even know how to cast a proper spell. My mother was right. Your family is full of losers and—
He feels unseasonably warm all of a sudden. This has been happening too much lately. It’s like the stars above are melting from the sky to drip all over him. The burns they leave are invisible to anyone but him, but they’re bright and shiny and achy to the touch. Mingi feels like he’s unrecognizable under the leaky slick of star juice that has stunned him in place. He’s the only one that can see it. He’s the only one that can feel it. His breath comes to a full stop in his chest.
Then comes the spinning.
“Elf! Elf! Hang on. Keep your eyes on me. My tail. You feel that? Soft, right? Feels nice?”
Mingi wants to laugh at the silly cat that he can barely focus on. They look like they have about twelve ears now that the world won’t stop spinning. Green leaves and slippery stars and granite that hurts like hornet stings on his knees. All he can see are kitten ears. All he can feel is fluffy, slippery fur.
He tries to hang on, but the darkness is awfully inviting after a day drenched in too much light that hurts and stings like molten silver. He welcomes it with open arms.
***
The elf smells like coffee grinds and sunscreen. The high-quality stuff too. San thinks the elf must be a dark elf. He knows they’re not as used to the bright and shiny sun of the mainland as most folks are.
He doesn’t normally like the smell of sunscreen, but this stuff smells really good on the elf’s skin. There was this traveling salesman who dropped by the cafe once who was talking about pheromones and artificial scents. They kept talking about how certain scents blended well with certain bodies and that they were masters at determining what scent was best for each person.
San wasn’t sure about it, at the time. He’s quite a mistrustful cat. He knows that he couldn’t stand most of the salves and spritzes the salesman was peddling, so he had a hard time believing in the products the person was trying to sell.
The elf has him convinced. The rich, sticky scent of burnt maple blends with something simple like cedarwood to create something intoxicating where it melts into the slightly flushed skin of the elf in from him.
“Hey…” San whispers, his tail swishing nervously around the elf’s ankle.
But the elf doesn’t budge. He’s been asleep for a while now. San’s beginning to worry that he should’ve taken him to a healer instead of his budget shack in the woods.
His home is cozy, but it leaves a lot to be desired for most folks. He doesn’t really need much, though. He gets his meals from the cafe in town— where his favorite human, Hongjoong, works— and he sleeps and plays in his shack. All he needs is a bedroom, bathroom, and furniture to watch movies on. It’s tight, but it’s doable.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever have kids. Sometimes, he gets the urge. It’s a deep-down urge that feels a little more like an ancestral whisper than an actual logical request.
San wouldn’t even know where to start. His bonsai tree has seen better days. That’s probably not a particularly stellar badge on his chest to suggest he’d be adequate at child-rearing.
“K-kitty?”
The cat narrows its eyes as the elf’s garbled voice brings him back to the present. The stranger’s low tumbleweed of a rasp makes a foreign chirp of a purr drip from San’s lips before he realizes what he’s doing. He’s still doing it. San can’t stop purring. This is so humiliating. Oh God…why is he purring? Why can’t he stop purring?
“Where…am I?”
Glancing across the room with agitation, San tears away from the elf to perch on his chair and stare out the window. He watches rabbits and birds dance along the tree branches in the early morning sunshine. The purr settles to a barely audible rumble in his tummy. His tail feels cold now that the elf isn’t holding it.
San doesn’t look back as he responds, “My shack. You passed out on your walk home. You were talking about doing all sorts of mischief and must’ve gotten so excited about it that you fainted.”
The elf snorts and rolls onto his side. San can see him in the reflection of the window. The elf’s gangly legs hang off of his old, ratty couch. The reflection just barely captures the solemn dip in the elf’s brow as his thoughts and memories come flooding in.
San can’t look away much longer. He scurries up to the top of the chair where he’s sitting to watch Mingi on the couch across from him. The elf looks torn. There are a lot of thoughts whishing about behind his eyes like he has lived a few too many lives and all the happenings from them were coming to hit him at once.
“Do you like coffee?” San’s voice is hesitant. He doesn’t necessarily want the elf to stay in his shack longer than he has to. It’s been a while since San has invited someone here. It’s been exactly two years and one month, to be precise. He doesn’t like to think of that day too often, but sometimes he has to. He straightens up and shakes his head to rid it of the thought. His ears wiggle with the action.
“That’s cute.” The elf on the couch has slightly settled. San squints at him with suspicion. A voice way too low for San’s comfort comments, “The way your ears bounce when you shake your head. It’s really cute.”
“‘M not cute,” San grumbles under his breath. He slides from the top of his chair to pad across the room. One of his ears twitches despite his words. He sighs with annoyance at his own body’s betrayal. Maybe the elf doesn’t know enough about hybrids to understand his body’s response. He certainly hopes so. “Going to grab coffee from the cafe. Want some?”
“Is it close?”
The elf sits up and rubs his head. He makes a move like he’s about to stand up, but his body doesn’t get the memo. Swaying like a skinny palm tree in a hurricane, the elf starts to topple. San curses under his breath while jetting forward to steady the elf in his arms. He’s a strong cat. He does pushups and situps and squats every time he isn’t actively doing something. The elf feels like a baby deer in his arms. So skinny. So fragile. San can’t help but frown.
“I’ll get you a coffee and two sandwiches.” San helps the elf sit back down on the couch. He tries to ignore the heat blossoming in his chest when the elf’s cheek brushes his own. And when the elf tugs his tail a little too hard on accident while he lays back down. His throat clenches nervously while adding on, “And some fruit. You need fruit.”
“I’m not hungry.” The stranger throws an arm over his face to shield his eyes from the sun filtering in through the window. San rushes across the room to pull the curtain closed. He likes the sun a lot. He likes to lay in the puddles of light and nap most days. Today is not most days. The elf looks like he’s going to throw up.
“Doesn’t matter.” San closes all the curtains then comes to kneel beside his visitor. “I can feel your bones when I hold you. You feel like the sparrow I rescued a few springs ago after it flew into my window.”
The elf goes quiet. San stands abruptly to gather his satchel and coins.
“What happened to the sparrow?”
When the elf speaks again, San doesn’t look back at him.
“She died.”
***
Mingi is no sparrow. His limbs are weak, but he knows he’s strong. If he wasn’t strong, he wouldn’t have been able to escape his family. He wouldn’t have lived three days without food and water on his trek across the Dark Shade Hollow to make it here. He would be dead like San’s bird friend.
Mingi is alive.
He keeps trying to stand up while San is gone, but it just doesn’t work. He has been working so hard lately to stay afloat. Long hours, picking up shifts at multiple restaurants in the area. He doesn’t have a traditional education, so it’s not exactly easy to get the fun, easy jobs that other people his age usually have.
All the money he makes goes towards his makeshift housing in a broken-down motel downtown. It’s a pretty bad place. He knows it is. Sometimes, he wonders if he should’ve just stayed home. He feels weak in these moments. He had a massive home. All the food he could want. His clothes were never dirty, and everyone knew his name.
No one knows his name here. He considers it a good thing. He’d rather no one alert his family to his whereabouts in case they decide to come to retrieve what’s theirs.
“Elf?”
The cat is back with multiple bags that hang from both of his arms. Mingi wants to get up to help him carry them, but he still can’t move properly.
“My name is Mingi,” he tries to correct the cat.
“Okay.” The cat lets all of the bags fall to the ground in a semicircle around him. “I’m San.”
Mingi smiles to himself. “I know. I serve you at the cafe, remember?”
Darkness shrouds the room around them while San gathers up his acquired feast. It’s so quiet. Mingi doesn’t even want to swallow too hard for fear that San will hear it and judge him. He sits silently while the cat pulls out a small table that fits over his lap on the couch. On the table, he piles a coffee, a jug of water, some fruit, some veggies, and two sandwiches. The sandwiches are strange. Mingi squints at them warily.
“Liverwurst. High in iron. I know it sounds gross, but I promise it’ll help.”
San tears into a big, flaky croissant dipped in chocolate. Mingi eyes it sadly.
“I got you one of these too. But you have to eat your liverwurst first. You’re too weak. You need to eat.”
“Okay, okay.”
The elf eats quietly. His eyes rarely leave San’s form where he rests in the chair across from the couch Mingi sits on. San had always fascinated Mingi. Cat hybrids were few and far between anymore. If anything, they were usually cooped up with high-level witches as familiars. Mingi had often found himself watching the cat hybrid as he worked. Primarily out of fear. The cat had a tendency to stare at him for long stretches of time with a look that Mingi could only describe as ‘ravenous’.
San isn’t very tall. He holds himself with pride though, which makes up for the lack of inches. His arms are corded with tight muscles. His legs, not so much. Mingi had stolen quick glances when the cat hybrid stretched and exposed his tummy. That was just as muscled as his arms. He looked strong. He looked ready to fight.
Mingi isn’t sure why San is so wary of him. He hadn’t done anything to earn the mistrust. He was just trying to survive, like anybody else.
Lifting the last bite of the barely bearable meat goo sandwich to his lips, Mingi asks, “If you hate me so much, why did you bring me here?”
It’s quiet for almost a minute while San ponders the question. His ears are flattened to his head as he gnaws on a chunk of salmon. There’s a strange growly, purring sound accompanying his less-than-cute assault on the fish.
His pink-specked mouth moves quickly. “Don’t hate you.”
Mingi swallows a grape and cocks his head. “Really? You watch me like I’m prey. I don’t know what I did, but you look like you want me dead most of the time.” He pauses and tries to think of why the cat would hate him. Had he done something? Was it just prejudice because he’s an elf? A dark elf, at that? “Have you been hurt by a dark elf?”
He wouldn’t say he’s proud of his lineage. Dark elves weren’t called dark elves because they rarely came out into the light. It was due to the dark magic they practiced. Dark magic wasn’t always bad , per se, but some dark magicians gave the rest of them a bad name.
“You know there are bad light magicians, too, right?”
The cat’s eyes flicker up to his face for a moment. His ears twitch on his head.
“Really bad ones. Really, really…really bad…they’re-they’re-”
The room is tightening around him again. It feels like when a relative that you don’t really like keeps hugging you in greeting–tighter and tighter–the smell of their off-brand perfume choking you with its unfamiliarity.
“None of that, elf!”
Mingi blinks a few times to find the cat hybrid draped across his lap. It’s really strange. This is a full-grown man. Not a cat. But he’s lying across Mingi like a kitten. His chest is puffed out with a pronounced purr that pulls Mingi from his plunging thoughts that he’d rather not think about. San is looking up at him with genuine concern. It’s laced with irritation, but it’s concern all the same.
“Look at me. Pet me. Please. Please .”
The hybrid grabs Mingi’s fingers to direct them into the soft fur of his ears. They’re really soft. So soft. And warm. The fine furs tickle his palms. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. The room starts retreating in its advances. All Mingi can smell is coffee and cream. San smells like the cafe. He smells warm and safe. Mingi wraps a steadying arm around the cat in his lap and keeps running gentle fingers over the soft fur of his ears.
Gentle purring is the backing track to San’s next words. “Don’t hate you. You’re…I don’t know. I don’t know you. And I’m…Hongjoong…”
Mingi’s eyes slide open slowly to take in the hybrid’s hazy features. He looks nervous to speak his next words. He gnaws at his lip while avoiding Mingi’s eyes.
“Hongjoong?” Mingi whispers softly. He thinks back to all the times he had felt particularly harassed by the black cat in his lap.
Hongjoong. Hongjoong.
“Oh, Gods Above and Below—HONGJOONG. You’re protecting him. That makes so much sense. San, I’m not going to hurt him. Why would you think that?”
The cat's ears flatten under Mingi’s fingers again. His brow lowers until he’s glaring up at Mingi. A staticky hiss slips through his lips when Mingi accentuates the word Hongjoong.
Mingi’s lips tilt up. “Does kitty have a crush?”
A louder hiss this time. San scurries away until his back is up against the far arm of the couch they’re on. Narrow eyes and raised hackles greet Mingi’s joking gaze.
“I do, too, to be honest. Isn’t he so handsome? I like his hands. They’re so small, but they’re really strong. One time he grabbed my arm, and his grip was so strong. I felt like I was going to faint.”
San slowly unravels as he listens to Mingi speak. “Really? That strong?”
“Really,” Mingi continues. He scoots closer to San and lowers his voice conspiratorially, “Really really. You don’t have to keep him safe. He could kill me with two fingers, I think.”
“Wish he’d kill me with two fingers,” San rumbles gruffly. The comment makes Mingi actually laugh. Really laugh. His chest feels full of the right kind of light as he watches San’s fluffy ears twitch to and fro.
San cringes and pushes Mingi’s leg with his bare foot. “You laugh too loud!”
“Well, it feels nice to laugh,” Mingi manages to speak through his residual chuckles.
The room feels almost too warm when San’s ears perk back up, and he smiles.
***
“Order up!”
The next day, back at the cafe, San watches Hongjoong behind the counter. His human looks soft today. He’s wearing a massive, beige mockneck sweater that cuts off at his tummy. Under it, there’s a white camisole. San can just barely spy some lace on the stitched parts of the cami. He wonders if it’s the itchy kind of lace or the soft and stretchy kind.
On Hongjoong, he thinks he likes both.
“San! Your order’s ready!”
Hongjoong’s voice is anything but gentle most of the time. He’s a pissed-off, stressed-out, wild-eyed fighter. Gods , San loves him. He wants to lay on his lap and get pets from him all the time. His cat instincts kick in way too strongly around Hongjoong. For everyone’s consideration, it would probably be best if he avoided the cafe.
But the instincts… too strong .
He slinks to the counter lazily and drapes himself over the wooden surface. A lazy grin filthies his features as Hongjoong zeroes in on him. “You look especially delectable today, my human.”
Hongjoong cringes on the outside, but the blush that settles on his puffy cheeks lets San know he’s in. He wiggles closer. The bar between them should be burnt and thrown to the seas for trying to keep them apart.
“How’d your Hex exam go? Are you a master yet?”
The human behind the counter pretends to clean a cup and responds, “Anything but. Another fail. I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
He’s really not. He’s a human. Humans can do hexes as well as cats can befriend mice. San bites his tongue and cocks his head cutely. “Well, I know one spell you’re good at.”
Hongjoong stills. He knows what’s coming. His eyes widen, and his fingers tense on the cup in his hands.
“Love spells. ‘Cause I can’t help falling in love…”
“OUT!” The human shouts, his ears tinged pink and his eyes full of endeared irritation.
San grabs his hot milk for himself and a massive jug of white chocolate mocha for Mingi then bolts for the door.
Next time. We’ll get him next time.
When he arrives back home, the house is empty. It’s just past twilight outside, and his heart plummets to his guts at the sight of his empty couch. He had gotten used to seeing the massive beast of an elf on his furniture. It hurt to see the empty indentation his body left.
San would’ve liked a goodbye. Or a thank you, maybe.
He drops the drink for Mingi on his counter then goes to his chair to perch mournfully.
His pink tongue darts out every so often to sop up hot milk as he watches the branches outside sway in the wind. All the animals must be resting. It’s so quiet out there. Too quiet.
A sudden dark blur in the corner of his vision has his hackles rising and his hot milk spilling all over his face and hands.
“S-San…kitty…me,” a petrified voice calls from the corner of San’s small shack. How he had managed to miss the hulking mammoth of an elf all scrunched up against the floorboards was a mystery. He’s quick to lick the milk off his hands and rush to Mingi’s side. “S-sorry…tripped on my way to the bathroom, and the curtain…”
Above them, the curtain is torn and dangling. San can picture it in his head easily. Big, achy Mingi stumbling about in the dark of the shack to get to the restroom. One misplaced foot led to a tumble, and he grabbed the first thing he could find in his descent.
The sunlight had frightened him enough to keep him stunted in a ball in the corner until San came home.
“Oh, dear,” San whispers to himself while hurrying to Mingi’s aid. He wraps a strong arm around Mingi’s waist, then tugs him over to the couch while chastising, “You have to be more careful. You’re still healing. Can’t believe you…”
He keeps rambling. Mingi is a new addition to his home, but San thinks he wants to keep him. He’s no Hongjoong, but he’s certainly something. He can help San reach items that are too high on his shelves to obtain easily. He’s good at crossword puzzles that San can’t figure out. Mingi smells really good. He naturally smells rich and warm and earthy. San wants to rub up against him to see what their scents smell like together. For science. Just to know.
Mingi looks properly lectured by the time San quiets down and wraps around him. Strong arms, a twitchy tail, and clingy legs hook into Mingi in all the right places to make him stay put. The elf sips his mocha morosely.
“Did you speak with Hongjoong? About me missing my shift?”
San nods. He did manage to get some non-flirtatious words in before fumbling the bag earlier.
“What was he wearing?” Mingi inquires in a giggly whisper.
San forgets he’s mad as he lists off every part of pretty Hongjoong’s attire. He’s mumbling something about the little ruby rhinestones on Hongjoong’s pinky nails when Mingi interrupts him.
“I don’t want to be rude, but why are you here, San? Like…alone? In the woods? I haven’t seen a hybrid in ages.”
The cat tenses up for a moment while eyeing up the elf. “I could ask you the same.” Mingi’s jaw clicks with tension. His eyes shutter completely. “But I won’t because I’m a nice cat.”
“You are,” Mingi agrees with a grin. “The nicest cat. And so handsome too.”
San’s chest puffs up as he nods and continues, “I’m very handsome. And smart. I used to be the smartest hybrid in my clowder.”
“A clowder is a gang of cat hybrids, right?”
“Right,” San nods and affirms. He hums to himself while considering what to tell Mingi. “One by one…my friends found homes. It’s not some weird slavery agreement or anything. Hybrids are conscious beings that make choices on their own. But we do things a little differently. We like the idea of adoption and fostering. It’s something in the cat side of us. We like the red tape. We like the dotted i’s and crossed t’s.”
Mingi nods along as San speaks. He looks completely entranced. There’s some whipped cream on his lip. San’s eye twitches under the stress of really wanting to lick it off.
“I didn’t find a home, I guess,” San finishes, his eyes dull and his fingers tangled up in his lap.
“Why not?”
“I—” San wants to explain the hierarchy of cat hybrids and the complexities of relationships in the modern world to Mingi, but the elf cuts in before he can start another monologue.
“Those people are stupid. Anyone that doesn’t want to spend their life with a cool cat like you is stupid.”
He means it. San can smell it on the elf’s skin as he speaks. He reeks of sincerity and calm. San wants to taste that loyalty on his spiky tongue. His eyes flutter with the beginning prickles of tears. Mingi extends a hand in San’s direction hesitantly. They’re already all wrapped up on the couch, but Mingi is asking permission to do…something. San isn’t exactly sure what, though.
“Um…what would you…do you…”
Stupid cat.
The elf looks up at the ceiling and mumbles, “Can scent me, if you want. I’ve heard it’s nice. For cat hybrids.” His voice is barely audible when he tacks on, “When they’re sad.”
San stares at the big hand in front of him. It’s much bigger than his own hands. Mingi’s fingers are long and thin. Perfect for drawing and loosing a string on a bow. Elegant and powerful. San leans forward slowly to rub his cheek against the massive paw in front of him. His ears twitch excitedly with each firm brush of those gentle, dormant fingers against his flushed cheek. His eyes roll back then flutter closed at the sensation.
There’s something new in his own scent that he barely recognizes. It puffs out of him at times when he’s around his human in the cafe. Even the thought of Hongjoong brings forth this inky, flowery spritz to the surface. A low purr starts to rumble in San’s chest as his cheek skirts down Mingi’s hand, his nose dipping into the elf’s offered wrist. His scent is strong there. San purrs against the skin, his scent wafting against Mingi’s own to create something delicious. Actually delicious. Creamy and floral and rich.
From the corner of his eye, San spies Mingi grabbing a pillow to put on his lap. He takes it as an invitation to get more comfortable. His head flops down onto the cushion while his fingers tug the warm arm down with him. His rough tongue dips out to taste the salty-sweet sheen of Mingi’s musk. It rockets through him like a swift kick of good, unfiltered milk.
“San…” Mingi’s voice is low and rumbly. It makes San snuggle even closer, his head pushing into the cushion beneath him as his lips and nose and fingers play with the soft skin of Mingi’s inner wrist.
Taste so nice. Smells so nice.
His body undulates with excitement. Mingi feels really tense beneath him now. San keeps purring. Rumbling. Humming against the skin under his sharp teeth. His head and body never stop rubbing against the pillow.
Suddenly, Mingi untenses. His limbs fall to his sides, a strange sound dripping out of him like warm melted sugar. It comes from deep in his belly. Like the elf can purr too, but this is something else.
As if waking from a deep sleep, San freezes. He takes in his surroundings. The bright red of Mingi’s cheeks. The thick scent of heat and excitement. The taste of Mingi’s raw sex in the air.
“Oh,” San whispers under his breath, his body rolling slightly so he can look up at the elf.
“Yeah…” Mingi avoids the cat hybrid’s eyes while sliding away until the cat is no longer draped over him. “ Oh is right.”
The room is silent for way too long while San tries to think of what to do next. He swallows hard, his limbs finally starting to get some feeling back. The fuzzy warmth of the room is slowly melting away, and he’s getting his bearings. Mingi hasn’t said a word. He still has the cushion on his lap when he stands on wobbly legs and nods in the direction of the small bathroom.
“Gonna…take a bath, I guess.”
San can only nod, eyes round and jaw unhinged.
He tries to ignore the embarrassed wail the elf releases when the door closes behind him.
***
“Are you sure you’re okay to come back to work?” Hongjoong’s voice is a warm hug on a cold day when Mingi finally makes his way back to work. He’s still a little shaky, but he went to work with a full belly and a happy heart. His coworker’s eyes are dark with concern as he fiddles with Mingi’s collar and breathes hot air on his neck in his impromptu grooming session.
San is back to glaring at him from his table in the corner of the cafe.
Hongjoong’s eyes slide past Mingi to land on the cat. Suddenly, the hybrid is a picture of peace and joy.
“Ya know,” Hongjoong starts slowly, his words soft and comforting, “I thought you two were friends finally. He was really concerned about you the past few days. Kept asking how to heal an elf. I’ve never heard him talk so much. He must really like you.”
Unlikely.
“I dunno.”
His coworker's undivided attention is starting to feel a little like an uncovered flame meeting his flesh, so he pulls away to start putting away clean plates and mugs. Across the room, he can almost feel San relaxing from his hunter’s stance.
“I have a good eye for these things, Mingi. I think you like him too.”
The elf nods and smiles politely but doesn’t respond. He’s not sure how much the hybrid can hear from his seat, and he doesn’t want to make an absolute idiot of himself again.
Not like he could top cumming in his pants over a simple scenting, but Mingi is sure he could think of something.
Life goes on. Naturally. Dirtying his pants and passing out over bright lights aside, Mingi needs to make a living. He still visits San sometimes in his shack in the woods. They have drinks and stare out the window at animals that thrive in the night. Sometimes, San’s tail wraps around Mingi’s wrist without him noticing. It makes something warm and stuffy creep up his chest until his throat feels itchy with joy.
Hongjoong joins them sometimes too. Mingi had gotten brave and asked the magicless magician to join them at their coffee parties. San actually helped Hongjoong with a few of his classes. Despite the fact that he’d never have actual magic, he was getting better at artificially crafting brews and illusions to emulate magic. It was endearing to watch. Mingi loved when magical creatures came together to create something beautiful.
The elf thinks he may want to create something beautiful with San. He thinks about it all the time now. He used to think of Hongjoong that way, but now, those thoughts are scarce and watery.
All Mingi can see is San.
The cat hybrid is gentle. He is strong and resourceful, but he stops traffic when ducklings are trying to cross the road. He picks up shards of glass from broken bottles on sidewalks, so creatures without shoes don’t hurt their feet. San protects Hongjoong well. Mingi still isn’t sure what San feels for the human, but he knows Hongjoong is San’s human.
Mingi is happier than he’s been in years.
It all comes crashing down one night while Hongjoong is closing up the shop. Mingi is laughing at some joke San just told when a purple-booted foot lodges itself in the door that Hongjoong is trying to close.
“Sorry, sorry…would you have time for one more customer? Please. I’ll pay handsomely.”
Mingi’s body ceases to function. His lungs freeze up in his chest. His knees lock then unlock so suddenly that he can scarcely grab the counter in front of him before he’s folding into a messy pretzel on the ground in fear. San drops to the ground with him. His eyes are sharp and wary on Mingi’s frozen form.
Hongjoong glances back at the mess behind the counter and frowns but lets the person in. He isn’t stupid. Mingi knows he isn’t stupid. He won’t let something bad happen. He’s just being polite.
The person who walks through the door is undeniably beautiful. Mingi knows those dark emerald ringlets. He trembles in fear at the sight of the royal purple velvet boots that click their way over to the counter. It’s quite dark in the cafe now. Unless she’s looking very closely, she could miss the duo entangled just below her in the shadows under the counter.
Hongjoong rounds the counter and smiles politely at the unfamiliar elf in dark sunglasses and too much cloying perfume. “How can I help you? Most of our machines are already off and clean for the night, but I could get you something simple.”
The elf narrows her eyes at the human. “I’m not here for a drink. But an iced lavender latte with oatmilk would be grand.”
“That’s not…” His words fade away when the elf removes her dark glasses.
There’s something wrong with the elf’s eyes. They’re too bright. They’re bright in a way that is somehow dark. Mingi knows those eyes well. He knows what she’s capable of.
He tries to hold his breath while she addresses the human behind the counter again.
“I’m looking for a dark elf. Name is Song Mingi. Just over six foot. Bright red hair. Smells like dirt.”
Hongjoong hesitates. San’s ears flatten to his head. His hands brush over Mingi’s cheeks so their eyes can connect. Mingi focuses on the feeling of San’s eyes on him. They’re ferocious. Mingi is San’s elf now. San is very protective of his people.
“He works here sometimes,” Hongjoong answers truthfully. He starts grabbing some ingredients to make the drink for the woman while keeping a sharp eye on her. “Is he in trouble?”
“No,” she replies plainly. Her voice is anything but warm when she adds, “Can’t a mother miss her son?”
The mug in Hongjoong’s hand nearly slips. Mingi can barely breathe. The room around them swims with light despite its actual darkness.
“His fiancee misses him too.”
The mug does slip from Hongjoong’s grasp then.
Sharp shards of ceramic scatter across the floor while Hongjoong turns to address her. “F-fiancee?”
“Yes. She’s quite torn up about his absence. Dark elves are very possessive. She loves him dearly.”
Mingi’s nails dig into his palms. She’s lying. He knows she’s lying. His fiancee hates him. She hates his mother too. His mother hates Mingi too. The weight of her distaste over him feels like battery acid on the back of his tongue.
All he can see is light.
San stands up without warning to glare at Mingi’s mother. “You’re a liar. Mingi doesn’t belong to anyone. He’s free. You don’t own him.”
Penciled-on brows fly to the ceiling as Mingi’s mother rounds on him with that same sharp light dancing along her irises. “And what would a stray like you know about it?”
Hongjoong stomps forward, his small feet crunching through the broken mug below him angrily. “I think you should leave.”
Mingi can feel it in the air before the others see it. He can taste the staticky zing of her magic dancing on the tips of her fingers below the counter. He can’t do this anymore. He can’t keep hiding. He has to help. He has to…
He finally stands up to face her. Just in time for her to raise her hands right in his direction with a wild smile.
“Told you I’d find you.”
His eyes barely register the light before it swallows everything in the room. He feels weak under its rough fingers. Bile pools in the base of his throat with each second of glaring glow that passes. She dirties the light. She makes it bad. It tastes like rotten milk. He hates her.
Suddenly, it’s gone. The light is gone. She is gone. Hongjoong is bent in half on the ground, gagging, and San’s claws are tipped with red.
He wants to ask what happened. He tries to ask. The dark that swallows him up is a beautiful and welcoming friend after the light of his mother nearly destroyed him.
***
San is happy that Hongjoong is holding his hand, but he wishes it was under better circumstances. The human looks scared sick as he brushes Mingi’s bangs from his eyes before applying a cold compress to his head. It’s doused in herbs that San can’t pronounce, but the human seems to trust that they’ll help the elf in his journey back to the living.
His only true strength is located at the tip of his tail, which is clutched in Mingi’s weak grip. It has been for hours. Mingi hasn’t moved an inch since they carried him to a cot in the back of the cafe, but his fingers remained tightly hooked around San’s tail. He’ll allow it. Even if it hurts a bit.
He sniffles as he stares down at his newfound friend. The big elf with a low voice that’s deep but not scary. Like a big cave filled with nice, fluffy bats. San loves bats. He’d love to catch one someday.
He wonders if Mingi loves bats.
“I’m glad you two are friends now. Forgive me for saying so, but you both seem so lonely. I always want to reach out, but I’m not sure how.”
Mingi’s head is in Hongjoong’s pillowy lap as he rests. San is only a little jealous of both of them.
He likes them both well enough now that he can ignore the prey drive their touching revs up in him.
“He smells good,” San mumbles. More to himself than anything.
Hongjoong laughs anyway. He nods while wiping a tear from his own cheek discretely. “He really does. I always want to eat after he gives me a hug.”
San glares at Hongjoong. “He gets to hug you?”
An eyeroll and a flick to the nose precede Hongjoong leaning forward to wrap an awkward arm around San in apology. “His hugs are much better than mine. Sorry to say.”
San doesn’t want to agree, but he fears Hongjoong is right. Mingi is always so warm. He exudes bright heat despite his dark elf status and fear of the light. He has the light in him too. But not in the way his nasty mother did.
“He—he said the people that didn’t adopt me were stupid.”
The hybrid isn’t sure why he’s spilling all of his secrets to Hongjoong like this. He’s supposed to remain suave and mysterious. How else can he woo the little human that looks like he tastes like marshmallows?
Hongjoong nods and smiles down at Mingi’s sleep-slackened face. His fingers brush through the elf’s hair calmly as he listens.
“I think he wanted to stay. He said…he seemed like he wanted to be my elf.”
“Your elf?” Hongjoong cocks his head to grin at San.
“Yes.” San avoids his eyes in lieu of watching Mingi’s chest rise and fall with breath. “Just like you’re my human.”
Hongjoong actually laughs out loud then. “I’m your human, eh?”
San nods, but he doesn’t look up. He can feel the heat of Hongjoong’s stare on his warm cheeks while he watches Mingi.
“You’re such a good kitty, San. Mingi would be lucky to be your elf. Just like I’m lucky to be your human.”
His chest feels like it’s cracking apart. But not in a bad way. San feels like his chest is a frozen lake finally melting under the beautiful sunrays of spring. Looking down at Mingi and hearing Hongjoong’s softly-spoken words makes him feel stronger than ever. His ears dance on his head with excitement.
A gentle purr rumbles in his chest as he lays down beside Mingi and wraps an arm around him. His head settles naturally right on the elf’s chest.
Hongjoong, it seems, has been given two hands by the gods so he can pet San and Mingi at the same time during their times of need.
***
Mingi wakes to the sound of purring and the feeling of strong fingers digging into his scalp. He’s almost tempted to pretend to still be unconscious to soak in the feeling a little longer. But he knows he needs to face the music. He knows he needs to tell his friends the truth.
Sharp claws dig into Mingi’s skin through his shirt when he takes a deep breath. San’s voice is muffled against the skin of his throat. “You’re safe.”
Oh, Mingi could bathe in the warmth that washes over him at that voice. San’s sleepy voice is quiet and tender. He pouts, his puffy lips dragging against the sensitive skin of Mingi’s neck with his words.
“Don’t move. Don’t wanna move yet.”
Mingi can easily obey this command. He does open one of his eyes, though. It seems like he’s all tangled up in a San and Hongjoong spaghetti pile. It’s as warm and satiating as any pasta he’s ever scarfed down. He lets his muscles fully relax while Hongjoong’s dull nails drag against his scalp.
“You should both rest. I’ll watch over you. Don’t push yourself too soon.”
“But the cafe–” Mingi starts.
Hongjoong cuts him off quickly, “The cafe is closed until further notice. We’ll survive.”
He doesn’t fight Hongjoong. If he’s being honest, Mingi knows he’d lose in a fight against Hongjoong. Even if he’s smaller and has no magic.
Despite his inability to create magic of his own, Hongjoong is apparently independently wealthy, as Mingi learns over the next few weeks. He sets up strong boundaries around the store and San’s shack to identify visitors and redirect them if they’re unwanted or harbor ill intentions. Hongjoong is a bit of a sugar daddy for the pair in that regard. He’s willing to drop any and all money to keep them safe.
Mingi loves the human almost as much as San. But probably not. San really loves Hongjoong.
He’s a good cat. He keeps them both safe.
***
San and Hongjoong might not have had magic the day Mingi’s mother came to snatch him, but they did have claws and Dread Powder on hand. With a combo of blood and black magic, they worked together to protect Mingi and banish the light magic user from their premises before she could really harm him.
The heavy dose of both magics had knocked Mingi clean out, though. He was asleep for days before they could manage to rouse him with salves and compresses.
Mingi still works at the cafe. Each day, San walks with him to the building and stays at his table to watch as Mingi goes about his business. He still tenses up sometimes when Mingi laughs too loud at one of Hongjoong’s jokes. He definitely digs his claws into the table when Hongjoong slaps Mingi’s ass when he thinks no one is looking.
San is very possessive, but Mingi can’t say that he minds.
“Oof—Gods above, San…let me get in the door first.” The words are practically moaned by the elf. Mingi’s back is against the door of San’s cabin the moment it comes into view most days. Something about his elf smiling at other people and letting them get their wretched scent all over him really grinds the cat’s gears.
“No.” San’s teeth sink into the meat of Mingi’s neck as he grinds their lower halves together. Still fully exposed to the outside air. Mingi is trying desperately to figure out how to fit a key in a lock as San humps into him with no regard for decency laws.
They stumble back into San’s shack when Mingi finally unlocks it. He’s been living at San’s place since the incident with his mother in the cafe. It was a bit tight, but they made it work. San was on top of Mingi half the time anyway, so it wasn’t like they took up too much space.
San pushes Mingi back onto the couch then drops into his lap with a loud huff. They’re kissing before Mingi can even take a breath. He’s hungry. He’s tired. He probably needs a shower. But San can’t stand the smell of other all along Mingi’s hair and clothes, so he’s quick to rub all over him so he can leave his own scent in its stead.
“You have to stop hugging Hongjoong in front of me,” San grits out between long, drawn-out kisses. He’s whining and wiggling, and his tail is flicking back and forth like a metronome behind him. Mingi grabs the base of it to slow its dizzying ticking. This only makes San moan more. “I can’t tell if I’m more jealous of you or him.”
Mingi grins and leans back to press a firm kiss to San’s flushed cheek before posing, “Considering I’m the one that you get to cum on every night…you should probably be more jealous over me.”
“Yeah, but, Hongjoong…”
Mingi is a very patient elf. He’s loving. He’s tender. He’s soft and warm and caring when he wants to be.
He flips San onto his back on the couch with little warning. His normally gentle voice is rocky and unfamiliar with his next words, “I’ve been very patient with you, San, but I can’t say I like you moaning another man’s name while I’m getting you off.”
He wiggles down until he’s firmly planted between San’s spread legs. Those hips roll forward so their hard cocks can touch through a few layers of clothes. They haven’t progressed past this point. Mingi doesn’t know if he wants to anytime soon. It still feels so good to paw at San while fully clothed that he doesn’t want to lose that magic.
San moans like he’s being fried from the inside out as Mingi ruts against him. One of his legs hooks around Mingi’s waist to tug him closer. Their lips connect again, and it feels like a dream.
They had somehow forgotten to close one of the curtains earlier, and some of the light was slowly creeping closer and closer to the couch with each second they kissed. But Mingi barely notices it. He even welcomes it when the shimmery heat of the light starts to dance along San’s soft ears. Then over his pretty eyes and sharp cheekbones.
By the time San is cumming from Mingi’s hand down his pants, their bodies are drenched in light. And again, Mingi barely notices. He feels good. He feels warm .
San’s light has leaked into him so thoroughly that, over time, he’s grown used to the bright heat of the sun. Even while hiding in the shadows.
He finishes shortly after San with an aborted grunt and a happy trill. They’re soaked in sweat and semen, but Mingi doesn’t mind. He thinks he’s fine with it, actually. San certainly is. He’s licking the hand that Mingi had stuffed in his pants like the cream it’s soaked in is dairy.
Mingi likes the light San has shown him. He thinks he’ll try opening a few more curtains by the week’s end.
For now, he’ll carry his cat hybrid to the bathroom so they can both get clean for supper.
After that, he thinks they’ll have a walk in the waning light of day. Just a little bit. One day at a time.