Archive of Our Own ^beta

Seonghwa should really check on his herbs. They've been sitting out in the rain for a while now, and he can't leave them for too long. They have to be soaked in rainwater, yes, but they also will crumble if left in the rain for too long. 

It should be enough time now. Seonghwa checks the clock. Sure enough, it's been around two hours since he put them outside. Just perfect. Anything longer than two and a half hours will crumble for sure. He slides a bookmark between the pages of his book before setting it aside, reaching for the umbrella resting on the arm of the sofa. 

Seonghwa debates whether he should put out the fire just in case. On one hand, it would obviously be safer to not leave a fire unattended, but on the other hand, it's cold outside. He almost puts it out but stops himself. It's not like Seonghwa doesn't live dangerously anyway.But when the front door is open and he's about to snap open his umbrella, there's a loud yelp and a thud from outside. 

Seonghwa jerks in surprise, almost losing his grip on the umbrella. "Hello?" he calls, peering out into the dark as if he could see anything, "Is someone there?" 

He waits a while but doesn't hear anything else, so Seonghwa exhales to calm his racing heart. It had probably been his imagination or a broken branch from the storm. He should really be sleeping more.He opens his umbrella and mutters a basic night vision spell so he's not walking blindly into inky blackness before walking to the side of the shop to check on his herbs.

The mint is growing well, a faint white glow around the edge of its leaves. The moonshine had worked then, much better than the old recipes Seonghwa had used. He'll have to thank Kibum the next time he sees him. 

“Hm,” Seonghwa hums to himself, gently rubbing one of the leaves between the pads of his fingers, “That’s good. You’re going to be very useful.” The mint seems to glow brighter, almost seeming happy. 

He’s in the process of carefully picking up his pots when he hears a pained meow. Seonghwa frowns, he knows he definitely heard something this time, but where is it coming from? Besides, it’s pouring buckets out here, not a suitable condition for any human. 

Maybe a stray? But he knows the stray animals usually head for shelter and Minho has an entire empty building for them to stay in that most animals know about. It's not that far from here, maybe a bit of a trek but it's reliable. Weird. 

“Hello?” Seonghwa calls again, placing his pot down. He’ll pick it up later after he investigates this. Seonghwa hums another spell to himself and conjures a shield, which blinks brightly for a bit before becoming invisible. Precautions, precautions, or Hongjoong would chew him out. You're too kind-hearted for your own good, people could hurt you!

If it is truly a stray cat it couldn’t harm Seonghwa anyway, but just in case.

Seonghwa rounds the corner, heading behind the shop, where a mess of tangled and overgrown plants lies. One day he'll get Hongjoong to tidy them up - the old occupant must have not cared for these, and Seonghwa hadn't had the time yet, with unpacking and catching up with orders. 

He just barely sees the small black lump under some bushes, trembling and letting out little quiet mewls and whimpers. The only reason Seonghwa even sees it is that it's shaking violently, the poor thing, and its eyes glimmer brightly. It stops mewling when its eyes focus on Seonghwa, simply melting into the darkness and becoming another shadow. Seonghwa would have lost sight of it if he didn’t know where it was. 

He slowly walks towards it, careful as to not frighten it. 

“Oh you poor thing,” Seonghwa murmurs, crouching down and tentatively extending his hand. When the cat doesn’t react, staring at him with unblinking wide emerald eyes filled with muted fear, Seonghwa allows himself to gently caress its sopping wet fur, running a finger through the fur on its head. The poor kitty is soaked through, water pouring off its sides. It shies away from Seonghwa's touch at first, but when Seonghwa continues his rhythmic stroking, it begins to warily rub against his finger. 

He pointedly ignores the jolts of pain that shoot through his hand. The cat's hurt, whether emotionally or physically, Seonghwa can't really tell. It feels like a jumble and a mix of both, it'll take him time to unravel to feel it, if the cat lets him. 

“You’re soaked, darling. Why don’t you come in with me?”

The cat shivers, butting its nose against Seonghwa’s outstretched fingers. Seonghwa's heart goes out to it, he can almost hear it crack. 

“Mm, I’ll take that as a yes then.” Seonghwa lets go of the umbrella, murmuring a levitation spell to keep the umbrella in the air. He directs it to hover over both the cat and himself. “Come here, you.” Seonghwa scoops up the cat in one swift move, ignoring how the front of his shirt is instantly drenched and how his head pounds in protest.

The cat is tiny , almost like a little kitten barely two, but Seonghwa senses it's older than that. Even though its head is barely the size of Seonghwa's palm. The cat doesn't fight him, just shivers again and tries to burrow into Seonghwa's body warmth. It worries Seonghwa. It feels unhealthily light, even for such a tiny thing. Even pressed against Seonghwa, it trembles. It lets out a pained meow when Seonghwa stands up and accidentally jostles it. 

“Yes, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be quick.”

Seonghwa carries the cat around and back into the shop, not forgetting to charm the plants with him too. They float behind him, knocking against each other when Seonghwa doesn't pay much attention to them, occupied with trying to get the cat into the house as quickly as possible, out of the cold.

Cradling the cat in one hand, he yanks open the door with the other, the warmth from the fireplace rushing out the meet him. Seonghwa is so glad he didn't put out the fire. He flicks his finger and the plant pots soar past him to land on the kitchen table, but he doesn't check them to see if they've landed properly, fixated on the kitty in his arms.

Seonghwa sinks to his knees in front of the fireplace, setting the cat down. Worry spikes when the cat doesn't even attempt to stand up, instantly curling into a ball on its side instead. To think it's so vulnerable even when it just met Seonghwa… what has this poor thing gone through?

Seonghwa takes one of the blankets from the sofa and gently starts dabbing at the cat's fur. The blanket serves as a barrier so Seonghwa isn't directly touching it, and makes the swelling headache easier to ignore. With how cautious he's being, it takes a decently long time before the cat's fur is merely damp. By then, the cat is fast asleep, breathing steadily which eases Seonghwa's worry only slightly. 

He takes a deep breath through his nose before closing his eyes and placing his hand on its back. Dizziness rushes up to swallow him, so he grits his teeth and pushes through it. There are a lot of physical wounds here, but Seonghwa never likes to heal without permission - it feels icky to him - so he searches for anything life-threatening, or the worse of the bunch. He leaves the emotional pain alone.

A broken leg, a new bleeding wound on its stomach, and a bruise that's like someone had thrown the poor kitty.

When he finally heals these wounds the best he can, he can't stop himself from instantly ripping his hand away. He sits back on his heels, pressing his palm against his head in an attempt to chase the headache away. 

*Wha's going on?" Hongjoong's voice floats through the haze in his head, slightly slurred and thick with sleep. He must have just woken up from his nap. Seonghwa cracks an eye open to glance at him, keeping his other one firmly shut. Darkness is better for headaches. 

"Sorry, did I wake you up, love? I found this kitty injured outside, so I brought him in."

Hongjoong lowers himself to sit next to Seonghwa, letting his head fall on his shoulder. "Is it safe?" he mumbles. 

"I found him under the bushes round the back." Which means it made it past the wards, designed to keep anyone with ill intentions out. Honestly, Seonghwa didn't even think about anything except the fact that there's a cat and it's hurt. But he'll keep quiet so he doesn't get an earful. 

And he meant to ask Hongjoong something, didn't he? Huh, what is it again? This headache makes it rather hard to think. 

Bushes, bushes, the back of the house- ah right! 

"Oh, could you tidy up the plants there when you're free? We could use the space for something else."

Hongjoong laughs lightly. "You just want my free labour! And you hate the mess, not that you need the space," he teases, prodding Seonghwa's arm. 

Seonghwa forces out a laugh. While he loves Hongjoong's laugh, healing always takes a bit out of him, especially for injuries that aren't minor. And this headache means that no matter how much Seonghwa hates the feeling, Hongjoong's laughing spikes the throbbing. 

Hongjoong, always so observant, turns to look at him, a worried crease on his forehead and his lips twisted that Seonghwa hates he's the cause of. Seonghwa winces when another throb rings in his head, causing him to involuntarily squeeze his one open eye shut too. 

"Oh no, it was really bad, wasn't it?" Hongjoong mumbles, and Seonghwa feels the pads of his fingers dancing across his forehead, light and cool against the pounding. 

Reluctantly, Seonghwa nods - barely moving his head. 

He hears Hongjoong get up, quick footsteps against the floor that fade away before getting closer again. 

"Drink," Hongjoong says, nudging something cool against his hand. 

Seonghwa curls his hand around the vial before downing it, not even bothering to open his eyes. He trusts that Hongjoong isn't giving him a prank potion, and a healing one or something. 

He sighs happily when he feels the throbbing start to let up, but it'll be a while before it'll fully go away. "Thanks, baby."

"You need to take care of yourself," Hongjoong replies instead, 

"I do," Seonghwa protests, opening his eyes to look at Hongjoong, "The kitty was bleeding out! I couldn't just let it!"

"I need my wife alive and healthy, not healing random people half to death," Hongjoong argues, half-jokingly. 

"You didn't see it Joong, it was shivering half to death, and it's storming outside. The poor thing must have been so frightened."

At that, the humor disappears from Hongjoong's eyes, replaced by an overwhelming amount of worry, and the tiniest bit of fear. His eyes rake across the bundle of fur. 

"I wonder what happened," he says quietly, "I've never seen anything quite like this happen to strays. And don't strays usually head to Minho's? If it's survived on its own for so long it's a miracle."

"I know, I was thinking the same thing," Seonghwa sighs, "I suppose we'll only know if it decides to tell us."

Hongjoong snorts. "Sure."

He lets his head fall against Seonghwa's shoulder again, and Seonghwa winds an arm around his waist. "Tired?" He asks quietly, turning his head to brush his lips across the top of his head. 

"I just took a nap," Hongjoong says, sounding exasperated, but Seonghwa knows him well enough to see through his act. 

"Wanna go to bed?"

"It's like seven."

"And? It's storming outside and we still have leftovers from yesterday. We also have a lot of fruit," Seonghwa presses a proper kiss to his forehead. 

"... Maybe a bit tired," Hongjoong allows, "I stay up too late."

Seonghwa chuckles. "At least you can acknowledge it. Is it… ?" he trails off, and feels Hongjoong nods against his shoulder. "Oh baby. You should have woken me up."

"Nah," Hongjoong says quietly, "'s okay."

"Not okay," Seonghwa says firmly, "If you're having problems I want to be helping, love. You know that. We've talked about this okay? I want you to let me help you. You don't have to do everything by yourself." He squeezes Hongjoong's waist lightly for emphasis. 

"I know," Hongjoong says, so faint Seonghwa can barely hear him, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Seonghwa murmurs, "I just don't like when you're hurting."

"I know mom."

"Brat."

"You love it."

"Mhm," Seonghwa hums, hoping he sounds unconvinced because he loves his stubborn Hongjoong. He doesn't get a chance to say anything else because the cat is stirring, blinking its emerald eyes open. 

It takes half a second before its eyes latch onto Seonghwa and Hongjoong, a third of that for its pupils to dilate immensely, and no time at all for it to arch its back, its ears flattening, and a low hissing sound to erupt from its throat. Earlier, it wasn't scared of Seonghwa, which just shows how desperate it had been. 

Hongjoong doesn’t react at all, reaching over to take one of Seonghwa’s hands in his. The cat yowls at the movement, skittling back. However, it seems to finally sense the heat from the still-blazing fire, and its tail tucks itself between its legs. Its eyes dart around wildly, and Seonghwa guesses it's trying to find an exit. But he closed the door when he went in, the windows are closed due to the storm, and upstairs would not be a smart choice. To the kitty, it must seem like it's trapped. 

Hongjoong spins Seonghwa's ring around, and Seonghwa holds his hand palm up when Hongjoong tries to line his own up, like he's measuring them. 

"Hey," Seonghwa calls softly, reaching out his other hand slowly, so he doesn't scare it. 

The cat doesn't move, still clearly frightened. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," Seonghwa soothes, as if it can understand him. But he carries on anyway. "You're already hurt, and I just want to help."

It hisses at him when Seonghwa tries to lean closer. Seonghwa's lips turn down just the slightest at that, because he does want to help it. He's a healer, it's in his very nature. 

"Hwa, it wants to leave," Hongjoong speaks up quietly. "Let it go."

Seonghwa bites back his upset frown. Right. He can't help everybody, especially someone who doesn't want to be helped. Even if that someone is a poor little kitten. With a reluctant sigh, Seonghwa stands up, his hand sliding from Hongjoong's, and he walks over to open the front door. The entire time, the cat's eyes don't leave him, watching his every movement. 

Seonghwa's mind screams at him in protest when it's still storming heavily outside, but he forces himself to take steps away from the door to lean on the windowsill, leaving the cat a clear path to the exit.

The cat's head darts between Hongjoong, still seated on the floor, and Seonghwa, who's watching him in return, with a sad, sad gaze. Seonghwa breathes, and the cat is shooting out the door like a lightning bolt, running in a way that doesn't look quite natural. Seonghwa sighs again, casting a longing look into the night. But he shakes his head and gently shuts the door. The soft click echoes in the quiet room. 

Hongjoong looks up at him then, understandingly sympathetic. "You-"

"I can't help everyone," he interrupts, "I know."

Hongjoong pushes himself up, walking over to hug Seonghwa. Seonghwa wraps his arms around Hongjoong in return, swaying them gently back and forth. Seonghwa closes his eyes briefly, inhaling something so deeply Hongjoong that he can never seem to place. 

"I love you," Seonghwa says quietly, "You know that, right?"

"I love you too," Hongjoong murmurs back, tilting his head to press a kiss to Seonghwa's jaw. "It's gonna be okay."

"I know, I'm just frustrated."

Hongjoong hums. "Do you want to go to sleep? Or do you need to eat?" 

"I should be asking you that," Seonghwa laughs. Something heavy in his chest lifts slightly when Hongjoong glares at him playfully, and does his nose scrunch that Seonghwa thinks is hopelessly adorable. "I could eat something, I'm drained," he concedes.

"Fruit?" Hongjoong teases. 

"Using my own words against me, huh?" Seonghwa suddenly lifts him up, causing Hongjoong to let out a squeal and hook his legs around Seonghwa's waist, clutching him so he doesn't fall.

"Don't do that!" he whines, smacking Seonghwa's shoulder repeatedly. Seonghwa bursts into loud laughter, tilting his head up to beam at Hongjoong. 

"Stop me then," he quips. Hongjoong opens his mouth to say something, but Seonghwa starts twirling around and Hongjoong squeals again, gripping him tightly. 

"Fuck you," he yells. Seonghwa giggles, spinning into the kitchen and setting him on the counter.

Hongjoong glares at him, even when his eyes are dazed. "Fuck you," he repeats, half-heartedly smacking Seonghwa's chest. 

"I love you too," Seonghwa sing-songs, dropping a kiss to his cheek. Hongjoong huffs, wiggling his legs when Seonghwa glides to the fridge to pull out some strawberries. 

While he feeds Hongjoong strawberry after strawberry, he catches a glimmer outside the window, but when Hongjoong asks him what's wrong, Seonghwa shakes his head and once again puts it down to lack of sleep.

Seonghwa doesn't expect to see the kitty after that. It's common for animals to show up once at Minho's shelter and then disappear forever, as he found out when he helped him with chores. They go back out in the wild to fend for themselves, and while Minho often expresses his frustration at not being able to do more , he also tells Seonghwa it wouldn't be right to domesticate wild animals. He just does what he can, and Seonghwa likes him a lot for that. 

So he expects the same from this kitty, and soon forgets about it, going about his day as always. Between planting ingredients behind the house now that Hongjoong's tamed the overgrown mass, and trying out a considerably newer style of magic he hadn't touched in ages, his days are mostly occupied. 

But even with the newly strengthened wards Hongjoong's been tinkering with, he can't shake the feeling that sometimes he's being watched. 

He keeps seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he goes to investigate, there's nothing. Or he'll feel the presence of a pair of eyes that aren't Hongjoong's. Seonghwa really needs to get more sleep. Even in their bedroom, sometimes he'll hear shuffling, or soft little noises that he can't place the origin of. 

It's driving him insane, honestly. Is he becoming old and paranoid like some of the stories he heard? He hopes not - he's planning to fit in a lot more centuries, and definitely even millennia if he can. 

But obviously, the wards are working perfectly fine, so whoever's in their house (if there is someone) must not be here to do bad. It’s still worrying, but he doesn’t mention it to Hongjoong. If he husband hasn’t also noticed by now (which is very unlikely), there’s no need to worry him with something so trivial. 

Seonghwa realizes he may be dumb to not have figured it out sooner when he happens to glance outside his window when he's trying to learn crocheting. The black cat sits in the front yard, the splotch of black standing out amongst the greens. It's not doing anything, just sitting and facing the house, it's tail flicking beside him. 

Seonghwa lets out a laugh then, relieved. God, he's not going crazy. 

As he watches, the cat raises a paw to rub against its ears, before turning in a circle and lying down onto the grass. It looks so relaxed like that, Seonghwa has a strange craving for a pet. A companion when Hongjoong has to go on trips and the like (which are thankfully few and far between). The rest of the day, he catches himself periodically looking out to ensure that the cat is still there. When the sky darkens, it disappears and Seonghwa is just the tiniest bit disappointed. 

It returns the next day, and just like before, merely sits there and watches the house. It's oddly curious, but Seonghwa chooses to leave it be, since it's not doing any harm. Sometimes he catches its gaze following him when he walks past the windows, and it's kind of cute in a way. 

He's entirely busy today, mailing out an arrangement of magical paint to Seulgi for her project. The green paint has gone missing for some reason, so he has to remake it. It's only complicated because he needs a specific shade of sage green. Between collecting ingredients and picking herbs, he doesn't get a chance to go into the front yard. 

When Hongjoong comes home, the cat is nowhere to be seen. Seonghwa decides to plate a small portion of their dinner and leave it outside, in case the cat needs food. Hongjoong asks him curiously about it, but Seonghwa shrugs. He doesn't really have a plausible reason. 

The plate is empty the next time he checks, so he replaces it. 

It becomes sort of a habit, for Seonghwa to feed this cat without ever seeing it again, except for flashes of black. The cat doesn't seem to want to show itself, comfortable in what it's doing at the moment, and Seonghwa doesn't really mind. It's kind of sweet, in a way. 

After a few weeks of this curious ritual, the cat finally shows up. Seonghwa's kneeling outside, scraping some rice and fish into the small plate that he probably should wash again at some point. He hums to himself, thinking of everything and nothing at the moment. The feeling of fur brushing against his fingers startles him, yanking him out of his thoughts, but he quickly relaxes when he sees the familiar cat. 

"Hello, darling," he coos, reaching out to pet it without thinking. The cat hisses, ducking away. 

"Sorry," Seonghwa apologizes, "Are you here for your food? I'll just be on my way in a bit then." He checks his bowl to find it empty, so he stands up. 

The cat meows, watching him. 

Seonghwa holds his hands up. "That's all I have, darling." Thinking nothing of it, he turns around to head back inside. To his surprise, when he goes to close the door behind him, the cat slinks inside, seemingly intent on exploring by the way it sniffs everything it walks by. 

"Don't break anything," Seonghwa warns, "Hongjoongie won't like that. Feel free to explore otherwise."

Is it weird to let a completely strange animal into your house? Yes, but Seonghwa's standard of weirdness has long since been screwed. 

He spends the rest of the afternoon tending to his plants and tidying up their bedroom, letting the cat wander to its heart's content.

When Hongjoong comes back from his meeting with Soyeon to find Seonghwa feeding the cat out of a spoon, he doesn't question it, sitting down next to Seonghwa still in his outdoor clothes. Seonghwa briefly looks away to pat down Hongjoong's disheveled hair. 

"Hi," Hongjoong says simply, blinking at the cat, who blinks back. 

"Hi. Go change," Seonghwa pats his thigh. 

"Since when?" Hongjoong asks instead, ignoring him. 

"Today."

"Fun." Hongjoong stands up, rubbing his eyes. "I'm gonna go take a shower." He disappears into the bathroom and Seonghwa puts the spoon down, the cat instantly pouncing on it. 

"Are you staying the night?" Seonghwa props his cheek onto his fist, asking like the cat can answer him. A meow is all he gets and he doesn't expect anything otherwise. Seonghwa hums in response, content in watching the cat lick away all traces of food. 

It disappears when Seonghwa heads up to check on Hongjoong to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep in the shower - he tends to do that when he's sleepy - but Seonghwa has a feeling it'll be back, but no longer just watching like before. 

As if they've crossed over some kind of threshold, the cat visits often after, a lot of the time trailing after either of them like a shadow. Seonghwa doesn't question how it gets into the house when the windows and doors are closed. It's a welcome surprise when Seonghwa sometimes wakes up to the cat on his pillow, purring like an engine.

It feels like they've gotten a pet, and neither of them are complaining, although they've never even considered a pet or a child. 

It warms up to Seonghwa quickly, since Hongjoong does spend a lot of his time holed up in the laboratory, while Seonghwa spends his flitting around the house. The cat's taken a liking to the patches of sunshine streaming through the windows, and it often lies down in one, quietly observing Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa offers the cat an apple slice, holding it out to it. It jumps onto the counter, sniffing it delicately. Seonghwa then reconsiders, bringing it back to the chopping board to cut it into smaller cubes. He then holds the small cube out to it in the palm of his hand.

The cat sniffs it again, before quickly eating it, licking Seonghwa's palm afterwards, tongue rough against his skin. Its tail flicks in a way that tells Seonghwa it's happy, something that doesn't usually happen at all. 

Seonghwa gives it another apple, and again, its tail flicks. 

"You must like apples, don't you, sweetheart?" he comments, and that gets him a meow in return. 

The cat's face makes it looks so cute and content, and Seonghwa smiles then, an urge to squish it brewing in his chest. He splits the apple with it, making sure not to give it too much.

(Afterward, the cat will paw at the apples in the fruit bowl when Seonghwa's around and meow until Seonghwa cuts one up for it.)

Oh. That's new, Seonghwa doesn't recall seeing a collar the last few times, and he says so out loud.

"Is this new, darling?" he hums, stretching out his hand, palm up, waiting for the kitty to make the first move. He tries this a lot nowadays, holding his hand out for the cat to sniff like he would a stray. It still doesn't touch him if he's not offering food, but Seonghwa is nothing if not patient. 

It slides up to Seonghwa's fingers, almost hesitantly nudging against them. Seonghwa slowly pets him, letting the kitty get used to the feeling. 

He's so fond, so proud of the progress they're making towards touch. It means it's starting to trust him, and Seonghwa couldn't be happier. 

"Sweet baby," he comments, scratching under its chin when it lets him. The cat purrs happily. He reaches for the tag next, rolling it between his fingers. Hm, it seems heavy, maybe an expensive kind of metal. 

"___," he reads off the engraving on the tag, "Is that your name, lovely?" 

The cat meows loudly, almost frantic. It bats at Seonghwa's hand with a paw and Seonghwa understands. 

"Not your name, I got it. Why is it here then?" the last part he mumbles under his breath, understandably confused. But Kitty is getting agitated, so Seonghwa leaves the matter alone, tucking it away in his brain for another day. Instead, he savours the feeling of finally being able to pet it, its small body rumbling like a motor with the force of its purrs.

"Please?" Hongjoong begs, wiggling his fingers. The cat just blinks at him with those wide emerald eyes from under the table. Hongjoong stretches his hand as far as it can go without moving, but the cat just blinks again. 

That's so unfair! It goes to Seonghwa when he tries it, but it never comes to Hongjoong. He blames it on the past few busy weeks that caused him to be away from them, but sulking won't help their relationship. 

"Here, kitty," Hongjoong tries. 

A sniff. Then the cat starts licking at its paw, closing its eyes and not even paying attention to Hongjoong's pitiful attempts any more. 

Hongjoong imitates a meow, or tries to, as a last-ditch effort, but as always, it doesn't work except for humiliating him. The cat makes a tiny huffing noise and keeps grooming itself. 

At hearing a soft snicker behind him, Hongjoong immediately pouts, whipping to face his wife. Seonghwa's leaning against the doorway, one of his hands hiding his laughs even as his shoulders shake with mirth. 

"You're so mean," Hongjoong complains. 

"You just suck at this."

"That's unfair! Why can you do it and I can't?"

"Talent, babe," Seonghwa jokes, shaking his head. 

Hongjoong scowls and flips him off. 

"Just have some patience," Seonghwa chides, "It has to get used to you." 

Hongjoong pouts harder, which makes Seonghwa walk over and drop a kiss onto his head. 

Watching Hongjoong try to get the cat to touch him is a form of entertainment on its own. From coaxing with food, to wiggling towards it like a worm on his stomach, all the way to outright begging, which reminds Seonghwa of how the Egyptians used to worship cats. 

He's persistent, Seonghwa'll give his husband that. 

His photo album gets filled with a lot more photos of Hongjoong and the cat, and Seonghwa tucks the memories into a folder labeled "fond".

Hongjoong plops down cross-legged a distance away from the cat, who's batting at one of the feathers lying around. He folds his arms, eyeing the feline apprehensively. 

"I feed you two times a day," he whines, even though he knows full well nobody's listening. "And you don't even let me touch you."

He sounds so childish, sulking about not being able to pet a cat, but Hongjoong doesn't mind being childish. Seonghwa puts up with it, he's an enabler.

"Why not?"

The cat meows, seeming exasperated to Hongjoong, and bats the feather harder, sending it flying next to Hongjoong's knee. Hongjoong stares at it, looking between the feather and the cat. 

It blinks at him. Hongjoong blinks back. 

He pokes the feather, wiggling it curiously. The cat meows again and stalks over, head held high. Hongjoong dangles the feather in front of it, watching him closely, and ready to jump away if it pounces. It doesn't do that, but it does prowl closer and closer, until the feathertip is tickling its nose. Kitty sniffs it, and paws at it. 

Hongjoong grins brightly, before yanking it away for a game. To his disappointment, the cat ignores it, but Hongjoong's heart soars when it chooses to butt his wet little nose against his fingers. 

"Oh," Hongjoong breathes, "Cute." Tentatively, cautiously, he runs the finger gently up its nose and onto its head. Kitty purrs, leaning into the touch. 

"Thank you," Hongjoong says, absolutely delighted. The cat's finally taken pity on him, and it's probably due to him humiliating himself and bending over backwards just for a touch, but Hongjoong's not about to complain after trying for so long.

Seonghwa snaps a Polaroid, capturing Hongjoong's beaming smile and the kitty wrapped around his fingers, and slips it into his photo album. 

An idea comes to Hongjoong in the middle of the night, but he waits til the next day to execute it. Seonghwa finds him then, sitting cross-legged in front of their front door, tools scattered around his figure and a screwdriver in his mouth. 

"What are you doing?" Seonghwa asks him, kneeling down next to Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong hums around the screwdriver as a response, before picking out one of the spare wands they've kept from the mess around him. Squinting in concentration, he does a non-verbal heat spell to carve out a small section from the wall next to the door. Luckily, Seonghwa is smart enough to keep quiet until Hongjoong's done so they don't get a huge crack across their wall. That's a mistake they plan to never repeat again. 

"A cat door?" Seonghwa guesses once Hongjoong's done and he beams, nodding. Seonghwa plucks out the screwdriver, and Hongjoong elaborates. 

"It's easier for the kitty."

And Hongjoong wants to do seonthing for him, since the cat is now so comfortable around them it makes them content, Hongjoong wants to give it something. 

"How sweet of you, love. Anything I can do?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "I dunno. Anything you want to do I guess?"

Seonghwa rolls his eyes fondly as Hongjoong slips a pair of goggles on just in case. "I'll go and finish pouring your potions for Sua then?"

Hongjoong hums his assent, pulling out some nails and screws to rummage through. Seonghwa's about to head to their potion room when Hongjoong speaks up. 

"Wait!"

Seonghwa turns back around to see Hongjoong staring at him expectantly, eyes big and round. 

"Yeah?"

"I want a kiss."

Seonghwa burst out laughing and Hongjoong grins, satisfied. Seonghwa bends down to use his fingers to tilt his head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Hongjoong sighs softly in content, melting against Seonghwa's hand. Hongjoong makes a small whiny noise when Seonghwa pulls away, and Seonghwa is so, so in love. 

"Go finish your door and I'll kiss you again if you want," Seonghwa ruffles his hair and heads to get Sua's batch ready. 

The second Hongjoong puts the finishing touches on the plain door to make it blend in with the wall, so nobody could see it until you knew it was there, the kitty slinks through, immediately curling around Hongjoong's leg. It opens seamlessly, quietly, and Hongjoong is satisfied. 

"Good morning," Hongjoong says, petting it even as he stands up,"How do you like this?"

The cat meows loudly, sounding happy, although the way he's zooming around Hongjoong's feet should be indication enough. 

"I'm glad," Hongjoong laughs. "Now you don't have to struggle with the door anymore." 

The cat just meows again. 

Hongjoong scoops it up in a swift move, the cat stiffening at first but eventually relaxing by wiggling in Hongjoong’s arms. "Let's go annoy Hwa~" he sing-songs. 

They find Seonghwa carefully pouring steaming red liquid into a flask, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. Hongjoong had been planning to throw the cat at Seonghwa for a bit of a scare, but steaming red liquid is not a good sign. He may have forgotten what exactly it is but it doesn't look safe either way. 

Instead, while Seonghwa's still occupied (very concentrated by the way he hasn't even noticed Hongjoong, either that or he's ignoring him, which cannot stand!), Hongjoong ducks out of sight and he plucks a green potion from the bottom cupboards. He uncorks it and holds it out to the kitty, who sniffs it, peering at it curiously. 

A shit-eating grin makes its way onto Hongjoong's face when Seonghwa puts his potions down at the same time Kitty's tongue darts out to lap at the potion. 

It smells of green apples, Hongjoong modified it himself. 

Then Hongjoong is crawling out of the room as quick as he can, leaving Seonghwa to deal with the consequences of feeding a constantly-meowing cat a sound-amplifying potion. 

Hongjoong is still adamant that the high-pitched shriek of his lover is worth the finger-shaped bruises on his hips. 

Seonghwa runs a hand through Hongjoong's hair, lightly scratching his nails against his scalp the way he likes it. Hongjoong's almost asleep by now, face squished against Seonghwa's chest as he reads a novel. All the chores are taken care of, there's nothing Seonghwa has to deliver, and Hongjoong has enough potions for anything they might need for the moment, so they're spending a lazy afternoon together. 

Their cups of tea sit cooling on the table, but Seonghwa doesn't pay them any attention, his attention split between his story and the blonde-haired beauty in his arms. He doesn't mind cool tea, or even room temperature. Hongjoong's the only one who whines about it until Seonghwa heats it back up for him. 

Hongjoong hums when Seonghwa stops stroking his hair to wind an arm around his waist, holding him close. Seonghwa tears his eyes away from his book just in time to watch Hongjoong's features soften, relaxing when he finally drifts off. He can't stop the fond smile tugging up his lips at the sight of Hongjoong being so peaceful. Wishes he could stay like that forever. 

Seonghwa shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and flips over a page. They stay wrapped like that for who knows how long, encased in a warm bubble of peace and quiet.

Abruptly, the bubble pops when a telltale whoosh echoes through the room that could have only been caused by the cat flap opening. Seonghwa turns his head towards the direction of the door, simply expecting to see their usual feline visitor padding towards them, but his eyes widen with alarm instead. 

Kitty is wobbling as it toddles towards where they're sitting, its movements are sluggish, and it's almost like it's just forcing himself to move forward. It doesn't even seem like he notices Seonghwa. Panic crawls up Seonghwa's spine, the state the kitty is in worrying him to no end. 

His emotions are amplified by what seems like a thousand when he spots the trail of dark marks the kitty is leaving behind, looking suspiciously like blood, and it only further increases impossibly more when the pungent trace of dark magic makes him want to gag. 

Hurriedly, he haphazardly puts the book down on the table, uncaring whether he loses his place or the pages get crumpled. He slides Hongjoong off him as quickly as he can without waking him, prying Hongjoong off him when his husband whines sleepily and tries to drag him back. 

Normally, he wouldn't do that, but currently, he only has eyes for the kitty. 

Seonghwa crashes to his knees with a thump that's probably bad for him, but doesn't even notice. He's only fixated on the way the cat doesn't even react when usually it jumps at loud noises. 

"Hey, hey baby, can you hear me?" Seonghwa fights to keep his panic out of his tone. No use showing it, has to be strong for everyone else. The cat stills, sluggishly lifting its head as if to glance at Seonghwa. Then it gives out a pitful mewl before it's tipping forward, legs giving out under it. 

Seonghwa reaches out to catch it, but instead of a cat in his arms, the cat melts away to reveal a young man. Seonghwa catches him to avoid him crashing to the floor just in time, cradling his head and holding him close. A shapeshifter. Of course. He knew that. 

But if his injuries are bad enough to make him lose form, it must be really, really bad. The wave of nausea crashing into him confirms it. He has to pinch his arm to fight it back. 

"Hongjoong!" he calls, voice laced with desperation he doesn't have the strength to hide. He hopes Hongjoong's woken up by now. The amount of dark magic radiating from him means Seonghwa won't be able to even attempt to heal him without overexerting himself to the point of fainting - at least, not without a potion or two. 

The boy (? man? He looks heart-wrenchingly young) is scarily thin, with sunken cheekbones and bony wrists. He's wearing nothing but an oversized white shirt, dirty and ragged. What Seonghwa can see of his pale skin (which is frankly a lot, the shirt barely covers him) is littered with red and black and blue. His forearms are almost black with how heavy the bruising is there, and there are faint circles around his wrists. Seonghwa's heart lurches in his throat, and he can't figure out whether it's the obvious abuse or the dark magic that causes it. Or both. It could be both. 

"Hongjoong!" he calls again, not taking his eyes off the boy. He summons what shreds of magic he can, staunching the blood dripping onto the floor. 

A few sounds tell him Hongjoong's awake, and it's less than a minute before a vial rack is set beside him, filled with a multitude of colorful potions. He hears Hongjoong's footsteps dashing away before he gets the chance to thank him. 

Right. Dark magic. 

He can handle that later, now, he just has to focus. 

The sky is pitch black when Seonghwa finally looks up again, having done the best he could to heal the boy. He's not in critical condition anymore, but he's still injured, and this time, with wounds Seonghwa can't magic away. 

Emotional ones. And ones made with magic. Spells Seonghwa's heard of but would never, ever try. Like ones that carve letters into skin, permanent and scarring; ones that burn, burn, burn like being slathered with red-hot lava; ones that feel like being eaten alive, critters chewing beneath the skin. San doesn't have the worst ones, but he does have some pretty nasty ones. Seonghwa can halt them. But it'll be ages before they even begin to heal. He probably needs to ask Chan for help, it's more his area of expertise than it is Seonghwa's. 

At least the dark magic is gone. A win in Seonghwa's book. 

Most of the vials are empty, but Seonghwa still feels like he's been running a marathon nonstop for over twelve hours. His face is beaded with sweat, so he lifts a hand to his face to wipe it away. Seonghwa throws his head back, letting out a tired sigh. 

He fumbles for a pink vial, expertly flicking off the cork with his thumb before throwing it back like a vodka shot. Still exhausted, but not as quick to pass out anytime soon. 

The boy is still half lying on his lap, his face contorted like he's having a nightmare, so Seonghwa doesn't think he'll be going anywhere soon. Shuffling around, he manages to maneuver them both so he's lying on the floor, the boy's head resting on his chest like he usually does with Hongjoong. 

It's almost too easy to move him around. 

But Seonghwa pushes the thought to the back of his mind. Instead, he closes his eyes and finally lets the darkness swallow him whole. 

Hongjoong coughs weakly, letting his head fall down to rest against the toilet seat. The nausea stopped. Finally. It's so not fun feeling like you have to throw up for hours. 

Weakly, he raises a hand to swipe at the tears that had leaked out from the force of his puking. He's never been one to be able to withstand dark magic much. Always Seonghwa. He's always the stronger one, no matter how much they pretend. 

When he finally gets back to the living room after he cleans up and rinses his mouth, the sight of Seonghwa fast asleep and curled protectively around the boy manages to lighten up his heart. 

How the hell could someone do this to a young boy? What possible reason could there even be?

He'll do anything to keep him - them - both safe. Deep in his heart, Hongjoong swears it. Letting Seonghwa get hurt is out of the question (had been since he met him), but this boy… this boy has been on their doorstep for so long, Hongjoong would be lying if he isn't fond of the cat. 

And nobody deserves to get hurt like that. No one.

He sighs softly, pulling the blanket off the couch before draping it over the two men. He kneels down to tuck it around them so it doesn't fly off somehow. Somehow, he manages without waking either of them up. With some difficulty, he also manages to lift up Seonghwa's head just enough for him to slide a cushion underneath. 

Seonghwa's lashes flutter at that, stirring slightly. "Joongie?" he mumbles. 

"Go back to sleep," Hongjoong says softly, brushing his fingers against Seonghwa's forehead to sweep away his bangs. "You've done so much."

Seonghwa smiles sleepily at him. "You go to sleep too, yeah? Don't sleep on the couch, it's not good for your back."

"Okay," Hongjoong lies. Like hell he's leaving them alone like this. His back can survive one night on the couch. 

"Gimme a kiss," Seonghwa pouts at him, childishly. 

Hongjoong chuckles at that, easily leaning down further to slot his lips against Seonghwa's, who sighs, satisfied, and cups the back of his neck with the hand not wrapped around the boy. 

"Go drink some milk, love," Seonghwa tells him when he pulls away, "It might help."

With the vomit and stomach acid. Of course. 

"Mhm," Hongjoong hums, "I love you."

"I love you too," Seonghwa says back, eyes closed and already half-asleep. 

Hongjoong stands up after that. He takes the cups of tea and walks to pour them down the drain. Hongjoong doesn't have the stomach for it, and Seonghwa won't drink anything left in the open overnight. He obediently pours himself a small mug of milk from the fridge, sipping on it slowly as he watches the seconds tick by. 

He feels angry. Angry, pissed, mad, frustrated. He's feeling a lot of negative emotions right now. Something in his gut slowly heating up until it explodes out of him one day. Hongjoong's grip tightens around the mug handle. Calm down , he chides himself, Don't be rash. Seonghwa hates it when you rush into things. He exhales heavily, staring into the bottom of his mug. Later. First, you have to make sure he's okay. Everything comes after. 

Hongjoong shakes his head, tucking away these angry emotions into a box to open later. He rinses out his mug in the sink before leaving it there. 

Seonghwa's asleep again when he makes his way back to the couch, and he stares at him for a brief moment before climbing back onto the couch. 

He curls up into a ball on his side, his head resting against the armrest. It makes sure Seonghwa and the boy are in his sights. He pulls the other blanket over him and prepares for another sleepless night. If he can't sleep properly with Seonghwa next to him, Seonghwa not next to him would definitely not be any better. Hongjoong occupies himself with watching the rise and fall of their chests, a steady beat to concentrate on. 

Seonghwa groans when he wakes, since a ray of light had decided to say fuck Seonghwa and specifically hit his eyes. He throws a hand over his eyes so he can open them. 

Why is he on the floor again? But there's something soft under his head and a blanket over him. 

Seeing black hair instead of blonde on his chest makes last night's memories come rushing back instantly and he frowns, absentmindedly stroking the boy's hair. He tries to sit up, because Seonghwa's never been one to laze in bed, but the boy lets out a soft noise that tugs at Seonghwa's heartstrings and he ceases his attempts. 

However, it seems to be enough to make the boy stir, nuzzling his cheek into Seonghwa's chest. 

"Good morning, sweet baby," Seonghwa says softly, deciding using one of his usual nicknames for the cat would be a good choice. 

The boy lets out a low purr, melting into Seonghwa. But then his entire body stiffens, and his eyes snap open, locking onto Seonghwa fearfully. 

Seonghwa doesn't stop stroking his hair, trying his best to be as gentle as possible. He pretends it doesn't pain him when the boy scrambles out from his arms, instead heading to sit a short distance away, arms wrapping his legs to his chest, and letting the shirt stretch over his knees. The boy's mouth opens and closes, like he wants to say something but doesn't know if he should. 

Seonghwa sits up then too, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers. A glance behind him shows him Hongjoong's blonde hair on the armrest and he shakes his head fondly. 

His husband is so lovingly stubborn. 

He directs his attention back to the boy, who's still warily staring at him, like he's calculating stuff in his head. Maybe calculating the danger level. But oh , he's so young, too young to be thinking like that.

"What's your name, darling? It'd be nice to finally put a name to your face," he prompts gently, seeing that the boy must be lost and confused. 

"I'm human ," the boy whispers, his voice hoarse, "But I…"

"You lost form last night. Do you remember what happened?" 

He shakes his head. "I- I just-"

"It's alright. You don't have to tell me. I asked because you showed up injured."

His face sours, a flash of something passing across his eyes. "What do you want?"

Seonghwa blinks, confused. "What… do I want?"

"In return," he elaborates, "I don't feel hurt. You healed me." He says it matter-of-factly, almost casually. 

"Oh I don't want anything," Seonghwa rushes to say, "I'm a healer."

"But-" The boy looks so confused, Seonghwa's heart goes out to him. What have people taught him? "Don't I have to do something for you?"

Seonghwa shakes his head. "No. No, absolutely not."

"Oh. Um. Really?"

"Really," Seonghwa says softly, "What's your name?"

The boy doesn't avoid the question this time, instead hesitating a little before finally speaking up. "San," he says it almost like he has to think before remembering it. 

"Thank you, San. I'm Seonghwa, but you must already know that. You can call me hyung if you want."

"You're…" San's tongue darts out to wet his lips before answering, "You're the nice one."

"Is there someone who's not nice, San?" 

Of course there's someone who's "not nice", downright cruel even. The wounds and scars littering San's skin are enough proof of that. 

San doesn't answer him, and Seonghwa hadn’t expected him to, but he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. If he knew who hurt San, maybe he could do something. 

"Are you hungry? I can heat something up for you, or I have fruit and vegetables if you prefer. I didn't know what you liked when you were a cat so I kinda just guessed."

"'s not mealtime," San says instead. It sounds robotic, habitual, and Seonghwa's skin pickles uncomfortably. 

"But are you hungry?"

"It's not mealtime," San only repeats, and Seonghwa's heart sinks. 

"Well, if you're hungry, please let me know," he says, "I'll have to make breakfast anyway. Besides, when is mealtime?"

San shrugs, his arms tightening around his knees. Seonghwa fights the negative emotions off his face and stands up, heading over to Hongjoong to wake him up before he sleeps in that position for too long and complains about a stiff neck. 

"Joongie," he whispers, stroking a thumb along his cheek, "Joong-ah, wake up, love."

Hongjoong lets out an incoherent noise, grumbling even as he presses his cheek against Seonghwa's thumb. 

"Up, baby. Or you're going to complain about neck stiffness again. And you hated it last time."

"Five more minutes mommy," Hongjoong slurs, lips falling into an unconscious pout. 

Seonghwa laughs, gently smacking his thigh. "No baby."

Hongjoong groans when he peels his eyes open, sticking his tongue out at Seonghwa. "Mean."

"Mean, am I? Then you can make your own breakfast."

Hongjoong immediately shoots up, whining. "Nooo, Seonghwa!" 

"Nooo, Hongjoong!" Seonghwa imitates teasingly, "Get up then, you big baby."

Hongjoong huffs out a laugh, wiggling in his seat. "Please make pancakes."

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. "Strawberry?"

Hongjoong hums. 

"Yes, your Highness," Seonghwa says, deadpan, "Now go and brush your teeth."

"Give me a kiss," Hongjoong says annoyingly, kicking Seonghwa's thigh. 

"You're stinky." Seonghwa wrinkles his nose. "Go brush your teeth and we'll see."

"Go brush your teeth and we'll see," Hongjoong mocks, high-pitched and whiny even as he shuffles towards the bathroom with just a faint glance thrown San's way. Seonghwa shakes his head, fondness swirling within his chest. He heads to the kitchen to locate the pancake mix, pretending not to see the way San's eyes follow him. 

When Hongjoong finally sits down at the kitchen island, with freshly-brushed teeth and a hoodie that's definitely not Seonghwa's, Seonghwa's managed to make a decently sized stack of pancakes. He squirts some whipped cream to the side and takes out the box of strawberries. 

"I'm gonna brush my teeth, do not eat them all," Seonghwa waggles a warning finger at Hongjoong's Cheshire grin. Hongjoong turns to smile sweetly at him and Seonghwa decides to speedrun brushing his teeth. 

He comes back to the sight of Hongjoong offering a plate with a single pancake on top to San, who's just staring at it warily. As he watches, San reaches out to take it, his fingers trembling even as he sits down across from Hongjoong. Seonghwa is so proud of him. 

He comes up from behind Hongjoong when his husband stabs a pancake with his fork, biting into it instead of cutting it into pieces. He manages to nab a bite before Hongjoong whips his hand away, eyes wide with betrayal. 

"My pancake," he mourns, even when his mouth is stuffed full. 

"I made you that pancake."

"So therefore, it is now mine and not yours. Get your own, heathen!" Hongjoong exclaims, punching Seonghwa's arm lightly. 

Seonghwa pouts at him, pretending to sulk. "Hongjoongie," he whines.

" Seonghwa ," Hongjoong whines back. Seonghwa blinks at him for half a second before Hongjoong scowls and shoves his fork towards Seonghwa, the pancake flopping on its spear and almost flying off the fork.

" Thank you baby," Seonghwa says, biting off half. Hongjoong shoves the rest in his mouth, still scowling. 

(Seonghwa does give him his kiss through, tasting of strawberries and cream.)

When Seonghwa clears the table once Hongjoong takes San outside to see their flowers, he notices that San's singular pancake is untouched. He bites his lips while he dumps it in the trash. San's quiet the whole day, noticeably less lively when he was a cat, but neither of them comment on it. When the sun starts to set, San leaves, the cat door swinging in his wake, and Seonghwa tries to convince himself everything's fine. 

The routine doesn't change after that. San comes at sunrise and leaves at sunset, blending into Seonghwa and Hongjoong's life as a person instead of a cat. 

It's like they go back to step one, back to the first few days when San first came into their lives with how cautious he's being, but it's understandable. Hongjoong feels like they've gotten a child, with none of the responsibilities except making sure San is safe. Which doesn't seem like they're succeeding at it when San shows up with new bruises and brushes off Seonghwa when he asks.

San visits less often too, and Hongjoong can see Seonghwa trying not to fall apart when San comes home every other day with darker shades of purple imprinted on his limbs and copper dried on the same old shirt. 

But he does let Seonghwa try to heal them - most of them heal easy, normal wounds, but he also gets a handful of scars that stubbornly refuse to fade away. 

Hongjoong takes a portal or similar transportation to the nearest gym then, or a abandoned forest if all the gyms are closed, and takes his frustration out on the poor punching bag or tree that would be his victim for the night. Once his tree is obliterated, he comes home and lets Seonghwa cry in his arms, because his wife hates not being able to do anything when the solution is right there. But they can't do anything.

San won't talk, and neither of them want to invade his privacy and risk ruining what little help they can provide him. Baby steps, Hongjoong constantly repeats, to convince not only Seonghwa but also himself. 

Seonghwa’s scribbling some notes down for a to-do list when Hongjoong approaches him. 

"Hwa?" he asks, walking to stand next to Seonghwa. "What are you doing?" his nose scrunches as he peers over his shoulder to stare at the paper, trying to make sense of what his wife is writing. 

"Writing down the stuff we have to give out," Seonghwa replies absentmindedly, fiddling with the pen and chewing on the cap. “Trying not to forget. Sunwoo wanted the spiderwebs and honeysuckle, right?"

"No, Sunwoo wants the honeysuckle and morning glory. For his experiment thing. Seungcheol hyung wants the spiderwebs."

Seonghwa hums, quickly scribbling it down. Right, Seongcheol wants the spiderwebs for the thing his maknae is trying to do - something something Halloween celebration, even if it's ages away. Then Seonghwa glances up, properly taking in Hongjoong for the first time. Whatever he was going to ask dies on his tongue when he sees Hongjoong's wearing one of Seonghwa's hoodie that completely dwarfs him. He looks so soft and cuddly. "Is that my hoodie?"

Hongjoong fixes him with a deadpan stare that would be probably intimidating to anyone else. "No."

Seonghwa squints at him, raising an eyebrow until Hongjoong pouts and folds his arms. “Fine! Maybe,” he relents, "It's comfy!"

Seonghwa laughs then, reaching up to poke Hongjoong’s cheek affectionately. Hongjoong avoids his finger with a scowl. “Cute. What did you come here for?”

“Can’t I just come to see you?”

“Yeah, but you don’t do that, you just sit where you are and stare at me.”

Hongjoong splutters, face reddening as he swats Seonghwa’s persistent hands away from his face. “I do not!” he protests.

“You do.”

“Whatever! I was gonna ask you how mad you would be if, hypothetically, we had to move again.”

Seonghwa blinks at him for a beat. "Hypothetically?"

Hongjoong squirms where he stands, looking sheepish. "Hy…pothetically." 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes fondly, spinning his chair around to face Hongjoong. Before his husband can react, he yanks Hongjoong down onto his lap, the younger letting out a squeak of surprise and his hands coming up to support himself against Seonghwa's chest. 

"Hi baby," Seonghwa giggles, nose to nose with Hongjoong. Hongjoong huffs, wiggling around to get a better seat. 

"Fuck you."

Seonghwa gives him an endeared smile. "Well? Why hypothetically?"

"Well first, hypothetically, would you be mad?"

Seonghwa hums thoughtfully. They've only moved here a little over a month, that's true, and it's pretty nice here. But they haven't fully unpacked, so if they absolutely had to, it wouldn't be too much trouble. "Depends why, but I would just be slightly annoyed, not mad," he finally answers honestly, "Hm?" He reaches to brush Hongjoong's bangs out of his face. 

"Nothing," Hongjoong says, tucking his face into Seonghwa's neck. "Just a thought."

Seonghwa hums, not believing his husband at all. "No arson. I can excuse kidnapping."

"Not even a tiny bit of arson?"

"Under certain circumstances, fine," Seonghwa gives him a look, partly curious.

"Yesss," Hongjoong cheers, doing a tiny fist pump. 

"But why do you need to do something illegal?"

"Just in case," Hongjoong laughs into Seonghwa's shoulder and he rolls his eyes but laughs too. He wouldn't put it past Hongjoong to kidnap San just to keep him safe from harm. Which is probably why Hongjoong's asking. He's too predictable. And Seonghwa, depressingly, isn't against it. San makes him want to take drastic measures that may or may not also involve kidnapping and arson under certain circumstances. 

They make progress.

It's not much, but it is progress nonetheless. San still flinches at loud noises, Hongjoong still tries to keep him here, and Seonghwa still worries. 

But San eats.

Yet again, it’s apples that bring him to Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa never does find out when San's mealtimes are, but what he does know, is that he has never seen San eat when he's human. Not when Hongjoong offers him parts of their lunch and not when Seonghwa plates freshly-baked goodies out to sit. Seonghwa hates that, a sticky, molasses-like feeling deep in his chest when San smiles politely with a practiced smile and shakes his head, even when his eyes are longing. 

They don't stop trying. 

Hongjoong scatters snacks and chocolate around the living areas and Seonghwa leaves his pastries on the counter, in plain sight in case San wants anything. Seonghwa fills the fruit bowl up too, for a healthier alternative.

No luck. 

It feels hopeless sometimes, when Seonghwa has to watch San slowly waste away into a shadow of that overly affection kitten. When the sparkle in his eyes is fading, not like there had been much in the first place. 

But San is strong. Seonghwa knows San is strong, and he chooses to believe in that if not in anything else. 

And San does prove that Seonghwa's not wrong to trust him. His brave, sweet, precious boy. 

(When did he start calling San his? Seonghwa doesn't remember.)

San walks up to him while Seonghwa's making tea for Hongjoong, since the younger man has a bit of a sore throat and his cheeks are flushed red despite not having a fever. Even though Hongjoong protests, Seonghwa had locked the doors to any room that could allow Hongjoong to work and banished him to the couch (or the bed). His husband now sits curled up on the sofa in a blanket burrito, sulking with the tiniest pout with cherry-red cheeks. He's watching some kids show, although Seonghwa isn't quite sure he's that invested in it. 

San stands there while Seonghwa pours the hot water before tentatively prodding his arm. 

"Yes, lovely?" Seonghwa turns around to look at him, setting down the bottle. He appreciates San waiting til he’s done. San looks like he's about to squirm from the attention, but instead shyly holds out one of the apples, perfect and round. He doesn't meet Seonghwa's gaze. 

"Oh, thank you baby! That's a really good idea," Seonghwa praises, and if he's exaggerating slightly, it's okay. "I was just going to make soup, but this should be better."

A flush climbs up San’s cheeks, red enough to rival Hongjoong’s, and he ducks his head at the praise, staring at the floor instead. 

“Do you want to help me cut it up?”

San’s eyes flicker to the knives in their sheathes and he quickly shakes his head, already preparing to take a step back to leave. Seonghwa’s heart clenches at the subtle confession, the confirmation. His head pounds.

“We don’t have to use the knives,” Seonghwa says quietly, so San doesn’t think he’s being pressured. “Hongjoongie tends to use a wand for them instead. We have beginner wands that can’t hurt people, no matter whatever spells are being cast.” 

The words are out of his mouth before Seonghwa thinks he's might be being too obvious.

San yet again shakes his head, but only after a brief pause like he considers it. He doesn't leave though, and Seonghwa summons the wand from the storage room. He might be a bit rusty - Seonghwa doesn't need a wand after all - but with a couple flicks, the apple falls apart into neat thin slices. 

He picks one and holds it out to San, half-expecting San to refuse like always. To his disbelief, San takes it, eyes a bit unfocused as he stares at the apple slices on the chopping board without seeing. 

Seonghwa doesn't know what to say without it affecting him, so he keeps quiet. His eyes water, and he quickly plates the apples with his hands trembling slightly. 

He's so fucking proud of San. 

Seonghwa brings the plate over to Hongjoong while San starts nibbling on the slice, tiny little bites. Hongjoong seems to have stopped sulking, face drowsy as he watches his show. When Seonghwa comes close, he looks up, and his eyes immediately widen in panic. 

"What happened?" he exclaims, shooting up to sit up straight and cup Seonghwa's face in his hands, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. 

Seonghwa shakes his head, setting the plate down on the table in front of him and curling into Hongjoong's side. 

San's eating , he murmurs mentally to Hongjoong to ease his worried expression. The worry melts away from Hongjoong's face, and he looks just like Seonghwa feels. Hongjoong sighs softly, wrapping an arm around Seonghwa to pull him closer. 

"I'm glad," Hongjoong whispers. Seonghwa nods for lack of a better response. He lets himself lie down with his head on Hongjoong's lap, feeling his husband wind his hands through the strands of his hair. 

He's tired, and Hongjoong's presence is soothing and warm. He reaches up to feed Hongjoong an apple, which he accepts before giving Seonghwa one in return. San, now back in cat form, hops onto Seonghwa's chest and lies down there, looking like a loaf of bread. 

Seonghwa looks at him with fireworks exploding in his heart, and taps another apple slice against San's nose. San meows at that, his face scrunching up, but he uses his teeth to snatch the slice away. San happily chomps up the apple while Seonghwa scratches behind his ears, purring like a motor, a warm weight on Seonghwa's chest. 

Seonghwa feels Hongjoong's smile like a warm blanket as he watches them. 

Progress.

“I saw you dancing,” San admits quietly to Seonghwa one day, when Hongjoong is outside talking to a pretty little rose fairy. Seonghwa tears his eyes away from Hongjoong in the window, looking at San curiously.

“Hm?”
“The first day you found me,” San says, “You and hyung were dancing in the living room.”

Seonghwa remembers that faintly, of picking Hongjoong up and spinning him round. Calling it dancing wouldn’t be quite accurate - Hongjoong does ballroom and waltz quite well and they were just playing around. He smiles slightly at that, the memory drenched in fondness and amber light. 

“I remember that, why?” Seonghwa prompts.

"You wanted to know why I came back." 

Right, he did. He didn't realize San wasn't asleep when he asked though. Just another afternoon when San slept in the yard, and Seonghwa had gone out to prop an umbrella over him because it had started drizzling. He had asked the question then, under his breath as San breathes evenly under his palm, before leaving San to sleep peacefully. Because strays never did seem to stay, always independent. 

But what does them playing around have anything to do with it? As if San can read the question in his eyes, he continues.

"You seemed…so happy. I wanted that," he whispers. Seonghwa lets his eyes run over San, takes in his wringing hands and the soft, round eyes. They've come far these past few weeks, San coming out of his shell yet again to show the side of him that's playful, yet still needing love. 

"I'll try my best to give you that," Seonghwa says softly. "I want you to be happy. If Hongjoongie and I can do this for you, I want to."

Providing a safe space for San… that's the least Seonghwa wants to do, if he can't hide him away from the claws of the people who hurt him. 

San doesn't seem to know what to say. 

Seonghwa stands up when an idea comes to him. He holds a hand out to San with a smile. "May I have this dance?" The all-too-familiar phrase rolls off his tongue jokingly. 

San's eyes waver, but his hand is steady when he places it in Seonghwa's. 

Trust. That's what Seonghwa feels. Trust. 

"Have you ever danced before?" Seonghwa asks, tugging him closer and placing a gentle hand on his hip. San is a bit shorter than him by a few centimetres, but that doesn't faze Seonghwa.

"No," San admits, as if embarrassed. 

"That's fine," Seonghwa laughs, "I remember trying to dance for the first time. I was horrible . I kept stepping on Jimin hyung's feet, so I don't mind if you step on mine."

Seonghwa explains an easy two-step, and San's face falls into one of childish curiosity and concentration as he tries to follow. If Seonghwa's honest, it's not really dancing , per se - Hongjoong would call it shuffling, but it's fun, and it's moving your body, so whatever. Not like the fun police is going to show up. 

He slowly guides San to twirl around the living room to non-existent music, counting an eight beat to make it easier. 

To Seonghwa's delight, San is great for someone who's never danced before, so he's quick to put on some fasteer paced music than his eight count, yanking San along for some fun. By the end of the first song, San's cheeks are flushed, but he looks like he's having the time of his life, dimples deep and pretty. 

"Having fun without me?" Hongjoong asks lightheartedly, popping his head through the door. "Hwa, where did you put the petunias?"

Seonghwa pauses the music to wave vaguely at the bunch of flowers in glass jar near the door, a colorful mismatch of random flowers. "There's some in there. Is that all?"

Hongjoong plucks a pink flower before nodding. "Yep. i have the honey."

It doesn't take long for him to hand the flowers and honey to the rose fairy, who gives him a kiss on the cheek as farewell. 

"Are you teaching San how to dance?" Hongjoong closes the door, watching them. 

"Wanna show him how we used to?" Seonghwa hits play again, letting the music swirl around them. Hongjoong laughs, a challenge sparkling in his eyes. 

"Bet."

Seonghwa lets go of San to yank Hongjoong close, so fast Hongjoong stumbles over his own feet, to which Seonghwa hides a snicker. They quickly assume a practiced stance, Hongjoong's hand finding its place on Seonghwa's hip, and Seonghwa's hand on Hongjoong's shoulder. 

"Waltz?" he asks. 

Hongjoong shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. "Let's do competitive ballroom."

Seonghwa gives him a smile that's just as crooked, and the music swells into a new song around them. In a beat, they're falling into a familiar routine and Seonghwa can faintly see another Hongjoong blurring his, one with jet-black hair and eyes too dull for someone with so much color. 

But current Hongjoong's eyes are sparkling as he spins Seonghwa around and it brings him back to the present, just in time for Hongjoong to dip him down. 

Neither of them are breathless like normal humans would be when the music ends, so San just stares at them with his mouth parted. He claps awkwardly. 

Hongjoong grins at that, big and bright in his element and like Seonghwa before, reaches a hand out to San. "I'll teach you!"

They spend the rest of the afternoon teaching San how to waltz since it's easier (or so Hongjoong says, and he's the dancing expert), and the house echoes with the laughter of three. San once again slinks off at nightfall and Seonghwa lets Hongjoong's chaste kisses distract him from worrying. 

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong whines, poking his head through the door of the studio. Seonghwa's set up an easel this morning, and is trying to paint a landscape. He hasn't painted in a long while, not since… anyway, he's glad he doesn't seem to have lost his touch. The landscape looks good for someone who hasn't picked up a brush in years. Seonghwa hums, dotting flower petals with pink and white.

"Make me cookies please?" 

Seonghwa laughs, turning around to look at him while he rinses his brush out. "You know the recipe, it's in the cookbook."

Hongjoong pouts. "Please?"

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but he drops the brush into the water jar. He stands up and starts untying his apron. "You're so lazy."

Hongjoong beams at him.

"Grab the chocolate chips for me in the cupboards? Unless you want another flavor?"

"Chocolate is good, thank you!"

Seonghwa watches him fondly as Hongjoong runs out of the kitchen. God, he loves him so much. 

He folds the apron, leaves it on the stool, and picks up the jar. He carefully makes his way downstairs, careful not to spill anything. 

Hongjoong's kneeling on the kitchen counter when Seonghwa passes by, humming quietly to himself as he pulls the ingredients out from the cupboard, and Seonghwa feels a fond smile spread on his face. He walks past to head into the bathroom, dumping out the dirty paint water and rinsing the jar. Once he deems it clean enough, he goes to the kitchen (levitating the jar back upstairs) to find Hongjoong swinging his legs on the counter, patiently waiting for him. 

"Thanks for getting all the ingredients out," Seonghwa laughs, pressing a kiss to his temple. Hongjoong wiggles happily. 

"Cookies!"

"You're such a baby," Seonghwa comments. Hongjoong shrugs, a wide smile on his face. 

Seonghwa double-checks the ingredients from the recipe he has memorized from the countless times he's made it, and washes his hands before he starts. Seonghwa dumps the sugar and butter into the large bowl and tries his best to mix them around, before adding in a pinch of salt for taste. When it's a decent enough paste, he holds the mixing bowl out to Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong pretends to crack the egg on his forehead, pulling a snort from Seonghwa, but he manages not to get any eggshells into the batter. 

"Do we have vanilla extract?" Seonghwa asks. He'd forgotten that one since they don't always add it, but it doesn't hurt to add it of course. 

Hongjoong blinks, looking thoughtful. "No, I think we ran out the last time we made cupcakes."

"Right, I forgot about that. Remind me to add it to the list?" 

Hongjoong hums, distracted by trying to weigh the flour and baking soda out. There'll probably be flour on the flour, but eh, it's just a bit of flour. He can clean it up easily. 

Seonghwa finishes folding the egg into the mixture, and Hongjoong instantly starts sifting the flour, although calling it sifting is being generous. Hongjoong's tongue pokes out his mouth as he shakes the flour in, and Seonghwa can't resist dipping his finger in the bowl to smear a streak across Hongjoong's cheek. 

Hongjoong yelps loudly, swerving to avoid it, which sends a cloud of flour flying up. Seonghwa splutters as he accidentally inhales some, waving his hand in front of his face to prevent further casualties. Hongjoong almost drops the sieve from how hard he's cackling. But when he laughs, his mouth opens, and he also gets a mouthful. 

Hongjoong chokes, still half-laughing, and almost topples off the counter if Seonghwa hadn't been there to support him. 

"Karma," Seonghwa says, booping his nose with a flour-covered finger. Hongjoong sneezes, and glares at him, his eyes starting to get watery. It makes Seonghwa burst into another round of laughter, and Hongjoong whines in protest, looking as if he has half a mind to chuck the sieve at Seonghwa. 

"Cookies!" he reminds to distract Seonghwa, waving the sieve as small petty revenge instead. 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes fondly and contemplates whether he should accidentally leave out the chocolate chips. He decides against it, since he does want cookies too, so he reaches to grab the spatula from where it's been hanging on the rack. 

"Lemme mix," Hongjoong demands like the brat he is, digging his heel into Seonghwa's hip when Seonghwa picks up the spatula. 

"Rude!" Seonghwa exclaims, even as he passes the bowl and spatula over before smacking his leg. He turns to put the whisk and sieve in the sink. "I'll grab the parchment paper while you mix. Please don't give yourself salmonella."

Hongjoong freezes, his hand already halfway to his mouth, a sizeable glob of cookie batter on it. 

When Seonghwa gives him a deadpan stare, he immediately pops it into his mouth, a gigantic grin spreading across his face. 

"Dumbass," Seonghwa says, reaching up to open the cupboards. Hongjoong giggles sweetly, balancing the bowl on his lap as he mixes. A cute concentrated look takes over his face as he struggles to mix the batter thoroughly. 

"Huh. It's not here," Seonghwa frowns, rummaging through the boxes. He shoves the plastic wrap and tinfoil boxes aside, peering into the darkness 

"You put it in the bottom cupboard last time," Hongjoong says. 

Seonghwa huffs out a laugh. "Couldn't you have told me that earlier?"

"It's fun messing with you."

Seonghwa shakes his head, kneeling to open the big cupboards. He sticks his head in, muttering a light spell since he can't be bothered to grab a flashlight. There are a lot of pots and pans in here, why did he place the parchment paper in here last time? Hongjoong starts humming above him, a song Seonghwa's all too familiar with. He sings along with Hongjoong under his breath, and these are the moments he lives for. Just Hongjoong. 

His fingers have just closed around the box of parchment paper when a scream pierces through the air, frightened and sharp. 

Seonghwa yelps when he jerks his head up and hits it against the edge. Hongjoong lets out an identical sound, pained and confused.

"Sorry, sorry," Seonghwa breathes, quickly standing up. 

"What's going on?" Hongjoong sets the bowl down on the counter and slides off it, yanking the sweater he's wearing back down from where it's been bunched up. Seonghwa puts the box down next to it and follows closely behind Hongjoong as he speeds to the windows.

The moment Hongjoong starts to pull the curtains aside, the same scream sounds, a lot closer than before. Seonghwa's skin prickles with anxiety and confusion. What the hell? And once again, his headache comes crawling back, slow, aching throbbing. Sometimes, he really hates his magic. 

"Hyungs!" is the following scream and Seonghwa's mind goes fucking haywire . It's San . Judging by how Hongjoong's face goes white as a sheet, he sees him. Why is San here? Why is he screaming? Seonghwa's mind goes through five million worst-case scenarios at once.

He runs to yank open the front door, Hongjoong right behind him to stop it from crashing into the wall. 

San's racing up the path, jolting with every step like his legs aren't working properly, like it hurts him to run. His face is blotchy with tears and his chest is heaving irregularly, and even from here, Seonghwa can hear his wheezing breaths. 

Just as he takes a step forward, hands reaching out to do something, anything , he doesn't know what, but he knows he wants San safely in his arms right now . 

He's just within arm's distance and Seonghwa can almost touch him when San gets yanked back, presumably by his shirt when the collar cuts into his neck. A choked cry slips out his mouth as he stumbles backward to not lose his footing.

"Hey!" Hongjoong shouts, striding forward. His husband's voice is dripping with hatred and venom, hands balled into fists so tightly his knuckles are paper-white. 

San lets out a sob as his head is yanked back, exposing the pale column of his neck to Seonghwa, his Adam's apple bobbing above the collar he hates. The man behind him has a leery smile and Seonghwa instantly feels hatred rip through him. This is the person who's been hurting San, Seonghwa knows this with a kind of certainty that twists in his chest. 

"So this is where you've been going all this time," the man's fingers must tighten in San's hair because he cries out again, more tears sliding down his cheeks. 

"Let him go," Seonghwa tries his best to keep his voice calm, so as to not aggravate this threat. He steps forward too, placing a hand on Hongjoong's shoulder as a brief form of reassurance. Hongjoong's frozen in place, practically vibrating with anger. There's magic crackling beneath his skin, electric and dangerous. Seonghwa understands him, he wants this disgusting man out of their wards this instant. It's really a pity there are no wards that keep out everyone with ill intentions, even if they know where it is. This man must have followed San, that's the only plausible reason. 

"He's my property."

"Property? Property?! " Hongjoong almost shrieks. In a flash, he's shoving the man, hard, by the way he's forced to let go of San and stumbles back.

Seonghwa rushes to catch San, the younger man collapsing into his arms. Seonghwa holds him tight, even when San's choked breathing shakes his tiny frame. 

"Hyung," he sobs, "Hyung hyung hyung ."

"Hyung's here," Seonghwa whispers, holding San close against his chest. San's fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and his legs give out under him.

He almost collapses, but Seonghwa sweeps him up bridal style, fighting back a shudder when he feels something sticky trickling down San's legs. Is San… was San… oh no. 

Seonghwa is a fucking fool to have not put together the dots earlier. It's so obvious now that he realizes. The touch aversion, the blood, the walking … it had been more than just abuse and Seonghwa is an idiot. How did he not fucking realize? He should have sensed it when he's healing San. Seonghwa failed them all - but he can't spiral now. No. Focus, Park Seonghwa. You need to help San.

Seonghwa blinks back the tears and murmurs a silencing spell under his breath to stop San from hearing the colorful obscenities Hongjoong is screaming, some of them curses he hasn’t heard in centuries. Seonghwa wants to scream too, but he doesn't have that luxury right now. He extends the silencing spell to the house, shielding that too.

A shielding spell on Hongjoong just in case the man tries anything, and a spell to open the door. Seonghwa clutches San close to his heart while he practically flies into the house and heads straight for the couch, the door shutting behind him. 

He tries to set San down on the couch so he can look at him, but San whimpers weakly, tightening his grip on Seonghwa's shirt. 

"No," he begs, voice barely above a whisper, "No. Please. "

"Sorry," Seonghwa breathes, his heart snapping to pieces, "Not going anywhere, I promise." He sits down himself, letting San curl into him. He holds San until his cries die down to raspy hiccups and sniffles. The entire while, he murmurs sweet nothings under his breath, nicknames galore, running his fingers gently through San's hair, matted with sweat and other substances Seonghwa dare not think about at this moment.

Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut the second he feels a sensation like someone punching his arm, a dull pain that fades away quickly. Hongjoong should be safe enough with his own magic and Seonghwa's shield, so Seonghwa doesn't think twice before temporarily severing their connection. A cold shudder runs up his spine, and it feels like a piece of him is missing, but it's a small price to pay to be able to focus solely on San.

"Sannie," he starts softly, "Oh. My Sannie."

San squeezes his eyes shut. "Hyung. It hurts."

"Where, baby?"

"I'm dirty," he whimpers, "I'm dirty. I'm sorry."

"No. No. Don't be sorry. Where does it hurt?" Seonghwa's heart aches at how vulnerable San is. He's not dirty. It's not his fault. Never.

San's breath hitches. "Down-"

Seonghwa waits for him to say it, still carding through his hair. Waiting for him to say it at his own time. 

"Down there," San whispers, and then he's burying his head into Seonghwa's chest. For Seonghwa, that's good enough. His brave, brave boy. 

"Can hyung see?" Seonghwa says quietly. "Only if you'll let me. Hyung will try to help you."

"Please," San says, his voice broken and cracked.

"Thank you," Seonghwa cups his cheek, gently stroking it, "You'll have to let go of me first though. I promise I'll be gentle."

San lets out shuddering breaths that shake his entire frame, and Seonghwa keeps stroking his cheek until San's fingers loosen. 

"You're doing so well, sweetheart, thank you."

San whimpers before he finally lets go of Seonghwa's shirt, curling his arms around his own torso instead. Seonghwa gently lifts San off him to place him down on the sofa, and he sinks down to kneel between his legs so he's at eye level with San.

"Is this okay?" He asks, not touching San just yet. 

San nods, watching him warily, his eyes following every movement. Sweet, sweet San, once so comfortable around Seonghwa, is frightened of him, and Seonghwa squashes down his anger for another time. San doesn't need that right now. He needs Seonghwa to be someone he can trust, someone that's steady and safe . 

"Can hyung touch? Can I look?"

San nods again.

"You can look away if you want to."

"No," San slurs out, so quickly it's almost illegible. "No, need t- need to know 's you."

"Whatever you're comfortable with," Seonghwa reassures him, and places his hand on San's thigh. San trembles under his touch, but nods a third time, seeming to understand that Seonghwa is looking for his go-ahead. Seonghwa reaches for the hem of San's sorry excuse for a shirt, and looks up at him once again, a question in his eyes. San exhales shakily, tears filling up his eyes.

"We can stop anytime," Seonghwa promises.

"Okay," San whispers, "Okay."

Seonghwa gives him a reassuring smile, even though he's afraid it looks pained. Then he starts hiking up San's shirt, letting his magic reach forward first. 

His thighs are streaked with red and white, and underneath all that are purple marks. And San's bleeding from behind, blood slowly dripping onto the couch, and Seonghwa curses himself mentally for not noticing sooner.  

Seonghwa's usually never been one for vengeance, but this time, he wants nothing worse than to hurt whoever did this to San. 

This, this is inhumane, this is cruel . San is a child!

He lets the pink mist wrap around San, and San's responding painless sigh almost makes Seonghwa burst into tears. San slowly sinks into the sofa, none of his earlier stiffness that must have been from the pain. 

Seonghwa can't heal soreness. 

He reaches up instead, takes the tag on the collar between his fingers. "Do you want to take this off?"

"No!" San almost yells, and his eyes immediately widen. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"

"No, if you want to keep it on, you can. You make all the decisions here baby."

"No, you can't- can't take it off. I don't- don't want you to…get hurt," San's voice grows fainter and fainter. 

"It can't hurt me," Seonghwa reassures him. He's lying. He doesn't know whether it will, but he's going to try anyway. 

"Promise?" San sounds so scared for him. Oh San. He's the one being hurt and his heart is still so, so kind. 

Seonghwa offers him a smile, sticking his pinky out. "Pinky promise." Pinky promises that he's not going to get hurt. If it makes San happy, he'll be careful. 

San gasps, his eyes lighting up like a kid at a candy store, although it's a lot duller than it had been the past week. There's no hesitation when he links their pinkies with a kind of childish joy, precious and innocent. 

Carefully, Seonghwa hovers his fingers near the collar's clasp at the back of San's neck, trying to detect any dark magic. 

To his relief, these are easy curses to undo. They come apart at the first hints of light magic, and Seonghwa hurries to undo the clasp. The collar falls into Seonghwa's hands. He holds it gingerly by the tag, the engraving melting under his fingers, which are smoldering with the anger he can't contain. A small bit of him wonders how the man got ahold of a magical collar - he's definitely not of magical origin. 

"What do you want me to do with it?" 

San's eyes fill with tears again. "Thank you," he breathes, not answering.

Seonghwa feels a rush of hatred towards this collar. When he shakes it, he can feel another spell that's not quite a curse, and not on the clasp, which explains why it hasn't been destroyed. It's a shock collar, that's the best way to sum it up. No wonder San comes here all the time - that spell wouldn't work inside Hongjoong's wards. 

"Can I destroy it?"

San nods, almost eagerly. 

The collar instantly crumbles to dust, Seonghwa's sick satisfaction winding around him in waves. A bit of something to ease his anger. Fuck you , he mentally curses. Fuck this collar . 

"Baby," Seonghwa starts again, eyeing San's matted hair, "Let me bathe you?" 

San's eyes widen and he shrinks into himself. "What?"

Oh, what did they make this poor boy do ?

Baby steps , Seonghwa repeats what Hongjoong constantly says to them, You must be patient. 

"Me and Joong have a bathtub in one of the bathrooms," Seonghwa forges on, "You can take a bath by yourself, or I can help wash you off."

"Don't hurt me," San pleads, "Hyung, you- you won't. Right?"

"No. Never. I swear it." Seonghwa would swear on his love for Hongjoong to never hurt San. 

San hesitates, his eyes trembling. "Okay," he says after a while, like he's placing his heart in Seonghwa's hands, trusting him not to crush it to pieces. 

"Thank you for trusting me," Seonghwa says honestly, "Would you like me to carry you?"

San's lip wobbles, but he nods. Seonghwa lets the shirt fall back to cover San, but before he can properly pick San up, San clambers into his arms, tucking his face into Seonghwa's neck. 

Seonghwa wraps his arms around him like he can shield him from this cruel world and sighs softly, planting a gentle kiss onto his temple, barely there but there nonetheless. Seonghwa’s faintly aware of San's bottom half when he heads to the bathroom, mentally thanking the gods that the bathtub is on the first floor. He doesn't think the jolting while walking upstairs would be a good thing. 

Seonghwa floats a fluffy towel atop the closed toilet seat, setting San down afterward. He then summons the other towels, the softest ones they have (pink in color so they can differentiate between them), and hangs them on the racks. 

"Do you want me to stay?"

San immediately nods, hands reaching out for Seonghwa. Seonghwa laces their fingers together, squeezing them slightly.

"Do you want me to lock the door?" 

"Can you?"

Seonghwa immediately locks it, hoping Hongjoong understands. "Sit here, sweet. I'll run the bath."

San lets go of Seonghwa's hands, although he seems reluctant to do so. Seonghwa gives him a smile. 

He reaches over for the tap, turning it to the warm setting, and lets the water flow before he leans down and plugs the drain. Seonghwa can feel San's eyes on him when he leaves the bath running to rummage in the cupboard behind the mirror. If he remembers correctly, Hongjoong has a rack of vials in here for emergencies, and some more in the first-aid kit. He takes three vials out and holds them out to show San.

"Coral pink is healing, teal for energy replenishment, white for light magic," he informs him before pouring them into the bathtub one after the other. 

Switching off the tap, he dips his fingers into the water and hums when it's a good temperature. Not too hot.

"You can take off your shirt and get in now," Seonghwa says, backing away to give San space. San's gaze flickers between the tub, the floor, and Seonghwa, before he reaches to pull the shirt over his head. 

Seonghwa curls his hand into a fist and feels his nails digging into his palm. Oh, San. He fights back tears while he scans San's body, and swears to whatever higher power there might be that he will do everything and anything in his power to make sure San is never hurt again. 

San wobbles to his feet, keeping his eyes on his feet. Seonghwa supports him while San lowers into the bath, his worry San would stumble more than the worry that San might panic at the moment. 

San's expression is more peaceful and less pained than Seonghwa had ever seen him the moment he sinks to sit at the bottom. The tub is just the perfect height for him, the walls just high enough to reach his cheeks.

"Comfortable, baby?" Seonghwa asks him, kneeling down beside the tub. 

San sniffles quietly, barely audible, and nods. 

"Come rest your head here," Seonfhwa instructs, patting the side of the tub, "Let me wash your hair?" 

The look San gives him makes Seonghwa's heart pang, but San slowly lets his head fall to rest against the side of the bathtub.

Seonghwa rakes his fingers through the matted strands, trying his best to smooth through it before he wets it. It's not entirely successful, the substance in his hair long dried. He summons a basin in front of him to collect the water before he plucks the showerhead from its holder on the side, testing the spray to make sure it's not too powerful before he rinses through San's hair. 

Seonghwa doesn't dare look at the color of the water streaming into the basin as he gently rubs at San's scalp. Soon, the pitter-patter of the water is the only sound in the room, rhythmic and calm. Seonghwa feels himself relaxing when he goes through the familiar motions of shampooing, rinsing, and conditioning. He makes sure to keep his touches delicate and gentle. 

This is something he's familiar with. Something he knows how to do. Seonghwa lets himself bask in this moment of peace, running his fingers through San's now cleaner hair. 

Hongjoong stumbles back when the man lands a punch on his arm, it surprises him so much he stops yelling, even though it really shouldn't have. One, obviously this man is cruel and violent. Two, Hongjoong pushed him first. It doesn't hurt, more of a dull sensation, which confuses a tiny part of him, since it doesn't feel like this normally, even with his improved pain tolerance. 

The same instant, a cold shudder runs down his spine.

Seonghwa cut their connection. He hasn't been separated from Seonghwa since they've been married, no, even longer before. The sudden feeling stuns him, entirely unused to not feeling Seonghwa's presence in his mind. His body seems different, heavier, the voices in his head louder. 

In the brief moment it takes for Hongjoong to regain his composure, the man leaps at him, knocking them both to the ground. Hongjoong's head doesn't smack into the floor like it would have, the same part of him questioning it, it's almost like he's hitting his head against a pillow instead.

"What is wrong with you?" he roars, flecks of spittle landing on Hongjoong's face. He barely feels them, because less than a millimeter from his skin, they're sliding off an invisible shield. And he understands now.

Seonghwa must have cast a shielding spell on him. His wonderful wife. Hongjoong fucking loves him so much. But he'll thank Seonghwa later. Right now, he has more pressing matters. 

When the man raises a fist to land a punch on Hongjoong, Hongjoong yells out, shoving him off him. Energy crackles beneath his skin, furious and fiery. This man hurt San. This man hurt someone he cares for. This filthy pile of shit .

His box of angry emotions, packed away neatly in the back of his mind, bursts open, the lock on it shattering to bits. It manifests into blue mist swirling around his hands, curled into fists when he gets up and faces the man head-on. 

The man pales, visibly terrified and looking five seconds away from wetting his pants at the mere glimpse of magic, even though he must know San is a shifter. But then his face hardens. His eyes turn steely, a foolish resolve he must have made. 

"Of course. You're another one of them freaks," he spits. "No wonder the slut comes here."

"Don't call him a slut," Hongjoong snarls, taking a warning step forward. You're only going to scare him away , the voice of reason in his head chants, Seonghwa's voice, even though it's not actually him, You just want him to leave and never come back.

Yes. Hongjoong wants that. Never wants to see this vile, disgusting, sorry excuse of a person to be within fifty miles of their San. 

"But he is one," he goads, "Takes cock like a wonder, always begging for it. Does he spread his legs for you two, the who-"

Hongjoong sees red, red, red . The color of blood tints his vision, with silver and blue blurring the edges. 

San never fucking wanted it. A fucking blind man could see it. He doesn't even realize he'd been holding himself back, refusing to let his magic take control, but it snaps like a rubber band, and Hongjoong explodes. 

He doesn't remember it. Doesn't know what's happening or what's happened. 

When he comes too, he's on his hands and knees, breathing heavily, almost panting. It hurts to breathe. His head's spinning and he feels mildly sick. Seonghwa still isn't back. He feels like he's been doing exercises for an entire day, his limbs feeling like lead.

He takes a moment to collect himself, gently trying to let himself be grounded by the feeling of pavement under his fingers.

His hands are covered in blood. That's the first thing he sees when his sight focuses. Hongjoong sinks back to sit on his heels, slowly, disbelieving, lifting his hands up to check.

They leave bloody handprints on the pavement. 

A heavier wave of nausea washes over him, a sick, twisted feeling settling deep in his gut. Filled with dread, he lifts his head reluctantly to check the damage he's done. 

There's blood splattered everywhere. The corpse - it has to be a corpse because Hongjoong is not injured and no human could survive this much blood loss - is just at the border of the wards. Any farther and it'll be out in the open for everyone to see. 

He killed someone. 

Hongjoong killed someone. 

Oh, what has he done? 

Hongjoong lurches to his feet, stumbling towards the house like a toddler who just learned how to walk. He needs Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Seonghwa. The final shreds of reason in him reach out for Seonghwa's pretty, strawberry-scented, lavender-colored consciousness. The door flies open before he touches it, but Hongjoong doesn't notice. The haze in his eyes only lifts slightly when he feels Seonghwa's warm presence settle back in his mind, a soft kind of serenity. 

Love, I'm in the bathroom- what happened to you?! 

Seonghwa. is all Hongjoong can say brokenly. 

Stay where you are, okay? Hyung's coming, prince. 

Sluggishly, Hongjoong nods. 

Hongjoong's not okay, Seonghwa can feel that, and he's really worried, teetering on the edge of panic. What could the man have done to him, to make it past his shielding spell and Hongjoong's own defenses? Hongjoong's presence is radiating waves of distress, and Seonghwa needs to be there for him immediately. 

But he can't just ditch San, so as much as he hates to disturb him, who'd been so comfortable he'd fallen asleep, Seonghwa will have to wake him. 

"Hey Sannie," he says quietly, patting his cheek. San stirs, a half-asleep noise falling from his mouth. "Did you have a nice nap, sweetheart?"

San hums sleepily, still not fully coherent yet. Seonghwa forges on regardless, because he doesn't want to drag this on for longer than it needs to be. He loves San, yes, but nobody can compare to Hongjoong. 

"I'm done washing your hair, so you can sit here for as long as you like. Use the body wash here, this one," Seonghwa taps said bottle on the side, "When you need to get out. The towels are on the racks, and grab whatever you want from the pile of clothes in the small wardrobe." Seonghwa ruffles his hair, pressing a kiss to his wet temple. "You got that, lovely?"

"Body wash, towels, clothes," San repeats, his words slurred together. 

"Thank you, sweet boy," Seonghwa gives him a final pat on the head before standing up. He lets himself stand there for one more second, just to make sure San will be okay, but then he's walking out of the bathroom. 

Not running, but quick. Hongjoong needs him to be the steady one right now.  

Seonghwa can't help the gasp that escapes him when he spots Hongjoong, standing in the middle of the living room and swaying slightly. He's covered in splatters of blood, spots that don't look dry on his sweater. There's a look in his eyes that terrifies Seonghwa, looking half panicked, and half dazed. 

Hongjoong's glassy eyes turn to land on Seonghwa, the slow movement making his worry spike, and Hongjoong's face crumples. Seonghwa rushes to wrap him in a tight hug, pressing every inch of their bodies together as much as he can. His heart races when Hongjoong squeezes him back, probably leaving bloody handprints on the back of his shirt, but he can't find it in him to care. 

"My prince, my wonderful prince," Seonghwa murmurs, rocking them slowly, tamping his frantic emotions down and letting his love, worry, and care for Hongjoong take the wheel. A choked sob answers him. "My Hongjoongie. Oh, love." 

Hongjoong buries his face into Seonghwa's shirt, and Seonghwa puts a hand on the back of his head, stroking it with his thumb. Hongjoong stiffens beneath him, and although not a single sound comes out, Seonghwa hears his scream. 

It's pained, full of fury and anger, but also terrified, dripping with horror and disgust and self-hatred. Hongjoong screams and screams and screams, and Seonghwa's heart shatters at how he can't do anything but hold him close and press kisses across his head. 

Hongjoong presses his face harder into Seonghwa at the same time his nails dig into Seonghwa's back, but Seonghwa keeps his mouth shut and lets him.

"My prince," he repeats, over and over like a broken record, "You're safe, you're okay. Hyung's here, hyung's not going anywhere. Hyung's okay. You're okay. Nobody can hurt us."

While Hongjoong's silently screaming, Seonghwa takes the time to give him a once over. Hongjoong's not hurt, physically at least. Seonghwa didn't feel any wounds if he does have any, which would be as worrying as the world ending. So the blood isn't his. Seonghwa lets his magic crawl further, reaching out for the source. The closer he is to a person, mentally-wise, not proximity-wise, the easier it is to feel. The only people he's let into his heart in this town are San and Hongjoong, so they're not the source of the blood. He would have felt it much sooner. And- oh. 

There's a body in the front yard. No heartbeat, pulse, or warmth. No wonder Hongjoong's like this. Seonghwa suppresses a shudder, he's not much better with corpses himself - they bring back unwanted memories for both of them. As for whose corpse it is… Seonghwa can take a wild guess. There's only a tiny bit of guilt at not being disgusted and the thought in his head that whispers the man deserved it. 

Seonghwa's not a saint. Will never claim he is one. 

"Joong-yah," Seonghwa murmurs when Hongjoong slumps against him, like everything has been drained out of him. "What happened?"

"I-" Hongjoong exhales shakily. To Seonghwa, he feels anxious, jittery. "You're not mad." He says it in a way that makes it seem like Seonghwa knows what he did. Which Seonghwa does. Well, partly, at least. 

Seonghwa sighs. "I'm not," he confirms, "I just want to know what happened."

"I lost control," Hongjoong whispers, the words hanging heavy in the air, "I lost control, and when I got back, he was… was…"

"Already dead," Seonghwa supplies, seeing how Hongjoong's struggling to get his words out. 

"I- I didn't check, but Seonghwa, there's no way he- I killed him!" Hongjoong cries out, "I killed someone!" Hongjoong's breathing is speeding up, and Seonghwa can see him working himself into hysterics. 

"Love," Seonghwa says firmly, "Hongjoong." He gently pushes Hongjoong away slightly, so he can cup a hand along his jaw and tilt Hongjoong's head up, forcing him to make eye contact. 

"Breathe, prince." 

Hongjoong draws in a shuddering breath. "Now exhale." He listens.

"Good boy, baby. Listen to me okay? It's alright. It's not your fault," Seonghwa strokes his thumb over Hongjoong's cheek. No matter what the specifics are, he knows fully that it could never have been Hongjoong's fault. His husband hates hurting anyone, even the most vile of creatures. Can't stand seeing pain and suffering. He might taunt a little, provoke, but never maim. If he does, then it's in self-defense. Whatever the man said… it must have been bad . 

"I killed him Hwa," Hongjoong whispers, staring at him with large, teary eyes. "It doesn't matter he was a piece of shit, I killed him."

Seonghwa definitely thinks he deserves to die. And so does Hongjoong for the matter. But they're not going to say it. 

"It's not your fault," Seonghwa says instead, insistent, "I know you wouldn't lose control for no reason, we both know that. Something else happened, and that made you lose control. I don't need you to tell me what it was, but it’s not your fault.”

Hongjoong’s lip wobbles. 

“I’m going to clean up the body, and then it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Okay? That bitch doesn’t deserve your tears. Everything’s going to be just fine . We’ve been through this, we can do it again.”

They hold eye contact for a beat, maybe two, and Seonghwa tries to look reassuring, safe . Everything will be just fine. If he believes it, Hongjoong will too. 

"Okay," Hongjoong says finally, tearing his eyes away. "You promise?"

He's so much like San, Seonghwa realizes, they're more alike than they look on the surface. 

"I promise," Seonghwa says, and means every word. He leans down to press a soft kiss to Hongjoong's lips, his husband's chapped and starting to crack. Seonghwa watches through half-lidded eyes as Hongjoong's eyes flutter shut, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothing out and his face relaxing. 

Hongjoong makes a small noise of protest when Seonghwa pulls away, and Seonghwa giggles, kissing the tip of his nose. "Go upstairs and take a shower, okay baby? San's in ours."

"Okay," Hongjoong repeats, slowly drawing away from Seonghwa like he's unwilling to let go. He lets his hand linger in Seonghwa's, only releasing it and walking away when Seonghwa squeezes his hand. 

"Don't put your clothes in the laundry bin!" Seonghwa calls after him, "I've got to wash the stains out."

Hongjoong nods as he disappears up the stairs. 

Seonghwa then turns to face the front door. He lets out a huff and plants his hands on his hips. Guess he's got a body to dispose of. 

Seonghwa hums as he scrapes the last of the batter onto the parchment paper, twelve circles evenly distributed. He makes sure to sprinkle an abundance of chocolate chips onto half of them, leaving the other half with a normal amount of chocolate chips. Hongjoong has too big of a sweet tooth for Seonghwa to keep up with. 

He's just put them into the oven when he hears shuffling behind him, and he smiles softly. Arms wrap around his waist, and Hongjoong rests his head on Seonghwa's shoulder, his wet hair dripping onto Seonghwa's neck and the fresh, blood-less shirt he's changed into.

"Cookies," Hongjoong mumbles, sounding tired.

"That's right, darling," Seonghwa pats his hand, "I just put them in the oven. We can eat them later - meanwhile, why don't you take a nap?"

Hongjoong huffs. "I don't wanna. No more naps."

"Take a potion for your headache then, love," Seonghwa says, turning around in Hongjoong's arms. Hongjoong buries his face into his collar, Seonghwa delicately brushing his damp hair away. He reaches behind himself to grab one of the vials on the condiments shelf (they put one there for sick recipes), tapping it lightly against Hongjoong's cheek.

Hongjoong pouts, although he does accept the vial, quickly drinking it and blindly putting it somewhere on the counter. Seonghwa sighs fondly, content in this moment.

"You cleaned up?" Hongjoong says quietly.

"I cleaned up," Seonghwa confirms, "Forget it happened, love." Hongjoong nods. I'll try . 

Hongjoong presses his face into Seonghwa's neck, and Seonghwa closes his eyes, letting his cheek rest against Hongjoong's hair. They breathe in tandem, a kind of peace that's purely them. 

Seonghwa looks up when he hears another set of shuffling footsteps, but doesn’t release his hold on Hongjoong. San stands there nervously, dressed in one of Seonghwa's plain grey shirts that hangs on his skinny ( malnourished , Seonghwa's brain helpfully whispers) frame, not unlike the white one he had been wearing. Seonghwa doesn't think he's wearing shorts either, and so he asks. 

"Darling, are you going to wear shorts or anything?"

"I'm allowed?" San asks, weak and quiet. Fuck, Seonghwa is so happy that man is dead now. 

"Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be?"

San fiddles with the hem, gaze fixated on his fingers and not looking up. "Easy access."

Hongjoong stiffens under Seonghwa's touch, and Seonghwa squeezes his hand to calm him down, lest he says something rashly. 

"No sweetheart, you can wear shorts. There should be a pack of unopened underwear in one of the drawers in our room, so you can grab that, okay?"

San hesitates.

"It's the room the bathroom is in," Seonghwa prompts, and San, still looking unsure, pads back the direction he came from.

Seonghwa watches him go, sadness seeping into his core. He drops his hand to Hongjoong's hip, rubbing circles with his thumb. "What are you thinking?" Because Hongjoong has that scowling tilt to his lips. 

"I'm angry ," Hongjoong stresses. He doesn't elaborate, and Seonghwa doesn't think he needs to. He thumbs Hongjoong's hourglass tattoo, and bites his lip.

"Good thing San's staying with us then," Seonghwa says, "You agree?"

"Never letting him go," Hongjoong swears, "No."

"Glad we're in agreement," Seonghwa murmurs. "Where do you want to live then, because you know we're not staying? Back to the city? Or another quaint town?"

"Should we go visit Chan? We could take San to him. Chan would adore him, I bet." Bang Chan, one of the best healers/medics they know, located in Australia with his pretty blonde-haired boyfriend Felix, and their best friend Sana with chocolate-colored eyes.

"Felix would love San," Seonghwa laughs, remembering the blonde-haired baker and his blatant adoration for cute things, like tiny mushroom earrings, the elf who lived opposite their apartment, and cute cuddly animals like San. "I was going to mail him for advice anyway. You wanna try living the Aussie life?"

"It's going to be so hot, but yeah. It'll be nice to have some familiar faces, and not just neighbors we barely see."

"That is true," Seonghwa says absentmindedly, finger wandering towards the star in the crook of Hongjoong's elbow today, "So we can relocate to Australia and let Chan take care of San?"

A loud thunk startles both of them, Hongjoong flinching in Seonghwa's arms and Seonghwa's head jerking up. San stands there, eyes wide, his back pressed flat against the wall beside the door. 

"Sannie, you okay? Did you just walk into the wall?"

San's voice quavers when he speaks up, fingers trembling against the thin rope around the waistband of one of Seonghwa's sweats. "Where are you taking me? Who- who are you talking about?"

Seonghwa reminds himself that San's been through some traumatizing things and that he really should watch his word choice. Hongjoong swears under his breath (Seonghwa curses mentally), squirming around in Seonghwa's arms to face San. "Bad word choice, I apologize. We're not gonna be staying here, and we've got a friend - Chan - in Australia, and he's a healer like Seonghwa."

"He's way more proficient than me," Seonghwa adds, "He's been alive way longer and creates his own spells. He might be able to help more."

San sags back against the wall, relief seeping into his features."I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry darling," Seonghwa says, the words tinged with sadness that taste bittersweet, "Come here - hug?"

San takes a step forward, slowly, then he takes another, and another, before he's practically flying into Seonghwa's arms. Seonghwa wraps one arm around San, keeping the other around Hongjoong. He holds San tight, as tight as he can. 

His own star pulses warmly when Hongjoong's leg brushes against his and he swears, swears on all the constellations, that he'll protect them. San's family now. Has been for a while, even if Seonghwa's never labelled the feeling. And there's a place for him here, and in Seonghwa's heart, right beside Hongjoong. 

The oven chimes, and Seonghwa regretfully detaches himself from both of them once the alarm rings for too long that it starts to get annoying. He rests his cheek on his fist, nibbling a cookie as he watches the others sitting across him devour the plate. Seonghwa snickers when he reaches over to swipe a smudge of chocolate from the corner of Hongjoong's lips, licking the chocolate off afterward. 

He could get used to this. Even if they've been doing it for  a while already. 

"Sannie," Seonghwa calls quietly that night, careful not to wake Hongjoong bundled into his side, as he watches San curl up into a cat ball on the floor next to their bed. San's head perks up, eyes glimmering in the darkness. 

"C'mere." He pats the side of his bed, the empty spaces in their king-sized bed too big for two lovers. San immediately jumps up, curling up again, but looking at Seonghwa attentively. 

Seonghwa unwinds one arm from Hongjoong to roll on his back, feeling Hongjoong curl closer into his side, squashing the blood flow in Seonghwa's arm. He gently strokes San's head, a happy little purr erupting from San's throat. Seonghwa scratches behind his ears and under his chin, and San starts making biscuits, purring contentedly.

"How do you feel about living with us?" Seonghwa asks mid-pet, trying to ease San into the idea gently. San stills, blinking at him again. 

Seonghwa might not be able to talk to animals, but he can hear San's trembling question of why ?

"You don't have anywhere to go." Seonghwa doesn't beat around the bush, simply states it as a fact, even when San bristles. "Hongjoong and I like having you around. It's like you've been living with us anyway, the only thing that will change is you'll have your own stuff." 

San's tail flicks uneasily, showing he's still unsure about the idea, but his fur stops bristling. Seonghwa continues stroking his head until he blinks, and he's stroking San's hair instead. He simply blinks again, smiling softly. 

San's still curled up, but his head tilts up to make eye contact with Seonghwa. "I don't have to… go h- go back?"

San sounds so small, so timid, Seonghwa's smile trembles.

"No."

"He's dead." San, like Seonghwa, states it as a fact, staring wide and unblinking. 

"He's dead," Seonghwa says, finding it useless to lie, San deserves the truth. "He can't hurt you anymore." His hand trails down to rub circles into San's shoulder blades, feeling the muscles tense up before he relaxes. 

"You killed him?" San asks, and Seonghwa's heart stops, his hand freezes on San's back. Had he been that obvious? 

"I smelled the blood," San quickly adds on, "I'm not- I don't-" I'm not angry is what it sounds like. "I just…" San shrugs best he can, trailing off to indicate his confusion. 

Seonghwa understands that, even if he doesn't exactly know how it feels. Emotions are so unnecessarily complicated sometimes. Especially when this is someone who San's been with for a while, and maybe even loved once, Seonghwa guesses. That, that Seonghwa can empathize with. 

He makes up his mind to never ask San what exactly happened this morning to finally make him run away. No, San doesn't have to relive it, doesn't have to tell him if he doesn't want to. 

Seonghwa sighs, thumbing San's cheekbone. "Yes. But please don't bring it up near Joongie. Murder is not a fun topic."

"Mhm," San hums. A pause. "Thank you."

"We just did what anyone would do. Maybe not murder. But otherwise, yeah. Hongjoong and I would love for you to stay with us. You can stay as long as you want to."

"But you said you're leaving."

"Relocating to Australia. For the time being, since I don't particularly enjoy being near a crime scene, even if nobody knows. And I haven't seen Chan hyung in decades," Seonghwa laughs, "His boyfriend will adore you, and I'm not exaggerating."

San's lips part slightly and then close, like he wants to say something but decides against it. Seonghwa pats his cheek. "What is it?"

"Can you… can you tell me about them?" San asks timidly.

"Sure! What do you want to know?"

"Anything?"

"Well, Chan hyung is a witch, and he's very, very old. Sometimes, he was like my dad. And his boyfriend, who I honestly have no idea what he is, is called Felix. And he's super, super sweet…"

Seonghwa talks until his mouth is dry, telling San about healer Bang Chan, baker Felix, and potioneer Sana. Tells him about how he met Chan; about the time Felix accidentally made a stack of brownies a mile high; about Sana and her tendency to explode experiments; about Australia and the witch population. 

It doesn't take long before San is blinking drowsily, the time he keeps his eyes open shorter and shorter. Seonghwa keeps talking, brushing back San's hair as he describes human sunshines Sana and Felix. When Seonghwa tells him about the kitten Felix once had, San's eyes stay shut, and Seonghwa's heart softens to mush. He stops talking then, watches San breathe, and he lets sleep take over to the feeling of prickling from Hongjoong's head on his arm.

Seonghwa is able to repack all their belongings relatively quickly, most of them still in their boxes. It's a strange occurrence, since Seonghwa's never been one to leave things unpacked, usually jumping straight to decorating after moving in. Maybe he predicted this? It's weird, but Hongjoong's not gonna question it. It's more convenient anyway. 

While they're finding the final pairs of socks and things, San patters around their feet, being incredibly helpful by nipping at their ankles. He's so cute. 

Hongjoong sends Chan a letter to notify him about their arrival and San tries to catch the poor delivery moth before Hongjoong holds him back. Chan sends him a letter back almost immediately, telling them there's an empty house right next door that's been abandoned for a while if they would like it, and Hongjoong replies with an affirmation. 

Seonghwa has the most trouble with trying to pack his easel and canvases away, since those things are huge for some reason, so Hongjoong decides to do something else to occupy himself. 

"San-yah?" he calls, poking his head into Seonghwa's studio, where his wife is trying to shove a huge white board into the fabric rip. San's perched on his stool, watching with his head tilted. 

San looks at him, while Seonghwa doesn't even glance over, his face scrunched in concentration.

"Is there anything you need from…?" he trails off, hoping San understands. He's not sure if San has any possessions at all, but he's not been out of the wards since that day, so he wouldn't have any chance to grab them. 

San's tail flicks. 

Hongjoong tilts his head to imitate San. Oh, so there is something. San's ears flatten slightly. Hongjoong sighs softly, walking over and scratching behind San's ears. 

"What is it? I'm going to go and get everything you need while Hwa does…" Seonghwa's muscles are straining while he tries to shove a second canvas in and Hongjoong is not getting distracted. "Whatever that is."

"Shush, babe," Seonghwa says absentmindedly. 

San's legs swing nervously as he turns back into his human form, pushing his head lightly against Hongjoong's hand. "There's… um," he whispers. "Shiber."

"Hm?"

"My… Shiber is- my plushie." San looks down, as if embarrassed.

"A plush toy? That's good. Anything else?" 

"You'd get him for me?" 

Hongjoong stares at him in disbelief, an ugly feeling twisting in his chest. "Of course I would! Why would I have asked otherwise?"

San shrugs, still not meeting Hongjoong's eyes. Hongjoong swallows his emotions when Seonghwa's presence flashes him a warning. 

Baby.

"Anything else?" he repeats, fighting to keep his voice steady and neutral, "Clothes, or?"

San shakes his head. "I don't…"

Don't know? Or don't have anything? 

"Okay," Hongjoong forces out, "I'll get him for you." Then he's fleeing, the fact that he's acting obviously weird escaping his mind. 

Hongjoong looks up at the three-story house, and wonders how much of a prison it was. It doesn't look particularly out of place, somewhere you would pass by and not think about twice. He wonders what horrors have the walls seen. 

He shoves his hands into his coat pockets - today he's trying to dress inconspicuously, so no colorful outfits, but boring greys instead. His hair is also temporarily black and it makes him squirmy inside. 

Hongjoong exhales, drinking his shielding potion and waiting for the telltale flash of white before heading into the building. 

The knot in his stomach loosens the slightest bit when the interior looks exactly what a modern house would look like. It's better than he had expected, that San hadn't been living in shit conditions, but Hongjoong has an inkling that it's not more than a glorified cage. He pulls the potion he brewed long ago that he never got a use for, a locator, out of his coat. The mint-coloured mist swirls around him at first when he pulls the stopper, before dispersing. A trail of mist the color of tangerines appears at his feet, winding towards the stairs and disappearing upstairs. 

Following the trail shows him a normal house, even one that Seonghwa and Hongjoong might have lived in if not for the difference in interior design. But on top of that, the house feels… cold. Like there's never been life in it. 

The trail leads him to find the plush - Shiber - shoved into the bottom of a closet under a bunch of sweaters in a bedroom. Hongjoong stares at it for a second. It's a cute little shiba inu plush, parts of it looking worse for wear, either from being well-loved, or well-hated. The way it's under the sweaters makes him think someone had been trying to hide it. 

Well. No use wondering, dwelling on the past only causes nothing but headaches. He tucks the plush safely under his arm, but once outside the bedroom, he chances a glance around. 

He probably shouldn't snoop. 

But… who's to stop him? 

Not the ghost, that’s for sure.

If Hongjoong leaves the house with magical items weighing down his coat - things that either look stolen or dangerous, and a pile of crystals for Seonghwa because he mentioned wanting to try it out, then that’s for them to know only. 

If a few rooms accidentally get set ablaze, well, nobody has to know. It’s not like anyone will need them, not if you’re a good person. 

No good person would need whips. Or knives. 

Seonghwa did say arson is okay. 

Watching San reunite with Shiber is the most precious thing Hongjoong's seen in a while, with San squeezing it so tight it almost goes flat. 

Hongjoong almost gets knocked flat on his back the moment he walks through the front door with Shiber under his arm by how San practically jumps at him. 

San doesn't release his hold on Shiber the whole day, and neither of them ask him to. 

At nightfall, Hongjoong writes a couple letters to Namjoon for him to collect the dangerous objects, which the older witch will probably run an investigation on. Seonghwa reminds him to warn Namjoon about them leaving for Australia, but the scene will be here. Hongjoong tries to give the crystals to his wife, but Seonghwa refuses, saying he'd rather get his own, than use anything from there. Those crystals will go to Namjoon too, and soon they won't be their problem anymore. 

“Hwa.” 

Seonghwa looks up from the stove, lowering the heat in his pot. He keep stirring, although he hums to indicate he’s listening. A quick glance over shows Hongjoong leaning against the counter and fiddling with his ring, spinning it round and round his finger. He worries his bottom lip, but the look in his eyes is steady and determined when he meets Seonghwa’s gaze. 

“I wanna make San our familiar,” he says, and he seems so nervous when he says it. 

Seonghwa can’t help the fond smile that spreads across his face, even as he turns back to his macaroni cheese so it doesn’t burn. 

“Okay,” he says softly, to ease Hongjoong’s worries. “We can do that. Have you asked him?”

Hongjoong beams then, all his nervous energy disappearing in the blink of an eye. “No. Wanted to ask you first.” WIthout Seonghwa having to ask him, he turns around to grab the three bowls on the table, holding them out for Seonghwa to scoop the food into them. 

“You know I’d say yes,” Seonghwa replies, “I wouldn’t mind eternity like this.” He puts the now-empty pot back onto the stove and turns it off. 

“I wasn’t sure.” Hongjoong slides the bowls back on the table, and he makes a tiny noise of protest when Seonghwa places a kiss on his temple, but doesn’t do anything to back it up. “It’s a commitment.”

“He’s basically our familiar already. And you know he doesn’t have to be one of those who help you with everything. You’re just doing surface-level soul-bonding, right?” 

“I guess.”

“Is this our first adoption?” Seonghwa jokes, “Is San our kid now?” It’s a running joke with most of the witches that your first familiar is your first adoption - first child. It’s especially funny when you have people like Taeyong, who Seonghwa has no clue how he adopted over twenty people. Not just familiars either, but every species imaginable. 

Hongjoong laughs at that, his eyes twinkling when Seonghwa looks into them. “I’ll ask him tonight.”

Seonghwa takes his hand and squeezes it reassuringly. “San!” he calls, “Dinner!” 

When Seonghwa heads to take a shower before turning in for the night, Hongjoong turns to San sitting next to him on the couch. They’re watching some cartoon that neither of them really care for, but San seems to be interested in it.

Hongjoong reaches over to pet San, and a low purr rumbles out, San leaning into the touch. 

"Hey, San-yah," Hongjoong says, "I've got a question."

San meows, not tearing his eyes from his show. 

"Do you like it here?"

A chirp of affirmation. 

"Would you be opposed to spending forever with us?"

At that, San perks up, twisting his head to blink at Hongjoong, a kind of anxious curiosity in his eyes. "Seonghwa and I- well mostly me, want to make you our familiar."

San blinks at him, unmoving. 

"It's like you'll be our kid, or pet if you prefer," Hongjoong continues, undeterred, "You don't have to help out with our stuff unless you want to. We just like your company." Hongjoong flushes at that, not quite used to being so honest with his emotions to someone that isn't Seonghwa. "And we wouldn't mind if you spend forever with us." 

San meows, nudging Hongjoong's hand to rest against his cheek. Hongjoong strokes him gently, his heart filling with an emotion like flowers in Spring. 

San crawls towards him, and Hongjoong suddenly finds himself with a lapful of San. He freezes, unsure what to do. His hands hover just over San's waist as the boy throws his arms around his neck in a hug. San's hair brushes against his cheek as he squeezes Hongjoong tightly. 

"Forever?" San whispers. "You promise?"

Hongjoong awkwardly puts his hands around San, hugging him back as best as he can. 

"For as long as you want," Hongjoong promises quietly, "We witches can live for eternity, after all. And if you accept, you'll live for as long as I will."

"You won't leave me?" 

“No,” Hongjoong swears, “Never. You’ll be ours. Our Sannie.”

“Yes. Yes, please .”

Hongjoong breathes out a chuckle. “You don’t even know what being a familiar entails.”

“Don’t care,” San mumbles, “I wanna- you- um… you’re safe.”

San feels safe with them. Hongjoong could cry. 

But he doesn't, instead hugging San just as tight. "I'll tell you anyway," he says, because Seonghwa will have his ass if he isn't thorough.  "Your soul will be bonded to mine, and you'll live as long as I will. I'll be able to communicate with you mentally, but that's the extent to it if we're doing the most basic one."

"Like you and Seonghwa hyung?"

"That's different," Hongjoong mutters, "Hwa and I are married. We did the deepest level of soul bonding. He is part of me and I'm part of him."

"Okay," San says, and Hongjoong feels him exhale. "I wanna."

Hongjoong can't help the delighted smile that spreads across his face. "I love you, San," he says quickly, before he can't think too much about it. He doesn't say it a lot. Only to Seonghwa, mostly. 

San sniffles and Hongjoong's eyes widen, starting to panic. "Sorry, sorry! Don't cry-"

"I love you too," San chokes out, burying his face into Hongjoong's shoulder. Hongjoong relaxes, breathing in relief. He holds San while he sniffs, and pretends he doesn't see Seonghwa in the doorway, gazing at them with fondness dripping from his features like honey. 

Seonghwa helps them conduct the ceremony a day before they're set to leave. He hasn't done this spell in eons, the last time being when he assisted to bond Yunjin and Eunchae. So he's a bit out of practice, but luckily the bonding completes without any issues. 

Hongjoong and San take some time to get used to being able to communicate, well, mostly San, since Hongjoong has centuries of practice with Seonghwa. San gets it easily though, and soon he even begins to annoy Hongjoong on purpose, to which Hongjoong glares at him with no bite and blocks him out. 

At the end of the day, Seonghwa presents San with a collar, plain save for the engravement of San's name. 

"You don't have to wear it at all. It's just a tradition for familiars to be given collars," Seonghwa reassures immediately when he takes it out, knowing how San might feel about it. "If you want to wear it, I'll get you a prettier one, but if you don't, that's perfectly fine."

San lets Seonghwa place the collar into his palms. He turns it over, looking at it. 

"I don't have to?" he asks quietly, smoothing his thumb over the indents of his name. 

"No. It's just a keepsake," Seonghwa repeats. 

"Thank you," San mumbles, although he seems like he doesn't know what else to say. 

Seonghwa pulls him close and presses a kiss to his head. 

“Have you ever taken a portal before?” Seonghwa checks up on San, who’s doing figure-eights around Seonghwa’s legs as they stand outside the now-empty house, waiting for noon to hit so the portal can open. San shakes his head, but continues running laps.

Hongjoong connects the last line of the pentagram within its circle, and he instantly chucks the chalk away, a disgusted look on his face. 

“I hate chalk,” he sulks, trying to rub the feeling off on his shirt. Chalk just feels wrong to touch.

“I told you you should have let me do it,” Seonghwa says light-heartedly, “You always complain.”

Hongjoong sticks his tongue out at him, for lack of a proper argument. Seonghwa always offers, and Hongjoong always insists. Kinda stupid, but it’s also amusing. 

“Five minutes,” Hongjoong warns, checking the time. He gets to his feet, nudging San with his shoe. “Do you wanna get in one of our bags for the first time so you don’t get lost? I don’t want to go looking for you in Antarctica.”

San yowls. 

“You’re not going to land in Antarctica, don’t worry. He’s just messing with you. But you can get lost, so getting in our bag is a good idea.” 

Seonghwa bends down, holding open his tote bag to reveal Shiber tucked inside and San immediately leaps into the bag, curling up so only his eyes are visible. His tail thumps against the plushie. 

"One minute," Hongjoong says, "Are you ready?"

San meows yes. 

Seonghwa shrugs. "If you are. We've done this before and we'll do it again."

Then the portal crackles open, a soft yellow circle that will lead straight to Chan's front door. They can hear faint chatter from the portal, lathered with the heavy accent that is distinctly Australian. 

Hongjoong looks back at the house one last time, and decides that they will probably never come back, not if he can help it.

"Are you okay?" Seonghwa calls from where he's about to step into the portal. 

"Yeah," Hongjoong says, walking over to catch up. He lets Seonghwa squeeze his hand reassuringly, his wife smiling ever so softly. 

"Are you guys going to stand there and be sappy all day?" Sana calls out from the portal, sounding entirely amused.

"Coming, mom!" Seonghwa quips back.