Chapter Text
Minghao never works November 2nd for a very good reason.
He’s not the only mage who does, in fact November 2nd has become somewhat of an unofficial public holiday due to the amount of mages who call in sick to work and school, exhausted from the activities of All Hallow's Day. Every November 1st, while humans sleep away their Halloween hangovers, mages share potions and strengthen clan bonds and prepare to dance naked under the moonlight till the sun rises. There are rituals and traditions and magic is unbound and strong for a full 24 hours. Minghao loves every moment of it.
Now - 9 hours after the last candle was blown out and Minghao had somehow managed to drag himself to his bed, bone tired and blissed out - he’s standing in the middle of the cafe kitchen trying not to fall asleep where he stands, counting down the seconds before he can return to his bed. He thinks of the entire jar full of regeneration tea he left on his kitchen counter, ready to be brewed and sipped until he can stand on his own. His magic swirls uncomfortably close to the surface of his skin, unsettled from all the spell casting and drained, refusing to stay still till it’s replenished. He longs to be curled in bed with a circle of crystals balanced along his body, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling and letting himself heal. Instead, he’s focusing all his depleted energy on not spilling juice all over the counter and reconsidering his choice in friends.
For example; Yoon Jeonghan, the sole reason he’s even there. If he had fallen asleep just seconds earlier than he did last night he wouldn’t have heard the frantic buzzing of his phone on his bed stand. He wouldn’t have rolled over, eyelids so heavy he had to blink several times to stop going cross eyed as he tried to read the string of texts. Minghao , it had started, inconspicuous. Then, You know I love you the most right? and that’s when Minghao had realised his mistake. There was no saying no to Jeonghan when he wanted something.
It was simple enough; Joshua had fucked up a transfiguration spell that could take days to reverse and Jeonghan needed to stay back and help, so he couldn’t make it to his morning shift. Minghao understands; shit happens, especially in the midst of festivities - especially on an All Hallow’s full moon, the first in over a century. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take full advantage of Jeonghan’s hurried ‘ I owe you big time!". He's not an idiot.
There’s an earth shattering crash that breaks Minghao out of his thoughts with a jump, the sound amplified by his magical hangover making it ricochet around his head for several moments after he’s found the source of it. That is: Mingyu, now ducking down to frantically pick up the pieces of the coffee cup he’s just shattered while mumbling apologies that bounce around the room, too low and jumbled for Minghao to make any sense of.
A few words slip through the fuzz as Minghao carefully puts down the juice he’d been bottling and turns to help. The words cursed and bad luck make him stop dead in his tracks.
“I'm sorry what?” He asks. His own voice sounds like he’s underwater; he may need to lie down soon.
Mingyu’s sigh is exhausted and Minghao quietly takes note of the Gucci bags under his unusually dull eyes. “Vernon invited me to this Halloween party and I accidentally spilled beer on what I thought was a dude dressed as a witch but it turned out he actually was a witch and he got mad and said I'd be cursed with a lifetime of bad luck by the time the sun rose.” He says all in one breath, inhaling quietly once he’s done. Minghao’s eyebrows scrunch together.
“Is that all he said?” He asks, unsure.
“He was mumbling a bit when he walked off but I didn't catch anything he said.” Mingyu responds, still picking up the pieces of shattered porcelain off the ground with his bare hands. Minghao has a vague thought that that’s probably not the best idea, considering their current topic of conversation. He pulls his latex gloves off and squeezes past Mingyu to grab a brush and shovel.
“Was he drunk?”
Mingyu snorts unattractively and turns to carelessly dump his handful of cup into the broken glass bucket. “I'm pretty sure everyone on the entire block was.”
Minghao holds back a sigh. “Did he make any hand gestures? Throw salt at you? Speak any Latin incantations?”
Mingyu thinks for a moment, squinting and rubbing at the skin of his palm. “No he just kind of swung his half empty red solo cup in my direction and stumbled off. He might have been mumbling in Latin,” He looks up and shrugs, "I couldn't really tell, it was super loud in there.”
“That’s not a lot to go on.” Minghao frowns down at the tiny specks of white in the dustpan in his hands. “You sure you’re not just having a bad day?”
Mingyu huffs and drops his hands. “Look, I know I can be clumsy sometimes-”
“Only sometimes?” Minghao laughs.
“-but I've never been this bad.” He gestures at the bucket full of porcelain shards and Minghao catches a glimpse of red on one of his hands. “That was the fourth thing I’ve broken just today and it’s not even lunch.”
Minghao stares at him, calculating. Besides the cut on his hand that he really should cover up, Mingyu has a rash running up his forearm (that Minghao would be able to identify as poison ivy burn if he’d paid attention in his herbology lesson last week), he looks like he hasn’t slept in days and the bottom of his left pants leg is damp with what Minghao sincerely hopes is water. In short, Mingyu looks exactly how Minghao feels: like shit.
He sighs. “Alright, I guess that’s a lot even for you.”
He stands and brushes past Mingyu to dump the rest of the cup pieces into the bucket, arm brushing against Mingyu’s chest when he doesn’t move away to let Minghao past. He turns to find Mingyu staring at him rather intensely - he looks a bit manic. “So can you help me break it?”
Mingyu looks down at him - their height difference is especially prominent, standing this close together, and Minghao’s neck burns when he realises - with shining eyes and the careful weight of his well being resting solely on Minghao’s already heavy shoulders.
He should say no. His magic is nowhere near stable enough for casting even the most simplest of spells, let alone all the extra control required for black magic. He’s hardly well versed in the craft and isn’t completely sure if he’d be able to help Mingyu, even if he were healthy enough. Not to mention, he’s severely behind on his apprenticeship work and Jihoon will serve his ass on a silver platter with a side of beans if he turns in one more assignment late.
There are a million and one reasons to say no and the universe is yelling all of them in a cacophony of bad idea bad idea bad idea.
“I guess.” He says, the agreement slipping out far easier than it had any right to. Mingyu’s responding smile is absolutely blinding and he bends down to give Minghao a hug of gratitude, his arms wrapping around Minghao’s torso and squeezing-
His head follows his body a beat late, and is abruptly stopped with a loud bang as his forehead makes contact with the metal shelf behind Minghao. Mingyu’s whimper of pain is drowned out by Minghao’s hysterical laughter, as is Seungcheol’s disembodied panicked yelling from the front of the cafe.
Minghao is going to end up stretched far too thin to function, he knows this. If he’s extra lucky, he might even get a magic block and Jihoon will kill him and sell his body for potions. He really can’t find it in himself to care though. Not when Mingyu is crouching on the floor half-laughing, half-crying at the pain in his head and the stinging in his palm and, for the first time all day, Minghao’s head is completely clear.
♤
On Seungcheol’s orders, Minghao stays home the next day. He spends it mostly unconscious in bed, dreaming of full moons and broken mirrors and bruises blooming on tan skin. When he’s awake, he’s trying to decide whether telling Jihoon about Mingyu’s dilemma would be helpful or detrimental. On one hand, he’s a powerful, experienced mage that has dabbled in both light and dark magic and would be able to help Minghao control it, if he were willing. On the other hand; he basically raised Minghao and if he deemed the ritual too dangerous he’d stop him from even trying, even if Minghao knows it’d probably be for the best.
He returns to work as divided as he left and is hardly surprised to find that the news of Mingyu’s curse has spread throughout the body of staff, even some of the part timers and a few of their regulars. Mingyu is as clumsy as he is talkative, so it was really just a matter of time.
What is surprising, and slightly worrying, is that for some reason, word has also gotten around that Minghao is the poor sucker that got roped into helping him break it. He doesn’t understand what’s so interesting about him being the one to help that makes it worth gossiping about, but he suspects it has something to do with the return of one Yoon Jeonghan and the knowing look he’s been throwing Minghao whenever Mingyu is within any sort of proximity.
And as to be expected from Yoon Jeonghan, he corners Minghao the first chance he gets, when Minghao is on his break. Which is, first of all, incredibly unfair and breaks some sort of unspoken rule about bothering people when they’re on their break. He does bring with him a thermos full of regeneration tea that acts as both a token of gratitude and a preemptive apology. It’s the expensive flavoured kind too, so Minghao can’t even be more than a little disgruntled about it.
“So,” Jeonghan starts, shamelessly sliding into one of the broken chairs they keep in the back room instead of throwing them out or fixing them. He balances gracefully like the chair has all four legs instead of three and a half. “What’s this I hear about you helping a certain coworker break a curse?”
Minghao pulls his other earphone out, surrendering himself to the conversation. “I didn’t offer, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything. “ Jeonghan argues innocently. “I just think it’s interesting.”
Minghao doesn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what, exactly, is so interesting. He silently blows on his tea to cool it down and pretends Jeonghan didn’t give him an opening, knowing it’ll piss the other off just a little.
It works. Jeonghan lets out an irritated huff, facade slipping slightly before returning full force. “It’s interesting that he didn’t ask Seokmin. You know Seokmin right? Mingyu’s roommate? A little birdie told me he’s specialising in counter curses right now.”
Minghao doesn’t give any indication that he’s listening. Jeonghan continues anyway.
“Also, it’s been three days since All Hallow’s and you still look like you’re going to keel over at a gust of wind. I can’t imagine you looked much better when he asked you.”
“I’ll have you know ‘Moments From Death’ is my aesthetic and I work really hard to maintain it.” He retaliates.
“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Jeonghan continues like he didn’t say anything. “The boy has a heart of gold, why would he ask you of all people to help him when your magic is so weak?”
“He’s a human.” Minghao argues, weirdly defensive about all of this. “He probably didn’t even notice; he was having a rough morning. Plus humans cant sense magic like we can so I probably just looked tired to him.”
“It’s weak and you know it.” Jeonghan smiles like the devil he is. If Minghao hadn’t grown up with him he’d swear he was actually a daemon.
He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he finally takes a sip of tea and moans almost pornographically at how good it feels sliding down his throat, warming his insides and calming his magic. Jeonghan retches loudly and kicks his chair.
“Um.” Mingyu announces his presence at the worst possible moment, his flushed face making it obvious he’d been standing there long enough to hear the obscene sound Minghao just let out in a spur of thoughtlessness. He really wishes he could keel over and die right then and there; leave Jeonghan to clean up his body for all he cares. It’s the least he deserves, the fucker.
“Jeonghan.” Mingyu continues, voice strained. “Seungcheol told me to tell you to, quote, ‘stop bothering Minghao and do your damn job’.”
Jeonghan smiles innocently and slaps Minghao hard enough on the back that he starts coughing. “Just getting our Minghao here up to date on our menu changes.” He lies.
Mingyu nods, either unaware of Jeonghan’s blatant lie - they haven’t changed their menu in years - or just desperate to leave this interaction as fast as possible (Minghao can relate) and backs out of the room with a final withering glance in Minghao’s direction. Minghao rolls his chair over and locks the door after him, Seungcheol be damned.
“I hate you so fucking much.” He turns on Jeonghan, the other looking absolutely pleased with himself.
“You’ll thank me later.” Jeonghan hums dismissively. “Anyway, my next point: Mingyu’s story. It’s weak, don’t you think?”
Minghao nods, always reluctant to agree with Jeonghan about anything. “To be fair he was drunk.”
Agreeing with Jeonghan is always a mistake. His grin spreads into something wicked. “Exactly.” He waves a perfectly manicured finger close enough to brush the underside of Minghao’s nose. “There’s no solid proof,” He lists the items off with his fingers, “No eyewitnesses, not even a dark aura following him around. So tell me,” He leans forward and Minghao’s chair creaks when he leans away in response. “Why did you, the most stubborn, most uncooperative and inexperienced mage in our clan agree to help break a non-existent curse?”
“I’m not uncooperative.” He argues without any real heat. Because we’re friends he wants to say, but they both know that’s a lie. Minghao has seen Mingyu three times outside of work in the eight months they’ve known each other and only one of those times was intentional. He wants them to be friends but he’s awkward and socially inept, his only friends he either grew up in the coven with or met at work, their relationships more forced than grown from mutual interests. Being one of two mages at a cafe full of humans tends to leave Minghao feeling like an outsider most days.
Mingyu is the polar opposite; a social butterfly with a repertoire of interpersonal relationships miles long. But that’s a depressing thought for another day.
“You know what I think?” Jeonghan asks when it’s obvious Minghao is too lost in thought to realise he unknowingly just let Jeonghan win. He really doesn’t want to know but he’s going to hear it anyway, he doesn’t have much of a choice. Jeonghan was wrong about Minghao being the most stubborn mage in their clan. “I think the only reason Mingyu is suddenly so clumsy is because he’s spending so much time with his crush and he’s even more of an idiot than usual.”
Minghao, thankfully, is saved from responding by the spine-tingling sound of keys in the lock. Jeonghan barely has time to jump in fright, the chair below him wobbling precariously as his weight shifts unexpectedly, before the door swings open and Seungcheol barges in in all of his Manager Glory and drags Jeonghan out by the ear.
Minghao laughs along to the sound of Jeonghan’s pained yells and puts his earphones back in. Jeonghan’s words stick with him for the rest of his break, to his annoyance. the thought of Mingyu with a crush doesn’t settle in his stomach well, but he blames that on the tea.
♤
It wasn’t the tea.
He stays up late that night, mind spinning and twirling around the idea of Mingyu crushing on someone they work with. It all leaves a bad taste in his mouth; especially when his overactive imagination conjures up the image of Mingyu staring at Seungcheol with love sick puppy eyes, stuttering through a confession and dropping a box of chocolates on the ground in his nervousness. It’s all annoyingly endearing and Minghao’s blood simmers quietly. Mingyu is a grown man, he can have a crush on whoever he wants. Minghao doesn’t care. (Or at least, he shouldn’t care.)
He rolls over, accepting that sleep won’t be paying him a visit any time soon, and sits up. He reaches into his bedside cabinet, precariously balancing over the edge of the bed trying not to fall off, and grabs his copy of his clan’s grimoire. It’s passed down through generations, specialised for their clan’s powers and traditions, and though Minghao never met whoever owned this particular copy before him, he can tell by the doodled drawings and comments on some of the more mind-numbing spells that the mage had very similar attitudes towards studying as he does.
He balances the grimoire on his knees and flips through the pages haphazardly, hoping a spell will pop out at him so he doesn’t have to actually sit down and read the whole thing. He could probably text someone in the clan, someone who’s actually read it, but then Jihoon would definitely find out and he’s more or less decided on keeping this a secret; at least until he’s figured out how dangerous this counter curse will be exactly. If he ever actually finds one that is.
He’s distractedly reading through a spell to ward off premature hair loss, wondering with dawning horror why this particular spell has been added to their clan’s specialised spell book, when his phone vibrates in rapid succession, startling him so much the book almost slips out of his lap onto the floor. He catches it before it does and deposits it safely on the bed. His grabs his phone off his pillow and the screen wakes to an unread text from his neighbour Wonwoo. He frowns.
creepy neighbour
you up? ✓ Read: 01:13am
They’re not exactly the closest of neighbours. Distance wise yes, but relationship wise- well. Minghao wouldn’t exactly be thrilled if they got stuck in an elevator together. It’s not that he dislikes Wonwoo, it’s just.
It’s just Junhui, his white snake familiar with a penchant for hissing at Minghao and slithering around like he’ll pounce on him any second if he dares do so much as make eye contact. He can’t speak snake and knows next to nothing about them but there’s something in his gut that tells him that Junhui would eat him if he ever had the chance.
you
if this is a booty call im flattered but not interested ✓ Read: 01:14am
Wonwoo doesn’t respond and he puts his phone down, assuming the other fell asleep. A knock on his front door a moment later proves him wrong and he groans. He’s debating pretending that he’s fallen asleep but then Wonwoo starts knocking louder and he has a feeling he’s not above waking the rest of their neighbours.
He stands with a groan and reluctantly unlocks the door.
“So, your boyfriend got cursed?” Wonwoo says in lieu of a proper greeting. Junhui hisses unhappily on Wonwoo’s shoulder; his own version of a greeting. Minghao sighs and moves to let them both in, despite his gut instinct telling him this is a bad idea.
Oh well, he thinks, not the first bad idea he’s had this week.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” He starts, “And how do you even know about that?”
As far as Minghao was aware they didn’t share any mutual friends. Then again, the longest conversation they’ve had was when Minghao moved in a few months ago and needed help moving his book shelf. All they did was go over the basics; name, age, species, preferred craft. That’s the only reason he knows that Wonwoo specialises in dark magic and makes him ten times more intimidating than he originally was. That, and Junhui curled around his neck like a temperamental scarf - only dark mages tended to need familiars.
“Not important.” Wonwoo calls, and by the sounds of it he’s already making himself comfortable on Minghao’s bed. He closes the front door and narrowly resists banging his head against it till he knocks himself out just to avoid the dreaded path this conversation is already taking.
“How are you gonna break it?” Wonwoo asks when Minghao finally rejoins him in his own bedroom. His suspicions are confirmed: Wonwoo is lounging across Minghao’s bed like he lives there with Junhui slithering among the sheets, exploring. Minghao doesn’t know how but Junhui looks like he’s judging all of Minghao’s life choices.
Minghao shrugs awkwardly. “I don’t really know yet.”
Wonwoo sits up, eyes catching the grimoire sitting open on the bedside table. “Perfect. I’ll help you.”
Minghao’s eyebrows touch his hairline and he slams the grimoire closed, batting Wonwoo’s probing fingers away. “Why?”
Minghao was convinced they were somewhat acquainted strangers and nothing more. He was also pretty sure Wonwoo hated him.
“Because we’re neighbours?” Wonwoo tries, casual indifference breaking into something more anxious, more human. Minghao is pleased to find it calms his own anxiety seeing Wonwoo looking ruffled for the first time in his life. He stares Wonwoo down until he caves, breaking eye contact and muttering something under his breath that Minghao can’t quite catch.
“Sorry?” He asks, stepping closer. Wonwoo repeats himself, only slightly louder. Minghao still can’t hear him.
“I said,” Wonwoo yells before continuing at a more normal speaking volume, “I failed one of my assignments and my new tutor said the only way I can get extra credit is by helping you with a counter curse.”
Minghao is too confused to really appreciate the wonderful blush high on Wonwoo’s cheeks.
“Why would your tutor want you to help me?” Minghao asks before his brain catches up, a vague overheard conversation brought to the forefront of his memory. Joshua, leaning across the pickup counter like he does every Wednesday for his gossip sessions with Jeonghan, as if the two don’t practically live together and can gossip when Jeonghan isn’t at work. He’d been complaining about the coven making a unanimous decision to swap his apprentice with someone else. How he had barely spoken to the kid, how his white snake familiar freaked him out-
“Your tutor is Josh isn’t it?” He asks, fearing the answer.
Wonwoo looks shocked for a moment, before his expression turns sheepish, which is not something Minghao was ever prepared to see from his stoic neighbour. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
“Wait does this mean-” He’s met Jeonghan, there’s no way he hasn’t. Minghao feels weirdly betrayed and lied to, though there’s no real reason to feel that way.
He groans. “I don’t need their help why can’t they just stay out of this?” He asks no one in particular.
“Admit it, you need me as mu-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” Minghao warns. Wonwoo grins, finger tracing the patterns on the cover of the grimoire.
Minghao has two options; he can kick Wonwoo out of his apartment and call Jihoon in the morning to explain everything and pray that against all of his suspicions, Jihoon will actually help him.
Or, he can let Wonwoo look through his grimoire and they can spend the rest of the night brainstorming ideas together, with Minghao keeping a careful eye on Junhui at all times and the added bonus of extra teasing and meddling from the people he calls his friends.
In the end Junhui makes the decision for him - slithering in Minghao’s way when he tries to force Wonwoo to leave and opening his mouth threateningly around Minghao’s ankle when he tries to step around him.
Minghao really hates that snake.
♤
Minghao’s in the middle of hauling his body weight in trash to the industrial sized wheely bin outside when he hears Mingyu yelling - a sound he has unfortunately become very familiar with in the half a week Mingyu’s been cursed. The sound is accompanied by an angry metallic whirring that he recognises as the demonic milkshake machine, as well as sad wet splatters before all noise cuts off. Minghao dumps the rubbish bag by the back door before walking back into the kitchen-
To find Mingyu clutching a half empty, half-mixed milkshake, the other half of it decorating the walls, benches and himself.
“I didn’t think this machine could give me any more trauma.” Mingyu moans, pouting at Minghao’s stifled laughter. He remembers Mingyu’s first week of the job and how every single milkshake he’d made had ended the exact same way. Since then, Mingyu’s always done his best to avoid it like the plague.
A blob of ice cream drips off Mingyu’s fringe and lands on the ground with a sad splat.
“Sorry.” Minghao apologises through his laughter and rips a new cloth off a roll and hands it to Mingyu, who’s pout deepens.
He rips another cloth off and starts wiping the bench. “I talked to my neighbour.” He says, apropos of nothing.
“The one that does black magic?” Mingyu asks, squeezing dairy out of his fringe. For some reason the sight of it has Minghao feeling inexplicably giddy so he drops the cloth and starts remaking the milkshake. He hums a confirmation, burying his face in the ice cream tub.
“We’re meeting up this weekend to find supplies for a ritual that might work.” Mingyu starts cleaning the bench beside him and he hopes his entire body tensing isn’t too visible. He clears his throat quietly, unsure why he’s so nervous all of a sudden. “Don’t get your hopes up though, it might not work.”
“Why not?” Mingyu asks. He’s towering over Minghao even while bent over the counter.
“Well um, you know-” He stutters. “Supply problems…” He trails off, unable to come up with another reason that’s not he just doesn’t think he’s skilled enough to pull this off, even if Wonwoo is (probably) ten times as powerful as he is and has far more experience in curses. He doesn’t want to scare Mingyu off now that he’s so emotionally invested.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Mingyu reassures him. “I trust you.” He smiles down at him and Minghao has to look away immediately because he feels like his face is about to burst into flames, his pulse sky rocketing.
“Th-thanks.” He stutters.
Mingyu laughs. “I should be thanking you!” He grins, mega-watt and disarming. “I really appreciate it, you must be so busy. I’ll pay you back?” He tilts his head and Minghao thinks puppypuppypuppy-
“Don’t worry about it.” He says, and really means it. He puts the finished milkshake in the blender and turns it on while Mingyu grabs the ice cream and walks away to put it back in the freezer.
“Hey uh, just so you know,” Minghao calls over the whirring of the machine as Mingyu disappears around the corner, “The best time to break a curse is during the new moon which is like, two weeks away. Can you hold on till then?”
He hears the freezer door shut with a click but Mingyu doesn’t respond or reappear.
“Mingyu?” He gives the milkshake a final burst before pulling it off the blender and walks around the corner. Mingyu is standing with his back to the freezer door, looking nervously between Minghao and his pwn arm tucked behind him.
“You okay…?” Minghao asks, eyes doing a quick once-over. Mingyu giggles nervously and breaks eye contact.
“I, uh, might have just closed the door on my finger?”
There’s a pause where they just look at each other, Mingyu’s hand trapped behind him by the complicated mechanics of the freezer door handle.
Minghao sighs, long winded and exhausted. “Two weeks. Just hold out for two weeks without killing someone, please. ”
♤
“Your boyfriend almost killed me this morning.” Is not how Minghao expected to start his shift a week later.
Seungkwan looks rather unbothered for someone who’s had a recent near death experience, steaming milk like it’s a regular Tuesday morning. “Congrats, by the way.” he adds.
“What?” Minghao asks, continuing his trek to the staff room to dump his bag and clock in.
“Mingyu.” Seungkwan continues when Minghao returns to the coffee machine just to hear the rest of this conversation. “He almost dropped a crate on my head with delivery this morning.” He explains. “And congrats on the whole boyfriend thing.”
Minghao starts making himself a coffee, banging the coffee head against the dump rather aggressively. “Why does everyone think we’re dating?” He sighs, feathers all ruffled first thing in the morning.
“You’re not?” Seungkwan finishes his latte art creation before he turns to stare at him incredulously. When Minghao just raises an eyebrow, Seungkwan scowls. “Fuck Jeonghan, that compulsive liar.”
Minghao doesn’t have to ask. Of course Jeonghan would be spreading rumours about his completely platonic relationship with his coworker.
“Can you grab more milk?” Seungkwan asks, apparently done with his interrogation.
“No.” He replies and dodges the cloth thrown at him with practiced ease.
♤
It’s 9 am on a Saturday and Minghao is, to his utter displeasure, not sleeping the day away in bed. Instead, he’s at the mage market with Wonwoo trying to find all of the supplies they need for the ritual before everywhere is sold out. Saturday morning markets are no joke; human or not.
In a rare turn of events, Junhui isn’t there. Minghao couldn’t hold back his pleased grin when he realised the reptile wasn’t present and he’s thankful that Wonwoo had been too busy ogling some sort of demonic Venus Fly Trap to notice.
At this point, the market is packed full of bodies and their basket is close to overflowing, but they haven’t gotten everything they need yet. Minghao really wishes he’d brought his reusable grocery bags to carry some of this - the basket is leaving marks in his forearms that’ll be a bitch to heal. Wonwoo still hasn’t offered to carry it, even after the third time he nearly dropped it on his foot, and Minghao doesn’t think hes lucky enough to get away with asking.
Wonwoo disappears into a tent and Minghao follows with a tired groan, heaving the basket higher up his arm.
“Excuse me?” he calls, too tired to even look at this point. The girl at the back of the tent looks up at Minghao’s call, dropping the pendant she’s watching spin round and round over the wooden table serving as both a counter and a tarot reading station.
“Yes? Did you need help with something?”
“Do you have any galangal root?” Everywhere else is sold out so he isn’t holding his breath. He’ll have to look up a substitute when he has free hands.
As predicted, the girl’s face drops in sympathy. “We’re out I’m sorry.”
Minghao thanks her and bows, turning to leave when she stops him. “What were you going to use it for?”
He shuffles awkwardly, adjusting his grip on the basket. Black magic isn’t taboo, not really. There’s just a lot of discourse surrounding it and a lot of people - specifically non-magic users, go figure - have a lot of loud opinions on the subject. Dark magic is powerful and takes a lot of self-discipline to master safely. Only the strongest mages can successfully use it long-term without letting it consume their natural magic - hence why Minghao is so afraid of it - but it’s rare that a mage gets to the point of consumption; there are safety laws and covens for a reason. Even still, practicing black magic is somewhat frowned upon by the more conservative members of society and any small tasks that require black magic are often dealt with through dark mage freelancers. It’s uncommon for mages not born and raised in dark mage clans to practice any form of it above whatever may be required for lessons.
There’s not a trace of anything dark in the girl’s magic, but Minghao is still hesitant. The marketplace can be wildly unpredictable.
“Curse breaking.” He eventually answers, deciding it’s better to be truthful. If the girl has opinions he’d kindly not hear any of them.
Her face doesn’t change though, not in the slightest. “Oh, ginger root is a good substitute if it’s a small scale hex. Otherwise we should have some next weekend.” She smiles kindly; meaningfully.
Minghao breaks into a small relieved smile of his own and bows again. “Thank you.” He turns to find the last ingredient only to come face to face with Wonwoo, walking towards him with an unreadable expression.
“Oh, Wonwoo” He breathes, caught off guard and slightly uncomfortable.
Wonwoo keeps staring for several more seconds before his expression breaks into something minutely more relaxed. He holds a hand out, a bag of ginger root dangling from his nimble fingers. “This everything?”
Minghao nods and Wonwoo goes to pay, smiling in a way Minghao has never seen when he thanks the girl. Minghao follows quietly behind him as they leave the tent, the ginger root carefully wedged between everything else in the basket.
Wonwoo turns around suddenly, once they’re a safe distance away, between two empty stalls and away from foot traffic.
“You didn’t lie.” He says.
Minghao shrugs. “Didn’t think I needed to.” He says lamely.
He’s inexplicably embarrassed, but Wonwoo’s minuscule smile makes him feel a little proud of himself. He could have easily lied and said he needed it for a ‘normal’ spell, or a simple human cooking recipe. Galangal root isn’t exactly uncommon. But he realises now it wouldn’t have felt right, would have made it seem like he was doing something wrong when that’s not how he feels about dark magic at all. He doesn’t believe there’s anything wrong with it, despite his own wariness that’s more a product of his own insecurities than it is anything to do with the magic itself.
It must be hard for dark magic users like Wonwoo, he realises, to do simple things without fear of being judged by an opinionated stranger.
Thinking about Wonwoo’s bright smile earlier, he knows he did the right thing.
Minghao shoves Wonwoo to get him walking again, flashing him a smile that he hopes makes up for everything he’s too awkward and shy to say out loud. They walk in a silence that’s comfortable for the first time since they met and Minghao is quietly reveling in it, soaking it up and hoping this is a step towards a better relationship with his neighbour.
They’re a block away from their apartment building when they run into Mingyu and Minghao’s stomach drops. He was hoping to put off Wonwoo and Mingyu’s first (and hopefully only) meeting until the very last minute - for reasons he can’t quite understand himself.
“Minghao, hey!” Mingyu calls when he spots them, removing his headphones and jogging over. He’s just coming from the gym, dressed in shorts and a tank top that shows enough skin for Minghao’s head to start spinning. He’s panting like a dog and Minghao’s thoughts return to puppypuppypuppy-
“Hey.” Minghao squeaks. Mingyu’s smile is warmer than the sun above their heads. Wonwoo nudges him in the side when Mingyu’s stare turns expectant, far more aggressive than called for. Minghao clears his throat, subtly shoving back. “Uh, Mingyu this is Wonwoo, my neighbour. Wonwoo this is Mingyu, the idiot who got himself cursed.”
Mingyu laughs good-naturedly and shakes Wonwoo’s proffered hand. The spark in Wonwoo’s eyes as he looks Mingyu up and down horrifyingly reminds him of Junhui and his heart rate spikes. He wonders if he ran fast enough if he could make it home before Wonwoo caught him.
“It’s great to finally meet you, I’ve heard loads.” Wonwoo grins, ignoring the sharp warning jab Minghao digs into his side.
Mingyu’s grin stretches till it reaches his eyes. “Minghao talks about me?”
Wonwoo laughs, devilish. “He never shuts up-”
“Mingyu we would love to talk more,” Minghao interrupts, slightly manic, looping his free arm with Wonwoo’s, “But we should really get going. Lots of important, um, mage business to attend to. Sorry!” He drags Wonwoo away, trying to maintain a reasonable walking pace that doesn’t make it look like he’s running away. (Even if that’s exactly what he’s doing.)
“Bye! See you at work!” Mingyu calls obliviously. “Nice to meet you Wonwoo!”
“You too!” Wonwoo waves happily back, laughing once Minghao tugs him back around. They walk through a small crowd before Wonwoo pulls away and punches him in the arm.
“Ah!” He yelps in pain. “What was that for?”
“Being rude.” Wonwoo says and straightens his jacket where Minghao rumpled it. Then he resumes walking, uncaring if Minghao is following or not.
Minghao glances back and manages to catch Mingyu’s sandy brown hair bouncing above the crowd, nodding happily along to the music in his headphones as he walks in the opposite direction. Minghao turns back around and follows after Wonwoo, noting how his heart is pounding in his ears.
Wonwoo is deep in thought when he catches up to him.
“What’s up?” Minghao asks, nudging him gentler this time.
“Trying to figure out what’s wrong with Mingyu.” Wonwoo explains after a moment, still lost in concentration.
“You mean besides the fact that he’s cursed?” Minghao asks.
“Huh? No I mean just as a person.”
Minghao frowns. “What do you mean?”
Wonwoo inhales. “Well, he’s tall, handsome, has that dumb toothy smile that I suppose most people would swoon over.”
Minghao nods, unsure where this is going.
Wonwoo looks pointedly at Minghao. “So why’s he dating you?”
Minghao shoves him into a flower bush and storms off.