Archive of Our Own

Five heads crowded together and stared down at the paper on the table, a wide array of emotions visible on their faces – one nervous, another curious, the next mild, the fourth gleeful, and the last downright morose.

“…Remind me why we’re doing this again.”

***

MAY 22: 2 weeks ago

It had all started with a stupid argument. Specifically, the one Jinki later dubbed ‘A Latte Fuss over Nothing’.

In Kibum’s defence, he’d thought it was a nice gesture to make coffee for his roommate, but said roommate couldn’t stop complaining even then.

“For once, would you just accept that you made a mistake?” Minho slammed his cup of coffee down on the table.

“It wasn’t a fucking mistake – I happen to like my coffee with salt sometimes,” hissed Kibum, rubbing his crusty eyes. “Adds some flavour to it.”

It was 7am, his emotions were a mess because of yet another sleepless night, and this was the fourth argument they’d had over the last ten hours. At this point, he could almost feel the pent-up frustration and exhaustion bubbling up within him, fueling his anger (and his energy much more so than the coffee, he had to admit).

“All you have to say is I’m sorry Minho, I didn’t mean to add a spoonful of salt . Is it really that difficult to apologise to someone?”

“I’m sorry Minho, I didn’t mean to add a spoonful of salt. I should’ve added two,” Kibum added with a saccharine smile.

Ever since they’d first become roommates, he liked to imagine Minho’s patience as a rope, one which had gradually worn away with each argument. And his words seemed to have pulled on the last fragile threads holding it together, so Kibum watched with satisfaction as Minho aggressively drained the coffee down the sink. This was the release he’d needed: to see the perpetually cool-headed Minho, the amiable Minho everyone seemed to love, lose his calm exterior and finally snap.

“You know what your problem is?” Minho’s ears were turning red. “You never want to bow down to anyone. Apologising to me doesn’t make you inferior and yet you still can't bring yourself to just say sorry. Tell me, have you ever sincerely apologised to anyone before?”

In all honesty, this was what Kibum had been craving as soon as Minho had started whining about the coffee. He’d been looking for an excuse to lash back at Minho in earnest, which he couldn’t do if Minho kept holding himself back every time they argued. Anything that would allow Kibum to free himself of the strange brew of emotions that had been gnawing at him for so long.

But what Kibum hadn’t anticipated was for it to sting a little.

Kibum’s lips twitched sardonically. “Ah yes, and whilst we’re discussing flaws, why don’t we talk about yours, hm? God, it’s so irritating how you go around on that high horse of yours, pretending to be charming and making friends left right and centre, when you’re really just a snobby brat at home.” Minho gaped at this, and Kibum felt a fleeting moment of sympathy before the bitterness swallowed him up again. “Don’t act so surprised. I even took the time to make extra coffee for you but all you could do was turn your nose up at it. Like you do with everything.”

Minho closed his mouth, and opened it again, his entire face slowly reddening.

“That’s because there you accidentally put salt in the coffee. And then you refused to admit it was a mistake, as you’ve done every other time you screw something up! Maybe if you didn’t wake up such a high-strung wreck every morning and bothered trying to hold back your foul temper, people might actually want to be friends with you!”

“Oh, so you’re saying no one likes me because I have a bad temper?” Kibum asked, his voice rising. He knew he was overreacting but his stress levels had been so high recently that he’d reached a state of constant agitation.

“See, even right now, you’re being a moody brat again. Why don’t you just calm down and talk to me like a rational human?”

Rational human? 

Kibum narrowed his eyes at him. “Go to hell, Choi Minho,” he spat viciously, stomping out and making sure to slam the door behind him.

As he breathed in the cool morning air, he felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease a little.

It was so unfair how during every fight, Minho felt the need to point out everything wrong with Kibum and his lifestyle, and all Kibum could do was snap at him instead of defending himself or explaining his point of view.

Not throwing out the trash because Kibum had woken up too late, after the rubbish had already been collected? Minho called him selfish, saying he’d prioritise his sleep over chores. Not cleaning up after eating because he was so exhausted that he fell asleep immediately? Minho accused him of being a lazy slob.

Of course, it didn’t help that Kibum hadn’t bothered explaining his actions and instead resorted to sarcasm or goading Minho as well, but Kibum couldn’t help it if that was his nature. Surely it should work both ways; Minho should take some time to consider the reasons behind Kibum’s actions too.

After all, it wasn’t Kibum’s fault that vampires had strange sleeping patterns and woke up feeling cranky or exhausted most days.

‘Rational human’?

He wasn’t sure if Choi Minho had specifically used those words to remind Kibum that he wasn’t human anymore, or if it had been unintentional. Either way, it had felt like a slap across the face.

Memories of the night he’d been bitten flashed through his mind. Flashing strobe lights. The warmth of a body pressed against his own. The heady scent of sweat and cologne merging together.

A wave of nausea surged through him and he took in a deep breath, strides a little longer as he tried to refocus on the present. Looking at his surroundings, he realised he was still close to the outskirts of the university campus, where the accommodation for the Odd was located.

The injustice of it all struck him as he took in the dilapidated buildings and graffitied walls. There was a stark difference between the student accommodation for the Odd compared to the accommodation for humans. Whilst humans had modern, spacious dorms that were closer to the campus, supernatural species like vampires and demons, collectively known as the Odd, had to put up with the decrepit shacks that the university deemed fit for them. Granted, it had only been a few decades since they had revealed their existence to humans and been accepted into society, but Kibum would have thought that he would see less inter-species discrimination at university at least, as it was a place for open-minded youth.

Annoyance rippled through him again as Minho’s accusations echoed in his mind. It was easy for Minho to call Kibum out on everything he couldn’t do as a vampire.

It was still unfathomable to Kibum. Minho was rich, hard-working, and, most of all, human. He could easily have applied for human accommodation and yet he chose to live in the shitty Odd accommodation, flaunting his golden spoon right in Kibum’s face.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt a familiar pressure building up behind his eyes. Kibum stopped short and pulled out his phone from his pocket. Maybe venting to someone about it would help.

Two rings later, he was greeted with a familiar voice, sounding slightly out of breath. “Kibummieee!”

Kibum’s heart lifted at the sound of it. “Ugh, Jonghyun, you won’t believe what Minho said to m-”

“Er, sorry Key,” Jonghyun interrupted. “I’d love to talk but I’m sort of in a delicate situation rig - Jinki don’t fall! ”

Kibum cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?”

A nervous laugh chimed through his phone receiver. “I may or may not have convinced Jinki to transform into a bunny and climb up a tree to get my notebook.”

“Right.” Kibum’s voice was steadier, much more controlled now. “And what exactly was your notebook doing there?”

“Gosh, some fresher had the audacity to call me short so all I did was inform him that I am, in fact, tall for a pixie, thank you very much, but then he- SHIT JINKI HANG ON! BUMMIE HE’S HOLDING ONTO THE BRANCH BY HIS TEETH I- I GOTTA GO BUT WE’LL CATCH UP LATER!”

There was an audible click as Kibum stared at his phone in disbelief, not sure whether he should laugh or cry.

***

14 hours later

Kim Kibum was desperate.

There was no denying it, he realised, as he stared at the crude, handmade poster, the words ‘FRANCESCO THE WITCH’ scrawled across the top in messy handwriting. The edges were curled at the end and peeling off the brick wall that it was taped to, most likely because of the rain from earlier.

Tacky was the first word that had come to Kibum’s mind when he had initially seen the poster on his way on his way to evening lectures, and yet, there he stood, four hours later, glaring at the same ugly wall and even uglier poster. He ignored the hastily scribbled out second ‘M’s in ‘COMME ONE, COMME ALL’ to instead focus on the price. Francesco’s services were apparently cheap, and that was all Kibum really cared about given his current financial situation.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he decided, as the sound of an unmistakably loud sneeze and booming laughter echoed in the distance.

-

‘Francesco the Witch’ lived not too far from Kibum’s place according to the text he had received from the number scrawled on the poster. The apartment he had reached looked a little shabby, with questionable damp patches on the outside and the paint peeling off the front door, but overall not in bad condition for Odd residency.

Kibum rang the doorbell and was greeted by the sight of a young boy with jet black hair, smoky eyeshadow, and red lips.

“You must be Francesco?” Kibum asked.

The boy nodded, and as his head dipped down, Kibum saw a flash of red buried within his long, side-swept hair. A flash of red that seemed distinctly horn-like to Kibum.

Kibum raised his eyebrows. “Are you a demon?”

“Is that a problem?” The boy asked tersely.

“I just wasn’t aware that demons studied witchcraft. Especially not with an angelic name like Francesco,” Kibum stated bluntly.

His words were met with a pout. “Well I think Francesco is a fiendish name. Why don’t you come in?”

He waved Kibum in, his black nail varnish glittering in the dim light as Kibum looked around the room appreciatively. The candles on adjacent tables created a soft, warm glow, and a string curtain with aqua beads was hanging in the nearby doorway, shimmering prettily as Kibum walked past it.

The floor near the sofa was stacked with large and difficult-sounding spell books, and Kibum stepped over the pile in order to take a seat. He had to admit, he was impressed. For the first time since he’d seen the poster, an inkling of hope had begun to bloom in his chest. Maybe this could work after all.

The slender witch folded himself elegantly over the seat next to him, crossing his legs as he did so – only to knock over a large book on the floor.

“Whoopsies,” he mumbled, hurriedly replacing the book back onto the pile.

Kibum frowned. Was it just his imagination or did the textbook pages look too clean? Almost as if it was unused.

His speculations were interrupted as he heard a voice say, “So what can I do for you?”

Kibum’s eyes were drawn instead to a skinny jean-clad leg bouncing up and down skittishly . “Er… yes. Are you familiar with hexes?”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Of course! Hexes are my specialty. I can do all sorts, you name it – I’m great at the classic Toad Hex, Balding Hex, or I could try the Growth of the Armpit Bush, and I recently learnt the Clawed-Toenails Hex, and ooh I love the Mean Green Bogey Machine-”

“Yes, that sounds tempting,” Kibum cut him off quickly. “But unfortunately, my target already has froggy eyes, a receding hairline, and he’s rather caveman-like as it is so I doubt extra underarm hair or thick toenails would make a difference. And don’t even get me started on his sneezes. God, I think he aims onto my side of the room on purpose.” Kibum blanched and shuddered as images of vile, green snot covering his bed entered his mind. “No, I think I’m looking for something rather different here. Perhaps - oh, I don’t know - something to make him stop talking all the time?”

“I’m sure I can manage that,” the young witch responded eagerly. “I’ll just need you to give me some more details about your target at some point.”

Kibum clapped his hands once in confirmation. “Perfect, that’s settled then. When will the hex take effect by?”

“If I go for it tonight, you should see the effects by tomorrow? If you don’t see results within 2 days, feel free to call me or drop by now that you know where I live.”

“Wonderful. I’ll transfer the money to your bank account tonight, just send me the details on the number that I texted you from earlier.”

And with that, Kim Kibum waltzed out of the demon-witch’s apartment, smirking with self-satisfaction as he congratulated himself on the affordable but invaluable deal he had just made.

***

Lee Taemin closed the door behind the lofty vampire he’d just offered his services to and sagged against it, breathing a sigh of relief.

He’d done it. He’d finally managed to get a client, and Kibum hadn’t even asked to negotiate on the price.

Slowly, he stood up and switched on the lights, blowing out his candles as he passed them. Now for actually tackling the problem of the hex itself. To some level, Taemin knew that the answer might be in one of the unopened textbooks that now littered his living room floor, but he preferred a quick Naver search for cases as specific as this.

He grinned as he moved through the beaded curtain framing the entrance to his bedroom. Good thing he’d managed to break his bedroom door within a week of moving in. The string curtain was originally meant to be a makeshift barrier until he saved up enough money to get the door fixed, but he’d seen Kibum admiring it as he glanced around the apartment.

Taemin swung his arms happily and jumped backwards onto the mattress, immediately regretting it as his back hit the lumpy surface. But even the pain wasn’t enough to keep a stupid grin from spreading across his face.

***

MAY 24: 2 days later

“So, what do you guys think?” Minho asked, animatedly shaking the ISAC leaflet in his friends’ faces.

“Literally all I can see at the moment is a sheet of paper waving around,” Jonghyun laughed, “Hold it still for a second.”

Minho stopped moving it immediately, and smoothed the leaflet out on the table in front of them so his friends could see what was written on it.

“ISAC: Intra-faculty Sports Annual Competition.” Jinki read out loud. “More details to be announced in one week’s time.”

“Yep! ISAC is being reinstated this year, after 3 years of them discontinuing the competition,” Minho explained. “It used to be the biggest competition at uni, where students form their own teams and compete at a chosen sport every year.”

Understanding dawned on Jonghyun’s face. “Ah, I’ve heard some of the seniors mentioning this before. Wasn’t it something where all the departments would compete against each other? It was a huge deal back in the day, and the teams who won received a monetary prize that they could spend on improving whatever campus facilities they chose to spend the money on. That’s why the sports department has lockers for their sports kit but the Arts department still doesn’t have a place where we can store our musical instruments.”

Minho nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. The university stopped running the competition 3 years ago because they received too many complaints about unfairness and the sports department always winning, but this year they’re bringing back a slightly different version of the competition. All they’ve announced so far is that the chosen sport for this year is basketball. So what do you think?”

“It sounds perfect,” Jonghyun said encouragingly.

“Yep. I’m sure you’d be great at basketball!” Jinki added, before scooping out a spoonful of tteokbokki.

Minho blinked. “Not ‘you’, I think you mean ‘we’.”

Jonghyun snorted and clapped Jinki’s back as he choked on his food. “You want us to play basketball?”

“Well, yeah. Basketball requires a team of five players, so I was hoping I could count you guys in, maybe persuade Kibum, and then we’d only need one more person.”

Jonghyun cocked his head to one side and exchanged a glance with Jinki. “He’s kidding, right?”

Jinki mournfully shook his head. “No, I think not.”

Jonghyun laughed and grabbed Jinki’s free arm, lifting it up and brandishing it in Minho’s general direction. Minho barely avoided an unintended slap across the face as Jonghyun spoke. “See this? This is limp, uncooked ramen.”

Jinki pouted a little. “Hey, I have biceps. They’re just a little less visible than yours.”

Jonghyun ignored him and continued. “And I’m 173cm tall-”

“It’s actually 170cm,” Jinki interjected helpfully.

“-with insoles,” Jonghyun snapped, giving Jinki a withering look. “So please explain how you expect us to compete in an inter-faculty basketball competition against giants who are at least 180cm and have probably been practicing their dribbling skills since they were in their mother’s wombs.”

Minho’s eyes gleamed. “Aha, but that’s where you’re wrong. It isn’t an inter-faculty basketball competition but instead intra -faculty; this year, each department has its own competition to make it fair as the number of students has increased so much over the last few years anyway. Which means the sports department giants will be making their own teams and playing amongst themselves, and we’ll be playing against others in the Arts faculty. Think about it, so many people who’ve never even held a ball in their life.”

“Like us,” Jinki pointed out..

“Okay, fine, so that changes things a little,” Jonghyun acknowledged. “But you realise there are some very athletic people even in the Arts department? And most of all, ISAC had been running for 8 years, and from what I’ve heard, not once have any of the winning team members been Odd.”

“Which is exactly why this is so important! We could be setting a new standard for the Odd, showing everyone that we’re not to be underestimated by humans!”

Jinki raised his eyebrows at that. “Aren’t you human yourself though?”

Minho shrugged. “Fair point, but I live in the Odd community, and the rest of our team will probably only have Odd members anyway. In fact, we could even use your supernatural talents to our advantage.”

Jonghyun snorted loudly. “As a spring fairy, my magic is extremely limited and his only supernatural talent-” – Jonghyun jabbed a thumb at Jinki – “-besides eating is shapeshifting into a rabbit.”

Jonghyun casually swiped a thumb across Jinki’s cheek as he spoke, wiping away a speck of sauce.

Minho’s eyes lingered on Jinki’s surprise and the way he subtly shifted away from Jonghyun, instead opting to dab at his own cheek with a napkin. He also registered the way Jonghyun’s eyes cast downward at Jinki’s response, making Minho frown. He wasn’t sure if he was reading too much into it, but there seemed to be a strange undercurrent of tension between the two of them recently.

He had first met Jonghyun almost a year ago now, and they’d taken a liking to each other straight away. Minho, Jonghyun and Jinki shared the same embarrassing sense of humour, so he’d been surprised to find out that Kibum, Jonghyun’s other close friend, was in fact the polar opposite. He was temperamental and sarcastic, but somehow had a soft spot for Jinki and especially Jonghyun. The two of them had recommended Kibum as a mutual friend when Minho was looking for someone to room with, and Minho was thankful that everything worked out perfectly. That was, of course, before Minho had met Kibum.

“Lunch break is almost over,” a sharp voice rang out. “Let’s go, Jjong.”

Speak of the devil.

Minho looked up, an automatic scowl forming on his face at the sight of roommate, before he remembered to school his expression into a more neutral one. He had to be civil to Kibum if he wanted any chance of adding him to his currently tentative basketball team.

A strange feeling overcame him; a curious mix of apprehension, regret and something else that left a foul taste in his mouth, but the weirdest thing was the slight tugging sensation he felt along with the emotions.

Kibum gave him a cursory once over, and Minho could tell he was alert despite the bored look on his face. “Is he boring everyone with his pointless babbling again?”

“Ooh, everyone’s favourite moody vampire,” Jonghyun grinned brightly. “Come join the party. Ming was just explaining why he thinks we’d make an absolutely terrible basketball team but should try out for ISAC anyway.”

Kibum groaned. “Ugh, not the stupid basketball competition again.”

Jinki whipped his head back and forth between them. “Wait, have you two discussed this already?”

“He literally won’t shut up about it.” Kibum rolled his eyes. “And about how the Odd have never won before, but this year is the year for change. He seems to have forgotten that he’s human though, even if he does live at Odd accommodation.”

Minho smirked in triumph. “Aha, so you were listening to me.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m any closer to participating in this stupid pity project of yours.” Minho could feel the contempt radiating from Kibum as the latter placed a hand on Jonghyun’s shoulder. “Come on, some of us actually have to study to not get kicked out of university.”

As the two of them left to go to lectures, Minho turned to Jinki.

“Was it just me or were the waves of hatred he emanates whenever he sees me particularly strong today?” he asked.

Jinki shrugged. “Seemed pretty normal to me.”

Maybe Minho had just imagined it, but he had felt a very prominent feeling of dislike, or something along those lines, directed towards him. To be honest, Jinki wasn’t the best person to ask about it, because as much as he was perceptive to other people’s emotions, he could be equally oblivious at times.

 As he finished up his own lunch, Minho’s gaze dropped to the bowl of tteokbokki. Maybe Jinki wouldn’t notice if he swiped a few spoons, he thought longingly, as his stomach growled loudly.

***

Kibum’s stomach growled loudly.

He’d skipped lunch in order to stay behind and speak to a professor about how his grades had been dropping recently, and now he was not only frustrated but also hungry.

“Did you eat anything today?” Jonghyun asked him, as they settled into the lecture theatre.

“No, but I’m fine. Vampires don’t need much food anyway.”

Jonghyun turned to him with concern. “Your stomach begged to differ a few seconds ago. If not human food, you should at least have had a packet of animal blood or something?”

Kibum closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to relieve the headache he could feel forming. “I spent most of our lunch break talking to Professor Yoon about my grades. He said they’ve been dropping consistently over the last few assignments, and if I want to make up for them, I might have to take on an extracurricular project that will help me gain some extra points.”

Jonghyun placed a comforting hand on Kibum’s shoulder, and Kibum leaned into the touch slightly, glad for its warmth. “Have you looked anything up yet?”

“I did some research after we finished talking,” Kibum sighed. “And I found lots of interesting projects, essay writing competitions and volunteering opportunities. But they all had specific requirements which meant they were designed for certain degree programmes, and none of them were for students doing a Performing Arts degree. Because it’s only been 3 weeks since the new year began, the official list of extra credit projects hasn’t been uploaded onto the university website, but it’s going to be updated next week. Hopefully, there’ll be something on there which I can participate in.”

“What happens if there are no projects this year for Performing Arts students?” Jonghyun asked.

Kibum laughed sourly. “Then I guess I’ll be kicked off the course.”

Jonghyun gaped at that. “No, they wouldn’t take such drastic measures, right? It hasn’t even been a month since the year began, we have almost an entire year until final exams!”

Kibum shook his head. “Apparently the education panel have reasonable grounds to assume I won’t pass the year based off my final results from last year, the assignments we’ve done so far this year and, most of all, my attendance.”

“That’s not fair!” Jonghyun protested. “Your attendance is low because you’re a vampire - your sleep cycle can’t be changed, and you’ve been so exhausted since the year began that it’s no wonder you can’t keep up with assignments.”

“Yeah, well, since when does Seoul National University care about its Odd student population? As long as they have enough Odd students to maintain their diversity and minorities inclusion quota, one vampire won't make a difference to them.” Kibum swallowed the bitter taste on his tongue. “The university’s excuse is that they’ve started running evening lectures for nocturnal species, but I’ve been to a few of those and they’re so shit that I may as well go to morning lectures instead. The professors are tired and unsympathetic, and they look like they’re being forced to stand there and teach.” Kibum paused, and couldn’t help but mutter, “Must be nice to be a human sometimes.”

Jonghyun raised his eyebrows at that. “Is that why you hate Minho so much?”

“I don’t hate him,” Kibum said defensively. “I just hate his attitude. Everything comes so easy for him, but he doesn’t appreciate it at all. His family’s rich, but he still lives in our crappy one-room apartment. He’s human, but he chooses to live in an area filled with Odd people, a long way out from the main campus. And worst of all, his attendance and performance are almost as poor as mine, despite the fact that he has no reason to not be turning up to lectures, but he just doesn’t care. Case in point, he didn’t bother turning up for this lecture even though it’s after lunch.”

Jonghyun gave Kibum a look, and Kibum let out a short breath. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jonghyun said, although he was still looking at him funnily. “It’s just that you seem to have a very strong opinion about everything he does, but have you ever tried understanding his point of view?”

Kibum stayed silent, so Jonghyun took that as a no. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t judge other people’s behaviour until you’ve been in their shoes,” was the last thing he said to Kibum before the lecture began.

Jonhyun’s words replayed in Kibum’s mind the entire time.

-

The walk home from college was a little cold and extremely weird.

Kibum tried to think of extra credit project ideas (but to no avail) as he walked through the narrow streets. The relatively unclean pavement, with empty cans and plastic bags littering the sides, was enough to indicate that he was in the Seojjok Man neighborhood where Odd students resided.

He was in the process of kicking an empty bottle of soju out of his way when he heard a loud voice saying, “Not him again.”

He looked around in confusion. He was sure he was alone in the alleyway, but perhaps it had been someone from the main road nearby talking too loudly on their phone as they walked past.

That he could’ve ignored, except ten minutes later, when Kibum was three streets down, it was followed by someone yelling, “Will he just leave me alone?!”

Kibum turned, certain that there was someone there this time, but again, he couldn’t see anyone other than an old lady shuffling down the road. Either he was going crazy and hearing voices or… well, Kibum couldn’t really think of any other explanation, and he continued walking home, albeit this time significantly faster than before.

By the time he reached their apartment, there was a thin sheen of sweat on his philtrum and his cheeks were slightly red.

He was greeted by the sight of his roommate lounging on the only couch in their cramped living room, simultaneously inhaling popcorn, watching a K-drama on his laptop and exuding an aura of gloom. Kibum had lived with Minho long enough to recognise by now that this was atypical behaviour for him, but he chose not to comment on it as he entered the room.

Maybe this was just a strange day for everyone.

Minho looked up as his phone rang, checking the caller ID and tossing it back on the floor.

His voice echoed through the room even more loudly than usual. “ For fuck’s sake.”

So it seemed like his roommate’s voice was still completely fine. Surely the hex should have taken effect by now?

Minho’s phone buzzed loudly on the floor, bringing Kibum’s thoughts back to the present.

Kibum raised his eyebrows when Minho’s eyes shot daggers at his phone again. “Who is it?”

“None of your business,” Minho replied, a little more vehemently than necessary.

A weird pang of anger mixed with worry suddenly hit Kibum.

I don’t know why he keeps calling me, it’s not like he cares.

“It’s not like who cares?” Kibum asked exasperatedly. "If you're gonna talk to me, at least do it properly."

Minho stared at him. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Well of course you did,” Kibum rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’m a fucking mind reader.”

He decided to leave the subject alone. Clearly Minho was bothered by the mysterious caller, and although Kibum was mildly curious about it, it wasn’t his place to intrude. He unwrapped his scarf slowly, watching his roommate drop a few popcorn kernels on the couch, but he was too engrossed in his drama to even realise.

Ugh, the couch will be littered with popcorn , Kibum thought.

Minho peeled his eyes away from his drama (a drama? Kibum couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Minho watching anything other than sports on his laptop!) and glared at Kibum.  “Gosh, I’ll clean up the sofa later. Just let me be for now.”

Kibum froze, his hand still lingering on his partly unwrapped scarf. Although Minho seemed to be was really out of it, Kibum himself felt perfectly fine. And he knew he definitely hadn’t said that out loud.

What in the world was going on?

A niggling idea began to form at the back of Kibum's mind. But no - surely, it couldn’t be? He must be wrong. But just in case, he should make sure his idea wasn’t possible, right?

He channeled his thoughts into a yelling voice and screamed as loudly as he could in his own mind, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!

Minho jumped on the couch and paused his drama, scowling. “Kibum shut the fuck up. I heard you the first time and I just told you I’d clean up once I’m done!”

Oh lord, no. Kibum had to leave right now. He quickly rewrapped his scarf around his neck and muttered a quick, “I’m heading out again,” although to be completely honest, he wasn’t sure if it was necessary.

Not only because Minho didn’t particularly seem to care if he was heading out, but also because they seemed to be able to hear each other’s thoughts.

As soon as he was outside, he practically sprinted away from their apartment, as if putting physical distance between them would separate their thoughts from each other.

He punched a certain witch’s number into his phone as he walked. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted that little brat. It had all seemed sort of dodgy at first - the crude poster, the demon who claimed to be a witch, and the price, the goddamn too-good-to-be-true price - but he’d ignored his suspicions because he’d been so exhausted and desperate.

And now Kibum had a very strong feeling that this entire mind-reading thing, whatever it was, had something to do with the young witch he’d hired.

Except a cool female voice on the other end of his phone informed him that the number he had dialled did not exist. Kibum checked the number again, but it was definitely saved as ‘Francesco’. After the sixth try, he gave up on trying to call him.

It was fine, he told himself. He could just go to the witch’s flat in person - after all, he knew his address. No point getting too worked up about it; God only knew what Choi Minho could hear through their apparent connection, and he didn’t want to risk him finding anything out. Kibum was sure it could be fixed within a day or two if he just got a hold of Francesco and asked him what went wrong.

With that, he took a deep breath and suppressed the seed of panic planting itself in his mind, putting all his energy into marching to the witch’s apartment instead.

***

1 hour later

There hadn’t been many occasions when Minho had to resist the urge to kill Kim Kibum.

Sure, there were times when he wished his roommate was less cold, and times when he wanted to shake the sarcasm out of him, but he couldn’t think of a point in his life when he had to genuinely suppress the urge to murder.

That was before the vampire had abruptly decided to flee from their apartment, only to return half an hour later by flinging the door open and collapsing theatrically onto the couch.

“I’m doomed,” Kibum wailed. “We’re both doomed. The entire world is doomed. Why didn’t I see this coming?”

Minho could sense an aura of despair and almost mania around his roommate. “Calm down Kibum, I can literally feel the misery flowing out of you.”

Kibum let out a derisive laugh and waved his hand with a flourish. “That is exactly why we’re doomed! I can’t believe I was scammed by a fucking demon! Witch? Ha. I should’ve known, he looked like he was still at school.”

Minho frowned. “You’re not making any sense. Why don’t you slow down and start from the beginning?”

And that was how Choi Minho found out his roommate of not even 2 months had hired a witch to hex him, only for the hex to backfire and said witch to mysteriously disappear off the face of the planet.

In all honesty, Minho wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole situation. The anger was understandable - he had every right to be seething right now. But he was also astonished. He hadn’t thought he’d done anything to make Kibum go as far as to hex him. In some twisted way, the situation was also darkly amusing; the absurdity of it all and the irony of the fact that instead of not being able to hear him, Kibum would be stuck with hearing even more of his voice wherever he went. 

And beneath the shock, rage and grim humour of it all, Minho had to admit he felt a little… well, hurt. Was he truly such an awful person to live with that Kibum was driven to make such an extreme decision? Was that how his family had felt when he lived at home?

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Now was not the time to descend into that spiral of thoughts. First and foremost, he had to be rational.

“You’ve definitely tried calling this Francesco?” he asked Kibum.

“Fourteen times,” Kibum lamented. “That’s why I went to his place, but when I rang the doorbell, no one opened the door. The werewolf living next to him said no one by the name of Francesco lives there.”

Minho tried to keep his cool, although their case seemed to be getting worse and worse by the minute. “Okay, well maybe there’s a valid explanation for all of this. Maybe he’s just…” - Minho racked his brains but came up with nothing - “...busy,” he finished weakly.

Kibum groaned. “I heard that. I heard that long silence in your mind where you tried to think of something. Face it, there’s no way even you could spin this into a positive thing.”

Minho ignored him. “Tomorrow,” he said firmly. “First thing tomorrow morning, I don’t care if I have to drive your lazy vampire ass out of bed, but we’re going to find this Francesco and demand that he fixes this issue. And after that, I expect an apology and for you to do me a huge favour to make up for this mess.”

To his surprise, Kibum didn’t protest at that, and he felt a weak flutter of regret, which Minho now recognised wasn’t his own. Perhaps his roommate did feel a little guilty after all.

"Make that multiple huge favours," he added.

-

The next morning saw Kibum banging on a certain witch’s door, with Minho hovering awkwardly behind him as he watched.

“It’s 5am, Kibum,” he winced. “Maybe tone down the knocking a little.”

“I’m telling you, this ‘Francesco’ doesn’t even live here,” Kibum insisted over his banging. “But whoever does better ma-”

Minho never found out what they’d better do because at that moment, there was a loud series of clacks, and Kibum broke off at the sound of a stopper being opened. Immediately, Kibum put his entire body weight against the door, shoving against it as hard as he could. The door flung open easily, with no resistance, so Kibum stumbled forward and there was a loud yap.

Minho watched from behind, horrified as the dog Kibum’s foot had landed on scampered away and another dog began barking at Kibum in turn.

Kibum immediately turned to Minho. “See?! I told you he wouldn’t live here! There were no dogs las-”

“Mr Kibum?” A small voice drifted through Kibum’s panicked one.

Minho looked at the young boy standing in the doorway, as Kibum stopped and gaped at him. The kid was wearing a white chicken onesie, his black hair tousled and eyes still half closed.

“You!” Kibum said with disbelief. “You actually live here?”

The boy looked confused. “Where else would I be living?”

Now it was Kibum’s turn to look surprised. “But the neighbours said no one by the name of Francesco lives here!”

“Ah, well, about that,” he mumbled. “My real name is Lee Taemin. Francesco is my witch pseudonym that I use for business.”

“Then why the fuck were you ignoring my calls, if you aren’t a scammer?” Kibum demanded.

“Ah, I lost my phone, so I had to deactivate my number,” Taemin explained quickly.

Kibum continued staring at the witch in bewilderment. He looked like he had so much to say that he didn’t know where to begin.

“Um, why are you here anyway?” Taemin continued, eyes widening as he finally noticed Minho’s presence behind the vampire.

“Why don’t we all go inside and sit down first?” Minho suggested, and the young boy opened the door wider, allowing him to step through.

Taemin’s studio looked nothing like what Kibum had described it to be. The entire place was a mess. An occasionally flickering tubelight overhead illuminated the room, and Minho supposed it was probably easier to make out the multiple questionable stains on the floor and layers of dust across the books when the place wasn’t lit merely by candles.

Taemin led them to a small couch, both dogs following him eagerly, and he gestured for his visitors to sit down. With Minho’s broad frame, he could feel his side pressed against Kibum’s taut body. A pang of something – nostalgia? Regret? – twisted in his gut as he saw Kibum’s eyes darting left to watch the dog he’d stepped on hide behind Taemin’s legs. Hm. So it seemed Kibum had a soft spot for dogs.

Minho surveyed the scene in front of him. Surely, he thought as he took in the scrawny kid standing in front of them, this couldn’t be the witch Kibum had hired to hex him. He noticed Taemin looking at him uncertainly and realised he hadn’t introduced himself.

“I’m Choi Minho,” he said. “Kibum’s roommate.”

“I know,” Taemin replied nervously. 

Of course he fucking knew. Minho was the target of his hex after all. The kid was probably wondering how he could still speak.

Despite the fact that Minho had been fully intending to threaten the so called ‘Francesco’ when they found him, his determination seemed to have melted upon meeting the young boy with his puppies clinging to him. He looked more like a sweet angel to Minho than anything else.

He turned to Kibum instead. “ This is the fiendish demon you were talking about?” he asked, as Taemin pulled at his onesie sleeves.

“He looks more intimidating with makeup,” Kibum muttered.

Taemin smiled awkwardly, and whatever residual frustration Minho felt towards him dissolved as his round cheeks lifted with the movement. Poor kid seemed terrified of Kibum. After all, it wasn’t every day a deranged vampire barged into your home at 5am and accused you of fraud.

No one was to blame for this situation other than Kibum, Minho decided. 

“Yeah, I think my clients take me more seriously when I look the part,” Taemin agreed, with a small smile.

Cute was the word Minho had been looking for. Lee Taemin was so damn cute.

“So, are you studying witchcraft at university?” Minho asked.

“Nope, I’m actually doing a degree in dance. The witchcraft is more of a side business.”

Minho’s ears perked up at that. “Dance? So you’re part of the Arts faculty?”

Taemin nodded, and despite the severity of their current predicament, the gears automatically began turning in Minho’s head. As a dancer, he’d probably be agile and light on his feet , Minho thought with increasing excitement. Probably good stamina too.

“Would you just shut up for two minutes?” Kibum burst out abruptly, right as Taemin opened his mouth to speak.

The witch hastily closed his mouth, backing away from Kibum slightly.

“Not you,” Kibum added with gusto. “I meant him,” he said, glaring at Minho.

Taemin looked at them strangely. “Er… but he didn’t say anything yet?”

“That’s the problem,” Kibum snapped. “And it’s entirely your fault!”

Taemin took a tentative step backwards, and Minho sighed. “What Kibum is trying to say is the hex he asked you to cast on me-” – Taemin bit his lip anxiously at that – “-seems to have backfired. Somehow, we can hear each other’s thoughts now.”

Taemin blinked rapidly. “What?! How?”

Minho grimaced. “Not sure, but it must have something to do with the hex. Can you think of anything that could have caused it to happen? Maybe something went wrong when you tried preparing the hex?”

The witch cocked his head to one side. “There was a minor hitch but no major complications as far as I can remember. The hex I used seemed pretty fool-proof.”

***

MAY 22: The night of the hex

Lee Taemin was fond of substitutions.

Not the mathematical kind, but rather the recipe kind. He was a strong believer of the idea that there was always an alternative that would work if one kept the basic concept in mind, whether it was something as simple replacing sugar with honey for sweetening or substituting egg with a can of coke as a leavening agent. As long as the cake expanded in the oven, what difference did it make if it tasted a little coke-like?

Luckily, the instructions he had found for a “shut your mouth hex” from a quick Naver search didn’t require any complex ingredients or tools. The only thing he lacked was the ability to sew – but that could be easily fixed with a roll of black tape he’d dug up from the depths of his cupboard instead. 

Taemin set everything he needed on the table. Two tomatoes, a dragon blood incense candle, a marker pen, a knife, and a roll of tape.

First, he lit the incense candle to signify the beginning of the hex. Using the marker pen, he drew two eyes and a mouth on both tomatoes, and then scribbled ‘Kim Kibum’ and ‘Choi Minho’ on the back of each one. Perfect, he thought, as he turned the tomatoes over in his hands to admire his work. Essentially, whilst the incense candle was burning, each tomato represented their heads, so he carefully used the knife to slit across the ‘mouth’ of the tomato labelled Kibum.

Some tomato juice squirted out and Taemin stepped back a little, placing it back on the table and hastily picking up Minho’s tomato instead. The instructions he’d found for the hex (off an Amino community, conveniently) had described the slitting open of both tomatoes’ “mouths” as indicating the respective person’s ability to speak, so all he had to do was then sew up the slit of Minho’s ‘mouth’ using a black thread (except Taemin would have to use tape to shut off Minho’s mouth instead as he wasn’t particularly good at sewing) in order to shut him up.

However, right when Taemin was about to make a slit in the Minho tomato’s mouth, he was interrupted by a short bark and the sensation of a dog careening straight into his legs. Taemin stumbled and caught himself on the edge of the table, only to realise that the knife in his hand had caused a large gash in the ‘head’ portion of the Minho tomato.

“Adam!” Taemin groaned, but his dog ignored him in favour of rubbing up against Taemin’s legs. “Look what you made me do!”

He eyed the tomato juice seeping out of the Minho tomato’s head. It was too late to start over, as the incense candle was already burning, and each tomato was now linked to Choi Minho and Kim Kibum.

He looked around, half expecting the haughty vampire to jump out of the shadows and scold him for being irresponsible, but of course no one was there to witness his mistake. Which technically meant that if he fixed it, no one would know something went wrong.

Taemin grinned to himself, picking up the tomato labelled Kibum. Every good witch knew that the key to fixing a mistake like this was to restore balance and equilibrium. And the easiest way to do that would be making a slit in the same position in the head of the Kibum tomato. That way, it balanced out as there would be a slit in the head of each tomato, therefore re-establishing the default tomato as a tomato with a head slit, and he could continue on with the hex as normal.

Once that was done, he used the knife to make another careful cut in the Minho tomato to represent his mouth (this time making sure he actually cut where he had drawn the mouth on the tomato). The most crucial part was the next one: Taemin tore some of the black tape and stuck it over the ‘mouth’ of the Minho tomato, signifying that Minho’s mouth would be shut from now on.

He looked down proudly at his simple but effective work. Sure, it looked a little messy with an extra slit across the forehead of each tomato, and the black tape was very loosely stuck to the Minho tomato because of all the juices oozing out of it, but not bad for his first hex.

Finally, he read out a slightly smudged incantation (but still the only somewhat relevant one) he’d found from a spell notebook he’d kept when he was in his pre-teens, fresh to the world of witchcraft.

My least favourite place,

Your red lips have tightly shut.

Your kiss has left me,

In this long silence,

In the long silence .

Taemin paused for effect, and finally, with a heavy puff, blew out the incense candle to complete the hex. The piece of tape he’d attached to the Minho tomato’s mouth fluttered off as he did so. Taemin frowned. If it had fallen off after the incense candle was completely blown out, it should be fine, as the tomato would not have been linked to Choi Minho by the time the mouth tape fell off – but if it fell off whilst the incense was still burning, it would mean that the hex wouldn’t work, as Choi Minho’s mouth would be unsealed again.

Taemin was fairly certain, however, that he had managed to end the hex and blow out the incense candle before the tape had fallen off. And for his first customer, Lee Taemin was more than content with being just fairly certain, because what he was 100% certain about was that the vampire would come back for Taemin if the hex hasn't worked.

Poor Choi Minho, he thought with a slight sense of guilt. It sounded like he was going to have a hard time until the hex wore off.

***

MAY 25: Present day

“You mean performing some weird quasi-voodoo using tomatoes was your fool-proof method?!” Kibum spluttered.

Taemin pouted. “Hey, it was a legit method I found off Witchcraft Amino-” – Kibum started choking at that – “-and it kind of worked didn’t it?”

Minho slapped Kibum on the back, stopping when the vampire shot him a dark look. “So you think the cut across both tomato heads could be what's causing my thoughts and emotions to leak out of my heads into Kibum’s, and vice versa?” 

Taemin nodded. “I think that’s the most reasonable explanation.”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you just patch up the gash you made by accident in Minho’s head with the tape instead of slitting mine open too?” Kibum managed to spit out between coughs.

Taemin opened his mouth and closed it again. “I… didn’t actually think of that,” he admitted.

Kibum curled his hands into a tight fist, the veins in his arms bulging out, and Minho thought he might have an aneurysm soon. To be completely honest, he wasn’t sure if he felt sorry for Kibum or thought he deserved it. Of all the witches he could’ve hired, Minho was certain Kibum had found himself the most incompetent (but sweetest) one in Seoul.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Minho grinned. It was a lot easier to be cheerful now that a new beacon of hope was shining in his mind. “That means it must be easy to fix the issue. You find the tomatoes you used, seal off the gashes you accidentally made, and problem solved.”

 Kibum finally stopped coughing and took in a deep breath to steady himself. “Where are these tomatoes?”

“Er… about that,” Taemin smiled sheepishly. “My dog ate them.”

“YOUR DOG DID WHAT?!”

The chorus of panicked voices rang out in the room, and Minho and Kibum glared at each other as they both shouted the same thing.

“Now I’m even beginning to talk like him, gross,” Kibum whined.

Minho, meanwhile, started feeling his head using his fingers. “How am I still alive? If your dog ate the tomatoes, and the tomatoes were our heads, shouldn’t that mean…?” He trailed off as Taemin hastily waved his hand to stop that train of thoughts.

“No no, the tomatoes only represented your heads whilst the incense candle was burning. After I blew the candle out, they went back to being just regular old tomatoes again,” the witch reassured Minho. “But that also means we’ll have to find some other way of reversing the hex.”

Minho felt the panic settling in as he realised they could be stuck like this indefinitely; who knew when they would find an antidote for the hex? Kim Kibum, the vampire who hated him, would be able to read Minho’s thoughts, his emotions, his deepest fears. The mere thought of it made Minho want to puke.

“Don’t worry,” Taemin said quickly. “I’ll make sure I find a way to fix this. Hexes are much milder than curses, so their antidote is usually a lot simpler. Just give me a few days to do some research and I know I can fix this for you. You’ll get a full refund and everything!”

Kibum laughed derisively. “Sweetie, I think this deserves compensation for mental trauma, not just a refund!”

The witch’s eyebrows furrowed, and he began visibly quivering. Minho huffed. It wasn’t the poor kid’s fault that Kibum had decided to drag him into their personal issues. 

“Look, none of this is your fault,” Minho said. “We’d really appreciate it if you could find a solution for this as soon as possible, but neither of us blame you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kibum muttered.

Minho rounded on him. “You do not get a say in this. The reason we’re even in this situation is because of you and your childishness, so don’t you dare to lay even one iota of blame on this poor kid,” he spat, finally losing his cool.

Taemin stopped trembling, and Minho shot him a reassuring smile to make it clear that he wasn’t angry at him. The boy returned it with a shy smile of his own, and Minho felt his anger vanish again, although he could feel frustration pouring through the bond he and Kibum shared.

Minho knew his own anger was more volatile but very short-lived, as he liked to forgive and let go of his anger, whereas Kibum could stay mad about something for days on end. However, Kibum didn’t say anything, so Minho took that to mean he agreed that their current situation was at least partly his own fault. Good. At least he acknowledged that much.

Minho stood up. “Then we’ll take your leave, Taemin. I think we should let you get back to sleep now. Please contact us if you think of anything at all that could fix this problem.”

Taemin wrung his hands together and nodded. “I swear I’ll find a way to reverse this. I just need a few days max.”

With that, Minho and Kibum exited the witch’s apartment.

-

The walk back to their apartment was awkward. Tension hung in the air between them, and Minho couldn’t help but notice that Kibum had been unusually quiet since he’d gone off at him in Taemin’s apartment.

Minho couldn’t take the silence longer. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

“No,” Kibum said dully.

“You know, I still can’t believe you hired someone - actually hired a witch - to hex me. If you have a problem with me, why don’t you just talk to me about it?”

“Uh-huh, and what would that achieve, other than another pointless argument?”

Minho scowled. “Oh, I don’t know, I might listen and actually try to change whatever it is that you have a problem with. I don’t see how you thought it was a good idea to involve a third person into our petty arguments without even trying to talk to me directly first!”

“That’s because I was so sick of your constant bitching!” Kibum exploded. “God, it made me so angry, I wasn’t thinking straight when I did it!”

Minho blinked. Constant bitching? All he could remember from the day of the argument was that he was trying to get Kibum to admit to his mistake, before Kibum had stormed off and decided to take matters into his own hands.

“The fact that I told you to admit you’d accidentally put salt in my coffee made you so angry that you decided to pay someone to hex me?

Kibum walked a little faster, but Minho easily adjusted his stride to match Kibum’s.

Rational human . Minho heard the words in his mind, and this time he knew it was through the connection they now shared, but he wasn’t sure why those words sounded familiar.

“No, you don’t understand.” Kibum’s voice wavered a little. “Every time, you just…” He trailed off, and Minho didn’t miss the way Kibum’s head ducked down as he picked up the pace even more.

Wait, was he- ? No, surely not. He was Kim Kibum, the spiteful vampire who made other people cry, not someone who would break down and cry in the middle of an argument himself.

Still, Minho reached out to place a hand on Kibum’s shoulder. “Kibum, wait. Are you-”

Kibum whirled around and knocked Minho’s hand away. A strong wave of fury and disgust coursed through their bond.  “Don’t you dare touch me with your precious human hands, Choi Minho. Wouldn’t want to dirty them with my vampire filth.”

What? What did the fact that he was a vampire have to do with anything?

Minho stood there, shellshocked, and all he could think about was Kibum’s glassy eyes and pink cheeks as the vampire stormed away from him.

***

MAY 28

The next few days were slightly better. Although Kibum hadn’t apologised or explained himself to Minho, he’d left a bowl of hot ramen on their table that evening (complete with Minho’s favourite chungyang pepper), hoping Minho understood that it was his way of trying to apologise. In turn, Minho had been more civil than usual, although Kibum wasn’t sure if that was because of the ramen or because he had seen Kibum crying that morning.

The memory of that day alone was enough to make Kibum want to curl up in embarrassment. It had been such a rollercoaster, thinking Taemin (or Francesco as he had thought of him) was a scammer, only to find out he wasn’t and that the hex could easily be reversed, but all in vain as it turned out Taemin’s dogs had eaten the tomatoes and they could be stuck hearing each other’s thoughts for what could be years if Taemin didn’t think of a solution. 

And when Minho had told Kibum that everything was his own fault, Kibum had realised that Minho wasn’t exactly wrong. If he hadn’t been so impulsive and taken such a drastic decision, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

In his defence, Kibum had just been so sick of Minho indirectly reminding him of the fact that he wasn’t human anymore. It had all built up to the point where something in Kibum had snapped, and he knew he had to do something about it. He didn’t particularly want to explain to Minho that his frustration stemmed from the fact that he was constantly reminded of how easy it was to be human. Kibum couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he felt when he looked at Minho, but he wasn’t really sure he wanted to.

Still, the last few days had been bearable. Not necessarily pleasant - after all, hearing Minho’s voice in head was tiring as fuck, and trying to conceal his own thoughts and emotions was even more exhausting. Kibum hated this feeling of being exposed where Minho, of all people, could hear what he was thinking.

Thankfully, the connection between the two of them seemed to only work at certain times. It was very strange, but over the last few days, they’d identified that it mainly occurred when one of them had a particularly loud thought or strong emotion. Which was why Kibum had been struggling to keep his emotions in check over the last few days. There was no way he’d let Choi Minho see inside his head at his most vulnerable points.

This was why the two of them had been abnormally mindful of the other, making sure they maintained a good distance (meaning they basically avoided each other as far as possible) so as not to upset the other.

There were some points, nevertheless, when it was impossible to avoid Minho. Such as when Kibum was hanging out with Jinki and Jjong.

“Alright, spit it out,” Jonghyun said.

Kibum looked up. “Are you talking to me?”

“Both of you,” Jonghyun replied, glancing at Minho. “You’ve been acting very weird.”

Minho raised his eyebrows, doing a good job at looking nonchalant. “Weird how?”

“Weird in the way you’ve both been avoiding eye contact for the last twenty five minutes,” Jinki pitched in. “And how you’re not really being yourselves, but like a milder, more toned down version of yourselves.”

Kibum inwardly cursed Jinki’s perceptiveness, whilst Minho rolled his eyes. “I have literally just spent the last half hour raving about how excited I am because the details for ISAC will be released tomorrow, and you’re saying I’m being mild?”

Jonghyun shook his head. “But that’s still not enough. The old Minho would have been even more pumped and unable to stop talking about it, and the old Kibum would’ve been a sarcastic, pessimistic little shit raining on Ming’s parade - it’s like you’ve become a hollow shell of your former selves,” he ended dramatically.

Kibum felt like laughing. In his opinion, Minho had been more than enthusiastic enough - he had felt the latter’s excitement and he’d lost track of the number of times Minho had tried convincing him to participate. 

He looked at Minho, and at the same time Minho looked at him, clearly having heard what he was thinking. Both of them averted their eyes quickly as soon as their eyes met.

Jinki raised his eyebrows. “See? That’s what we’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kibum shrugged.

Jinki looked between the two of them worriedly. “Did you guys fight or something?”

“No,” Kibum said, at the same time as Minho said, “Yes.”

What the hell was Minho trying to do?

“Yes,” Kibum amended. “But we fight at least six times a day, nothing new there.”

We should just tell them , he heard Minho’s voice say in his mind

No, Kibum thought firmly.

The one good thing about the hex was that it allowed them to communicate without having to speak out loud. Although strong emotions or thoughts were unintentionally transferred across their bond, any thought which Kibum consciously projected in his head (rather like projecting one’s voice when presenting in front of a large audience) could be heard by Minho.

But they might be helpful - Jjong knows some magic, he might be able to figure out a way to reverse this thing! Minho protested.

He is literally a spring fairy! He has no experience dealing with hexes whatsoever.

Minho huffed into his coffee as Jonghyun began pointing out all the ways in which they’d been acting weird recently. 

How long do you plan to hide this from them then? Who knows when we’ll even find a remedy? Minho’s voice piped up again in Kibum’s mind.

That was a fair point, and Kibum knew that. But still, the idea of explaining what he’d done to his friends was mortifying. He’d never hear the end of it from Jonghyun, and he had a strong feeling the mischievous fairy would be more of a hindrance than anything else.

We’ll deal with it when they find out , he replied mentally.

In that case, are you warming up to the idea of the basketball competition yet?

“For fuck’s sake!” His patience had been worn to the ground once Minho had figured out how to enter Kibum’s head with his stupid voice and even stupider ideas. There had not been a minute when his roommate had stopped pestering him about entering ISAC.

Belatedly, he realised he’d said that out loud, and his voice reverberated in the silence.

“Um, who are you talking to?”Jinki asked cautiously.

“Myself,” Kibum said through gritted teeth, as Minho tried to hide a smile behind his hand. “I’m annoyed at myself because I keep forgetting to check if the extra credits projects list has been updated yet.”

Jonghyun nodded sagely. “And that clearly explains why Choi Minho is giggling into his fist this very minute.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“Choi Minho is an idiot,” Kibum said as venomously as he could manage. “An idiot who can’t seem to keep his mind off the basketball competition for two minutes.”

“But Minho hasn’t said a word for the last ten minutes,” Jinki pointed out. “So I don’t see how that’s relevant unless you can, I dunno, read his mind or something-”

“AHA ha... ha...!” Minho abruptly broke out into loud, nervous laughter, trailing off slowly, whilst Kibum simultaneously let out a panicked, “What?! No!”

“-but we all know that would be ridiculous, right?” Jinki finished, eyes narrowing at their outbursts.

Jonghyun’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he said in a hushed voice, leaning forwards with both elbows on the table. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Kibum knew it was too late to backtrack now, but he tried to act casual. “What do you mean?”

“You two,” Jonghyun’s voice was even higher than usual with delight. “This thing you’re trying to hide from us. You have some weird telepathic thing going on, don’t you?!”

“How many trampolines did you need to jump to that conclusion?” Minho laughed again, his voice more stable this time.

Kibum had to admit, Minho was doing a semi-decent job at playing it off, but he was beginning to get an inkling that Jinki had somehow already figured it out. His words had seemed way too precise, despite the casual, almost dismissive, way he’d mentioned his theory.

“I mean, it’s not exactly jumping to conclusions when you make it so obvious,” Jinki said seriously, as Kibum and Minho exchanged a furtive glance. “You’re somehow communicating with each other without talking, aren't you? But the question is, how did this happen? Why? When did it start?”

Kibum groaned. There was no way of hiding it now. Maybe Minho was right. It was becoming exhausting to keep up this facade in front of his friends, and if they explained their situation, at least they could all try to think of a way to solve the issue. And at least Kibum would have someone to rant to again. He kind of missed being able to vent about his problems to Jonghyun or Jinki.

He swallowed his pride and looked at Minho, who seemed a little relieved that it had come down to this.

It’s for the best, he tried to tell himself miserably, as they proceeded to explain the entire situation to their friends.

***

6 hours later

Jinki wasn’t sure why he liked the rain so much.

He couldn’t remember if he’d always liked it, or if it had been a result of accumulating too many childhood memories filled with the sound of raindrops and a young Jonghyun’s sweet laughter. Jonghyun had certainly always liked the rain, and Jinki could see why; there was something calming about hearing the steady patter against the windows, something refreshing about breathing in the scent of the wet earth. Petrichor, he remembered, was the word for the smell, as a nine-year-old Jonghyun had proudly informed him.

These days, he particularly found comfort in the rain on evenings like this. When a blanket of darkness had enveloped the city, so thick that Jinki couldn’t see beyond two feet if he looked through the window, the gushing of the rain blocked out all other sounds from the outside world.

This was what he loved most. The feeling of being completely isolated from everything outside of this little home – could he even call it that? – that he shared with Jonghyun. Somehow, it made him feel a little closer to Jonghyun. It reminded him of the feeling of wet drops sliding off his skin, the adventures of folding paper boats and looking for baby frogs and jumping in puddles to see who could make the biggest splash.

With the same rain wrapping itself around their small apartment now, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed between the two of them. 

Jinki watched as Jonghyun plucked the strings of his bass guitar, a little more forcefully than necessary. The signs of frustration were obvious in the way he huffed every couple of minutes, pausing to flick his hair out of the way and hunch even further over his guitar.

“Maybe you should take a short break,” he suggested gently. 

He knew what Jonghyun could be like when he was in one of his moods. He would spend hours practicing the same segment over and over, progressively becoming more disheartened and therefore less able to create the music he wanted. The only way to end the cycle was by offering him a distraction, something to give his mind a break so that he could go back to it later in a better state of mind and with more focus.

Jonghyun let out yet another huff, but Jinki could see that he knew he was right.

“I have to submit this piece by next week,” Jonghyun said, putting the guitar down. “How is it possible to like something but hate it so much at the same time?”

“In the same way Minho and Kibum both like and hate each other at the same time?” Jinki tried.

Jonghyun let out a soft laugh, and Jinki’s heart wrenched at the tinkling sound. “How on earth did your mind reach that topic?”

“It’s kind of similar right? They both like and hate each other at the same time - well, not so much like as envy I guess, but they both seem to wish they have the qualities the other does,” Jinki amended.

Jonghyun nodded. “Not sure about Minho, but I think that’s definitely true in Kibum’s case. After he turned into a vampire, he’s been so exhausted and even more irritable than usual. Honestly, I think the timing is why being roommates hasn’t worked out for them, because right after turning into a vampire, Kibum’s had so much to deal with, and on top of everything else, he’s reminded of how much easier human life is every time he sees Minho.”

“And now they have to put up with hearing each other’s thoughts all the time,” Jinki sighed. “I don’t know how they’ll manage until the witch finds an antidote for the hex.”

Jonghyun’s eyes danced with mischief, and his ears perked up at the mention of the hex. Finally. He’d completely forgotten about the stress of musical piece he was working on.

“I think it could go one of two ways. Either they’ll have a hard time not killing each other oooor -” Jonghyun dragged the word out, apparently excited at the thought – “- it might help them finally learn to get along.”

He stood up and stretched, and Jinki’s gaze dropped to the small strip of stomach that was exposed as his t-shirt rode up. A sharp pain seared in his abdomen, and Jinki dragged his eyes away from the bare skin.

“Imagine me being able to read your mind all the time though,” Jinki countered. “Surely you’d feel like it was a violation of your privacy.”

“Not really,” Jonghyun said with a cheeky grin. “You can kind of already tell what I’m thinking anyway, I’m an open book.”

He reached out to ruffle Jinki’s hair, and the feel of his soft fingertips in Jinki’s hair was enough to make Jinki’s chest constrict. He instinctively ducked out of Jonghyun’s reach but saw something like hurt flash across Jonghyun’s eyes. He quickly fixed his hair, pretending as if the reason he’d moved away was because he didn’t want his hair to be messy.

Jonghyun seemed placated at that, and he flashed Jinki a smile. “I’m gonna go take a shower now. Do you mind heating up dinner? I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jinki said casually, although he could still feel the searing touch of Jonghyun’s fingers in his hair.

Jonghyun walked towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and Jinki finally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. They’d been friends since they were old enough to go to school, living on the same street, and they’d seen each other go through everything. He’d been there for Jonghyun when he was a keen child, eager to do well at school, as well as when he first decided he wanted to be a musician in his pre-teens, and even when he’d gone through his awkward teenage phase with his lasagne hair and colourful skinny jeans. 

When had their dynamic changed so much? He knew it must be recent, because it wasn’t long ago when affectionate hugs and lingering touches were natural between the two of them, but Jinki couldn’t pinpoint when he’d begun to feel this tense atmosphere every time Jonghyun touched him.

What Jinki did know was why. It was just something he didn’t want to think about. Even when thinking about the ‘when’ instead of the ‘why’, Jinki knew he’d slowly started becoming acutely aware of their physical contact when they were teenagers. It had gotten worse when Jinki realised that over time, Jonghyun had become the popular one, and both guys and girls flirted with the openly bisexual fairy. Jinki couldn’t blame them. Jonghyun was charming by nature, and he had this quality about him that drew people in, made them want to be closer to him. To this day, Jinki still couldn’t fathom why Jonghyun was still such good friends with him.

His musings were interrupted by the bathroom door being unlocked, and a shirtless Jonghyun coming back out. Jinki had difficulty tearing his eyes away from the hard planes of Jonghyun’s body, with the way his collarbone stuck out and his biceps flexed as he padded across the room.

“Sorry, forgot the towel,” Jonghyun chuckled, grabbing it from where the drying rack.

Jinki swallowed, as his throat had gone dry, and he hated himself for it. He knew he shouldn’t be staring, but his eyes kept drifting back to Jonghyun’s supple back muscles as he walked back towards the bathroom.

Jonghyun’s step faltered almost as he’d reached the door. He turned around. “Jinki, you… you know you’re my best friend, right?” Jonghyun asked softly, almost sounding hesitant.

“Of course,” Jinki replied immediately. “You’re mine too.”

Jonghyun’s cheeks lifted into a reassured grin, and he disappeared into the bathroom again, leaving Jinki standing outside with a hollow feeling in his chest.

Best friend . He knew that was how Jonghyun thought of him, and he knew that was how he should feel too, but as of late, he couldn’t deny the emotions he’d been ignoring over the last few years.

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend . The rain drummed out the syllables out onto their window, with the gushing sound of water whispering the same words repeatedly. Best friend .

***

MAY 31 - two days later

Kim Kibum had sort of lost all faith in Taemin after the hex disaster, which was why he was extremely surprised to wake up to a phone call the next morning, only to hear the letter screaming on the other end, "I FOUND IT! I FOUND IT!"

"Found what?" Kibum asked groggily.

"The cure to the hex," Taemin replied excitedly.

Those five words were enough to wake Kibum up as though he'd been doused with a bucket full of ice water, and on the other side of the room, he saw Minho jolting awake too.

"You're sure it'll work?!" Kibum asked urgently.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Taemin replied. "The only thing is, it might take a while before we can implement it, so I need to show you in person first. Text me your address and I'll meet you there in twenty minutes."

Kibum wanted to kiss him through the phone.

"I'm sending my address to you right now! And I'll also let some of my friends know, they might be able to help speed up the process or think of some ideas."

"Sure, see you in a bit!"

Kibum finished typing their address and turned to Minho to check he'd kept up with the conversation.

Minho was now sitting upright, looking fully awake. “Did Taemin say he found the cure to the hex?”

Kibum nodded, almost unable to speak. He could feel relief and excitement mingling through the bond they shared, although he wasn’t sure if the feelings were his own or Minho’s or both.

“He said there’s an issue and it’s easier to explain in person, so he’s coming over in twenty minutes,” Kibum finally said. “We have to call Jonghyun and Jinki as well, they might be able to help out.”

Minho’s fingers were already flying over his phone, keying in Jonghyun’s number - Jinki’s was probably on silent, and Kibum could never understand the point of having a phone if you were only going to check it once every few days.

Kibum skipped his usual morning skincare routine and simply brushed his teeth, preparing a large pot of coffee and several slices of toast for breakfast. He had a feeling they’d all need it for the upcoming conversation.

Just as he was setting out side plates, the doorbell to their apartment rang, and Minho opened it to reveal a hyper looking Jonghyun and a sleepy Jinki.

“Where’s Taemin?” Jonghyun asked, looking around as Minho let them in.

“Not here yet,” Kibum replied, fidgeting with the tablecloth after putting the coffee on the table. “Breakfast?”

Jinki nodded gratefully, taking a slice of toast as Kibum poured him a pot of coffee. Minho, meanwhile, seemed too agitated to even sit down for breakfast - a rarity for him - and he paced up and down the small space of their living room.

No one said anything as they waited, too caught up in their own thoughts (or in Jinki’s case, still a little too sleepy, Kibum thought), but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Kibum could still hear a dull torrent of thoughts swirling in Minho’s head, although it wasn’t too loud and relatively easy to tune out.

Finally, the doorbell rang, and Minho bolted to the door to open it. Lee Taemin walked into the apartment, looking a little nervous at the sight of so many people.

Kibum ushered him to the table, placing a slice of toast in his plate before Taemin could object, and gestured towards Jinki and Jonghyun. “Taemin, these are the friends I mentioned - Jinki is a shapeshifter, and Jonghyun is a spring fairy.”

Taemin nodded, beaming cherubically. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Oh my God,” Jonghyun whispered, his mouth almost hanging open. “He’s an angel.”

“A fairy,” Jinki agreed, smiling back sunnily. “A sweet, sugar plum fairy.”

“I know, right?” Minho exclaimed. “Doesn’t he just radiate innocence and purity? And now he’s come to us, bringing the cure like a holy saviour.”

Kibum stared at them. “He is a literal demon , you fools. One who’s training to be a witch at that, and also, have we forgotten that he is the reason we need a cure in the first place?”

Taemin’s smile faltered a little at that, and Kibum could’ve sworn the demon shot him a quick dirty look, but of course everyone else was too caught up in drooling over his chaste smile to notice.

Wow. Kibum felt wronged somehow, but he had more pressing matters on his mind.

“So, where’s the cure for the hex?” he asked the witch.

“Ah, right.” Taemin pulled out a small jar from his bag, handing it to Kibum, who immediately opened it and stuck his face inside it to see what it contained.

“ What the actual fuck ?!” Kibum almost spat out a large bolus of chewed toast and spittle from his mouth indignantly. “Lee Taemin, if this is some kind of joke, I swear-”

Minho grabbed the jar from Kibum, looking inside it only to immediately pull his head out of the jar. He wafted the smell away from the dining table as Jinki’s nose wrinkled suspiciously.

“Is this shit?!” Kibum demanded, and groaned when Taemin nodded eagerly. “Why the fuck did you just hand me a jar of faeces?”

“Oooh, is this like a Piero Manzoni move?” Jinki asked.

“Who now?”

“No, no, look more carefully. Do you see something inside the poop?” Taemin insisted.

“I’d rather you just tell me, thank you,” Kibum replied politely but firmly.

“It’s seeds!” Taemin said enthusiastically. “Those are tomato seeds in my dog’s poop!”

“Ohhhh.” Realisation seemed to have dawned on Jonghyun. “I think I see where this is going. Are those seeds from the same tomatoes that you used for the hex but your dog ate them once you were done?”

“Yep!” Taemin nodded. “Which means, if we just extract these seeds from the poop, grow them into a new tomato plant, and then use those same tomatoes, I can simulate what happened with the hex the first time! Except this time, I can put a slit in both tomatoes’ heads to represent your state right now and patch up the head slits to fix this whole issue!”

“My God, that’s actually brilliant,” Jonghyun said in astonishment. “It’s so simple but so effective.”

Kibum frowned. “Okay, so that sounds plausible, but how long do tomato plants take to grow?”

“It could take about 50 days to bear fruit,” Taemin said. “So potentially 1.5 to 2 months.”

Minho’s eyebrows flew up at that. “Two whole months? You mean I have to put up with this for another two months?”

“Maybe even longer depending on the species of plant,” Jonghyun chimed in.

“But hey, at least it’s better than before, right?” Jinki added. “Just yesterday, you guys were worried you might never find a cure for this! At least now there’s a definitive solution.”

“How certain are you that it’ll work though?” Kibum asked Taemin.

“Hmmm,” the witch chewed thoughtfully on his toast. “I think I can pretty much guarantee it’ll work.”

Kibum snorted. “Is this like your guarantee of finding a hex that would work?”

“I mean, technically, some sort of hex did work,” Jinki pointed out helpfully, but promptly stopped speaking when Kibum glowered at him.

“No, I think this is a pretty sound idea actually,” Jonghyun said. “I might even be able to help speed up the process of tomato growth using my spring magic, but if not, I can at least make sure the tomato plants will definitely grow and survive, even if the end of May is about a month late to sow tomato seeds.”

Minho seemed to be reassured by this. “In that case, it’s a lot better than it could have been. You did really well, Taemin.”

Taemin grinned, looking proud of himself, and although Kibum was very relieved at the turn of events, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes slightly at the boy’s self-satisfaction.

Kibum took his last sip of coffee. “Well then,” he began, but before he could get any further, he was interrupted by his roommate.

“Now that we’re all here, I think it’s the perfect opportunity to discuss something,” Minho said, and Kibum didn’t need their connection to feel Minho’s excitement. “What’s your opinion of basketball, Taemin?”

Oh my lord . Kibum could not believe Choi Minho’s one-track mind.

Taemin looked up from helping himself to his third slice of toast. “Oh… er, me? I thought it was cool when I was watching Kuroko no Basket.”

Kibum laughed at the way the look on Minho’s face dropped, whilst Jonghyun nodded approvingly.

“Um, do you have any opinions on basketball outside of like… anime?”

Taemin shrugged. “Seems like a fun sport?”

“Well, I’ll take this as my cue to leave then,” Kibum announced, standing up, but Minho firmly pushed his shoulder’s down, forcing him to take a seat again.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Minho declared. “Everyone just wait a minute.”

Minho hurried into their bedroom, re-emerging into their laptop.

“Taemin, have you heard of ISAC?” Minho asked, as he switched his laptop on. “ Sit your ass back down, Kibum, don’t think I won’t notice you trying to escape; I can read your thoughts now,” he added without missing a beat.

Taemin blinked, apparently still processing everything that was going on. “Is this that sports competition that everyone keeps going on about?”

“Yes!” Minho nodded eagerly. “And I think it’d be great if you could participate in it!”

“Me?” Taemin looked confused, and whilst he was still reeling from the surprise, Minho turned to Kibum.

“But first, I have to make sure Kibum doesn’t leave.”

Minho pulled up a PowerPoint presentation on his laptop, and Jinki laughed. “You actually made this?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Minho said darkly, and Kibum vaguely remembered thinking something of that sort right before deciding to hex Minho. That hadn’t gone down well.

“So my first slide is about why Kibum should stay for this,” Minho announced, flicking to the slide on the presentation, obnoxiously titled ‘KIBUM WAIT’.

“I know you’ve been worried recently,” Minho explained. “About your grades, and one of the professors basically told you that you’ll need to participate in an extra credits project to boost your grades for the module.”

Oh no , Kibum thought, worry pooling in his gut. No, surely it can’t be .

“Oh, but it is,” Minho grinned triumphantly. “The list of ‘wider opportunities’ aka extra credits projects was updated on the official university website yesterday. There wasn’t a single project that was suitable for students from the Faculty of Arts to participate in. However, there is one non-selective project in which students from all departments can take part in, and that’ll gain them extra credits in itself.”

Minho flicked to the next slide, showing a screenshot of the projects listed on the university website, with the word ISAC highlighted, the explanation beneath it stating that it was open for all students to enter.

“No way,” Jonghyun whistled. “I guess this means you’ll have to take part after all Kibum.”

“Wait, this has extra credits for just participation?” Taemin piped up.

Minho smiled at the younger boy’s piqued curiosity. “Yes, which means it’ll benefit all of us, even if we are the shittiest basketball players in the entire university as long as we take part.”

Jonghyun frowned. “There must be a catch, surely. There’s no way the university would hand out extra credits that easily.”

“We’re getting to that bit next,” Minho said. “So the main framework of ISAC is simple.”

The next slide on the powerpoint showed a diagram explaining the competition structure. “One team is chosen from each faculty to represent them - for us, that would be the Arts Faculty - and essentially, each team has to play another team from a different department every week. So the competition begins in September, and each week, there will be several rounds of matches played. Lots of matches will be played simultaneously, and the winner stays on to compete against the winners of the other teams. For example, in week 1, there might be several matches going on - maybe one where it’s the Economics department vs the Literature department, whilst the Arts faculty could be going up against the Engineering faculty. The winners of each match would then play each other, like the Economics team vs the Arts team if those were the two teams who win, and the winner determined from that match would then go on to play the other winners. Does that make sense?”

His friends nodded, and Minho took that as a sign to continue. “The entire competition lasts only four weeks as each round has many matches being played simultaneously, which means we’d be done by October. So overall, the timescale of it isn’t too wide either - it isn’t a huge commitment in that sense.”

“What were you saying about the catch with the extra credits?” Jinki asked.

“Well, the only catch is that we have to make it through the preliminary rounds in order to get extra credits. There’ll probably be a few teams who want to sign up to represent the Arts faculty, so those matches would probably be a week or two before the competition starts, depending on the number of teams who want to sign up. In short, we’d only get the extra credits once we’ve been selected as the Arts department team, and the number of credits we get increases the further we make it.”

Oh no. The fact that they would have to be a competent team to some extent in order to be selected as the representatives and earn the extra credits did not sit well with Kibum. However, it wasn’t exactly like he had a choice - the only thing he could do to gain extra credits was this.

Normally, this would be reason enough for Kibum to feel hopeless about entering the competition, but with Minho’s overflowing optimism pushing through their mental link, Kibum felt as though there was still some chance that they could actually do this.

“Um, this is all great and everything,” Taemin said shyly. “But why would you guys want to involve me in this?”

“Ah, well, basketball teams need five members, so we need a fifth person for our team. Moreover, the rules of the competition state that there has to be at least one person from each year of study - Jinki is in his third and final year; Jonghyun, Kibum and I are all in our second year; and you’re in your first year, so it works out perfectly.”

“True,” Taemin acknowledged. “But I don’t consider myself very good at sports. I barely know the rules of basketball.”

Jonghyun chuckled at that. “Hun, do I look like a seasoned basketball player to you?”

Minho grinned. “Don’t worry about that - no one here has much experience with the sport other than me. I’ll be your coach if you decide to go ahead with this, and trust me when I say you’ll all make amazing players.”

Taemin seemed satisfied with this, and Minho added, “Imagine how useful it would be to be able to gain the extra credits. Didn’t one of your professors say you could take on an additional basic witchcraft module alongside your dance course if you prove that you can handle doing multiple projects at the same time?”

Taemin gulped, and Kibum had to admit even he was surprised. “How do you know all this?”

“I have my ways,” Minho replied mysteriously.

“Wow, you’ve really done your research here Ming,” Jonghyun said. “I wouldn’t mind being on the same team as this cutie right here.”

Kibum let out a sound of disgust. Why did everyone want to coddle Taemin so much?

Minho looked at Jinki. “What do you think of the idea?”

Jinki was the one who was most difficult to get a read on in Kibum’s opinion, and he had a feeling that Minho thought the same.

Jinki nodded slowly. “I think… this might just work. I’m happy to be the fifth member if you can’t think of anyone else, but again, I’m not sure how useful I’d actually be in terms of the sport.”

“Leave that to me,” Minho smiled. “I think I may have some ideas of what we can do to help you improve.”

Kibum raised his eyebrows at that suspiciously, but chose not to comment. “Great, now that everything’s all set, I’m just gonna leave-”

“-Not so fast,” Minho quickly interrupted him. “The four of us already know each other, but we still have to formally introduce ourselves to Taemin and -” - He bent over to pull some sheets out of his bag. “We have to sign these forms to show we agree to the Terms and Conditions before we send in our application as a team.”

Taemin smiled again, his cheeks lifting up to make his face look rounder, and Kibum saw Jinki practically melting at the sight from the corner of his eyes. Am I the only one who realises the demon isn’t as innocent as he seems? Kibum thought to himself in disgust.

“I’ll start off then,” Taemin said sweetly. “My name is Lee Taemin and I’m a demon. I’m in my first year of university, and I study dance, although I’m aiming to take on a side module of witchcraft next year to better my trade. My Catholic name is Francesco.”

“Your what now?!” Jonghyun spluttered.

“Catholic name,” Taemin frowned.

“You’re a demon but you’re… Catholic?” Kibum clarified.

Taemin pouted. The kid seemed to do that a lot, Kibum realised. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just, aren’t demons meant to be sinners or something? And also be the opposite of a good Catholic boy in general,” Kibum asked.

“Well I think any species should be free to follow any religion they wish to,” Taemin stated. “It provides me with guidance and teachings on how to live life, and I should feel free to turn to religion if I ever feel the need to.”

“Well said,” Jonghyun replied, glaring at Kibum, and the irony of it wasn’t lost on Kibum as the fairy himself had been spluttering over Taemin’s casual statement just a minute ago. “Ignore the grouchy vampire and his opinions.”

“My name’s Jonghyun by the way,” he said. “I’m a spring fairy, and I’m studying Music and Performing Arts - the same as all four of us, so I’m in the same year group as Kibum and Minho. That’s how I made friends with them actually, because we study the same course. Jinki and I have been friends since childhood, because we pretty much grew up as neighbours, so that’s why we live together right now.” Jonghyun paused to quickly glance at Jinki, then continued with his speech. “I was a mutual friend for both Kibum and Minho in first year, because they didn’t know each other back then, so when I found out that Kibum needed a roommate for second year, I suggested Minho as I knew he was also searching for someone to split living costs with.” He grinned sheepishly. “Didn’t realise it would turn out to be such a terrible match though.”

Jinki took the short pause that followed to introduce himself. “I’m Jinki, a third year student doing the same course. I’m a shapeshifter, but I didn’t get to transform into something cool like the rest of my family - but hey, I have the ability to transform into a rabbit at will,” he shrugged.

“That’s pretty cool,” Taemin’s eyes lit up, and Jinki seemed to appreciate that. “I don’t know anyone else who can do that.”

“Yeah, we call him Onew sometimes because he’s so gentle,” Minho smiled. “Also Ontokki or Dubu heh. Anyway, you already know me and Kibum - I’m a human, and Kibum is a vampire, and we both study the same subject as Jinki and Jjong.”

“Alternatively, these three are known as dumb,” Kibum pointed at Jonghyun. “Dumber-” - he indicated towards Jinki - “- and dumbest,” he finished, gesturing towards Minho.

"Hey, why does he get to be 'dumbest' whilst I'm stuck with plain old 'dumb'?" Jonghyun protested, and Kibum rolled his eyes.

"This is precisely why you should ignore everything they tell you," Kibum advised the young witch.

“Cool,” Taemin beamed. “Nice to meet all of you.”

“In that case, shall we all sign the agreement?” Minho suggested.

“Um, just one thing,” Jinki spoke up. “I was reading the Terms and Conditions listed on this form, but it doesn’t say that magic is forbidden anywhere?”

“Ah, yes,” Minho said, a little hesitantly. “That’s because… er… ISAC isn’t typically a sport where non-humans enter, so we’re probably going to be the only team with the majority of the members being Odd.”

Taemin’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Isn’t that an advantage though? I could-”

“NO!” Kibum interjected immediately. “Just stop that thought right there. I only have one condition before I sign this contract, and that is no magic allowed. Especially nothing involving Lee Taemin.”

“Agreed,” Minho said definitively.

“Fine,” the witch replied sulkily. “Guess we’ll just waste my talents.”

“Perfect,” Jonghyun said brightly. “Looks like we’re all set then, team.”

Kibum had a terrible feeling about this. Then again, what other choice did he have?

***

JUN 03 - 3 days later

Five heads crowded together and stared down at the paper on the table, the words ‘TEAM SHINEE’ printed across the top. A wide array of emotions was visible on their faces – one nervous, another curious, the next mild, the fourth gleeful, and the last downright morose.

“…Remind me why we’re doing this again.” Kibum groaned.

Desperate times, he reminded himself, chanting the phrase in his head like a mantra. Desperate times call for desperate measures.