Work Text:
It’s raining again.
Seonghwa watches it fall through one of the windows of his hut, the rain charmed to veer away from the openings. “It’s strange,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over one of the runestones scattered across his table. “It doesn’t usually rain so much.”
The crow nestled in his bedsheets gives an enquiring caw.
“It wasn’t me,” Seonghwa adds, reaching for a few more runes. “There’s magic in those clouds. It’s disrupting my spells a little.”
A shudder runs through the crow as he stretches out, swiftly morphing into human form. “Maybe someone’s crying,” Hongjoong says, voice gruff with lack of use. “Got their heart broken.”
“So depressing,” Seonghwa sighs, eyes averted from Hongjoong’s shameless nudity. “Maybe I should run a counter-spell.”
“Don’t run yourself dry,” Hongjoong warns, eyeing the healing potion simmering at the end of the table. He winces as he sits up, curse scars pulling at his skin. “I saw your letters; I know you have work coming up.”
“Nosy,” Seonghwa says lightly. He catches Hongjoong’s pained expression and his eyebrows furrow with concern. “Stay in your bird form.” Hongjoong tries to pout at him, but the thick scar splitting his cheek interrupts him. “You’re not healed enough yet.”
“Don’t want you to get lonely,” Hongjoong mutters, rubbing at his bleeding cheek.
Seonghwa softens with a rush of affection. “How could I? You’re here.”
Hongjoong’s eyes are far too knowing, even after he shifts back to bird form.
“For the last time, I am not running a love spell,” Seonghwa says flatly. Hongjoong gives a disapproving caw and settles down for another nap.
The sky is still crying.
Seonghwa casts a waterproofing spell and walks up and down the beach, keeping an eye out for useful ingredients or a being who may need help. The ocean brings a sharp chill with it, wind tugging at his clothes and blowing his hair into his eyes.
A caw sounds above him. Seonghwa looks up, squinting his eyes reflexively even though the rain bends away from him. It’s Hongjoong, flying in slow circles above him. Seonghwa shoots him a disapproving glare.
Something moves. Seonghwa looks just in time to see something duck back into the water. “Hello?” he calls, standing for a few minutes and staring into the seafoam. He hesitates, considers just entering the water himself –
A sharp caw. Seonghwa turns to see a young man standing right behind him and nearly jumps out of his skin. “Fuck,” he rubs at his racing heart, “how did I not notice you?”
The boy shrugs, watching him with wide eyes. Seonghwa’s eyes narrow with suspicion – he looks human, but something feels… off. He’s also soaked to the bone.
“Hey, let’s get you inside,” Seonghwa says gently. The boy blinks slowly, seemingly confused but allows himself to be escorted back to the hut. “I’m Seonghwa, by the way.” The boy swallows and nods, but doesn’t say anything during the walk back. Seonghwa gets the sense he’s being watched but can’t find the culprit.
The boy passes straight through his ward against ill intent, which is reassuring at least. Hongjoong swoops inside as soon as he opens the door to his modest hut.
Seonghwa casts a drying spell and the boy is torn between delight and utter confusion.
“Can you speak?” he asks after peering inside the boy’s mouth for injuries. Finding nothing unusual, he reaches for his more potent set of runestones. Hongjoong gives an experimental shudder and Seonghwa glares at him. “Don’t even think about it.” The boy turns to eye the crow curiously. “That’s Hongjoong, he’s a shifter. He’ll heal better in that form so he should stay in it.”
Hongjoong tilts his head to give a one-eyed haughty glare. The boy huffs a quiet laugh.
“Okay, I’m going to ask you some questions. Hold your hands out, like this,” he guides the boy’s hands into an open cup and pours the runestone set into his palms. “Okay. Throw them when I ask a question.” The boy nods, mouth twisted into a serious line. “Can you speak?” He gives the runestones a light toss and they fall as Seonghwa had expected – a clear no. “Okay. Are you cursed?” A yes this time. The boy doesn’t look surprised. “Are you cursed to silence?” The boy nods as the runestones fall into a yes.
Seonghwa hums, possible culprits running through his mind. “This is a question I’d ask anyone, but I have to be sure. Are you here to harm myself or my friend in any way?”
The boy shakes his head vigorously as the runes fall into a no.
“I’ll see if I can break the curse,” Seonghwa says as he takes the runes back. “Can you write?” At the boy’s nod he reaches for a quill and paper, pushing it to the end of his desk. He runs his hands through a few rune tracings and the paper gives a sharp glow. “Okay, if you want to remove something you’ve written, just strike a line through it and it’ll disappear.”
The boy brightens and begins writing immediately. Seonghwa checks on the healing potion and adjusts the heat from a simmer to a boil, sprinkling a few herbs into the bubbling solution. By the time the potion is finished and taken off the heat, the boy is shyly passing him a note.
Hyung, thank you for your kindness. You should consider giving an alias to strangers, lest you forfeit your soul. You have done me a favour, and so I shall give you my name: Jongho. If you can undo the curse then I will owe you two favours. Choose them wisely.
Seonghwa’s lips twitch with amusement. “Nice to meet you, Jongho. You’re fae?”
Jongho nods. He takes the paper back.
Call me Apple. Do you have an alias?
“I do, but you won’t like it,” Seonghwa grins. He waits for Jongho’s inquisitive head tilt. “Hwaseong.” Jongho immediately scowls. “I know, not very strong. Hongjoong tells me not to tempt fate.” The crow caws in agreement, looking just as affronted. “Okay fine, Mars is also okay to use. For when you get your voice back.”
He heads for one of the cupboards and rifles through the ancient instruments.
“Now, let’s find out if it was stolen or sealed.”
Jongho’s voice is sealed, and the curse work is more complicated than Seonghwa has encountered in a long while.
Yeosang is exceedingly pleased to have been summoned. “It’s so nice to get good, honest work once in a while,” he says, his leopard tail swaying with interest as he examines Jongho’s throat. “Nowadays people only call upon me when they want someone dead or cursed. Does nobody remember I can reverse those too?”
“No necromancy,” Seonghwa says lightly, unbothered that Yeosang had spent exactly five minutes on his notes before abandoning them to perform his own examination.
“What’ll you do, tie me up?” Yeosang bats his eyelashes innocently. Seonghwa rolls his eyes and ignores him. “When’s the last time you were in the water? Your aura’s too… dry?”
“It has been a while,” Seonghwa admits, gaze straying to the turbulent waters outside. “Not like we haven’t had enough water on land.”
“How long has it been raining?” Yeosang runs through a few spells of his own. Jongho sits patiently.
Seonghwa taps a finger on the table and consults his planner. “A month.”
Yeosang makes a noise like a wet cat. “Fucking hell. That’s not normal. Figured it out yet?”
“There’s someone who’s been lingering nearby. I’ve been giving them time to approach, if they want to.” Seonghwa tries to spot the elusive guest half-heartedly.
Jongho’s throat gives an alarmingly black glow. Seonghwa joins them to bracket his hands outside of Yeosang’s magic, bracing him and forming a protective barrier between them and the cabin.
“Land-nearby or ocean-nearby?” Yeosang’s eyes lose their glamour and shift into slitted cat-eyes as he focuses on unravelling the curse network.
“Ocean,” Seonghwa says with certainty. “They haven’t left it.”
“Maybe it’s time to stretch your tentacles,” Yeosang says. His eyes narrow with frustration at the curse resisting him; Seonghwa places his palms along the back of Yeosang’s hands and feeds him some magic. It takes a little at first, but then steadily more and more as the curse grows vicious in its offense. Seonghwa begins a low chant, encouraging stability of their temporary magical link. Jongho’s face contorts with pain but he withstands it, still sitting still.
Seonghwa’s back is damp with sweat by the time the curse finally snaps into nothing. Yeosang flops onto the floor and promptly shifts into leopard form for a nap.
Seonghwa could use one himself. Instead, he fetches water and hands a glass to a pale Jongho.
“My thanks,” he rasps, downing the water so fast Seonghwa genuinely wonders if he’ll need to treat him for drowning.
“That was a hell of a curse,” Seonghwa says, passing Jongho the jug of water. “Who got you?”
Jongho’s mouth twists with displeasure. “I tricked one of the human kings and he didn’t like it. Got his team of sorceresses to seal my voice so I couldn’t demand payment.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “How long ago was that?”
Jongho’s eyes flutter drowsily. “A year ago. Been looking for someone to help. Heard you’re good with light magic. Turns out it needed dark too. Glad you knew someone who isn’t a total dick.”
Lips twitching with amusement, Seonghwa forces himself to stand and activate the expansion wards. “Come on, pick a bed. We could all use a rest.” Yeosang doesn’t even stir when he picks him up and carries him to a bed. “Keep an eye out for us, Hongjoong?”
The crow abandons his nest and flutters down to the desk, fixing a sharp eye on the window.
Seonghwa drops into his bed and pulls a blanket over himself, sparing enough magic for a cleansing spell before sinking into unconsciousness.
He sleeps for two days. When he wakes, Jongho and Yeosang are still asleep, so he doesn’t feel too guilty.
“Go for a swim,” Hongjoong says. He’s sitting by one of the cauldrons kept for cooking, tending to something that makes Seonghwa’s mouth water. “Our friend is here, I caught them a little while ago.”
Seonghwa pushes himself up and feels muscles he forgot he had protest. “I’ll see if I can find them.”
He considers using the front door, then dismisses the idea and takes the trapdoor. The barriers holding the underwater passage are still intact, and Seonghwa peers through the one-way windows. The waters are thick with sand, the currents still active with the storm.
“Someone really isn’t happy,” he mutters. He reaches the end and removes his clothes, hanging them over a chair he’d left for that purpose. He shifts as he steps through the portal to the ocean, legs splitting into thick black tentacles. His nails sharpen into claws, gills opening along his neck and chest. When he opens his eyes the sand is less of an obstruction. He lingers there for a long while, becoming attuned once again to the ocean and welcoming his second form.
Someone is watching him.
Seonghwa’s eyes snap open and catch a young man staring at him curiously. The selkie startles and starts to dash away.
He considers giving chase, a predator’s instinct urging him to race and capture, devour.
Seonghwa shakes his head. He swims in the opposite direction instead, pace languid and expression mild. It has been a long time, and the joy of swimming never quite left him.
After a while his magic starts to seep out into the water, merging with the bottomless pit of natural energy and absorbing some of it. By the time he circles back home, his stores are more or less replenished. He catches a couple of the larger fish and drags them back with his tentacles. He lingers by the portal, eyes searching the shallows.
The selkie is back, half-hiding behind a rock. “My name is Seonghwa,” he says, part of him amused that Jongho would definitely have something to say about that. At least now he can say it. “We’re going to eat shortly. You’re welcome to join us.” He nods at the portal. “You’ll have to use the front door though.”
The selkie blinks slowly at him, eyes dark and beautiful. He nods once.
Seonghwa passes through the portal, dries and dresses and then takes his bounty back into the cabin.
Hongjoong is delighted. “Meat!” he cries, grabbing a fish and immediately getting to work descaling it. Seonghwa thinks of the selkie, the loneliness in his face. “Did you see our friend?” Hongjoong asks, eyes knowing.
“He’s a selkie,” Seonghwa says. He makes short work of the scales. He’s quick to gut the fish, setting aside the organs to eat later. While he’s more than happy to eat it, he knows Yeosang will turn his nose up at it. Who knows what Jongho’s been eating. “I invited him to eat with us.”
“By the front door?” Hongjoong waggles his eyebrows. “You don’t like anyone in your back passage?”
Seonghwa is sorely tempted to smack him with the fish.
They make short work of picking the bones and chopping the meat, then add it to the vegetable stew. Hongjoong looks so excited for decent food that Seonghwa doesn’t have the heart to nag him back into crow form. Yet.
And if he adjusts the window to allow the spicy scent of cooking fish to waft outside, neither of them say anything.
He shoves a bowl under Yeosang’s nose. He stirs just enough to devour the bowl without even bothering to shift forms, then curls up for another sleep.
Jongho accepts the bowl with a quiet thanks and spoons it slowly.
He’s given up on receiving another guest when there’s a shy knock at the door. Hongjoong beats him to it, practically ripping the door open. “Mysterious stranger!” he cries, grabbing the stunned selkie by the arm and dragging him inside. “Help yourself, help yourself, don’t worry about politeness.”
Seonghwa feels an odd mix of pity and affection for the fear in the selkie’s eyes. “Let him breathe, Hongjoong. You’ll scare him away.”
“I’m not scary,” Hongjoong scoffs, but doesn’t miss the way the selkie is eyeing the large scar across his face. “Cool, right?” he grins. Seonghwa ladles some stew into another bowl. “I got it in a fight. Practically a battle! But the guy paying me died so I escaped.”
“He’s harmless,” Seonghwa says with a gentle smile, placing the bowl in front of the selkie. He notices the death-grip he has on his skin. “Nobody will harm you here,” he promises, adding a spoon to his bowl.
Ideally they’d settle into a comfortable silence so the selkie can feel more at ease. But as Seonghwa finishes his stew, Hongjoong is still nattering on like he hasn’t spoken in days – which, to be fair, he probably hasn’t, between being in crow form and his housemates being collectively unconscious.
When he looks up, the selkie is eyeing him curiously. Seonghwa smiles encouragingly. The selkie visibly steels himself. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding on your waters.”
Hongjoong likes five seconds away from bursting into laughter so Seonghwa fixes him with a pre-emptive glare. “If you don’t mean harm then it’s no intrusion. I don’t get many guests.”
The selkie looks pointedly at his three guests. Seonghwa laughs under his breath. “This is a unique circumstance. I’m also not complaining.”
“Just watch,” Hongjoong grins, helping himself to another bowl. “You’re gonna end up with even more of us, you recluse.”
Seonghwa makes an offended noise. “I’m hardly a recluse! I’m just not sought-after company.”
Jongho gives a quiet hum from his bed. “None of us are, I suppose.” His gaze lands upon the selkie. “No offense.”
The selkie gives a self-deprecating smile. Seonghwa doesn’t like it. “You’re not wrong.”
Hongjoong opens his mouth and Seonghwa just knows he isn’t going to like that either. “You’re welcome here.”
Hongjoong eyes him, then the selkie, then Seonghwa again. He turns to Jongho. “I’d bet money he’s already given him his true name.”
Seonghwa doesn’t deny it, and Jongho glares at him. “Foolish of you.”
“There aren’t water fae here! The waters are too cold,” Seonghwa protests, but he knows it’s only an excuse. He’d taken one look at those sad eyes and couldn’t bring himself to lie.
By the look in Jongho’s eyes, he knows it too. “I owe him two favours,” he says to the selkie. “So you’re safe here. Feel free to introduce yourself, or use an alias like some people should be doing.”
Seonghwa pretends not to hear him.
The selkie stays until the others have been lulled to sleep by their full bellies. He grips his skin to his chest as he lingers by the door. “My name is San,” he says quickly. “Thank you.”
“Any time,” Seonghwa says, smiling gently. “You’re welcome to stay, or come for food.”
San nods and practically flees to the ocean. Seonghwa watches through the window as he vanishes into the waves.
The rain is lighter now, but still apparently enough of a bother that his guests refuse to leave.
“I’m not stepping out in that,” Yeosang had said, eyeing the rain with displeasure. “I’ll accept lodging as partial payment.”
If his intentions are also to peruse Seonghwa’s extensive library, he’s not going to stop him. He also suspects Yeosang enjoys the company of those who don’t write him off as an evil dark witch. He does them both the favour and doesn’t mention it.
Jongho also announces his intention to stay. “I will stay until you’ve at least considered the favours,” he’d said with serious eyes. “There is also nowhere worth travelling to as yet.”
Needless to say, Hongjoong is thrilled to have guests who won’t nag him out of human form after ten minutes.
San comes for a few more meals, and though he stays a little longer each time, he still keeps his skin firmly on his lap and stares at Seonghwa.
He doesn’t know what this means. He’d also choke on his runestones before he’d ask Hongjoong. Yeosang keeps giving him knowing looks, but the last time Seonghwa had enquired after those he’d ended up thoroughly embarrassed so that’s a no go.
He could get used to it, having people he cares about around him so much. It’s almost like a family.
If that was something he was allowed to have.
San doesn’t speak much, so Seonghwa is surprised to hear his voice as he frowns at his mail. “What’s wrong?” His voice is soft, now even more of a hush to prevent the others from waking. He’d somehow brought them a yellow fin tuna, and everyone had promptly gorged themselves into a food coma.
“Some people were supposed to be here by now,” Seonghwa murmurs, passing San the letter. “They come every now and then for scrolls, textbooks, talismans.”
“They’re… a week late?” San’s concern is touching and Seonghwa has to squash the urge to ruffle his hair. Or do something even more stupid, like rub the frown off his face.
Seonghwa nods and starts to put his shoes on. “I haven’t felt a disturbance in the wards, but they might be further out. Maybe the rain stopped them? I better check, just in case.”
San looks oddly guilty at this. Seonghwa glances out the window and, now that he’s looking for it, sees the clouds darken in line with San’s mood.
He doesn’t mention it. “I’ll be gone for a bit. You’re welcome to come, if you want.” It’s part formality, part joke, part honest invitation; San rarely goes far from the ocean and is only now relaxing in their company.
So he’s surprised when San thinks this over for a moment before nodding. “I’ll come.”
He writes a quick note just in case someone wakes up, then leads them out the door. He casts a water-repelling charm over himself, then looks at San, bundled up in his skin. Its short fur ruffles in the ocean breeze and the weight of it looks heavy. The words are out of his mouth before he can think, “You’re so cute.”
San’s eyes widen comically and Seonghwa would be amused if he wasn’t flushing. “I… thank you?”
Seonghwa awkwardly clears his throat and spins to take long strides inland, San’s quick footsteps following.
Silence stretches between them, but as the embarrassment fades it becomes more comfortable. San clearly hasn’t been inland before because he keeps stopping to admire the trees, moss, insects and birds.
He inspects a spider with a critical eye, then glares at it. “What a waste. This crab has no meat.”
“It’s a spider,” Seonghwa says, swiftly sliding from calm to panic when San goes to touch it. “No!” He grabs his hand and gently guides it away, “those are venomous. You really don’t want to get bitten by it.”
“Oh,” San says softly, his gaze on their joined hands. “Land is also dangerous.”
Seonghwa hums in agreement, letting go when San tugs his hand away. “It can be. Don’t touch anything that moves and you should be okay.”
San’s wonder becomes shrouded with suspicion and he stays close by Seonghwa’s side, brushing against him whenever the leaves rustle unexpectedly. The further out they go, the less soaked the soil is; however the rain is persistent, as if it follows them.
Seonghwa suspects it is. “Is the rain linked to you?”
San flinches, half-hiding himself inside his skin. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Seonghwa says, instinctively reaching out. He hesitates, aware of San’s protectiveness over his skin, but something tells him if he doesn’t settle this, he may never see him again. “It’s okay,” he says again, running a hand through San’s soft hair. “It’s just water. I’d rather have you here than clear skies.”
San’s eyes are wide. Seonghwa wants to slap himself for sounding so sappy.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but… it doesn’t seem like you’re doing it on purpose. And as far as I’m aware, it’s not a selkie thing,” he says.
San’s eyes lower, but he doesn’t move away. “It’s a curse,” he says, voice hoarse like he has to force the words. “My herd was attacked. I couldn’t find anyone, and then the storms bothered other herds so I had to keep moving.”
He looks so fragile that Seonghwa can’t help but pull him into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he says.
They stay there until the soil is oversaturated with water, San’s face pressed into Seonghwa’s chest.
“Do you think it’s something we could break?” Seonghwa asks eventually, mind reviewing weather curses.
San laughs, the sound hollow and dark. “With my luck, it’d be by something unattainable.”
Seonghwa hums and gives him a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “If you’d allow me, I’d like to look into it.”
San sways slightly, then corrects himself. “You’d – do that?” He shakes his head and starts walking. “For the study of magic?”
“For you.” Seonghwa reaches for the ward lines he’d cast long ago and redirects them. “If it’s something I can help you with, I’d like to.”
San is silent for a long moment. “Yes, please,” he finally says, whisper-quiet.
The linchpin for his wards is still intact, and when he places his hands upon the tree stump he reaches out to the furthest ward branches. San can see them once they’re activated, glowing orange lines arching out in a spiderweb.
“How far do these go?” he asks, dark eyes lit orange with the wards.
“As far as the nearest village, which is still pretty far. It’d cover about… three day’s walk? Enough not to get any surprises.” Twin pulses of energy catch in the web and he’s found them. A beacon-bright pulse is with them. “Ah… I know where they are.”
He meets San’s concerned gaze.
“You don’t have a problem with dragons, do you?”
Seonghwa may not have many he’d call close friends, but he has countless acquaintances and clients. Several of them do not tend to get along.
He spots Mingi first, in full dragon form. His red body is impossible to miss, though it takes Seonghwa a moment to realise it’s streaked with blood and cuts. The air whirs around him, a shapeless figure that must be Yunho. The vampire is quick, but his claws and fangs meet their match with Mingi’s armour of scales.
He spends a full minute concerned and considering stepping in, but then he sees Wooyoung sprawled against the rocks a distance away, looking completely and utterly bored.
“I’m going to check in with the human,” he tells San, who’s watching the fight with a mixture of awe and horror. “You can stay here if you like.”
San shakes his head and follows him.
Wooyoung brightens when he spots them. “Oh thank the gods. I don’t know when they’re going to end.”
Seonghwa eyes the fight with a frown. “Are they… sparring? They’re drawing blood.”
“We ran into each other a few days ago and they both immediately wanted to fight. It stopped being fighting and became sparring a few hours after that, but they haven’t stopped. I just know he’s gonna drain me after this,” Wooyoung groans. “I don’t mind but what a waste.”
“I think they’d disagree on that,” Seonghwa sighs. “They’re gonna need days to heal after this. They couldn’t wait?”
“Apparently not,” Wooyoung shrugs. His eyes land upon San and glimmer with mischief. Seonghwa moves to hide him instinctively. “And who’s this cutie?”
Seonghwa shouldn’t be bristling at his friend but… something about this gets on his nerves. “This is San.”
“Nice to meet you!” Wooyoung says with a cheerful grin, eyes still devious. “Can’t believe you haven’t taken his skin yet, Seonghwa.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Seonghwa snaps, some of the protective runes on his clothes and jewellery beginning to hum. He takes a breath to clear it. “Don’t joke. It’s not funny.”
Wooyoung holds up his hands, innocent expression plastered over his face. “Okay, noted.” He gives San a more genuine smile. “I’m harmless, I swear.”
“Harmless like a piranha,” Seonghwa mutters. “Come on, let’s get going.”
“I would say I’m surprised the rain hasn’t stopped them, but like I said, days.” Wooyoung scowls at the two of them.
Seonghwa casts his magic to take control of the rain and pelt Mingi and Yunho with ice shards. “That’s enough. It’s a draw. Now hurry up and let’s go home.”
Yunho finally comes into sight, bruised and bloody with a shit-eating grin. “I was totally going to win.”
Mingi’s form ripples as he shifts into human form, looming over Yunho with a glare. “I’ll eat you.”
Wooyoung goes over to tease them and Seonghwa sighs, suddenly very tired at the prospect of adding these three to his house.
San leans into him. “They’re very loud.”
“Too loud,” Seonghwa gripes. He drapes an arm over San’s shoulders. “Don’t take what he said seriously. He won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t let him.”
San’s eyes are unreadable, but his lips curve into a small smile. “I know.”
Having the house so full is utter chaos.
Seonghwa’s only moments of peace are when the others have post-meal naps, and when he goes for a swim. San joins him more often than not, sometimes following him through the tunnel and sometimes meeting him in the ocean.
The rain gets softer every day, though even with a house full of experts on various kinds of magic, they can’t find a solution. Even Jongho had sighed and suggested true love’s kiss, which is a myth at worst and a desperate fix at best.
Seonghwa doesn’t mind it as much anymore. He’s been casting spells to assist with drainage and San swims far enough that the plants get some breaks of sunlight.
San has also been leaving his skin behind to go on walks. It’s alarming, but only Seonghwa seems to be unsettled by this. The others just give him knowing smirks and ignore him.
Seonghwa comes back from a swim to see the skin draped over a chair. He can feel San’s energy nearby, so he picks up the skin and heads into the woods.
He finds San sitting in one of the purity circles Yeosang had made. They made no impact on the curse, but San says he likes the aura of them.
“San,” he says. San spots him, then brightens as he sees the skin in his hands. “You shouldn’t leave this behind. It’s dangerous.”
“Oh,” he murmurs, blinking as Seonghwa folds the skin and places it delicately in San’s lap. “Thank you.”
Seonghwa joins him in the circle, sighing as his magic calms. “You were so careful with it before. Why leave it behind? If someone took it…”
San’s smile is difficult to interpret. “I’d be stuck on land.” He looks down at his skin and digs his fingers into it. “It’s a tale we’re all told. Of selkies who have their skins stolen and are forced into marriage.”
Seonghwa scowls at the thought. “Cruel. I appreciate you trust us enough to leave it, but what if we’re attacked? Someone could take it.”
San actually laughs at that. Seonghwa warms at the sound. “If someone attacks you all then I feel sorry for them. There’d be nothing of them left.”
“…True,” he admits, leaning back onto his hands and closing his eyes to bask in the pure resonance of the circle.
“…If I,” San starts, cuts himself off. Seonghwa waits for him to continue. “If I wanted to get married to a non-selkie, then my skin needs to be stolen.”
Seonghwa’s eyes snap open. “That’s awful.” San’s face shutters and he adds, “not wanting to get married, I mean having to have it stolen. If someone has to do that then they don’t deserve you. Nobody should rob you of the sea.”
San eyes him carefully. “What would the alternative be?”
Seonghwa blinks. “Um? You can just get married and keep your skin. You shouldn’t have to be trapped. You’ve been visiting us, right? Just like that. But romantic.”
San hums as he considers this, fingers stroking the short fur. He glances up through his lashes and takes one of Seonghwa’s hands. He lets him, perplexed as San places his hand on the pelt. It’s a lot softer than he’d expected, now that he’s able to focus on it and not storming out in a wild panic. “I’ve been leaving it for you,” San says softly.
Oh. Oh.
Seonghwa… had not been expecting that. “Me?”
San nods, one of his hands curling over Seonghwa’s. “If you’d like me to leave, I will. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Seonghwa has the sense he needs a week to think this over but only has minutes to respond. “I want you to stay,” he says. Swallows. “I really want you to stay.” San opens his mouth and Seonghwa just knows what he’s going to say. “But I won’t take your skin. It’s yours. You don’t have to give it up to stay.”
San’s eyes are so close he can see flecks of gold, count the specks of sea salt on his skin. “We can share it, if you like,” he says, a hint of steel beneath his words.
He won’t let this go, Seonghwa realises. It must have more significance than he can understand. But if this is the compromise between their values, then –
“We’ll share,” Seonghwa says, and just like that San’s entire being radiates happiness. There’s nothing Seonghwa can do in the face of that glow but lean in and gently press his lips against San’s smile.
San leans into him, squeezing his hand over his fur. He’s still glowing when they part, his eyes dancing with joy. The sunlight makes the salt sparkle in his hair, makes his eyes shine gold, makes his skin warm –
Sunlight.
They realise it at the same time. They look up to see the omnipresent clouds dissipate slowly, the rain faltering until it stops.
Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say.
San’s lips are quirked into a mischievous smile he’s never seen. “I better be your favourite client.”
With a snort, Seonghwa leans in for another kiss.