Archive of Our Own ^beta

The house aches.

It’s something that Donghun is aware of in every creak of the floorboards and every stuck window. It echoes in his own bones, in the way his hands hurt in the morning and his knees struggle to push him up from the garden beds when he’s finished tending to the herbs.

A mirror of himself made of wood, plaster and nails.

“You can’t just fix it.”

Donghun grunts into the phone, not dignifying Seoham with a proper response. He knows that the house is not something he can just fix, that he can’t pick up the phone and call in contractors to check the foundation. It’s nothing anyone else can fix. It’s something completely in Donghun’s hands.

“Don’t grunt at me, you know I’m right. Don’t make me take the day off work to come deal with you,” Seoham snorts over the phone and it’s enough to bring a smile to Donghun’s face. He knows that it’s not an empty threat, and has often had to dust off his hands to answer the door, only to find Seoham there with one of his four boys in tow.

They always fill the house with life, their joy bleeding through to Donghun and making him forget about the aches for a time. They always leave though and Donghun’s gotten too used to the way the silence settles back into the rooms. It’s nice, but it makes the days following feel heavier.

Donghun shakes his head and pulls his phone away to switch it to his other ear as he reaches for a ladle with his free hand. He sets it into the pot simmering on the stove, giving it four stirs clock wise. “It’s okay, you don’t have to. I know I can’t just fix it, it’s just difficult waiting.”

“You put too much stock in your coven showing up and it fixing everything too. It’s okay to ask for help.”

Donghun stirs two more times, before setting the ladle off to the side with a sigh. “I know, I know.”

The words are soft, but Seoham seems to accept them.

The call goes quiet and Donghun watches the pot for a moment, listening to the clink of wood on metal from Seoham standing at his own stove. They may not be fully in each other's company, but Donghun won't turn away the power of working together, even if from a distance.

"How are the kids?"

Across the line, Seoham's laughter is bright and Donghun can't help but smile in response. "Jihun's spent the last month working through his stash of dried ingredients to make new tea blends. He has three here you might like. Inseong's good, his readings have been going well, but his guide is mad at him about something so he's been trying to sort that out. Dongwon and Heejun are terrors, but there's nothing new in that. You'd think winter would have them mellowing for a few months, but no, they're as loud as ever."

"You should expect them your way soon. Heejun's been struggling with pulling apart an old recipe and you've always been better at solving what the missing ingredient might be."

Donghun chuckles and shifts his phone to the other ear as he finally steps away from the stove. "That's fine, you know your coven is always welcome. Any idea on what kind of recipe it is?"

"None," Seoham sighs. "If I knew, I could be more of a help, but there's no clue to what it could be. If it wasn't a mystery recipe, you know Heejun wouldn't care about figuring it out."

"Alright, send him over when you need a break. I'll keep the two of them over for dinner," Donghun wanders over to his shelf and drags out one of the worn leather bound books. He sets it out on the table, a reminder of Heejun's future visit for when he gets stuck in his own head standing at the stove.

"Thanks. I'll send them over with the tea and a few other things for you."

Across the line, Donghun hears the murmur of voices in the background and knows he's running thin on time.

"Sorry, Dongwon's gotten stuck, I'm going to have to go. I'll send them over your way some time this week?" There's laughter in Seoham's voice and Donghun's chest goes tight with the unfortunate sting of jealousy he never can quite shake.

"Yeah, anytime is fine. Go save your boy."

"I will, I will. Talk to you later."

The line cuts out and Donghun stills for a moment, listening to nothing but dead air.

His hands ache as he puts the phone down off to the side, the house around him colder than he expects to find it. With a sigh, he steps back in front of the stove, picking up the ladle to dip back into the pot.

One. Two. Three. Four.

He stirs the mixture carefully, counting before letting himself exhale messily. Release.

The house aches, but he knows better than anyone that it's because of him.

Thunder cracks loudly and despite how Donghun usually uses the foul weather as an excuse to stay curled up in his chair with a book, something about today feels different. He knows better than to ignore the way he can feel how he should be laying out his cards on the windowsill and setting his teapot out to collect rainwater.

"I know," he murmurs as he spreads his tarot deck out along his windowsill, fingers tracing over the faces of the cards. There's a sense of anger, but it's simmering, rather than something volatile. It's tinged with sadness and he knows that despite how he hasn't talked with his deck in a while, it understands.

Most days all he can stand to do is make a pot of tea and settle into familiar, well worn, routines.

There’s a promise there that he could make, to be better and try harder, but Donghun’s never been one to make promises he’s unsure if he can keep.

Leaving them to settle along the windowsill, Donghun wanders out to the kitchen. His hands are on the teapot when he spots the book he’d left on the table two days ago and he wonders if maybe the day’s energy is from Heejun and Dongwon’s impending arrival.

Except even that doesn’t ring true.

Despite Donghun’s fondness for Seoham’s coven and how much he does enjoy their visits, there’s never been a tangible feeling that they were coming.

He shakes off the thought and starts towards the door out to the backyard, teapot held carefully in his hand. He taps his fingers against it, nails clinging against the copper surface as he toes on his shoes. He doesn’t bother grabbing his jacket, despite the way he can hear how hard the rain is falling on the roof.

He opens the door and steps out into the storm.

The wind is vicious as it tears at his clothes, but not enough that he would fear leaving his kettle on the table in the yard. It’s heavy enough he doesn’t worry and it’s not like another dent or scratch is going to change how the water boils. He sets it down, plucking the lid off and turning around to run back inside.

Thunder cracks in the distance and Donghun meets the gaze of the large hound sitting on his porch.

The rain makes his hair cling to his forehead, dripping down his face as his feet sink into the mud. He can’t bring himself to move, can’t bring himself to flee back into the warmth and safety of his house, not when the hound in front of him doesn’t move a muscle as Donghun faces it. It remains so still and Donghun feels a shiver of fear run up his spine, his muscles going tense in the expectation of running, of fighting, of doing something.

If Donghun moves quickly, maybe he can reach the hoe in the garden before it makes it to him, if the fates are on his side. He digs the toe of his boot into the mud, preparing to lurch to the side and into the garden as soon as the hound moves.

The moment breaks as the hound pushes itself up to its feet, showing Donghun just how large it is.

It gives one low huff that has Donghun flinching, before it turns on it’s paws and pads right in through the open back door.

“Fuck,” Donghun curses, but the fear disappates as soon as he catches the way the lights in the house glow brighter. It’s hard to miss with his eyes locked on the doorway in expectation of the hound coming back outside, but it doesn’t and Donghun can practically feel the way his fear melts away.

His shoulders sag and he stands there for far longer than he’d like to admit, until his shirt is sticking heavy to his skin and his jeans pull uncomfortably.

Tentatively he walks back up to the porch and under the overhang, looking at the doorway with trepidation as he stands there dripping. He takes another step and the boards are silent underneath his feet as he slowly makes his way to the door.

From inside, he can hear the radio he hadn’t turned on playing a song and see the hound sitting in the middle of his kitchen, watching him with its head cocked and ears perked up. It’s tail thumps once against the floor and Donghun shakes his head at the way he can feel the warmth from inside seeping out.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, kicking off his boots and leaving them beside the door.

“How long are you staying?” Donghun asks as he finally steps inside, his fear a near distant thought as he stands dripping on the carpet, hands on his hips as he looks at the large hound. Far bigger than any dog, more in line with a wolf than anything. Unmistakably a predator and yet, it only thumps its tail against the floor in response to Donghun’s question.

“Right, okay. Let me get a towel for you then,” he sets the lid for the tea kettle onto the counter. Quickly, he reaches behind himself, twisting his hand into the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He steps out of his jeans and socks next, leaving the pile of wet clothes at the door, before padding off into the house.

The hound's head tilts as it watches him wander off, but it remains seated in the one spot, water pooling beneath it.

The radio continues to play softly from the living room, the fire crackling and quickly ushering away the chill from the rain. Despite the initial terror of it all, Donghun doesn’t rush to change into dry clothes or towel off his hair. He takes his time pulling out his softest sweater and a pair of sweats, comfort over anything else. He grabs his glasses from the bathroom counter, slides them onto his nose before grabbing a dry towel and wandering back to the kitchen.

The hound’s only reaction to Donghun getting closer, to Donghun crouching in front of it, is to thump it’s tail one last time, kicking up water, before it falls still. It makes a soft sound as Donghun drops the towel over it’s head and starts to smooth it over it’s fur, picking up as much water as he can.

It remains docile as Donghun dries it, only getting back up onto it’s paws to let Donghun get the puddle of water below it. It’s eyes remain rapt on Donghun’s face, far too knowing for comfort, but nothing has told Donghun that he needs to be worried. His house let the hound in and that was enough for him to trust it.

Finishing, he throws the towel off into the pile with his clothes to be picked up and moved off to the laundry. He hums as he reaches out, hands working around the hounds neck, not having missed the sound of it’s collar when he had been roughing the towel through it’s fur.

His fingers find the tag and he flips it over, reading over the name and the number scrawled under it.

“Alright, Sehyoon, let’s see where you came from.”

“I think I found my familiar.”

On the other end of the phone, Donghun hears Seoham’s sharp intake of breath, before he’s telling Heejun to quiet down. “Go get Dongwon.”

There’s a shuffle and then Seoham is clear on the other end of the line. “You think you found your familiar?”

“Mmm,” Donghun makes a noise of affirmation, tapping his fingers against the kitchen table and glances to where Sehyoon is sprawled out in front of the fire in the living room. He’s a mass of dark fur, his tail flicking as he lifts his head up to stare back at Donghun. “He was sitting on the back porch when I went out and walked right inside.”

“And your house let him?”

Donghun breaks Sehyoon’s gaze, looking off to where the radio is still playing and feeling how it’s the first time in months that he’s felt warm. “Welcomed him right in.”

“Donghun,” Seoham sounds exhausted on the other end, but Donghun ignores his tone as he pushes himself up from the table. He wanders off to the living room, lowering himself down to the floor beside Sehyoon and sinking one of his hands into his fur. His tail gives a sharp wag, before he huffs and flops his head down to the floor. Gently he nudges his head back against Donghun’s hand, a quiet demand for more.

“I know, I know,” he sighs as he scratches his fingers behind Sehyoon’s ears.

“I can tell the boys not to take the trip over tomorrow, unless you want Dongwon to come help?”

Donghun considers it for a moment, how having another familiar might be useful to ask questions of, but already Donghun knows that they are starkly different. It’s instinct to know that Dongwon’s own experience won’t help him find answers, that he’s meant to go through this with Sehyoon. “No, I think you’ll have to send them over another time.”

“Yeah, of course,” Seoham goes quiet on the other end for a moment and Donghun braces himself. “You’ll phone me if you need anything this time, won’t you?”

He hesitates for a moment, swallowing around the way he wants to tell Seoham he’ll be fine. “If I need anything, I promise I’ll phone.”

The promise sits thick on his tongue, but a promise spoken is one he’ll keep and it’s something Seoham knows.

“Okay,” Seoham sighs and Donghun can hear the hiss of his kettle in the distance. “I’ll let you go then.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when it’s okay for you to send the kids over. I’m sure I’ll have questions for Dongwon later.”

“Just take it easy, okay?”

“I will, I will. Give everyone my love.” Donghun ends the call and sighs as he sets the phone off to the side. Sehyoon tilts his head back, resting his head across Donghun’s thigh and gives a snuffle of noise. “You’ll meet them later.”

Sehyoon’s tail thumps against the floor and Donghun scratches underneath his chin.

He has no idea what the two of them are getting into, despite how he’s been mentally preparing himself to start meeting his coven. Seoham’s words ring in his head from the phone call days before, about how he was putting too much stock in his coven coming in and fixing everything.

Calling the number on Sehyoon’s tags had made that abundantly clear.

The soft “she passed away last month” Donghun had received after calling the number had been enough, Sehyoon had looked at him as he hung up the phone and Donghun had carefully lowered himself to the floor beside him. He’d sunk his hand into Sehyoon’s fur and they hadn’t moved since.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Donghun murmurs and Sehyoon’s ears flick in a clear sign that he’s heard him. Another thump of his tail against the floor and Donghun can’t help but laugh at how reassuring it is.

He doesn’t need Sehyoon to speak to hear the agreement loud and clear.

“He’s sad.”

Donghun looks over to where Seoham has his eyes on Sehyoon, watching the hound playfully jump at Dongwon. The other coven’s familiar skitters away, slipping past Sehyoon on nimble paws and launching himself up into Heejun’s arms. With Dongwon out of reach, Sehyoon drops down to his belly, his head falling onto his paws. He gives a soft woof, one that Donghun can’t help but smile at and Heejun sits down on the floor with him.

Sehyoon rolls over onto his side as soon as Dongwon jumps back out of Heejun’s arms, the cat immediately stepping onto Sehyoon and curling up on top of him. Heejun laughs, more than happy to scratch his fingers through Sehyoon’s fur and over the arch of Dongwon’s nose.

“He is,” Donghun agrees softly, even as he watches Sehyoon roll onto his back and Dongwon scramble to find a new purchase. As well adjusted as Sehyoon seems, it’s been months of the hound wandering in and out of Donghun’s house, months of him curling up in the corner of the kitchen while Donghun bustled about. Months and not once has he shifted.

“He’s not sad like you are, it’s different.” It’s blunt, but that’s not something that Donghun’s one to flinch away from. He knows just how sensitive Seoham is, has known it since the day they first met.

“He’s grieving.”

That’s the crux of it all.

As much as Donghun’s own sadness just is, Sehyoon’s is actually born of something.

He picks at the sleeve of his sweater, watching the way Sehyoon jumps up and then onto Heejun, pushing him down so he can nose at his face. He’s witnessed the highs and lows, seen the way they mirror many of Donghun’s own. The way that some days it’s impossible to get out of bed, while others it’s as if they can’t find enough to do to fill the day with how much energy they have.

Those highs seem so far and few between and every time, they make the lows feel worse.

Donghun catches the tail ends of Seoham saying something, but misses it as Sehyoon trots over and drops his face down across Donghun’s thigh, looking up at him expectantly. He gives a low growl, but it’s far from threatening. With a sigh, Donghun tilts forward, hands falling to Sehyoon’s scruff as he rests his forehead against the top of his head.

“No comparing us, right?” Sehyoon makes another noise at the question, a confirmation. It’s a wretched thought, to be ashamed of being depressed, one that, despite everything he knows, is sometimes hard to ignore. As if all it might take for him to feel better is just to try harder. Terrible thoughts born of an illness he can’t help.

He sinks his fingers into Sehyoon’s fur, giving himself a moment to reorient himself, to remind himself that they’re both dealing with monsters of different breeds. One not lesser than the other, just different.

When he sits back up, he catches Seoham smiling, but he doesn’t say anything, just calls for his coven and asks if they’re ready to start cooking. For once, it makes Donghun feel like he hasn’t disappointed anyone, that maybe he’s taking steps in the right direction.

“I think I need horehound,” Donghun murmurs as he sorts through the jars lining his cupboards. It’s become part of his routine to talk through just what he’s doing to Sehyoon, filling the normally quiet space with his own chatter. It’s startling to realize how he’d stopped talking, how the only times he ever said anything was when Seoham phoned to check in or when he went out to the shop.

The realization of just how much he had been isolating himself.

A nudge at his hip has him stilling and he glances down at Sehyoon. Another knock of Sehyoon’s snout against his hip, before he’s padding off towards the back door.

Donghun turns around, pausing as he looks at everything he’s already pulled down to make into a tincture. As much as he wants to finish everything he had set out to do that morning, he knows that following Sehyoon is far more important. “Alright, let me grab my boots.”

He pushes the jars back on the counter, as far from the edge as he can get them, before turning back to Sehyoon. The hound cocks his head, tail thumping against the ground in the clearest sign that he’s satisfied that Donghun is going to follow him.

With a sigh, Donghun wanders to the front door to grab his boots, before heading off to where Sehyoon is waiting at the back. He’s patient as he watches Donghun pull on his boots, only standing up to nose at his face while he’s crouched down, once. Donghun pushes at his muzzle, laughing as he goes back to tying up his laces. Sehyoon gives a huff, but it’s followed with his tail smacking against the door, obviously pleased.

“Are we going to be gone long?”

Sehyoon turns around to paw at the door once and Donghun pushes himself back up to his feet.

“Alright, I got it.”

Sehyoon bounces back and Donghun laughs as he opens the door. He launches himself out into the garden and Donghun trails after him, not bothering to lock the door behind him. He’s not exactly sure what Sehyoon wants him for, outside of following after him as he wanders off to the back of the yard. He waits at the treeline for Donghun to catch up and then starts off again.

Donghun keeps up easily, familiar enough with the way the trees get thicker and underbrush heavier. He’s spent enough time wandering past the clearing of his yard to forage whatever he can find past the tree line to know the area. Sehyoon races forward, looping around a tree to come back to Donghun’s side, nose bumping against Donghun’s hand.

“I’m following, I’m following.”

Sehyoon drags him through the trees until they manage to stumble upon the makeshift path, and then rushes forward again.

Following him, Donghun keeps his pace relaxed, snorting every time Sehyoon comes tearing back up the path towards him. He noses at Donghun’s hand every time, earning Donghun’s fingers scratching behind his ears, before starting back off again. It’s not how he expected to be spending his early morning, but Sehyoon’s thrown all of his routines left of center.

It’s not until they come across a meadow that Sehyoon starts to slow, falling in behind Donghun to nudge against the back of his leg.

“Here?”

Sehyoon makes a soft noise, before darting off to the other end of the meadow, where he drops down onto his belly in the dirt.

Donghun follows after him, crouching down beside him and eyeing the plant that Sehyoon’s nosing at.

“Yarrow?”

He reaches out, hand gentle as he traces over the leaves of the plant with his thumb, familiar with it. Sehyoon gives a huff beside him, the thunk of his tail against the ground the only confirmation that this is exactly what he’d been leading him towards.

There’s an intrinsic understanding that it’s not meant for love or healing, and Donghun looks away from the delicate white petals to Sehyoon, who’s watching him with eyes far too wise.

“What do we need courage for?”

Sehyoon’s tail thumps against the ground again, before he pushes up to his feet and presses his muzzle against Donghun’s cheek in the only answer he’ll get.

“Excuse me!”

Donghun jerks his gaze up from where he has his hands buried in the dirt to pull up his lemon balm. Beside him, Sehyoon doesn’t react, just remains sprawled out in the grass, the sunshine catching in his dark fur.

He looks over to the fence, catches sight of the man with his arms folded over the top of the fence, his chin resting on them. He’s wearing a large straw brimmed hat, but even with his face shaded from the sun, Donghun can see how his cheeks are pink and the way he’s smiling. “Hello?”

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t mean to creep, but I saw your garden when I was out for a walk yesterday and today you’re out here…” the man starts, fingers tapping along the wooden fence. Donghun runs the back of his wrist over his forehead, pushing his bangs out of his face as he stands up to walk over closer to the fence. “I wanted to know if I could ask you about it.”

“Gate’s to your right,” Donghun gestures, before wandering over to the table under the overhang. He picks up the glass of water he’d left out and quickly drinks half of it, uncaring for the dirt he smears up the side of the glass.

The gate creaks open and Donghun glances over to where the man is entering, taking in his scraped knees and mud covered boots. He’s careful to close the gate behind him, turning back to look over Donghun’s backyard with wide eyes. His wonder is almost palpable and Donghun hides his smile behind another drink of water.

Setting it back down, he wanders back out into the sun and stands at the edge of the garden, gesturing for the man to join him. He quickly does and there’s something endearing about the way his attention drags over the garden and flicks up to Donghun every few moments.

“I’m Yuchan,” he finally says, almost shy, as he crouches down at the edge of the beds, hands folded together over his knees.

“I’m Donghun and that’s Sehyoon. It’s nice to meet you, Yuchan.” Donghun lowers himself down beside him, barely restraining a laugh when Yuchan’s gaze jerks to where Donghun pointed Sehyoon out. His mouth falls open, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“It’s really nice to meet both of you, Euijin didn’t say there was another coven in town.”

The name is familiar and Donghun easily puts it to the trio that lives out on the orchard on the other side of town. He’s bought from them in the past, during the fall harvests, but never put together that they were a coven themselves. Donghun clears his throat, looking over to where Sehyoon is watching him in turn. “We’re only just forming. It’s just Sehyoon and I right now.”

“Oh!” Yuchan sounds surprised and Sehyoon gives a grunt, before laying his head back down. “Sorry, he’s a familiar so I just assumed. I haven’t found my coven yet.”

“It’s okay, I know it can be exciting to meet others who practice sometimes,” Donghun laughs when Yuchan shoots him a relieved smile. “You wanted to ask about my garden though?”

“I wanted to see what you were growing! When I walked past the last few days, I could feel it buzzing and I was hoping I might catch you working out in your yard.” It’s easy to see the way Yuchan’s enthusiasm wins out over his previous embarrassment and he tilts forward, eyes wide as he looks back down to the garden.

Donghun knows what he means, at the way some spaces buzz with energy. Energy that draws people to them and how they often don’t know why. “I’m growing everything here to use, so good intentions and all that.”

“It made me miss my own garden,” Yuchan states. “The orchards are nice, but they’re not the same.”

“Nothing like being able to get your hands right into the dirt and making sure the plants are happy.”

Yuchan nods enthusiastically, “Yeah!”

It’s easy to see where Yuchan’s ties lean, with how he lights up at the way Donghun seems to understand. Green witch, Donghun shakes his head and reaches out to the thyme in front of Yuchan, carefully bending one of the herbs in his direction. It’s an invitation and Yuchan gently trails his fingers over the herbs in front of him.

“There’s thyme, lemon balm, hyssop, sage, sweet woodruff, rosemary, mugwort, horehound, and basil,” Donghun points out each of the plants, despite the fact he can already tell that Yuchan is familiar with each of them. “The mint is in the pots over there, and yarrow grows out in one of the meadows, but I’d like to add some here so I don’t have to make trips to find it every time I need it fresh.”

“The lavender and catnip are over there, along with the echinacea. Bee calm and sweet peas are in pots right now, but need to be moved to a proper bed, and the sunflowers are along the fence. I want to add nasturtium and calendula yet.”

Yuchan listens intently, eyes following where Donghun points and reaching out with a tentative hand to brush over the leaves of the plants close enough to him.

“It’s a happy garden,” Yuchan finally says, looking back to Donghun with a bright smile.

It’s genuine, and a high compliment to hear about a space Donghun has spent so much time working on. It’s obvious though that Yuchan has strong ties with the way the plants almost lean into him, and how Donghun can feel the energy brighten as Yuchan touches them.

“Would you like to stay and help me weed the bed and trim the plants?”

At the offer, Yuchan’s smile grows, “Can I?”

“Yeah,” Donghun laughs and kneels down, reaching back into the lemon balm. “I only sorted out the basil and horehound, so feel free to help. Careful though, Sehyoon’s a strict boss and will tell us when it’s time to take a break.”

“I think I can handle that!” Yuchan doesn’t hesitate, folding himself down and immediately rakes his fingers through the dirt to pull the weeds from around the thyme.

Donghun watches him for a moment, but Yuchan falls into motions that breathe of familiarity. Across the garden, Sehyoon gives another huff, and Donghun shakes his head, knowing he’ll be hearing from the hound later.

When Donghun finally crawls into bed, his limbs feel heavy, the weight of spending the day out in the yard under the sun laying heavy on his shoulders. He noses into his pillow, hand reaching out across the bed in the expectation of Sehyoon hopping up beside him. Their routines now familiar in a way that makes it feel odd to fall asleep without making sure that Sehyoon is tucked in with him.

There’s a knock from the doorway and Donghun glances away from the empty spot on the bed.

The man standing in the doorway isn’t someone Donghun recognizes and it should have fear crawling up his spine that someone is in his house. There isn’t though. Instead there’s an intrinsic understanding that Donghun knows him, that this is as much Sehyoon as the hound had been.

“Hi,” Sehyoon raps his knuckles against the doorframe, voice quiet, before he carefully makes his way into the room. He’s so tentative and Donghun pats the bed, a small reassurance that Sehyoon is still welcome even if he’s just a touch different from the form Donghun has become accustomed to seeing him in.

“You’re not a pup anymore,” Donghun points out, as if it isn’t obvious. Stunned, despite knowing shifting forms is as normal for familiars as breathing. He’s watched Dongwon shift from feline to human more times than he can count to be surprised. The touch of magic a tangible thing.

Sehyoon nods and Donghun doesn’t push to ask why now after months together. He can see the relief that floods Sehyoon’s face when he leaves it.

“It was a good day,” Donghun yawns and wraps his arms around his pillow, tugging it close to his chest. He watches as Sehyoon lowers himself down to the bed, curling up on the spot he had so easily claimed for months. Maybe that was it though. A good day.

It’s quiet and Donghun uses the time to just look at Sehyoon. He’s pretty, with his strong brow and lips curved into the slightest smile. His dark hair is shaggy and long, and Donghun thinks that if he’s going to stick around in a human form, he might just have to sit him down on the edge of the bathtub and give him a trim.

“You like him.”

The statement startles Donghun from his thoughts and Sehyoon laughs at the way he jolts.

His voice comes out rough, well worn from disuse, and Donghun barely resists the urge to crawl out of bed to make a pot of tea. Something with lemon peel and honey for Sehyoon’s throat. The moment seems too delicate for him to move in though, not when this is the first time he’s properly seen Sehyoon. Caught for the first time how his eyes catch the lamplight and shine like he knows something Donghun doesn’t. Caught in how his lips curl up in the softest, shiest, smile.

“What?”

“You like him,” Sehyoon says again, a little stronger now, as he crawls further onto the bed to lay beside Donghun. Heads on the pillows and facing each other, Donghun can’t help but reach out his hand and shudder when Sehyoon takes it so easily. “Yuchan. You liked the way your garden responded to him. You like him.”

Donghun shrugs his shoulder and can’t tear his eyes away from Sehyoon’s face as he breaks into a smile. It’s crooked and Donghun wonders how many times he’s missed it in their months together with Sehyoon in a different form.

“I wanted to follow after him when he left. It felt like how I knew I had to find you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Sehyoon’s face scrunches up and his fingers tighten around Donghun’s for a moment, before he snorts. “Home is here, why would I want to follow after him?”

There’s something in the answer that has Donghun’s chest aching. Home is here.

A knock on the door and Donghun takes the cloth from Sehyoon’s grasp to dry his hands. He swats at Sehyoon’s hip, leaving the dishes to soak in the sink, before heading to the door. There’s a shiver of anxiety that makes the hairs on his arms stand on end, but Sehyoon’s presence in the house makes it easier to manage.

He hears the water start running and knows without needing to turn that Sehyoon is putting the kettle on the stovetop to heat.

It’s unusual to get anyone knocking at the door and it’s not as if anyone from Seoham’s group has called to let him know they would be stopping in. Outside of Jihun who forgets to call before dropping in, but even then, one of the others is quick to call and let Donghun know he’ll have a guest.

“It’s okay,” Sehyoon calls from the kitchen and Donghun jolts, realizing he’s stilled in the hallway.

Another knock, and Donghun pushes forward, bolstered by Sehyoon’s support.

Donghun pulls the door open, not giving himself any more time to hesitate, to think about it, to wait for them to leave.

“I needed to come back.”

Yuchan.

He’s standing at the door, expression worried as he twists his hands in front of himself.

Donghun remains quiet, taking the man in. He’s lost his hat and Donghun can catch the way his hair has been bleached lighter from the sun, how he’s still got a streak of dirt across his cheek and the knees of his overalls.

“I spent the day thinking about how right it felt to be helping you, and then the next. I didn’t want to stop by again and intrude, but—”

“But it felt like where you belonged.”

Yuchan goes so incredibly still, and Donghun glances over his shoulder to where Sehyoon is coming up behind him. When Donghun looks back though, Yuchan nods his head, pained as if he’s waiting for the inevitable response where they turn him away.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Donghun asks, every instinct in him telling him that this is the right move to make, that this is the right step.

Sehyoon’s hand brushes against his waist as he settles in against his side, “We’re just having a quiet night in.”

Yuchan’s smile is tentative, but it’s sweet, even behind his own worry. “I’d really like that.”

The two of them step back, inviting Yuchan in and Donghun nearly laughs at the way the lights brighten when he comes inside, welcoming him in just as warmly as they do.

“Was now the right time?”

Donghun’s surprised by his own question, but he doesn’t turn around to face Sehyoon now that he’s asked it. Instead he keeps his gaze down on the book in his lap and ignores the way he can see his hands trembling. He almost wonders if Sehyoon will know what he’s really asking about, but that’s a foolish thought.

It’s quiet for a moment, right up until the couch creaks as Sehyoon sits down beside him.

Carefully, Sehyoon pulls the book from his hands, closing it and setting it off onto the side table. Still, Donghun doesn’t look up, not until Sehyoon’s hands curl around his and he leans against his shoulder. It’s new, different from the way Sehyoon had so often fallen across his lap to ask for pets, but it still settles something in Donghun.

“No, but there wasn’t going to be a right time.”

Donghun sighs, twisting their fingers together. Covens are meant to be fated, perfect little connections that fit together.

You can’t just fix it.

Seoham had been right all those months ago when they’d been talking about Donghun wanting so badly to start meeting his coven. Despite those connections, despite the way they were meant to fit together, it didn’t just fix everything. That was clear in how scared Donghun was now that they were meeting the people he knew were meant to be a part of it.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” Donghun admits, voice so quiet.

Sehyoon lifts their hands, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Donghun’s hand, before releasing it. He shifts on the couch, sliding down so that he can lay his cheek against Donghun’s thigh. Without thinking, Donghun’s hand finds its way into his hair, combing through it in the dim evening light leaking in through the window.

“We don’t have to be ready,” Sehyoon starts, words soft. “We don’t deserve to miss out on having people around us, just because we’re sad. We don’t get to tell them that we’re not worth the effort, because we don’t think we are. Maybe it won’t work out, but what if it does? What if it would have worked out and we stopped it before giving it a chance?”

“We’re allowed to be happy, Donghun.”

We’re allowed to be happy.

Donghun’s chest goes tight at the words, at how honest Sehyoon is with them. It goes against everything that he’s spent years telling himself, that he has to be better before he can have anything. He thinks about how Sehyoon bullied his way into his life and how the last thing he would want is for Sehyoon to still be suffering alone.

He would never ask that of him and he wonders why he’s put that expectation on himself instead.

It’s early when Donghun pulls himself from bed, the birds only starting to make noise outside the window.

Carefully he leans over, running his fingers through Sehyoon’s hair before pressing a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t react and Donghun hums, before pushing out of bed. The floor is chilled underneath his feet as he grabs the sweater hanging from the end of the bed and wanders over to the other side.

He crouches down, folding his arms over the edge of the bed and waits.

Sehyoon’s eyes pull from the window to look at him, but he doesn’t say anything. The bags under his eyes give away the fact that he hadn’t managed to sleep, but Donghun knows his exhaustion runs deeper than a few missed hours. He reaches out, hand cupping Sehyoon’s cheek and trying not to let his worry show when Sehyoon’s breath hitches at the contact. “Do you want to stay in bed today?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. Sehyoon closes his eyes and lets himself sink down against his pillow.

“I’ll be back,” Donghun murmurs, before pushing himself back up. He pulls on his sweater and searches the drawers for pants, before padding out of the bedroom. The stairs creak as he makes his way down them, but sunlight is starting to filter in through the kitchen window when he gets there and chases away the chill of the morning.

With a sigh, Donghun pulls the loaf of bread he’d made the day before towards himself and cuts a slice. It’s mindless and easy to get it toasting and then smear a spoonful of honey over it. It gives him time to figure out what he should make for Sehyoon. Something light and easy that Donghun can take upstairs and coax him into eating.

Tea and rice porridge, he considers as he leans back against the counter, eyes on the ceiling as he works up to actually moving. Something twists in his chest at just how tired Sehyoon had looked, at how worn, and how Donghun would do anything to have him bumbling down the stairs after him with his familiar lopsided smile.

It’s a selfish thought and the one that finally has him pushing away from the counter to wander over to the fridge.

It’s not like Sehyoon isn’t allowed to have bad days, far from it. Donghun just isn’t used to the worry and the guilt of wishing that he knew just what to do.

A knock on the door has him shutting the fridge with a slam, something like relief flooding him. He knows who it will be and if answering the door means it’ll stop him from spiralling into the worry of not being able to do enough, not being good enough to help Sehyoon, he’ll take it.

Despite knowing who it will be, he still checks the window before opening the door. From the otherside of the glass, Yuchan waves, smile bright. Donghun gives a messy sigh as he shakes his head, unlocking the door with deft fingers.

“Hey,” Donghun greets as he pulls open the front door and Yuchan steps his way inside. He’s got a box that he pushes into Donghun’s hands, before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s startling, but Yuchan pulls back and looks around before Donghun can fully react.

“Morning! Where’s Sehyoon?”

It takes a moment for Donghun to move, to turn around with the box in his hands and wander to the kitchen. He can feel his cheeks going hot from the way Yuchan had so easily moved into his space and kissed him, something barely there but still so pointed. “Today’s a bad day, so he’s staying in bed.”

Yuchan makes a small noise as he presses against Donghun’s side, fingers working at the lid of the box as soon as Donghun sets it down on the kitchen table. “Euijin let me into the orchard to pick fruit yesterday. I wanted to make something for you and Sehyoon.”

Inside the box are six colourful little tarts, each topped with different fruit and coloured pansies. They’re beautiful and Donghun has to tear his gaze away from them to look at Yuchan, whose ears are just as red as Donghun’s cheeks had been. Yuchan had spent weeks watching Donghun in the kitchen when he’d invited him in from the garden, asking questions that Donghun had thought nothing of at the time.

Closing the lid of the box, Donghun loops his arm around Yuchan’s waist and pulls him in tight. “They’re beautiful, thank you. Do you want to go check on Sehyoon? I’ll make us tea and bring it up.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, before Yuchan is nodding, carefully untangling himself from Donghun and padding off to the stairs. He’s almost tentative, but the stairs don’t creak as he makes his way up them and Donghun knows he’s made the right offer by inviting him further into the space he shares with Sehyoon.

Turning back to the table, he closes the lid on the box before carefully going to store them. Later, when Sehyoon’s up for it, he’ll bring them up, but a cup of tea is more immediate. He sets the kettle to boiling, and pulls through the unlabeled jars in the cupboard above the cups.

Lemon balm, chamomile, hawthorn berry, milky oats, he sorts through the main ingredients in the blend in his head, before spooning out the measurements into his teapot. It’s all familiar motions as he fills the teapot with water and gathers three cups. He pulls down a tray to carry them upstairs and waits.

He listens carefully, but Yuchan doesn’t come back down and that’s a clear enough sign that Sehyoon hasn’t asked him to leave.

Something in him gives at that, at the idea that maybe it is just that easy. Here he is feeling terrible that he can’t do anything to help, but on days he’s been brought low, Sehyoon’s just curled up beside him and spent the day with him. He laughs, something strangled, at just how incredibly ridiculous his own panic is.

The kettle screeches and Donghun pulls it from the burner, ignoring the sting of his eyes.

He fills the cups, stirring in the smallest amount of honey, before cleaning up after himself. He can come back down later and make them something to eat. He takes the tray and starts up after Yuchan, surprised to find himself not stressed about having the other man in a space that isn’t his kitchen.

It’s odd to know that Yuchan is there, but not to hear him talking. Donghun’s gotten so used to him chattering away in the garden, filling up the quiet as Sehyoon laid beside him as he worked. He had never been quiet, but if Donghun hadn’t been the one to send him upstairs, he wouldn’t have been able to tell he was even there until he stepped into the bedroom.

Donghun is relieved to see that Sehyoon has moved, if only to curl up against Yuchan’s chest and tuck himself under his chin. Yuchan’s got his arms wrapped around him, one hand braced around the back of Sehyoon’s neck as the other traced up and down his back.

“I made tea,” Donghun murmurs as he sets the tray on the nightstand.

A part of Donghun wants to drag Sehyoon up to sitting and get him to drink and eat something, and he will, but for now he crawls onto the bed and slides down behind Sehyoon. Over his shoulder, he catches Yuchan’s soft expression, but he doesn’t say anything. He just reaches out and squeezes at Donghun’s arm, before going back to holding Sehyoon.

It’s easy to lay there while the tea cools on the nightstand, just the gentle sound of their breathing, before Yuchan starts to hum softly.

Sehyoon slowly comes to life between them, burrowing closer to Yuchan, and reaching back for Donghun to pull him in tight. This close, Donghun can feel the way Sehyoon starts to melt against them, going from tense to relaxed. How his breathing slows down into something calmer.

It’s a bad day, but where Donghun has always seen them as something to beat himself up over having because he should be doing better, the last thing he wants is to treat Sehyoon like that. Like he should be able to push past it and just get out of bed. It’s startling to realize how cruelly he’s berated himself when the idea of telling Sehyoon any of the things he tells himself makes his stomach twist in upset.

Instead, he loops his arms around Sehyoon’s waist and presses his forehead between the wings of Sehyoon’s shoulders, holding him close.

As troubling as the realization is, it settles something in him that maybe, just maybe, he should be giving himself the same kindness.

“I kissed Donghun,” Yuchan states and Donghun looks over his shoulder towards the living room.

Yuchan’s sat in the middle of the floor in front of the hearth, with Sehyoon’s head in his lap. He’s petting through Sehyoon’s hair, whispering as if Donghun isn’t still close enough to hear them. With a small snort, Donghun turns back to the stove and pulls the soup off of the burner.

“Like this?”

Sehyoon’s voice is soft and when Donghun looks back at them, he’s pushed himself up out of Yuchan’s lap and leaned into his space. He cups Yuchan’s cheek in his hand, before kissing him, tilting Yuchan’s chin up so that he can deepen it. It’s far from the quick press of lips Yuchan had given him, and Donghun can’t tear his eyes away from the way Yuchan melts against Sehyoon.

His hands reach up, tugging at Sehyoon’s shirt as he makes a small noise in the back of his throat. Sehyoon pushes him back down against the floor and straddles his hips, hands cupping Yuchan’s face as he kisses Yuchan right into laughter.

Donghun leans against the door frame, unable to help the smile crossing his face at the way the pair cling at each other on the living room floor. The only thing that would make it more predictably them would have been if they had their first kiss in the garden. Instead, it’s here in Donghun’s house as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to do.

Sehyoon pulls back, hands still on Yuchan’s cheek and looks up to Donghun.

They haven’t talked about it, about how Donghun wanted to fit together with them, but seeing the two of them breathless with laughter, Donghun thinks that maybe this is exactly what he wants.

“No, not like that. He didn’t kiss me properly at all,” Donghun answers Sehyoon’s earlier question. Yuchan’s gaze jerks away from Sehyoon, still perched so neatly on top of him and looks over to Donghun, eyes wide and cheeks pink.

“Did you want him to?” Sehyoon quirks an eyebrow and holds out his hand.

It’s an out. A place where Donghun can shake his head and set his boundaries if he wants to.

Instead, he steps into the room to take Sehyoon’s hand and lower himself down to the floor beside them. “I want you both to.”

Sehyoon laughs, tilting sideways even as he tugs at Donghun. At the same time, Yuchan reaches for him and Donghun lets them pull him into their orbit, into their laughter and joy. He lets himself forget about the worries and the fears, and sinks into the warm comfort of these two who have bullied their way into his life.

When Donghun looks out the window, it’s to find Sehyoon sprawled out in the grass, tail flicking lazily. For once, he’s not tucked into one of the dusty corners of the house, eyes watching Donghun as he bustles about and looking so incredibly sad. It’s a relief to see him perked up.

The two of them had fallen into familiar patterns that as much as Donghun is loath to admit, haven’t been great for them. Donghun has felt it in the way the floorboards had been creaking under his feet in the mornings and the way the windows had been sticking. The house complaining in all the only ways it can.

When Donghun pushes open the window this time, it does so with ease, bringing in the sound of the wind chimes.

It’s going to rain, he thinks idly as he leans forward onto the windowsill. He ignores the way Sehyoon looks at him, eyes falling instead to his garden where Yuchan is crouched wrist deep in the dirt.

He’s chattering, quietly enough that Donghun can’t pick up the words, but from the way Sehyoon’s ears twitch and his tail thumps against the ground, they’re kind.

Yuchan has dirt smeared across his nose, his hair is wind tousled, and he’s smiling like he’s never been happier. He’d thrown their routine into chaos, when he’d showed up on Donghun’s doorstep with his heavy brown work boots and scraped knees, asking if Donghun had time to talk about his garden.

Donghun gives the salve on the stove a stir, already preparing for the pink he can see on Yuchan’s cheeks. There’s a fresh pot of sun tea on the counter, and the comb beside it to pull the thistles and burrs from Sehyoon’s fur. It’s almost startling to see it all laid out for them both.

Yuchan’s laughter filters through the open window and Donghun catches sight of Sehyoon knocking him down onto the ground to nose at his face.

Above it all, there’s a knock at the door and Donghun looks away from the window. There’s no bite of anxiety coursing through him this time, only the pleasant buzz of curiosity over who it might be this time.