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When Chris gets back from his patrol, Felix is right where he left him. His back is to the door when Chris enters, humming lightly to himself as he runs a knife through herbs and animal bits before dropping them into the large cauldron by his side. Chris smiles to himself, shaking the wilderness off him, twigs and leaves that survived his change back to human sloughing off him. Felix doesn’t look up, doesn’t pause his humming.
Chris slips on the worn pair of trousers he keeps by the cabin door and forgoes his shirt. Despite the late afternoon dew, he’s still too warm when he slides his hands around Felix’s waist, pressing his body against his partner.
It’s instinct by now to slide his nose up Felix’s neck to inhale his scent deeply. He smells like Felix— sweet and warm with a hint of musk under the overpowering smells of magic and the potion ingredients he’s handling. The smell that Chris rubbed into him this morning is there, too, faded but present, and it makes the wolf in Chris rear up proudly. Mate. Mine.
A pleased sound tumbles out of him. Felix hears it and acknowledges it, laying a hand over the circle Chris has made with his arms. With the touch, he presses a message back into him in reassurance. The intent of the touch runs into Chris easily, carried by Felix’s magic. Yes. Mate. Yours.
Though Felix can speak, there are moments when he chooses not to. There are also moments when, as he has tried to explain it to Chris, his mind refuses to make words or communicate verbally. The latter makes for harder days where Chris has to hold him through it and help the feelings dissipate, something he’s never minded.
For the past few days, it’s been a lot of the first, but Chris has kept a watchful eye to make sure it doesn’t tip into the second. So far, it’s been good. Their life has continued without falter, passed in a blur of house chores and busywork, sitting by the fire at night and reading, talking, enjoying each other’s company in the silence of their cabin.
But they don’t need words between them, not when Felix can communicate with his magic when he so desires.
🍃
Early in their relationship, they’d learned of magic-sharing. Felix claimed he’d done it before, but only with other humans, and it always produced a weak reaction, barely enough to light a candle.
The first time he and Chris had shared magic, they’d almost burned the place down. Something about mixing Felix’s innate magic with Chris’ dormant magic was like holding a flame to dry brush. They sparked together, caught fire.
When Felix cannot speak, Chris is his voice wherever spoken magic is involved. They’ve found it loses no potency, causes no ill-effects to any involved. And wherever Chris can help, he will. Especially with Felix.
The potions Felix made need to be imbued with his magic. The ingredients are one part, sure, but they’re not the only part— the tree roots and pieces of bone hold magic better than normal ingredients but the magic still needs to be put into it.
So, they move into the little corner by the kitchen where Felix has tucked away his spell books and vials and sit on the floor across from each other in a circle of candles. The potions sit between them, purple and swirling with some unmentionable force, some stray bits of magic Felix’s hands brushed into them with intent. It is Chris’ role to help finish this job so that they may have something to give to Jisung the next time they take a trip to town for him to sell for them.
They clasp their hands together in a practiced manner. The candles flicker. The incantation Felix wrote out for him sits next to the potions. Chris inhales and begins reading out loud.
With the first few words, he can feel Felix’s power course through him, strongest in his hands, their point of contact. There’s a sort of gravity to Felix when they’re like this, an aura of strength. Chris always has to fight looking up at him and right now is no different. But Felix trusts him and he would never want to let him down, so he forces himself to focus on the words.
The candles flicker again, the whole circle dimming and returning with a gust of wind. Chris pays it no mind. He knows by now what starting an incantation means— follow through is needed, an ending to wrap it up and prevent any stray magic from leaking away.
Halfway through his reading he hears Felix inhale, feels him exhale cold, freezing air. A side effect. Chris keeps his voice steady, his temperament level. He feels his inherent magic surface at the words, reminding him that this part of him is there, that he, although not a creature who actively uses magic, is still made of magic. Wolves and vampires and witches and ghouls and ghosts and every creature in between and some he still doesn’t know of — all cut from the same cloth. His wolf rears its head, threatening to rip itself out of Chris’ skin. But it doesn’t, not when something as important as this is happening.
The words on the paper run out. Chris tries to inject every single one with the gravitas it deserves. As the thing winds down, he closes his eyes, lets Felix’s magic run through him in waves. Up his arms, into his chest, rattling everything in him. He inhales. Exhales. It’s almost addicting, the power. Makes him almost glad he’s not the one who wields it— but he’d take it off Felix’s hands in a heartbeat, if that’s what he wanted. If he needed it.
Everything settles. The wind dies down, Felix’s icy breath returns to normal, the power recedes from Chris’ chest.
It’s still. Quiet. Chris exhales deep, calms himself down. His thumbs rub the back of Felix’s hands, calming them both down.
He opens his eyes. Examines Felix’s calm face, eyes closed, mouth closed. The very picture of calm.
It surprises him, every time, just how gracefully Felix holds his power. He knows it’s immense and all-consuming but Felix wields it without a hint of it showing in him. Chris is awed by it every time.
Felix opens his eyes, meets Chris’ gaze. A soft, tired smile appears on his lips. Chris can’t help his answering smile, too in love to hide it.
His mind reverberates with the feeling of gratefulness. Thankfulness being pressed into his skin with the same soft magic Felix always uses with him. It all makes a feeling in his chest grow ever larger.
🍃
With the potions ready and packed away, all that’s left is a ride into town to sell them. Once the sun rises, they prepare their wagon and horse in comfortable silence and trod down a beaten path to birdsong and woodsound.
The magical barriers that Felix has secured the edge of their property with always leaves Chris feeling like he’s passed under a freezing waterfall. The wolf in him always, without fail, makes him want to shake it off. Some sort of deep-seated instinct in him calling for it. So, the moment they cross over into unsecured territory, Chris shivers. Felix looks at him so amused, as if this doesn’t happen every time.
They don’t need to be touching for this one— their silent conversation happens fluently and is borne of so many years of being together. Felix smiles fondly, a teasing edge to it, which all makes Chris sigh, exasperated but equally as fond.
The rest of the ride into town is spent basking in the few warm rays of sun that shine through the trees, relishing in the feeling of spring turning to summer. The breeze is light and carries on it the scent of nature, filling Chris’ lungs with the same air he breathes when he goes on his patrols.
It never takes them long to get to the edges of town, the first few sparse houses coming into view through breaks in the trees. The smell of humanity, of smoke and grime hits Chris’ nostrils soon after, and when they turn the corner, the small village comes into view.
It’s far from bustling but still the closest settlement they know of. The unpaved road branches off into two smaller roads, all bordered by wooden buildings which hold a blacksmith, an inn, a temple, and a shop. The rest of the buildings contain residents, who barely give them a second glance. It might be the charm of stealth Felix imbued the wagon with so many months ago, or it might be because they’re a staple here. Every so often, they ride into town just like this in order to hand the potions off to—
“Hey, over here!” A voice breaks through the relative quiet of the village. Sure enough, when Chris looks up, he spots Jisung getting up from his chair settled just outside the inn. They slow their wagon down as Jisung falls into step beside them. It’s a short walk to the store, barely two buildings down, so neither party makes any real effort to change positions.
“Where’s Changbin?” Chris asks.
“Oh, he’s manning the store.”
“Y’sure that’s a good idea?”
“Eh, he can handle it. Who would ever wanna make any trouble with a bounty hunter watching over a general store?”
Chris snorts. True enough.
They pull the wagon onto the front of the shop, tying the horses to the post and finally meeting Jisung eye to eye.
“Didn’t expect either of you for another week,” Jisung says as he pulls Chris into a quick hug, gives Felix one as well.
Felix catches Chris’ wrist, pressing the words into him which he relays easily, “Sorry, should’ve sent a letter.”
“Ah,” Jisung waves the apology off, “you’re here already. What are we getting this time?”
Chris doesn’t need Felix’s intent to know this one. He was there when the potions were made, he spoke the words that imbued them with the factors they now possess. “Healing. Heard there was a bad fever coming through town. Felix thought it would help.”
The last part is a half-truth. Felix never uttered the words or even implied them with his touch, but Chris knows him so well by now that he’s sure that’s why. And the smile Felix gives him, a quick, tender quirk of the lips cements his suspicion, turns the half-truth into a certainty.
“Great!” Jisung enthuses. “Well, come on, let’s go in.”
They make it inside, Chris carrying the softly jingling crate into the cozy shop. Behind the counter stands Changbin, picking his nails clean with a large knife. If Chan didn’t know him so well, he’d certainly be intimidated by the obvious bounty hunter attire, armor plates and cloak on his shoulders. Once he spots them though, the aura breaks with the wide smile that grows on his face.
Despite the counter having a clearly marked entry and exit, Changbin jumps across it, landing in front of the trio. He takes the potions off Chris’ hands, sets them on the counter, and quickly turns back to pull him into a hug.
“Hey!” Changbin greets as he squeezes Chris. “Did you just get in?”
“Found them wandering around main street, looking all lost,” Jisung answers for him. “Can we keep them?”
With a snort, Changbin trades crushing Chris for crushing Felix. “You can’t even take care of yourself, don’t push your luck.”
“Yeah,” Jisung quickly counters, “that’s why I have you.”
“Aw,” Chris coos, “that’s sweet because it’s true.”
Much to Jisung’s botherment, Changbin guffaws and Felix lets out a chuckle at the jab.
“You both staying for long?” Changbin asks. “Our guest room is always open for you.”
“Not tonight,” Chris answers. It's an offer they make always and an opportunity Chris and Felix take often, but having discussed it first. With no such discussion happening earlier, Chris is certain in at least this.
“At least let us buy you lunch,” Changbin offers.
“Yeah, come on,” Jisung adds, “I don’t know what Minho’s making today but it smelled incredible.”
A quick look at Felix communicates the simple implication of Why not? Chris relays the information quickly, “Sure. If you guys are buying.”
He’s met with twin smiles. It takes Jisung no time to set the potions behind the counter, away from prying eyes. Chris knows Jisung will offer them to whoever he deems fit, whoever won’t ask too many questions. And he knows that, not just Jisung, but Changbin as well, will protect Felix from anyone who might come around wondering about the spare magic lying around.
As soon as it’s sorted, Changbin slings his arms around the both of them, pulling them in the direction of the door. Jisung trails behind to lock the shop’s wooden doors with a heavy lock. They don’t wait for him as they make their way over to Seungmin’s inn where the chimney spits out smoke Chris can smell a little sharper than the others— the smell of charring meat catches his attention, suddenly glad he’s accepted the offer of a free lunch.
Changbin keeps up the jolly conversation of their mutual friends and what they’ve been up to as they make it inside. They greet Seungmin happily and Jisung hollers to have him pull Minho out of the kitchen so he can say hello.
It devolves then. A slow day at the inn leaves the six of them around the table, sharing a post-dinner drink, barely midday and all of them shameless for it. They see Hyunjin, when he comes in to find Jisung and ask why the shop is closed. It’s all quickly forgotten when he’s roped into their conversation, the hours seeming like seconds when they’re together. Even Jeongin, Seungmin’s unbothered right-hand man, joins them for a second before taking over the bar again, muttering something about how somebody has to work around here.
What makes Chris the happiest of all is how plainly he can spot Felix’s happiness, how he uses his magic to press intent into their friends when absolutely necessary, otherwise looking at Chris and communicating silently through their own language, both of them so attuned to each other's expressions so well, Chris might as well write a book on Felix.
The magic helps, of course, but Chris has never needed it to understand Felix.
After conversation dwindles, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jisung walk Chris and Felix to their carriage and wave them away happily.
Jisung is loudest of all when he exclaims, “See you next month!”
🍃
They’re back at their cabin by late afternoon. When night falls, the horses have been put away and the chickens have been fed, everything tidied and ready for the morning. Which is why, the second they’re inside for the night, Chris doesn’t feel guilty when he shifts into a wolf almost instantaneously.
It’s wordless, the way they settle onto the seat by the fire. Hands run over wolf’s fur in a methodical, hypnotizing way. Chris feels his breath puff out of him, slow and bordering on the edge of sleep. He’s warm like this, laying his head on Felix’s lap, a full wolf and all the calmer for it.
It’s needed, sometimes. The wolf is like a muscle that requires stretching, lest it break through the human skin by force. And Chris knows this by now, years into his life. Wolf by blood, not by bite, he’s known for years what it all entails.
He turns onto his back, earning him a soft laugh from Felix. When the hand presses into his chest and rubs into the thick fur, he catches Felix’s intent again. Fond of you.
Chris huffs happily.
Another few seconds pass, only the crackling of the fire and the flipping of a page breaking the silence. Chris floats, almost on the brink of sleep when his ear twitches at the sound of the book closing, Felix’s hand stilling.
Another intent. Need.
Sharp eyes open, meeting Felix’s gaze. With a sigh, he wills himself to turn, his wolf melting off like a thawing river. He lays there, naked as the day he was born, without a hint of insecurity in him. Not in front of Felix.
“Yeah?” Chris asks, not expecting an answer.
Still, he gets one. Felix’s voice is rough from disuse, rocks crunching underfoot on a trodden path, “Yeah.”
The hand on his chest presses in again, the intent returning. Want.
Chris sets an elbow under himself, lifting up and meeting Felix halfway in a slow kiss. He feels fingers trailing their way down to his stomach, making him shudder.
They barely make it to their bed, too wrapped up in each other to move urgently, but when they do, Chris is laid out below Felix’s hungry eyes. Every touch communicates a new thought, the fleeting feelings of compliments passing through Chris’ mind in rapid succession. This always happens when they press together like this, but when Felix is nonverbal, the feeling multiplies. It feels like Felix is whispering it into his chest, every word and meaning sinking deep into the marrow of his bones.
It’s bliss, being taken apart like this. It’s heaven, coming back together under Felix’s attentive hands.
When all that was going to happen has happened, they lay together, breathing each other's air and staring into faces adoringly. They’re connected at a single point, hands clasped between them as they simply look at each other. Like this, Felix’s magic carries into Chris briefly, thoughts flitting into his mind unbidden and disjointed. No words, no intents, just bits of excess magic that Felix sometimes lets roll off him in waves and land squarely in Chris’ consciousness.
Vague and disjointed in theme but brought together by the connecting thread of love. Of care. The smile tugs at him before he can register it, and he watches as Felix answers with his own smile. Chris tangles their fingers together, Felix’s bright smile shining, even in the candlelight.
Love you, Chris presses into the touch. I love you. I’m yours.
He doesn’t use magic in the same way Felix does, but if he focuses enough, he knows he can press the words into Felix’s skin. It’s a far cry from anything Felix does, the intent weaker and more of a vague feeling, but it’s something, a small gesture to make Felix know he’s loved. That he’s adored.
The way Felix’s eyes narrow with his softening smile makes him think he’s succeeded. The bright happiness he sees on those wide, lovely lips and too-big teeth is mirrored in his own chest, so full of appreciation that he’s almost bursting with it.
He’s so in love that he’s spilling over with it. The wolf in him thumps its tail happily.
The last thing Chris remembers before falling asleep is mentally mapping yet another constellation on Felix’s face, connecting imaginary lines between the shining, perfect dots on his skin.