Work Text:
The room wasn’t spinning. Logically, Yeosang knew that the world around him was steady, unmoving, stable and that it was he who was swirling like a spinning top forgotten on the floor. Making it through his front door and remembering to lock it was an impressive feat, considering the state of inebriation he was in, but traversing the kitchen for a bottle of off-brand gatorade felt nearly impossible.
His phone buzzed occasionally, bringing him back to the present whenever he grew too distant in his thoughts, an anchor to reality. Blearily, he checked the group chat as he slumped against the counter, temporarily abandoning his quest for needed hydration. The message was unintelligible- Yeosang couldn’t tell if it were he who was too drunk to read or Mingi who was too drunk to text, but either way the message might as well have been written in Latin.
Dragging his feet across the cheap black and white linoleum, he slipped across the small space to the cupboard, where he dug out the drink before awkwardly sliding back to the counter. Letting his phone fall onto the slightly cluttered surface, he used all his brain power left to figure out which way to twist the cap, ignoring the pinging of his phone as he did so. The second the cap was off and he shakily raised the bottle to his mouth, he decided nothing in the world would ever taste as heavenly as that knock-off glacial freeze.
Several gulps and one spiritual awakening in, he finally cued into the odd tapping noises outside of his balcony window. Yeosang’s apartment was on the third floor, his balcony small and only big enough for one chair and the awkwardly shaped potted bonsai tree that San gave to him two birthdays ago. There shouldn’t have been anything up there to be making such a noise, but sure enough, after a few seconds Yeosang realized he wasn’t imagining it. Distractedly he set the not-gatorade down and picked up his phone, clumsily sliding open the camera to record what was certainly a pointless video considering his lack of ability in filming at the moment.
“Guys,” He mumbled, “There’s tapping…On the window. I’m gonna open it.”
With only minimal mistakes he was able to send the video to the group chat, giggling as he slid over to the locked balcony. The space was small enough that there wasn’t a light to the outside, just whatever light reflected from the kitchen out there. In the dimness he could make out a tiny face pressed against the glass- dark, small, and round.
Ignoring the groupchats pinging again, he flipped the camera on and took a photo of the cute little animal standing on its hind legs now. The photos were undoubtedly blurry, but it didn’t matter- all of their vision was blurry right now, after all. They would understand.
[Yeosang: gonna let it in. cute cat! fat cat! fat fat fat fat fat cat. fat cat roommate. (image attached)1:42 a.m.]
With an ignored whooshing sound, Yeosang sent the message and shoved his phone back in his pocket, heading for the door. Just as he flipped the lock, his phones notifications went wild, buzzing and pinging ceaselessly, making him laugh. They were sure to be jealous of the fact that now he had a special cat roommate, one that had chosen him as a housemate. The sliding door opened and the fat cat waddled in, immediately heading for the living room. Yeosang giggled again, grabbing his drink and heading off to his room.
He would check the groupchat in the morning. For now, he needed sleep. He stripped down to his underwear and then collapsed into his bed, unconsciousness hitting him barely seconds after he was down.
~*~
The morning came with nothing but a screaming sun and the desire for eternal night as Yeosang’s body rejected the thought of consciousness. The groan that left his throat was dry, pained. Morning was not welcomed.
Yeosang sluggishly rolled to his side, adjusting so the arm he had been laying on was no longer propped awkwardly so blood flow could resume to the sad, tingling limb. Everything in his room was as it was last night, his clothes strewn on the floor, abandoned, the lights off and the blinds open. The only difference was that the other half of his bed was not empty- rather a head of messy silver hair and fluffy dark ears rested on the pillow beside him, twitching as Yeosang shifted around and disturbed the air and silence.
Who the fuck is that?
Yeosang shuffled through his mind as fast as he could, though there was a heavy lag due to unprocessed alcohol. He couldn’t remember picking anyone up last night- it was Seonghwa’s birthday party. They had gone drinking and each went home either alone or with their respective partners, Yeosang being the former. He remembered the taxi ride. He remembered the not-gatorade. He did not remember this stranger.
Reasonably, Yeosang should’ve panicked and kicked the stranger from his bed. He should’ve jumped from the sheets and grabbed his trusty-rusty-knicked-up aluminum baseball bat from high school and used it to threaten this intruder. He should’ve scrambled for his phone and called emergency services. Reasonably, there were many things Yeosang should have done.
This, though, would have meant moving. It wasn’t that Yeosang didn’t want to move, but more so that his body absolutely refused to move. So instead, Yeosang did the opposite to whatever the most reasonable option was- he went back to sleep.
~*~
The next time Yeosang woke up, the sun was above his apartment complex and no longer blinding him through the window. It must have been midday, then, he supposed. This time he was also alone. The silver hair and ears must’ve been just a mirage curated from the leftover alcohol, he surmised. Nothing too grandeur- just a trick of the eye influenced by substances.
This time with his awakening, he would have to move, considering his bladder felt like it was going to explode and he desperately needed something to drink. Stumbling, he made his way out of bed and out of his room, heading for the bathroom. As he used the toilet he tried to make sense of last night, but everything was truly just a messy blur of laughter and fun. It was the ideal night out, all things considered.
As he washed his hands he took a dissolvable anti-nausea to settle his stomach before gulping down a couple glasses of water from the sink, not caring how gross it may or may not be. In a hazy blur he headed back to his bedroom to locate his pants from last night and hope that his phone was in it. Luckily, drunk Yeosang had pocketed his phone so he wouldn’t have to search the apartment for it, though drunk Yeosang was not smart enough to plug it in and therefore the only thing that happened when he pressed the button was the sad reflection on the black surface looking a little bit sadder.
With shaking hands he plugged it in and collapsed into bed once again, hoping to milk out a couple more hours of rest before he forced himself back to life.
~*~
Yeosang’s bed was always soft- it was warm and cozy and full of soft and fluffy things, like extra blankets and a few stuffies he’d gathered from friends and family over the years. This was to say that Yeosang’s bed was never uncomfortable for him and things never felt wrong in the space. If that was all true, why did Yeosang feel as though he were being stabbed in the spine by something obscenely out of place amongst the fluff and soft he had been accustomed to?
Yeosang reached awkwardly behind him to grab at the spot where he felt something poking him, fingers bumping unexpectedly into something cold and smooth. Metal. A fork?
“What the fuck?” He wheezed, bringing the offending object around only to confirm his suspicions. “Why is there a fucking fork in my bed?”
Yeosang went to roll over, tossing his shoulder over rather carelessly as he focused on his reflection in the offending utensil. When something else stabbed into his lower back and shoulder blade simultaneously, he couldn’t hold back the surprised yelp that tore through his throat. A glance to the outerior half of his bed told him that it was covered with various objects. Tucked into the folds of the sheets and duvet, laying both under and on top, was an array of shiny and colorful objects. Several die from his old DND collection met his eye first on the pillow beside his head, paired with several green marbles and one large paperclip. Down the bedspread was various kitchen utensils; chopsticks, spoons, the lid to his cooking pot. Further down he found a pile of coins and necklaces haphazardly shoved beneath the corner of the sheet, undoubtedly disturbed from his rustling.
Of the many things running through his mind as he studied the mess, Yeosang knew only one thing for certain- he hadn’t done this. And if he hadn’t, who had?”
Just as the realization hit him in the chest, his bedroom door swung open. The man standing in the doorway was probably around his height with a slimmer build, taking up both more and less space than Yeosang would have on his own. His hair was a mess of waves atop his head, a sterling silver in color that Yeosang vaguely recalled from somewhere- two pointy charcoal ears flicking on the top of his head. He was wearing something of Yeosang’s, an oversized white tee shirt that Yeosang himself had stolen from Mingi, and a pair of Yeosang’s boxers- familiar only because there was a neon green paint splatter on the leg from where Hongjoong had attacked him one day in a fit of unusual juvenility. The man didn’t look threatening- if anything, he looked as though he belonged in Yeosang’s apartment, wearing his clothes, holding his rainbow keyboard. The only problem was Yeosang had no idea who this man was or how he got in.
“You’re awake.” The man’s voice was higher than Yeosang expected, though it suited his appearance. Soft and chirpy, all rounded with no harshness. “Good. You need to store your valuables better.”
Yeosang’s jaw was slightly slack as he shifted to sit up right as the man padded over on the balls of his toes. There was silence as the man lifted the end of the blanket to tuck the keyboard under it, patting it with an odd chirping noise as he settled it in properly. Truly, Yeosang could only watch as the man rearranged his bed.
“There.” He finally settled with the arrangement, the fluffy tail Yeosang had somehow missed coming into view as it waggled happily. It was striped the same color as his hair and ears in perfect, fluffy rings. The smile he passed Yeosang was blinding and unrequited. “Your nest was lacking. You need to do better otherwise you might lose the things precious to you!”
The man didn’t seem to mind the silence as he climbed onto the foot of the bed, getting comfortable in place to watch Yeosang’s assessment of the situation. For the longest moment, Yeosang could only stare at him, the wheels in his mind clogged with the sole thought of who the fuck is this?
Finally, he gave in and groaned, fumbling with the side of his bed where he remembered he dropped his phone to charge, eventually finding the device tucked underneath the pillow (definitely not his doing). After a few silent seconds of waiting for it to turn on, his lockscreen popped on with a millisecond of clearness before the slew of groupchat messages came flooding in. Additionally to the expected messages came an onslaught of missed calls and voicemails and several other social media notifications. Typing in his passcode, he checked the groupchat first to see what had happened to cause such an uproar. The last message sent in the chat left Yeosang more confused than the strange man sitting by his feet, still staring intently at him.
[Mingi: rip yeoyeo, you won’t be missed. praying i get ur pokemon collection. 12:03 p.m.]
Rapidly, Yeosang typed out a message to send before searching through whatever had happened the previous night.
[Yeosang: the fuck is wrong with all of you? i’m not dead. and mingi you don’t even like pokemon, shut up. 1:16 p.m.]
[Seonghwa: FINALLY YOU ANSWER 1:16 p.m.]
[Hongjoong: oh you’re in so much trouble 1:16 p.m.]
[Yeosang: the fuck did i do? 1:17 p.m.]
[Seonghwa: WHERES THE RACCOON? 1:17 p.m.]
[Yeosang: the WHAT? 1:17 p.m.]
Yeosang quickly began scrolling up, ignoring the new notifications at the bottom as they began to pile up. Finally, he found his last message and the photos attached and blanched. It was a blurry photo of his dark balcony, but the shape of the raccoon in the window was unmistakable. Beneath the photo were a mix of responses ranging from Yunho’s let it in to Seonghwa’s you giant idiot don’t let a raccoon into your house. Yeosang hadn’t seen any of them until now, meaning his drunken self had truly though that the raccoon was a cat.
Yeosang blinked a couple of times at the photo before glancing up at the strange man sitting by his feet. “Are you a raccoon, by any chance?”
He shrugged lazily, still smiling slightly, “Kind of?”
“Alright.” Yeosang didn’t know what else to say, so he didn’t add anything else, his mind still bumbling from the intensity of last night and the unrealness of this morning. Instead of attempting to sort out his reality, Yeosang struggled from the bed to head to the kitchen. His stomach was making a fuss and at the moment he didn’t feel as though he had the capacity to care about anything other than his belated breakfast. Food would solve a majority of his problems, he decided, nothing else mattered in the moment. Quiet footsteps followed him into the kitchen, with only a moments hesitation. Yeosang didn’t think he minded- he could make breakfast for two, he supposed. Calling over his shoulder as he entered the kitchen, his voice croaked slightly, “Do raccoons like eggs?”
The chirping noise from earlier responded first before the footsteps rapidly sped up and the man was close behind him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It seemed as though he were waiting for the acception to his presence and Yeosang couldn’t find it in himself to reject him. “Yes! Oh, yes!”
Yeosang hummed his agreement before pulling out several eggs from the small fridge, along with the carton of grapes. He slid the grapes across the small counter to where the other sat. “Chew on those while you wait then, I guess.”
The strangers chirping returned and Yeosang was beginning to think the noise meant he was happy- or content, at the very least. He wasn’t familiar with raccoon behavior- nor with what meant they were happy or not, though he was familiar with humans and the way the man’s eyes brightened at the offering was all the context clues he needed.
While he fried the eggs and waited for the toast to pop, Yeosang listened to the crunching of the grapes and the occasional happy chirp and coo that the other would let out as he munched from the carton, seemingly perfectly content to just eat whatever Yeosang offered. There were still too many questions left unasked in Yeosang’s mind, but today was not the day he decided. He had work in a couple of hours and he needed to get ready along with cleaning up the mess that the man had made across his bed. The energy to inquire further about such an odd happening was simply not there. Another part of Yeosang assumed this all to be a hangover dream and he would wake up and laugh about it in the groupchat. Maybe he had let a raccoon in last night, one that ended up biting him, and this was his rabies fever dream. He didn’t know and right now, he didn’t particularly care, the scent of egg and toast making his stomach rumble distractingly.
Plating the eggs was easy, though he almost forgot to split it up- he was too accustomed to being alone. When the plate was slid in front of the stranger, his dark honey eyes lit up excitedly, the same toothy grin reappearing on his face as he beamed upwards at Yeosang. “For me?”
“Of course.” Yeosang grabbed out a pair of wooden chopsticks for them both (his kitchen drawers were nearly empty and the sight made him frown). “Eat.”
The man didn’t have to be told twice, though he ate much more delicately than Yeosang thought. Instead of using the chopsticks, he grasped the egg politely between his fingers, gingerly eating from the outside in with small little nibbles that made squishy noises. Yeosang could’ve corrected him- should have corrected him- but he didn’t. That wasn’t his problem. This afternoon, his only problem was feeding himself and then showering.
Their shared meal was quiet, the man’s nibbles filling the silence between them, up until Yeosang finally asked, “Do you have a name?”
The man tilted his head, his hair flopping with the motion. “Wooyoung.”
“Ah. Okay.” Yeosang shifted his chopsticks around awkwardly, Wooyoung’s eyes still stuck to him. “I’m Yeosang.”
Wooyoung chirped. Yeosang blushed. The rest of the meal was quiet.
~*~
“Wooyoung, get out.”
“Why?” Wooyoung hadn’t sounded so dejected since Yeosang had met him.
“Wooyoung, I’m trying to take a shower. Please…leave.” Yeosang was getting desperate, clinging to the towel around his waist with white knuckles.
Wooyoung chirped his ears flickering, “I can shower. I like water. Please?”
“After me, you can! Right now you need to- you need to get out so I can shower first.” Wooyoung’s frown was guilt inducing and made Yeosang return the expression. This man was a stranger, Yeosang tried to reassert to himself. He did not know this man nor did this man know him- however, the longer Wooyoung stared at him with the saddest expression he could muster, the less inclined Yeosang was to continue the fight. He let out a frustrated groan, kicking the door shut from where Wooyoung had broken in as he was stripping. “Fine. But you stay out here while I shower, okay? You don’t come in. You can have a shower after me.”
Wooyoung’s ears perked and flickered, his tail fluffing unusually as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah, yeah! I’ll stay here. My old master did that for a while, too! She would make me sit and wait- I’m not good at it though.”
“You’re not good at sitting?” Yeosang asked as he turned on the water, “That’s not possible.”
“No, listening. I’ve been told I don’t listen very well- hey, you keep more of your valuables in here.” The disappointment in his tone made Yeosang blink several times. He followed the raccoon’s gaze until he saw the towel ringlet on the wall by the sink. “Someone may steal your valuables if you don’t keep them in your nest.”
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang said gently, “The only one stealing my valuables right now is you.”
“I’m not stealing!” Wooyoung’s voice pitched up as his tail wobbled behind him, “I am reorganizing! You have not taken good care of your valuables!”
“Wooyoung, please just sit and wait for me while I shower…Don’t touch anything.”
The laugh Wooyoung responded with was more of a repeated heh noise than anything, but Yeosang took it as acceptance. He needed to get ready for his day, anyways, and he was running out of time before his shift at the bar. Reluctantly, he tucked his towel on the bar and slipped into the glass case shower before Wooyoung could turn his attention back on him. Hopefully, the hot water would make him feel clearer.
~*~
“You’re joking?” Seonghwa leaned against the counter, eyes wide and large as he absorbed the information Yeosang was spoon feeding him. Seonghwa looked gorgeous as ever in a velvet black top that matched his hair and makeup, pouty lips dropped in a surprised expression, “That’s a joke, right?”
“No,” Yeosang shook his head, wiping the glossy black bar in front of him, “I’m unfortunately very serious.”
Hongjoong shoved Seonghwa’s shoulder lightly, frowning at Yeosang, looking ever-like the angry pixie Yunho called him, “Stop telling him lies, you know Seonghwa is gullible.”
“I’m not!” Both Seonghwa and Yeosang retorted quickly in sync, equally as flustered by the accusation.
Yeosang waved the towel at him, “I’m being serious. This dude…This raccoon is a dude. A guy. A man. And he’s…living in my apartment. I don’t know how I’m going to get him out.”
“That’s your biggest concern?” Seonghwa blanched, eyes huge and dark under the lights, “I’m more concerned with the fact that you let a raccoon into your apartment and now there's a fully grown man eating your food and watching you shower!”
“He didn’t watch me shower,” Yeosang replied sourly, lips puckering as he crossed his arms, “He just sat on the toilet and made noises at me.”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes, fingernails tapping against the bar. “How do you always end up in these situations?”
“I’ve never had something like this happen before.” Yeosang defended, waving the cleaning rag at the elders.
“I dunno, the time Yunho dared you to eat that random mushroom you guys found and then you did was pretty comparable to letting in a raccoon.” Hongjoong shrugged, crossing his arms as Seonghwa looked as though he were about to pass out.
“You did what?” Seonghwa shrieked. Seonghwa was never invited to their more adventurous nights, considering he was fragile and full of worry.
Yeosang flinched, “I didn’t tell Seonghwa-hyung about that for a reason, Hongjoong…Anyways…The point of everything is that I feel like I’ve got flowers in my hair, this raccoon is talking to me.”
“Well…Kick him out?” Hongjoong said simply, “If you don’t want him there just…Remove him.”
An odd weight settled in Yeosang’s chest. He didn’t like that idea.
~*~
“Wooyoung?” Yeosang called to the typically empty apartment. All the lights were out when he arrived back, no sound coming from anywhere in the dark. It was a little unnerving, if Yeosang were being honest with himself. When there was no reply the entire time it took him to kick off his shoes, he tried again, “Wooyoung?”
He wandered through the living room and around the corner to the small hallway that held the bedroom door, bathroom, and closet, surprised to see all of those lights off as well. Perhaps Wooyoung had left- or maybe he hadn’t really ever existed in the first place? Yeosang wasn’t sure, but he felt kind of sad at the realization that the silver haired man was gone. He wasn’t sure if the sudden disappearance would be a positive of negative experience.
Quietly, he padded into his bedroom, flicking on the light when he made it inside, quickly heading to change into his pajamas. In minutes, he headed back out to the kitchen, intent on making himself a lonely middle-of-the-night dinner, though when he turned on the kitchen light he was startled to find himself not as alone as he had thought. The shriek that left him was certain to be embarrassing later, though it was only amplified by the equally startled screech that Wooyoung let out.
Wooyoung was still in his apartment, in his clothing, holding his bag of ice cream cone shaped marshmallows.
“Wooyoung!” Yeosang shouted, clutching his chest, “Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
“I was distracted!” Wooyoung’s voice was muffled, the syllables coming out in a gurgly mess as his cheeks puffed with the squishy sweets. “You have funny marshmallows.”
“Wooyoung, how many of those have you eaten?” The shrug Yeosang received was hardly an answer. “Put them away, you need to eat dinner. Eating sweets before dinner can make you sick…Come on, I’ll fix us something.”
The chirp he received this time was plenty enough an answer.
~*~
Yeosang had always assumed he would hate having a roommate- he was a bit of a character himself, needing space and having his odd quirks. He had always figured that no one would truly want to be his roommate, no matter how much they liked him. Wooyoung, however, was turning out to be the ideal person for him to live with. The raccoon slept most of the day and was awake at night, he was clean and neat, and he kept Yeosang good company without needing to talk every hour they were together. The matter was also helped by the fact that Wooyoung didn’t wait for Yeosang to warm up to him- instead he dove head first, curling into his side or lap whenever the option was available without hesitation, hugging him close and burrowing in comfortably. It was an oddly perfect mix that left Yeosang more relaxed now than he had felt in a while.
Wooyoung’s hair was as soft as it looked, Yeosang had discovered a week into their unnamed arrangement. Wooyoung liked to rest his head in Yeosang’s lap as he napped on the couch, typically while Yeosang played video games or read a book. Today, Yeosang had been scrolling the internet when he had stopped to play with the unruly hair, caressing the surprisingly soft tufts.
“Wooyoung?” He asked softly, testing to see if the other was awake or not. When Wooyoung gave a quiet chirp, Yeosang continued, “You said you had a previous…master...What does that mean?”
“She was the person I lived with before you.” Wooyoung said it as though Yeosang should’ve known this already, “She took care of me, kind of like you. She was really nice- busy a lot, but nice.”
“Is she the one who…” Yeosang’s fingers twirled one curled lock into a tube before letting it spring back down, “Created you?”
Wooyoung laughed, “No, that was my mom and dad…I was born, like you. I will die, like you. If you’re asking what I am, that’s a different conversation…There’s not really a word associated with us- not anymore at least. My kind has almost died out over the centuries- as witchcraft and deities and traditional worship began to fade out, so did my kind considering we weren’t as necessary anymore…There’s a few lineages still intact, like my own, but there’s not many.”
“So do you just need a person? In order to live?”
“Kind of,” Wooyoung rolled to his back to stare up at him with those eerie, knowing eyes. “We survive better off of human companions- otherwise we’re kind of pointless. We were supposed to be protectors, religious and spiritual assistants and whatnot. It’s hard to find a host, though, considering the lineages are all messy nowadays. It takes a while to find the ancestral branches that we’re supposed to go to.”
Yeosang wasn't sure he understood entirely. “The ancestral…What?”
“Like…You are the offspring of one of my ancestors' companions! So you’re most likely to accept me into your life. My old master was also the same way, but she was the lineage of my great-grandma’s. You were somewhere from my grandpa’s…Does that make sense?”
“Not really,” Yeosang thumbed at the beauty spot below Wooyoung’s eye, the other’s eyelashes fluttering happily at the attention, “But I guess I’ll figure it out eventually…You’re saying I was predisposed to accepting you?”
“I mean, you could’ve rejected me…But it was unlikely. You have a familial heritage of shamans, several generations strong…It was highly unlikely that you would turn me away because the trust has been passed down. Isn’t that neat!”
Yeosang blinked a couple times. “I guess it’s interesting…How do you know all this?”
“We’re avid genealogists,” Wooyoung’s face chased Yeosang’s hand as the other pulled away slightly, Yeosang giving in and dropping his palm back down for Wooyoung to nuzzle into. “Very uncommon for any of us to not know anything about where we’re going.”
Yeosang allowed the topic to end there, the conversation fizzling off naturally as Wooyoung practically petted himself on Yeosang’s hand.
~*~
“Wooyoung, I’m home!” Yeosang called, kicking off his shoes, “I brought chicken for dinner.”
Over the month and a half that Wooyoung had stayed with him, Yeosang had learned quickly that the raccoon loved chicken, almost to a worrying point. Fried, baked, sauteed- he had no preference, just so long as he was allowed to eat his fill. It was endearing the way he would pick apart the meat and nibble on it in little bits, usually sitting awkwardly at the counter as he did so, in a way Yeosang was certain was uncomfortable. Occasionally he would babble about it, muttering about how he loved chicken and other unintelligible phrases when it was exceptionally good chicken. Yeosang hated how endearing he found it, the little flutters bouncing around his chest at the happy little noises the other would make.
As he entered the open space, he called again at the lack of an answer. A few seconds went by of silence before he heard shuffling and a muffled response back. Curiously, he shuffled through the apartment and into the kitchenette where he found the pantry door open, Wooyoung’s back, fluffy tail, and feet just barely visible around the slim door.
“Wooyoung…” Yeosang began cautiously, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Wooyoung responded, though half of it was muffled by whatever he had in his mouth at the moment, sounding jumbled and stuffy.
“Wooyoung…” Yeosang rounded the door to the other side of Wooyoung’s body. The raccoon looked up at him guilty, eyes wide and ears flat. His cheeks were unusually full, rounded obscenely. In his hands was the bag of marshmallows Yeosang had just bought the day prior for their dessert, though the bag was now mostly empty and sagged pathetically in Wooyoung’s gasp. “Wooyoung, you did not eat all the marshmallows.”
With a few wet smacks of his mouth and a thick looking gulp, Wooyoung swallowed the mouthful and defended himself with sugary breath, “I didn’t eat them all! Look! I saved you a few!”
“Wooyoung, you know better than to eat all that sugar…What if you got a stomachache.”
Wooyoung made the chattering noise Yeosang had begun to associate with negative emotions, like guilt or sadness. Whenever he frowned like that, it made it impossible for Yeosang to remain displeased for long. He looked too cute, all bristled and slumpy.
“Well…Let’s eat dinner. Hopefully you don't get sick later.” Yeosang acquiesced, dropping the bag of fried chicken on the table, “If you do, you’re going to have to sit in the bathroom overnight, I don’t want to clean up sick off of my bed…Alright?”
Wooyoung’s tail fluffed and he nodded, watching raptly as Yeosang began unpacking the chicken and side dishes. There was a familiar rustle of plastic from behind Yeosang that made the other perk up instantly, looking behind him to see the raccoon lifting another marshmallow to his mouth. “Wooyoung, don’t.”
Frozen, the two just stared at each other.
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang warned as the raccoon moved it towards his mouth minutely, “Don’t.”
There was a long moment of suspension where the two stood as Wooyoung seemed to weigh his options. Quickly, though, it seemed as though Wooyoung made his choice. In the blink of an eye, the raccoon popped the marshmallow in his mouth and took off towards the bedroom.
“Wooyoung!” Yeosang shouted as he chased the squealing raccoon, the other clearly enjoying himself. The bedroom door slammed shut and Yeosang was locked out, fiddling with the handle. “You’re such a naughy raccoon!”
There was another squeal of laughter and the doorknob jiggled slightly. Yeosang took it as a sign that he had unlocked the door and pushed it open carefully, finding in place of the boy, a fat raccoon flopped on the hardwood, staring up at him happily as it smacked on the remnants of the marshmallow.
Carefully, Yeosang bent over and scooped him up, cradling him like he would carry a toddler on his hip, shaking his head. Wooyoung had discovered quickly that if he turned into a full raccoon, Yeosang would give up on his chastising- though, Yeosang had also learned that Wooyoung kept a partially-raccoon form just for aesthetics and had frequently taken on a completely human appearance whenever he wished to run errands with his companion. He was an odd roommate.
Yeosang plopped him on the counter beside the half opened bag of chicken, continuing to set the stuff out for the two of them.
“I bring you home chicken and this is how you behave…I can’t believe you…So naughty.” Wooyoung chattered happily as he sprawled across the counter, watching delightedly at the spread before him. Wooyoung knew Yeosang wasn’t upset, not in any way that mattered. At this point, Yeosang truly doubted he even could be upset with the little magical being. He was just too adorable to fault. Yeosang passed him a chunk of fried chicken, a happy chirp being his grateful response as he readjusted to sit on his back feet to hold the chicken with his front hands. Yeosang pulled out his own piece, dunking it in his sauce before eating it on his own. He hoped Wooyoung wouldn’t have stomach pains later from all the food- that sounded awful to deal with overnight.
Wooyoung looked up at him with what Yeosang could almost qualify as a smile, his tail flicking.
Yeosang scoffed, “Bandit.”
His response was a happy chirp.