Archive of Our Own

Jaemin’s family is a tumultuous one. He’s never said it, but it’s not hard to tell when he receives birthday cards with nasty little curses attached, or when the only tomb he visits for Seongmyo is his grandma’s despite his father having passed too—or when he speaks about his brother in riddles, won’t tell them what sort of work he does even after two years in a relationship. Renjun doesn’t need to know what Jaemin’s brother does for a living to love Jaemin, and he doesn’t need to get involved in family politics when covens are notorious for holding grudges. It doesn’t bother him if Jaemin wants to leave his past behind—he loves Jaemin for who he is now. Jeno, who has a weaker grasp on magical affairs as it is, can be curious, but never pushes. They don’t need to know.

But it would be nice to get a heads up when it comes to old enemies, things that can still threaten Jaemin now. And by threatening Jaemin, threaten all three of them by association.

He can tell something is off as soon as Jeno walks into the apartment. Fairies have a very fine-tuned sense for danger after generations of feuds with regional gnomes and the constant threat of being giant food—issues not so relevant for modern urban fairies like Renjun, but a generational awareness still engrained in him. He knows when there is danger nearby, and his instincts scream for him to hide, fly away, or prepare his magic.

But when he turns away from the stove where his dandelion leaves are boiling down, it’s just Jeno there. The sense of danger doesn’t leave, but he can’t identify what it means, either. He presses carefully on the connection rune Jaemin had marked onto his wrist for their first anniversary—a signal for help. The possibilities are flicking through his mind—perhaps Jeno has been cursed, perhaps he’s been threatened. Perhaps this is a shapeshifter imitating him, intent on invading their home—it could be a mind-warp from a siren, or a malicious spirit attachment lingering around him.

Whatever the danger, he knows this must be something to do with him or Jaemin. Jeno is only human, and the otherworldly are rarely interested in humans—certainly not as prey, when someone with magic can do so much more, taste much richer to those who hunt for it. The danger is here not for Jeno, but through Jeno, to get to one of them.

Jeno looks up at him, and Renjun smiles and waves back, not wanting to alert the danger to the fact that it is known.

“Have a good day?” he asks, taking his pan off the boil.

“The best,” Jeno replies, languid, and Renjun suppresses the chills rising up his arms. This is definitely not Jeno. “Is Jaemin home?”

“He’ll be back in a minute,” he says, placing the leaves in a strainer and leaving them to drip through. He’s going to need Jaemin here for this. “I asked him to pick me up some toadstools from Minghao.”

Not-Jeno carefully rounds their kitchen island until he’s stood opposite Renjun, looking at him intently. “Ah,” he says, and Renjun grips the pan in hand. “You’re the fairy.”

“And you’re not my boyfriend,” he replies, to which Not-Jeno smiles, all teeth. “What do you want with him?”

“To return a favour,” he says, and there is a shift in the air. No noise, but he can feel the influence of magic—Jaemin has returned to the apartment.

Not-Jeno must feel it too, because in one quick movement he’s reaching out to grab Renjun—but Renjun is faster, throwing the pan and ducking out of his way. Jaemin appears from their bedroom, staff in hand, and charges the air with electricity—Renjun goes to join him, but Jeno is faster than usual. His arm is grabbed roughly and he’s thrown to the floor. Not-Jeno goes to stand over Renjun, their meat knife now glinting in his hand, and raises it, grinning—and is hit in the chest by a bolt of lightning.

Not-Jeno goes flying off him, and Renjun scrambles back until he’s standing, Jaemin right behind him. “Tell me your name,” Jaemin commands, furious. Not-Jeno is standing up like he hadn’t even felt the spell, but the veins in his neck are crawling black, and Renjun finally makes the connection. He’s never met a demon before, and he’d hoped to go his whole life without the pleasure of it.

The demon smiles. He still has the knife in hand. “I’m Jeno,” he says sweetly. The rest of the knives in their knife block are starting to rattle—as is their fridge, stovetop, light fixture and tins of food in the cupboards. Renjun only just has the time to throw up a protective barrier around himself and Jaemin before the knives come flying out of their block, bouncing off the shining wall around them.

“You’re in the wrong place,” Jaemin says. “My brother is the demon hunter, not me. If he has wronged you, settle it with him.”

“I am in the right place,” the demon says, twirling the knife deftly between his fingers. “I am returning the favour he paid me. A brother for a brother.” He points the knife in Renjun’s direction. “I wasn’t aware you kept a fairy as well as a human. Aren’t there too many weaknesses around you?”

He’s advancing on them casually until he’s stood right in front of the barrier. Renjun can sense Jaemin charging a spell, is only waiting on his signal to drop the barrier and let the spell out—the demon must know this too.

“You’re one to talk about weakness,” Jaemin says. “No nest, no family, barging into a magical home with nothing but a knife—how long will a vengeful demon like you last out here?”

“Long enough to see you die, and kill your pets with you,” the demon says, and Renjun releases the barrier—Jaemin’s spell is thrumming in the air now, and the demon backs up quickly away from them as a blast of light spreads out at their feet. When the light fades, a devil’s trap has been printed onto their floorboards, the centre of it under Jaemin, Jeno standing right outside it.

“If you’ve come for me,” Jaemin says, opening his arms wide and throwing his staff away with it. Renjun backs up slowly, eyes wide on Jaemin. “Come and get me.”

The demon must see opportunity, because his metallic influence engorges all at once—their fridge tips over on its own, the TV falling off the stand and dragging along the floor towards them. Picture frames fly overhead, very narrowly missing Jaemin’s head as he ducks. Renjun had learned as a child that demon magic is closer to chaos than real magic—now he feels it is closer to destruction.

Their vase filled with spring lillies comes crashing into his side, knocking him over. His hand must land outside of the devil’s trap, because the next thing he knows he’s being dragged out of it and thrown into the wall. His head rings with the pain of it, but he has enough awareness to direct his magic around himself—the next time the demon tries to touch him, he rips his hand away. Raw magic is unique, and can’t be taken or touched by another—it’s a risk to expose it like this, but one he’s willing to take against a demon.

The demon only lifts the knife instead, and grins when his arm is caught—Jaemin has a firm hold on him from behind, but the demon pushes back until Jaemin falls to the floor. Renjun uncurls to summon the knife from him so it’s in his own hand instead, but the demon pays him no mind—simply kneels over Jaemin, takes his head in both hands, and slams it back into the floor.

Renjun summons again, but this time he summons Jeno’s body towards him, pulling him away from Jaemin. The demon stumbles backwards, and swings his arm in retaliation—their computer comes crashing into Renjun from the back, and he cries out, a sharp pain spiking up his spine. The demon comes to loom over him, a new knife in hand, but turns at the last minute to meet Jaemin and swipe at him. He must catch him by surprise, because Jaemin shouts too—when the demon moves, Renjun can see it, a red wound dripping across Jaemin’s shirt. Still, Jaemin follows through with his original intent—gripping both of the demon’s arms, he has enough leverage to kick him backwards. He only goes a few steps back, but that’s all it takes to trap him in the edge of the devil’s circle, meeting the immovable force that keeps him there.

The computer is pushed away from Renjun’s leg—he hadn’t even realised he was trapped under it—and then Jaemin is there, touching his face. He comes away with a little shimmering blood, but Renjun is more concerned about the gash across Jaemin’s shoulder and chest, seeping his white shirt red.

“I’m okay, it’s superficial,” he tells Renjun. “We have to exorcise the demon first. I have a spell for that.”

The demon starts laughing inside his circle. “You can’t exorcise me.”

“Watch me,” Jaemin says, walking around the circle to their bookcase, picking up his discarded staff while there. He summons his thick spellbook from the shelf, the one with the most archaic tricks.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” the demon says, inspecting the blade of his knife. “Your brother should’ve taught you better.”

“Do you need anything from me?” Renjun asks Jaemin, kneeling beside the book as Jaemin flicks through the pages.

“Humans are particularly weak vessels for demons, and they rarely survive an exorcism,” Jaemin murmurs to him. “That’s what the demon is talking about. I need you to keep Jeno tethered to his body while I do this. Use our runes, or—”

“These runes?” the demon asks, lifting Jeno’s shirt to reveal the skin of his side—marred and burned where his protective runes lay, destroying the patterns in his skin. “The ones that should have protected him from me in the first place?”

Jaemin’s fury threatens to set something alight with how palpable it is, but he doesn’t speak to the demon. “All you need to do is hold onto him, Renjun, I’ll do the rest. Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” he says, sitting up and propping himself against their couch. “He’s going to find it hard, though.”

“As long as he’ll be alive,” Jaemin says grimly, and sweeps aside some of the rubble on the floor to begin chalking the exorcism spell into the floorboards.

“You’re still not getting it,” the demon says, voice low and mocking. “You and your spells—they take too long. If you expel me, I’m taking the pet. It takes minutes to perform magic, and seconds to kill a human. Better to let me go now—I’ll kill your brother instead, promise.”

He raises the knife until the blade just kisses his neck. Jaemin flicks his staff, bindings appearing to latch the demon’s wrists down to the floor. He begins to strain against them, grinning, the knife twisting unnaturally in an attempt to cut through them. Renjun tries to summon the knife from him, but it’s the only thing in the demon’s dominion, now—there’s no way he’s releasing it. He laughs at him for it, and the sound is so wrong, so unnatural in Jeno’s voice it makes him shiver.

Renjun does his best to tune him out instead, raising his hand to the back of his neck until he finds the mind rune tattooed there. It’s a new one, and one he’s been hesitant to try out. Now he doesn’t have much of a choice.

Jeno’s mind is more difficult to latch onto than he’d anticipated. Jaemin’s is there, guarded by his own wards, and so is the demon’s, suffocating and murky. But Jeno’s is buried, and it takes some digging to connect with it—it’s muted, almost like he’s asleep.

Still, he manages to lock on, wrapping his magic around his mind, tethering it to his body and soul. This won’t mean anything if the demon destroys Jeno’s body in the exorcism, but he can only trust Jaemin will take care of that. He does his best here and now—covering him like a blanket, waiting for the explosion to go off.

He’s not present enough to realise when Jaemin goes through with the spell, but he feels the way it rocks Jeno’s mind—trying to fling him out along with the suffocating presence of the demon, forced away from its host. He clings on hard, not letting any of Jeno slip through—and it strains him, and petrifies him, because he can’t get this wrong—but it’s all over in seconds. The demon has disappeared, and Jeno’s mind can fit back into its space again. As it realigns, he starts to come back to himself, show signs of life. Renjun releases his hold, bit by bit, until he’s sure Jeno is there, safely in place. Then he fits back into his own mind, and comes back to reality.

Jaemin is kneeling over Jeno, calling Renjun’s name, who can only blearily crawl over into the devil’s circle with him. Jaemin is holding one of their kitchen towels to a gash that runs up Jeno’s bicep and forearm, and Jeno is barely stirring, eyebrows furrowed.

“Heal him,” Jaemin says, urging Renjun towards them. He’s shaking, his voice on the verge of collapse. “Please, Renjun, with anything you have left.”

“Paint him some new runes,” Renjun orders, moving aside the towel and laying both hands over Jeno’s arm, warm blood immediately seeping between his fingers. The exhaustion of the mind trip along with the persistent pain of his personal injuries means he won’t be able to do this alone. “He’s hanging on.”

Jaemin lifts his staff to summon his dew ink and brushes. Renjun focuses hard on Jeno’s arm rather than the blurry edges of his vision—he needs to close the long wound, but he’s bleeding too much.

“Stagnation first,” Renjun tells him when Jaemin takes Jeno’s other arm, ink ready. “He can’t lose any more blood.”

Jaemin carefully paints on the neo rune, followed by the ancient and more powerful ones for health, protection and strength. It takes him longer still to channel Jaemin’s magic with his own, coaxing the skin into stitching up, but it slowly, slowly gets there. Jeno finally comes to as his skin closes, leaving a long, raised white scar up his left arm. He looks up at Renjun, brow furrowed, and Renjun can’t muster up the energy to say anything to him. Then he looks over at Jaemin, who is already watching him, half a smile on his face.

“You’re okay now,” Jaemin tells him. “We’ve got you.”

“You—” he chokes on the word, then points at Jaemin’s chest with his free hand. His shirt is drenched red by now, his chest wound bleeding sluggishly this whole time.

“He’s right,” Renjun says, tentatively releasing Jeno’s arm. “You next.”

“Not by you,” Jaemin says, and perhaps he’s right. Renjun can barely muster the energy to crawl over to him. “I’ll manage it.”

Renjun acquiesces, and lays down beside Jeno, who is still awake but unspeaking, staring at the ceiling and breathing slowly. “Okay,” he says, content just to lie down for a little while. “After that, I need a word with your brother.”

-

There are certain repercussions to being possessed by a demon. The first has to be their immediate injuries, that are tended to in exhausted silence, the three of them sat on the living room floor surrounded by blood and a devil’s circle and the wreckage of their apartment.

The second is that Jeno doesn’t want to speak, and doesn’t want to be touched.

After his wound is tended to and the new temporary runes have been painted on, while Renjun and Jaemin work on their own injuries, he lies still. When he starts to cry silently, Renjun moves in to hug him, only to have Jeno flinch away so violently it shocks them all. He shakily pulls himself up on his hands, shuffling further and further away from them until he’s sat up against the kitchen counter.

“Jeno,” Jaemin says, but Jeno only shakes his head, covering his face with his hands, breathing picking up.

“Jaem,” Renjun says. He would sit up, but he’s not sure he can, or wants to, or if it would even help anything. “I was serious about your brother. We need the help.”

Jaemin swallows and nods, taking a long look at Jeno before reaching out for his abandoned chalk. One hand clutches the bloodied shirt on his chest, and the other shakily draws a summoning circle.

When he arrives, Doyoung brings Taeyong with him. Jaemin has never had to summon his brother as long as Renjun has known him, and Renjun has only had the pleasure of meeting Doyoung once. He appreciates now that he came without question, bringing backup with him.

“Jaemin?” he says sharply, kneeling down beside him and putting his hands over Jaemin’s wound. “What happened here?”

“Demon,” Jaemin says, sitting back and letting Doyoung cast over his chest, over his head, over the blood on his hands. Renjun is so focused on watching Doyoung work on Jaemin’s injuries that he takes too long to notice Taeyong kneeling beside him too, routing around in his bag for something.

“Here,” he says, handing Renjun a little vial of yellow liquid. “This will help you feel better. Are you hurt anywhere?”

He takes it with blood-slicked hands, shaking, and Taeyong holds him steady and takes the cork out for him. “Just banged up,” he murmurs, because beyond a quick vitality potion the witches won’t be able to help him with his own injuries. He’ll have to focus his own magic into healing those, and he needs a long nap before he’s at all up to that. “Do you have something for Jeno?”

They both look over at him, curled up as small as he can get against the counter. He’s quivering as he watches Doyoung and Taeyong over the tips of his fingers.

“Jeno,” he says very softly as Taeyong rustles around in his pouch again. “This is Doyoung, Jaemin’s brother. This is Taeyong, another member of his coven. They’re here to help, I promise.”

Jeno doesn’t look at him, eyes fixed on Taeyong, who is slightly closer to him than Doyoung is. But Doyoung is watching him more closely, with Jaemin’s wound now stemmed, shirt discarded and new bandages covering the gash. “It was Jeno? He survived a possession?”

“We made sure there wasn’t an alternative,” Jaemin says, “even if Renjun won’t be able to magick much more than chopsticks for the next week because of it. Hyung—how did this happen? How did they find us?”

“I’m so sorry,” Doyoung says, wrapping his arms around Jaemin tenderly. “There was a bad incident a few weeks ago—I got possessed on the job. It must’ve been able to recall some of my personal knowledge after it left me. Older demons are good at doing that.” His face twists, unhappy. “I should’ve known at the time, when it chose to leave me without needing the exorcism. I should’ve known. I’m sorry, I would’ve warned you if I had any idea it might come here.”

Taeyong’s potion is starting to work on him now, feeling returning to his fingers, the pain in his side and his calf and the back of his head ebbing away into a numbed ache. Taeyong hands him another vial, pink this time, and gestures towards Jeno.

“Can I come and give this to you, Jeno?” Renjun says again. “You’re in a state, love. Let me help you.”

Jeno shakes his head, and twitches away when Renjun moves slightly. It makes him feel gutted out—he’s not sure how he can possibly help Jeno if he can’t even approach him.

Doyoung carefully presses his hand to the floor of their apartment, wand cupped in his palm. Renjun feels the magic spread out under the floorboards, heading for Jeno—and while humans can’t usually sense that sort of thing, Jeno’s all wired up and on edge, fresh off an encounter where something foreign had invaded his body and hurt him. Renjun has about two seconds to anticipate it, but it’s a surprise to the rest of them when he starts screaming.

“You two, back up,” he says sharply to Taeyong and Doyoung, who immediately shuffle further behind Jaemin, Doyoung’s magic retracting with him. Jeno has curled up into his side now, hands over his head, trembling all over.

Renjun closes his eyes, and reaches back to press on his mind rune again. Jeno’s mind is fraught, but he recognises Renjun right away, and melts into his mental touch. It helps that the runes are connected to Jaemin’s ability—Renjun’s touch, Jaemin’s magic, Jeno’s mind. The three of them make a complete whole, and the familiarity relaxes Jeno into a calmer state. They rest there together, the lightness of the non-physical state something calming.

“Renjun,” someone is saying, and he blinks himself awake, struggling against the calming fog of their mind link. He wants to fall into the abyss with Jeno, sleep it off too, but Jaemin is in front of him, shaking him slightly. “You alright?”

“I really need to recharge,” he mumbles, head lolling slightly when he tries to look around. “Jeno does, too.”

“I’ll get him into bed,” Taeyong says. He waves his hands, adorned in twinkling rings, and the blood disappears from Jeno’s arm and Renjun’s hands. He then goes to lift Jeno, completely lax against him, and carry him into their bedroom.

“You’d better sleep too, Renjun,” Doyoung agrees. “Better to do so on your own terms than to pass out here.”

“I will. Thank you for your help.” He can’t help but be curt, knowing it was Doyoung’s work that put them in this position in the first place, but he really has helped them. He’s not sure the three of them would’ve been up to fixing each other if left alone.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Doyoung says sincerely. “Before we go, Jaemin, I’m going to give you a list of symptoms to look out for.”

“Symptoms?”

“Aftereffects of a possession,” Doyoung says, picking up a memo pad from the floor along with a pen. As an afterthought, he waves his wand, and their TV starts to pick itself back up, glass reverting into the screen—the computer drags back across the floor, and the fridge rights itself too. Even the knives make a careful path through the air, rounding their way back into the kitchen. “Everyone experiences one or two. I imagine a human like Jeno, after an experience like that… may experience most.”

“Isn’t there something we can do to treat that? Something I can give him?”

Doyoung looks up at him without pausing in his scribbling. “This isn’t something that can be magicked away, like physical hurt. Demonic possession is a traumatising, violating experience. You’re going to have to give him time and care.”

Renjun swallows, fighting back his first tears of the night. The gravity of what just happened to them hasn’t really hit him yet, but as the adrenaline fades away the fear is starting to settle in. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room. Give him space.”

Jaemin takes the list from Doyoung, and looks over at Renjun. The regret in his eyes is endless—they’ll need to talk about this, but he can’t physically think about that right now. He needs to sleep. “Okay.”

Taeyong appears from their bedroom and takes Renjun’s arm in support, helps him limp his way into the guest bedroom. He drops into the bed lopsided, and falls asleep almost instantly.

-

When he wakes up, it’s been over twenty-four hours since he’d fought a demon. He’s nowhere near up to full capacity, but at least he can feel his magic in his fingertips again. He has enough in him to function.

And function he must. The apartment is silent—a sign that things still need to be fixed.

He slides out of the bed just as silently, stepping out into the hallway and heading over to their bedroom door first. He knocks gently, then swings the door open without stepping inside.

Jeno is in there, lying under the covers, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. He eyes Renjun over the top of the sheets, but is able to blink at him this time—it’s not the same absolute fear as yesterday.

“Hey,” he says. “Can I come in?”

Jeno stares at him, then shakes his head very slightly.

He pauses. “Do you know who I am?”

Jeno nods, less slight.

“Do you know who you are?”

Jeno stills, eyes flicking over his face. He doesn’t move.

“You are Lee Jeno. You remember? You’re my boyfriend, and you’re safe. We’re going to protect you. You are your own mind, body and soul. You are your own thoughts. You have your own decisions. No one’s going to take that from you again. We’re going to make sure of it. You don’t need to be afraid. Do you understand me?”

A very slow, slight downturn of the head. Could be a nod, could be burrowing further down into the sheets.

“I’m going to make you something to eat. You can come out when you’re ready, okay? Take your time.”

Jeno doesn’t move again, so Renjun turns to leave, swallowing around nothing. Upon facing their living room he can see Jaemin watching him from the couch, sat up amongst a circle of blankets and cushions. He must’ve slept out here, not wanting to disturb either of them, but it only gives Renjun more feeling of wrongness—they’ve never all slept apart in the apartment before.

“He slept as long as you did,” Jaemin says. “I was starting to get worried.”

“He’s awake now, and aware. How about you?”

Jaemin pushes down his shirt to show the faint wound mark across his chest. There’s no bandage anymore, magic done its work. “Good as new.”

“And your mind?” he asks, coming to sit beside him, sinking into the cushions. He places a hand to Jaemin’s forehead, brushing aside the hair there gently. “This will take a toll on all of us.”

Jaemin closes his eyes. “I will never be able to forgive myself for hurting him. Both of you. It was one of my worst fears that something like this would happen, and I still didn’t do enough to stop it.”

“You have nothing to forgive. It wasn’t your fault,” Renjun says. He touches Jaemin’s forehead with the tips of his fingers, and presses on his mind rune with his other hand, sending along some of this empathy and genuine belief that Jaemin is not at fault. It can never replace Jaemin’s own thoughts and convictions, but it helps to share his own. “But why did you never tell us about this?”

“Didn’t want to scare you too. I thought speaking it would make it real.”

“I didn’t realise he was a demon until you arrived. If you hadn’t come in time, that information could’ve made a big difference to me. I wish you would’ve told me.”

Jaemin bows his head. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I was just afraid.”

Renjun strokes his hair. “It’s already done. Nothing we can do about the past. We do need you now, though. The aftermath is what we’re responsible for, and what we won’t be forgiven for if we don’t do all we can to help Jeno.”

Jaemin leans in to rest his head on Renjun’s shoulder, hiding his face there. Renjun strokes the hair on the back of his head. “And you? What do you need?”

“I just need you by my side,” he says, kissing the crook of his neck. “That’s all I’m asking. Don’t retreat into yourself now.”

After a long minute, Jaemin raises his head, glassy-eyed. “You’re too good. Have I ever told you that?”

Renjun kisses him. “Doesn’t hurt to hear it. I’ve never had a regret about you, Jaemin. Jeno neither.”

Jaemin strokes a hand along the curve of his shoulder. “We’re very lucky for it.”

“You’re just right for me. Don’t doubt yourself.” He stands from the sofa, leaving Jaemin with a lingering touch to the back of his hand. “I’m going to make stew. Have you eaten?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“I’ll make enough for us all, then, and you can take some in for him. Leave it by the door, but tell him he can eat with us if he wants to. We need to let him make his own decisions, now.”

“That’s what Doyoung said. We need to encourage him to feel autonomous again.” Jaemin nibbles on the skin of his thumb, watching Renjun over the kitchen island as he searches for the right equipment and ingredients. He would usually summon them to him, but he’s being careful with conserving magic, though everything feels twice as tiring to do by hand. “I think you should come with me to the door, though.”

“Why?”

“I need to show you the list of symptoms Doyoung gave me. One of them is… impulsive action. Lingering intent. Jeno might still feel compelled to go through with some of the demon’s wants.”

Renjun stops, eyeing him up sharply. “Why?”

“They shared a mind and body, we don’t know for how long. At least half an hour if the demon took Jeno straight from work. It might be hard for him to pick apart himself from his possession for a while. Things might be left behind, on an instinctual level.”

Renjun rests his hands on the counter. “You’re saying Jeno might still try to kill us?”

Jaemin nods, grim. “In a worst case scenario, yes. And if that happens, we shouldn’t try to use magic to stop him. He’s going to react badly to something entering his body without his consent.”

“But Doyoung did that to him yesterday?”

“He thought we may not have exorcised the demon fully, from the way Jeno was acting. The spell was to confirm that we did.” Jaemin sighs. “Food, too. He’s going to struggle putting anything new inside him, Doyoung said. Hopefully not for too long.”

“He’s already gone a day without food or water. We can’t let it go on much longer.”

Jaemin unfurls something in his palm. It’s the pink vial Taeyong had handed him yesterday that he hadn’t been able to give to Jeno. “If we can convince him to take this, it’ll keep him going for a while. I think you should be the one to offer it to him. He must trust you the most, right now.”

“If at all,” he sighs, lining up the vegetables. When he reaches for the knife block, he hesitates, and has to pull out one of the smaller ones.

He goes to offer Jeno the vial when the stew is simmering over the heat, gently knocking again and placing it down in front of the door. He and Jaemin aren’t optimistic he’ll eat the stew, but he may take the vial if given two options. “This is for you. It’ll help you feel better, okay? You must be hungry, huh?”

Jeno is sat up against the headboard now, but he doesn’t move when Renjun peeks his head around the doorway, watching his movements carefully.

“It won’t be filling, but it’ll be enough. I’ve had one too, so you know. Tried and tested. It works. I’m going to get Jaemin to bring you the proper food in a minute, too.”

Jeno doesn’t respond but to glance down at the vial, so he just waves and carefully closes the door again. He resists the urge to knock his head against it, disheartened.

He plates up three bowls, places his own and Jaemin’s on the table, then waits behind the bedroom door as Jaemin goes in with Jeno’s portion. He doesn’t hear a sound from inside the room when Jaemin greets him, places the bowl down on the drawers closest to the door, and lingers there for a moment. “We’re eating just out here. Let us know if you need anything.” He clicks the door shut again without incident.

“Was Taeyong’s potion still there?” he asks quietly as they sit opposite each other.

“Hadn’t been touched.”

Jaemin finishes the stew quickly—having a mostly human biology, he’s more reliant on food than Renjun is, and hasn’t eaten in too long either. It makes him worry what they’re going to have to do if Jeno won’t eat by tomorrow morning. “We should call in to work, all of us. Human workplaces have policies on magical maladies, right?”

“If his workplace won’t give him time off on demonic possession grounds, he should leave,” Jaemin grumbles. “Or I’ll curse them.”

“I’ll do the calling, then.”

Jeno’s manager comes across as extremely sympathetic on the phone, asking a few too many questions about Jeno’s state that he tries not to get annoyed about. Humans tend to have a fascination for these sorts of things—Jeno is already an unwilling zoo attraction at his workplace, he’s heard, as the human receptionist for a non-magical veterinary clinic with two otherworldly boyfriends.

After that, he retreats to the bathroom to wash up and channel his magic into healing his remaining bumps and bruises. When he comes out, the devil’s circle has disappeared from their floor, and he doesn’t ask Jaemin about it. They’re putting the past behind them.

They spend the evening together in relatively comfortable quiet, as Jaemin focuses on tracing some new runes, a common calming pastime for him when stressed. Renjun sends a dove to his brother to let him know the news and ask if he has any advice—there was an incident a few years ago where his boyfriend also underwent a brief spirit possession. Not quite as malicious as your average demon, but something uncomfortable regardless.

“Shall we sleep in the spare room together tonight?” he asks, and Jaemin breaks his concentration, looking up at him uncertainly.

“I think at least one of us should sleep out here. I need to show you this list—one of the symptoms is nightmares, sleepwalking. We need to be somewhere we can keep an eye on him.”

He sighs, resting his head in his hand. “Right. If he might sleepwalk out of the bedroom, we should warn him.”

“That’ll scare him more.”

“It would be worse for him to wake up doing something he didn’t choose to do, with no idea why he’s there. Again.”

Jaemin looks at him, and Renjun looks back. He hates this. “Okay. Maybe just let him know we’re out here?”

He goes to the bedroom door one last time that day, knocks, and opens it to find the cold stew by the doorway still. The vial is nowhere to be seen, but Jeno is still sat up in the bed, obviously clutching something in his palm. “Hey. We’re going to bed now. We’re going to sleep out here, so if you have any issues in the night, just call for us, okay? If you need anything, you can ask us, or just come and get it. Whatever you want. If you have any nightmares, come and find me. Doyoung said sleepwalking can happen too, so—”

Jeno curls away as soon as he mentions Doyoung’s name, free fist clenching. He buries his head down, blocking one ear with his pillow and bringing his arm up to cover the other. He looks like a child afraid of an oncoming storm.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, not sure if Jeno can hear him. He hovers at the doorway for a moment, anxious to help—but he’s the one causing Jeno stress right now. “Goodnight, Jeno.”

He’s so, so tempted to cast a little magic, coax him into a more relaxed sleep, but he knows it would do more harm than good. Jeno has long since been happy to accept any magic they want to use around or on him, but things have changed now. It will take time for him to get back to that place again.

He sits beside Jaemin on the sofa, who’d been watching him intently. He leans in, wrapping an arm around Renjun’s waist, and Renjun leans into him.

“I feel useless,” he says into Jaemin’s shoulder.

“You saved us all,” Jaemin responds. “You still are saving us. You’re so far from useless, my love.”

-

He wakes up in the night to the sound of a door creaking open. He’s a much lighter sleeper than either of the other two—another fairy trait—but he can feel Jaemin stirring too from where they’d been curled into each other on the couch. He sits up very slowly so not as to alarm Jeno if he is awake. It’s hard to tell in the shadows of the room, but he doesn’t seem to be—he’s walking with a lot more ease than Renjun would expect otherwise.

“Jeno,” he whispers, and it carries over the room, but Jeno doesn’t show any sign of hearing him. He stands, carefully, and gestures for Jaemin to stay where he’s laid out on the couch.

Sleepwalking is a very human trait, something he hadn’t heard of before meeting Jeno. Residual magic of the subconscious, his brother had once called it. No other being is so influenced by the subconscious ideas that hide in their brain. Jeno isn’t even a sleepwalker by nature, and doesn’t often remember dreams if he has them. It’s how he knows this is a possession symptom, and he needs to be careful.

“Jeno,” he says again, a little louder, watching as Jeno walks casually into the kitchen. He reaches out with his magic, carefully skirting it around Jeno, to touch the knife block, the kettle, the pan left out on the side, the bowls in the sink. Anything grab-worthy skirts carefully out of Jeno’s reach, hovering away.

He’s rewarded when Jeno reaches for the same meat knife the demon had originally reached for, and his palm goes flat onto the sideboard instead. He comes back dragging the glass chopping board from the side, sitting awkwardly in his palm—then he turns back and throws it right at Renjun.

He drops to the floor just in time—Jaemin casts a spell to vaporise it, but misses without his staff—and the glass board soars overhead, smashing into the wall behind him. The items he had been holding up with magic drop at the same time he does, and bowls smash into the sink, knives clatter to the floor, the pan rolling along the kitchen tiles.

No one moves for a moment, and then someone turns the lights on—presumably Jaemin, as Renjun is hidden in a squat with his arms over his head and Jeno is frozen still in front of him, eyes now open, mouth round. He looks over when Jaemin stands from the couch, watching Jeno carefully, and then looks back down at Renjun.

“Renjun? You okay?” Jaemin asks.

“Yup.” He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m fine. Jeno?”

Jeno blinks a few times. “What happened?”

“You were sleep walking,” he says, standing in one smooth, slow motion, willing himself not to look at the shattered board behind him. “Are you okay?”

“Sleep—” he says, looking around the room. “Why?”

“As a side-effect, love,” Jaemin says. “But you’re awake now.”

Jeno blinks again. “Side—side-effect? Where… where am I?”

He and Jaemin look at each other. Here’s another symptom they didn’t expect to see so soon— selective amnesia, bouts of dissociation. “You’re at home,” Renjun says. “Do you know who we are?”

“Y-yes,” Jeno says, but he doesn’t sound sure. “Renjun and… and… Jaem—Jaemin?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jaemin says, voice endlessly gentle. “Do you want to come back to bed?”

Jeno plays with his fingers nervously. “Will I sleepwalk again?”

“Maybe,” Jaemin replies, placating. “But we’ll be here to wake you if you do, okay?”

Jeno looks down around him. One of the bowls smashed right by his feet, and Renjun focuses some magic into the little pieces, sweeping them away from Jeno’s bare skin. “Did I make the mess?”

“Not your fault,” Jaemin says, gesturing to Jeno, who starts to walk as if compelled, not really sure why or where he’s going. “We’ll clean it.”

“I can help,” Jeno says, but Renjun shakes his head as he passes.

“We’ve got you,” he says, and watches as Jaemin leads him back into the bedroom. Only when the door is closed does he work on picking up the other dropped objects, sweeping up pieces of the glass board too. It’s too broken to be worth fixing up, but that’s hardly their biggest concern right now.

By the time he’s righted the kitchen and waited for his hands to stop shaking, he decides to peek into the bedroom, check on Jaemin who never returned out of it. Jeno is lying on his side, seemingly asleep again, with Jaemin laid opposite him, just watching.

“He alright?”

Jaemin lifts his head. “He asked me to stay, but I think it’ll upset him if I’m here next time he wakes up. Do you want to swap with me?”

“You’re planning on sleeping alone?”

“I can handle it.” The look on his face says otherwise. “I’m focused on him right now.”

“It doesn’t mean you should neglect yourself.”

“I would never,” Jaemin whispers, and Renjun comes to sit in front of him, and leans in to hug him. Jaemin hugs him back, one-handed, burying his nose into Renjun’s neck.

“I mean it. Don’t spend the whole night painting runes. Rest. We’ll make it work in the morning.”

“Of course.”

Renjun slides a hand down Jaemin’s arm as he settles down. They switch, and Renjun comes to lie down in a perfect mimic of Jaemin’s previous position. “Goodnight,” he whispers, relaxing into the bed. It feels like an age since he’s been in his own bed, though it’s only been two nights.

“Goodnight,” Jaemin says at the door. Renjun watches Jeno breathe for a while, then falls asleep.

-

Renjun wakes up the next morning when the warmth he’s pressed up against suddenly moves away. He blearily lifts his head to see Jeno scrambling away from him, hazy, dragging the bedsheets with him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, pushing himself up on his palms. “It’s just me. I’m sorry, you asked for someone to stay with you last night.”

Jeno’s panicking, chest heaving quickly, hands clenching the sheets. “Remember,” he mumbles.

“You remember?” Renjun says, softly. “You want me to leave, baby, or shall we wait until you’re calmer?”

Jeno shakes his head, and he’s not sure which it’s an answer to, so he waits quietly. After a few minutes, his breathing evens out a little, and he even raises his head to look over at Renjun.

Renjun smiles at him. “You alright?”

“I remember,” he whispers again. “Last night.”

Renjun nods. “Jaemin would’ve stayed, but he thought it might’ve upset you this morning. He’s in the living room if you want to see him.”

Jeno shakes his head. “Can’t. I’ll hurt you again.”

Something in his chest cracks. “No you won’t. You’ve never hurt us.”

“Yes, I have.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“But I remember it like it was me.” Jeno is still whispering through the tense silence of the bedroom. “How can I be sure it wasn’t me?”

“It wasn’t,” Renjun says, with conviction. “You didn’t have control of your actions then, but you do now. That is the difference. You would never hurt me or Jaemin with intent. You don’t want to now, do you?”

“No,” he says quickly, and Renjun reaches a hand over the sheets before remembering he shouldn’t touch.

“Of course you don’t. Because that’s who you are. We’re not afraid of you, Jeno. You’re the only one afraid of you.”

Jeno’s fingers jerk. “I can’t trust my actions will match my intentions.”

“That’s what we’re going to help you with. Do you trust us?”

“I only don’t trust myself.”

“Then trust us with yourself. We’ve got you.”

Jeno grips his hands together and nods meekly. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all. Can I hug you?”

Jeno swallows, fingers twitching again. He shakes his head.

“Okay,” he says, very softly. “You want breakfast? I’ll make you fairy bread?”

He nods at that, bringing his arms up to wrap around himself. On cue, his stomach grumbles. “Please.”

“I got you.” He blows Jeno a kiss, then scoots off the bed. “Can I send Jaemin back with it? He’d like to see you.”

Jeno hesitates longer, ducking his head a little more. Then he nods. “Ask him not to come too close.”

“Okay.” He gives him a little wave, and leaves the bedroom.

Jaemin is unsurprisingly awake. Renjun has no way to be sure if he’s slept at all, but he looks alert enough when he meets Renjun’s eyes across the room.

“No yelling?” he says. “Progress?”

“Progress,” he breathes. “We even had a conversation, much more aware. He’ll have bread.”

“Thank the Gods,” Jaemin breathes. “With any luck, last night will be the worst of it.”

“He’s happy for you to take it in,” Renjun says, already rooting through their cupboard for the bread. Fairy bread is little more than regular bread with sugar sprinkled over it, but Jeno doesn’t need to know that. “Just leave it by the door again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he says, plating up four slices and sliding it over to Jaemin. “Bring back the old stew while you’re there. We should make something else he likes today, the bread will be nowhere near enough.”

“I’ll do some jjajangmyeon later,” Jaemin promises, taking the plate in both hands. “You sure he’s up for this?”

“Trust him,” Renjun says, ushering Jaemin back in the direction of the bedroom.

He pretends not to, but he watches carefully as Jaemin opens the door, placing down the plate and speaking to Jeno in a low voice. He’s distracted by a tapping at the window—his dove has returned with a letter from Chenle. When he looks back, Jaemin is closing the door again.

“He’s okay, isn’t he? He’s doing better today.”

“He is,” Jaemin breathes, like he barely dare admit it either. “He actually nodded at me.”

“Small blessings,” he says, going over to the dove and letting her in. He unties the letter from her leg, and she immediately flies over to start pecking at the open packet of sugar.

He scans the letter, and lowers it to the table with a sigh. “Chenle’s response is useless. He just says it got better with time, when Jisung got more confident he’d moved on from the spirit.”

“It’s what Doyoung said too,” Jaemin remarks, sat quietly at their dining room table. “Time and care.”

“We can do that.”

“We can,” Jaemin says, and he sounds hopeful. “We will.”

-

Jeno consciously accepts Renjun back into the bed that night, Jaemin choosing to stay in the living room again. Jeno doesn’t want to sleep touching Renjun, and Renjun can feel him tensed up in the bed for a large part of the night, leading to neither of them getting much sleep. But he appreciates the effort. He can tell Jeno is trying.

They lie in for a while the next morning, and when they eventually get up Renjun suggests they take a short walk together. That makes Jeno balk, shaking his head firmly.

“No.”

“Okay,” he says. “That’s fine. Maybe we’ll just start with leaving the bedroom first. You want to come watch a movie with us?”

By some miracle, Jeno works up the courage to come out of the bedroom of his own accord by the afternoon. He showers, then shuffles over to sit in the solitary armchair, knees tucked up to his chest and hands balled into his front. He watches them as they walk around the room, and doesn’t speak much. But he’s there.

At one point when Jaemin gets up to go to the toilet, Jeno starts leaning forward in his seat towards Renjun. He’s still sitting on the other side of the room from him, but it’s easy to tell he has something he wants to say.

“You okay?” Renjun asks him, and Jeno twitches slightly.

“Mm,” he says. “Should I sleep in the… spare room tonight?”

“Why would you do that?”

Jeno plays with his fingers. “Don’t want to keep you out of your bed.”

“It’s your bed too. We’re not mad at you for sleeping in it, babe. Are you happy to have me come sleep with you again tonight? It was okay last night, right?”

Jeno nods hesitantly. “But… but not…”

“Not Jaemin?”

Jeno deflates with another nod. “Not yet.”

“That’s okay. Whenever you’re ready. Doyoung said this is normal, you know? That you might feel—”

“Can we not talk about him?”

He realises Jeno’s hands are flexing hard over his knees. “Sure. Sorry.”

Jaemin emerges from the bathroom, and as soon as he’s a safe distance away from Jeno, Jeno stands and leaves back to the bedroom.

Jaemin looks back at where he’d left. “Something happen?”

“Try not to mention your brother’s name for a while,” he murmurs, patting Jaemin’s leg. “I think I upset him.”

“It’s just a symptom. Doyoung was the one the demon truly hated, after all.”

“He said I could go and sleep in there again, tonight. I’m really trying not to divide the two of you any more, Jaemin—”

“It’s fine,” Jaemin says, smiling and shaking his head. “You’re doing a great job. Sorry that you have to bridge us like this right now.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Renjun says, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re doing well too. Don’t give in, will you?”

“Never,” Jaemin replies, kissing him back. “Goodnight, my love.”

He slides into the bed beside Jeno, who doesn’t move, doesn’t greet him. They both pretend Jeno is asleep for a long time, and then he really does fall asleep. The bed still feels too big for the two of them, but it’s progress. Slow progress.

-

He wakes up the next day to the sound of Jeno getting out of the bed, deliberately trying to be quiet so as not to wake him up. It’s sweet, so he pretends to stay asleep a little longer, assuming Jeno is getting up to change his clothes. There’s a gentle rustle of clothes changing for a few minutes, and he waits for Jeno to come back to bed. When he hears the bedroom door open and close, he sits up, more wary. This could be a good sign or a bad sign.

When he hears Jaemin’s voice chime in question from the living room, and Jeno’s honest response, he follows Jeno out of the room.

“No, you can’t go back to work yet, love,” Jaemin is saying, hands in his lap. “Renjun called in sick for you a couple days ago.”

“Why? I’m not sick?” Jeno says, and he turns to look at Renjun when he emerges from the bedroom. “Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles. “Jaemin is right, though, you can’t go back to work. Do you want to have breakfast with us?”

“You don’t have work either?” Jeno asks, confused. “Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it. Don’t you want the day off?”

“Uh…”

“I’ll make us food and explain. Sit down, love.”

Jeno doesn’t move. Renjun notices that’s he’s itching at the long scar up his arm with his fingernails. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Don’t scratch there,” he says, and Jeno looks down, visibly jolting with surprise.

“Wha—?” he pushes up his sleeve to look at the long scar, then looks back at Renjun and Jaemin. “What happened?”

“Don’t ask about it now,” Renjun begs, voice dropping. “You’ll remember again soon, Jen. Please, don’t think about it now.”

“I don’t understand,” he says again, backing up away from the both of them. “How did I get this?”

“I’ll tell you, okay? But you’re panicking, you have to calm down first. Take a seat for me, and steady your breathing. You don’t need to be afraid, it’s over now. You’re getting better.”

Jeno, ever obedient, does as he says. Sits at their dining table and looks at the wound, fingers tracing along it, but no longer digging into it. Renjun only makes them all drinks in the end, because he doesn’t want to feel like he’s tricking Jeno into eating.

By the time he makes it back to the table, Jeno has zoned out looking at his arm. Jaemin is sat opposite him, watching him closely. Placing his drink down in front of him doesn’t make Jeno snap out of it, so they wait.

“It might be a long time before he’s up to go back to work again,” he murmurs. “Perhaps we should call his work at the end of the week.”

“It is the end of the week,” Jaemin reminds him. “They can deal with it.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath over the table, and Jeno sits back, looking at each of them. Then he looks back down at his arm, flexing the muscles there.

“You with us?” Jaemin asks, and Jeno looks up at him again.

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s the first time he’s consciously spoken to Jaemin in three days. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jaemin responds, and Renjun can practically taste his hope. He pushes the coffee across the table. “Renjun made this for you.”

Jeno reaches out once Jaemin has retracted his hands, dragging the mug the rest of the way across the table. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jaemin says, benign. Renjun would almost find it endearing, how Jaemin is caught up in the most basic of conversations with his boyfriend, if it wasn’t so painful to watch. “I was going to make us some ramyeon? You want some?”

Jeno nods, unable to meet Jaemin’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Jaemin says, but doesn’t move away from the table. Renjun kicks him gently, and smiles when Jaemin tears his eyes away from Jeno to look at him.

“You want to wait until we’re starving?”

“Ah!” Jaemin scrapes back his chair to promptly comply.

When he moves further into the kitchen, Jeno leans forwards slightly over the table. “Sorry, can—can you remind me of his name?”

Renjun’s positive mood dims. “Jaemin,” he says softly.

“Jaemin,” Jeno repeats. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says, and takes a sip from his tea.

-

The next few days, in all fairness, show steady progress. Jeno starts to move around the apartment more freely, but won’t venture into the kitchen, and at one point they have to hide the knife block when they catch him fixating on it. He responds to Jaemin a few more times, seemingly with more awareness each time, which is good—but he still won’t touch either of them, shrinks away if anyone gets too close. Still, the personal sphere seems to be getting smaller, and if they wake up in the morning with skin touching, it doesn’t freak him out. He’ll still move away, but not so violently as before.

After another week, he stops moving away when Renjun gets into the bed beside him. He looks straight at him for a long time, until Renjun pauses reading his book to address him.

“You okay?”

“I want to touch you,” Jeno says, then goes a little pink in the face. “I mean—I just miss you.”

“You can touch me,” he says, putting the book aside and resting his palm out beside Jeno’s. “Nothing stopping you.”

“No I can’t,” Jeno says quietly. “What if something bad happens?”

“Nothing bad will happen.”

Jeno looks up at him, mouth set in a line. “I don’t like remembering those things happening, but I can’t help it. I think about touching you and Jaemin because I want to. But I can’t do it. In case I do those things again.”

“You never did them in the first place. I could tell as soon as the demon came into the apartment that it wasn’t you, you know. I knew there was something wrong immediately, I could tell there was danger. And I can tell you now, there’s no danger. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

Jeno takes a few breaths in, a few breaths out. “I know it, rationally. But I still can’t do it. It’s not that easy.”

“Can I touch you, then? Would that be okay?”

Jeno lies still. After a long moment, he nods. “Okay. Touch my hand.”

He turns his palm over shakily, and Renjun reaches out to place his own in it, threading their fingers together. The touch immediately makes him feel lighter—Jeno always runs hot, and it’s like his heat is spreading into Renjun too. He’s missed his boyfriend.

“How’s that?”

Jeno swallows, nods. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Renjun shuffles to lay parallel to Jeno, and reaches his other hand up to clasp Jeno’s loosely from both sides. Then he brings the hand to his mouth, and kisses over his knuckles. “That okay too?”

Jeno nods, mouth pursed together. He closes his eyes. “I really miss you and Jaemin.”

“I’m sorry,” Renjun says, kissing his knuckles again. “You’re doing so well, love. You’ll be able to do this with Jaemin too soon, I just know it.”

Jeno shakes his head. “I still have bad thoughts when I look at Jaemin. I can’t touch him.”

“You can touch me now, and you thought you couldn’t before. It might seem bad now, but you’ll come around to Jaemin, too. It will just take time.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth it if there’s a possibility I could hurt him again,” Jeno murmurs. “I’ve been thinking that I—maybe I should move out.”

Renjun sighs, heavy. “Oh, no. I don’t think any of us are ready for that, love.”

“I don’t want to feel like this forever. It’s better for us both.”

Renjun kisses his knuckles again. “Let’s talk about it again once you’re happy to leave the house, yeah? No rash decisions now. You need to do what’s right for you, but you’re saying this all out of anxiety.”

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay. It’s what I’m here for. Angel on your shoulder.” He kisses the tips of three fingers, then presses them to Jeno’s shoulder.

Jeno leans into the touch. “Will you kiss me for real?”

Renjun leans over without a question, pressing a kiss to Jeno’s mouth. It’s chaste, but well worth it. Jeno relaxes into the pillows immediately. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he whispers. This is progress. Jeno’s come further than he knows. “Talk in the morning?”

“Talk in the morning.”

-

They talk a few hours later, when Jeno wakes them up trying to sleepwalk out of the front door. He doesn’t wake up for a good few minutes of fumbling with the doorknob, and then turns to walk back through the apartment and get into the shower, fully clothed. He wakes up half-soaked in water, and Renjun can’t help but laugh, because it’s all harmless. This is progress.

-

After another week, Jeno has taken to touching Renjun freely—mostly small touches that mean nothing and everything, fingers on the skin of his arm, feet under the table. He’s even started talking to Jaemin when prompted. Life in the apartment is slowly inching closer to their memory of normal.

They suggest a ten-minute walk around the block, and Jeno is up for it this time. Renjun carefully maintains the middle spot between the three of them as they take a quiet route along the river, and Jeno is jumpy, but he manages. He wanders off in the middle of it to talk to the ducks, then forgets where they are, but other than that it goes well. Renjun comes home feeling as though they’ve made a leap.

That night, Jeno leans in to kiss Renjun before bed. It makes him beam like it’s their first kiss—and it feels like that, like a new start. He goes out to kiss Jaemin before brushing his teeth, to pass the kiss on, and Jaemin smiles like it means something special to him too. He’s tired, Renjun can tell that much, but there’s still hope. Jaemin always has hope.

“Do you still want to move out?” he asks Jeno as they crawl into bed together. “You might be ready to go back to work soon, you know. Jaemin will wait for you as long as you need, and you’re ready to face the rest of the world whenever you want. We’ll help you do whatever it is you choose.”

Jeno makes an undecided little sound. “I want to try… try and touch Jaemin soon. I don’t want the memories to control me anymore. But will you—will you be there too? In case?”

“Of course I will. That demon is nothing compared to us.”

“It’s never… it can’t come back, can it? It won’t find us again?”

“No. It’s been exorcised from you, so it can’t touch you again. And as soon as you’re happy for him to, Jaemin wants to mark you with some new runes. Comprehensive anti-possession ones. Look, he already practiced them on me.” He pulls down his sweatpants to show off the runes circling his thigh—more complicated than some of the others etched onto him, but also more powerful.

“That would be good,” Jeno mumbles. “Maybe soon.”

“Do they hurt you? The old ones?” They hadn’t looked to treat Jeno’s burns at all, with Jeno reluctant to receive touch or magic from them, but Renjun had pushed so much healing magic into him that night he doubts there’s much more to be done.

“Not anymore.”

Renjun presses a kiss to his forehead. “Good. Sleep now.”

-

They settle on it the next evening—Jeno sat in the armchair, Jaemin kneeling beside him, deliberately making himself small. Renjun hovers just to the side of Jaemin, perched on the sofa. Jeno has his arm reaching across the arm of the chair, fingers twitching, Jaemin’s hand resting just inches away.

“This is so stupid,” Jeno says under his breath, and Jaemin smiles at him, wide and honest.

“It’s not. It’s just like every other time we’ve held hands, yeah?”

“I really think you should have your staff,” Jeno says again. “I don’t want to…”

“I don’t need it,” Jaemin says, waving him away, resting his fingers against the chair and wiggling them in the air. “Trust me, we’re going to be fine.”

“You can’t know that. You don’t know the—the way I’ve been feeling—”

“I don’t,” Jaemin agrees. “But I know you. And I know you would never hurt me, Jeno, not with your heart.”

Jeno swallows. He looks up at Renjun. Renjun is fairly certain his presence is the only reason Jeno is willing to go through with this at all.

“I’ll be right here,” he says.

Jeno nods, looking down at his own fingers. “Are you sure you want to…?”

“I’m certain,” Jaemin says, inching closer, and Jeno slowly reaches out for him. Their fingers meet halfway, sliding to intertwine with each other’s. They’re still, for a moment.

Then Jeno’s arm twitches once, and Renjun’s breath catches. Jeno’s eyes, watching their hands, unfocus slightly.

“Jen…?”

Jeno pushes their connected hands forward forcefully, throwing Jaemin down on his back on the floor. Renjun stands as Jeno launches himself from the chair, but Jaemin throws a warning hand out to Renjun, so he waits. Jeno is bracing himself over Jaemin, and his hand jerks once, twice on the floor. Jaemin just lies there, looking up at him, and Jeno looks back.

Then Jeno backs away.

“Sorry,” he says, dragging himself off Jaemin and over to the side. “Sorry, sorry—I don’t know why—”

“It’s okay,” Jaemin says, sitting up. “You didn’t hurt me. Look at me, Jeno, you didn’t hurt me at all.” He shuffles over, and Jeno’s whole body is taut. “Look, I’m going to touch you again, and you’re not going to push me this time. You’re in control. Right?”

“I—no, you can’t know that—”

“I do know,” Jaemin says, holding his hand out. “Take my hand. You can do it.”

Jeno’s hands are squeezing his own knees, and he looks at Jaemin’s hand, then at his face. He glances back at Renjun once, who nods encouragingly.

Jeno reaches out, and Jaemin closes the difference. He places his hand in Jeno’s.

Nothing happens. Jaemin leans in to hug him, and Jeno very carefully hugs him back. Then he begins to cry.

“You’re okay,” Jaemin tells him, hushing him with a huge smile on his face, chin tucked into the crook of Jeno’s shoulder. “You did it. You’re okay. We’re going to be okay.”

-

For the first time in too long, all three of them share the bed. Renjun lies in the middle, and Jaemin cuddles up to him from behind—Jaemin is the most tactile out of all of them, and Renjun can sense his buzz at being able to be this close again—while Jeno watches them both. When they’re all settled under the sheets, he reaches out for something over Renjun’s shoulder that Renjun can’t see with the angle he’s laid at. He turns in Jaemin’s arms until he can see Jeno’s fingertips hovering at Jaemin’s shoulder. Where his shirt has slipped down, the gash scar is still visible, climbing up from his chest and ending on his shoulder.

“These things I think about…” he starts, dropping his hand to the bed. “They’ll go away, right?”

“They’ll go away,” Renjun says, curling his fingers up to take Jeno’s hand. “They might haunt you for a while, but they’re not a part of you. You’re so much stronger than them. You’ve already proved that today.”

“What about the—the sleepwalking? And the anxiety, and you know, everything else. I’m a weakness to be around. Aren’t you scared I’ll start throwing things or—leave the house with no idea where I’m going—”

“You might do that,” Jaemin says. “Or you might sleep soundly through the night. Whichever it is, we’ll deal with it. But you’re not in trouble because of it. And you’re definitely not a weakness. It’s not your fault, and we’re going to overcome this together. I’m going to make sure the demon can’t hurt you anymore.”

Jeno stretches out in the bed, shins knocking with Renjun’s and Jaemin’s. Renjun leans over to kiss him, and Jeno looks back at him with shining eyes in the dark.

“No one blames you for what happened. We don’t blame Jaemin either, right? And I did my best with the situation too. So we’re all here for each other, now. And we love you. It’s as simple as that. Anything else that comes along, we’ll deal with it together.”

Jeno nods, rearranging his head on the pillow, hair falling into his eyes. “I love you too.”

“Then nothing else needs to be said.” He leans over, kisses Jeno, then turns his head back to do the same for Jaemin. Jaemin smiles, then looks over to Jeno, who blinks back. Then, courageously, Jeno props himself up to lean over Renjun and kiss Jaemin.

Jaemin looks like the happiest man in the world, and Jeno hides his own little smile when he settles his head back into his arms. Renjun is so fond.

“Goodnight,” he bids them, and Jeno chimes it back, and Jaemin squeezes his waist. They fall asleep quickly and easily, the three of them at last in the right place.