Archive of Our Own ^beta

Spring was such a beautiful season. The world was green, flowers bloomed as far as the eye could see and the weather was so pleasant. Minho considered spring his favorite season of all. Well, as a butterfly it was obvious, really. No better season for a butterfly than spring. Plenty of flowers to sit on, humans to play with, puppies to sit on. It was heaven and Minho really wouldn’t have it any other way.

Minho considered himself to be quite a handsome butterfly. He was quite rare after all. He knew it from the minute he hatched from his egg. His destiny was different. His journey would be bigger than any ordinary butterfly around him. On-lookers regarded him with wonder and surprise when he fluttered by them. Being of the very rare variety, his wings were a beautiful deep blue lined with purple and he was proud of it. He was the star and he was the moment.

The other butterflies made way for him in the flower patch when he was around. It’s like they too knew that he wasn’t like them. He was different, he was special and they recognized it. He always had access to the best flowers among the lot. It was like a Michelin star meal but from a flower. But despite all the grandeur and the reverence, he was quite lonely. After all, the life of a celebrity was quite bare. 

Being a rare butterfly definitely did not help in that regard. None of the other butterflies around the flower patch interested him and he often flew away from the female butterflies that swarmed around him. He usually flew away before they could start dancing for him. They wanted his attention for only one thing and Minho wanted no part of it. His genes were not something he was going to hand out freely like freebies. They needed to be deserving of it. And frankly, none of them qualified. There was no one around that made him want to dance. 

Dancing was like an underground rule among butterflies. A butterfly that didn’t dance for you was a butterfly that was just not into you. He was a fabulous dancer if self assessments were anything to go by. So, it wasn’t really his fault that none of the other butterflies garnered his attention. In the end, most of his days were spent sipping sweet nectar, playing with human children in the park where his flower patch was and proving how dumb dogs were.

Minho soon realized his life had become monotonous. His life had developed a routine and had become stagnant. Nothing exciting ever happened. Oh, Norman mated with Cynthia? Well, big whoop. Ha-Nah’s fifth batch of eggs hatched? Oh, good, now there were more of them. The cycle never changed. It was always the same story and Minho was sick and tired of it. He was a rare majestic butterfly. He was destined for greatness not to be reduced to living such a monotonous lifestyle. But sigh, what was he to do? He was only a butterfly after all. There was only so far he could fly.

No, that wasn’t going to stop him. He was going to leave. He was going to fly away from that bore of a flower patch never to look back. Norman and Cynthia could suck it. He decided to depart the next morning.

It was midday and Minho was already quite a ways away from the flower patch already. He had found plenty of stray flowers on his journey to snack on. They weren’t Michelin star quality but they would do for this journey. The refined palate in his feet could adjust a day without fine dining. 

He had encountered so many things on his journey that he would have never seen if he stayed in the flower patch. He saw so many man houses that touched the sky, so many moving metal boxes that puked out smoke and humans in all different shapes and sizes. His antennae were also assaulted with a myriad of smells as he fluttered through the large never ending world. He realized, as he flew by, how small his world of the flower patch actually was and how big and wonderous the world was around them. He felt like for the first time in his life his 200 compound eyes were finally open.

Minho stopped at a forest clearing when the sun set. The clearing was really pretty filled with wildflowers that grew in wild abandon. The butterflies that occupied the region were also one of a kind. They were white like cotton, ethereal in their beauty and they glowed in the dark. How fascinating! He had never met a butterfly that glowed before. If only Minho could glow too, he would have been class apart then. His power would have been too immense, perhaps that’s why he didn’t glow. He assumed they were a special variety because he had never seen their kind before.

Tired from the journey, Minho lazily searched for a flower to rest on for the night. The sun had set and he was exhausted. He could always do more exploring in the morning. If he went any further tonight he was afraid his wings would fall off.

But then, just as Minho brought his wings to soft stillness, he felt his world shake. Earthquake? It sure felt like one. The flower he perched on shook wildly with every quake. That’s when he realized that the shaking wasn’t really because of an earthquake. That was someone’s or something’s heavy-footed feet. You see, since he was a butterfly, everything bigger than him had detrimental effects to his environment. So, even if someone larger than him tiptoed around him in stealth mode, he would have still been able to sense their presence because of the vibrations they produced. Minho also had a very keen sense of smell. He could sniff out danger from a mile away and that keen sense had often been the reason he was alive right now. So why wasn’t he alerted of this creature until it was too close?

Minho’s antennae twitched. This thing was definitely not human he was sure of that. His antennae twitched again. It appeared to be more like a canine? A dog perhaps? No, much larger? A wolf? Somehow this creature was a bit larger than a wolf. And then it hit him. What was that wonderful smell? It was delicious. It smelt better than any flower he had ever sat on. Where was it coming from? Hold on? The overgrown wolf? Minho had to get a closer look.

The rare young butterfly took to the skies of the night once more, this time not to resume his journey but to follow the scent that seemed to permeate through his entire being. His antennae were twitching wildly now. He was close. And then, there, in the middle of the clearing was a large black wolf rolling around playfully in the clearing amongst the grass and the flowers basking in the moonlight. The wolf was on their back wiggling around in the grass as though they were trying to scratch an impossible itch. Minho also noticed how the glow butterflies were also seemingly attracted to not just their smell but their aura in general.

Minho felt a sudden sense of possessiveness wash over him. He had smelt the wolf first. It was only right Minho got the first peek at the creature. Mentally pouting at the sight of the wolf being swarmed by the glow butterflies, Minho made his way down, closer to the creature. His curiosity won over his general possessiveness and soon he was one among the many glow butterflies that surrounded the wolf. He was so close to the addicting smell, he could almost taste it.

The wolf seemed to sense his desperation. The wolf immediately stopped their wiggling and turned over onto their belly with their paws neatly tucked underneath them and their warm snout directly facing Minho.

The Blue butterfly was surprised. How did the wolf know? Did they sense him out like how Minho did? Or was it because he was the only blue butterfly among the glowing whites? It did not matter. The Wolf had given him an open invitation and Minho would be damned if he wasn’t going to make full use of it. 

The rare blue butterfly fluttered closer and closer. The scent increased in intensity with every inch and soon he was nose to nose with this giant creature. The butterfly fluttered away when the wolf began to pant, the hot breath sending delightful tingles down his feet. Realising the butterfly wasn't going to come any closer as long as they had their mouth open, the wolf quickly clasped their mouth shut laying as still as possible. Minho sensing the Wolf's open invite again flew much closer to the wolf and this time he gently perched on his warm wet snout.

The minute his feet touched the wolf he felt his entire being shiver in delight. His antennae were twitching wildly beyond Minho's control and all the butterfly wanted to was melt against the Wolf's delicious scent. He tasted better than all those Michelin flowers combined. The wolf's scent intoxicated him.

He heard the wolf release a small yip, his wings instantly fluttered in response as if signaling to the creature that they were heard. The wolf yipped in delight as they slowly and carefully stood on their fours with Minho still on him. And then to his surprise, the wolf started bouncing around. Minho was very confused at first. Didn't the wolf realize that when they shook like that, Minho's entire world shook as well? That's when he realized, this wolf was after all canine, a dog. And what do dogs like to do? They like to play. 

Minho, liking the challenge, instantly fluttered away from their snout. He started flying all around the wolf prompting them to chase him which the wolf did, happily. They played like this for what felt like hours. Chasing, pretending to be caught, perching on the Wolf's head. By the end, it was safe to say that the both of them were exhausted. 

Minho in an attempt to relieve his exhaustion perched on top of the wolf's head, breathing in the intoxicating scent and proceeding to get drunk off of it. He heard a soft groan from below him. He thought nothing of it at first but then the groans increased in number and the surface on which he was perched began to shake. Minho internally sighed. He was getting real tired of all these earthquakes. Minho quickly flew higher to make sense of what was going on with the wolf. For some foreign reason that Minho had yet to make sense of, he didn't like seeing the wolf in pain.

The groaning became worse turning to what he only assumed was the sound of bones cracking. Amidst the chaos the wolf disappeared and in their place stood a man. A human. Well, if he was going to be technical, the man was a werewolf. 

The butterfly observed that the man seemed to have coverings only on his bottom half. Curious to see more, the butterfly flew in closer and noticed a thin layer of something shiny that gave off such a potent scent, Minho nearly dived head first into it. The thin layer was wet and clear and perhaps a bit salty but the scent that it gave off was still the most amazing thing he had smelt in a long while. 

The man giggled when he felt Minho flutter to his neck. He gently placed his hand near his neck like he was asking Minho to perch on his hand, which he did because the man asked so nicely. 

The man then brought his hand in front of him to have a better look at Minho. Sensing that he was being observed and appraised, Minho danced on his hand, his wings fluttering in unison with his six feet. He heard the man gasp. He must have been pleased with Minho's magnificent display of his dancing prowess so the butterfly simply continued. Fluttering his wings in a rhythmic pattern, he moved his six legs according to a beat he made up in his head. He was truly enjoying himself and by the looks of it, so was the wolf— man? Wolfman? Werewolf? He would figure the semantics out later.

The wolfman turned his hand slightly, his palm facing upwards. He slowly connected his other hand too to obviously provide for a bigger stage for Minho to show off on. Minho was thrilled at what he was doing. At first he was confused as to why he was dancing in the first place because Minho had previously never danced. Not once. No one had stirred him enough to break out into a fine routine to impress and mesmerize. But then he heard the wolfman emit a deep throaty sound, which again he assumed was a laugh because he had seen plenty of little humans do high pitched versions at the park he previously called his home and he felt a shiver run through the entirety of his hard shell. He had never felt like this before. Yes, he was a rare butterfly, as rare as they came, but in his sixteen days of life he had never felt the need to proactively impress anyone else. Until this wolfman creature appeared before him with his exquisite smell.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” the wolfman rumbled.

If Minho had the ability to blush, he definitely would but he didn’t so he resorted to delicately move his wings to show just how much he liked what the creature said. Unable to help himself he flew towards the wolfman’s cheek, nuzzling him as best as he could and basking in the delicious wet sheen that the creature produced. 

How could Minho, a butterfly, understand human tongue you might ask. The thing was, Minho himself didn’t know. The minute he came out of his cocoon and fluttered towards his home flower patch where tiny humans frolicked he realized he could understand human tongue. He honestly never thought to question it. In fact, he thought all butterflies could understand humans and never thought it was something attributed only to him. 

“Aw, I like you too.” He said, chuckling. Minho decided he liked that sound a lot.

The creature then gestured with his open palms for the butterfly to come perch on them again. And since, again, the wolfman asked so nicely, Minho complied.

“You know…” the wolfman started, his voice reverberating through Minho’s entire butterfly body.

“It’s gonna dawn soon.”

Minho fluttered his wings. What? The sun was already rising? But didn’t it just set a few minutes ago? This had to be a joke.

The wolfman giggled. “I know, I didn’t realize it too but we managed to play the whole night, pretty thing.”

The whole night? Really? Minho fluttered his wings in surprise.

“And although it was fun, I do have to go home now. You see, my pack is waiting for me.”

Minho grew disappointed. He quite liked the wolfman’s company. He wasn’t quite ready for him to leave just yet. His drooping wings seemed to reflect his response.

“Aw, don’t be upset. I’ll come by tomorrow. Promise.”

The butterfly, ecstatic at the prospect of meeting the creature again flew towards his face and started placing light kisses on his cheeks.

The wolfman giggled at the excited reaction. “Oh, my, are you that excited to see me again?”

Minho responded by flying around his head. His answer was yes. With that intoxicating smell, it was always going to be a yes.

“My name is Chan by the way, and as much as I would like to keep calling you pretty thing, I think a name for you is in order.”

But Minho had a name. He just didn’t know how to tell ‘Chan’ what it was.

To his chagrin, Chan started listing out a bunch of names that he thought suited the butterfly. Lucy, Heaven, Angel, Ben, Han-eul, the list went on and on and Minho hated every single one of them. The wolfman seemed like he was going to go on with the names until Minho gave him some sort of reaction so Minho being the brilliant butterfly he was, decided to take matters into his own legs.

He elegantly flew over to some of the wildflowers around them that he knew still had nectar and dipped his legs and proboscis into the sweet solution. He then flew back to Chan’s open palm and started tracing letters that he had seen quite often on his journey that matched up with his name.

How did he know? Well, that’s an interesting story. You see, one day, when Minho was still living at the flower patch, a group of small human children decided to have some sort of class at the park. Bored out of his mind, he decided to sit in on the class and lo and behold, he was now well versed in the human alphabet.

Minho, as best as he could, traced out the letters of his name in the nectar. Pleased with his attempt, he quickly flew over to the flowers once more to cover himself in pollen and then as gracefully as he could, (because he was the delicate, elegant pride of the skies) shook himself over the nectar in Chan’s palm. The pollen that fell from Minho's body stuck onto the wet nectar lines that the butterfly had drawn earlier. The letters he had drawn could now be seen more clearly by the wolfman. He hoped the creature finally understood what he wanted to say, that he finally understood what his name actually was.

“Mimo?”

Minho froze. What? That wasn’t what he wrote. He quickly flew over to inspect his writing once again, immediately spotting the mistake. In the time he had gone to gather the pollen for his arts and crafts project, the nectar had bled out, as all liquids did, combining a few of the letters. Mino. He was supposed to write Minho. And now that turned into this abomination.

The wolfman watched as the blue butterfly flew furiously around his palms which he obviously mistook for excitement. 

“Your name is Mimo?” Chan questioned, surprised.

Minho fluttered in exasperation at being unable to fix his mistake.

“I like it. You have a beautiful name, Mimo. It suits you.” Chan misunderstood his flutter once again.

Dogs really were very dumb.

Minho fluttered his wings in disagreement. Sadly, there wasn’t a way to fix it at the moment. Minho in his tiny body wasn’t capable of such a feat. Mimo would have to do. For now. 

Chan smiled at Minho as he lightly flew around.

“I really have to go now, Mimo. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Minho floated up and down as if saying yes. The wolfman gently reached his finger forward to carefully caress Minho’s blue wing and then he was gone, sprinting back into the forest from where he came.

The wolfman did come back as promised. Minho was actually quite surprised. He really did consider their meeting as a one off thing. But there he was, bursting through the forest and into the clearing, his long shaggy black coat flowing majestically as he sprinted. Minho’s tiny heart skipped a beat. 

As the blue butterfly lay perched on his flower waiting for the big shaggy ball of floof to come bounding straight for him, he wondered exactly what had fascinated him about this creature. Yes, he wasn’t like other humans but neither was he so that didn’t really matter. 

So, then why? Was it because he was kind? That was common courtesy, wasn’t it? Perhaps it was because he seemed to understand him. Despite being so rare and beautiful, he wasn’t always well received by the natural public. He had his fair share of predators, humans included. So, it was nice to not be hunted for a while.

Minho also liked how freeing it was. He didn’t have to restrict himself from pursuing things that piqued his curiosity. He didn't have to maintain the routine of a regular butterfly. He could do whatever he wanted. Here in the meadow, it was just Chan and him and of course, the white glow butterflies. Quite peculiar creatures. 

The wolf yipped, breaking Minho’s chain of thought. It sounded almost like he said, “Mimo.” The butterfly narrowed his compound eyes at the offending creature as best as he could.

The wolf let out a hot breath like he was chuckling and it deliciously ruffled Minho’s wings. Okay, maybe he was quite endearing as well. 

Minho tsked at Chan and then took flight prompting the wolf to chase him. 

In fact, he came back every night after that one. Always appearing in his wolf form first and then changing into a man. The transformation fascinated him a lot because it reminded him of when he transformed from a wee caterpillar into the magnificence he was today.

Every night Minho waited perched atop a flower and every night Chan appeared, sprinting through the forest and emerging into the clearing, his majestic black coat shimmering under the moonlight. They played with each other all night long and parted ways in the morning. Minho felt a growing pang in his heart every time he watched the wolf leave the clearing but he still considered those nights some of his best in his entire lifespan as an adult.

Chan talked to Minho like he knew exactly what he was thinking, which was weird. They shouldn’t have been able to communicate in this way. Minho was after all an insect and Chan was a… well, whatever he was. But somehow, they understood each other perfectly.

As the nights went by Minho realized he was addicted to more than just the scent from, oh, wait, what had Chan called it? Sweem? Smut? Ah, Sweat. Yes, that was the word. So, although Chan’s sweat was divine, and Minho couldn’t really get enough of it, the butterfly had grown quite fond of the wolfman as a whole, apart from his scent.

He was playful and kind, and never treated Minho like a pest. He always made sure to gently caress Minho’s wings like they were delicate treasures. He treated Minho with love and care like he was just another living breathing human and suddenly Minho wanted just that. He wanted to be human. He wanted to be with Chan, to talk to him, to physically touch him and bury his face in his neck. He couldn’t do any of that as a mere butterfly no matter how rare and beautiful he was. All he could do was fly around him, perch on his body or on a flower next to him while he laid down on the clearing floor. 

Minho looked at the moon from on top of Chan’s head. The curious creature had transformed into his human self after a round of playful frolic in his wolf form.

Chan had his head tilted to look at the moon too. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Minho agreed. It was magnificent. 

“You know, I feel like I get you, Mimo. You’re not an ordinary butterfly. You’re different. It’s like you can understand me.” 

Chan looked down at Minho who was perched on a flower in front of him. The butterfly watched as the wolfman broke out into a smile, one that showed off all his teeth and those fascinating holes in his face.

“You’re beautiful, Mimo. The most beautiful butterfly I’ve ever seen.” 

Minho preened. He knew he was beautiful. He had heard enough people say those words to him. He was usually quite tired of it but this was different. He liked it when Chan called him beautiful. He actually liked it a lot.

“I only wish I could talk to you. To really understand what you’re thinking.” Chan mused, bringing his head down to look at the beautiful blue creature.

Minho fluttered his wings in a scoff. He wasn’t so sure about that. Most of his time was spent calling Chan a stupid dog every time he did anything remotely silly. The other was spent daydreaming about Chan’s scent and his neck and what it would be like to be human and taste it.

Minho sighed. Minho was a butterfly. And like all butterflies his life too was going to end long before Chan’s would. That brought him immense sadness. He might not even make it to the next full moon. 

Somehow it seemed as though Chan picked up on Minho’s somber mood. His finger gently brushed up Minho’s wing, which fluttered in response. He quickly flew up to rest against Chan’s neck where his scent was the strongest. 

“Mimo, I have to tell you something.” 

Minho flapped his wings once. It was a code they had come up with during the many times they had hung out. One flap for yes, two flaps for no.

“I’m going to be away for a few days.”

What? Minho stood still on Chan’s shoulder. Did that mean he wasn’t going to see the wolfman?

Chan’s hands picked and fiddled with a few grass blades.

“I don’t know if you can tell but my scent is getting stronger.”

Oh, Minho could tell. If he was any other insect he would have been scent drunk. But Minho was not like the others. He prided himself on the self restraint he exhibited to not act like a floozy drunk on scent.

“And it’s only going to get stronger. It’s my rut, I have no idea why but it’s here earlier than usual this time. And… and I need to go far away so I don’t hurt anyone.”

Oh… a rut. He wondered what that meant? Was it a mating ritual? Did it make you feel like dancing for someone all your life? Then, wasn’t that a good thing? Chan said it made his scent much stronger than it was now. That was definitely a good thing for Minho. He flapped his wings once to show his understanding.

“I don't know why I feel like this but I’m going to miss you, Mimo. Even a day apart feels like too much time to be away from you. I feel this deep anxiousness inside me, like it’s constantly telling me to go to you. To be near you. Do you— Do you feel the same?” Chan turned to look at Minho, awaiting his answer.

Minho understood what Chan felt because he too felt the same. Forget a day, a mere minute apart was too much for the butterfly whose lifespan was so short. And it appeared Chan felt the same pull he did towards him. He didn’t really understand it but it was there.

He flapped his wings once but by then Chan had already turned his head away. 

The wolfman let out a hollow chuckle. Minho decided he didn’t like the sound at all. It lacked the usual mirth Chan exuded and it just made him feel very, very sad.

“What am I even thinking?” He laughed once again, this time even more hollow than the last. “I’m fucking delusional. I’m talking to a butterfly. What is even wrong with me?” His hands pulled at strands of grass with brute force. A clear sign of frustration.

Chan turned to look at Minho once again. His expression this time was one of pain. Minho felt a twinge in his own heart. He hated it, He hated that look on Chan. He wanted to do nothing more than to wipe that expression from his face forever. 

“To you, I’m probably just a stupid dog, aren’t I? A delusional stupid dog who might have some sort of feelings for a butterfly.” Chan laughed out maniacally.

What? Did he hear Chan right? Chan had feelings for him? But he was a butterfly? There was absolutely no way anything was even remotely possible between them, then why? His wings fluttered to reflect what he felt.

“Are you even hearing yourself, Chan?” The wolfman let out, frustrated. “Fuck, I think the rut is making me crazy. I need to leave.”

No! Chan couldn’t leave now. Not when he almost confessed, not when his mood was this bad. He needed to do something. Minho walked closer to Chan’s neck and used his wings to caress his chin.

Chan chuckled softly but then sighed quickly after. “I have to go, Mimo. It’s time.” 

Minho did not want him to go. He carried himself closer to Chan’s neck as if to say, “Take me with you.”

“I would take you with me if I could.” Chan muttered softly using that uncanny ability of his to understand Minho.

“But you belong here, Mimo. It would be cruel and frankly, down right selfish of me to take you away from your home. And I need space. Time away to think and come to terms with what I’m really feeling. I can’t really do that when I’m with you. When all I want to do is stay here.”

Minho fluttered his wings in annoyance, Chan couldn’t have been more wrong. The clearing wasn’t his home. He had no home. He had no one. Chan was the closest thing to remotely friendly he had in his life. 

Chan got up to leave and Minho felt a sense of panic settle in. His fluttering became more erratic.

Chan frowned while watching the display. “Mimo, what’s wrong? Is something upsetting you?”

Minho’s flying became even more erratic. He wanted to scream ‘don’t leave. Please, don’t leave’ as loud as he could but alas there was nothing he could do except fly around like a useless insect.

For the first time in his life he was not proud of being a butterfly. The first time he did not feel rare and special and like he could do anything in the world. Instead, he felt helpless. He felt desperate. 

In the back of his mind he knew if he let Chan go now everything was going to change. Any chance he’d have at anything with the wolf would vanish the minute the man left the clearing. 

But he could do nothing. All he could do was helplessly watch as the man he came to deeply care for walked away from him, possibly for good. Minho felt his heart break. The pieces of which he didn’t have the strength to put back together. He did the only thing he could do at that moment. He cried out in helplessness as he danced like it was his last. 

“Don’t go.” He cried to the wolf who could not hear him. His wings moved in precise movements in time with his dance. The dance of a broken hearted soul.

“Don’t leave, please.” His cries grew louder. The loud clicks of a butterfly’s cry roused the environment around him. His chemical pheromones stirred his surroundings to life.

“Please, please, stay.” 

The clicks of his cries echoed now. His wings flapped in rhythmic tandem. His distraught echoed in the flutter of white glow butterflies that slowly swarmed him. Their glow increased with each resounding cry.

“Please, I want to be human.” His cries were loud and intense. “I want to be human! I don’t want him to leave. Chan! Don’t go!” The fluttering of his wings was so intense just to convey just how desperate he truly was.

The flutter of the white glow butterflies enveloped him as his shrieks of a love that was going to be lost reverberated through the flutter. 

“Please, please. Make me human so I can make him stay.” He let out a solemn prayer into the flutter of white glow butterflies as they twirled around in a spiral around him raising him from his stage. Their glow was blinding. 

Minho let the flutter take him. Perhaps this was his destiny. A destiny of nothing. All that preaching that he was born for greater things was all for nought. Perhaps he deserved to die for being such a useless insect.

“Chan…” He cried out with his last breath.

And then a blinding flash. Minho felt his world shift. One minute he was floating in the air and the next he was on the ground, the butterflies slowly flying away from him.

The ground felt different. His feet clutched at the grass under his toes.

Wait.

What?

Toes?

Minho immediately looked down to find two human feet attached to him. He couldn’t believe it. The butterflies had answered his prayer. He was human. All ten fingers and ten toes of him. But he felt something strange on his back. He turned to look over only to find his majestic blue wings still attached to his back. He flapped them in surprise. The feeling felt familiar yet foreign at the same time. But he had no time to acclimatize with them.

Minho opened his mouth to speak to the wolf that was still walking away. At first all that came out was a croak. Minho cleared his throat. 

“Chan.” His voice was hoarse. He coughed at the strain. Minho tried again.

“Chan.” His voice was much more stable this time around.

He wiggled his toes again before attempting to move his feet. He did wobble at first but quickly figured out his balance. He was a dancer after all. Finding his balance was caterpillar play to him. But he could get accustomed to his body later. He had to run after his wolfman first.

“Chan!” He screamed with the loudest voice his new body could muster as his feet moved to a sprint to catch up to the man.

“Chan!” He screamed again and this time his voice was heard by the wolf. 

The man stopped mid-step, his body frozen by the presence of a voice other than his own. Minho slowly brought his sprint to a stop as he watched Chan turn towards him. The wolf’s expression was one of pure shock.

“Chan.” He said once again as soon as he was closer to Chan. Close enough to touch him if he reached out.

“Mimo?” Chan let out in disbelief.

Minho smiled, nodding. “Chan.”

Chan walked closer towards him. His eyes took in the marvelous expanse of wings behind Minho. “How?” 

Minho shrugged. He pointed towards the clearing. “The glow whites.”

Chan somehow looked even more confused. 

Minho decided that enough time was wasted dawdling. He needed to stop Chan from leaving now. 

He grasped onto Chan’s wrists with both his hands. “Don’t go.” He said with a frown. “Stay. With me.”

Chan spluttered. “What?”

Minho grunted in annoyance. Even after turning into a human he had trouble being understood. He reached out a hand and placed it gently at the center of Chan’s chest. 

“Like.” Minho spoke softly. “Me too.”

Chan’s eyes widened. He looked down at the hand on his chest. His own hand reached to cover Minho’s. “Really?”

Minho nodded enthusiastically. His wings, like a habit, flapped once. Finally, the wolf understood. He was eager for Chan to know how he felt. For Chan not to leave him. For Chan to understand that the wolf was special to him.

“You.” His voice was soft. “Like me. Yes?” 

Chan smiled. He nodded. Minho felt his human heart jump for joy, his wings reacted to his mirth. 

“I do, Mimo. I do like you.”

And then Minho did the thing he had dreamt of doing since he had first met the wolf. He jumped into his arms and buried his nose in Chan’s neck. The minute he deeply inhaled a voice rang in his head.

Mate.

Ah, a mate. Chan was his mate. The person he wanted to dance for. Perhaps that was why he loved Chan’s scent so much. They were chemically compatible.

He felt Chan freeze in his arms followed by a gasp of surprise. 

Chan slowly pulled away from the hug much to Minho’s displeasure. Minho let out a loud whine to show just how displeased he was. 

Chan chuckled, clearly endeared. His hands came up to gently cup Minho’s face.

“Of course. It makes so much sense. You’re my mate. That’s why I was so drawn to you.” 

“Mate.” Minho said. His smile reflected Chan’s own.

“You’re beautiful. Wings and all. My beautiful mate.” He smiled. The holes in his face grew pronounced.

Chan brought his face closer to Minho’s own. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered. 

“Kiss?” Minho tilted his head to the side. 

Chan popped his lips in an ‘Oh,’ surprised that Minho didn’t know what he was talking about. But then he realized that Minho, until a few moments ago, was in fact a butterfly. Butterflies probably didn’t kiss at all.

“I can show you. Would that be okay?”

Minho nodded. He was excited to try anything. Humans were so interesting. They felt so many things over their entire bodies. He wondered what Chan was going to teach him and whether it would feel as good as all the other things he felt since he became human. Like the grass beneath his feet. 

“Okay, Close your eyes.” The wolfman whispered.

Minho obeyed. His eyes were closed and waiting when he felt a gentle press of something against the plush pillows of his mouth. It felt really nice and warm. Minho felt a tingle of delight run down his spine. The moment was brief as Chan pulled away quickly after. It was only then that Minho realized Chan had clashed his mouth pillows with his own. Man, this kissing business was quite fun. He liked the tingles it gave him.

“What do you think?”

“Like. Like very much.” Minho replied. He then pulled Chan closer, his plush mouth pillows brushing against Chan’s own.

Chan chuckled against his mouth pillows. “Open your mouth, Mimo. Keep your lips slightly apart like this.” the wolfman demonstrated with his own ‘lips.’ 

Minho followed suit, keeping his lips slightly parted like Chan had instructed. He felt Chan’s lips against his own again. But this time the kiss was different. Chan’s lips moved against his with purpose and the tingles returned. Minho felt his body melt the more Chan kissed him. So far being a human was great and if kissing was this fun he wanted to do it all the time. He felt his toes curl against the grass as Chan proceeded to gently lick inside his mouth. Minho let out a small moan of delight. 

Chan, once again much to Minho’s annoyance, pulled away. A pout now formed on Minho’s lips. 

Chan laughed. “I promise I’ll teach you more later. But we have to leave now. It’s gonna dawn soon.” He reasoned as he looked at the vibrant dawning sky, pulling away from Minho completely.

The wolfman then reached out his hand for Minho to hold. “Do you want to come with me?”

Minho looked at him with eyes full of hope. Hope that had been repeatedly destroyed every time Chan left the clearing. 

“No leave me?” He asked in a small voice.

Chan’s eyes softened. Chan shook his head. “No, Mimo. I’m taking you with me.”

Minho held on to Chan’s extended hand with delight. 

Chan grinned in response as they made their way through the clearing and into the forest. 

Minho turned back one last time before departing from the clearing forever. His home for the past few weeks. It was a goodbye not only to the clearing but also to his life as a butterfly. He found his destiny, his forever. Minho smiled. He really had been born for greater things.

His gaze was focused on the few white glow butterflies that still fluttered in the clearing. He smiled, his solemn thought of gratitude going out to them. He hoped they heard him. Two simple words.

Thank you. 

Minho looked at Chan once he finished strapping him into his metal box or what Chan liked to call, “car.” Minho somehow managed to fold his wings so they merged into his back for convenience. He thanked the white glow butterflies profusely in his head for giving him bendy folding wings.

“Chan.” He called.

“Hmm, Mimo?"” Chan responded as he moved to fix his own seatbelt.

“Minho.”

Chan looked up at Minho in confusion. “What?”

Minho put a hand on his chest. “Name. My name, Minho.”

Chan’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? It’s not Mimo?”

Minho nodded his head. 

Chan chuckled. The cute holes in his face had once again resurfaced. Minho wanted to poke them.

“I kinda think Mimo is cute though. Could I still call you that?”

Minho grinned. “Yes.”

Chan paused. He spent the next minute just staring at Minho.

“I still can’t believe you’re here with me right now. You’re  freaking breathtaking, you know that?”

Minho giggled and Chan couldn’t stop himself from cooing at the adorable display.

“I really like you, Minho.”

Minho, unable to resist, leaned across from his seat to kiss him. Chan’s breath was hot against his own. The position was very uncomfortable but the both of them sported nothing but smiles. 

And then Minho whispered against his lips. “Me too.”

THE END