Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jihoon is having a terrible week. Or at least he thinks it’s been a week. He honestly can’t be sure.

Like all of his terrible weeks, this is all Soonyoung’s fault.

Well, maybe not all Soonyoung, since it was him and Junhui fucking around with magic well above their paygrades. Assholes. Jihoon’s ready to rip into them the second he can. But first he has to find them, and then, oh wait, the spell has to fade since he can’t really talk right now. Not above meows and yowls and cries and hisses. 

Yeah, that’s right: he’s a goddamn cat.

After the spell hit him, he wasn’t sure what had happened. There was a lot of pain and being too big for his body and what felt like convulsions, before he was enraptured in what felt like a terrible acid trip. He was behind the eyes of a cat, almost as if he was playing VR, running around and eating trash and avoiding other pests like street animals and people. It was fine, he thought, figuring that he’d wake up on the floor or the couch or his bed with a guilty Junhui and Soonyoung freaking out nearby. They’d laugh it off with a good dinner from their favorite restaurant, watching Marvel movies on the couch before they fell asleep there. 

It was supposed to be fine.

But he never woke up. Because of course it isn’t that easy. If Junhui and Soonyoung are going to get him involved in a beyond fucked up spell, of course it’s one of the worst things that Jihoon’s had to deal with. The only thing he can be grateful for is that he’s in between projects right now; if his job were on the line there would be hell to pay. Not that there isn’t now, no, but he would have certainly found the idiots by now and sunk his claws into them. 

Instead, Jihoon is lost in some foreign part of the city, dirty and starved in the opening of an alley. He can’t figure out how to get home, and now that the cat brain has faded he can’t really hunt well. Nothing looks the same with his glaringly wrong perspective and the human part of him winces at the thought of eating a raw rat, leaving him to the scraps he can find and stomach. He couldn’t even get scraps today, being chased away from his usual garbage haunts by a woman with what looked like an actual intent to harm him. The Terror, as he’s decided to call her, freaked him out so much that he ran as far and as fast as he could. He wasn’t entirely paying attention, which landed him here, whimpering and limping to where he’s finally decided to rest for the night. His hand, foot, paw, whatever, it hurts. Hurts like hell. He thinks there’s glass in it, but he hasn’t managed to bring himself to look. And when the skies open up, soaking him to his core and leaving him to shiver on the asphalt, Jihoon can’t stop his whimpers. 

He’s going to die here, and no one will be any the wiser. 

It’s while he’s realizing that this may as well be his tragic end that someone must walk up to him, a gentle finger running down his spine. He hisses halfheartedly, sure that it’s unconvincing in his current state, but a voice above him coos gently at him. 

“Hey little guy, it’s okay,” they start, and Jihoon forces his eyes open to look at the stranger. He’s handsome, Jihoon notes, and seemingly kind. He’s holding his umbrella over Jihoon more than himself, and his gentle finger moving to rub between Jihoon’s ears. It’s a bit mortifying, but he feels a purr rip itself out of his chest. 

“See? You’re okay.” For some reason, maybe it’s the gentle touches or the umbrella or the overall kindness he’s seen (or just his desperation), but Jihoon actually does feel okay, feel safe even. Safer than he has since the spell was botched, at least. The man rubs Jihoon’s chin, which tickles annoyingly, and Jihoon tries to bat his hand away. Except he isn’t thinking, of course he isn’t, and he catches his bad hand/foot/paw on the man’s finger. Fuck that hurts. Whimpering, Jihoon curls up around his foot and tries to hide it from the man instinctually. But of course it doesn’t work. Cat versus human? The cat, especially when he’s injured and not even really a cat, is easily overpowered everytime. Carefully, like he knows how much it must hurt, the man unfurrels Jihoon’s leg and shushes him as he hisses.

“Oh, baby,” the man says softly before he looks around and Jihoon can’t help but to whimper again. “Let’s get you warm and dry first, and then we’ll get someone to look at you.” If Jihoon could talk, he’d at least ask the stranger for his name. Huff at him about it, say that he’s not so easy. But since he’s a fucking cat, Jihoon willingly lets the man pick him up and can’t help but to sigh in relief when he gets tucked into the man’s coat. His chest is warm, warmer than anything Jihoon’s felt in what feels like years, and Jihoon lets himself relax into it with an unexpected ease. 

He bobs with every step but he can’t say that he minds, grateful for the warmth more than he could ever explain. Even if he’s starved he at least doesn’t think he’ll freeze to death anymore, and with that thought as a comfort, Jihoon allows himself to nap for seemingly the rest of the journey. 

Jihoon finds himself slowly waking up to the man’s gentle voice, clearly speaking to someone nearby. He wriggles around until he can pop his nose out of the man’s coat, finally realizing that he’s in an apartment of some sort and there’s a new person in front of him.

“Is this him?” The new stranger asks, holding out a finger for Jihoon to sniff. He’s not sure what to do with it, not really, but he doesn’t oppose the scritches he gets behind his ears. “He’s sweet.”

“He stepped on glass,” the stranger holding him says softly, carefully trying to remove Jihoon from his jacket at least partially, making the cat (man, he’s still a man dammit) whimper at the loss of warmth. The new man, Red, figures he’ll call him after his shockingly bright hair, gently takes a hold of Jihoon’s leg, twisting and turning it so that he may get a better look at the glass buried in his flesh. He can’t help but to flinch and whimper and try to pull free out of instinct alone. Listen, he’s trying to be good, really. Jihoon knows that they’re trying to help him, and he really wants to let them. But it fucking hurts.

“Oh, poor baby.” The stranger hums beneath him. “I can’t do anything tonight, and I don’t think we should be driving in this storm, but I can make some calls, see if anyone nearby can help. Otherwise, you both can come to the clinic with me tomorrow morning. We’ll get him sorted out then.” The man holding him lets out a sigh of relief that tickles Jihoon’s ears, and he can feel them flick on their own accord. Red notices their little movements and scratches behind them with a smile.

“Thanks for your help, Hao. You think he’s okay to bathe?” Hao, but Jihoon would rather call him Red, looks him over carefully before he nods.

“Be careful with that paw and you should be okay. He doesn’t seem like much of a fighter, but just watch out with water. You’ve heard about the horror stories.” The man hums knowingly, carefully rubbing his own hand on Jihoon’s forehead. Another purr rips itself from his chest, but Jihoon doesn’t mind when it earns him some coos and some extra scratches. 

“Yell if you need help,” Red says once he’s finally taken his hands back, offering the other man a smile before he leaves. Jihoon doesn’t bother to watch where he goes, instead looking at the walls he passes as the man walks. They’re covered in pictures and art, making the apartment feel more homey than Jihoon’s own place. For some reason that Jihoon doesn’t care to dissect, it makes his heart pang.

They end up in the bathroom rather quickly and the man plugs the drain and starts the sink’s faucet. Part of his pride smarts at that, he knows he’s not a very big person or a cat even, but he still thinks he’ll be a little too big for the sink. He’s ready to pout when the man starts to speak to him, carefully unzipping his jacket as he goes.

“Sorry little buddy,” he says when he fully removes Jihoon from his jacket and sets him down on a towel on the counter, pointedly draping his bad paw over the edge, “but we gotta get you clean and dry.” He boops Jihoon’s nose, stripping off his jacket and sighing at the massive wet spot on his chest. Jihoon feels himself well with guilt, his ears pressing against his head on their own accord. The man notices his reaction and makes a soft noise, petting at his ears. “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll change after we get you clean. I’m probably gonna get wetter anyways,” he laughs, checking the water’s temperature before he turns off the tap. A bottle of Dawn is in his hand soon after, the man carefully placing it next to the sink as he smiles. 

Smiley seems like a fitting nickname, Jihoon figures, at least until he can actually figure out his name.

“So, I’m gonna put you in the sink, and you’re not gonna kick, okay?” Jihoon meows softly in place of a snort. Of course he’s not gonna kick with glass in his paw. Smiley laughs with him, reaching out to scratch at Jihoon’s ears again. He’s avoided Jihoon’s chin since the initial time, and it makes something in Jihoon’s heart warm a bit. Carefully, Smiley eases him into the basin, keeping his front paw out of the water. It’s in an instant that Jihoon realizes why he’s not in the bath, with the depth of the sink making it so much easier to support himself with only three legs while keeping his fourth out of the water, and he’s grateful for the man’s forethought. Comforted by the man’s foresight and easy demeanour, Jihoon allows himself to relax, trusting Smiley to not hurt him as he carefully works soap through his dirt caked coat. 

“You’re such a sweetie, aren’t you?” Smiley says softly, gentle in his motions as he works closer to the back of Jihoon’s ears. “You’re gonna let me get you clean with so little fuss, huh?” Jihoon meows once more, earning himself a soft laugh. “So smart, too.” Smiley is diligent and careful as he washes Jihoon up, eventually deeming a job well done as he unplugs the sink and moves Jihoon onto a towel on the counter. Humming to himself, he works on drying Jihoon carefully and well, going as far as to pull the hair dryer out at one point, his grin growing at every purr that rumbles in Jihoon’s chest. He’s half asleep again when there’s a knock on the door, Red smiling at both of them when he peaks his head in.

“So I called Doctor Choi, and he said he’d come in early for our little guest. He said swaddle him, get him warm and probably fed too, but keep him off the paw. Sound good?” Smiley hums softly, turning to Red after a moment. 

“What can we feed him?” Red pauses for a moment before he makes a small noise, disappearing from sight. Smiley shakes his head with an exasperated sort of fondness, drying Jihoon’s injured leg carefully. An open can ends up on the other side of the counter, Red smiling at both of them before he taps at the label.

“Remember when we bought canned chicken by mistake?” Smiley shivers before he looks back at Jihoon carefully. 

“How should we do this so that he doesn’t have to stand?” Red seems to ponder it for a moment before he shoots Smiley a smile. He looks at the dirty towel under Jihoon before he shrugs, turning the can over and dumping it on the cloth. 

To Jihoon, it feels like Christmas has come early. 

Even canned, the chicken is miles above anything he’s eaten in recent memory, and even though he’s trying to pace himself he still manages to scarf the whole thing quicker than he intends to. The full belly makes him terribly sleepy, but he pitifully meows at the duo in a hope that they’ll understand his wordless request for water. Red seems to understand it first, and after a moment he’s back with what looks like a shot glass, really? But hey, beggars can’t be choosers, and Jihoon finds that it’s definitely an easier vessel to drink out of in his current position, leaning over the counter. It doesn’t take long for him to feel sated, and once he’s done he finds it hard to keep his eyes open. The men trade glances before Smiley carefully reaches out, picking up Jihoon and carrying him throughout the apartment. 

“I’ll clean the bathroom later!” He calls quietly, a hum sounding from somewhere else in the dark apartment. Jihoon can’t be bothered, his tail twitching with every step until Smiley gently rests him down. With measured movements, Jihoon finds himself swaddled into a warm blanket, the battle of consciousness just getting even harder to try and win. Smiley laughs at his expression softly, pressing a kiss to Jihoon’s head. 

“We’ll get you help tomorrow, okay buddy? You can sleep until then.” Jihoon rumbles out a purr when fingers begin to scratch at his ears again, a kiss pressed to his nose. Happier and safer than he’s been since Soonyoung and Junhui were fucking idiots, Jihoon finally lets himself rest easy.

—

Jihoon gets why the vet gets so much hate now. The hospital smells are overwhelming to his little nose and everything is so cold and bright that it overwhelms him. Not to say that Doctor Choi is bad, because he’s alright, but his facilities make Jihoon wince. 

(They check to see if he has a chip while they’re there and Jihoon can only laugh. Imagine the spell buried one into him, with a whole Return to the Idiots Moon Jun and KSY. The thought is funnier than it should be.)

Doctor Choi doesn’t believe them, Red and Smiley, or Minghao and Seokmin he learns, when they tell him how docile Jihoon is. He smiles at them politely, clearly not believing the fact that a stray could be so mild mannered. But he is proven wrong when the worst things that Jihoon does, in order of events, are: 

1. make a pathetic noise when he is unswaddled and placed on the cold ass table;
2. half heartedly hiss when a needle came near him and proceeded to poke him;
3. hiss softly again when they came at him with tweezers;
4. flinch a shitton;
5. cry when it still managed to hurt, the digging and the cleaning and the wrapping hurting more than it should have.

He will admit, however, that when Doctor Choi comes at him with a cone, he loses it. This whole thing is embarrassing enough. He will not wear a cone. Eventually they give up the good fight, Doctor Choi passing on instructions and a cone as a just in case that makes Jihoon’s hackles rise. Seokmin laughs at him for it before he scoops him up, running his fingers through his newly clean and shiny coat. Jihoon flicks his tail at the feeling despite his annoyance. 

“You are one odd cat, aren’t you?” Jihoon only meows in response, allowing his eyes to close and his body to go limp as his tail playfully sways. Seokmin laughs again, walking out into the lobby before he stops. 

“Shua, hey! What’re you up to?” Jihoon looks at the new man in question before he freezes. 

Shua is his Joshua. Meaning Doctor Choi is Seungcheol’s dad. Meaning the odd stray cat that doesn’t act like a stray cat that was just picked up might catch the unwanted attention of his friends. 

He’s not going back there until he can fight back, thank you very much, and he can’t cast as a cat. He’s already tried. Repeatedly. 

Easily, Seokmin picks up on his change of mood, allowing Jihoon to hide himself in his chest with no outward reaction besides a hand petting down his spine. 

“I intern here,” Joshua says in his soft and kind voice, but Jihoon can only wait for the other shoe to drop. 

“You stop working at the shelter then?” 

“Nah, I pick up hours in my spare time.” Seokmin hums softly, still gently rubbing his fingers through Jihoons hair. Somehow he must catch Joshua’s attention based on the line of questioning that follows, and Jihoon can’t help but to clam up. 

“You adopt a cat?” Seokmin laughs in good nature, and if Jihoon weren’t so set about hiding himself he’d love to see what it makes his expression look like. 

“I found him in an alley last night, he hurt his paw.” Joshua makes an appropriately sympathetic noise, and Jihoon hears him take a few steps closer. 

“Did Doctor Choi look him over already?” Seokmin cheerily confirms, but Jihoon isn’t really paying attention anymore. Joshua is closing in on him, and he’s convinced it’s only a matter of time until he’s discovered. They’re bound to know this is where he’s gone, and as suddenly as he’s appeared in his life, Seokmin will be ripped away. He finds himself preparing for the worst, listening to Joshua move mere inches away from him. This is it, this is the end of his little jaunt.

Until someone barges in the front door, screeching so loudly it hurts Jihoon’s ears. Seokmin shushes him softly as Joshua excuses himself, the woman crying for an emergency vet helplessly. Seokmin takes them out, climbing into his car before he gets Jihoon settled into the passenger seat. There’s a knock on the window before Seokmin even starts the car, and Jihoon blinks his eyes open to see Minghao smiling. 

“I put some extra supplies in the trunk for him, just some litter and boxes and stuff that have been here longer than me. You think you can take care of him yourself?” Seokmin only smiles as he starts the car and shuts the door, rolling the window down. 

“He seems like a pretty easy guy. But I’ll call if anything comes up.” Minghao smiles and nods, saying goodbye to both of them before he rushes back inside the clinic. Seokmin turns back to him with a smile, scratching at his cheeks. “You really are an easy guy, aren’t you?” A small sound escapes Jihoon that makes Seokmin coo, but he doesn’t bother feeling embarrassed by it. Instead he lets sleep overtake him, warm in Seokmin’s passenger seat and safe in his care. 

—

Jihoon is living a life of luxury. Seokmin works from home, or so it seems, settling down at a desk in his room and only moving for drinks, snacks, and bathroom breaks. He’s typing a lot, and even though that is definitively a two handed task, Seokmin frequently frees a hand so that he may pet Jihoon, where he has taken up residence on the other man’s lap. 

Jihoon can’t help but to purr at the soft touches. He’s not even embarrassed when it makes Seokmin grin. Even when it’s outed that Seokmin’s on a video call and the rest of his coworkers, or so Jihoon assumes, demand to see him, he can’t even really mind. He lets Seokmin hold him up for a few moments and preens when a series of kisses are pressed into his head. 

The cat part of him is still clearly hanging around with how excited he is to get love, but Jihoon can’t really mind. He perches himself on Seokmin’s shoulder and settles there, grateful for the warmth and the vantage point it allows him. When he peers at Seokmin’s screen however, he feels his heart stop. 

There, sitting in full view with his eyes narrowed only enough for someone who knows him, someone like Jihoon to see, is none other than Yoon Jeonghan. Jihoon plays it cool, settling fully against Seokmin like he’s some odd sort of sentient scarf (Doctor Strange’s cloak comes to mind and he laughs internally) and allowing his eyes to slip closed. He doesn’t even react when Jeonghan speaks, just purring when Seokmin scratches that spot behind his ears. 

“He’s cute. Is he yours?” Jihoon can feel Seokmin shake his head even as he tries not to bother him. 

“No, I’m just keeping an eye on him until we can get him home. But we should get back to this,” Seokmin finishes, clearly turning back to his work and forcing Jeonghan to follow suit. Jihoon’s grateful that he at least managed to dodge most of that bullet, and with that thought in mind he allows himself to fall asleep once more. 

—

Somehow, Jihoon manages not to hurt himself further despite his relentless movement. Minghao carefully inspects his paw and looks it over before he’s doing something that makes it sting, a soft noise escaping Jihoon before he can do anything about it. Immediately Minghao apologizes, and though Jihoon appreciates it he knows it isn’t really necessary. In an attempt to make Minghao feel better, he uses his good paw to catch his hand and bumps his nose into it repeatedly, going as far as to purr as he looks up at the man. 

“Oh, are you saying thank you?” Jihoon meows, pleased with the smile it earns him. Minghao scratches at his cheek gently before he places a kiss between his ears, his smile fond as he pulls away. “You’re welcome, buddy. Now let me wrap this and you’ll be good to go, okay?” Jihoon meows once more, allowing Minghao to work with only a few noises of displeasure. 

Minghao eventually gives him the okay, pressing a gentle kiss to Jihoon’s paw and then his forehead. Jihoon is careful as he moves to sit, still keeping his foot off of the floor even as he toters. He’s sure he’s a pitiful sight based on how Minghao coos at him. 

“You’re okay buddy. I wrapped it well enough that you should be okay.” Jihoon still doesn’t move, far too aware of how much it hurts. Instead he meows at Minghao pitifully, sure that his eyes are wide as he watches him start to step away. Minghao can’t even make it to the doorway before Jihoon’s crying loud enough for Seokmin to hear and come running, assessing the situation before he laughs softly. 

“Do you want me to carry you?” Jihoon meows gently, curling into Seokmin’s hold the second that he can. Seokmin laughs and Jihoon is certain that he’s shaking his head, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Instead he simply sprawls out in Seokmin’s hold, allowing his paw to hang down and shoving his nose in the crook of Seokmin’s elbow. He doesn’t mean to do it, but sleep welcomes him like an old friend and, well, turning it away would be poor manners. Yeah, very poor manners, or something like that.

After he wakes from his nap in Seokmin’s hold, Jihoon slowly starts to hunt for water, whimpering when he puts weight on his paw. It hurts to walk on, but even when he bullies Minghao into checking it again and again as it continues to sting, he’s still given the green light to wander around. Minghao inspects his paw at least twice a day and nods at what he sees, telling Jihoon about how grateful he is that somehow it doesn’t seem like his cut got infected. 

The next few days promise an ease of existence for Jihoon. Thankfully, his paw seems to begin to heal exceptionally well, at least according to Minghao, and before he knows it he can actually explore the apartment without fear of hurting himself further, even if it aches and stings and stabs and sometimes even burns. It’s something that he can manage and somehow ignore, and to be able to explore the apartment helps to ease his tumultuous emotions and put him more at ease. It’s something to think about that’s not his current situation, which helps him more than he could ever think.

He admittedly has a lot of fun with his newfound freedom, playing fetch with some small toys that Minghao brought home or climbing to places he shouldn’t be. Even if he gets scolded for being on a high shelf, Jihoon doesn’t knock anything over or cause any more trouble than he does by just existing (and the treatment for his paw, but he doesn’t think that counts). He’s clean and mild mannered, but apparently “adorably” finicky about his food. 

So he won’t eat cat food. You wouldn’t want to either. 

But of course, things come to a grinding halt when Seokmin takes his leave from the apartment, leaving him alone with Minghao. The second the door is shut Minghao is cornering him, and Jihoon lets out a pathetic sound as he’s picked up. He doesn’t try to fight but he makes his displeasure clear, trying his best to glare at Minghao as soon as he’s set down. 

“Listen,” Minghao starts lowly, and Jihoon forces himself to sit and actually listen, his weight mostly off his bad paw with how terribly it hurts today, “are you a familiar? Or a shifter, even?” Jihoon blinks. That is not where he expected this conversation to go. 

“Seok and I, we know about what happens in the shadows, alright? And if you really are a familiar, we should get you home buddy.” Jihoon unintentionally lets out a little noise as he lays down, resting his chin on his crossed legs. It makes sense with the books and knick knacks that they have displayed that Minghao and Seokmin are involved in the less than normal things, but Jihoon still isn’t sure what his best play here is. His tail is flicking in displeasure thanks to his inner turmoil, and Jihoon can see the exact moment that Minghao misinterprets Jihoons reaction. 

“Oh, shit, did they kick you out?” He sounds angry and aghast, like he couldn’t believe it were to happen to a cat like him. But the question still startles him slightly and he feels himself still, giving Minghao the answer he’s looking for rather than the truth. 

“Oh, you poor thing. You can stay with us then, for however long you want, okay?” Despite how he wants to tell Minghao that no, he isn’t a familiar and he wasn’t kicked to the curb, he finds himself unable to when Minghao scratches that spot and leaves him a puddle of melted, purring goo. 

Jihoon has perched himself on Minghao’s head, both of them watching some random show that Minghao put on. The only reason Jihoon’s on the man’s head is quite simple: Minghao feels so terrible about what “happened” to kitty Jihoon that he’s letting him get away with bloody murder. Besides, it’s warm here on his little perch. And Minghao is letting him play with his hair, batting at the bright red cowlicks. It’s actually quite fun, and it doesn’t make his paw hurt worse. A win win.

The door opens behind them and neither of them bother to really move, Minghao calling out a casual greeting and Jihoon flicking his tail around. He listens as Seokmin says hello back, shoes being kicked off and a snort sounding throughout the room when he must round the corner and catch sight of him. 

“Letting him roost in your hair, Hao?” Minghao sighs and Jihoon would bet good money on him having rolled his eyes. 

“Listen, I think he might be a familiar.” Seokmin makes an intrigued noise and sits next to them, carefully running his hands through Jihoon’s hair, much to his delight. 

“I had a similar thought, but what makes you say that now? Does it have to go with why he’s on your head?” Minghao sighs this time, carefully reaching up and removing Jihoon from his head. He meows as annoyed as he can, earning himself a soft laugh from Seokmin before he’s placed down on their coffee table. Jihoon watches them both carefully, hoping that Minghao doesn’t ask him anymore questions - he’s beyond frustrated with his lack of ability to answer. 

“Look at him. He clearly understands us, and when I asked him about going home or getting kicked out, he stiffened the same way he is now.” Jihoon freezes before he realizes that Minghao is absolutely correct. Well, that doesn’t help his case. Seokmin holds out a hand and Jihoon practically burrows his way into it, grateful for the comforting touch even as it scratches his chin. The ticklish feeling makes him sneeze, which is fine, until he opens his eyes. The room has gone silent and for good reason too. 

Seokmin’s hand is pink. And not a cute pink either. Bright, nine year old in a tutu with a magic wand and doused in glitter pink.

Panicking, Jihoon races away from the table, forcing his way into Seokmin’s room and hiding under the bed in the farthest corner from the door. He curls himself into a ball as he continues to think fuck fuck fuck, listening with dread as two sets of footsteps start to walk down the hall. 

Jihoon’s not sure what untamed spell he just snot rocketed out of his body, seeing as he’s never even seen it before. But the idea that he can do untamed magic has something in him soothing slightly — if he can cast a little now, something must be happening with the spell. Soon he should be able to cast in full, and maybe even get the chance to rip Junhui and Soonyoung both a new one. Dangle them over a pit while he sips on some lemonade and reads, their plentiful apologies acting as music to his ears. He’s lost in his thoughts when the footsteps enter the room, his eyes locking onto Seokmin’s bright blue socks as he feels his ears press themselves into his skull. 

Both Seokmin and Minghao bend down and peer under the bed, Minghao turning to Seokmin with a clear see what I mean? expression. Jihoon can’t blame him for his train of thought; if he didn’t know he wasn’t actually a cat, he’d assume the same thing. 

“Hey, buddy,” Minghao soothes, reaching in part way under the bed, holding his fingers out and still. “We’re not mad, lovie. You’re okay.” Seokmin manages to wiggle his own arm under the bed as well, hand still pink from Jihoon’s rogue spell. He cringes at the thought and feels guilt eat away at his bones, pressing himself further against the wall as he tries to steady himself on his shaky legs and burning paw - his panicked sprint seems to have done something wretched to his poor little paw. 

“Pink is my favorite color,” Seokmin says softly, wiggling his fingers gently at Jihoon. “Will you come out? I won’t scratch under your chin anymore, if you don’t want me to.” Well, even if it was ticklish, Jihoon liked his chin scratches. They were nice and soft and gentle, and it’s that thought that has him slowly approaching Seokmin’s wiggly fingers. He rubs his cheek against Seokmin’s forefinger before he rests his chin on top of the man’s thumb, blinking at him slowly and waiting for him to get the hint. 

“I think he wants chin scratches, dude.” Seokmin looks between Minghao and Jihoon carefully before he slowly starts to move his thumb around. Though still ticklish they’re actually pretty nice, and Jihoon lets himself go practically boneless under the bed. They coo at him and Jihoon can’t help but to preen a bit, proud that his cat self is so inherently likable. 

“Will you come out now?” Jihoon blinks his eyes open, looking between the two of them carefully. His mini freak out seems to have settled and he doesn’t want to keep worrying his friends. So he simply decides to listen, limping out from under the bed with a soft little meow. Seokmin picks him up and presses a firm kiss to his head in an instant, which he can’t figure out why it feels odd really, until he realizes that Seokmin still thinks that he had had an abusive owner. He feels worse about everything with that thought, and he can only wish that he could tell them both the truth. 

“Maybe we should stop looking for his last owner,” Minghao says softly, but they all know what he means. Jihoon feels his ears droop all the same and he hides his nose in his paws, beyond upset that he’s practically peddling a lie that he has no hope in stopping. They both seem concerned about his new position but Jihoon can’t really do anything about it, far too guilty about what’s going on for his own damn good. 

“That’s probably for the best,” Seokmin agrees, scratching at Jihoon’s ears once more before he shifts Jihoon, looking at him carefully. “Is that what you want, buddy?” Jihoon mrrps, which he didn’t know he could do, and Minghao and Seokmin trade fond looks. Vaguely, he finds himself wondering what they take his little noise for, an agreement or a disagreement, before he lets the idea fade. 

Without another thought, Jihoon allows himself to go boneless in Seokmin’s hold, yawning slightly. It seems like whatever that rogue spell was took more out of him than he ever expected, and without another word he feels Seokmin gently rest him down on the bed. He mrrps once more, going as far as to meow unhappily at the pair until Seokmin finally sits down next to him. Jihoon then bullies him into laying down by butting at his stomach and tugging at his shirt, curling himself up under Seokmin’s chin the second he can. Both men are laughing right now but Jihoon can’t care, he’s warm and comfortable and happy. God, he’s so happy. 

“I think he’s claimed you,” Minghao says with a laugh and Jihoon huffs until there are fingers tracing up his spine. 

“He just might have,” Seokmin says back, his voice easy and kind. Deciding there is no such thing as shame when you’re a cat, Jihoon licks at Seokmin’s chin a few times before he settles back down, purring like a motorboat the second Seokmin starts to scratch behind his ears. Happily curled up and without a care in the world, Jihoon allows himself to drift off. 

—

There’s a windowsill in the apartment that Jihoon loves. It has the best sun of anywhere else in the apartment and it’s tucked away from view. He’s even managed to kidnap a blanket from the couch (Minghao had called it an eyesore, so Jihoon didn’t think it would be missed) to make his hidey hole even comfier. He curls up there in times like these, when both men are out of the apartment and Jihoon is left to his own devices. Sometimes they leave a show on for him, which he appreciates, and sometimes the radio, which they often laugh when they find him asleep next to it, but today it’s just him and the apartment. He doesn’t mind, not really, when he gets to bury himself in his now favorite blanket (it’s fuzzy and pink and terribly warm) and sleep.

Jihoon’s sleeping there when his ears begin to twitch, footsteps approaching the door casually. He doesn’t bother to worry about it, far too happy in his little alcove, not moving in the slightest even as the door opens. 

“Buddy?” It’s Seokmin’s voice, and if Jihoon had to say, he’d figure that “Buddy” is his name now. Not the worst thing in the world, definitely not. Besides, whenever Seokmin or Minghao say it, they’re so soft and gentle with the word that he can’t even mind. 

“Buddy? Are you asleep?” Plus, they’ve started watching Cake Boss, and Jihoon doesn’t mind his namesake. Seokmin makes a confused noise, the sound of his bag hitting the floor in the kitchen as his footsteps slowly make their way around the apartment. 

“I brought you home a treat, baby.” That’s a new one, the soft baby tacked onto the words, and if Jihoon’s honest, he loves it. He blinks his eyes open and stretches, meowing as he goes. Seokmin makes his way to the couch, and when Jihoon pops his head over the armrest, it’s to see him looking terribly confused. It’s so cute that Jihoon ends up laughing internally, sure that his tail is flicking around in good humor. His movement seems to catch Seokmin’s eyes and the man laughs when he sees him, settling down next to him on the couch and scratching at his ears. Almost like an instinct, Jihoon finds himself flopping back down on his blanket and turning around until his tummy is up. Seokmin laughs at him some more as he complies with the silent request, gently petting Jihoon’s tummy even as he laughs. 

“You got a sick set up here, huh baby?” Jihoon only purrs in response, batting at Seokmin’s wrist with his good paw playfully. Seokmin indulges him, wiggling his fingers a little above Jihoon and allowing him to bat at his fingers as he plays. 

“You’re such a sweetie,” Seokmin starts softly and sadly, putting Jihoon on edge in a moment. “How’d you end up on the street?” God, the guilt is almost unbearable. But Jihoon forces himself to calm down and chill out, only making a soft noise at Seokmin as he continues to play with his fingers. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t keep asking you about it, but it just doesn’t make any sense.” Jihoon does the only thing he can think of, he grabs hold of one of Seokmin’s fingers and begins to nibble it. Seokmin’s little yelp seems to be enough to pause that train of thought which Jihoon counts as a success. 

Until he feels a sneeze coming on.

Loathe to dye Seokmin’s hand pink again, Jihoon scrambles to get his feet under him, curling up in a corner as soon as he can and burying his nose in his body, going as far as to cover it with his paws. Seokmin sounds scared as he calls out baby but Jihoon does everything in his power not to react, his nose tickling so fiercely that it’s making him want to scream. Finally, finally, Jihoon sneezes, violently lurching with the force of thing. It’s silent for a few moments until there’s giggling, Seokmin’s fingers gently tracing the edges of his ears and making them twitch.

“Baby, were you trying to keep from dying me pink again?” Jihoon mrrps, slowly uncovering his eyes and blinking at Seokmin carefully. Seokmin coos at him, picking him up with a careful hold and cradling him to his chest, making purrs rumble throughout Jihoon’s entire frame happily. “Thank you baby.” Jihoon preens.

If you had told him three months ago that he’d be so excited to be held and loved and called baby by a practical stranger, he would’ve cursed you to hell or high water - whatever was more inconvenient for you. But here he is, happy to be held by Seokmin, enjoying the kisses being pressed between his ears and even the one pressed firmly to his nose. Though the feeling catches him off guard, Jihoon has to admit that he loves it.

—

Jihoon’s annoyed with his paw. It was healing well, sure, but then he somehow tore it partially open again. He needed more stitches and they gave him pain medicine this time that made him woozy and weak, so he parked his ass on Seokmin’s lap and refused to move. Seokmin refused to move him, too. (He’d never admit it, but it makes Jihoon’s heart melt.)

Though that may have been due to the fact he couldn’t stop crying whenever a sharp pang shot up his leg. It was often enough for a heartbroken expression to flood Seokmin’s features, and Jihoon feels terribly guilty about making him worry more. But it hurts so terribly that he can’t help but to cry. 

“I’m sorry I can’t take away the pain, baby.” Jihoon makes a soft noise, it’s not Seokmin’s fault after all. If anything, Seokmin is his saving grace here. He’s the one who took Jihoon in from off the street and helped him to get better and has taken such good care of him. Carefully Jihoon manages his way to his feet, staying off of his injured foot even as he wobbles terribly, trying to drape himself across Seokmin’s body as well as he can. 

“Oh hi, baby,” Seokmin teases, gently rubbing behind Jihoon’s ears and smoothing over his back. Softly Jihoon meows, pressing himself even closer to Seokmin’s chest and just melting there. “Comfortable?” This time Jihoon purrs, more than happy to be cuddling Seokmin. But Seokmin doesn’t stop there, moving carefully so that he doesn’t dislodge Jihoon but shifting enough for his chest to be flatter and a lot easier to balance on. Jihoon finds that his heart swells, so he does the first thing he can think to do — bumps his nose into Seokmin’s jaw, littering little licks in replacement of true kisses on his jaw and cheek and chin, somehow even managing to get the underside of Seokmin’s nose. Said man laughs so hard that Jihoon finds himself worried that he might lose his footing on Seokmin’s chest but he can’t honestly say that he minds, the joyful expression and the scrunched up nose and the plethora of giggles help soothe Jihoon’s soul and even further endear Seokmin to him. 

“Ah, you’re welcome baby,” Seokmin giggles, smoothing a hand down Jihoon’s spine. Jihoon is happy to splay across Seokmin’s chest even further, purring up a storm as Seokmin continues to pet him. 

“Y’know,” Seokmin starts softly, his voice a little sad. Jihoon can’t help but to stiffen slightly, blinking up at Seokmin and meowing carefully, worried about what Seokmin’s building up to, “I’m really glad I found you in that night.” Oh. Oh. Of course Jihoon is glad that Seokmin found him too, especially versus the alternative. But the way that Seokmin’s started this line of thought has Jihoon’s hackles rising - whatever it is can’t be good. Seokmin lets out a heavy sigh and Jihoon is instantly on the defensive, rubbing his face against Seokmin’s jaw in hope to make him feel better. He does succeed in making Seokmin laugh softly which he counts easily as a win.

“My boyfriend just broke up with me,” he eventually says softly, his tone muted as if it were a painting faded in the sun. “Not ‘just’, but like, recently,” he amends with a sigh, petting a hand down Jihoon’s back and holding his other hand up to Jihoon. Carefully, Jihoon uses his good paw to curl around one of Seokmin’s fingers, mrrp ing softly as he blinks up at him. Seokmin cracks a smile, wiggling his fingers to in turn wiggle Jihoon’s paw. 

“It was a pretty toxic thing, by the end of it.” Jihoon feels his eyes widen and pity sink in his heart, and he’s instantly rubbing his face against Seokmin’s jaw once more. Seokmin sighs softly, carefully petting Jihoon’s cheek with his thumb. “I dunno how it happened, but it was really pretty bad before I managed to get out. He was great for a while, but then every text I sent to someone else was questioned and if I didn’t respond within like, the minute, he’d get so pissed. It was just so exhausting to know I was gonna get out of a meeting and have 50 missed calls and 100 texts and like, threats even.” Jihoon finds himself stilling, panic seeping into his bones before it turns to anger. Seokmin easily catches on to his change of heart and shakes his head, sighing as he stares at the ceiling. 

“They weren’t against me, baby,” Seokmin whispers and suddenly Jihoon understands what’s happening. It doesn’t make it any better, but Jihoon isn’t trying to think of ways to tear out this man’s jugular anymore. (That isn’t to say he isn’t thinking about fighting the man anyways, not at all. He just isn’t sure that death is required so quickly.)

“I tried to tell him what he was doing was kinda fucked up and he just, well, he lost it.” Seokmin seems so sad that Jihoon wants to magic it all better. But he’s not sure as to how he would even manage that, so instead he tries to wiggle his way up Seokmin’s chest so that he can press his cheek against Seokmin’s own. His silly little actions pull a chuckle from Seokmin before he slowly shifts, keeping Jihoon off his bad paw and placing careful kisses to his cheeks and nose when Jihoon whimpers in pain. 

“Sorry baby.” Again, an apology isn’t really necessary, so Jihoon gently taps at Seokmin’s face before he rubs his own against it, licking the tip of his nose again just to prove a point. As he laughs Seokmin helps to get Jihoon settled on a pillow, lying across from Seokmin so that he can finally look the other man in the eye. Once they’re settled Jihoon bats around until Seokmin lifts a hand that Jihoon catches easily, tugging it towards himself and refusing to stop until it’s resting against his side. Purrs rip themselves from his chest and Jihoon can’t seem to mind, especially not when the noise earns him an easy smile from Seokmin and a kiss to his nose. 

“But yeah,” Seokmin starts with a sigh, his expression falling as he slowly rubs his thumb over Jihoon’s cheek, “it was really ugly by the end. I didn’t even realize how terrible it was until my friends all kept saying how glad they were to actually see me again and I remembered that before we were together I wouldn’t cry myself to sleep every night.” A sad little mrrp is all Jihoon can manage, desperately wishing that he were human and that he could take away the pain. 

“Yeah, I know. I probably wouldn’t have seen anyone but him if I didn’t live with Minghao. But we broke up and things started getting better, so I can’t really complain.” Jihoon wiggles until he’s pressing his face fully into Seokmin’s cheek, rubbing it against Seokmin’s face in hopes that it at least somewhat helps to comfort him. Based on the soft little laugh he receives, he figures he must be at least somewhat successful.

“I was having a real hard time with it,” Seokmin eventually says, mumbling as if he were half asleep. Jihoon wouldn’t have been shocked if he were. “But then,” Seokmin blinks his eyes open and his gaze is fond and gentle, the little smile that plays on his lips endears Seokmin to Jihoon even more. “But then I found you. And you’ve helped me to stop reliving all that shit,” he says with a sad huff, “so. Thank you for that, baby.”

Jihoon feels his heart swell before it bursts, because, well. It’s not like he’s really doing much. He’s cursed. He’s a cat. If Seokmin were complimenting him, like Jihoon himself, then this would be a whole different story. His presence helping ease the pain that Seokmin was feeling, just helping him not to have to focus on the fucking asshole, is something that Jihoon doesn’t take lightly. He loves being able to help his friends however possible. But, there’s something about it, being a person underneath his cat exterior, that has him wincing at the thought. It feels like he’s taking advantage of Seokmin and his kindness and his emotions. 

Seokmin must misunderstand his wince as one born of pain, carefully cooing at him and tucking Jihoon under his chin. A hand smoothes over his back as Seokmin hums softly, and the exhaustion from the earlier events, the drugs and the stitches, finally catches up to Jihoon. Purring softly and comforted by Seokmin despite the guilt strangling his heart, Jihoon finds himself dozing off.

—

It’s when he’s home alone a few days later that Jihoon finally realizes it; if he can snot rocket random spells, he might be able to do something about his paw. Today, Seokmin and Minghao left him tucked in on a bed next to the window, something Minghao had brought home after he fucked up his paw again and was having trouble jumping from the couch to the floor and vice versa. So, with no fear of damaging actual furniture, Jihoon looks at his wrapped paw with determination. 

First things first, to tear off the wrapping. It’ll be easier to heal it if he can see what he’s working with, he figures, so he uses his sharp little teeth and works on slitting the wrapping. It’s beyond tiring but he eventually gets it done, allowing himself to lay on his side for a few minutes until he can get his breathing under control again. God this fucking hurts. 

Secondly, he has to actually look at his paw. It’s a bit of a mess, if he’s honest, and the sight makes him cringe. It’s no surprise that it hurts as much as it does, the cut jagged and oozing. With a deep breath, Jihoon manages to look it over fully, poking at it and assessing it as best as he can without opposable thumbs and the like. 

Finally, Jihoon forces himself to recall the best and easiest healing spell he knows, closing his eyes and muttering the incantations in his head, praying that it translates to cat without a hiccup. When a tingling sensation settles over his paw he feels himself sigh, slowly opening up his eyes as he peaks at his paw. It worked, or so it seems, the jagged cut no longer oozing but instead a freshly healed and sort of irritated red. Jihoon’s sure it’s bound to scar like a bitch, but when he gently presses it against the floor it doesn’t seem to do too much more than ache. 

Considering it a win and beyond wiped, Jihoon curls up on his sun covered bed and allows himself to sleep. 

—

“Shit, Buddy.” It’s Minghao’s voice that pulls him from his slumber, and he can’t help but to be surprised he didn’t wake up at the sound of the door. Casting really must have worn him out a lot more than he thought possible. A hand pets down his back and Jihoon lets out a groggy meow, fingers scratching behind his ears. 

“Can I see your paw? It must hurt.” Jihoon blinks his eyes open, rolling slightly so that he may look at Minghao. The redhead is looking at him with a soft expression before he gently rubs at Jihoon’s cheek, smiling at the happy noise that Jihoon makes. Carefully, Minghao traces down Jihoon’s leg with his fingertips, watching Jihoon’s expression as he nears his injured paw. Jihoon lets it happen, watching Minghao back as he finally takes hold of Jihoon’s achy paw. When he turns to look at it, his shock is clear as day. 

“This is healed.” Patiently, Jihoon waits for the other shoe to drop. 

“You can cast. Like, actually cast.” It’s not a question, but Jihoon still meows, flicking his tail around. Minghao’s eyes narrow for a moment before he rubs at his face, blinking back at Jihoon a few more times. 

“No familiar I know could ever do anything like this. But why would you wait to heal this if you could all along? Why suffer longer than you have to?” He’s pretty sure it’s just surprise, shock from seeing Jihoon having healed himself, but there’s something in Minghao’s voice that has him terribly on edge. Jihoon’s hackles can only rise when Minghao’s narrowed eyes go wide. 

“You’re,” he starts, stumbling away from Jihoon and leaving the latter to scramble to get his feet under himself, “you’re some sort of witch, aren’t you?” Shock, confusion, anger, betrayal — Jihoon can’t tell which one it is. But he can feel his body tensing, waiting for Minghao’s next words and ready to bolt at an instant. 

“Fuck, I gotta call Seok. Shit, what the actual fuck?” 

As much as it pains his heart, the words are the final nail in Jihoon’s coffin. Instantly he’s sprinting out of the room, desperately trying to find a way out of the apartment with the front door closed. His slight head start is ruined when Minghao must finally notice him missing, and Jihoon finds himself trapped in Minghao’s bedroom with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Footsteps are rushing towards him and Jihoon feels panic seize his mind, his eyes catching on the vent in the floor as Minghao enters the room. 

But, because Jihoon physically can’t catch a break, he sneezes. 

When he regains his senses, much to his horror he finds himself stuck. Trapped. The walls are barely Jihoon sized and his hips and butt feel beyond crushed. No amount of wiggling helps him to move, and even more freaked out than before, Jihoon finds himself yowling. 

“Buddy?!” He lets out another pitiful cry, Minghao cursing softly as Jihoon hears him drop to his knees, metal scraping somewhere behind him. “You’re gonna be okay Buddy, I promise. Just focus on breathing.” Jihoon does his best to follow instructions, hiding his face in his paws in hopes to quell some of his fear. 

He’s never liked enclosed spaces. This one is by far the worst he’s ever been in. 

“Seok, you gotta come home. Buddy’s stuck in a vent.” Jihoon thinks he hears Seokmin curse but he ignores that too, no longer bothering to bite back his whimpers or cries. He’s going to have a panic attack in this vent if he can’t get a grip, which is looking more and more unlikely. 

“Buddy, hey,” Minghao starts gently and Jihoon forces himself to focus on his voice. “Are you hurt? Meow or whatever once for yes, twice for no.” After a shuddering breath, Jihoon whimpers twice. 

“That’s good, that’s really good then. Seokmin will be home in a little bit, okay? I’m  sort of terrible at spatial magic, and I don’t wanna crush you.” That makes sense, Jihoon reasons, pressing his face into his paws a little harder. “You think you can wait for him?” Carefully, Jihoon meows, softening ever so slightly when he hears Minghao’s relieved sigh. 

“Y’know Buddy, I’m not mad,” Minghao starts gently after a few minutes have crept by, panic slowly starting to engulf Jihoon entirely. If he doesn’t get out soon, he’s worried he’s going to pass out in this god forsaken vent. “That’s what made you run, right? You thought I was mad?” Jihoon can’t bite back his whimper. 

“Oh baby.” Minghao sounds absolutely heartbroken and Jihoon feels guilt mix with his panic, both desperately trying to choke him out. The feelings leave him breathless and he starts to make an odd sort of hiccuping noise as he desperately tries to breathe, Minghao cooing at him immediately before he suddenly stops. 

“Oh no, are you claustrophobic?” Jihoon can’t be sure what gave him away, but whatever it was was definitely true. Softly he whimpers, still having to fight for every single breath. “Oh shit.” Once again Jihoon whimpers, but this time it’s met with a little sort of hysterical laugh. 

“You’ll be okay, lovie. I promise, alright?” Unfortunately for everyone involved, Jihoon feels his nose start to burn. Wincing preemptively and sure that he’s crying pretty loudly out of simple fear, Jihoon sneezes. 

When he forces his eyes open and still sees that he’s in a vent, he curses colorfully.

Sure, sneeze yourself into a fucking vent but don’t sneeze yourself out cuz that would be fucking nice. He’s grumbling when he hears Minghao gasp, freezing where he’s stuck at the sound. Whatever it is, it’s not good.

“What…? Buddy do that again, yeah?” Oh. Oh no. Jihoon’s heart stops.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he mutters, and his ears perking at the sound of his own voice. Well, it’s sort of his, sort of weird with the misuse and, oh, the fact he’s still a fucking cat. But still, he can speak. What the fuck. 

“Buddy, hey, can you hear me?” After a deep breath, Jihoon meows softly, sure that his fear comes across in the noise. “Yeah, you’re okay. Listen, if you don’t wanna talk you don’t need to talk, okay? I’ve never made you do anything you didn’t want to, have I?” There’s a pause that Jihoon takes to breathe before Minghao moves suddenly. “But treating your paw does not count, Buddy! We didn’t even use the cone!” Somehow, despite it all, Jihoon laughs. The sound is wet and pretty human if he had to say so, but Minghao doesn’t comment on it. Instead he hums softly, clearly trying to keep Jihoon calm throughout everything. 

Jihoon can only be grateful that Minghao’s such a good person.

“Would you feel better if I keep talking? Should I tell you a story?” Jihoon considers it carefully. His breathing is hard to keep track of, but he’s not sure that if it will help to have something else to focus on will make it any easier. But, well, he doesn’t think it’ll hurt, not exactly, so after a few moments he meows quietly. 

“So we have this neighbor downstairs, right. His name’s Mingyu, and he’s like a glorified potions master crack cooker extravaganza. It’s why we aren’t worried that you’re here, if Mingyu can cook crack we can have a cat in a no pets apartment.” Jihoon feels himself laugh a little, sure that he’s picking up a bit of softness and even more fondness in the exasperated voice. “He’s a touch insane, hence, y’know, the crack kitchen, but he’s also just, God, I wish I could describe it.” If Jihoon wasn’t sure before, he is now. Minghao is definitely enamoured by the guy downstairs. It would be cute, Jihoon figures, if he could see what his expression actually looked like. But alas, Jihoon is still Stuck. In. A. Vent. 

The reality is starting to settle around him like a soaked woolen blanket, like concrete blocks chained to his ankles. The panic is back in full and Jihoon thinks he can feel himself start to shake. He’s desperate to focus on Minghao’s words but he’s not sure that he really can, doing his best to force his breathing to stabilize. A full out panic attack will only make everything worse.  

“Hey Buddy?” Minghao clearly catches on to his quickening breaths again, cooing softly as he calls Jihoon attention back to him. “Seok just messaged me. It’ll only be a few more minutes, okay? He’s only a few blocks away. Do you think you can hold on for that long?” Despite the panic clawing at his throat and attempting to strangle him, Jihoon manages a whimper. “I think, once we get you out, that I’m gonna go downstairs and see if Mingyu has anything to help calm you down. Would you want me to do that?” Once more, Jihoon manages a whimper. Minghao lets out a soft breath in response. 

“Okay then Buddy, I’ll do that. I can even do it earlier, you know, I can manage to do it while you’re with Seokmin, so that way I have it when you get out. Would that be better?” Jihoon considers his options, glad that Mingao isn’t making the decisions for him. But then again, if Minghao were, he wouldn’t have to actually decide what he wants to do. After a period of silence besides Jihoon’s still admittedly panicked breathing, Minghao sighs softly. “We can reevaluate later, okay?” Carefully, Jihoon whimpers. 

“It’s alright Buddy, it’s okay,” Minghao’s soothing when the front door bursts open. The sound makes Jihoon jump, which makes him even more aware of how small the vent is, which leads him to cry beyond the point of stopping. 

“Baby?!” Seokmin sounds panicked as he rushes towards the room, but Jihoon can’t find any relief in his voice. Not right now. Not while he’s struggling to survive, let alone calm down. 

“He’s not doing well, Seok,” Minghao says softly, and Jihoon listens to how they begin to shuffle. There’s shifting and scuffling and cussing, so much cussing, that prick Jihoon’s ears. Eventually he hears the soft touch of fingertips to the vent’s metal, a deep breath almost echoing throughout the space.

“So baby,” Seokmin starts gently, “I’m gonna make the vent bigger, okay? And then we’ll see if you need help getting out past that, okay?” Jihoon whimpers carefully, and Minghao quickly relays their new communication to Seokmin. They both sigh softly with his affirmative, and a few muttered remarks pass between them. A few moments later there’s another deep breath before Seokmin’s steady voice is softly caressing his ears once more. 

“You’re gonna be okay baby. I’m gonna start making the vent bigger now, okay?” Jihoon takes a deep breath, ignoring how it shakes and shivers in his chest, and he meows softly. There’s a shiver that runs through him as what must be Seokmin’s magic infiltrates the metal and surrounds him, the feeling so foreign and extraordinary that he’s not sure what to do with it.

Jihoon has never felt so comforted being swirled around and blanketed in someone else’s magic. There are wives’ tales about it, about how there are people whose magic is so complimentary that it feels like home and how the stars destined them to be together in a myriad of ways, but Jihoon wasn't ever sure that he ever believed them. But here, surrounded by something so warm and loving, he finds himself reconsidering those thoughts. It’s this line of thought that distracts him just enough to not be bothered by the enclosed space, even as it shudders and maybe even squeezes around him before it balloons. 

“Baby?” It’s gently called out and Jihoon finds his way back to the present, opening his eyes to see just how insanely wide the space is now. He can even turn around, which the thought has him jumping for joy internally. “Baby can you make it out?” Jihoon meows, the sound stronger than it has been since he got himself trapped. Soothed by Seokmin’s magic and encouraged by their soft voices, Jihoon slowly and steadily makes his way through the vent. His eyes sting from the light when he finally makes his way to the end, meowing softly as he pokes his head out. 

“Hao, can you grab him?” Seokmin says softly, though there’s something in his voice that cues Jihoon into the fact that Seokmin isn’t necessarily doing well. He’s instantly on edge, eyes glued to Seokmin’s face and trying to decipher his expression even as Minghao lifts him out of the vent.

“Buddy…?” Minghao asks softly, but Seokmin has sagged where he was sitting, his breathing beyond heavy as he pulls his hand out of the vent. Eventually he rolls over and pants, and the second that Minghao has placed his paws on the floor, he’s slipping out of the man’s hold and pawing at Seokmin in seconds. 

“Hi baby,” Seokmin mumbles and Jihoon is panicking once more, meowing at Minghao desperately as he looks between him and Seokmin. 

“I know Buddy, I know,” Minghao shushes, moving to look over Seokmin even as he runs a hand down Jihoon’s spine. “He’ll be okay.” Jihoon isn’t sure that he believes him, and instantly he’s forcing his way onto Seokmin’s chest and purring as best as he can. He’s not sure how to comfort him otherwise, but his mind catches on the way that Seokmin’s magic made him feel. 

Hoping that maybe he can do something similar, Jihoon casts the most basic soothing spell that he can manage. 

When Seokmin freezes Jihoon knows that his magic has made itself known, but he’s not sure how it’s being perceived. Instantly he curls himself up into a tight ass ball, his nose tucked tightly into his side and covered with his paws, his tail hiding the rest of his face, ears pressed firmly to his skull. Panic is making a mess inside of him, and he refuses to move even as there are fingers that find their way behind his ears and down his spine, Minghao’s worried voice breaking the silence.  

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” Seokmin’s next breath shakes so terribly that it even moves Jihoon, and he feels even more fear eat away at him. But he’s still far too worried and shaky and traumatized to be able to run again. He is here to take what’s about to be thrown at him, and even if Seokmin wants him out, which he can’t really blame him for, he has faith that Minghao will help him find a soft place to land. 

“Can he,” Seokmin starts before he pauses to breathe, suspending Jihoon in a state of panic even moreso. Minghao hums softly and fingers gently map out the ridges of Jihoon’s spine once more. 

“Can he what, Seok?”

“Can he cast?” Jihoon feels himself whimper, tightening the ball that he’s in. 

“Yeah,” Minghao says softly, his hand never leaving Jihoon’s trembling body, “he can.” Seokmin makes such an odd noise that Jihoon feels himself shut down, and he’s even a little shocked to find that his eyes are burning in such a way that he’s sure that there are tears welling in them. 

“How?” Minghao hums ever so gently, still petting Jihoon’s back.

“I don’t think he’s ready to tell us that yet.” Unfortunately but in no way surprising, Jihoon finds himself starting to cry. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Seokmin says softly, his hand moving to smooth over Jihoon’s head and neck carefully. “Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.”

“But can you maybe move? Or I can move you? I just wanna get Seok off the floor, lovie.” It takes a few moments for Minghao’s words to digest in Jihoon’s now exhausted brain, but once they click he finds himself scrambling up and launching himself into Minghao’s hold. So he doesn’t want to be left alone right now. Sue him. His scrambling earns him a few laughs but Minghao indulges him, holding Jihoon close to his chest even as he begins to move. 

“I dunno if I can stand by myself right now but I don’t think the baby will let you put him down,” Seokmin mumbles, his voice soft from what is clearly exhaustion. The sound has Jihoon worried in an instant, the dregs of his panic attacks stirring once more and body tensing as he grows more and more uneasy. Instantly Minghao is cooing at him, gently petting behind his ears and chin carefully. He’s only a little surprised that it helps him calm down, even if it’s only a touch. 

“Yeah, I think he’s gonna be shaky for a while. Turns out he’s claustrophobic.”

“You’re kidding.” Minghao makes a sad noise. 

“Unfortunately, no. I was gonna run down to Mingyu’s, see if he has anything to help him calm down. Do you want me to ask about anything for you?” Seokmin makes a soft noise before they lapse into silence as he must clearly think about it. Jihoon takes the time to get at least somewhat of a grip on himself, pawing at Minghao’s chest when he feels as though he can finally handle himself by himself. At least for a moment, that is. 

“Buddy?” Jihoon meows softly, wiggling just enough to try and convey what he’s going for. “Oh, you wanna go down?” Jihoon meows once more, the sound sad, but it’s answer enough for Minghao who’s gently setting him down on the floor. Minghao pets him for a few minutes as he coos, ensuring that Jihoon’s okay before he moves away from the other. Though it stings to be sitting by himself, Jihoon lets it be, watching worriedly and with his tail flicking as Minghao moves Seokmin off the floor. He seems weak and almost hurt, which has a pit opening in Jihoon’s stomach, watching as they manage to get Seokmin into Minghao’s bed and comfortable. The second that he seems settled, Jihoon launches towards the bed, so guilty for hurting Seokmin and made even worse when he realizes that he doesn’t know what to do to help. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Seokmin says softly, allowing Jihoon to lay on top of his chest. He still feels so terribly guilty and anxious, turning to find Minghao and meowing at him a little pathetically in an attempt to ask what the hell is happening. 

“What is it Buddy?” Jihoon only grows more desperate, tapping at Seokmin’s chest with a paw before he’s back to almost yelling again. Minghao seems to get it after a few more pointed looks and cries, but in a moment he seems to switch into comforting mode.

“Hey, it’s okay Buddy,” Minghao starts softly, tracing lines down Jihoon’s back gently. “Sometimes certain spells aren’t too kind to our Seokminnie.” Jihoon feels his ears press flat into his skull as tears most certainly flood his eyes again. Minghao’s making a soft noise at him in a moment, doing his best to comfort Jihoon to no avail. “He’ll be okay, I promise. You both will be.” Seokmin hums this time, gently smoothing a hand over Jihoon’s back.

“It’s okay baby,” Seokmin practically whispers and Jihoon feels himself tensing up even further. Shit, the guilt is unbearable. 

“Will you be alright if I head to Mingyu’s now? It shouldn’t take very long.” Seokmin makes a noncommittal noise, sluggishly moving until he can rest a hand on Jihoon’s shoulders. 

“Baby will look out for me,” Seokmin mumbles, and Jihoon meows in agreement. Despite what seems to be an eternal conflict, Minghao just sighs, pressing kisses to both Jihoon and Seokmin’s head before he takes his leave. It’s in the quiet of Minghao’s bedroom that Jihoon finds his head spinning, desperately trying to focus on Seokmin’s ragged breathing. A thumb carefully rubs at his skull and Jihoon finds himself pressing into the kind touch, sure that his tears are finally escaping. They must be more prominent than he expected, Seokmin making a sad nose before a finger swipes at Jihoon’s cheek. 

“Oh no, baby, are you crying?” Jihoon whimpers softly, instantly being shushed by Seokmin. “What’s the matter baby?” Jihoon doesn’t want to speak. He really doesn’t. But he feels like Seokmin deserves the explanation.

Except when Jihoon opens his mouth, desperate to explain to Seokmin everything that’s happening, all that comes out is a strangled noise that’s oddly adjacent to a whimpered meow, which. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Jihoon can feel the panic returning tenfold, digging its claws into his mind once more and ripping it to shreds. He’s only vaguely aware of Seokmin’s hands on his back or his voice trying to call Jihoon’s attention. His mind is simply focused on falling apart and failing. 

He’s stuck in his tortured state for a long time, long enough that he doesn’t feel as if he can ever be calm again, when Minghao walks into the room again. Curses flood the air before Seokmin is sitting more upright, Minghao shoving a bottle into his hands before he’s crouching in front of Jihoon. 

“Can you listen, Buddy?” Somehow Jihoon manages to choke out a whimper. “Mingyu said he’s not sure how this’ll affect you. He hasn’t had any shifters try it or any familiars or anything so he’s not sure how it’ll work on an animal form. Do you still want to try it?” Even when he’s more in control, Jihoon feels like he’s trying to balance on a tightrope in the middle of a hurricane in order to keep it together. 

With one last deep breath, Jihoon meows. Minghao fumbles with another bottle, pouring some of the liquid into the cap before he holds it out to Jihoon. 

“Ready?” Jihoon goes for it, lapping up the potion before he settles back against Seokmin’s chest. He’s waiting for it to work, Minghao watching him with wide eyes and Seokmin rubbing a thumb over his back, all of them holding their breaths. It doesn’t seem to do much and Jihoon is about to ask for more when it happens.

The gods above are cruel. Jihoon is sure that they are laughing at him. 

The pain hits first, flaring red hot underneath his skin. Whimpers escape him immediately as his head begins to swim in response to the burning stabbing screaming sensations coursing through the rest of his little body. He’s nauseous and woozy, his head spinning so much that he can’t ever imagine getting a grip. Another wave of tremendous nausea hits him so terribly that he finds himself gagging.

Gods above, this is hell.

Feeling beyond shaky, Jihoon manages to get his eyes open, spying a stray towel on Minghao’s floor. Loath to barf on Seokmin, who has strangely gone very still beneath him but he asks no questions, Jihoon manages to hop (read: fall) off the bed and make his way onto the towel before he collapses. He keeps retching to the point that it hurts. 

It all hurts, hurts so much.  

“Hey baby,” Seokmin coos softly, a finger gently running over his spine. Jihoon didn’t even notice him coming closer. The deja vu is overwhelming, but at least there’s something else to think about besides the pain. “Can I pick you up?” Jihoon sinks his claws into the towel beneath him before he manages a little whimper, Seokmin’s gentle hands immediately cradling him to his chest. Thankfully the towel comes with him. Jihoon can only find himself extremely grateful when he ends up puking. It’s bad, but at least it’s not as bad as it could be. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Seokmin mumbles in a way that makes it sound like he’s the one in pain, his long fingers gently curling around Jihoon’s spazaming abdomen. Carefully, always careful, Seokmin shifts Jihoon away from the gross area, settling him even closer to Seokmin’s stomach before he runs his fingers down Jihoon’s back and rubs his sad tummy. Footsteps echo through the apartment, two sets if Jihoon isn’t mistaken, but he can’t really focus on them. He can’t even focus on them when the owners of said footsteps burst into the room. It all hurts.  

“Oh gods,” he hears someone curse in an unfamiliar voice, footsteps slowly approaching him. “He’s really not doing well, is he?” Jihoon wants to scream and curse and shout at the newcomer that clearly something is terribly terribly wrong, but all that he can manage is a strangled whimper. Seokmin instantly smoothes down his back once more, his touches soft and firm and more reassuring than Jihoon could ever hope for.

“Clearly not.” Who must be Mingyu makes a sad noise before a finger is gently rubbing his cheek. 

“I can see if anything else will work?” Seokmin stiffens once more and Jihoon can only brace himself for what’s to come.

“And kill him this time?” Mingyu lurches back and falls onto his ass based on the sound, but his retreat seems to do nothing to appease Seokmin. 

“What? No! The fuck?!” 

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin’s voice is so cold that Jihoon finds his own hackles rising in response, “but it doesn’t seem that far out of the realm of possibilities.” Mingyu huffs, clearly offended, but Minghao cuts him off before they can go at each other’s throats.

“Mingyu, let’s leave them be.” Mingyu makes another noise like he’s about to fight, but before anyone can do anything, Jihoon pukes once more. 

“Baby,” Seokmin whispers, clearly heartbroken, once more easing Jihoon away from the sick that stains the towel before he settles him back down. Shuffling sounds throughout the room before it falls quiet once more, the only sounds left to accompany him and Seokmin are the sounds of their breathing. But when Seokmin starts to shuffle, Jihoon’s whimpers echo throughout the room. 

“Hey, you’re okay.” Jihoon can’t stop whimpering, not even when Seokmin cradles him against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. Not without checking with you first, okay?” It’s reassuring to hear, that’s for sure. With what feels like everything he has left, Jihoon bumps his head into Seokmin’s sternum in thanks. 

“You’re welcome baby,” Seokmin coos, smoothing over Jihoon’s face and neck and back once more. “Get some rest, okay? Hopefully it will help you feel better.” With his fingers crossed and thumbs pressed, Jihoon finds himself falling into a fitful sleep.

—

Hours blur into days as Jihoon only gets worse. He can’t keep his brain in his body and he feels like he’s going insane with pain. Seokmin keeps him close throughout all of this, only leaving when he absolutely has to.

Jihoon appreciates it more than he could ever say.

It’s one of those rare times that Seokmin’s in a different part of the apartment, the sound of his voice muddled to Jihoon’s ears. He’s talking to Minghao, but their hushed conversation does nothing to help ease him. 

“Seok, if he isn’t better by tomorrow…”

“I know,” Seokmin says, sadder than Jihoon’s ever heard before. The tone has his hackles rising. Whatever they’re suggesting, it can’t be good. “Are you sure there’s nothing else we can do?” The words bash around his mind like they’ve just set off a Bouncing Betty, leaving him reeling both physically and mentally. 

There’s no way they’re insinuating that, is there?

“I don’t think so, Seok. You’ve seen him.” Seokmin’s shaky breath makes his ears ring. Fuck. Jihoon can’t even run with the state he’s in; he’s (mostly) stopped puking, sure, but the pain is still as mind numbing as it was before, if not worse. It’s bone deep now but still burrowing further, and Jihoon has a terrible feeling that it’ll simply consume him from the inside out. It’s not as terrible as the thought that maybe the injection would be better than this.

He doesn’t sit with that idea. 

Even with Jihoon knowing his fate, he finds himself grateful for Seokmin’s gentle presence as he settles down next to him. Purrs still rumble from his chest as Seokmin smoothes over his side and he even finds himself relaxing against the man. Despite everything and his earlier hopes not to think about it, Jihoon finds a tiny part of himself thinking that this isn’t a terrible last day.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” Jihoon doesn’t bother to make a true sound, focusing on how good it feels to be loved by Seokmin instead. He presses his cheek into Seokmin’s fingers and earns himself a hopeful hum, a noise he cradles close to his heart. 

“Yeah? You think you can keep something down?” Again, he doesn’t bother to answer. After a few moments Seokmin just sighs, scratching behind Jihoon’s ears. “You really gotta eat, Buddy. It’s scaring me.” Unfortunately our fortunately, depending on who you are, that is all it takes for Jihoon’s stupid whipped heart to agree. Curse attractive men. And you know what, curse Soonyoung and Junhui too while you’re at it.

Jihoon meows softly.

“Really? You wanna try?” The sheer amount of hope in Seokmin’s voice is enough to send him spiralling, but he ignores that thought as he meows once more. It’s worth one last shot. Seokmin carefully cradles Jihoon’s sickly body to his chest, bringing him into the kitchen. The light burns his eyes and the sound of the cabinets makes it feels like his brain is being shaken in his skull, but he doesn’t really complain. Seokmin is warm and soft and gentle. Seokmin is sweet and nice and comforting. Seokmin holding him is something he needs right now. 

“You’re gonna try and feed him?” It’s Minghao’s voice from behind them, and Seokmin doesn’t even bother to turn around as he hums in response.

“He said he’d try.” Seokmin’s voice is soft and sad, but Jihoon finds himself clinging onto the shred of hope he finds in it.

“Did he?” Minghao’s hope is stronger, clearer, than Seokmin’s own, and Jihoon can only wonder why. Jihoon listens as Minghao approaches, rustling through the cabinet before he pulls something out. A tink echoes through the space next, the sound of a pouring liquid following before the microwave beeps tickle Jihoon’s sensitive little ears. 

“Broth?” Minghao hums softly, most of the noise eaten by the sound of the microwave whirring. 

“It’s easily digested and everything, nutrient dense or something.” A pause. “And not the worst to puke back up.” That makes a lot of sense, Jihoon figures. He’s really not mad about it.

They settle him down on a towel on the counter, the bowl of warm broth set in front of him. Fingers constantly soothe him with their gentle touches as he forces himself to drink the broth in front of him, helping him to keep calm and focus on something else that isn’t the everlasting pain. It’s good, plus it warms him from the inside out better than anything else has in recent days. Not immediately puking it up makes it even better. 

“How was that, Buddy?” Minghao eventually asks, and Jihoon can only manage with a mrrp. A towel pats at his nose and cheeks as someone hums, and Jihoon finds his blinks slowing and muscles relaxing. His stomach isn’t the happiest it could be but he still hasn’t started puking, which he counts as an early win. 

“Do you wanna take a nap baby? See if you can stomach a little more later?” Jihoon mrrps once more, his eyes fully closed. Minghao and Seokmin coo softly at him, purrs rumbling through his chest when they begin to dote over him as if it’s easy. They’re like that for a while as Jihoon feels himself begin to drift off, making his home in the comfort of their touches. 

“We should let him sleep, Seok.” Seokmin releases a heavy sigh before he hums, and gentle hands move to cradle Jihoon once more. They move slowly throughout the apartment until they end up in Seokmin’s room, said man gently resting Jihoon down on the center of the mattress. 

“One second, baby.” Jihoon doesn’t mind as Seokmin moves away, returning a few moments later and shuffling before he eases Jihoon off the mattress again. He’s snuggled into the pillows with a towel underneath him after all is said and done, and a kiss is pressed to his forehead once Seokmin finds his position satisfactory. 

“I’ve gotta go do some stuff, but just yell if you need something. Hao or I will come and help, I promise.” Jihoon mrrps for one last time, licking Seokmin’s fingertips in a silent thanks. The gesture earns him a soft laugh and another kiss to his head, and despite the agony still terrorizing him, Jihoon allows himself to rest better than he has in days.

—

Jihoon feels odd. He’s not sure why, he’s only just started to wake up, but he feels too small and too big for his tense and aching body. He’s in a good bit of pain too, not as mind numbing as before but definitely still there. Whimpers tear themselves from his chest as he tries to flex his joints, his muscles aching and taught and off enough that he feels like a frozen elastic being forced to stretch. 

Something's off, but his sluggish brain still isn’t sure what. 

His hands are cramping terribly, and he makes two fists before he flexes them, flinching and whimpering as it pulls at his freshly healed wound. He finally notices that he’s shivering, and he tugs his legs tighter to his chest in an attempt to warm up and feel better. It’s only after he’s been curled up and shaking for a few minutes that Jihoon finally realizes what’s wrong.

He’s Jihoon again. He’s a person.

Jihoon is so ecstatic but yet so full of dread, opening his eyes and trying to ignore the pain that’s coursing through his veins. Despite the new scar, those are his hands. His hands. They’re attached to his wrists and arms and shoulders and and and-

And he’s overwhelmed. He’s sure that anyone would be. 

But then something soft and fluffy brushes against his back and he has to freeze. 

You’re fucking kidding.

Jihoon has a goddamn tail. He cringes once he takes hold of it, reaching his other hand up to the top of his head and groaning when he makes contact with an ear.

Well, fuck.

Jihoon knew this was a nasty curse, sure. He didn’t realize it would be so unbearable. 

Carefully, Jihoon moves to sit up, whimpers ripping from his throat and his stomach rocking like it’s on a ship. Everything hurts and aches and he feels miserable, but at least he has his body back, even if it’s weaker than it’s been in almost longer than he can remember. The last time he felt so terrible was when he had the flu when he was 12 and didn’t leave his bed for a week. His mom threatened to take him to the hospital by the end of it. And honestly, he wouldn’t have even been upset if she had. 

Jihoon manages to scrounge up the blanket on the end of Seokmin’s bed and wrap it around himself, cursing that of course Soonyoung and Junhui would have cursed him when he was only in his boxers. The fabric is saving his modesty at least, but still. He sort of wishes that if they were going to curse him, they could have at least done it when he was dressed for warmth, not right after he tumbled out of bed.

This whole time he’s been able to hear Seokmin and Minghao mumbling in the living room, making commentary over the TV as they eat. Jihoon doesn’t really want to bother them more than he already has been, but he’s too weak to stand and he’s a touch desperate for some pain medicine that will actually work and not make him feel like he’s dying. It’s his desperation that wins out over his resolve, and so Jihoon finds himself without much of a choice besides calling out.

“Hey-” he croaks before he descends into a coughing fit, his vocal cords rusty and rotten with misuse. The sound makes them scream in pain and leads him to whimper rather loudly as his thoughts begin to spiral - just how is he supposed to do more than half of his work with his voice gone? 

Soonyoung and Junhui are dead men.

His thoughts are haunting and numbing and overwhelming. It’s what makes it take longer than it should for him to realize that Minghao and Seokmin are moving towards him, footsteps hesitant as they make their way to him.

“Buddy?” Jihoon feels his tail flick against his back, but he ignores it as he buries his face into his knees. Gods this is so fucking weird. Soonyoung and Junhui deserve more than just death at this point. What, he’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out.

The door creaks open but Jihoon doesn’t move, sans how his ears flicker against his skull and even brush against the tops of his knees. He tightens his hold against his legs when he hears a pair of gasps, not bothering to look at either of them. He doesn’t want to see the betrayal that will be clear on their faces.

“So you were cursed, huh? Not stuck or anything.” Jihoon tries to hum in response, but all that he can manage is a whimper. 

“Fuck, you’re shivering.” Seokmin’s voice is still soft even if it seems terribly concerned, and Jihoon can only be grateful for that. He shuffles around a bit before he ends up next to the bed, close to Jihoon but still far enough so that he won’t crowd him. “Baby, can I touch you?” The nickname helps ease some of the fear that’s been festering in him, and Jihoon forces himself to breathe for a moment before he tries to speak again. 

“Yeah.” It’s croaked and choked and painful, but Jihoon’s rewarded for it with a comforter wrapped around his shaking form. He snuggles into it instantly, tightening the hold he has on himself in a hope to get warmer.

“Hao, can you grab the heating pad?” The sound of footsteps leaving the room tickles his ears, but Jihoon doesn’t bother to think about it. Instead he focuses on the gentle hand that’s rubbing circles into his back, focusing on keeping his breathing even. “Does it hurt?” Seokmin’s voice is soft but it still makes him jump, a noise of apology immediately being offered by the other man. 

“A lot.” Seokmin hums again, moving so that he’s no longer making circles but instead tracing a path along his spine.

“Anything I can do to help?” It takes a few moments, but Jihoon somehow manages to shrug. Seokmin hums softly before he must think of something, his hand pausing on the nape of Jihoon’s neck. “Can I sit?” It’s only after he nods that Seokmin sits, and even then he’s slow and clear with his movements. Even his hand moves slowly until it’s curled around Jihoon’s waist, helping to shift most of his weight so that it’s leaning against Seokmin. Jihoon can’t lie — it’s a glorious thing to be taken care of by Seokmin, and it’s made even better by being human. 

Minghao’s back before Jihoon notices, far too focused on the feeling of Seokmin beside him. It’s a good and comforting feeling, and he’s still mostly out of it, so Jihoon can’t even blame himself for his inattention. 

“Buddy?” Minghao’s voice is right in front of him and beyond gentle in nature, fingertips gently tapping against his knee.

“Yeah?” Though it’s still sort of croaked, his voice is slowly warming up for which Jihoon can only be grateful for. Being silenced by pain is one of the worst parts about all of this. 

“I have the heating pad. Do you want it now or should we wait until it’s warmer?” Jihoon forces himself to take a shaky breath as he considers.

“Warmer, please.” Minghao just hums in response, a hand gently combing through Jihoon’s hair. It’s quiet as they wait and Jihoon’s certain that there’s a silent conversation happening next to him, but he can’t care. Eventually a hand squeezes his knee and Jihoon feels one of his ears flick in anticipation.

“Can you unfurl? The heating pad’s pretty warm now.” Seokmin’s hand presses against him firmly, his fingers tugging at Jihoon’s hip gently to encourage him to sit up. After one more deep breath, Jihoon forces himself upright, wincing as he goes but still ending up in a sitting position despite his body’s complaints. There are curses spit into the air when he finally manages to get an arm out of the blankets, the clothes sliding off of his shoulder and exposing his bare skin to the frigid air. Jihoon forces his eyes open in time to watch Minghao shove the heating pad at Seokmin before he scrambles away, leaving Jihoon more confused than anything. Slowly he turns to Seokmin with an eyebrow raised, watching the other man startle slightly before his eyes flicker all over Jihoon’s face.

“Hao’s probably grabbing you a hoodie or something,” Seokmin half mutters, tugging one of the blankets higher up on Jihoon’s shoulder. “We didn’t realize you were, well…” He trails off as his cheeks flush, and when Jihoon finally connects the dots, his cheeks do the same.

“Got cursed after I just woke up,” Jihoon manages to mumble, offering Seokmin a soft thanks when he’s passed the heating pad. The new information has Seokmin’s eyebrows furrowing, a hand reaching out to shift Jihoon’s bangs out of his eyes as he looks him over carefully.

“So you know who did it?” Jihoon nods as he wiggles, pressing the heating pad against his stomach and curling around it, but keeping his hold on himself a hair looser this time. He doesn’t want to cramp, after all. “Is that why you didn’t wanna go back?” Jihoon puffs out a sigh, allowing the conversation to drop as Minghao comes in with a bundle of clothes in his hand. 

“Here, you can wear these.” Jihoon smiles at Minghao, ignoring how his eyes are narrowed and brows are knitted as he takes the bundle.

“Unless, do you wanna shower?” Jihoon’s not sure how long he’ll be able to stand, but the thought of a hot shower right now is pure heaven. It’s not like he’s really dirty - Seokmin had been a saint in making sure that he was always clean and well groomed because of how terrible he was at doing it himself, especially in the times of his potion induced illness. He’s biting at his lip as he debates how well a shower would work until there’s a pointed tapping against his waist. Seokmin’s smiling softly when he looks at him. “Or a bath if that’s easier. We do have a tub.” Jihoon feels something inside him ease before he nods, feeling his tail flick happily when both Minghao and Seokmin squeeze him. 

“Yeah, can we do that?” They nod easily before Seokmin slips out, pressing a kiss to Jihoon’s temple before he goes. It’s only now that they’re alone that Minghao’s suspicious curiosity takes over his expression, his eyes clearly sizing up Jihoon in the quiet.

“Do I know you?” Jihoon’s grateful that that’s the question, but he’s also more confused than he isn’t. If he actually knew Minghao, well, he’d hoped that he would’ve recognized the redhead by now.

“No?” Minghao squints. at him as if he doesn’t believe him. 

“You’re super familiar.” Jihoon can only shrug in response, feeling his ears start to twitch the more uneasy he becomes. 

“Mutual friends?” The question silences Minghao as his head tilts, blinking at Jihoon before he turns to stare at the wall. He’s clearly searching for something and can’t quite find it, but Jihoon’s grateful that seems to be the answer. Forgetting that Minghao was an acquaintance or client or friend of a friend would’ve been terribly embarrassing. 

It’s only after Seokmin calls out from the bathroom that Minghao seems to snap back to the present, looking over Jihoon warily before he looks back at the door. 

“You think you can walk?” 

“Worth a shot.” Minghao just nods, standing before he helps Jihoon to his own admittedly wobbly feet. Jihoon sheds the comforter to help ease some of the weight off and make the trip easier, but he still has to leave heavily against Minghao most of the way there. But his legs seem to support him after everything, and Jihoon can only be grateful for that. 

The bathroom is warm and steamy, Seokmin smiling up at them where he has an arm circling around in the bathtub. The water is a bit murky, but the purple bag open on the ground beside the tub explains it - Seokmin must have doused the water with epsom salt. Something about it makes his chest warm. 

“You think you can manage by yourself?” Jihoon hums softly before he thanks both of them, sighing into the empty bathroom once he’s alone. He’s really not looking forward to the rest of what’s to come. But he ignores his whirlpool of thoughts, instead easing his aching body into the hot bath that Seokmin had prepared. The warmth helps to ease the tension in his muscles and soothe the ache that’s buried itself in his bones, and Jihoon can only be grateful for the soothing feelings as he forces his mind to remain blank. 

It’s only after the water’s gone cold and he’s shriveled up that he makes his way out of the tub. He’s careful not to slip throughout the whole affair, drying himself off slowly and thoroughly. It’s when he’s moving to put on his pants that he realizes he has a new problem - what does he do about the tail. Leaving his boxers to hang low is fine enough, (he had considered wearing them backwards so that he could pull his tail through and wear them at a normal spot, but then he thought about how poorly they’d fit everywhere else (and realized that he was in a pair of boxers without a flap, so a moot point),) but his loaned sweatpants were definitely not able to handle the low rise look. He looked at his tail and considered wrapping it around his leg before he realized he’d probably end up sitting on it before he finally settled on wrapping it around his hips and tugging the pants up over it. Satisfied, he tugs on his shirt too before he turns towards the mirror, pausing at the sight that stares back at him.

He hadn’t put much thought into what kind of cat he was (is?), but the ears that are twitching on top of his head are two very different colors. They both have some sort of spotting on them, but one is predominantly orange and the other is black. The whole thing is rather odd and he tries to think if he had noticed anything as bold when he was still trapped as a cat but he draws a blank. He thinks he was spotted or mottled or something, but he’s long since realized the cat eyes and human eyes don’t exactly see, well, eye to eye. Which, speaking of, his eyes are a different color now. They’re a pale sort of yellow-y gold that’s a touch unsettling, but he doesn’t bother to dissect their new look any further than that. He has human pupils, and that’s the most important part. Well, all of this, the eyes, the tail, the ears, all of it being temporary is truly what matters the most, he figures. His ears twitch as he thinks, drooping a touch as he puffs out a sigh. 

Well, there’s no use in putting it off.
Might as well face the music.

Slowly Jihoon pads from the bathroom and into the living room, following Seokmin and Minghao’s voices with ease. He’s leaning against the doorway for a while before they notice him, his tail flicking against his hip as he watches them startle at the sight of him. Admittedly, Jihoon’s bracing for the worst, but when the pair smile at him, and genuinely at that, he feels himself falter because, well, what?

“Hey, you feeling any better?” Seokmin’s voice is as gentle as his expression, his smile soft as he waves Jihoon towards the table. Jihoon sits where he’s more or less told to, a plate of food slipped in front of him. It seems to be a soup, something a hair more substantial than broth but still relatively light enough that it would keep his rioting stomach from forcing it out again. Plus there’s an extra bowl of rice that makes his mouth water. So, without even a simple preamble or a touch of hesitation, Jihoon digs in. 

Resurfacing to the present waits until Jihoon has fully finished his meal, sure that his cheeks are cherry red as he looks up at Seokmin and Minghao, especially when he notices that they’re watching him. They both seem far more relieved than humored, which Jihoon appreciates, but he still takes the embarrassment in stride. Then again, what else can he do? They settle across from him after nodding at each other, their expressions seemingly forced to come off as kind.

Right. This then.

There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, he figures, before he simply decides fuck it.

“If you call me a car, I can be out of your hair in no time. Just, um, give me one of your phone numbers and I’ll pay you back for everything once I have my phone again.”

“What?” Their confusion seems genuine, but Jihoon doesn’t let it trip him up. The ball is firmly in his court, and he intends to keep it that way.

“I mean, I know you guys were gearing up to get rid of me soon, which is perfectly fine and understandable. I just figured I shouldn’t cause you any more trouble than I already have.” They both stare at him with blank looks. It’s like that for a while, Jihoon forcing himself to keep his posture as opposed to curling in on himself the way that he wishes to, until Seokmin finally breaks the tense silence.

“What?” Jihoon shrugs, finally allowing his eyes to drop to the plate in front of him. He really hadn’t expected them to hold out for so long.

“I get it, honest. I can’t blame you, I dunno what I would’ve done in your shoes.” He sees Seokmin wave his arms out of his peripherals but he still doesn't bother to look up. When are they going to drop the ruse? It’s the only thing he can think of.

“Buddy,” Minghao says evenly, cutting off Seokmin’s dramatic motions with ease, “can you be more specific as to what you’re talking about please?” Jihoon puffs out a sigh, tugging at an earlobe as he’s sure the ears on top of his head are twitching in disdain. Fuck. They’re gonna make him say it.

It takes a few shaky deep breaths before Jihoon barrels on. Time to burn the bush they’ve been beating around. Might as well.

“You guys kept talking about wherever you were planning on taking me tomorrow. You were both so sad that it wasn’t all that hard to figure it out.” Okay, so he didn’t exactly plow through the bush, but he did it well enough for them to get it, or at least he hopes so. Based on the sharp gasps that ring around the room, Jihoon can’t exactly be so sure about that.

“With how poorly I was doing? It made sense.” They’re making shocked noises again but Jihoon doesn’t bother to look up, at least not until Minghao sighs. 

“Yeah, you have a point.” Jihoon just hums, still refusing to look up.

“But,” Seokmin starts firmly, something in his voice almost pleading for Jihoon to listen, “we weren’t. We were gonna take you to a curse breaker, see if there was anything we could do.” Jihoon feels his ears twitch as he looks up, sure that his eyebrows and ears are portraying his confusion and curiosity easily. 

“Curse breaker?” Seokmin nods vehemently as Minghao explains. 

“We’re near one of the best curse breakers in the country, if not the continent. And he and I happen to be friends,” Jihoon feels his blood start to run cold, “so we were gonna see if he could do anything. At least something to reduce your pain.” Jihoon does his best to play it cool, but he can feel goose bumps erupting over his entire body. Fuck.

“Who’s your friend?” Minghao raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, clearly curious about why Jihoon is asking. Jihoon doesn’t bother to answer his unspoken question.

“Jun. Wen Junhui.” Oh. Whelp. It makes sense why he’s familiar to Minghao then. He sighs softly, feeling his ears flick on the top of his head again. Might as well.

“How close are you?” Minghao’s eyes narrow, clearly suspicious. Jihoon pays him no mind and is instead forced to bite back his snorts as Seokmin looks between them like they’re playing a tennis match. It’s really cute. 

“Very. We’ve known each other for forever, and our families do holidays together.” Ah. Right then. 

“So you know Soonyoung?” Minghao’s eyebrows raise even higher.

“Of course. They’re grossly inseparable.” Jihoon can’t bite back his laughter this time, because Minghao is completely correct on that front. They are truly insufferable. It takes him a few minutes to calm down, but once he does he waves off both of their suspicions and concerns. He’s sure his smile is shy and embarassed when he looks between them and he can feel the blush burning on his cheeks, but Jihoon pushes his concerns aside with a deep breath.

“You’re right in that.” Minghao’s brows are so high they’re practically kissing his hairline. “Hi, I’m Jihoon. I’m sure Soonyoung’s mentioned me.”

It’s comical how both Minghao’s and Seokmin’s eyes bulge so big that Jihoon would have previously thought that size was impossible. He’s watching them almost fondly, biting back his laughter as they turn and gape at each other. They’re like that for a few minutes until it’s awkward, and Jihoon finds himself rubbing his neck and shifting uncomfortably. 

“Holy fuck.” It’s practically whispered, but at this point Jihoon is desperate for any kind of clarity on the situation. 

“Um, what’s up?” Their heads snap towards him, Minghao still mostly gaping at him as Seokmin shakes his head, clearly getting his bearings back. 

“Jun and Soonyoung have been freaking out because they can't find you.They wouldn’t tell us what happened, anyone really, just that we should keep an eye out.” Jihoon feels himself rolling his eyes. “But, but they’re the ones who cursed you, aren't they?” Jihoon feels himself grimace and his ears press into his skull. It’s enough of an answer for the other two men, and Minghao is instantly cursing, clearly seething at the revelation. 

“I’ll gut them.” Jihoon shakes his head, but before he can respond, Seokmin speaks up for the first time in what feels like ages.

“I think that’s baby’s-” he cuts himself off, eyes flickering to Jihoon before they fall to the table, “I think that’s Jihoon’s right.” There’s something about the cut off baby but also hearing his name from Seokmin’s mouth that does something to him. His emotions feel like they were caught in a whirlwind and his heart has been left out to die. It’s honestly more confusing and almost worse to deal with than the whole fucking curse thing.

“I’ve been thinking about it. It’s definitely deserved,” he says with a shrug, his tail flicking against his thigh. They’re quiet for a minute before Minghao shakes his head, checking his phone before he curses softly. 

“Shit, I gotta go,” he says almost frantically, shooting both Seokmin and Jihoon apologetic looks. “I’ll be back tonight.” The words are tossed over his shoulder as he tugs on a coat and practically runs out, leaving Jihoon and Seokmin to their own devices. 

“Work?” Seokmin shrugs.

“Probably.” Jihoon scratches behind his cat ear, unsure how to continue from here. He likes Seokmin, enough that he’s beyond worried about fucking this up. Plus he still feels like he’s been deceiving them this whole time, and the guilt that’s gnawing at his stomach is almost as bad as the cramps had been.

It’s quiet for a while then, both of them too stuck in their own heads to manage a conversation. At least that’s what Jihoon’s feeling, and he’s hoping Seokmin is the same. He’s not sure he can handle the thought of Seokmin thinking ill of him.

“Are you a shifter then?” Jihoon’s eyes snap to Seokmin’s in an instant.

“Um, I didn’t think so.” Seokmin raises an eyebrow but Jihoon can only sigh. “I dunno how the curse would’ve done all this if I wasn’t,” he says with a wave to his ears. Seokmin’s expression takes on a pitying edge even as he smiles, but Jihoon can’t even be mad about it. 

“That’s a shitty way to find this out.” Jihoon hums, kicking at the floor.

“Funnily enough this isn’t the worst way I’ve had to learn life altering news.” Seokmin makes an odd noise, his eyes wide and concerned as he looks over Jihoon. 

“Really?” Jihoon just nods, looking out the window before he looks back at Seokmin.

“Tact isn’t something that runs in my family.” Seokmin’s expression falls a bit farther, his eyes dropping to the table before he looks back at Jihoon.

“Secrets run in mine.” Jihoon hums softly, cataloging Seokmin’s expression carefully. Instead of pressing he decides to change the subject, at least adjacently.

“What about you? Are you a shifter?” Seokmin smiles and inclines his head in what Jihoon assumes to be thanks, clearly grateful for Jihoon’s decision not to press him. 

“Nah, at least not that I know of. I know a few people who are though, and I can give you their numbers if you wanted? I can’t imagine finding this out on your own.” Jihoon’s a bit stunned for a moment until he remembers just how kind and caring Seokmin is, his lips ticking up into a smile as he’s sure a blush is flooding his face.

“I might have to take you up on that.” Seokmin just smiles back at him.

“I’m happy to help ba- Jihoon.” His cheeks flush bright red, and clearly his time as a cat has loosened his brain to mouth filter as his next words come tumbling out before he can even try to stop it.

“I don’t mind when you call me baby.” Seokmin ends up mirroring his blush, but after a few moments he looks back at Jihoon with a knowing smile. Shit, he even winks.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Oh, fuck. Jihoon doesn’t know what he’s just done, but all he knows is that his whole situation is bound to get a lot more interesting

—

Jihoon finds himself curled up in the corner of the couch, nursing a mug of tea and half watching TV as he tries to figure out what to do. He should probably alert his friends of his well-being, especially since he knows they’ve been desperately looking for him, but there’s still something that smarts in his chest every time he thinks about doing that. It’s not like they meant to curse him or leave him high and dry (and to die, an annoying part of himself reminds him), but there’s still something about the whole situation that leaves him reeling. 

At least the pain meds kicked in, he thinks idly, curled around the heating pad again. At least the physical pain has begun to ebb. 

“You okay?” It’s a testament to how lost in his thoughts he is that Jihoon didn’t even hear Seokmin come up behind him. Instead of jumping the way that he wants to, Jihoon only turns to look at Seokmin, forcing what he’s sure is an exhausted smile at the other man.

“Mostly.” Seokmin hums softly before he sits on the other side of the couch. He shoots the TV an odd look before he turns and looks at Jihoon with a fond yet humored expression. Jihoon’s heart twitches in his chest. (He absolutely does his best to ignore it. It doesn’t work.)

“Baking shows, huh?” Jihoon doesn’t know why he feels himself blush, nor why his tail starts to flick against his hip again. 

“What about it?”

“I wasn’t sure if it was just a cat thing ‘cuz you couldn’t change the channel,” Seokmin teases softly, and Jihoon finds himself huffing. The reaction makes Seokmin laugh harder, even as his demeanour remains gentle. They’re quiet for a while, both of them watching the show idly, bakers scrambling around in the light hearted chaos that defines these things, before Jihoon notices the soft hand on his knee. It’s been there for a while, he realizes, but he also knows that it’s been providing him with a more grounding type of comfort than he’d otherwise expect. 

“Y’know,” Seokmin starts during a commercial break, rubbing his thumb into the hollow of Jihoon’s knee, “I feel like I know you more than I probably should.” It’s Jihoon’s turn to hum, his ears flicking on top of his head and giving him and his curiosity away.

“Yeah?” Seokmin looks away for a few moments, his cheeks stained a pretty red.

“I mean, it’s not like we’ve been able to truly talk when you were a cat, right?” Jihoon nods easily. “But I still feel like we somehow did.” It’s Jihoon’s turn to blush once more, and he focuses his gaze on his mug as he smiles softly.

“Oh really?” He teases back, sneaking a glance at Seokmin but getting caught all the same. Seokmin shuffles then, moving so that he’s closer to Jihoon and facing him fully. The hand on his knee remains there and keeps up its soothing motions, the thought bringing another smile to Jihoon’s face. It’s a miracle that his cheeks haven’t begun to ache.

“Well, let’s see.” His tone is soft and teasing, and Jihoon can only ignore the warmth blooming in his chest. “I know that you constantly worry about everyone else, even when you should be worried about yourself. You’re prideful, but always so grateful for even the smallest bit of help. You’re a great listener and you want the best for people you care for, even me and Minghao and you haven’t known us for very long. You’re smart and sweet and kind and caring and giving, and I just, I dunno, I feel like I’ve gotten to know you through all these little things.” Jihoon is just, he’s in awe. He’s fully speechless. What can you even say to that? He’s sure that his cheeks are cherry red and he can feel his ears press into his skull, but there’s that glowing bundle of feelings dipped in pride that remains warm in his chest. When Seokmin starts giggling at him, Jihoon feels himself unstick, and he dramatically huffs at Seokmin, sure that it comes off only for show.

“Shuddup.” Seokmin’s grin only widens, something in his eye glinting.

“Never.”

—

“So,” Minghao starts while their eating dinner, calling Seokmin and Jihoon’s attention easily, “what now?” Jihoon feels his ears press into his skull as he looks at his bowl.

“I can go,” Jihoon mumbles, but his protests are silenced by Seokmin’s hand on his arm.

“I don’t think Hao meant it like that.” When Jihoon looks up, Minghao is sure to nod at him firmly. 

“I more so meant what you want to do. You can stay here, we can drive you home, we can have Junhui come over to see if he can help out with,” Minghao waves towards Jihoon’s ears, and unbeknown to the others, Jihoon feels his tail flick unhappily. Seokmin interrupts before his sour expression can fully take hold, and after a second of thought Jihoon finds himself grateful for it.

“Or we can call Vernon and Chan - they’re both shifters. They might be able to help.” Jihoon finds himself shrugging, helplessly overwhelmed. 

“I…” Seokmin squeezes his arm and offers him a gentle smile the next time he looks.

“Minghao wasn’t kidding or anything. You can stay here for as long as you need, baby.” Jihoon feels himself flush terribly, but Seokmin’s gaze remains soft and reassuring, no hint of teasing nearby. When he casts a glance at Minghao, it’s to find his gaze calculating but his smile remains forever kind. 

“Of course, we have more than enough room. But,” Jihoon forces himself to take a deep breath, grateful for Seokmin’s hold on his arm, “we should probably tell Soonyoung and Junhui that you’re okay, even if you don’t want to see them.” Jihoon puffs out a sigh. Sure, he’s glad that that was Minghao’s suggestion as opposed to something else, but, well, his chest still aches. And he knows his friends, knows them well. Soonyoung will destroy mankind as we know it if it means making sure Jihoon is safe and okay. 

He should know. Soonyoung’s done it before. 

All that’s to say is that the second word gets out of where he is, Seokmin and Minghao’s apartment are bound to get flooded by more than just Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber. 

“They’ll break in the second they know I’m here. With reinforcements too.” Minghao looks like he’s going to argue before he pauses, a thoughtful expression taking over his features before it melts into a grimace. 

“Fuck, yeah, you’re right.” Jihoon just hums, picking at his nails as the quiet washes over them once more. 

“What about magic?” Seokmin asks, calling Jihoon’s confused attention in a moment. 

“What about it?”

“Well you know your phone best of all,” he starts, shifting around as if he’s excited he came up with the idea (which is so beyond cute that it has to be illegal), “so if you’re any good at transportation or summoning magic, you can probably call it back.” 

“If you’re okay to cast,” Minghao cuts in, his expression remaining concerned. “Don’t do it if there’s even the slightest bit of concern over your well-being, okay? But it is a better idea than me telling them if we’re trying to avoid their, well, overwhelming response.” Jihoon laughs softly at the words, feeling himself blush when he notices that Seokmin has lit up with the sound. Feeling bashful and embarrassed, Jihoonnods before he closes his eyes and centers himself, calling upon both the magic sitting dormant in his chest and the memory of his cell phone. He calls upon it softly, gentle and kind in his request that it comes and joins him. Admittedly, he doesn’t think it works, no tingling or warm sensation dancing in his bones after he’s reached out. Nothing, really. He tries to curb his disappointment as he opens his eyes, but apparently he didn’t need to. 

There’s his phone. On the table. The display lit up as if it was saying hello. 

Jihoon startles at the sight of it. 

“You…” Minghao starts but quickly trails off, his eyes wide and jaw dropped as he looks over Jihoon. Jihoon feels his eyebrows furrow, turning to Seokmin for clarification as to what has Minghao so confused but only finds him sporting a similar awed reaction. 

“I?” He tries, his head moving forward as he raises his eyebrows. 

“You glow when you cast.” Oh. Weird. Jihoon runs a hand through his hair as he turns to his phone, unlocking the device and cringing at the amount of phone and messaging notifications he sees. 

“I thought I outgrew that,” he mumbles, the only response he bothers to validate them with as he reads back through the panicked messages of his group chat, wincing with almost every word. 

But today's messages might just be the worst.

JIHOON SEARCH SQUAD
6 members

shau  
still no sign of him?

KSY
no
he’s still not at his usual haunts. 
still hasn’t been.
it’s been so long guys.
i can’t stop thinking abt what went wrong
like why he’s not answering
why he hasn’t reached out
i just,,,
this is all my fault

junhwihwi
Hey no don’t blame yourself 
Jihoon’s fine, I’m sure of it

cheolie
Yeah, juns right
Jis fine, we’ll find him

KSY
yeah sorry
gotta stay positive and all that

shau
you can be sad Soonyoungie it’s okay
we all understand 

Jihoon’s sitting still, forcing himself to breathe as he fights back his tears, when a new message interrupts his guilty mourning.

KSY
babe did you move his phone? it’s not where i left it on the counter

junhwihwi
No?

KSY
are you sure???
i wouldn’t move it without remembering

hannie
Guys.
Everyone’s read these messages. 
The 1 is gone.

cheolie
Oh shit

shau
??????
Jihoon????

KSY
jun if this is you i’m gonna lose my shit

Jihoon forces himself to take a deep breath, preparing himself for the chaos that’s about to occur. Seokmin’s steady hand on his shoulder is the one thing grounding him, joined by Minghao reaching out and squeezing his bicep. With shaky fingers, Jihoon types out his own message. 

jihoonie
its okay it’s me
i’m okay

KSY
holy fuck
jihoon?? it’s really you??

cheolie
Sorry but like, can you prove it?

shau
Sorry jihoon is but i agree

jihoonie
how should i

hannie
Sorry Hoon but
What was the worst night of your life

Jihoon drops his head onto the table and huffs out a sigh, earning squeezes from both of the hands on his body. Eventually he feels Seokmin scoot towards him, an arm winding around his waist as a hand scratches at his scalp and behind his ears. It feels magnificent, truly, and it does help Jihoon get a grip. 

“You okay?” Jihoon puffs out another exasperated breath. 

“They’re draining. They want proof that it’s me and they’re asking for it in the worst way.” Seokmin hums softly, his hand still combing through Jihoon’s hair. His phone is moved from in front of him but Jihoon doesn’t care, listening to the noises Minghao makes as he reads over the messages. 

“Is there something else that they can identify you with that isn’t so terrible?” Jihoon sighs once more. 

“I can try.” Carefully Jihoon straightens and takes his phone back from Minghao, taking a deep breath before he sends another few messages. 

jihoonie
i’d prefer not to relive that right now sorry
but in high school soonyoung gave half the school mono after making out with a jock under the bleachers and then playing spin the bottle the next day at a party
like,, multiple games multiple rounds
school closed down for a day to be disinfected it was so bad

KSY
wtf
how dare you air out my secrets

cheolie
Wait that’s why mono spread?? Not the cheerleaders??
Why don’t I know this why did you never tell me
…….
Wait
Who was the jock

KSY
ohmygod Don’t.
jihoon pls i’m begging
we believe you okay

jihoonie
funny enough you remember hongseok 

KSY
jihoon shut the fuck up we Get It you’re you

cheolie
YANG HONGSEOK ???

Jihoon turns off his display and runs his hands over his face as the group chat descends into madness, letting out a heavy sigh. A message besides the group chat lights up his display, and Jihoon finds himself smiling softly as he reads it. 

shau
I’m so glad that you’re okay Jihoonie
If you need anything let me know
And if you want it to stay between us, just say the word

“They believe you?” Jihoon nods, his tail flicking against his hip as he sighs gratefully. 

“Yeah, thankfully. Plus they don’t know where I am, so hopefully they don’t bombard your place.” Minghao and Seokmin exchange knowing looks before the former shrugs. Instead of saying anything, he simply reaches out and combs through Jihoon’s hair, pressing a kiss to his head as he walks by. 

“I’m at the office early tomorrow, so I’m gonna go shower and crash. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jihoonie?” And though it’s phrased as a question, Jihoon can tell that it’s a promise. 

“‘Course. Sleep well.” Minghao smiles gently before he waves, trading soft well-wishes with Seokmin before he takes his leave from the dining area and seemingly goes to wash his plate. Jihoon and Seokmin stay quiet for a good while, listening to the sound of the apartment around them and the almost incessant buzzing of Jihoon’s phone. 

“Hey,” Seokmin eventually says softly, squeezing Jihoon’s waist when he looks back at him, “you wanna crash in mine tonight?” Jihoon finds himself humming back, knocking his shoulder into Seokmin’s side when he sees the fond look on the other man’s face. 

“What makes you ask?”

“You just got your body back. I figured the couch would do you no good, and you never minded cuddling with me when you were a cat.” Jihoon feels himself flush once more, smacking at Seokmin as he huffs. 

“I mean, a mattress would be nice…” he grumbles, looking up to see that Seokmin’s grin is truly shit eating. Though it may not bode well for him, Jihoon can’t find any concern blooming in his chest. Instead there’s only one thought floating through his mind.

Cute bastard.

Sharing a bed with Seokmin as a human is definitely something. It’s not like it’s a new concept or anything. Jihoon’s shared plenty of beds in his life and with plenty of chronic cuddlers. But there’s something about this bed and this man that has something swooping in his chest. 

He had finally decided to free his tail after it started to get sore, and the sight of it twisting around behind him had Seokmin freezing. Jihoon had been braced for the worst, but in retrospect he really didn’t need to be. Not with how Seokmin cooed at him. 

Yes, you understood that correctly. Cooed. Jihoon smacked him repeatedly for it. 

Eventually he finds himself sitting on Seokmin’s bed, picking at the hem of his borrowed shorts as Seokmin keeps wandering around. He can feel his tail curling around anxiously but he’s not exactly sure why. Well, he knows he’s stressed and anxious and overwhelmed and sad even, so while he knows why he doesn’t know exactly why. It makes sense to him, even if it doesn't really make sense.

“You okay?” Jihoon looks up at the sound of Seokmin’s voice, surprised that Seokmin got the jump on him. He has two sets of ears right now, he really feels like that should be impossible. Eventually he remembers he has to actually answer Seokmin, and he forces a shrug, his tail swaying behind him. 

“Yeah?” Seokmin makes a soft noise, sitting on the edge as he looks over Jihoon carefully.

“Is it me? I can go and take the couch, I don’t mind.” It takes Jihoon’s mind a moment to connect the dots, and he’s forever grateful for Seokmin’s seemingly never ending patience. Once it finally clicks, Jihoon shakes his head easily. 

“No, it’s not you.” Though his voice is soft, it’s clear that he means his words. He’s searching for the right words and the answers in the wringing of his hands when they end up covered, Seokmin’s soft and warm and tan hand suddenly obstructing his line of sight. Jihoon blinks up at him, taking in all of Seokmin’s expression as best as he can, searching it thoroughly. For what, he’s not sure, but Seokmin lets him look for a long time before he speaks. 

“You can tell me if it is, okay? Now or later.” It’s only after Jihoon nods that Seokmin smiles, squeezing his hand before he pauses. Gently Seokmin turns Jihoon’s hand over and pulls it closer to his face, cradling it carefully as his free hand gently traces the edges of his palm. It’s ticklish but Jihoon doesn’t pull away, allowing Seokmin to fully assess the grotesque scar covering most of Jihoon’s palm. Seokmin eventually looks at him with something in his expression that Jihoon can’t place, his fingers still gently canvassing Jihoon’s palm. 

“This has to hurt still.” Jihoon nods, wincing when Seokmin accidentally prods too close to the now healed wound.

“It’s tender, yeah. Achy too, but at least it’s not bleeding.” Seokmin hums softly, his eyes flickering between Jihoon’s face and his hand before they eventually settle back on Jihoon’s own, his eyebrow raising.

“You want me to fix it?” Jihoon feels his head tilt and his tail flick, sure that his curiosity is clear as day. 

“Fix it?” Seokmin’s cheeks flush a cute pink as he nods, his smile boyish. 

“I’m pretty good at healing spells.” Jihoon closes his hand around Seokmin’s fingers that are still hovering above his palm, giving them a playful squeeze. 

“Well, go on then.” Seokmin smiles even wider before he closes his eyes, his lips moving soundlessly despite how they’re still tugged into a grin, and Jihoon is forced to appreciate just how jaw dropping he is. God he’s just, he’s beautiful. It’s the only word that Jihoon can come up with, but he knows it’s not enough. 

Nothing is truly enough to describe Seokmin. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of lips against his palm, and it takes everything in him not to flinch hard enough to pull it back. But his jolt of surprise is easily quelled by the feeling of Seokmin’s magic swirling through his bones and warming his chest. The sigh that escapes him is simply one of instinct but he can’t bother to even be mad about it, his tail swaying happily in front of him even as it bumps against what must be Seokmin’s knee. 

Eventually he gets his eyes open despite the feeling of just pure bliss radiating within him, feeling his cheeks burn red at the look on Seokmin’s face.

“Shuddup,” he manages to mumble, looking down at his lap for a few moments before he looks back up at Seokmin. 

“Can we talk?” His voice is soft and gentle and even though Jihoon knows that usually that phrase would send him into a tailspin, all he can feel is a serene calmness. 

“What about?” His eyes catch on movement, and he wonders how it’s even possible to blush even more but it feels as if he does. His tail has seemingly laid its claim on Seokmin, and it happily draped itself across the younger man’s lap. It’s flicking around too, almost as if it’s happy to not only be with Seokmin but beyond happy that he’s petting it too. 

That’s right. Seokmin’s petting his weird ass tail. Like it’s nothing. Jihoon’s heart really can’t contain itself.

“Based off of your reaction,” Seokmin starts softly, teasing but only slightly, “I have a feeling that you’re feeling the same thing I am.” Jihoon can only mirror Seokmin’s smile, somehow managing a nod after a few moments. Seokmin takes a deep breath before he smiles again, as bashful as they come. 

“I dunno what you’ve heard when it comes to wives’ tales and the like, but there’s whispers about people with compatible magic and the lot.” Jihoon finds himself giggling before he hides his face in his free hand. It’s taken him until now to realize that his hurt hand, the one that Seokmin is still holding hostage, doesn't hurt any more. Somehow, it’s that sensation that manages to get Jihoon’s brain to jumpstart once more, and he somehow manages to maneuver his hand enough to lace their fingers together.

“I’m sure I’ve heard the same ones.” Seokmin’s smile is hopeful and Jihoon, Jihoon wants to wrap him up and keep him close forever. 

“I’ve heard people blame it on the ancestors,” Seokmin says with a little laugh, still clearly embarrassed but not bothering to hide his fondness. 

“Where I’m from,” Jihoon whispers, a reverent priest at his beloved altar, “they blame it on the stars.” They trade glances, the tension in the room brimming with the same unspoken excitement and serenity that they both feel. Finding what is essentially your soulmate, well, it’s bound to leave even the best and brightest a little stunned. But, when Jihoon squeezes Seokmin’s hand, Seokmin squeezes his back.

Together. They’ll figure it out together, just as they were always supposed to. 

—

The soft sounds of breathing are what first greet Jihoon as he awakens, followed by the warmth of a body that he’s clearly snuggled up with. There’s a hand curled around the nape of his neck and another wound around his waist, a chin resting gently on top of his head. He has one of his own hands tucked under his chin, his body curled around his arm the way he used to as a kid, but the other is draped along someone’s side. 

Flexing his back, Jihoon sighs, a touch too warm but far too comfortable to do anything about it. That is at least until there’s a soft humored noise above him that alerts him of his mistake — Seokmin’s been awake this whole time. He feels himself blush as he burrows into Seokmin’s front, grumbling unintelligibly as Seokmin laughs softly from above him. Warmth be damned, he’s far too happy to move, even if he’s embarrassed beyond words.

“Hey baby.” The words are whispered and make Jihoon want to melt at their tone, a soft sort of fondness enveloping his mind. That isn’t to say he manages words, because of course he doesn’t. Jihoon hasn’t been a morning person since he’s been breathing. Instead he simply grumbles, soaking in Seokmin’s sweet giggles. The hand on the back of his neck moves through his hair, soothing any of Jihoon’s rumpled feathers from having woken up. His ears flick as Seokmin runs his fingers over them, and even if the feeling is a bit ticklish, Jihoon only feels content.

“Dya know that your ears wiggle while you sleep?” Jihoon huffs out a breath as he feels a blush begin to climb up his chest and neck. 

“No.” It’s more of a grunt than a word, and all it serves to really do is make Seokmin laugh, his breath making Jihoon’s ears twitch even more. 

“Well,” Seokmin starts softly, tracing Jihoon’s now fluttering ears with gentle fingertips, “you do. And it’s really fuckin’ cute.” Jihoon huffs this time and hides his face even further in Seokmin’s neck. But the fight drains out of him almost immediately once Seokmin begins scratching at his ears and scalp once more. His body feels like jelly and he’s sure a purr even rumbles through him at the sensations, but Jihoon can’t even bother to feel embarrassed by it. He’s half asleep again as Seokmin scratches at his scalp, the other man’s humming serving as background music for their soft spoken warm and cozy morning. 

Jihoon’s pretty sure he’s in heaven.

Something in his chest releases then, his body pressing itself closer to Seokmin’s as a contented sigh falls from his lips. Seokmin giggles at him again but doesn’t comment, instead happily pulling Jihoon even tighter to him.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” Seokmin whispers before he shifts, a firm kiss pressed between Jihoon’s ears. If he wasn’t before, Jihoon’s fully melted now. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And with that promise still wrapped all loose and warm around his heart, Jihoon lets himself drift off.