Work Text:
"You don't get it. I love him," San whines, clinging to Hongjoong's shoulders, sitting quite comfortably in his commander's lap. Well, comfortable for him anyway. Hongjoong, red from embarrassment, looks like he's one step away from murdering San in cold blood.
"I get it," Hongjoong grumbles, fighting for breath when San decides he wants to hug him, blabbering something incoherent about "stars in his eyes," "warm smiles," and "big, big, calloused hands."
Nothing of that is what Hongjoong would want to hear first thing in the morning, even before he had a chance to go to sleep.
Help me, he mouths to Seonghwa, who's shaking silently in barely stiffened laughter and doesn't even try to look apologetic.
Hongjoong curses under his breath and swears to himself to come up with something in retaliation. But first, he needs to deal with a distressed koala who decided to visit his office first thing in the morning, crying and sputtering nonsense about ruined lives and failed expectations.
"Okay, that's enough," Hongjoong wills his voice to sound stern, which is not an easy fit, especially when San looks up, his lips pursed in a pout, eyes red-rimmed and glassy, and his face screaming "vulnerable."
Even Hongjoong's heart, hardened in battles and snatched by a sly fox, pangs in sympathy, making him soften his voice and hesitantly pat San's back.
"Now, tell me what's this all about. From the beginning."
San sniffles, rubbing his running nose, and nods meekly, "Okay. So...."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆⁺₊❅.
San knew he was in love with Yunho one minute after meeting him.
Who could blame him? He was sure he'd die, overpowered and at his wit's end, his back pressed against the wall as he was trying to fend off five particularly snarly and toothy skeletons some necromancer "forgot" to put back into graves before fucking off to Spirits knows where.
He didn't imagine dying like that, but getting away wasn't possible, not with his injured leg.
And then, like a knight in shining armor, like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a cloudy day, like a light in the window of a cabin in the dark woods, like—
"I get it, San, please, stick to the point."
Okay, so when he was sure he'd die, Yunho appeared, slashing through the skeletons with his blessed sword, his tall figure towering over them until he was the only one left standing—the skeletons' bones crumbled to dust under the pressure of the magic, and San was too weak-legged not to slide down along the wall onto the ground.
"Are you injured? Should I get my healing scrolls?" Yunho—then a stranger—asked, rushing to his side and falling to his knees in front of him, his hands hovering over San's body hesitantly, afraid to cause more hurt.
I love you, San thought, his eyes wide open, drinking at the sight of a man in front of him.
"I love you," San said out loud because he didn't have a brain-to-mouth filter on better days. How could he get one in front of such a handsome stranger?
The guy blinked a few times, astonished, and then the tips of his ears started reddening rapidly in the most adorable sight of bashfulness.
"I swear to Sacred Five, if you don't get closer to the topic, I'll strangle you."
Yeah, yeah, so after meeting in that dark valley, lit only by Yunho's presence, the two of them moved out to the nearest fortress. San vehemently refused to waste healing scrolls on him, so Yunho decided to accompany him, which was exactly what San counted on.
And Wooyoung says San was a bad student.
Once they arrived, Hongjoong, who was worried beyond himself for his favorite and most diligent soldier—
"I wasn't worried about you!"
Interrogated poor Yunho, scaring him shirtless—
"He took off his shirt to show that he didn't have a Hell Mark on him. And don't say you didn't like it. I basically did it for you, where's at least an ounce of gratitude?!"
And then, like the traitor he was, Hongjoong offered Yunho a place among soldiers without any trials he subjected San to.
"He fought against five wild skeletons and won! Should I've missed such an opportunity?"
Still, San forgave his favorite commander for that because he saw the desperation in his eyes and ordered San to be the one looking after Yunho while he was getting acquainted with life in the fortress. For that chance to spend time with Yunho, get to know him, and be known and seen in return, San is forever grateful to Hongjoong.
"As you should be. You're welcome, by the way."
Months flew by, and San and Yunho grew closer. Each passing day spent training, completing tasks, and spending rare days off together only reassured San of what he always knew was the truth: he loved Yunho.
Yunho, who was a tall puppy, was so happy to finally find family after years of wandering the kingdom aimlessly. Yunho, whose fighting skills quickly made him a valuable asset to the Order and whose easy-going personality and angelic aura quickly earned him the affection and friendship of everyone in the fortress.
Yunho, who, despite quickly gaining friends and having no shortage of fans, sought out San, spending most of his time alongside him.
Yunho, who, despite being way out of his league, didn't laugh at San's stuttered confession and a crudely made gift, wrapped in a coarse fabric, a thin thread wrapped around it so excessively they spent several minutes trying to untie the knot before Yunho apologetically suggested slicing through the wrapping.
Yunho, who kissed him first.
It's been six months since Yunho joined their ranks. Winter is blasting outside, snowstorms so heavy they clear the narrow pathways around the castle instead of usual training. And with cold, darkness, and nasty weather, the Spirit's Day approaches.
The only day when couples can exchange gifts in front of the Five Spirit's altar.
If the gift is perfect, suiting all the needs and wishes of the one receiving it, the Spirits will bless the couple, their purple light shining upon them.
If not, it didn't mean much, nothing like an impending breakup or unhappy relationship.
Yet, San wants more than anything to give Yunho something so right, so in tune with his wishes and needs that even Spirits above would be impressed.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆⁺₊❅.
"So that's that," San concludes with a sniff.
"When I asked you to start from the beginning, I didn't mean from the dawn of time," Hongjoong grumbles, waiting for a few seconds for San to add a last-minute detail he missed.
"So, do I understand correctly that you are so worked up you were bested ten times by Yujun during training, almost got yourself killed during the raid, and have been avoiding Yunho for a week to the point he had to ask everyone for a reason, including Yeosang, who understands human interactions even less than I do, because you were worried about finding him a perfect gift?"
Well, put like that, it does sound silly and overdramatic, but San refuses to be ashamed of it. Only embarrassed and whiny.
With a pathetic sniff and pouty lips, he meets Hongjoong's eyes, batting his eyelashes for good measure, letting out the most pathetic "Joongie" to ever grace the world.
"What do you want from me?" Hongjoong sighs, absentmindedly shifting his grip on San's waist so he doesn't fall off his lap. He chooses to ignore Seonghwa's knowing snicker. He'll have his revenge sooner or later.
"Ideas? You are so good at coming up with them."
"Aren't you the one who knows Yunho the most? How would I know what he needs?"
"There's so much I want to give him," San sighs, fidgeting with his fingers. "He complained about his shirts getting all worn out, so at first, I thought about getting him a shirt. Then I heard him saying he saw a pair of dragon-leather boots. He also mentioned wanting some new books on exorcism. And his warning amulet is weakened. Oh, and also, I saw a set of silver claws sold for a reasonable price at the market. They would be perfect for fighting off vampires. And—"
"Too many options?" Hongjoong asks, wincing sympathetically.
"Too many options," San sighs affirmatively.
Hongjoong looks up, finding Seonghwa with his eyes. The ghost is hovering at the doors, a knowing expression on his pale face. Hongjoong arches his eyebrow in a silent question, but Seonghwa only shrugs, definitely enjoying the struggles of the living while he's having the time of his afterlife watching them.
Useless, Hongjoong pointedly mouths at Seonghwa, squinting. The ghost giggles wordlessly and sticks his tongue out, way too childishly for a centuries-old warden of the castle they turned into a fortress.
"Do you remember the most romantic moment you and Yunho shared?" Hongjoong gets his attention back to the inconsolable, overgrown child in his lap.
"Of course!" San perks up, all smiles and crinkling eyes. "When Yunho killed a wyvern for me!"
"O-Okay," sometimes Hongjoong forgets just how much blood and death the soldiers of the Order see daily and how bloodthirsty they sound to an overworked paper-worm like him. "And what exactly was romantic about it?"
"It was during the patrol at the border of the Misty Mountains. I lost my footing, fell off the narrow path along the cliff edge, and ended up in a wyvern’s nest. I hit my head and was so disoriented I didn't even draw my sword out, and then Yunho jumped after me, barely in time to get between me and a very angry wyvern . He had only a knife on him. It was damaged badly by the wyvern’s claws, so he had to—Oh! I get it! I will give him the perfect dagger."
"Yay," Hongjoong mutters, regretting every decision he's taken that led to this moment. "Now, please climb off me. I don't feel my legs."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆⁺₊❅.
Getting a perfect dagger proves to be much harder than San initially thought.
For one, every merchant claims his craftsmanship is the best, the work exquisite, the blade perfectly balanced, the hilt the comfiest thing to hold onto. Considering San is a swordsman, he knows enough to tell a shitty blade from a good one, but the intricacies of wielding daggers are unknown to him.
Secondly, in their line of work, daggers are far from being a universal weapon. To make a perfect dagger, one Yunho could wear all the time, no matter the assignment, so many things should be taken into account.
Your blade should be sturdy enough to cut through the bones of raised skeletons. It should contain not only silver to fight off vampires but also gold to distract dragons. Its tip should always be sharp to cut through the skin to draw blood for curses, but the edge should be chipped to carry spirits of luck in the tiny cracks.
The hilt should be made from wood to ward off wolves. Besides that, it has to contain glass to trap ghosts and stone to subdue golems. It should have runic carvings to ward off spirits and gems to strengthen any spells put upon it.
Lastly, it must be blessed by the Orden, enchanted by druids, and put through the dragon's fire.
Making such a dagger would require the joint efforts of dozens of people, and although their fortress is rather big, not even wandering merchants and visiting craftsmen would be able to make a dagger suiting all San's needs.
So, he has three options: coming up with another idea, roping Wooyoung into creating such a dagger or conspiring with Seonghwa to steal one if there's any in the royal treasury.
Creating such a powerful weapon would most likely require a human sacrifice, and San is bitter at Mingi for spending so much time with Yunho lately, but not to such an extent. Seonghwa might point out the location of the dagger but won't be able to take it out for obvious uncorporeal reasons.
And San is too stubborn to give up easily.
A dagger, a perfect dagger it is.
The one thing San didn't take into account is that commissioning a handcrafted weapon with the number of specifications he has in mind takes a lot of time. So much, in fact, that he has to spend every spare minute outside the castle walls. He gets up early in the morning to check with the smith, and then he jogs to the training grounds, from there, he rushes to the nearby village to check how the work on the sheath is going. One moment, he's fighting off feral wolves, the next, he's hovering over Wooyoung's shoulder, watching him doing magic.
He sees Yeosang more than he sees Yunho, and it pains and saddens him. Then he thinks about the perfect gift he'll give him, how Yunho's eyes will shine in wonder, how he'll blush and smile and kiss San on his cheek with a soft, "Thank you, it's beautiful."
That gratitude, the feeling of giving Yunho something worthy, is what keeps San going.
That and dreaming about the Spirits' blessing.
He knows he loves Yunho; it's as much of an unwavering truth as that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. He also knows that miraculously, despite all the odds and honestly far better options, Yunho loves him, too.
Getting approval from Spirits is just that final reassurance, the nail in the coffin of San's insecurities because if the Spirits believe San deserves Yunho, how dare he disagree?
Still, San misses one small detail: at some point, Yunho does confront him directly.
"Hey," Yunho calls for him one day, just as San is about to leave the castle grounds. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, sure. Why would you ask?" he tilts his head in slight confusion.
"I barely see you lately. Every time I ask where you are, you either left already or haven't come back yet," Yunho takes San's hand in his, his touch light, yet worry is evident in how he wraps his fingers around San's wrist. "I was worried something happened."
"No, everything is fine, really," he hurries to reassure him. "I'm just busy with—It's a surprise, actually."
"Is it about a gift for me?" Yunho smiles teasingly, and San's heart flutters in his chest.
One smile. One smile and he's so gone.
Wait.
Did he say "gift"?
"You know about it?" San exclaims, mentally going through the list of possible suspects.
Wooyoung comes first and, honestly, last. The loudmouth couldn't keep a secret even if he hadn't known it.
"Sannie," Yunho snickers, looking at him amusedly, "literally everyone knows about it. You are not very subtle." He says it without any note of aversion, but San still finds himself blushing in mortification.
"I just want to give you the best gift to ever exist," he mumbles, hanging his head.
Yunho has none of it, though, reaching out and tipping his chin up, smiling at him warmly.
"You are the greatest gift to me," he says, his eyes sparkling.
"Yunho!" San can't help but laugh.
"But seriously, you don't have to go out of your way to prepare something for me. I may doubt the gift I prepared for you."
San's chest is filled with a warm and fuzzy feeling of love-love-love at the mere mention that Yunho has something for him. How could he assume that San wouldn't like it?
"So, how about we spend some time together after the afternoon training?"
"I don't think—" San glances away, sad. He wanted to check with the smith one last time before taking the blade to the master, who'll attach the hilt and put the first layer of incantations.
"Sannie," Yunho leans closer to him, drawing their faces closer, "It's the Sacred Week already."
"I know," he whines. That's the very problem—he has merely a few days left until it ends, and he still has so much work to do. He can't afford to waste any time.
"It's the only week a year we can spend together without much disruption because literally everyone, from dragons to dwarves, is busy celebrating," Yunho keeps up, his voice enchanting on its own.
"I know, I know," San is torn apart by the sheer want to spend some time with Yunho and knowing that he has places to be if he wants to get his present finished by the end of the week.
"So we need to use this time."
"I just need to quickly—"
Yunho huffs and then moves even closer, rubbing his nose against San's and murmuring right into his lips, "Sannie, please, spend time with me. I miss you."
He's so so gone.
"Okay, I'll—" San quickly calculates how quickly he can run to the village and back if he skips lunch.
Well, quickly is an overstatement. With Yunho so close to him, their noses still touching, his hands still engulfing San's like he's some maiden, any attempt to think fast is, well, doomed.
Dejectedly, he mumbles, "Give me three hours."
"You have two," Yunho murmurs wryly, and it doesn't sound like he's negotiating. He's making demands in that curt tone of his that makes everyone reconsider protesting him.
It also makes San's toe curl, but that's beside the point.
"I—Yeah, uhm. I—Better go, right," turned into a blushing and stuttering mess, he flees, swearing that next time he'll listen to Wooyoung's lessons of "smoky seduction" more attentively.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆⁺₊❅.
He spends the next hour and a half running like he’s being chased by a hoard of heaven's wolves. One moment, he's chatting with the smith, the next, he's nagging Wooyoung. One moment, he's debating between two identical jades; the next, he's wrestling with someone for the last piece of dragon leather for the sheath. Not even Yeosang's complaining that San makes him feel dizzy discourages him from racing against time.
But as soon as the charmed kitten climbs up his spine and bites his shoulder, reminding him he has a date, he drops everything (literally, he drops the crate with golden chips that a merchant asked him to move in exchange for better rivets).
He has only half an hour left, meaning he needs to get back to the castle and take the quickest wash known to mankind because he can neither miss the deadline Yunho set for him nor show up to their date smelling like grease, burnt coals, and dry herbs.
In the end, he arrives just in time to see Yunho march down the stairs. He's carrying something in his hands, wrapped tightly in a few layers of fabric, so, understandably, San's first words to him are, "I hope it's not a gift to me."
To that, Yunho laughs—loudly, freely, tilting his head back, and San's mesmerized—and brings the package closer to San's face. He's promptly struck with the aroma of freshly baked pastries.
"How unfair it is that a ghost can bake better than any of us," he whines, his mouth-watering.
"He's not in a hurry and has endless wells of patience now," Yunho says, stirring them towards the backyard. It's been snowing heavily for a few days, today being the first one when they don't have to again clear the narrow pathways between the barracks and castle. So they can easily walk side by side now, enjoying the clear view in front of them: Wooyoung and Seonghwa spent a few hours in the morning decorating the bare trees with magical lights.
The backyard is a place for prayers and bonding. The Spirits' altar is ablaze, the red-hot fire licking the blackened stone of the castle wall. San can easily spot some gifts spread across the stone, left there to get blessings from spirits. Subconsciously, San clenches his fist, worrying, hoping, dreading, wishing...
As if sensing—or, most likely, knowing what he's thinking about, Yunho directs them towards the opposite side of the backyard, to a cleared-out circle on the hard ground. A row of makeshift benches rounds a huge fire pit, right now half-empty. Mingi is loading fresh blocks of wood and fire stones into it, looking up from his task only to greet them briefly.
San and Yunho take a seat on one of the benches, watching Mingi working on lighting up the fire. It will take time to reach full force, ready just before start gathering around it after dinner, clinking glasses and plucking strings of lutes, sharing the joy of celebration and anecdotes about their adventures.
For now, they're the only ones in this part of the castle grounds.
San gingerly opens the package Yunho brought with him, barely biting back quite an indecent moan when the aroma of bread, rich filling, and sugary sweet topping hits him full force.
After the first bite of a still-warm cake, the moan escapes him, but he doesn't even realize it, too busy savoring the flavor.
He inhales the first two cakes in no time, his fingers sticky from melted sugar, before he has the presence of mind to look up at Yunho. Who's been watching him with such a smile San's heart softens like caramel filling on his tongue.
"Oh," he jolts up, his eyes flickering at the package, where three more cakes are left, "you should have some too."
"It's okay," Yunho shakes his head slightly, pushing the pastries towards him. "I brought them for you."
"But they're delicious," San murmurs, fluttering his eyelashes, "You absolutely have to try them."
"I'm fine, really, eat."
"But—"
"They're for you, Sannie."
"I can take them if you can't decide," Mingi's voice cuts through their argument, diverting Yunho's attention. Without a second thought, San snatches one of the cakes and reaches out, meaning to put it in front of Yunho, tempting him with the smell. But in his haste, he doesn't pay much mind to coordination, putting too much force into motion and ending up smashing the cake against Yunho's cheek.
"Oh," San exhales, watching the cream and jam filling smear even more, all over Yunho's cheek as he turns back to San, his eyes wide in surprise.
Mingi's cackling has no right to be so loud.
For a few seconds that feel like infinity, they sit like this, frozen—the trail of sugar and red jam trailing Yunho's cheek to the corner of his lips.
But before San's brain starts up again, Yunho smiles wickedly and sticks his tongue out, leaking San's fingers.
The startled shriek San lets out could've also been a tad lower.
"Ew," Mingi whines somewhere to their left, "You're gross."
"Don't be jealous," Yunho parries, and then takes a bite of a now ruined cake, careful not to nip at San's fingers.
Mingi grumbles under his breath about having to bleach his eyes with a spell, but San pays too little attention to him, his eyes glued to the way Yunho's tongue pokes out, wiping the leftover jam from the corner of his lips.
"Uh," San blinks owlishly, staring at a piece of the cake still remaining in his hand, not yet able to process what to do with it. "Sorry?"
"It's okay," Yunho smiles at him warmly, having some mercy and taking the pastry from San's hand. "It's indeed delicious."
"I'm glad you liked it."
"Mhm," somehow, Yunho's calculating face makes San feel wary, especially when he wipes the sugar off his cheek with a finger and licks it clean.
In hindsight, it was an excellent technique. San's so distracted that he doesn't catch Yunho taking one of the remaining cakes and thrusting it forward, smashing the squishy dough against San's mouth.
"Mhghgh!" is all San can say, torn apart between snapping his teeth and biting Yunho's fingers or letting it go and calling them even.
"It was so tasty, I couldn't help but share," Yunho coos teasingly. Pouting, San wipes the cream and jam off his lips with the backside of his palm.
"Here, you missed a spot," Yunho exhales into San's mouth, leaning closer to him, fingers caressing his jaw softly, and then kisses the corner of San's lips, swiping off the remaining sweetness with his tongue.
San is lost for words, blushing furiously and blinking dazedly, when Yunho pulls away, looking smugly, and then takes the last cake out of the wrapping, biting into it with little care to the world.
They spend some more time like this: sitting side by side, talking and joking around. The amount of amulets they're obliged to wear, just in case, is enough for their magic to warm them up so they don't mind the coldness. At some point, Mingi wanders off, leaving behind a crackling fire, casting a bright light. Several young recruits take a bench a respectful distance away, knowing better than to bother seniors. Seonghwa floats past them a few times with a dreamy look in his silver eyes, humming softly. A cloaked figure sneaks to the altar, carefully laying out a few presents, and then disappears just as quietly.
The serene atmosphere of the backyard is broken only by Wooyoung's loudness.
"Hey, look what I made!" He yells, running down the staircase that rounds the east tower. His uniform is askew, his cheeks are flushed pink as if he spent a couple of hours running around, and he has a strange-looking...tool in his right hand, waving it around enthusiastically.
The recruits quiet down, their eyes snapping up to Wooyoung's figure with a look of reverence that boosts his ego even more.
But then, Wooyoung's inventions are always fun and almost always safe to use, so even San and Yunho perk up, intrigued.
"Behold," Wooyoung stops at the center of the circle, close to the fire pit, and puffs his chest out, lifting his hand higher, "My beauty, my baby, my Ducky-Makie."
San exchanges glances with Yunho, checking if they both heard Wooyoung correctly.
"And what does it make?" Yunho asks, barely masking the hint of incredulousness in his voice.
"Ducks, of course," Wooyoung scoffs at them, deciding to demonstrate his creation in action.
The invention looks simple—two wooden handles connected with a bolt in the middle, each ending with a mold of half of a duck's body. The carving of the ducks wears the familiar mark of the gentle strength of Jongho's carving and the nurturing patience of Yeosang's meticulous polishing.
It's made with love and care, yes, but San fails to see what's so special about it.
"It looks like any other toy you can buy in the village market," Yunho points out.
"Pfft, watch me," Wooyoung makes a show of walking towards the snow piled against the castle wall and sticks the toy into it, bringing both parts together. The mold snaps together, and then a soft purple glow appears around it, dragging "ohs" and "wows" out of recruits, who, like little ducklings themselves, pile up behind Wooyoung, still keeping a respectable distance, though.
After waiting for a few seconds, Wooyoung moves a step or two backward and crouches, slowly opening the mold and putting the snow duck on the ground.
At first sight, the duck doesn't differ much from any other snow figurine. The details are slightly more intricate and pronounced, that's for sure, but still, it's just—
And then, all of a sudden, the duck comes alive.
It squeaks, high-pitched and whiny, ruffles up its snow feathers, stands up on its tiny legs, and then marches towards Wooyoung, tilting its head curiously.
The collective "wow" everyone let out, San and Yunho included, must've boosted Wooyoung's ego to the moon.
"So," smugly, Wooyoung looks around, twirling the toy between his fingers, "who wants to try it first?"
Understandably, the recruits start begging him for a chance to try the new toy, and after some intense arguments, they are lined up and patiently but loudly make figurines one by one.
Soon, the backyard is filled with squeaking snow ducks wandering around, magic and cold temperature keeping them "alive." At some point, Yeosang joins them, and then Hongjoong, both taking a bench further from the fire, cooing at "kids having fun." However, soon, childlike wonder gives the stage to cold-blooded calculation and ruthless thinking.
Inevitably, the recruits realize that the snow ducklings can be controlled with the right amount of intention passed through the toy. The snow armies start piling up, troops are being deployed, and soon, the backyard is filled with sounds of a heated battle that doesn't leave out anyone, not even San and Yunho.
A stray duckling lands right into San's face, and, without thinking, he charges into the fight, snatching the toy from Wooyoung's hands and taking to creating his own ducklings, sending them after one specific recruit, who realizes how petty San can be after ten or so ducklings surround him, nipping at his feet, making him scream, "I yield, I yield!"
Then Hongjoong joins, grumbling about the lack of proper discipline and strategy, and in mere minutes, a steady production of ducklings is organized, rows of snowbirds marching into the fight, their beaks ready to snap and bite.
San has no other choice but to help poor recruits hold their defenses, making a pouty face at Wooyoung, who, like a true magician, snatches another toy out of thin air with the flair of a god.
Yunho steps into the fight with the glee of someone ready to win, and the fact that he stands against San, side by side with Hongjoong, only makes the battle all the more exciting. Lastly, San drags Yeosang to join him, knowing that only his wild ideas can somehow beat Hongjoong's strategies.
Time passes way too quickly, and all of a sudden, it's dinner time already, and they have a small audience watching the fight and making bets. Yeosang's ducks are warding their hostage: rosy-cheeked and scuffed-up Yechan, who looks like he's having the best of his life talking to the ducklings sitting on his lap. San had already lost a couple of fighters to Yunho's charming smile and dirty tricks, but he didn't let it affect him, having eyes on Hunter, who acts a tad too cocky, and if only—
A ball of snow smacks against San's face, making him take a few staggering steps back. Shivering from numbing coldness spreading over his face, San quickly looks around, searching for a culprit, and feeling shocked when his eyes land on Yunho, whose hand is still midair after parting with a snowball.
"You," San exhales, half-offended, half-excited, and bends over, putting the toy aside and grabbing a fistful of snow. Something in his face must've shifted because Yunho's smile slowly slides off his lips, and he darts to the side a mere moment before a snowball hits the place where he was.
The rest of the fight, Yeosang's delighted laugh, Hongjoong's mad giggling, and the crowd cheering...it all fades away. San's vision tunnels on Yunho's broad back when he grabs another fistful of snow and lunges forward, forming a misshaped ball on the go.
It smacks against Yunho's back and explodes in chunks of snow, making him stumble. Still, he manages to regain his balance without stopping, but San's hot on his heels. They run in circles around the backyard, their laugh loud and boisterous.
Exhaustion catches up even with the two of them, though. Yunho barely makes it to the altar before he drops on the pile of snow, uncaring how cold or uncomfortable it is. San plops down right beside him. For some time, they're lying like this, panting heavily and not moving. In the meantime, the battle winds down, winners celebrating, defeated ones demanding a rematch tomorrow, both parties pleading with Wooyoung to make more toys, throwing ideas on how to upgrade them. San tunes them out when they start discussing making a full-sized bear with a canon strapped to its back.
"Hey," San says quietly, turning his head to Yunho, "I love you."
"Love you too," Yunho replies with the carefree attitude of someone confident in his words.
Smiling softly, San interlocks their fingers and lets his eyes fall closed for a moment, focusing on the sense of lightness in his heart.
He needed it. Just let it all go and pretend he's just a child with no responsibilities and expectations weighing him down. And even more than that, he needed Yunho by his side, sharing these moments with him.
Blinking his eyes open, San glances at Yunho, his cheeks still flushed from running, windswept hair sticking out at weird angles, sweat and melted snow making it look like a bird's nest. Which actually gives San an idea.
He sits up, barely able to resist Yunho's tired protesting and weak attempts to tug him back into the snow. Looking around, San lets out a small "yay" when he spots one of two toys Wooyoung brought, discarded now that the fight is wrapped up. Picking it up, San carefully untangles his other hand from Yunho's grip, who sits up as well, watching him curiously.
Smiling to himself, San sticks the toy into the snow, drilling it deeper to make sure the mold is packed, and then brings two parts together while envisioning a cute little duckling rubbing its snowy beak against Yunho's nose and making itself a nest in Yunho's hair.
That would look adorable.
A purple mist wraps around the toy for a moment and then drifts away, leaving behind a smell of plums and a barely heard twittering.
San opens the mold, letting a snow duckling fall into his lap.
Up close, it looks even more detailed, its white feathers so well-defined it feels like it can learn to fly any moment. Shaking his head a bit as if confused, the duckling tilts its small head, like it's questioning its creator what to do next.
San takes the duckling in his hands and then carefully plops it down onto Yunho's head, giggling to himself, watching Yunho trying to look up. He even tilts his head a bit, making poor ducky squeak in fear when it loses its balance. Whispering apologies to the snowbird, Yunho freezes on the spot, glancing at him perplexedly.
San is so in love with him his heart hurts.
The words slip off his tongue before he can comprehend them, "That's my gift to you. Happy Spirit's Day."
It's not even the full ritual phrase. San didn't ask for acknowledgment or blessing and didn't indicate the intention at all. The words were meant as a joke, and Yunho's smile shows that he recognized it as such.
The spirits, though....
If not for the white snow reflecting the green flash, neither San nor Yunho would've noticed it. A few people around them gasp, shocked, and Wooyoung whistles loudly, drawing even more attention to them.
At first, San doesn't realize what's happened. His hands are still hovering over Yunho's head, and he reluctantly lowers them, letting their hands interlock again, looking for support. He doesn't even know why.
(He does. He does, and he's scared that he imagined things and nothing happened.)
San can't get his head to turn and face the altar. He just can't. But then Yunho smiles at him encouragingly, gently rubbing his thumb over San's hand, and whispers, "I'm here."
And San trusts him.
Together, they turn their heads towards the altar, their faces morphing into awe as they see the bright purple flame dancing over the stone. There's no one near it besides San and Yunho. No one came closer, and no one made any kind of gift in front of the altar. It's them. The message is for them. And it couldn't have been more clear.
Congratulations. Spirits blessed your gift.
"H-how?" San exhales, slightly lost, his eyes wide open. Yunho is also amazed, even though he doesn't look as shocked. Pleased, more likely. Like he knew the outcome.
"But how?" San repeats more insistently, barely able to turn away from the altar. He knows the flames will be burning for them as long as they stay nearby, but a small part of him is still scared, still assuming that it was all a mistake and it wasn't he whose gift was blessed. That Spirits can withdraw their decision at any moment.
"Mh?" Yunho hums, his eyes finding San's in silent encouragement.
"I don't get it," San's voice comes out whiny with how confused he is. "Why would Five Spirits bless us? I thought they'd do that only if I gave you a perfect gift. Not—" he helplessly gestures at a duckling, still perched peacefully on top of Yunho's head."
Yunho takes a few seconds to process his words and then starts laughing. His body shakes slightly, waking the napping duckling up. It squeaks indignantly, as if warning them, and then lies down again, burying its tiny beak under a snowy wing, magic sparkling over it.
"Hey! Don't laugh at me," San considers pushing Yunho face-first into the snow but then reconsiders it, feeling pity for the poor bird. Despite it being made of snow and not sentient at all. So he just pouts.
"You're my silly San," Yunho ruffles his hair, a smile not leaving his lips. Does he always smile so much when he's with San? Does San make him smile like that? "Just you being right beside me is already the greatest gift. Honestly, I'm surprised we weren't blessed earlier. With how much I love you? And with how much I know you love me? Five Spirits should've blessed us the moment we met."
"Shh!" San can't help but shush him, glancing at the altar worriedly. He doesn't want to risk angering the spirits.
Amusement glints in Yunho's eyes, but he does stop talking. His fingers keep drawing invisible patterns on San's hands.
"I spent so many days preparing a gift for you," San murmurs almost mournfully. "Put so much effort into that dagger, and all it took is...a snow duck."
It's funny in some way. If he doesn't think about the hours he spent running around and all the negotiations, pleadings, and bargains he made to get Yunho something so great even spirits couldn't deny it.
"Snow ducks and a dagger? Sounds like the best gift ever," Yunho chuckles, lifting one hand to cup San's jaw and nudging him to lift his head. "But you know, I've always thought it was never about the gift but the intention. The feelings you have. Your love makes this duck on my head even more special. Just like a dagger would. Because no matter what you give me, your love will remain the same."
And oh. San needed to hear that.
"You know I love you?" He whispers, hopeful. Because no matter how many times he says it, it still feels like mere words can't do his feelings justice.
"I know," Yunho nods, leaning forward and leaving a warm kiss on the corner of San's lips. "Just as much as I love you."
Which is...to the moon and back.