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By now, Louis understood that Ryul was one of Ohyul’s friends, and that in itself made him unusual.
After all, Ohyul didn’t have many friends by choice. People liked him well enough, but he kept almost everyone at a distance. Previously the only other person Louis regularly saw come to the apartment was Woonhak.
The two were nothing alike.
Woonhak’s magical aura was dazzlingly bright. Louis could feel it the moment he entered a room, warm in the same way Woonhak’s smile always was. The first time Louis had ever seen Ohyul smile wider than usual had been while he was talking with Woonhak.
It was also the only time Ohyul ever got really loud. When Woonhak visited, the apartment was filled with noise. They would argue over random things, laugh too loudly at jokes that barely made sense, and occasionally disappear outside for jogs together. Woonhak usually joined Ohyul for those runs without complaint. Louis came along too, sometimes in dog form, sometimes in human form. Taesan only ever joined in as a human.
Woonhak was the sort of person people instinctively trusted, someone that could find belonging in every space he stepped into. Even his scent was comforting. Louis could recognize it immediately, clean and cold like a fresh snowy morning.
Ryul was different in many ways. For one, Louis had never once seen Ryul’s magic. He couldn’t even sense it the way he could sense Woonhak’s aura. If Ryul possessed magic (and Louis assumed he must) he kept it tucked so tightly beneath the surface that it might as well have been invisible.
His expressions were just as difficult to read. Most of the time he had none at all. His face usually settled into a neutral stillness that made him seem distant at first glance, though Louis had begun to recognize the small shifts beneath it.
His hair was almost always styled upward in uneven spikes that gave him a rugged, handsome look. It suited him, made him look sharp. His scent was harder to identify than Woonhak’s. Louis could never quite pin down what it resembled, but he recognized it easily enough when it sometimes lingered faintly on Ohyul’s clothes when he came home. Those days happened often enough now that Louis had started noticing a pattern.
Ryul was also a much more recent addition to Ohyul’s life, compared to Woonhak.
Louis had only started seeing him around in the past few months, so that might have explained some of the reserve between them. Their interactions still carried a carefulness that Ohyul didn’t bother with around Woonhak.
But Ryul was kind to Louis. That had been obvious from the start, even if he hid it behind that unreadable expression. Sometimes he brought treats when he visited, small biscuits that Louis was fairly certain did not come from an ordinary store. They were far better than the ones Ohyul bought, at least.
Ryul had his own kind of playfulness. His humor was quieter than Woonhak’s, usually slipping out in small teasing remarks aimed at Ohyul. Ohyul often glared at him for it, though Ryul never seemed bothered.
Ohyul behaved differently around him, too. With Woonhak, he argued about everything, from magic theory to noodle toppings, and they shoved each other around like brothers, laughing loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
With Ryul, Ohyul didn’t sprawl across the couch or argue for the sake of it.
He sat a little closer than necessary and spoke more quietly. Sometimes he even hesitated, which Louis found extremely suspicious. Ohyul did not hesitate.
He also did strange things like smooth his hair or adjust his clothes whenever Ryul looked at him.
With Woonhak, Ohyul laughed loudly. With Ryul, the sound softened into something smaller and stranger.
And Louis did not approve of that laugh.
Woonhak and Ohyul had never had issues with physical contact. They were constantly grabbing each other, shoving each other around, and sometimes Woonhak would lean his entire weight on Ohyul until Ohyul shoved him off.
It was loud and uncomplicated, the way brothers behaved.
Ohyul and Ryul, however, were ridiculous. At first they barely touched at all. When Ryul first started visiting, they spoke standing a few feet apart. When they sat on the couch, there was always a careful space between them. Louis assumed it would stay that way.
Then they started acting strange.
Their knees would brush and suddenly both of them became extremely interested in the television. Ryul would lean closer while talking, then pause as if remembering he shouldn’t. Ohyul would shift toward him while laughing and then slowly lean back again.
Humans were very inefficient and it was exhausting to watch.
Still, they had recently begun making progress. The gap on the couch had mostly disappeared, which Louis considered a major breakthrough.
It did create one small problem.
Before Ryul started visiting so often, the place he now occupied had belonged to Louis. He was large enough that when he climbed up beside Ohyul there wasn’t much room left for anyone else. Ohyul would drape an arm over his shoulders or bury his fingers in the thick fur at the back of Louis’s neck while reading or watching something on his laptop.
Sometimes Louis would rest his head on Ohyul’s lap and fall asleep there while Ohyul scratched behind his ears; a very comfortable arrangement.
Recently, however, Ryul had begun occupying that space.
It didn’t seem deliberate, as Ryul was not the sort of person who pushed his way into things. But somehow he still ended up sitting there, shoulder close to Ohyul’s, speaking quietly while Ohyul listened with an attention Louis did not usually receive during mundane conversations about magical theory.
Louis had begun positioning himself more strategically. If he climbed onto the couch first, he knew Ohyul would automatically make room for him.
Ryul, to his credit, always accommodated this by shifting slightly farther down. Louis appreciated that.
Still, he had noticed that when Ohyul and Ryul were together on the couch, the space available for a big dog became significantly smaller.
Louis had not yet decided whether Ryul counted as a threat.
At first, Ryul visited only occasionally. He would stop by after class and keep the visit short, sitting at a polite distance and never staying too late.
Over time the visits stretched longer. Ryul started arriving with food for Ohyul as well. Once he brought a bag of fresh bread that filled the apartment with a warm smell Louis liked very much. Another time he showed up with a surplus of soup from his parents, insisting it would go to waste otherwise.
Louis noticed that Ohyul never turned him away.
Soon Ryul began staying for dinner, and that became normal surprisingly quickly. They cooked together in the small kitchen, occasionally bumping into each other in the narrow space. Ryul would talk while he worked, sleeves rolled up, moving around the kitchen as though he already knew where everything was.
Louis usually sat nearby, observing.
Sometimes Ryul tossed him a small piece of meat when Ohyul wasn’t looking. Sometimes Ohyul noticed and pretended he hadn’t.
After dinner they moved to the couch.
At first Ryul sat at the far end, but eventually he stopped doing that. The space between them shrank a little more with each visit. Conversations stretched later into the night, and the television became background noise rather than the reason they were sitting there.
Louis noticed that Ohyul laughed more during those evenings, his eyes crinkling in a way that looked oddly cute compared to his usual stoicism. Ryul seemed pleased every time it happened.
Eventually Ryul began staying very late, late enough that one of them would glance at the clock and say, “We should probably call it a night.”
Ryul would stand, stretch, and then they would linger by the door talking for another fifteen minutes anyway.
Louis often walked over to stand beside Ohyul during these long goodbyes. It seemed like appropriate supervision.
Nothing dramatic happened during them, but Louis noticed the way they looked at each other before Ryul finally stepped outside.
He also noticed the way Ohyul sometimes lingered at the door afterward.
Progress, very slow progress.
Then winter arrived.
Ryul began coming over even more often once the weather turned cold. The walk back to his own place late at night apparently became less appealing. Snow gathered on the sidewalks, and the wind made the streetlights sway slightly outside the windows.
Inside, the heater ran constantly but never quite managed to make the apartment truly warm. The couch, however, was warmer with two people on it.
The night Louis’s suspicions were finally confirmed, the cold had settled in deeply.
Snowflakes drifted past the windows, catching in the yellow streetlight outside. A thin draft slipped under the front door, making the entryway unpleasantly chilly.
The heater was running on its highest setting, humming steadily in the background, but it was an old system and not particularly powerful.
Luckily for Louis, he had a thick coat in canine form.
The apartment itself had gone quiet in that comfortable way it did late at night. The television played softly, casting flickering light across the room.
Ohyul sat curled into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked under him, eyes focused on the screen.
Ryul sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed whenever one of them shifted. Neither had moved away.
On the rug, Louis lay stretched out with his chin resting on his paws. He watched as the same scene he had seen many times before unfold in front of him.
Humans had strange ways of circling around things. They would sit close, lean toward each other, and pretend nothing was happening.
They had been inching closer for nearly an hour now. A shift here, a lean there. Louis noticed the way Ryul’s knee had come to rest against Ohyul’s, and the way he never quite moved away again.
The last time they had done this, Ryul had managed to put his arm around Ohyul’s shoulders. They had been sitting much the same way they were now, one weekend, the television casting shifting light across the room, both of them angled slightly toward the screen while pretending to pay attention to it.
Ryul had started the night sitting normally, leaving a polite amount of space between them, although that hadn’t lasted long.
A few minutes passed in relative quiet. The TV continued playing, light flickering across the walls. Outside, the wind rattled faintly against the windows.
Ryul leaned back into the couch cushions.
“Wait,” he said after a moment, gesturing lazily toward the screen. “Why didn’t he just tell her the truth earlier?”
Ohyul blinked. “What?”
“The main guy,” Ryul said, gesturing lightly at the screen. “And his sister. If he already knew she was lying, why didn’t he say something?”
Ohyul stared at the television. The scene had changed twice while he’d been thinking about something else entirely. “…I don’t know,” he said finally.
Ryul tilted his head slightly. “Did you see the part with his sister?”
Ohyul shifted. “I mean, yeah. I just… didn’t catch that.”
Ryul studied him for a moment. “Right.”
The show continued and Ohyul’s fingers tightened unconsciously in the blanket pooled in his lap. He wasn’t really cold anymore. Between the weak heater and the blanket, the apartment was warm enough. Still, something restless sat under his skin.
He was very aware of Ryul beside him. The quiet heat of his body. The occasional brush of their shoulders when one of them shifted. The soft sound of his breathing when the room fell silent between lines of dialogue.
It made Ohyul strangely tense, which didn’t make much sense. He liked Ryul being there- that was the problem. He wanted Ryul to move closer. The thought sat in his chest like a stubborn weight. He wanted Ryul to put his arm around him again the way he had last time.
But he wasn’t about to say that out loud, and he definitely wasn’t going to initiate it.
So instead he sat there pretending to watch the show while his thoughts wandered in increasingly unhelpful directions.
On the rug, Louis watched him carefully.
After another ten minutes, Ryul spoke again. “Okay, wait.”
Ohyul looked up. “What?”
Ryul pointed at the television. “So now his sister is trying to help him again? Didn’t she betray him earlier?”
Ohyul stared at the screen. He had no idea what Ryul was talking about.
“…Maybe,” he said. Ryul didn’t respond. The silence that followed stretched a little longer than usual. When Ohyul glanced sideways, Ryul was watching him again.
This time his expression was different.
“Hey,” Ryul said quietly.
“What?”
“Are you good?”
Ohyul looked back at the television. “I’m fine.”
Ryul didn’t move for a moment. Then, with a soft click, the television went silent as Ryul paused the show. The sudden quiet filled the room. Outside, the wind scraped along the side of the building. The heater hummed faintly in the background.
Ohyul shifted under the weight of Ryul’s attention.
“…Why did you pause it?”
Ryul didn’t answer immediately. He leaned back slightly, studying him in the dim light.
“You’ve barely watched ten minutes of this,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Ryul repeated.
Ohyul looked down at his hands and for a few seconds neither of them spoke.
Louis lifted his head slightly from the rug.
Ryul finally sighed. “You were quiet earlier too,” he said. “When I asked you a question the first time..”
“What?”
“When I asked why you seemed distracted during that scene.”
“Oh.”
Ryul tilted his head slightly. “Ohyul.”
“What.”
“You can just tell me if something’s bothering you, you know that?”
Ohyul didn’t answer, the silence stretching again. Louis watched the two of them with intense interest. Finally Ryul spoke again, softer this time. “…Or,” he added carefully, “you can keep pretending nothing’s wrong.”
Ohyul exhaled slowly through his nose. He didn’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t exactly that something was wrong.
He just-
By this point in the night they were usually sitting a little closer. His shoulders tightened slightly under the blanket.
Ryul hesitated for a second, before reaching out slowly and resting his hand against Ohyul’s arm, the touch warm and gentle.
Ohyul went still. Ryul watched his reaction carefully. “…Is this it?” he asked quietly.
Ohyul’s face warmed slightly, not answering, but he didn’t pull away either. Ryul smiled knowingly.
“Okay,” he said softly.
And this time, when he slid his arm around Ohyul’s shoulders, he didn’t ask first. His arm settled more naturally against Ohyul with more certainty than Louis had ever seen before.
Ohyul shifted a little under the blanket, moving closer to lean against him. Ryul’s breath caught for half a second before he forced himself to stay still.
The blanket had slipped during all of this. Cold air crept in along the edges where it had loosened around them. Without saying anything, Ohyul tugged the blanket higher around his shoulders. Ryul immediately moved his other arm to help, pulling the other side across both of them so that it wrapped around them together.
Both of them paused. Then, almost at the same time, they continued tucking the blanket around each other like this was a completely normal thing for them to be doing. The cheap fleece crackled with the sound of static electricity, making Louis grimace.
When they finished, their shoulders were pressed together beneath the shared warmth. Ohyul’s head tipped slightly toward Ryul’s shoulder as he settled back into the couch, like the position had been inevitable all along.
Once again, they were pretending to watch the television very intently, Louis could tell.
The corners of Ryul’s mouth lifted. Louis, watching from the floor, was fairly certain neither of them had absorbed a single second of the show in the last five minutes. Ryul adjusted the blanket again, this time pulling Ohyul a little closer with it. They both looked giddy, and uncharacteristically shy.
It continued like that for a while, quiet and warm under the blanket, until Ryul spoke again. “...Ohyul?”
“Yeah?”
Ryul hesitated, actually taking a breath before he continued. Louis had never seen him this uncertain. “Is it always this easy to lose track of time with you?”
Ohyul blinked at him drowsily. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” Ryul rubbed his neck. “Like… when I come over thinking I’ll just stay for an hour.”
“Mm-hm.”
“And then suddenly it’s midnight.”
Ohyul huffed a small laugh. “That’s because you never leave.”
“Maybe.” Ryul glanced at him, unabashed. “…Well, you never tell me to.”
Ohyul looked away, returning his gaze to the TV. “Maybe it’s because I don’t mind.”
Louis’s tail gave one slow, deliberate thump against the floor. He truly could not take this anymore. Both of them glanced down immediately.
“You’re still awake, Lou?” Ohyul asked. Louis blinked up at him, entirely unrepentant. Without hesitation, Louis rose to his feet, moving toward the couch with purpose. The two mages watched him approach with amusement.
Louis placed one enormous paw on the cushion.
“Lou-”
Too late.
Louis climbed up anyway, inserting himself into the narrow space beside Ohyul and the armrest as if it had always been intended for him. Which it clearly had not.
“Oh my god-” Ohyul laughed under his breath as Louis continued pushing forward with stubborn determination. His weight displaced Ohyul, knocking him into Ryul.
“Sorry,” Ohyul said quickly, trying to sit upright again without shoving either Louis or Ryul off the couch.
Ryul didn’t move away. His arm shifted behind Ohyul along the back of the couch, steadying him without making a big deal of it. “It’s alright,” he said, amused.
Louis finally settled, curling his massive body along the edge of the cushion and dropping his chin contentedly onto Ohyul’s thigh.
Ryul glanced down at him, a spark of mischief in his eyes.
“Actually,” he murmured, reaching over to scratch behind Louis’s ear with appreciation, “thank you.”
Louis’s tail flicked once against the cushion, slow and satisfied.
Problem solved.
The television continued flickering quietly across the room, filling the silence with soft voices and shifting light.
“...Ohyul,” Ryul said softly after a while.
“Hm?” Ohyul turned his head slightly.
They were very close now, closer than Louis had ever seen them get.
“Can I ask you something?” Ryul said.
“You already are,” Ohyul replied, slightly guarded this time. Ryul huffed a quiet laugh at that, but the anxiety didn’t leave his face. Once again, he looked unsure.
“That was the easy question,” Ryul said, jokingly.
Ohyul glanced at him sideways. “This sounds dangerous.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re smiling too much.” Ryul didn’t deny it.
The television light flickered softly across both their faces.
“…Do you ever think about how often I’m here?” Ryul asked.
Ohyul blinked. “What?”
“I mean,” Ryul continued quietly. “I come over almost every day now.”
“Oh.” Ohyul shrugged lightly. “Yeah.”
“And you’ve never told me to stop.”
Ohyul let out a soft scoff. “Why would I?”
Ryul’s gaze lingered on him, quiet but deliberate. “I don’t know… I thought you might, at some point.”
Ohyul turned fully toward him, a flicker of curiosity mixed with exasperation in his eyes. “What’s gotten into you today?”
Ryul tilted his head slightly, as if silently asking the same question.
Ohyul glanced at him. “You’re the one who keeps showing up.”
“…And you keep letting me in.”
Ohyul narrowed his eyes, heat coiling in his chest. “Then why are we having this conversation again?”
Ryul paused. “…Because most people would have gotten annoyed by now.”
Ohyul laughed. “You’re not most people.”
Ryul’s gaze softened, a knowing smile touching his lips. “I might have been hoping.”
A faint ripple of magic stirred in the room, subtle enough that a human probably wouldn’t notice it. The warmth of it drifted through the space between them, brushing lightly against Louis’s fur like the echo of a heartbeat.
“...You were?” Ohyul said faintly.
Ryul said nothing, letting the pause stretch, letting the warmth settle, letting Ohyul feel the subtle pull in the air.
Louis’s ears twitched; he could feel the faint, steady rhythm of their hearts, their quiet hope vibrating through the soft pulse of magic.
“Have you figured it out now?”
“…You’re unbelievable,” Ohyul muttered, shaking his head softly with a smile.
“I know,” Ryul grinned. “But I thought I was being obvious.”
“You?” Ohyul’s laugh was soft, incredulous. “Nothing about you is obvious.”
Louis’s ears twitched.
Then Ohyul went quiet, letting the weight of the moment settle. “…Ryul,” he said.
“Mm?”
Ohyul hesitated. “…You still haven’t actually said it.”
Ryul blinked, then laughed softly, eyes full of warmth and affection. “…I guess I was hoping you’d keep pretending not to know a little longer.”
Ohyul rolled his eyes playfully, gesturing for him to go on.
Ryul shook his head. “Well, this is probably the least romantic way I could have done this,” he admitted, taking a deep breath.
Ohyul smiled, his eyes bright, shiny with something unspoken.
Ryul only reached out to take Ohyul’s hand in his, fingers curling around it gently, thumb brushing lightly along the back of his hand.
“I like you,” Ryul said with quiet certainty.
Louis felt Ohyul’s pulse quicken immediately, though it had already been racing.
“I’ve liked you for a while,” he admitted softly. “I’ve never been happier spending so much time with anyone else.”
Ohyul’s other hand rested lightly against Ryul’s arm, fingers flexing against him without letting go. Ryul let his gaze follow the movement, then returned to Ohyul’s eyes.
“I kept thinking I’d say something sooner,” he continued. “But every time I saw you, I’d tell myself I could wait one more day.”
His smile turned a little sheepish.
“And if you had told me to stop coming over at some point, I probably would’ve.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “…But I’m really glad you didn’t.”
Ohyul exhaled shakily, letting the quiet settle. The television murmured softly in the background.
Then Ryul shifted slightly. “Actually…”
He slid his hand beneath Ohyul’s, warm and steady, enveloping it gently. He didn’t need to say anything- Ohyul could feel the pulse of his intent, the careful focus, the quiet rush of emotion flowing through his magic.
The air above their joined hands rippled faintly. Louis lifted his head, ears twitching in curiosity.
Soft threads of pale light began to gather, delicate and shimmering, as if drawn from the very warmth between them. The glow thickened, twisting slowly, carrying Ryul’s heartbeat, his hopes, and his certainty, until a rose bloomed in the space above their hands.
It was fragile and perfect, spun from translucent threads of light, glowing softly like spun glass.
The rose trembled for a moment, then drifted gently downward, settling into Ohyul’s hand as if it had always belonged there. The warmth of it seeped into his palm, steady and steadying, like sunlight spilling through leaves, carrying the weight of Ryul’s feelings without a single word spoken.
Ohyul blinked at it, awe and a soft smile spreading across his face.
Ryul looked mildly sheepish again. “…I was going to plan something better,” he admitted, “bring you something more impressive. But this is what I’ve got right now.”
The rose hovered in the gentle glow of their shared warmth, alive and delicate, a quiet pulse threading through it.
“I’ll do a proper confession later,” Ryul promised quietly.
The moment Ohyul’s fingers touched the rose, it felt as if spring had arrived early right there in his hand.
He watched, captivated, as the delicate petals shifted slowly, threads of gold and pale light weaving together so intricately they seemed almost alive, almost breathing.
“I’m not sure how you’re going to top this later,” Ohyul said. His fingers brushed along the glowing petals.
"I have some ideas," Ryul smiled. Then his expression shifted slightly, curiosity flickering across his face as the glow began to brighten.
Louis’s ears twitched, alert to the faint hum of magic rippling through the room. The energy made his fur prickle with anticipation.
“Ah…” Ohyul let out a small breath of surprised laughter. The rose trembled in his hand, responding to the quiet flood of emotion he hadn’t realized he was letting go.
“My magic’s being terrible at staying calm right now,” he admitted. There was a quiet, breathless happiness in his voice. Louis could feel it clearly through the familiar bond between them- an overflowing brightness that made his chest feel full.
Ohyul finally lifted his gaze back to Ryul.
The glowing petals began slipping loose from the rose, one by one, drifting upward like tiny fragments of starlight.
Neither of them tried to stop it.
“…I like you too,” Ohyul said quietly. His voice had dropped to something softer now, reverent. “I really like you.”
The words seemed to unlock something deep inside him, a hidden reservoir of hope and certainty. The magic answered immediately.
The rose dissolved in his hand with a gentle pulse of light, bursting into dozens of glowing motes that floated lazily between them weightlessly. They brushed against Ryul’s shoulders, tangled in Ohyul’s hair, and Louis felt it sink into his fur like sunlight. Outside, the winter wind pressed cold against the windows; inside, the air was thick with warmth.
Ohyul let out an embarrassed laugh. “…I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I destroyed it.”
“It’s okay,” Ryul said, watching as the last sparks faded between them. “I’ll make you another. I’ll make you as many as you want.”
Louis watched them with growing astonishment. He had not known the two of them were capable of saying such things.
He felt a complicated mixture of emotions watching them- a flicker of jealousy stirred, fleeting, because Ohyul had always belonged to him first. But it was quickly eclipsed by happiness because his mage deserved this more than anything else.
Ohyul went quiet again, gaze soft and thoughtful.
“What’s that look for?” Ryul asked gently.
“I’m just thinking,” Ohyul said, shrugging faintly.
Ryul sighed dramatically. “That’s never good.”
“…I’m thinking that if I don’t do this right now,” he said, breath catching, “I’m going to regret it.”
“Do wha-”
The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush, tentative and careful. Ohyul’s fingers tightened slightly in Ryul’s sweater, leaning in, feeling warmth bloom across his cheeks.
Ryul made a low, approving sound against his lips, sliding a hand around Ohyul’s waist, drawing him closer without force.
They lingered like that, exploring each other with quiet care, the intensity of everything they’d been holding back pressing between them. Their embrace tightened naturally, breaths mingling, bodies pressed closer and closer together.
Louis, with zero subtlety, heaved himself up and unceremoniously plopped across their laps. The sudden weight nearly knocked them both sideways as his massive body descended upon them like a furry boulder.
“Lou!” Ohyul yelped, laughing out of surprise. “You little meddler!”
Ryul chuckled, adjusting quickly as they both scrambled upright to accommodate Louis’s sudden intrusion. “Some things can’t be done without his blessing.” He scratched Louis’s head apologetically. “Sorry you had to witness all that, Lou.”
Louis had seen enough television to know that things were shifting between them, that their world was about to look a little different from now on. As Ohyul’s familiar, he had every right to oversee the proceedings, and perhaps make sure nobody got too carried away without his approval.