Archive of Our Own

it’s a W.

while not uncommon, there will be times where the letter on someone’s right wrist might indicate an alphabet other than A, B or O. sometimes it would be blank, if your soulmate hasn’t presented yet. or it could be due to some genetic defects or underlying health conditions. sometimes it would show a dash, if they were non-human, like a mercreature. or a fairy. sometimes, it’s another alphabet, like the one that has been written on san’s wrist.

W.

it’s different. it stares at him in perfect symmetry. and then there’s the three digits on his left wrist. 

san’s pack comes from the mountains, so they have their accessories in silver- their form of identification. silver pack rings. it is a tradition that many packs still stick to, despite the slowly modernising communities.

other packs that also come from the mountainside would still wear silver, but probably with different pack jewellery unique to them. like silver chokers or silver anklets, likely designed by pack leader or luna. 

packs from the sea would adorn themselves with shells, pearls or corals. those from the forests would wear gold- or perhaps make jewellery out of special flowers or tree branches, to differentiate themselves. either way, regardless of where you came from, packs would have a distinct identifier adorned on their body.

apart from regular necklaces and bracelets, choi san wears two bangles to cover the marks on his wrists. to avoid all possible questions about it. 126. what on earth- any random person would also think it’s insane. maybe it’s some error in his genes, something wrong with his blood or his hormones.

126!

it’s probably the bodily equivalent of a typo. it’s 26, right? there’s been medical studies that showed couples that seemed like destined pairs with numbers and alphabets that did not tally. there are anomalies in every dataset.

so maybe there really is something wrong with him.

“mangi, as much as i love seeing your cute face, you need to stop looking for me!” wooyoung sulks as he cleans the cut, applies some seaweed jelly salve, “i know you love me, but seriously… okay, there, all done,”

“thank you,” mingi will shyly say, as always, because wooyoung always showers him with tender loving care. clumsy as he is, despite the tall stature and broad shoulders, mingi comes by more often than not, which greatly exasperates wooyoung.

in thanks, mingi will always take advantage of their height difference to pick wooyoung up and twirl him around, like a princess. they end up chatting away as wooyoung patches up his little cuts and scratches.

the healer will tell him not to be silly, even though he likes being carried around, manhandled. mingi knows, too. he understands what it’s like to be the princess of a pack. 

“wooyoung. actually, you haven’t met the entirety of our pack- there’s someone i’d like to introduce you to,” mingi grins, “he’s broader than me, a little shorter, but i promise he’s sweet! i think you’re a good match, he-”

“you guys need to stop matchmaking me! i fare just fine living alone,” the healer punches him playfully, “your entire pack is crazy. obsessed with my love life! i swear i am doing okay-”

“but he’s cute-!”

“so what!”

“and he’s an alpha!”

“and so what!”

the pack mingi comes from is a bit different than others- since they’re all about the same age, there isn’t a hard and fast hierarchy established. other packs have it clear, by age, who is hyung or noona, which makes their soulmarks easily differentiated. in mingi’s pack, almost everyone has the same number- it convolutes things, as they’ve all crossed paths at roughly the same age too.

“don’t come back, mangi,” wooyoung will always tease, when he sends mingi off with extra gauze and candies and herbal tea, “or that would mean i have to patch you up again,”

“you can’t stop me! if i want to see the pack’s little healer girlfriend, then i will!”

“oh come on…” 

sometimes the expansive cottage craves some liveliness.

sometimes mingi comes back bearing thank you gifts, cute items. extra food on good hunting days, with other pack members tagging along to say hello.

today, mingi’s gift comes in the form of an alpha.

that is how wooyoung first meets san, formally.

san goes to the healer’s cottage, given hushed directions. the path to the cottage is hidden, via a secret passage from the outermost cave, near to the sea. the cottage is almost seaside, but protected by the curve of a headland and bay.

san wanders through the sand and caverns as told, amazed by how such a lovely place with seemingly perfect flora and fauna has been hidden so exquisitely. you really wouldn’t know someone lived here, unless you sought them out specifically. mingi had given him detailed directions and sent wooyoung a note prior, to expect a gift he will like.

there are racks of fish and meat left outside to dry. a black lace parasol by the entrance. some black robes and pants hanging on a clothesline. small jars of glittery, fluttery things inside, stacked next to budding plum blossoms- rare naiad butterflies. entranced, san walks over to take a closer look at the glowing jars, then gets startled when he hears a voice.

“who’s there?” a lithe man leaning against the doorframe says, arms crossed and brow raised. “please do not touch my magical ingredients.”

“t-that was not my intention, sorry,” san immediately bows, stepping away from the jars. “uh, i’m here for… well, mingi and um, seonghwa hyung sent me here.” for the lack of better words, san just shows his arms, lifts his pants legs. “for these?”

“oh, goodness,” he didn’t realise there was a black cat perched on the smaller man's shoulder, until the cat jumps off and starts using its head to nudge san forward. “you’d better come in. geomdaengi! come here! don’t be rude to our guest,” he collects the black cat, ushers san in.

“i’m wooyoung,” he motions for san to sit, and san thinks it’s cute how wooyoung has named his cat a cute version of soot. sootie, like a little soot sprite with big round eyes. the cat is already helping to nudge a pail over, meowing and pawing at a clean cloth. the cottage interior is much bigger than it looks, like an optical illusion of a dainty house from outside. 

“geomdaengi! calm down. don’t fuss just because you see a pretty face…” he steals a peek, satisfied when san blushes, “please, sit down. disrobe.”

san blinks at the bluntness, but does as told anyway.

“i’m san,” the alpha says back awkwardly, only to be met with a sweet smile. he shrugs off his clothes, revealing more cuts and bruises, otherwise golden tanned skin. all superficial wounds, thankfully. nothing a little antiseptic and soothing cream can’t do. maybe some ambrosia as a treat, and the alpha will be back to normal.

“i know.” wooyoung tries to hide a smile, “you’ve come to the right place, san.”

san had been keeping watch at night, and thankfully, the rest were unharmed. it was a rogue attack from a newly merged pack, hence it was their young brute strength and sheer numbers that made up for disorderly chaos and frenzied behaviour.

san had alerted their pack leader, who was a great runner, and reinforcements had been called before any real damage was done.

san takes off everything until he’s clad in undergarments, but doesn’t take off the silver bracelets. wooyoung doesn’t probe. he understands what the soulmarks under might mean, why jewellery is so important. 

many people cover their marks up, because it is as intricate as it is intimate. it’s more than just a simple birthmark- it symbolises the fate that was bestowed upon you; it symbolises whether someone has been bequeathed a special person, or where one has emerged victorious against this ominous, sacred word called ‘fate’.

wooyoung gently dabs at the congealing cuts, blows at his wounds when san winces. geomdaengi is rendering herself as a stress ball, just like she does when mingi comes over to get bandaged up.

“does it hurt, pup?”

san makes a little wounded noise, shakes his head. he doesn’t quite know what to say, apart from how nobody in his pack had the decency to tell him that their resident healer, hidden away from the world, was otherworldly. so gorgeous. a hidden beauty.

wooyoung is packing up some angelica root as a ‘blood tonic’ for him to brew and drink to get better. but san dawdles and takes his time, loitering- because he wants to see wooyoung for a bit longer. he seldom falls sick, so maybe there won’t be any reason to come back.

the healer blushes when he notices san intensely gazing at him, then looking away when their eyes meet. wooyoung packs some ginseng, adds some honey plums as well.

ah, so he’s staying around to stare at me? mingi was right. he is indeed cute.

“want some hot chocolate?”

“oh! that would be nice,” san looks at him with eyes crinkled into crescents, “thank you,”

“stop pacing. make yourself comfortable,” wooyoung tries not to laugh, “i’ll make it sweet.”

wooyoung’s people originate from the seaside, so he often wears pearls.

san, who ardently tries to see what wooyoung’s wrists say, always emerges inconclusive; for wooyoung’s hands are delicately lined with pearls, just like the single pearl on his ear that dangles when he laughs. a pearl that resembles a teardrop.

san starts coming back with all sorts of excuses. 

tummy ache. migraine. chest discomfort. knees hurting. blisters. lower back pain. sore feet. heat rash. insect bites. sometimes indeed, a gash or two that warrants his visit.

however, wooyoung thinks it’s cute.

geomdaengi likes san. the alpha always comes with dried anchovies or other treats for her, which is sweet of him. the company is quite nice, wooyoung has to admit. he’s been all alone in his own world for so many years, wandering until he set up his new cottage here, by the sea. mastered his protection spells and is now able to cast one large invisible net to protect his sacred space. the violent, tempestuous waves will no longer be allowed to take the things beloved to him.

“w-wooyoung! help!” san is stumbling into his cottage, “uhm!” san is sulking, arms outstretched to show the raised, itchy welts, “help,”

“oh, san- goodness me, why are you breaking out in hives!” wooyoung fusses, and geomdaengi uses her head to nudge san into a chair, fetching him a cushion between her teeth. “thank you, my sweet girl,” san scratches her ears, not at all fazed by the redness on his skin. “sorry, no treats today,”

“san! this must be an allergy! what did you have for lunch? or did you touch something in the forest, like parsnips or foxglove- never mind, eat this first,” wooyoung shoves a spoonful of honey into his mouth, lathers on some cold aloe vera gel onto his arms. geomdaengi is meowing, using her paws and head to paste persimmon leaves onto the welts on san’s calves.

“oh, i’m allergic to sesame,” san softly mumbles, the kitten now curled close to his tummy, comforting him. geomdaengi is a fast worker, and the healer is always pleased with her handiwork. wooyoung’s busy mixing up crushed mint leaves and cashews, sprinkled with apricot and bermuda buttercups. the colour of the persimmon leaves are changing, indicating any prevalent toxin is being absorbed.

“mm, allergies common in babies,” wooyoung smiles to himself, distilling the mix through some sort of flask. san swears he sees wooyoung gesturing in the air, but that could’ve been his eyes playing tricks. “san-ah, this could’ve been serious, you need to recall what you ate or touched, and remember. it could be life threatening! thankfully you came here quickly, are you not aware how people have died in minutes from asphyxiation-”

“i ate sesame,” san quietly says, unable to look wooyoung in the eye, eyes instead trained on geomdaengi’s shiny black fur. “just a little. sorry.”

wooyoung blinks. frowns as he puts down the nourishing bowl of a remedy. 

what is he saying. san is aware of his allergy, but he ate sesame seeds, still? what on earth, why would he- that’s impossible-! he ate something he was allergic to so he had a reason to see me?! what the heck?!

wooyoung flushes a ruby red at the thought, and when san steals a glance to see his flustered expression, he knows his cover’s been blown.

“san.” wooyoung is trying to be stern, hands on his hips, but he is always so terribly fond of one particular alpha. the bumps of san’s skin seem to be subsiding, instead goosebumps rising when wooyoung touches him. “you-!”

“um! if you’re going to spank me, can you at least count to three first,” san juts out his lower lip, “sorry.”

“san…” wooyoung gently says, taking his hands, shifting a chair to sit next to him. so close, in his large cottage space, until their knees touch. “you don’t need to eat things you’re allergic to, just so you can drop by, pup.” wooyoung’s eyes are glistening, lips pursed. “don’t do that again, okay?”

“so… no spanking?” san is blinking nervously now, a cute habit, lips so pouty. “are you mad?”

“the question should be, have you gone mad,” the healer mumbles, inspecting the flattening welts on the alpha’s arms and legs, peeling off the persimmon leaves. hm. almost back to normal. good. “i don’t think so..?”

“i am a little upset, but only because this could’ve been very serious, san-ah. do you understand? you could’ve lost your life if you ate more… allergies are not something to mess around with, pup,”

a big, strong, brooding alpha, that turns into a cute, wounded pup the moment he steps foot into my home. what kind of sorcery is this? and why do i have such a soft spot for him when he gives me that face? that silly little kitten face, just like how geomdaengi asks for more treats.

wooyoung wonders where all his resolve has gone- the snobby tilt of his head, the crossed arms, the vehement denial and obstinate gaze when dealing with the rest of the pack; no! i don’t like him! nothing’s going on between us! mind your business!

and yet, when it’s just him and san privately, all reason goes out of the window. it’s just so hard to remain aloof and nonchalant around san.

“o-okay, i know. sorry. won’t happen again,” san chews on his lip, embarrassed, “i’ll eat your medicine and i can go. sorry-”

“hey. i just remembered, san-ah. i have something in the oven,” wooyoung snaps his fingers, and as if on cue, something dings. there’s the warm, buttery aroma of baked goods.

“what, how come you always have delicious pastries ready just like that..?” wooyoung just rolls his eyes, forces san to drink the murky herbal brew. plucks some sweet boysenberries from the windowsill, shoves them into san’s mouth so that he won’t sulk about the bitter aftertaste. 

“magic,” wooyoung smiles as he skips into the kitchen and serves a rhubarb tart for two. since rhubarb is toxic to cats, magical familiar or companion aside, wooyoung makes geomdaengi a small baked sweet potato instead. “here you are, sweetpea. easy on the treats sannie always brings you, okay? you’ve been too pampered, hm? let’s have something healthy today.”

then he turns to san, puts the perfectly sliced tart in front of him, dragging the alpha’s chair to the dining table. it surprises san that wooyoung doesn’t seem to have difficulty with his weight, and that there’s no screech against the floor. it felt a bit like he was floating, honestly. 

“eat, san.” then just to tease him, “this has zero sesame.”

“oh, okay.” san holds the fork in his hand, looks at wooyoung apologetically, “what happens if i still feel itchy?”

“it’s normal,” wooyoung grimaces, folding his arms, “although i must say, i’m not the one who felt bewitched enough to have a death wish,”

when san only whines and makes a tiny mewl, awfully embarrassed now, wooyoung relents and pats his head from across the dining table to appease him. massages his scalp, so his hands have an excuse to stay, caressing fluffy black hair. “there, there. allergies are like that, pup. you can have another spoonful of honey if you want?”

san nods and pouts, “but what happens if it’s still itchy and it hurts?” wooyoung sighs. “then i have to accompany you to the village hospital, alpha. that would be pretty serious. they’ll need to draw blood and do injections, run more tests,” wooyoung pads about the house, adds some rose sugar into the scoop of honey and guides it to san’s pouty lips.

“oh!” san’s eyes go wide, “never mind, then. i’m okay!” sticky goodness coating his tongue, he happily digs into the tart, eyes closed as he chews. it’s delicious, everything in wooyoung’s house always is. except for the nasty medicine when he gets hurt. mingi hates it too, the bitter brown stuff- but it really helps with the healing.

he wants something, wooyoung thinks, the way he’s going in circles. goodness, imagine almost risking your life just to get a healer’s attention- this alpha has lost his damn mind!

“i can kiss it better,” wooyoung blurts out of nowhere, the dots connecting in his head. “isn’t that what you…”

san starts choking on his tart, and wooyoung knows he’s hit the nail on the head when san is blushing the shade of rhubarbs on his plate. “i-it’s okay, uhm! the honey… it’s good, i’m good-” wooyoung gently cups his warm cheeks, kisses his forehead.

“better now, sannie?”

“all better!” san jumps out of his seat, just to prove a point- and the impact makes the plates clatter, makes wooyoung lose his balance and tumble into san’s chest as a heap of laughter. even the chair’s fallen from san’s abrupt movement, landing with a thud. “oh god, sorry, did i hurt you?”

“no, never,” wooyoung laughs, rests his head between san’s neck and shoulder, “quite the contrary.”

san’s warm hands trail up, from his hips to steady him, now to his waist. gentle, grounding. wooyoung feels like maybe his heart fluttered, with how warm san’s gaze is. sweet as honey. gooey and syrupy, like pie filling.

“y-you’re always free to drop by,” wooyoung steadies his gaze, hands playing with the nape of san’s neck, “you aren’t allowed in only if you ate things you know you’re allergic to.”

“i said sorry,” san pouts, gives him the poutiest lips he can  possibly muster, “i won’t do it again!”

“okay, i believe you, pup.” wooyoung laughs, nuzzles his head against san’s chest, kind of like what geomgdaengi does when she wants attention, “but now i feel a bit hurt, you know? so much additional distress that could be prevented, san-ah.”

“ah… well, i guess… i could kiss it better..?”

wooyoung purrs when san takes his time to leave a long smooch on his forehead. just like a black kitten in his hold.

san has always thought of wooyoung as beautiful- the single pearl that sits flush on his right earlobe reminds him of an ethereal painting he once saw. 

a portrait of a noblewoman, that was exhibited when she graced the nearby village on a diplomatic visit. eyes hypnotic and lips slightly parted, the noblewoman stared directly at the viewer. the painting was so beautiful and entranced so many that it became a permanent, staple work in the gallery downtown.

maybe in another life, soulmate or not, san would’ve been a grand duke- someone rich and powerful, someone who could have words with enough weight to pick his own bride. and then he would’ve picked wooyoung, who, regardless of what title or ranking of his own, would then become his duchess; wooyoung would become his beautiful spouse, his duchess with a pearl earring.

but that would remain as fantasy, his own wishful desires. san doesn’t know what lies on wooyoung’s wrists. should their soulmarks be a mismatch, would he be willing to take a chance and get to know san further, romantically? or would he only be comfortable with the status quo of healer and clumsy alpha?

so many questions, that san buries deep in his heart- but that spark of hope always rekindles, whenever wooyoung dotes on him with melty soft asymmetrical eyes.

wooyoung doesn’t understand why, but san seems to have come up with his own nickname for him. rather than offended or upset, he’s intrigued by the sudden nickname that seems to have no relation between them. 

my duchess, san has started calling him these days, but wooyoung can tell it’s not at all a joke- the way san will murmur it shyly, with utmost sincerity. he’s flattered that san is somehow using a royal title with him, so he indulges the alpha all the same. my grand duke, wooyoung would return the endearment, and san would flush a beet red that made his heart feel all fond.

today, san claims he has a sore throat.

“san-ah?” wooyoung gently tells him, san’s forehead a perfectly normal temperature to touch, “you’re healthy. perfectly fine. you’re probably not drinking enough water. you don’t need to-” then he smiles, walking towards his drawers, “ah. did you like the honey with rose sugar from the previous time? i’ll fetch a-”

“uh, i… i’m- do you help with matters of the heart? i heard yeosang comes here sometimes to talk,”

“my help depends on what matters you might be referring to, alpha,” wooyoung laughs as he arranges some things in his apothecary cabinet, with its endless compartments, each labelled as different magical ingredients. “wanna start sharing?”

“um. it’s about my soulmate,” san quietly says, “i think… maybe something is wrong with my body.”

wooyoung’s expression turns somber.

“remind me again, san- how old were you when you first came around to get those gashes cleaned and dressed?”

“i dunno, 26? 27? wait… under a year ago, so 27? why?”

so you were born in the summer. we’ve met before, san. crossed paths one time in august. you were by the sea, with your pack. swimming, cooling off and splashing water at each other in cute fun. i was there, with my black parasol. closer to the black sand on the other side. high tide the previous day- i was looking for the starry clam shells, iridescent blue ones. i was born in winter. the age makes sense. so it’s really you- if my hunch is right, that is.

“you’re still young, pup,” wooyoung deftly steers the conversation away, getting the information he needs. not at all noticing san blushing at the little endearment. “now. why do you think something is wrong?”

chewing on his lips, san mumbles the reason why he always wears lots of silver chains and bangles tightly around his wrists. “the number and alphabet look ridiculous, see?”

san hesitates, but takes off his bangles anyway- they clatter, like armour falling to the ground. he presents wooyoung his wrists. vulnerable, tender flesh.

the healer gasps, then flushes. 

oh my. so it’s him. this is my alpha. it has to be, right? 

who else could possibly be over a century old and with letter W? he does have a soft spot for san, who looks rough and intimidating, but is actually so sweet and cute inside.

“it’s a W,” wooyoung murmurs, tracing the ink on san’s wrists, warmth seeping into the alpha’s skin. “gosh, 126?”

“yeah. i think it’s some glitch in my body. would make sense to be 12 or 26, right? the age of my soulmate when we first crossed paths?” san sighs, rubs at the tender flesh from the bangles, “even if the age is real, it probably means the person is a supernatural entity- and what are the odds we will be okay? get along? will we even understand each other? and what on earth… mercreature? vampire? siren?”

“hmm. that’s a tough one,” wooyoung says back, offering a wistful smile, pausing his stock take. the quill gets tucked behind his ear. “you think the age gap is weird?”

“it’s more like i think it won’t work out. the person’s gotta be so old… maybe our ways of thinking are misaligned?”

“depends,” wooyoung shrugs, goes back to note down in his writing pad with a goose feather. a reminder to stock up on butterfly wing powder and angel tears. he needs to hunt for more organic dragon scales and raven talons as well. more raw mandragora root. “it’s possible. fae and werewolves and whatnot live amongst us. so perhaps they don’t appear that old, it’s just magical creature blood. time passes differently for them, and… maybe they’ve been waiting a long time to meet you too.”

san blinks, mulling over his words, “oh. i didn’t think of that. hm, W… werewolves live that long? i would've thought they had an alpha, beta or omega system too,”

“if it helps,” wooyoung flushes, eyes darting away as he pretends to cough, “it could stand for wizard. or water nymph. or… witch, too.”

W, for witch. it’s a W for wooyoung, san. hurry and connect the dots. it has to be me, right? 

“ah! you’re a genius!” san exclaims, “then maybe they would still look young… yes, that must be it… mm, it makes sense if time passes differently for them… hopefully they will be wise- that they have lived this long as you said, and not because of evil deeds like chasing immortality,” san thinks aloud, rubbing his chin, “i hope they’re kind. heal people instead of kill people,”

wooyoung finds his lips twitching upwards into a smile. “i hope so too, san.”

hongjoong comes over to have his finger looked at today, having no idea how he injured himself to the point that a nail has bruised. it looks intentional, like one fingernail has been singled out and painted.

“please be more careful, pack leader,” wooyoung teases, tells him it’s hematoma probably caused by repetitive pressure or a large impact. “nothing’s broken, which is good. i’ll give you some herbs and berries, it should go away on its own. please eat your veggies to recover faster,”

“it’s not bothering me, so i’m good. no thanks to the green stuff,” hongjoong makes a face, and wooyoung sneaks in additional dried vegetable stems into the tonics for the pack. throws in dry pumpkin and squash bits, mixed with nectarine cubes. “by the way, sannie’s been here more often?”

wooyoung blushes. “why?”

“his clothes are here,” hongjoong raises a brow, “hm. are you two..?”

“what! n-no! nothing of that sort,” wooyoung quickly says that san had spilt magnolia coffee on himself, a new ingredient added to the apothecary. wooyoung offered to wash it for him, since those special beans required specific mugwort jelly to rid its stains. san had just left his clothes here, gone back to the mountains shirtless. as innocent as can be.

“i see…” hongjoong’s smug face shows he doesn’t buy the explanation, “but he does come here more than he should, doesn’t he?”

“how would i know,” wooyoung mutters, pearl dangling as he carefully boxes up cherry pretzels he made. “he’s part of your pack. stupid leader,”

“thanks, they look delicious. hey! please be nice to san. he’s a good pup.”

“i’m aware,” wooyoung scoffs, both of them somehow always bickering, “he’s a sweetheart, unlike you, captain, who always likes to speak in riddles and bother me all the time,” the healer rolls his eyes, smiling. “san is… well. he’s precious,”

“great! good that we both think he’s precious,” hongjoong smiles back, finally spotting the pearl on his earlobe. there’s been a lot of gossip going around as they eat by the fire these days. “ah. he goes to the gallery nowadays, enjoys this one specific painting.”

“okay… and you’re telling me because..?” wooyoung hands over the desserts and herbs, feigning irritance, “where he goes is not my business, really,”

“oh, so you’re telling me you’d rather san goes to the galleries instead of coming here and having tea with you?”

wooyoung goes cherry red, runs out of counter arguments. “g-go away, hongjoong!” he pouts, “and don’t come back unless you’re sick!”

hongjoong only sticks out his tongue, bids him goodbye. “i’ll tell san you miss him dearly!”

“you will do no such thing-!”

wooyoung is smiling as he stands at the door.

yeosang drops by soon after, and teases wooyoung whenever he goes the shade of candied apples at the mention of san. it seems san is genuinely mesmerised by a painting. he must take a look if he makes a trip downtown.

“here,” yeosang hands over a little hat. a dark grey beret, with black ribbons on each side. “san was too shy to give it, so here i am. mingi and i helped to tie the ribbons,”

courting gifts, is wooyoung’s first thought, then he shakes his head. it can’t be.

“why isn’t he giving it himself?” wooyoung mutters in amusement, “a big alpha like him, he comes here and reverts at once to a pup! a pup that yearns to be nursed.”

yeosang leans in, helps wooyoung put the beret on. “he’s shy, you can’t blame him. you do have that nurturing air about you, woo,” the ribbons sit nicely by his temples, drape around the shell of his ears. “aww, sannie does have a good eye for pretty things.”

“then he should’ve come himself,” wooyoung insists, pouty, “where is the sincerity!” yeosang only laughs, “liar. you like him- if you wanna see him again, just say so,”

“no i don’t!” wooyoung shrieks, throws a pillow at him, “my parasol does a good job, i don’t see why i need this-”

“jongho and san were playing with it that day. you know, since you always leave it outside. san thought it was rather heavy, so a hat would be more comfortable- but you did not hear that from me,” yeosang looks so pleased when wooyoung goes pink, “hojong’s fine to touch the umbrella, but san really has no business-”

“you like him,” yeosang repeats, nodding in affirmation when wooyoung smacks him, “the pack likes you too, wooyoung. you’re always welcome, to become part of us,”

“…” wooyoung takes a deep breath, “i’m not exactly part of this… usual subgender thing, as you know. sorta, but not really. we’re different kinds… besides, maybe he hasn’t shared it with you all, but i do believe he likes someone. that… isn’t me, obviously. has a royal title for them and everything,”

yeosang frowns, then understands after a moment. yes, the delicate painting that san is obsessed with.

“time will tell, then,” yeosang pats his arm, “say thank you sweetly when he drops by soon, yes?”

“i will not-!”

wooyoung thinks and thinks of that sweet young alpha who comes to his cottage, feigning illness, giving him shy looks and rosy cheeks; thinks of san and his bravery, his loyalty. thinks of how he’s always so gentle and kind, sometimes bringing flowers and extra meat from hunting, freshly cooked by the fire. the cute pouch he comes with, because he sets aside small bite-sized treats for the cat.

thinks about how san is just a toddler in a big body when he sees sweet treats- he’s just an overgrown pup, mouth all messy and stuffed full. wooyoung always has to fuss and wipe his mouth for him, not that he’s complaining. he loves seeing the pack eat well.

thinks of how san’s sincerity has touched him, in ways words cannot describe. he’s such a darling pup. so pure hearted, sweet.

his lace parasol has been set aside now. wooyoung wears his little grey beret with ribbons whenever he leaves the cottage. he’s used the fire to forge little silver clips to keep san’s fringe away while he works. san’s hair has grown longer these days, like a mullet, and wooyoung is convinced he looks dashing in any hairstyle.

wooyoung prays to the moon goddess, the sun god- asks for their divine presence- to tell him if he should try to pursue this relationship, or if it will be futile. there will be rituals he will need to perform, divinations that must be done.

wooyoung will go pearl diving, and take back the best pearl he can find, from the sea where he comes from. and he will make it into something for san.

as a courting gift.

wooyoung makes it the pendant of a long silver necklace. silver, because that's what packs from the mountains wear. threaded with a pearl he found himself. the prettiest, shiniest pearl that sought him out under crystal blue waters, beckoning him like a dazzling silver light.

wooyoung paces around his home, unsure if he should give it. the pearl on his ear tussles when he shakes his head to nobody in particular. after all, 27, A, applied to a good majority of people. and maybe, many witches lived in hiding amongst them, too. it’s not uncommon to see witches going up to three centuries old either, and still looking fresh as a daisy.

maybe he should drop more hints first. use a love spell on san. give him a special love potion. spike his tea, and then summon the spirits of love, just to know if this is truly his person. 

but that would be breaking all sorts of ethical standards. dishonouring the fundamental principles of good magic. going against the universe’s laws on this soulmate theory. while it’s true that sometimes a chosen one by your heart can overpower the chosen one by fate, due to shifting possibilities and changing circumstances, many tend to cling fast onto destiny.

but sometimes destiny can be rewritten- sometimes fate can be fought; but the ink your body had produced at 21 will remain intact, like a guide from your coming of age. but that itself is a guide- there are things along the way that may change its original trajectory. 

it can be fought, if you are brave enough.

san welcomes himself to wooyoung’s cottage, sits by the couch and waits for the owner of the house to return. he busies himself playing with geomdaengi, who always gets playful around him. ten minutes later, wooyoung comes back shirtless, just in thin pants and holding the rest of his wet clothes.

“a-ah-! what are you doing here-!” he hurriedly shrugs on his black top, never mind the dampness, uses it in a bid of modesty.

“oh s-sorry! i- um, i wanted to give you something,” san blushes, averting his eyes. wooyoung is lean and nimble, beautiful in a lithe manner. like a black cat that watches you with intention. “sorry, i didn’t mean to barge in here unannounced, you mentioned before i was free to come in if-”

“yes, i remember,” wooyoung rakes his fingers through his hair to look more presentable, sitting closer to the fireplace, “i went for a swim in the river up north. hence the… unsightly view,” wooyoung pauses for a moment, sets aside his laundry. “if you were wondering. uh, your beret is safe. in my room,”

“oh, please don’t say that, duchess,” san pouts, as wooyoung finds a towel in attempt to dry himself and puts on some fresh loose clothing, “you’re always pretty. you went for a swim! why would you be weari- anyway. i’m glad you like the hat. i thought it would be a nice addition to the all black ensembles. pretty,” wooyoung’s spacing out as san rambles on, your brolly is pretty but it’s mighty heavy, a little thin… he mumbles a spell to dry himself off, casts a spell to make him smell like flowers.

the prettiest boy, with a pearl earring.

wooyoung doesn’t know how to respond to san’s litany of pretty, pretty, so pretty- so he puts the kettle on to make them some tea. today, they shall have elderberry tea, with raw honey, lemon and ginger to taste. a little bit of elfin sugar, since san likes things sweet.

“oh yes, the gift. they were selling little trinkets in the market, and this reminded me of you.” 

san produces a little bracelet from his trousers, made with seashells and moonstone. wooyoung gasps as it glints in the light. “oh my goodness. this is…” he sighs, dreamy. gone is the playing hard to get, the push and pull that he often urges the other members of the pack to do. “pup, you…”

“it’s for you,” san gently smiles, eyes softening as he puts it onto wooyoung’s wrist, “there. all pretty.”

fit for my duchess. so pretty.

“san. i- i also…” wooyoung hurries around, but hesitates. maybe now is not the right time. he mustn't be hasty. this is a courting gift. it must be treated with dignity. “i’m sorry, i must’ve misplaced it. i had something for you too,” 

wooyoung closes the little wooden box decorated with pearl lacquer, where he keeps his precious items. latches it back. he must be patient. “my apologies, to have raised your hopes- only to dash it,”

“not at all,” san murmurs, smiling as he traces the shells against wooyoung’s wrist when he shuffles back, “it looks beautiful. like it was made for you.” geomdaengi meows, hops onto wooyoung’s jewellery box and loafs there, like she’s guarding the pearl necklace on his behalf.

“thank you so much, san.” he hurries with the tea, disappears into the kitchen and quickly casts another spell. “actually, you’re in time for some strawberry shortcake,” he warmly smiles, when san’s face lights up. luckily the big strawberries he harvested yesterday were sweet. “will you eat up, pup? enjoy some before you go?”

when san wipes off cream from wooyoung’s lip, both of them shyly sharing the cake, san wonders if wooyoung will ever realise- that he’s asked the craftsman to carve his initials inside one of the shells. 

the prettiest one.

the decor on the beret grows. 

san helps to sew or glue on a tiny item whenever he comes by, like an art project. the beret now has an assortment of little silver charms, buttons, shell flakes. wooyoung doesn’t say it, but his heart grows warm whenever he hangs up the beret before bedtime- the growing number of charms only indicates the frequency of san’s visits.

wooyoung had been complimented on his little beret when seonghwa and jongho dropped by, to deliver him some fauna and fungi they’ve found- to see if it’s edible or possibly a magic ingredient- and also some excess firewood since the winds are chilly these days.

“oh, you didn’t have to,” wooyoung rearranges the items he has hoarded around the house, “please sit. i am making lemongrass tea today. or would you care for butterfly pea instead?”

“we care for any news on you and our sannie!” seonghwa cheers, wooyoung smacking his forehead when jongho mentions that said pack member is always thinking of stuff to buy for wooyoung, whenever he goes to the weekend markets. to add to the hat, of course.

“your stupid pack, all of you come here to bully me!” wooyoung whines as he pours milk into the tea for three, “everyone drops by to tease me, except for-” he abruptly stops, covers his mouth and curses himself for speaking before he thinks.

“oh? except for who, wooyoungie?” seonghwa’s all smiles, and jongho looks even more predatory, “hey, i see you’ve made chocolate pudding. you don’t even like chocolate-!”

“oh hush, stop snooping, you rascal-” wooyoung smacks jongho’s wondering hands, “i was-! just trying a new recipe,”

“hmm, is that so,” seonghwa laughs, none of the trio convinced, “have a feeling sannie will like them, if anything,”

when seonghwa sends jongho to help shift around wooyoung’s heavy furniture, helping him declutter, he takes the opportunity to ask something else in curiosity. 

“just between you and me, wooyoung. what on earth have you been feeding our sannie! he’s absolutely obsessed and enchanted by you. distracted. sighs so much when we’re far from the sea. mumbles about you, even in his sleep… i guess he dreams of you?”

“please tell me san does not,” wooyoung stares, awkward as colour rises to his cheeks, “heavens. you’re making this up! i swear i do not put any hallucinogens into his desserts. really.”

“but you make them specially for him?” seonghwa teases, and wooyoung waves him aside when he can’t muster a rebuttal. “i-! i make desserts for everyone!”

“hmph… if you say so, duchess.”

san is here today to share some extra hams and meats the pack has. they’re on the move, so it’s silly to be lugging around so much excess baggage when it can be easily hunted. yunho is here too, bringing some cheese and bread.

“hello, wooyoung. lovely to see you again,”

“ah, yunho! a rare sight, since you’re always too healthy to pay me a visit.” wooyoung pouts, already set aside some cocoa powder, with special spiced milk. “and how is my mingi doing?”

“not as clumsy, getting better with combat, eating well,” yunho happily reports, and wooyoung grins in satisfaction. “that’s what i like to hear.”

“hey, geomdaengi. wanna try some bacon?” san looks up for wooyoung’s approval, then feeds the kitten. “hi, wooyoung.”

“hi, san.” he’s just boiled hot water, but maybe he can conjure up some steamed jujube cakes or carrot cake with walnuts. “what brings you both here today? who’s unwell?”

“i’m not sick!” san makes a face, “just… lots of extra meat, you know. thought you might like some.”

“and i’m just here to collect the herbs for our fortnightly nourishment,” yunho smiles, “don’t mind me, you lovebirds.”

“l-lovebirds-!” san sputters and swats at him, grumbles at yunho to shut up, “go back to mingi! don’t be so crass in front of-”

“-of your object of affection,” yunho continues teasing, before waving and bowing to wooyoung. he laughs when he sees the healer’s reddened cheeks, pouty as he hands over the big packet of herbs and instructions. “sorry, sorry. just teasing sannie. make sure you accept his cour-”

“yunho! please-! just-”

“would you care for some cocoa?” wooyoung says in unison, waving a spare mug, but yunho politely refuses. smiling all too widely as he nudges san ahead.

“nah, i won’t interrupt your private time- i humbly take my leave, see ya!” yunho will happily report back to the pack that yes, san’s missing silver bracelet is here in the healer’s cottage. his spare white linen top hangs by the clothesline outside, pegged next to the grey beret. they anticipate what excuse san will use this time.

once the door shuts, wooyoung stares blankly at san. “uhm. hi, san.”

“hi, wooyoung,” san shyly smiles, and follows wooyoung into the kitchen as he makes his spiced hot chocolate, adds in cinnamon. “a quick question?”

“go ahead.”

“i noticed you only wear one earring. i don’t know if you lost it, or if it has some significance..?”

“my mother has the other side,” wooyoung smiles at him wanly, stirring both mugs, “but i’m afraid everything has perished during that tsunami. the waves took everything,” there have been more natural disasters of late, so san assumes it’s the more devastating one, two decades ago.

“oh my… i am sorry to hear that,” san’s eyes widen as he reaches out to hold wooyoung’s hand, “i hope all that was lost did not meet their ends in pain,”

“indeed,” wooyoung nods, feeling bittersweet, “i hope it was quick and painless, if anything. i held onto this pearl, like a lucky charm; i was hidden in the caves that face the waters touching black sand. it was a small crevice. only small enough for a little boy,”

san looks at him with concern, with attentive, gentle eyes, hands rubbing his arm in comfort. “if it’s worth anything, i’m sure your people are proud of you, from wherever they are,” wooyoung’s glassy eyes brighten in surprise as he says this, and san tucks his long fringe behind his ears. his skin always tingles when san does that. so tender, so intimate. “you’ve done so many good things, healed so many people. they would be proud,” 

wooyoung sniffles at the sincere praise, shy when san looks at him so fondly. “thank you, san. i’m sure your people are also proud to have raised a gentleman like you,” the fireplace crackles, and wooyoung is thinking of what kind of meal he can fix for san.

he pushes the warm drink to san, and they both take a sip of the chocolatey goodness. wooyoung wipes san’s mouth for him, a bad habit.

“they would be happy to hear that,” san smiles back, “thank you, wooyoung. that was kind,” then the alpha bashfully murmurs, “d’you need me to kiss it better? you look a little sad,”

wooyoung’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, “you may, if you wish.”

they stay in comfortable silence as wooyoung wordlessly leans in to hug him, san’s lips meeting his floofy hair. he smells like orange blossom today. geomdaengi is yawning by the fireplace, occasionally eyeing them. san oozes warmth when his large arms wrap around wooyoung’s body.

“will you spend the night again? just to rest? since you claim to sleep better here. i’ll cook you something nice,”

san freezes, then melts into shyness, cheeks ruddy.

“only if you would like me to,”

“then stay,” wooyoung curls up in his hold, cheek smushed against his chest, “for your presence puts me at ease.”

“that being said, back to our previous conversation,” san smoothly takes out a box from his trousers, blue velvet. “i got something made for you,” 

san has brought him a singular earring- with a ruby for the earlobe, then a teardrop shaped pearl to match the one on the right.

“you have a beauty mark, duchess.” san softly says, “and your left eye is bigger- so i feel you should have a pearl and another gemstone for the left side.”

such that it stands for two of us- me and you- and that you’re no longer alone. you will never be.

“what,” wooyoung gasps, “you’ve lost your mind, san- you need to keep this. for… for whoever your heart desires. or your soulmate,” he gaze softens as he looks at the velvet box cradled in san’s hands, closes the lid. “you should keep it, san. i’m not… i’m just a healer in a hidden cottage. i don’t… i don’t deserve this,”

san, this is meant for your duchess- why are you giving it to me? i didn’t give you any herbs that will cause hallucinations in recent times. balloon flower root and pear tea is supposed to help your immune system, not make you fantasize.

“no! i’m not taking it back,” san sulks, shoving the velvet box into wooyoung’s hands, “it is for you. if you’re worried about the money, i’ll have you know i am excellent at chopping firewood and carrying heavy things, so it was more of me paying with my services. i have paid in full! don’t you worry about the price,” san pats his hand, gestures at him to keep it. “please. as a gift, for all the times you have taken good care of me and nursed me back to health.”

wooyoung silently looks at the blue box, opens it again. it bears such a beautiful, elegant design. something worthy of a courting gift.

“will you put it on for me, san?”

san is going crimson at the gentle tone, but he eagerly nods, dimples appearing.

“it would be my honour,” he carefully takes the earring, biding his time. pretends wooyoung’s hair is in the way, pretends that the piercing has closed; takes his time, careful not to hurt his healer. uses the back of his finger to trace the peach fuzz on wooyoung’s cheek, claiming something’s in the way. closes the back of the earring softly, satisfied when it dangles and moves with the healer’s ministrations.

“it’s beautiful, san. thank you,”

it’s so beautiful, san. just like you.

“i know, wooyoung. you’re always welcome,”

i’ll always welcome you, wooyoung. with open arms.

wooyoung’s playing with geomdaengi when san stands by his door. nervous, antsy.

“my duke, what did i say about you being healthy?” wooyoung laughs, in high spirits. he has a fruit cake in the oven. san is here with excellent timing. this morning, the weather sprites had predicted it would be an emotional day. wooyoung took it positively- today will be the day he presents san his gift, should the latter arrive. and hopefully, something good will blossom.

“you needn’t be here if you’re well!” wooyoung chirps, a spring in his step as he bounces the kitten. the pearls on each ear move with every step, like the tinkle of windchimes. “nevertheless, please sit. san, i have something-”

his smile drops when he hears the reason for san’s visit. not a feigned headache. nor a malady.

san is coming to him, asking for a love spell.

“sorry, you need a… what?”

wooyoung doesn’t know if he’s in denial, or that these words are coming from san’s lips. as if his little sooty cat can smell the tension, she hops out of his hold and leaves the humans. san tells him plainly- there’s someone he likes, and maybe he might want a love spell. to use it, responsibly. or if there’s any ritual he can do to get someone to like him back.

just like that.

wooyoung doesn’t know what to do or say. it feels like his chest is all constricted, it’s a bit difficult to breathe. frozen in his place- his place as a healer, not a lover. he’s just someone who patches san up, gives him sweet treats occasionally. like a doting, motherly friend. his heart feels like it’s stopped or dropped or-

“oh.” wooyoung shoves the pearl necklace back, deeper into his pocket, “um. yeah, i guess i can make one for you. i trust you won’t be using it for bad purposes..?”

“w-what! of course not, that’s horrible!” san frantically waves his hands, “then… maybe, i guess a truth serum would be good? to know if… the person feels the same? for starters?” san gnaws on his lower lip, “i understand if it can’t be done. just… trying my luck, you know? i don’t see such items for sale down in the village square or markets…”

wooyoung bites back the protests his heart has. his heart is now stirring, banging against his chest like an unwanted stranger. like a baby, crying for its mother. like a pup, hurt and whining for attention. he tries to ignore the whirlwind of thoughts and questions in his head. geomdaengi senses his distress, leaps into his hold to comfort. wooyoung hugs his black cat closer. oh no. so this was what the sprites meant, when they said it would be an emotional day.

“sure, san. i can do it, no problem. um, come back in a week. i’ll… i’ll make one for you,” he tries to smile, but his lips will not move.

san does not bring a charm for his beret today.

he doesn’t know why san himself looks apprehensive. as if, perhaps, he’d intended for wooyoung to stop him.

“that’s all?” san blinks, mindlessly fiddling with his silver bangles, “you’re not asking me any more questions?”

“i don’t see a reason to,” wooyoung softly says, looking down, “it seems you’ve already made up your mind, pup.”

“i-” san halts, lets the words of rebuttal die and fizzle away on his tongue. he thought wooyoung would have questions, would have a ton of things to say. nag at him. fuss. scold him cutely. anything but resigned agreement. “i’ll be back, then. have a lovely day,”

it wasn’t a good day, for either of them.

true to his word, wooyoung gets it brewed in under a week. he refuses to hand it over to san personally, so he passes it on to whoever in san’s pack that arrives first to get patched up, or to collect the pack’s tonics and healthy medicinal brews. yunho senses something’s wrong, but wooyoung sends him off with a smile. unconvincing, to the point yunho mentions he’ll come back in a week instead of two.

“run along, i’ll be fine. i hope i won’t see anyone from the pack this week. you guys shouldn’t be getting hurt so easily, you know,” the words no longer harbour the mirthful tone wooyoung usually has. it comes out scratchy, flattened. 

“but wooyo-” yunho doesn’t believe him, but nobody would, if you saw his ashen expression.

“it’s fine. take the crate of donut peaches too, will you? i harvested too much.” then he hands over the vial, “and pass this to san, please. per his request,”

yunho frowns, eyes him suspiciously. “lover’s tiff..?”

wooyoung’s lips smile, but his eyes don’t.

“worse.”

wooyoung starts running low on magical ingredients in his apothecary, but doesn’t find any energy to move about and purchase or harvest them. he gets geomdaengi to water the plants and check on the garden herbs on his behalf. he stays in bed more, loafs around. snaps his fingers to create basic meals of sustenance.

no more desserts. no more experimenting with ingredients or wondering if it’s something a certain someone would like. no more visitors. he only leaves the cottage when geomdaengi protests with her loud yowls of concern.

the strand of shells that san has clasped onto his wrist has never left. the beret is buried somewhere in his closet. he uses his lace parasol when he finally heads out.

when wooyoung reaches the special marketplace to finally procure magical items, the first thing he sees is strawberries- rare crystalline strawberries, that grow in brackish waters. people from the mountains probably don’t know about them.

wooyoung bought a basket of them anyway.

because all he can think about, is san.

a few weeks later, san uses it.

wooyoung smells it in the mulled wine san has brought him. it’s a warm, hearty drink of a peace offering- the aroma of cinnamon, star anise, cloves and nutmeg, in tandem to the orange slices and brandy and honey. but beneath all of that, wooyoung can smell the faint traces of mermaid tears. damask rose petals. sweet marjoram. the first dew of morning glory.

the pack has had their health and metabolism restored with wooyoung’s potent brews. they’ve been hunting more, and trying to secure various other rockier territories for tactical combat. hence, they haven’t been visiting wooyoung. they might have a bonfire soon, to celebrate everyone nourished back to the pink of health.

“uhm. hongjoong hyung says it’s okay to invite you,” san softly tells him, and wooyoung is aware. seonghwa had told him first, mentioned something about courting gifts- but wooyoung had just prescribed some cloudberries and sent him off, with homemade apple pie. gave him the crystalline strawberries to share with the pack, on second thought. it was a good sign, the pack growing stronger with lesser injuries and ailments.

wooyoung smiles, doesn’t give san a definite answer. based on what he’s smelling, san hasn’t used the truth serum yet- it still has the mild smell of balsam. if the bottle had been opened, the resin fragrance would’ve evaporated by now. 

it makes sense, since the pack’s been mostly hunting and gathering. on the prowl. the crusted, freshly healed wounds on san’s arm are a good testament to that- shoddy splotches of iodine that were likely purchased from a random pharmacy. wooyoung feels a little relieved. at least they haven’t found a new healer, then.

there comes a fleeting thought that wooyoung quashes at once- maybe san is interested in him, but no way. maybe san is just testing the serum to see if he made something bogus. yes, that would make more sense. wooyoung had hesitated, after all.

and wooyoung yearns.

he knew what it contained, and drank the mulled wine anyway. it was delicious, warm and comforting. san had stared at him, cautious, a little fearful. waiting for seconds to tick by, for the serum to take effect.

“do… do you mind if i ask you some questions?” san is nervous. wooyoung can smell it. see it in his tensed stance. alcohol has somehow always heightened his senses a little. the brandy in there is strong. san is really nervous.

“sure, be my guest.” his hands find purchase on san’s jittery knees, legs bouncing in nervousness. geomdaengi curls herself in san’s lap, as if to mimic her owner’s warm, drowsy presence. “don’t be afraid, pup. i will answer honestly.”

it’s a test, isn’t it? san is testing me. to know if the truth serum works. then i shall answer. i have to, don’t i?

“wooyoung,” san swallows, peers into his eyes, “do you, by any chance, like someone?”

the flicker in san’s eyes die as he says it, almond eyes wide when wooyoung’s breath hitches. wooyoung does not break eye contact. his glistening asymmetrical orbs stare into san’s soul. they twinkle, like diamonds.

“yes, i do.”

regardless of the circumstances, wooyoung would’ve been truthful. he has always been fond of a certain someone, anyway. that is the truth.

“am i… acquainted with the person that has captured your heart?”

wooyoung closes his eyes. it’s just a test. and of course he’s an excellent potion maker. the words would’ve come out either way.

so this is how he plans to woo that person? are these the questions he intends on asking? silly pup. how is he going to court them like that? with these sorts of questions?

“yes. you are.”

“then, is that person your… soulmate?”

“i… i don’t know,” wooyoung whispers, “but i hope so. we’ve… never really talked much about our soulmarks. i mean, there was one time, kinda, but…”

oh dear. this must be about his duchess. oh goodness. what have i done? he wants to ambush a royal? oh, this is not good-

“will you allow me to see-”

“i’m sorry,” wooyoung hides his hands behind his back, pearls clinking as san’s hands recoil too. the ruby and pearl feels so heavy on his left ear, they flutter when he shakes his head adamantly. “no, i can’t show them to you.”

heavens, am i wearing the earring meant for his duchess? is he giving me a prototype, just to see if it looks nice? then he must never find out. if he is truly my person- no, it cannot be. san must be fearless and pursue that duchess of his. this is a test trial, that has gone all wrong. i couldn’t possibly- there must be someone out there, another witch, a beautiful water nymph that’s worthy-

“my apologies,” san bows his head, bites his tongue, “i fear i might’ve gotten carried away. sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt or offend you,”

“i know. it’s alright, san. i’m not offended,” he watches as san fidgets, eyeing the door. unsure if he should take his leave. wooyoung closes his eyes, tries to inhale deeply. the serum would’ve worn off by now, with these few extra seconds of both of them lingering. “sorry, still. i’ve done something wrong.”

“it’s okay, san-ah,” wooyoung finally exhales, like a large sigh. the mulled wine has made him a bit sleepy. “why are you looking so hurt? do i have to kiss it better?”

san blinks at him, curls in on himself. “uhm. it’s okay, i don’t think i deser-”

wooyoung kisses his temple anyway, pats his head.

“look at me, please? i have something for you.”

finally, he takes the necklace out of its hiding place. he gives san the precious pearl, passes it off as something pretty- that maybe san could hold onto it and give it to someone he loves. 

maybe it’s too late; if this is how it will end, so be it. the pearl will protect the wearer, san. i hope it protects you, or the person you love.

“it makes a really pretty courting gift. you don’t have to come from the sea to wear pearls, you know.”

“oh, it’s beautiful,” san whispers as he looks at the necklace, “you made this? it looks exquisite,”

“i did,” wooyoung bites his tongue, “please have it. if you have someone in mind, then… maybe you can keep it for them first?”

wooyoung doesn’t know how to feel when san touches the pendant so gently, a soft smile on his face when he holds it out to wooyoung. “will you help..?”

now, wooyoung’s sure there’s no way san can’t handle it, since the latter is good with his hands- but who is he to say no, when san is looking at him all fond and sweet?

“of course.” as a healer, wooyoung’s naturally good with his hands too- but he takes his time, lets his fingers ghost past san’s clavicles, his shoulders, his nape; pretends to adjust the pendant, hands roaming over heated skin. arranging the pearl, even when gravity is already doing its job.

“it’s beautiful, wooyoung. thank you,”

it’s so beautiful, wooyoung. just like you.

“i know, san. you’re always welcome,”

i’ll always welcome you, san. with open arms.

san is distraught. 

he feels awful for even having done such a horrible thing, using the serum on wooyoung. his sweet little healer, that has always been kind. always calls him pup so tenderly to soothe him.

obviously he didn't ask wooyoung invasive things- but he feels disgusted enough with himself for even giving in to a moment of weakness. but he recognises the smell now, of the serum.

san tries to make up for his folly, by buying new sweet treats from the village to share with wooyoung. it also gives him an excuse to drop by, anyway. brings extra charms for the beret. almost half of it is littered with tiny trinkets now.

his pretty little duchess, with the ruby and pearl earring.

the necklace doesn’t leave san.

the pearl sits daintily on his chest, and wooyoung flushes at the contrast of milky iridescence against caramel, honeyed skin. today, san is bemoaning nettle rash.

wooyoung is quick to apply a cooling mint paste, mixed with windroot and wintermelon. the rash is mild, so it soothes almost immediately. geomdaengi pushes a pail of warm water, to cleanse san’s skin thoroughly. that earns her lots of belly rubs and some smoked tuna.

“your… the person who’s caught your eye, alpha. haven’t gotten the chance to give it to your omega yet?”

“i have no idea if he’s an omega,” it’s the first hint san has dropped- he’s usually mindful of using gender neutral terminology. but now, wooyoung knows it’s a male he’s after. he frowns. then who is this duchess that san always mistakes him for?

his fingers subconsciously touch the ruby by his ear. 

of course, a duchess is probably in immaculate silks and velvets; her hands must be laden with precious jewels. sometimes, if the royal bloodline is on the verge of collapse, a male can also substitute to inherit the royal title. so that’s what it is- there shouldn’t be too many male duchesses around. wooyoung might look into this if he one day delves into boredom.

in this case, his hands must be lined in gemstones and fine silks and brocades- rich and heavy and lustrous. soft, supple skin; unlike wooyoung’s veiny, thick fingers, calloused from making healing tonics and practicing casting spells and divinations. 

maybe their fingers are also manicured, but with shiny, opalescent tints, not black like the monochrome ensemble wooyoung sticks to. deep jewel tones- ruby, emerald, sapphire, amethyst; not a heavy, macabre, dreary black.

“san. if i have made a grave mistake, and have done something wrong. something bad. would you forgive me?”

“yes.” the answer comes without any hesitation. “yes, i would.”

“but you don’t know the offence. or the thought process-”

“you would’ve had your reasons,” san firmly responds, dimples sincere, “you think a lot. observe. you’d have a reason, i’m sure,”

but what if i’ve administered you a truth serum, san? and all this is already… things you wouldn’t have said normally?

wooyoung’s gut feeling is usually never wrong.

he decides, isn’t it technically an eye for an eye? san and i, we’re both people that are loyal and honest. it wouldn’t hurt, would it? but it still feels deceitful. awful. was this how san felt? when he looked at me all pleading and puppy eyed?

but it has been done, placed into chocolate truffles that he knows san won’t be able to resist. his tummy flips and churns as san tells him how yummy the sweet treats are. the pine needle tea is refreshing, too.

“san, when you think of me, what word comes to mind?”

san’s eyes widen with alarm. the melted chocolate on his tongue turns bitter. the smell of balsam.

so wooyoung knows, because the truth comes out of his mouth anyway, when he’s trying so hard to say something else.

oh no. not like this-

when he saw wooyoung’s pained expression prior, when he asked those preliminary cryptic questions- san realises the healer already knew.

the smell. it’s the truth serum.

nevertheless, it still is a torture, even if it is the truth. they both know it, just skirting around it like it’s taboo. like a selfish waltz, a truth untold.

“just… the first word will do, san.” then wooyoung softens, “any word is-”

“wife,” san blurts, with the lack of any censor. then he covers his mouth at once, because goodness, this serum is goddamn effective. holy crap. was this how wooyoung felt? san wanted to lie and say warm. or sweet. cute. maybe tender. not that they were untruths- and yet-

“wife..?” wooyoung goes bright pink at once, covering his mouth, “what do you mean-”

“s-sorry!” san squeaks out, because he truly is sorry, “god i am so sor- uh, w, for wife. for wooyoung,” he pushes up the thick band of silver, points at his wrist. san is mortified. he’s just saying everything that comes to mind now, acting on instinct. this is terrible- wooyoung’s going to feel disappointed and upset and-

“then… who is the duchess you always speak of, san-ah? does this duchess bear physical resemblance to me? that’s why-”

“no, no!” san’s mouth starts again, before he can even try to resist the urge to attempt to bite his tongue and shut up, “you’re my duchess!”

“what..?” wooyoung looks at him, incredulous, cheeks still flushed from this whole barrage of rapid confessions. the pearls on his wrists clatter and clink as he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “sorry, i don’t understand-”

“i- you reminded me of a beautiful painting- i don’t know who she was, but it was a girl with a pearl earring,” san’s hands are wildly gesturing, as if to convey his inner turmoil as the words tumble out, “i am just an alpha from a pack that originates from the mountains- if i were a royal, i would be able to choose my bride, my wife; soulmates be damned, if i had money or power, i would choose you,” san’s voice is close to a whisper as he nears the end of his truth, “i don’t know if you believe in fate, wooyoung… but if we ever get reincarnated, i hope i will become a duke or a prince- so that i will find you once more, and take you as my duchess, as my princess.” he shakes his head, looks at his own lap, “i’m sorry. but you mustn’t run, if we meet again, in another life-”

“oh, san…” wooyoung catches san’s tears before the alpha even registers the swell of emotions within him. san gives him a bittersweet smile, “i wouldn’t dare imagine myself a king. maybe a baron, at least? and hopefully, you-” san swallows, tries to keep his words within. the serum seems to be loosening its hold over him. “-you’ll be my baroness, wooyoung,” another pause. “do you think my wrist would write B then? like a normal alphabet? heh, that would be more than enough. a happy dream,”

wooyoung no longer has the heart to ask anything else. he just hushes san, presses their foreheads and closes his eyes, allows for san to relax and match his breathing. caresses san’s beautiful face with his hands, thumbing at his cheekbones. erasing all traces of tear stains. casts a little spell, to calm him. feels san’s heart flutter and glow beneath his palm.

this sweet grand duke of his. 

“my sweetheart,” wooyoung softly says as their noses touch, “feeling better?”

“mmh,” san nods, slowly regaining his breath in even measure. “sorry. everything just-”

“i apologise. i didn’t realise you…” he stares at san, at his melted gaze, the tiny quirk of the corners of his lips. he must be going delirious. “god, san. i didn’t know, i-”

wooyoung hastily gets up, heads for the apothecary. the bottom left cabinet drawer. he’s acting on impulse, he knows- but can you really blame him, when san is looking at him like that, all honeyed and pouty, talking about marriage and soulmates.

wooyoung is torn between choices as he cradles a purple lotus in his hands. he has no idea if the wrist soulmarks are confirmation. but with all that san has said, they both have good feelings for each other, isn’t it?

“um, san-” he reveals the little flower to the alpha, unsure if he should even be doing this. there’s a reason why he only keeps one purple lotus, for emergency use. he shouldn’t even be showing san such a superfluous thing to begin with. 

“ah! more snacks!”

wooyoung is offering him a purple lotus- as good as a temporary love spell, for how it’s a natural aphrodisiac. it’s just difficult to harvest since it requires skill and strength in plucking their pure form, originating from muddied waters.

“wait, wait- san, no, stop- you can’t eat them-!”

“mm, why?” san has seen the effect on the members in his pack. that they all look like they’re in a daze. he knows it’s a flower that makes people extra calm and affectionate- it even makes people like hongjoong and yeosang go around kissing people on their own accord. mingi and seonghwa just get extra giggly and clingy and pouty, and yunho gets sleepy and craves attention and cuddles.

yet, san and jongho have zero effect when it comes to these lotuses. apparently, it’s a hereditary thing- and descendants of the choi, jeon and yang lineages are unfazed by the hazy effect these love-lotuses give. another pack had mentioned before, that some people even eat these lotuses before they mate. 

maybe… maybe wooyoung would like to- hm, here goes nothing, san thinks as he chomps on the petals. maybe wooyoung wants to see me affectionate? wants me drowsy in case i start getting emotional again?

the petals are fragrant and sweet, they melt on your tongue like candy. just to see if that’s the result wooyoung desired, san kisses him on the cheek, only to be met with a distraught cry.

“san! no, spit them out-!” wooyoung is teary as he grabs at san’s face, half-eaten lotus thrown onto the ground. “oh, my beloved san, i am so sorry- as a descendant of my kind, it is my responsibility to do good, and never to use it for selfish reasons or for personal gain; i’ve committed a terrible mistake, i shouldn’t have let you-”

san felt like it would work, so he gently caresses wooyoung’s face, tucks his hair behind his ears. the little star clips in san’s hair sway as he shakes his head. the little silver clips that wooyoung made him, dusted with starfish powder. san’s hair is growing longer, like his own lush black strands. “my love, calm down.”

“no, san, you don’t get it- these flowers, they-”

he’s panicking. i must kiss it better.

san kisses him softly, nips at the beauty mark on wooyoung’s lower lip. “i’m immune, my darling.”

“what?” wooyoung’s frowning, thinking of something to ask. his heart is racing. san just kissed him. allegedly, these love-lotuses will cloud one’s memories, make one more besotted and touchy. crave for physical intimacy, forget one’s worries. “stop, san- what are you allergic to?”

“sesame.”

“what is your pack ring made of?”

“mm, silver,”

“for geomdaengi, what does she like to eat?”

“fish, of course. i think she likes the dried squid i bring sometimes. or the beef jerky i gave her once. she liked bacon,” san is looking at him so tenderly, thumbing at the apples of his cheeks. “see, i’m really immune to these purple petals, i swear. me and jongho, we don’t get affected,”

“san, so… when you look at me,” wooyoung gulps, “do you really-”

“i told you, W for wife,” san softly laughs, “so now you know, i guess. but there’s really no way you’re past a hundred years-”

“i’m a witch!” wooyoung blurts, san’s face still lovingly in his hands, “i’m sorry, for making you consume truth serum. i know it was in my wine. but anyways… the W on your wrist- it should mean witch,”

“sorry, what..?” san looks flabbergasted, “b-but! but where’s your pointy witch hat!”

wooyoung only laughs, gaze sweet as he blushes, “some witches wear… berets with ribbons instead,”

“oh…” san watches as wooyoung’s asymmetrical eyes go all glassy, him holding his wrists towards san. offering all of his pearls. san’s shell bracelet, too. it has become an indispensable part of the stack. “take them off, your highness,”

“what’s with-”

“my grand duke, san,” wooyoung shyly smiles, gives him an exaggerated curtsy, “you may take them off, if you please.”

he doesn’t know if they’re still playing pretend as royals, but wooyoung’s heart flutters and melts into nothingness when san takes his hands, kisses them with the grace of a crown prince. “since you have so kindly granted me such a special gift,”

it somehow feels so intimate, taking off wooyoung’s pearls- like it’s an extension of him, something that never leaves his wrists. his clothes will still come off, when he goes for a swim, takes a bath- but these pearls, they’re special and they stay on, no matter what. if san loses his silver bangles or his pack ring, he can simply have it forged again. his pack is still with him. but for wooyoung, these pearls are all he has left of his people. it feels sacred to be touching them, just like that.

the shell with san’s initials- it has been flipped over for a long time. the initials will glint in the light, like a twinkle amidst moonstone and pearls.

“it’s okay, san,” wooyoung smiles at him kindly, guides his hands to the clasps of each string of pearls, “go ahead. they won’t break, if that’s your concern,”

“but they’re so beautiful and delicate,” san softly says, admiring the milky white sheen of each orb, “i’m afraid i-”

“don’t be,” wooyoung flicks his forehead playfully, “a duke would never hurt his duchess, especially if he is this gentle and tender hearted,”

san flushes, meek at the praise. now it makes more sense, how wooyoung seems to glow randomly, how the things in his house rearrange themselves. how he is so good with concoctions and has so many bizarre items in his apothecary. how things sometimes move in slow motion, before a mug breaks or a bowl falls over. how he can have wonderful baked confections made in a snap. although, san eventually will realise that it’s a replication spell- wooyoung needs to have made the item at least once, from scratch, before the magic can replicate it in a flash.

he carefully undoes the bracelets, puts them onto the table gently. one of the chains of pearls unravels itself to actually be a pearl necklace- wooyoung’s mother’s favourite piece, that he wears on his hands to remember her.

27, A.

san can see the tanlines these pearls have created, the skin of the witch’s wrists creamier and paler in contrast to the rest of his body. he tenderly traces the alphabet and number on wooyoung’s wrists. 

“this… this has to be me, right?” his eyes widen, cheeks rosy as he takes off the silver on his hands, outstretched them. “i mean…”

“there is a way,” wooyoung softly murmurs, four wrists out in the open and exposed to each other, in the middle of the living room. geomdaengi is resting by his bookshelves, and wooyoung looks terribly shy as he retrieves a dusty book, careful not to wake her. 

“it is a traditional, old-fashioned way- i have no idea if it still works, since not many people practice it anymore. but it is said, if you drink a special sort of brew, and place your soulmarks together… if you are meant to be, another soulmark will appear,” he flips through the ancient tome, points at it. “fated mates,” san reads, “i’ve heard about it as legendary stories of famous people, but i’ve never really seen…”

“the ingredients are not the easiest to get,” wooyoung laughs, “and not everyone you meet has basilisk blood or tongue of sea serpent at hand, i suppose. not unless you meet a witch! although, i would understand why a spell was used as confirmation… imagine how common it must be, to both say 27, just a different subgender. that could be about anyone, really,”

“can you… will you be able to brew it?” san blinks, tracing the ingredient list of more foreign items, glistening stardew, three fae sneezes, powdered bat wings, amaranth oil, sage and thyme, preserved tulip bulb, purple crab claw fragments, fuzz of a snow peach, six pomegranate seeds, rosemary, distilled honeysuckle nectar. “whoa, these sound extensive-”

“i can,” wooyoung beams, “i am a wonderful witch, i must say.” wooyoung puts his pearl jewellery into san’s hands and smiles. “could you help me to place them by my dresser, please? just give me a moment-”

“in your… bedroom?” san flushes, ears going red, “i- ah, you’re asking me to wait in your bedroom?”

“it’s not your first time there, san-ah,” the witch scrunches his nose, “why does it have you all hot and bothered?”

“no, the last few times, i always just fell asleep… but now, i’m going to be sitting on my soulmate’s bed..? i dunno, it seems a bit…” san pouts, tilting his head, “now it seems more like an infringement of privacy?”

“what could you possibly mean, pup!” wooyoung ruffles san’s hair, “ah. it feels more important now, does it? now that we might be soulmates? you’re starting to see things in a deeper way?”

“mm, yeah,” san nods, “and also… i just like watching you work,” he mindlessly touches his lips, “i like looking at you.”

“that, i have noticed,” wooyoung hides a laugh as he takes out a mortar and pestle, waits for san to put aside his precious pearls and shells. “i’ll start when you come back, so run along, pup.”

san helps with picking the ingredients from each cabinet drawer, fascinated at how surreal each item is. wooyoung truly has everything organised and stocked.

a part of san is excited about this. he wants to have permanent confirmation inked across his skin- yes, this beautiful creature is indeed my soulmate. and yet, what happens if, for some reason, nothing happens? will everything crumble into nothingness, be taken away like the great waves?

“san-ah? penny for your thoughts?”

“regardless of whatever happens…” san tentatively says, “i want you to know that i have feelings for you, wooyoung. and those feelings will never change, even if… even if we’re not soulmates,” he licks his lips, “i’ll still love and care for you. sure, i would be disappointed, but i’m still very much keen to pursue a relationship with you…”

“oh, san-ah…” wooyoung melts at his sincerity, kisses him to soothe that worried expression, “i have feelings for you, too. don’t worry. this potion, whatever happens- i will still be with you, love on you, dote on you. fear not, sannie. the feeling is mutual,”

“mmh, okay. i love you too, wife,” san jokes, cheeks pink, and wooyoung smacks him while laughing. “thanks for always being so sweet to me, wooyoung. i’m really just a random alpha from the mountains…”

“and i am a random witch from the sea,” san smiles as wooyoung says this, deft fingers working up a ghastly green liquid that fizzles, looking like wheatgrass puree with flecks of gold shimmer. wooyoung splits the concoction into equal measure, clinks glasses with san. 

“cheers, alpha.”

apparently it’ll take some time, so wooyoung ushers them both to sleep. conjures up a few weighted blankets and tucks san in. both of them are curious about the aftereffects of the soulmate potion, but are also exhausted from a day of revelations.

“i don’t know if healers or witches nest like us,” san had softly admits, as they’re curled up and cuddling under the covers, “but you know… the beret… when you hold it upside down, doesn’t it look a bit like a bird’s nest? and then when i add little touches to it, it’s kind of like decorating your nest?” san blushes as he explains the thought process, and wooyoung kisses him sweetly, for the lack of better words.

“god, you’re so sweet, san. so thoughtful,” he mumbles, hugging him close, “i always… i’ve wondered if you brought me courting gifts, in some instances, but i… i accepted because they were from you. i didn’t actually realise you were formally courting me. you’re just… gosh, you’re everything, san. you’re perfect,”

“you’re perfect too,” san says back, dimples appearing, “i hope you’re my soulmate.”

wooyoung just sighs, kisses his lips, their hands intertwined beneath. soulmarks kissing, as well. “i hope so too, san.”

“san-ah! san-ah, wake up!”

“mmh, what-”

“take off your pants, hurry-” san rolls up is pants as told, and wooyoung casts a washing up spell, fit for lazy days. san suddenly feels refreshed, more awake. “morning,”

“yes, good morning,” wooyoung’s peering at his knees, inspecting. “oh god,”

“why,” san blinks back, “what’s wrong..?”

“san. stand up, pup- come here,” he stares at him and wooyoung, now in matching petticoat shorts, in the reflection. there’s a cluster of ink on wooyoung’s left knee, on san’s right knee.

amicus a, followed by d aras.

“it links together,” san blinks, walking closer to the mirror and joining the words together, “oh my goodness. what does this-”

“amicus ad aras,” wooyoung softly says, taking his hands, “it’s the soulmarks my parents had. but theirs was on their palms- the words would touch each other when they held hands.”

“oh, heavens,” san breathes, “so we are really-”

“yes, san. we’re soulmates,” san hugs him so tightly, picks him up and twirls him, “i knew it, i totally knew it-”

“it means a friend as far as to the altar.”

wooyoung’s pearl earrings dangle and sway when san kisses him silly, the ruby catching all the rays of the morning sunlight.

a life-long partner, until the very end.

wooyoung says he’s thought about it. 

that he has enough space, he can move his unnecessary furniture into the underground bunker. he doesn’t mind letting the pack move into this spacious cottage. it’s safeguarded by the sea, in addition a magical barrier he already has put up. they won’t be subjected to rogue attacks anymore.

the pack will still have to buy extra beds and necessities, as magic can only conjure so much. but wooyoung’s got the cooking down pat, magic or not. the last time san had slept over, he conjured some cloud blankets and extra pillows, but those only lasted halfway through the night. the weighted blankets lasted a bit longer, but still vanished just before the soulmark fiasco.

if he and san are destined soulmates, then by extension, san’s pack is his family too- not that he doesn’t already consider them his own kith and kin.

“you can tell them at the bonfire yourself,” san breathes into his hair, holding him tight, “but thank you for telling me first. i think it’s a wonderful idea,”

sometimes, you get lucky and have the love of your life as your soulmate.

sometimes, you get equally lucky, to be able to choose your family.

found family, to the very end.

after much anticipation and being inseparable for days, san had returned to the pack bearing his new soulmark proudly, and relayed the message that wooyoung has some good news to share during the bonfire.

that weekend, san takes him down to the gallery. wooyoung spots the painting at once, the centrepiece.

the girl with a pearl earring. 

wooyoung subconsciously touches the pearls that dangle against his ears. 

“oh, my love…” he sighs, “i could never compare-”

“indeed,” san nods, “my wife is far more beautiful.”

“san-!” silver along wooyoung’s wrist clinks against san’s chest. “don’t be disrespectful,”

“so… do i get to keep the necklace, my duchess?” san touches the pearl against his chest. it always glimmers, sometimes luminescent, even in the dark. now it is layered with another pearl necklace- like it’s wooyoung’s mother’s blessings; wooyoung’s A is displayed freely now, the pearls now guarded by san, dainty against his neck. san no longer wears his thick silver bracelets to cover his soulmarks- they are now worn as arm cuffs instead. san’s W is also proudly displayed for all to see.

they stand there, admiring the painting, san’s arm around his waist, wooyoung leaning his head against san. knees touching, soulmarks connected. the shape of a ruby and pearl, imprinted into san’s shoulder.

“of course, my duke,” wooyoung beams up at him, smiling so hard his cheeks ache, without a care in the world, “you can be my boy with a pearl necklace.”