Chapter Text
“Has anyone seen Hyunjin?” Was one of the first things he heard when sleep started to drift away, leaving him warm and hazy.
There was no response that he heard, and he had yet to open his eyes, but whoever was puttering around in the kitchen must have pointed him out because Jisung was responding anyway. “You know Chan said we shouldn’t let him sleep up there anymore.”
Hyunjin would roll his eyes but thankfully Minho’s voice scoffs. “Are you going to be the one to enforce that?” Minho hadn’t been in the kitchen when Hyunjin had climbed up above the cupboards to curl up for an afternoon nap, but by the smell of it the older witch had been in the kitchen for quite some time, so Hyunjin was almost surprised he hadn’t woken up. Minho probably had seen the sleeping hybrid and been careful to ensure he wasn’t disturbed.
Minho always had a soft spot for him.
Jisung responds after a pause, giving a thoughtful “no,” that has Hyunjin smiling to himself.
Even though he’s awake now, he doesn’t quite want to get up yet, so instead he stretches out, curling his tail up around himself and nuzzling his cheek into the cushion that Minho and Felix stuffed up here for him.
Minho must be making a potion because the air was ripe with magic, thick and heavy since it was so close to the full moon.
There was a shuffling that had his ears flicking, but he doesn’t mind the noise, having long since gotten used to the chaos of living with all his witches.
“Hi,” Jisung greets him when he peeks an eye open. The witch was standing on the counter with his butt out so his head didn’t bump into the ceiling, and he was gripping the ledge above the cupboards close to Hyunjin’s little nest of cushions and stolen clothes. Jisung looked sweet, wide eyes and a cute smile that made Hyunjin’s chest fill happily and rumble with a quiet, tired purr. “Do you want anything?” He asked while lifting one hand to lay into Hyunjin’s dark hair with a light scratch.
Did he?
With the sleepiness still clinging to his mind, and now the expert fingers scratching behind his ear just right, he was pretty sure the only thing he wanted was to fall back asleep. Ideally with one of the witches— but, they refused to snuggle with Hyunjin up here and Hyunjin felt too boneless to move so… sacrifices would have to be made.
“‘m okay,” is what he mumbles out after yawning, voice hoarse from sleep.
“Not even a kiss?” Jisung asks, and Hyunjin pouts a little bit because of course he would take a kiss. Instead of responding though, he purses his lips and waits for the witch to lean in, which he does almost immediately with a smile.
Jisung pulls back after giving him a quick peck, thumb still smoothing over his soft ear that has Hyunjin purring even louder.
“Pretty kitty going back to sleep?” His voice is melodic and happy, and it hits Hyunjin’s ears pleasantly. His eyes had already slipped shut again by the time he gave a soft nod, rolling his lips and shifting around slightly to get comfortable.
Jisung laughs, giving a final pet and climbing down from the counter, but Hyunjin thinks he fell asleep before the witch’s foot even touched the ground.
The next time he woke up, he was pulled out of his dream by a gentle tugging on his tail that was hanging over the edge of the cupboard. He hums, turning lazily to see who was trying to get his attention and sees Chan standing on the tile below.
“Hyunnie,” he starts when he sees that Hyunjin was awake, and it makes the cat frown, the tone sounding very much like Chan was about to scold him. “I thought I told you that you shouldn’t sleep up there anymore.” And there it was.
“Channie,” he whines, rolling back over and flicking his tail out of the witch's gentle hands. “I like it up here.”
The witch sighs. “But you roll around in your sleep, what if you roll right off the edge?” Chan always worried about things and sometimes Hyunjin wasn’t sure if it was because he was the oldest witch, and he felt some degree of responsibility towards everyone, or if it was just simply who he was. Regardless though, Hyunjin grumbled a little bit.
“Can’t you just make a charm so I can’t fall?”
“Then we wouldn’t be able to open the cupboards.”
“Is that so bad?”
Chan sighs again and reaches to take a hold of Hyunjin’s dark tail once more. “Come here darling.” He sounds a little defeated, so Hyunjin knows that they’re dropping the topic for now. Regardless, he’s been up here for most of the afternoon, so he crawls his way down until he’s dropping onto his butt on the counter in front of where Chan stands.
The witch smiles warmly at him, looking gentle and sweet and Hyunjin leans forward so he can press right into his space. Arms wrap around his shoulders and rub over his back, and little purrs vibrate between them.
Despite sleeping all day, he’s still exhausted. The days leading up to the full moon left him lethargic with so much of his witch’s magic flowing through him.
“Minho made you some goodies,” is murmured into his hair and it had him humming in curiosity.
Chan and Minho tended to be a little more attuned with Hyunjin during the lead up to the full moon and the subsequent full moon rituals, and maybe that was because they were the oldest witches in the coven or maybe it was because Hyunjin had been with them the longest. It left Chan hovering around him and fretting over him, and Minho frankly spoiling him to hell and back. Either way, their love for him shone brightly no matter how drowsy the cat was.
“Yeah, looks like that one that makes your fur all shiny-”
“That tastes like bananas?”
“Yeah. And there’s a few other ones here too.”
There’s the sound of Chan clinking together a few bottles on the counter behind his back before he speaks again. “There’s a few to help with the full moon symptoms.”
Which had him perking his ears up. The full moon drained him. The witches were at their most powerful then, and they funnelled their magic through their familiar— through Hyunjin. And while his body was made for this, made to balance their magic in a healthy way, it still left him drowsy and exhausted from having so many witches.
Minho spent years concocting a potion that would offset some of the effects, probably not too long after they added the fifth witch to the coven and Hyunjin got a little more bogged down by all the extra magic. Anything to help until they could perform the ritual. It made a smile stretch across the cat’s face.
Chan’s hands resumed petting up and down his back and he let his eyes fall shut once more, only opening them when the oldest witch said, “looks like he has some for the ritual too.”
It made him shiver. Minho was caring and doting, but he could also be quite… devious.
He didn’t respond, the words still being a little bit too hard to process when he was so heavy with magic, but he knew Chan could feel how he felt about it, and knew that the witch was right when he chuckled quietly.
They fell into a comfortable silence, Hyunjin nearly falling back asleep in Chan’s arms but then groaning quietly when he pulled the cat’s thighs around his hips to lift him up and off the counter. “We should start getting you prepared.”
It has Hyunjin perking up slightly, tail swaying as Chan carries him out of the kitchen.
Getting Hyunjin prepared started well before the actual full moon, the witches pampering and worshiping their familiar but also adorning him with charms and potions to make the ritual easier.
But there was one particular thing that Chan always made sure he was the one to do.
He held Hyunjin securely while he carried him, and Hyunjin repetitively scrunched and released the back of the witches shirt, purring quietly. Chan kneeled onto a mattress and then lowered Hyunjin back into a mess of cushions and pillows that smell a lot like Seungmin and Felix. The soft fabrics rubbed against his sensitive skin pleasantly.
Immediately he was missing the heat of Chan’s body when the witch pulled away to start gathering his supplies, but he knew it wouldn’t be long. The coziness combined with heavy magic weighing his limbs down was making it hard to pull himself away from the grip of sleep, so he did his best to keep his eyes at least cracked open.
His ears folded back into his hair as he yawned, watching Chan collect items from the shelf on the other side of the room and the trunk they keep in the corner specifically for their rituals. When the witch kneels back onto the bed with a gentle smile, his dark tail flicks back and forth, happy and lazy.
“You look exhausted, kitten,” Chan notes, setting a small vial and satin pouch down and Hyunjin just hums. Exhausted sometimes didn’t feel like the right word. It didn’t feel like he was worn out, or suffering from exertion or anything like that— but he felt sluggish and slow, heavy and filled with cotton. But the witches would never know what it felt like to be a familiar, bound to so many magical beings— to have so much residual magic absorbed into their body and waiting to expel it.
But that was okay with Hyunjin. He quite liked being a cat hybrid, and he quite liked being their familiar. And even though the witches didn’t get it, they listened to Hyunjin— they took his word, they valued him— thought he was special and important. They could never understand properly, but they tried.
Chan takes a few minutes to run his hands through Hyunjin’s hair, smoothing it back, scratching at his scalp and ears.
The full moon took a lot out of him, but honestly, Hyunjin loved every part of it.
Especially the attention. “Kiss?” Chan asked and Hyunjin shifted happily, nodding and then purring louder when Chan swooped down to join their lips together. It wasn’t long or overly passionate, just quick and sweet— probably all Hyunjin had energy for right now.
When Chan pulled back, Hyunjin smiled dopily up at him, his lips tingling from the witch’s overflow.
“Ready?”
“Mhm.”
His loose bottoms were pulled down his hips, and Hyunjin shivered a little bit as the cool air hit his exposed skin. Chan took extra care to free his tail properly, making sure that it wasn’t tangled in his clothing. The fur on his tail was starting to fluff up just a little bit from the cold when Chan asked if he wanted to keep his top on.
“Mm. ‘chilly.”
Right away, Chan’s eyes were slanting with concern, and the witch was running his hands up and down Hyunjin’s bare thighs, palms heating with magic. “That better, kitten?”
And maybe it was the magic in the air, or the approaching full moon, but the sweet gesture had his eyes stinging and his fingers digging into the cushions. He really loved these witches.
Not trusting his voice, Hyunjin just nodded again. Chan looked like he knew that Hyunjin was having a little moment, but was thankfully not dwelling on it. They were all used to their emotional kitten anyway.
Chan helped rearrange him after that, gentle hands guiding Hyunjin to lay on his stomach so that he could still bury his face comfortably into pillows but also have his hips angled upwards. Under normal circumstances, having his ass in the air, facing one of his witches would have Hyunjin swaying his tail, glancing back over his shoulder and trying to entice them into fucking him, but right now he just lulled into a comfortable state and let Chan get to work at his own pace. Hands pet through his tail, combing his dark fur with their fingers and then eventually laying it just to the side so that his hole was more accessible.
The sound of the cork popping out of the little glass vial had his ears twitching, and a small noise bubbled in his throat when Chan spread his cheeks minutely to rub a little bit of the liquid on and around his hole. It was nice and warm— Chan had likely heated it up for him once again.
Chan moved slowly to not disturb the peaceful state that Hyunjin was in, rubbing his finger around his rim for several beats until he was sinking it inside of the cat. He worked it in and out carefully, Hyunjin’s natural wetness making it easier, and Chan was eventually adding in a second one.
Hyunjin kept his eyes shut and enjoyed the feelings as they came. It was almost trance-like— the stretch was nice, the cushions were nice, the warmth was nice. Despite everything, Chan never really sought out his prostate during this, but it didn’t feel necessary.
It felt good but it wasn’t about the pleasure right now— it wasn’t what felt important to Hyunjin. It was the intimacy; the way he was being so tenderly taken care of, so filled with love.
He didn’t need the orgasm at all.
Eventually Chan slid his fingers out and Hyunjin sighed, sinking more into the bed and letting his tail flick around again.
Finally, he felt the smoothness that was the mouth of the vial being lined up with his entrance and gently pressed inside. The vials that Minho kept had small openings, not much thicker than someone's finger, with thin necks that could be pressed just slightly inside of him to deposit the potion.
He felt it shift as Chan pulled the little stopper on the bottom that released the pressure and then could feel the liquid start to flood into him. This never took too long. Chan held it steady and pet him again, soothing him further with warm touches and caresses.
The potion did a lot of things, but mainly it prepared Hyunjin’s body for the ritual, keeping him relaxed and pain free. Minho had brewed so many batches of it over the years, he had the recipe perfected by now.
It didn’t take long for it to empty entirely, so Chan gently pulled it free, taking care to ensure none of it spilled out. Hyunjin turned his head and peeked an eye open to watch as Chan grabbed the little satin pouch and dropped the little crystal plug into his palm.
Another beautiful gift from his witches.
It was amethyst— a gorgeous lavender colour, and it kept all of Minho’s potion in him to be absorbed into his body. On the base there was a small golden sigil, a little charm placed there by Changbin, also designed to prepare Hyunjin and keep him comfortable.
Chan took the plug and rubbed it against his wet hole, letting it collect some of the residual liquid there to ease the glide, even though Hyunjin was pretty sure it would go in easily at this point regardless— his body was so pliant and welcoming right now it would take anything.
But that was part of the point he supposes.
He exhales when there's finally a gentle press, and his body gives way for the largest part of the plug and squeezes back around the tapered end.
“Good?” Chan whispers, likely trying to keep the atmosphere tranquil for Hyunjin’s sake.
“Mhm,” Hyunjin replies and Chan pets him.
“Kitten, I know you’re tired but can you tell me properly?”
It’s a pretty gargantuan effort to respond, so he starts with a huff.
“’s good.”
The responding smile that Chan gives him makes it worthwhile though, especially when the witch follows it up with a tender kiss to his forehead.
Hyunjin lets his eyes fall shut while Chan cleans up slightly, wiping down his hand and any wetness that dampened Hyunjin’s skin. He’s just barely awake when Chan slides onto the cushions himself, and heaven knows, no matter how sluggish and tired this cat was, if cuddling was available, he was going to get every second of it.
So he pushed himself out of the pillows to make eye contact with the witch, and let out a low whine that had Chan cooing and predictably pulling his familiar closer to him. It jostles his crystal plug and he can feel the potion sloshing around in him, but it’s not enough for anything more than a little aborted noise in his throat.
If he had the energy to smirk at how easy that was, he would, but instead he lets Chan wrap his arms around him as he drifts off to sleep.
He wakes up throughout the night a few times, but just barely. Just enough that he would have thought the voices and movements to be dreams, but when the sun beams through the blinds and he opens his eyes to see more limbs than just his and Chan’s, he knows that it was real.
It’s pleasantly warm– both from the sun and all the body heat, it would make him want to sleep again if not for the quiet rumble in his stomach now. He shifts, just slightly, just so he can partially stretch his body and readjust his tail. His movement seems to alert someone that he’s awake because a deep voice rumbles behind him just as arms tighten around his waist.
“Is our pretty kitty up?”
Felix is pressed against his back, the cat having shifted (or been pulled) against the younger witch sometime in the night. He hadn’t seen much of him the previous day, so the sight of his bright eyes and freckles has the cat smiling over his shoulder.
“Mm, hi Felix.”
He felt more rested than he had in a few days, still slow and weighed down, but with enough energy that he would be willing to get up and do something of his own accord.
“Are you hungry?’
But he still preferred to be doted on.
Felix helped him out of bed, them both being careful to not disturb a sleeping Chan, and the younger didn’t let go of his hand the entire trip to the kitchen. He didn’t bother with pants, his loose shirt hanging low enough on his thighs that it kept him decent and comfortable. Especially since Minho seemed to be cooking, and the heat resulting from that was warming their home.
“Minho was making something for you,” Felix whispers conspiratorially as he presses Hyunjin into the kitchen chair, like Minho didn’t spend the entire lead up to full moons making things for Hyunjin.
His tail flicks around and he hums, watching Minho putter around assembling something while Felix stands behind him.
“After you eat,” Felix starts to say and Hyunjin tilts his head back onto the witches chest, wanting to see the smile that he could hear in his voice, “I can take care of you, okay?”
That sounded nice.
So he smiled back up at the witch and agreed. Felix stayed where he was, combing his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair and humming to himself, and Hyunjin just watched Minho work. Having a bit more clarity this morning was very welcomed, the haze on the edge of his vision had retreated so much he almost wonders if Minho made a new alteration to the potion Chan gave him last night.
The thought had him more aware of the crystal plug still nestled inside of him. All of the potion was fully absorbed into his system now, but the restfulness has him feeling more inclined to rock against the amethyst.
He barely readjusts his weight once before Minho is turning around with a plate of food.
“Good morning sweetheart,” he takes a seat beside Hyunjin, setting the plate down in front of himself. “Did Chan help you last night?”
Hyunjin doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Minho is pulling him out of his seat with a little squeak. He lands in Minho’s lap, strong arms wrap around his middle and Minho’s chin settles over his shoulder. He’s entirely forgotten the question as he enjoys the contact with his witch.
His first witch.
“He did,” Hyunjin purrs, leaning back onto Minho’s chest.
“Good.” Minho responds, kissing Hyunjin’s shoulder and taking a gentle hold of Hyunjin’s tail. Minho always held him with so so much love. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if Minho was packing magic into his touch or not because of it, because of how sweet and gentle it was anyway.
“How are you feeling?” The witch asks as he lets his black tail move through his hand. “Potion okay?”
The way Minho was inquiring about it basically confirmed his suspicions from earlier, so he takes his time in answering, thinking about how he feels, and how it’s different than usual.
“Mm.. I feel clearer.” He starts and Minho hums, encouraging him to continue. “I feel…” he tries again, struggling to explain how the magic usually bogs him down, and how that’s not really the case right now. “…more like a glass of water than a bowl of pudding.”
The petting on his tail pauses for a second as Minho digests his comparison. Maybe it was silly, but Minho would try to get it, Hyunjin knew he would.
The pets on his tail resume. “Thinner?” Minho asks for clarification and Hyunjin hums, tilting his head back and forth.
“In a way.”
He knows Minho can at least sort of tell how he feels through their magic bond, but he was always so so careful with Hyunjin anyway, always wanted to make sure that they were fully on the same page.
“Crisp?” He tries.
Hyunjin’s ears flick. “Mm, yeah.” That was closer to what he felt. “I think so.”
He can feel Minho smile against him, can feel how he’s pleased with these answers by the way he hums.
“Sometimes I feel like you two speak a different language,” Felix laughs, smiling and happy, plucking a berry out of the bowl on the table. It makes Hyunjin smile.
Of course Hyunjin loved all of his witches, and they all meant the world to him— but the bond between him and Minho would always just be a little bit different. Minho was his first witch. He was made for him, their magic was meant for each other. They had been bonded the longest because of that.
Chan wasn’t far behind, they practically met at the same time, but Minho was fated for Hyunjin.
—
Minho’s parents knew there was something strange about him as a child. Even Minho knew, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on it. They tried to encourage that he spent time with other children, from families they approved of, but it was hard for young Minho to connect with them when he felt so.. utterly different from them.
He could never place it, and it made him withdrawn. It was so hard for him push through when so many things made him feel so uncomfortable in his own skin.
Having a recluse, odd child was never what his parents wanted— and it went too far against their plans. Surely their child was normal and perfect, perhaps he was just sick and could be cured.
Minho has memory after memory of sitting in many unfamiliar doctor’s offices, getting test after test, watching his parents frown as they would be delivered the news.
“He’s a normal, healthy child, Mr and Mrs Lee. Perhaps he’s just a little shy.”
They kept him on a short leash though, strictly controlling who was around him, what kind of media he was taking in, everything.
Not every single memory he has of his parents is negative, but they’re the ones that usually linger closer to the front of his mind. How his parents held so much prejudice for anyone different from them, how they would scoff at anyone who wasn’t 100% human.
He remembers his father always double checking that their shed was closed and their garbage was locked, muttering about how he didn’t need any ‘filthy hybrids’ digging around for food. Or his mother guiding him away from magical children, telling him he couldn’t play with those kids, that they were evil and dangerous.
It confused him. In hindsight, it was beyond easy to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but as a young, lost child, all he knew was that the only people that didn’t make him feel like a freak were the ones his parents vehemently did not approve of.
As a young adult, Minho left home for university. He didn’t have much but a scholarship to a school in a bigger city and parents who didn’t want him to go even though it was clearly the best opportunity.
He left anyway, and he kept his parents at arms length, finally free from their sheltering but still so lost.
The first year was long and hard. After a lifetime of not ever finding his stride with his peers, he didn’t bother trying at university.
Second and third year went by much the same. Minho went to classes and studied, and not much else went on in his life. He liked cooking, he liked his part time job at a cat shelter, working a couple evenings a week when he had later classes the next day, tending to the cats after close.
It was fine, especially by his standards. He liked school, he liked cooking, he liked cats. Maybe something more would be nice but at this point, Minho was so tired of trying.
Worse than the fatigue that never went away was the emptiness. It was only ever under the cloak of night did he ever let it get to him, curling up in his cold bed, shivering and crying himself to sleep. Did he deserve this? What was so wrong with him that he seemed to be destined for a life of solitude?
The next morning he would pretend it had never happened, even though his mouth would be so dry that his tongue felt as though it didn’t fit in his mouth, his eyes still red and sore, and the gaping hole in his chest was raw and agitated.
But life keeps moving whether or not it gets harder and harder every day for Minho to drag himself out of bed, to get ready for classes that felt less important all the time and to come home where everything he did just felt like a distraction while he waited for the next day.
He didn't really have much solace in sleeping, often dreaming of vague, cold and damp spaces.
Very seldom, he would dream of this strange unfamiliar warmth, that he had never felt before. One that would wrap around him and patch up all of the little holes he had, only to wake up aching and cold. Those mornings hurt enough that even the few pleasant nights he had were just as painful.
His parents didn't come often, and it was always under the guise of visiting but Minho always felt more like it was surveillance. But when it came down to it, he loved them, so he thanked his mother for his new ring, replacing his old one and promising to wear it often.
“Wear it every day.” She corrected and Minho nodded, accepting the only love he knew however it was given to him.
In his final year, it was even harder.
The way his courses were arranged left him with no availability to work at the cat shelter anymore, so he instead found a job at the library on campus.
It was fine, and he would be fine— he missed the cats, but again, life kept moving forward.
The library was often pretty bustling, students and staff taking up all of the different seating in all the different corners of the massive building. Minho didn’t mind the work, getting to be around people without needing to engage with them was nice, and he got to learn the patterns of the regulars.
He didn’t care for many of the other people that worked there though. The library itself didn’t have too much staff, but the university itself had hired campus security that made their rounds and there was a small cafe near the entrance. For the first several months there, Minho didn’t think anything of the security and the baristas, but when he watched the young girls whisper and point at a dog hybrid after she ordered a drink with them, and the security personnel keep a closer eye on the young adult, Minho made up his mind on them.
It was a quieter evening, probably a combination of the rain that had been coming down off and on, and it being a slower time of the year, so Minho took to busying himself with organizing. Usually he spent most of his shift putting books back, or sorting out the new orders that he didn’t have time for anything else.
The other library attendant was taking advantage of the down time, the first year student currently sitting behind the front counter on their phone. Minho didn't mind, and he wouldn't say anything to the librarian. He wasn't her boss.
It was nice to focus on the task and listen to the quiet murmur of whispered conversations and the patter of rain outside.
He’s lost in the calm repetition when someone speaks to him, he turns and returns the greeting, expecting to be asked for directions or guidance only for the man to make an odd statement.
“The moon sure is high tonight.”
Minho’s sure he must be making a face, because that seems like a strange thing to just… say to someone? And the way he said it was like he expected it mean something. Minho stayed still, processing the words and watching the man. He wasn’t very tall and had dark hair and dimples, watching Minho with warm eyes, seeming to be waiting for a response.
“Uh…” he puts a book back on the shelf. “I guess?”
He almost feels bad for how quickly the man’s face falls, but his response continues to confuse Minho.
“Oh— oh.” He stutters, “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” he trails off and Minho tilts his head. The man was strange, but there was something so alluring about him, so warm.
He can’t help but wilt though, because clearly he thought Minho was someone else, so he gives a tight smile and prepares himself for the man to now walk away.
Except he doesn’t, instead he smiles, seeming to have collected himself. “Sorry, I guess I was confused. My name is Chan.”
Minho falters, unsure of what to say and settling on a polite, “it’s alright.”
He figures this would be when Chan would wander off, but instead he gets, “what’s your name?”
Minho blinks, giving it to him.
“Minho,” Chan tests, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He isn’t sure what to do at this point, giving what he hopes is a smile back and picking up another book. He keeps expecting Chan to leave, and is less sure how to navigate the interaction every time the man speaks.
Despite the uncertainty though, he finds himself slightly dreading the thought of him walking away. But Chan lingers, smiling and easygoing.
His eyes flick around on the ground near Minho’s feet before he asks another strange question.
“Aren’t you— missing someone..?”
“I don’t think so..?” Distantly, he hopes he’s not being rude, he’s just a bit out of his element right now.
Chan looks confused. “Someone to, uh, help you?”
Then it dawns on him. “Ohh, the other attendant is at the front right now.”
Except Chan looks confused again, but he seems to shake it away so he can continue asking Minho questions. Things like, if he went to school here, what was he studying, where had he moved from.
The rigidness he was so used to when interacting with others thawed away slowly as they spoke.
Eventually Chan had to leave, and Minho found himself missing the strange man. He would never say it out loud, but he spent the rest of his shift thinking about what it would be like it stay in that kind of warmth.
It’s only a week or so later when he sees Chan again, the man seeking him out at the library to say hello.
It was… nice. Minho found himself smiling at the books the rest of the day after Chan left, chatting with him for a little while. He was just so kind, and Minho didn’t feel like a live wire around him.
It became a bit of a routine, almost every shift had Minho wondering if he would show up to say hello, and his stomach would twist whenever he heard his voice.
Just after exam season was a bit of a mess at the library, and Minho had been rushing a bit more than usual to clean up.
A shelf above his head was quite out of order, leaving no room for the books on his cart that were supposed to go up there. With a sigh, he reaches up to grab the misplaced ones only to squeak as a brochure that had been stuffed up there as well fell onto his upturned face. It would have been fine if the card stock hadn’t collected dust for who knows how many years, making Minho flinch, squeezing his eyes shut and stumbling to the side as it all landed on his face.
His hip connects with his cart and he hears the stack of books tumble just as footsteps run up behind him. He’s just barely opening his eyes to see the books floating back onto the cart at the same time Chan places a hand on his shoulder.
“You okay?” Chan asks, but he’s still blinking dust out of his eyes and reeling at how the books were now perfectly righted on his cart.
“What was that?” He finally gets out, pointing to the cart. Chan looks confused, eyes following to where he was referring.
“What was what?” He looks as lost as Minho feels.
He blinks, looking between the cart and Chan, sputtering. “They fell..? And now—” He doesn’t finish, he doesn’t know how to finish.
Thankfully Chan seems to pick up on what Minho is trying to say though, and his entire expression shifts and he has an easygoing smile that soothes how flustered Minho feels.
“Oh, I did that.” He laughs lightly, rubbing at the back of his neck.
Does that mean…?
Chan confirms what he was thinking. “Minho, I’m uh, a witch.” His expression is hard to read, and Minho digests the information.
“I thought you knew. I hope that’s okay..” he trails off and looks uncertain, stepping back a little and Minho doesn’t really care much for that. He doesn’t want Chan feeling uncertain around Minho.
“Of course it’s okay.” He finds himself saying, even though he buzzes a little bit with adrenaline. He’s never really met a witch before, but Chan makes him so happy. Happy in a way he hasn’t really felt with another person.
In the back of his mind, he remembers his parents words— all the terrible and cruel things they had said over the years, about how witches were evil and rotten, how they stole and hurt people, and he thinks about how wrong that felt.
Chan was so kind and gentle, so warm and pleasant. He sought Minho out to say hello when Minho spent most of his life so, so alone. He wasn’t going to let go of this.
“I’ve just,” he swallows, choosing his words carefully, not wanting to offend Chan. “I’ve never met a witch before.”
And that has Chan reeling back.
“Really?” He gapes a little bit, and Minho laughs. If only Chan knew how his parents were.
“I grew up pretty sheltered,” says enough though.
Chan continues to visit him and Minho further warms up to the idea of the man being a witch. It makes sense, there was something a little magical about him when Minho thinks about it.
But the more he gets to know Chan, the more he resents his parents for the way they were.
Why did they have so much hate? The world was big and beautifully diverse, and they spent so much energy resenting that. It would never make sense to Minho.
It’s late in the afternoon when Chan comes by and finds Minho, immediately filling him with a warmth so characteristic of the witch.
He was really so sweet, and even after months, his stomach still swoops every time he sees Chan’s cute dimples.
“What time do you finish today?” Chan asks, flicking through a book on Minho’s cart idly.
Looking down at his watch with a hum. "In about 45 minutes actually," he replies, surprised at how the day went by rather quickly.
The sound of a throat clearing has him looking away from the shelves in front of him and over to a red cheeked Chan. Minho wasn’t sure why the sight made his heart race, until the witch started speaking.
“Did you,” he pauses to clear his throat again and Minho blinks, “want to uh, maybe get some coffee with me?”
Minho’s heart lurches into his throat as Chan finishes his question. “Like, as a date?”
It takes him a second to respond, overwhelmed but… excited.
Chan seems to melt with relief when Minho agrees, smiling and shifting in place, like he didn’t know what to do with himself, and honestly, Minho felt the same way, biting his cheek to stifle the silly smile that threatened to stretch across his face.
The rest of his shift passed by in a blur. A date, wow.
As Minho dropped his keys off at the front counter, he saw the witch lingering by the front doors and butterflies fluttered around in his stomach. He was really doing this!
And it was so nice to spend more time with Chan like this, not having to multitask or wonder how many minutes he would stay and chat.
Chan giggled and blushed, and Minho smiled so much that his cheeks hurt. They stayed at the little cafe until it closed, and then Chan walked him to his apartment where they sat on the little bench outside to continue talking for another hour. The cool fall air that would usually have Minho shivering didn’t bother him at all.
It wasn’t until Minho yawned and then Chan checked his phone for the time did the witch mention heading home himself, apologizing for how late it had gotten. But Minho didn’t care about the time, not even a little bit.
He followed Chan in standing up and walking back over to the door that led into his complex, smiling when Chan told him he had a nice evening and would love to spend more time together.
“I would too,” Minho whispered, both of them seeming to feel magnetized to the other, the space between them dwindling and dwindling until Chan was pressing a sweet kiss onto his lips.
Minho felt like a child with how giddy he was, riding the elevator to his floor, unable to stop pacing and smiling, touching his lips and replaying the moment over and over.
The moment he closes his door behind him though, it was as though the warmth and happiness slowly leeched out of him. But that probably made sense, right? He was still Minho, he still had the same life even though he went on a really great date with a really great guy that he likes a lot.
He fell asleep like any other night, and woke up feeling as hollow as usual. Vague memories from his dream plagued his mind— a tight space, a cold dampness that penetrated to his bones. The high of the previous night was completely forgotten until he checks his phone and sees that Chan had sent him a message, asking if he slept well.
Minho doesn’t think he even knows what sleeping well means, but the reminder of Chan and the date had him sitting up. At least he had something to look forward to during the day now.
Their relationship grew and developed pretty quickly in hindsight, but Minho didn’t know any different. It just felt like him and Chan were meant to find each other.
It was funny to look back on when he was so shocked to find out that Chan was a witch, because everything about him was just so magical. It was woven into everything he did, everywhere he went.
He learned that Chan had moved here from overseas, and had been trying to find his footing here for a couple of years. Chan would tell him stories of his family back home, and how close they were and Minho would ache a little bit, knowing how different his childhood was.
“Why here?” Minho had asked one day, and Chan laughed.
“Something was calling me here— witch intuition I guess.”
Dates grew more frequent and lasted longer, until eventually Chan was inviting Minho inside. His home was as warm and pleasant as Chan was.
And Chan learned about him, about how he liked his coffee and how much he loved cats.
But he also learned that Minho shivered every night, and often woke up disoriented and upset. Minho never explained that strange hollowness that lingered in his chest, but he would tell him how he had a hard time connecting with people.
Chan never pressed, he just held Minho close and kept extra blankets for him, brewing him tea and running his hands up and down his skin, warmed by magic.
The holidays were approaching and on the 21st of December, Chan invited Minho over.
Chan had mentioned that the solstice was an important day for witches, and Minho did a little bit of reading on it before his shift at the library one day. A lot of it went over his head— talk of rituals and spells— but the parts that he could participate in with Chan stood out to him. A meal shared between loved ones, presenting gifts and spending time together. Minho could do that.
He showed up at Chan’s door with a pie that he made, as well as some fried chicken he picked up on the way over.
His gift sits heavy in his pocket— he hopes Chan likes it.
Chan answers the door with his usual smile, and then his expression breaks a bit when he sees everything Minho is carrying.
“Minho…” Chan guides him inside and for a moment, he worries that he’s done something wrong, until he asks, “what is all of this?”
Minho clears his throat. “I brought it for you, for the solstice.” Chan’s eyes gloss and his lip trembles a little bit. “I did some research-” he starts to say, but is cut off by Chan engulfing him in a tight hug.
“Minho, you’re so good. Thank you so much.”
He hadn’t considered that maybe Chan hadn’t celebrated any of the solstices since he moved here, he was just trying to do his partner right. He wanted to embrace every part of him, even the parts he didn’t fully understand.
Chan sniffled over his shoulder, before putting some space between them to give Minho a kiss, and then laughing happily despite the tears in his eyes. “I love you so much,” is punctuated with another kiss and Minho absolutely preens.
They finally settle down for the evening, sharing friend chicken and pie— Chan lighting candles and explaining little pieces of history to Minho. He pulled out a little vial of some pink looking sand, and guided Minho’s hand in pouring it in intricate patterns on the table.
It was nice— intimate and just.. so special to share this with Chan. And thankfully Chan seemed to appreciate it too, kissing his cheek and murmuring his heartfelt thanks.
Eventually Minho pulled the little gift out of his pocket. He had been unsure if he should wrap it, or if that would be weird, so he settled on keeping it hidden within the box it came in and forwent any paper covering.
Chan seemed to know something was happening, because his story about mixing a disastrously bad potion as a pre-teen quickly comes to a halt as Minho reveals the little box.
With Chan’s attention on him, he forces himself to speak. “I, uh, got you something.” He’s sweating a little bit, nervous and out of his depth, but wanting to do this so so badly. “I hope it’s okay, I don’t know what people usually give for solstices…” He places the box in Chan’s palm and then waits with bated breath.
“I already love it.” Chan says with a sincerity that has Minho smiling.
“You haven’t even seen it,” he’s laughing lightly, excited to see Chan’s reaction.
“I don’t need to see it. I love it.” He says firmly, eyes flicking up from the box to meet Minho’s with a silly smile.
The suspense was starting to get to him, but he prefers this light hearted teasing over the nerves. “Open it!” He whines and Chan laughs, fingers finally lifting the edge of the little box open.
The gasp that comes from Chan startles him, but then Chan is saying his name.
“Minho, oh my god- Minho. This is gorgeous.” He marvels as he pulls a thin bracelet from the box. It had a gold band and the tiniest purple crystals embedded into it. Minho had really mulled over a gift idea for a few weeks, checking all the shops he could think of, but when he saw it, he just knew. “Minho— thank you so much.” Chan pulled him in for another kiss and Minho’s chest flutters. God he loves this witch.
He helps Chan put it on, and smiles as the man holds his wrist up to watch the crystal glimmer in the light.
Chan leans over and presses several, sudden kisses onto Minho’s face, leaving him flustered and giggling, only for the witch to get out of his seat and scamper away with a rushed, “be right back!”
Minho takes a moment to catch his breath. Never has he been so happy. He’s so happy when he’s with Chan, feeling like maybe he can experience fulfilment in life— even if he still feels strange and hollow sometimes— it’s world and worlds better than anything he’s ever known.
Chan comes back with a smile and his hands behind his back. “I have something for you too.” His excitement is contagious and Minho sits forward, leaning forward and looking up at his partner.
“I really hope it’s okay,” Chan trails off before he brings his hands forward, showing Minho a small orb, a little smaller than a tennis ball. It was ethereal, glimmering in the light, with swirls of gold twisting and swirling around in it even though it wasn’t moving at all. The witch knelt in front of him, holding the delicate object as he started to explain.
“It’s a charm— I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to make it for you. It’s really hard to break, and as long as it’s swirling, the magic is still active and it should keep you warm.”
Chan looks proud of it, and that alone makes Minho happy— but when he thinks about the gift itself, he could cry. It sounded like Chan worked really hard on it, and it would help Minho through the nights he’s not with Chan, when he’s cold and overwhelmed.
“Thank you so much,” Minho marvels. It’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever given him— so thoughtful and catered exactly to him and his needs. It was hard to swallow past the lump in his throat but he still put out his trembling hand when Chan gestured for it so he could place it in his palm. “I really love it.”
“Try it out,” Chan says as he finally deposits it in his palm, but neither of them could have been prepared for how all of the movement within the orb immediately fell still.
In Chan’s hand, it looked ethereal and otherworldly— but the moment it touched Minho’s, it looked like a normal bronze sphere, with different etchings all over its surface.
Chan reeled back, tilting his head in confusion, brow furrowed and murmuring a quiet, “what…?”
Maybe it was just bad timing— maybe the magic in it had some sort of timeframe it worked within. Chan made it sound like it was a challenge to make, and maybe it just.. expired with humorous timing?
Minho turns it over in his hand, admiring all the etchings— still thankful for the thought and the effort all the same.
“Can I…?” Chan asks, holding his hand out and Minho has no issue with depositing it back into the witches hand, maybe he wanted to power it back up or however it worked. But the moment it left Minho’s fingers, it immediately started to swirl and glow gently once more.
Chan frowned.
They repeated the exchange again, Minho watching curiously as it became a normal, human object the second it came into contact with him and lighting up magically as soon as it left contact with him.
Minho didn’t understand— but it wasn’t really for him to understand, this all being so beyond him and above his head. He was just a chemistry student dating a witch. None of his knowledge was going to be helpful.
“Minho… if I place this on the table, would you touch it?” Chan looked confused, eyebrows still furrowed and mouth set, thinking hard to figure out what was wrong.
And Minho had no issue helping Chan figure it out the only way he could, so when Chan set it on the table, he slowly extended his hand to lay a finger on the orb.
Moving towards it much slower was a different experience, because he could feel the way it hummed with energy now, how it radiated a gentle warmth that reminded him so much of the witch— but once again, the second his skin made contact, it all disappeared.
Chan hummed, squinting.
“Minho, would you know if you had any sigils on you?” Chan gently asked tentatively. It was obvious he was trying to tread lightly, not wanting to seem accusatory or anything.
But when it came to answering the question, Minho didn’t know what to say. “I’m not sure? How would I know?”
Chan stared at his still outstretched hand, and then he suddenly paused. He spoke slowly, like he was trying to not scare him— which didn’t make sense to him based on what he asked next.
“Do you ever take that ring off?” He gestured to the ring on his held out hand and Minho looked at it. His parents gave it to him, and before this one, he had a different one. He’s grown up always wearing one from them and he told Chan just that.
“Wear it every day.” Echoed in his head and a shiver rippled up his spine. Chan seemed like he was starting to piece something together, but Minho wasn’t.
“Could I see it?” Chan asked, still gentle, still soft, and Minho agreed, taking his hand off the orb and twitching when it immediately lit up again, pulling the ring free and dropping it into Chan’s hand.
Chan turned it over in his hand and Minho held his breath, waiting for the witch to say something. He didn’t at first though, but he did levitate Minho’s keys that were sitting on the shelf beside them, not high, just a few inches, leaving them suspended there as he took the ring and slipped it on, making Minho startle as the keys fell from the air immediately after the ring surrounded Chan's finger.
Pieces were starting to come together, but the picture they were making still didn’t make any sense— even after Chan asked him to pick up the orb again, this time the magic still swirling while he held it, making him gasp and tear up, feeling overwhelmed and warm and loved— like he was home.
Like he had never been home before, and now he was standing outside of it after a long day, keys in hand.
“Minho—” Chan spoke slowly, carefully. “Minho, this ring has a constraint sigil in it.” He said as he took it off himself, and placed it on the table in front of them.
And Minho didn’t really know what that meant— constraint? But he didn’t need to try to figure it out, because Chan already had.
“Minho,” Chan whispered, with tears in his eyes. “My love, I think you’re a witch.”
The rest of the night was a bit of a mess.
There were enough tears that Minho woke up dehydrated and with a headache. Between the sorrow and disbelief there was anger— at his family, at his parents.
He couldn’t help but call them— desperate for answers, for some sort of explanation even though he knew it wouldn’t undo anything.
But the reality was that Minho already knew what the answer was, and hearing it from the crackled speaker of his phone didn’t really do anything for him but make it easier for him to block their number.
“We knew there were risks, but we did what we had to. The day you showed symptoms and a doctor confirmed you were developing magic, we had a priest make that ring.”
“No son of ours was going to be some sort of demon.”
But now, he’s calmed down, waking up in Chan’s bed, tucked in his arms. The witch was awake already, idly rubbing his thumb over Minho’s knuckles and humming quietly.
He probably knows Minho has woken up, but he doesn’t say anything. Not for a long while at least.
Not until he finally murmurs something that has their first meeting making sense even though he had never questioned it before.
“You know,” Chan’s voice rumbles, “I had thought you were a witch when I first saw you. You can kind of feel it on people. Then when you didn’t know the moon address, I thought maybe witches just said something different here."
He thinks back to that first meeting, fondly remembering how confused he was when Chan greeted him. "But after you saw me do magic… your reaction— someone who was a witch, they wouldn’t be so surprised by that.”
Minho shifts so that his lips are right against Chan’s throat to mumble. “Guess you were right.”
Chan rubs his back and they fall silent again.
Minho had spent his entire life feeling like he was on the outskirts— like he didn’t belong. So much that it hurt— and now to know that this was a decision his parents made? It left him reeling.
Who was he? What did this mean?
It was too much, definitely too much all at once, and he finally cracked. A sob finally broke free and he cried into Chan’s skin, and the witch held him through it all, all of his questions and uncertainty.
“How— how do I even be a witch?” He wept, crying harder when Chan squeezed him close.
“You don’t have to do anything, my love. You just are,” Chan told him. “We’ll get through this. You’re strong.”
Chan did his best to help with getting Minho adjusted to his new life. His magic seemed to take a few weeks to come out of it’s dormancy, but once it did, and Minho had taken time to start processing things, they started little lessons. He crafted his first potion and made a simple charm.
After tossing the ring away, a lot of the things Minho couldn’t make sense of went away. He didn’t feel like he fit in properly because he a massive part of him was stifled.
But one thing that never went away were his strange dreams and the terrible hollow feeling. It was almost as if it was amplified now— like maybe the dreams were hazy and hard to remember because of the ring, and now he was getting the full force of them.
Eventually, he mentions it to Chan.
“I think maybe we should visit a seer.”
They had to travel across the city to the shop the seer worked at, but once they arrived, Minho was surprised that it looked like a normal store from the outside. Chan opened the door for him to walk in and it looked just as normal inside, there were canisters of teas covering the shelves and a short, older woman standing behind a counter.
She had long dark hair, but warm brown eyes that watched them carefully as they approached.
“Hello," Chan greeted. "Are you Moon Jisoo?” She didn't say anything in response, only nodding, face carefully blank.
“My partner has just found out he’s a witch and is seeking guidance.” Chan explained and the woman nodded once more. Minho appreciated how much he was taking the reigns, because ever since his world was turned upside down he felt like he didn’t know a single thing.
Her eyes bore into Minho, feeling like she was looking right through him. “Come with me, I’ll show you," she finally spoke.
She brought them deeper into her store, lifting curtains out of the way for them to walk under until they were in a smaller, more intimate space. Minho couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned over everything, all the books and jars, flowers and plants. There was a small table with seating all around it, and she took place on the one side.
“Please, take a seat.” She gestured to an empty chair while looking at Minho and his fear spiked, making him squeeze Chan’s hand.
“Would it be okay if I went first..?” Chan asked instead, keeping his voice quiet. “He’s never done this before and maybe seeing it before might… quell his nerves.”
If Minho wasn’t frozen in place with anxiety, he may have melted. Somehow, Chan seemed to always know what Minho needed.
“Of course,” she smiled, “take a seat.”
As Chan’s hand left his, Minho whispered a quiet ‘thank you’ to him.
Once in the seat, he placed his hand palm up on the table and she hovered her own above his. Minho shifted as he felt the air change.
Her eyes clouded over to be entirely white once she laid her hand on top of Chan’s.
The witch didn’t seem frightened at all, so Minho pushed down all of his uncertainty. Chan wouldn’t bring him anywhere that wasn’t safe, he knows that.
It was silent for several moments, the air heavy and thick. “My dear, you have a beautiful coven.” She eventually said, white eyes boring into Chan.
Chan gave his characteristic laugh, rubbing his neck as he often did. “Oh, I don’t have a coven.”
She hummed, like she was expecting that response. “Not yet you don’t.”
Minho clenched his sweater between his fingers and Chan swallowed, waiting for her to continue. “You’ve already taken the first step, my dear.”
She’s silent again for another moment, and so is Chan, but she continues. “You have good intuition, but you must learn to trust it more.”
The clouds in her eyes faded after that, revealing the warm brown that they saw when they first came in and Chan turns to take his hand and guide him to step forward.
“See? Not so bad.”
Minho swallows, nodding. It certainly didn’t seem bad but that didn’t entirely erase his fear of the unknown.
“Come here, my dear.” The seer called him over, waving her hand kindly.
When Minho took a seat, he had to fight to keep the tremble out of his hand, following what Chan had done and placing it palm up on the table.
Jisoo watched him, still carefully blank. “Breathe, my dear. No harm will come to you.”
Once he took a deep breath, she lifted her hand above his, and he felt a tingle ripple across his skin that only increased as she slowly lowered her hand until it laid in his.
Just like with Chan, her eyes clouded over white. It was as though the shop faded away, and he couldn’t look away.
“My dear,” she eventually breathed. “You have a very powerful familiar, but he can’t find you.”
Familiar? Like… a cat?
“He has searched and searched— but he could not sense your magic.” She continued, her hand twitching just slightly in his. “But you can sense him.” It wasn’t long after that her eyes cleared and the colour returned to them. It had happened so quickly, and now Minho had more questions. Before anything else, she seemed to think of something.
“Wait here, my dears.” She said after a short pause, leaving her seat and then quickly returning with a long, delicate chain. On the end of it there was a thin crystal, with little patterns carved into it.
“It's your turn to look. It's been far too long for your familiar.” She explained, lowering the crystal into Minho’s palm, “this will help you.”
Minho stands to thank her, but before he can get a word out, she wraps her arms around him. “Your past had many challenges, but you have come out on the other side child. So much love is in your future.” The unexpected embrace and hopeful words have his eyes stinging when she pulls back, but he swallows the lump in his throat down so he can thank her.
They left the shop with a new task, and Chan told Minho everything he knew about familiars— how they were conduits for a witches magic, and strong ones would bond with the their witches entire coven, regulating their magic and keeping them healthy.
He explained how the bond between witch and familiar was so special. Covens were fated to find each other but familiars were made for their witches.
The emptiness he’s felt in his chest his whole life was meant to be filled.