Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chan had arrived in Seoul a week ago – seven days and twelve hours ago, to be exact – and he was more than ready to leave again. Something about the endless stretch of concrete and being alone in a city inhabited by millions of people had his beast scratching restlessly at the inside of his skin. He was used to being on his own, had barely known anything else for the last eight years of his existence, but this was the first time in a long while that he felt the sharp bite of loneliness quite as keenly. Apparently there was a difference between being alone while surrounded by nature and being alone in a city full of other people. 

Buildings towered above him, cars congested the street, bumper to bumper in the middle of the evening rush hour, while people swarmed around him on the busy walkway.

And Chan had never felt more alone in his life.

Then there was the smell. Not even the snow and ice were enough to mask the heavy, ever-present tinge of exhaust, the cloying stench of grease and too many people in one place, as he passed yet another fast food restaurant. He felt his stomach rumble despite the less than appetizing smell and he almost gave in and stepped into the place, when another gust of icy wind cut through the material of his jacket and triggered a full-body shiver from the shapeshifter.

But there was no time to waste. Food and a place to warm himself would have to wait, after all it had taken him much longer than expected to hunt down his old acquaintance Jaebum. He’d eventually found him in one of the countless underground clubs he’d searched and all that effort had finally paid off. Jaebum knew people and he’d been able to come up with a name and address for someone powerful enough to help Chan. But the additional week had taken a toll and Chan couldn’t afford to waste another damn minute. So with a last quick glance down at the scribbled directions on the piece of paper in his stinging hand, Chan hitched up his duffel, dragged his heavy feet forward and took a right at the next intersection.

He blamed his bone-deep exhaustion, hunger and desperate focus on the snowy walkway in front of him for the fact that it took him way too long to realize what exactly it was that had his nape tingling with sudden interest. But the moment he did, Chan’s feet came to a sudden, almost instinctive stop in the middle of the walkway. 

The stone cottage looked completely out of place in between the imposing high-rises flanking the street and not even the ache of his fatigue was able to drown out the prickle of curiosity at the unexpected sight. None of the other people walking past Chan – humans, all of them – took notice of the peculiar building, but considering the amount of magic cloaking the place, he wasn’t surprised.

It seemed to swirl around the house and seep from every fissure and crack in the walls. The small cottage, ivy winding its way up towards the roof, was something he’d expect to stumble across at the edge of a forest, not in the middle of a bustling city like Seoul. There were flowers growing in the white window boxes and large pots flanking the wooden door, housing a wild array of lush blooms and sprouting green, despite the frosty temperatures. Warm, welcoming light spilled out of the windows of the ground floor and there was an insistent tugging in Chan’s chest that urged him to step closer. 

He didn’t even realize he was smiling at the wooden sign above the door, Yawning Cat Teashop , until he felt the strange stretching of his frozen cheeks. It was a feeling so entirely unfamiliar, Chan startled out of his spellbound appraisal of the strange building and forced himself to focus on the task at hand again. Even though the sign in the window of the front door spelled ‘ Open’ , he had somewhere else to be. Every moment he spent there staring, meant another moment exposed to the sharp tugging of the icy wind and he already felt half frozen in his insufficient jacket and jeans ripped from excessive wear.

The unforgiving temperatures shouldn’t have bothered him so much, but things had changed that fateful night so many months ago and he was no longer the same Chan that could simply shrug it off as a minor inconvenience. There was nothing for him here, no matter how much the inherently curious part of him urged him to take a few steps closer and explore this weird place he’d stumbled upon.

It took way more effort than it should, but he eventually pulled his gaze away from the charming cottage and forced his feet to start moving again. Chan told himself it was just the sleep-deprivation and his colorful imagination that made it seem as if the temperature around him dropped even more with every step he took down the street and away from the place. He told himself it was just the unexpectedness of finding such a small, cozy-looking house among the towering buildings made of glass and steel that had him throwing a last, wistful look over his shoulder, before he finally rounded the next corner.

There was no time to explore and satisfy his curiosity. He had a curse to break.

🝓 🜚 🝰

The warlock’s place, when he eventually found it, immediately put his teeth on edge. His senses might have been dulled with exhaustion, a persistent haziness that never quite vanished from the edges of his mind, but that didn’t keep him from picking up on the sharp, unnatural scent in the air, the second the door was pulled open in front of him.

“Kim Hongjoong?”

He’d met a few warlocks in his lifetime and the man staring at him out of narrowed eyes definitely looked like one. Long hair pulled back into a ponytail, dressed in black and greys, too many piercings to count at first glance and magic pulsing off him in umistakable waves.

“Yeah. What do you want?”

“Jaebum gave me your name. He said you might be able to help me with a curse.”

At the sound of Jaebum’s name the worst of the tension melted out the man’s stance, the sharp edge in his scent mellowing out along with it. And yet some instinctive wariness clearly remained, as he let Chan step into his apartment and led him down an unlit corridor. The shifter might not spend a lot of time around others, but he had gotten used to people’s reactions to him a long time ago. The way they just seemed to feel naturally on edge around him, even if they didn’t understand the reason behind it. But Chan barely paid attention to the tension in Hongjoong’s shoulders, as they stepped into what was clearly the warlock’s work room. It looked like a mix between a library, shrine room and science lab, that acrid, cloying smell getting almost unbearably strong, the moment he stepped through the door.

“So what kind of curse are we talking about exactly?” the warlock asked as he sat down at his desk, pointing at the other free chair for Chan to take a seat.

Chan waved off the polite gesture with a shake of his head, too restless to sit down, despite the fact that his entire body was aching from the way it had been treated for the past several months. “I managed to piss off a mountain spirit, accidentally woke it up while I was exploring the cave it was sleeping in. Let’s just say it didn’t take it well. I haven’t been able to fall asleep ever since.”

“A mountain spirit,” Hongjoong hummed to himself, letting his eyes sweep from Chan’s feet all the way up his legs and torso, until he met his gaze again. “That explains a lot. I’m getting a sense of really strong protective magic from you and I was wondering what kind of powerful curse we were dealing with, if it managed to break through that. But no one’s immune to the magic of spirits. They don’t usually harm other beings, though.”

“Just my luck that I apparently stumbled across the most vengeful spirit in all of South Korea.”

Chan’s dry tone and words had the corner of the warlock’s mouth tugging up in an amused smirk. “Well, the good news is that their magic isn’t actually all that powerful. Breaking that curse shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

The shifter felt his entire body sag in relief at the words. Too many months of no sleep were taking a definite toll on him, his senses dulled, thoughts slow and scattered, while his body felt hollow and unbearably heavy at the same time. The prospect of finally being able to rest again nearly brought tears to his eyes.

They got down to settling on the proper payment and once the warlock was satisfied, he went to retrieve one of the heavy domes from the wall-to-wall bookcase. Chan definitely hadn’t bargained as much as he probably should have, his longing to just get it over and done with making him much more agreeable than usual. He didn’t particularly consider himself a push-over, but in that moment the description certainly seemed fitting. The shifter couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was tired. So painfully, soul-drainingly tired.

Obviously finding what he’d been looking for among the pages of his spell book, Hongjoong gave the words a last, perfunctory glance, before he stepped around the table and came to a halt in front of the shifter. The warlock raised his arm and Chan felt an uneasy shiver going down his spine as Hongjoong’s eyes turned a startling indigo.

Chan watched the stone in the middle of the warlock’s talisman light up in the same eerie color, felt the rise of his magic like a phantom touch against his skin, the same moment his beast roared awake inside of him and its magic punched out in feral defense. Hongjoong jerked back with a hissed curse and clear shock flashing in his eyes. It was gone with the next blink, but Chan could smell the sudden sour tinge in his emotions, saw the hesitancy in his movement, as he inched closer again, while the shifter desperately reigned in the beast. “Sorry.”

The next time the warlock’s magic rose between them, it was clearly testing, a cautious investigation, rather than the specific, targeted attempt at a spell it had been before. Even with a tight grip on his own magic, Chan knew it wasn’t working. He felt the warlock’s power clashing against him again and again, watched perspiration gather along his hairline while minutes trickled past and felt every single one of the warlock’s attempts simply roll off. They stood shrouded in unbroken silence for several minutes, before the warlock eventually dropped his arm and took a halting step back.

“Whatever protective magic is shielding you, I can’t get past it. It’s blocking me from the curse.”

The shifter knew. He’d felt it. And yet the sensation of his tentative hope crumbling beneath the weight of reality was painful enough to have him sucking in a shuddering breath.

Chan had known his magic was powerful, he’d just never considered it would become an obstacle when it came to breaking his curse like this. The spirit hadn’t had any problem getting through with his curse, but that was because nothing stopped a spirit’s magic, unless you were actively shielding against it. Chan, caught completely unaware, hadn’t even had time to realize what was happening, before the mountain spirit’s curse had slammed into his chest. It seemed his protective magic was a much bigger obstacle for the warlock than it had been for the spirit.

“Are you sure there’s no way you can get past it?” Any other day the easily distinguishable note of desperation in his voice would have had Chan’s insides shrivelling with embarrassment. But after almost a year of sleepless nights, not a single moment of pure, undisturbed rest, there was nothing left to shrivel in humiliation. He felt hollowed out like a felled, rotten tree trunk. So brittle and stretched thin, he felt just one too hard push away from cracking.

But even like this Chan could tell the warlock felt genuinely reluctant to reply. He watched the muscles in his jaw shift, like he was clenching it enough to grind his teeth. “Not unless you’re willing for me to do any real damage. And even then I’m not entirely sure it would be enough. I actually doubt it. That magic surrounding you doesn’t just protect you, it wants to lash out at anything harming you. I might just end up killing us both.”

Chan felt the words impacting with the sharpness of a slap to the face.

“I don’t know what you are, but you’re not going to find a warlock powerful enough to force down your magic. Not in this city. Your best bet is to find that spirit and beg him to lift the curse again.”

🝓 🜚 🝰

Chan was too numb with shock and devastation to even feel the cold as he trudged back through the snow. He wasn’t even aware of where he was going. He just blindly put one foot in front of the other, desperate to keep moving. As if keeping in motion would prevent reality from catching up with him.  

The chances of ever setting eyes on a spirit were ridiculously low, which meant encountering the same spirit a second time was an endeavour so fantastical, it might as well be completely impossible. And it wasn’t as if Chan hadn’t already tried. The moment he’d realized what exactly it was the spirit’s magic had done to him, he’d set out to find it again. The shifter had spent months roaming that mountain in search of it, but had eventually admitted defeat when the effects of the curse had started manifesting with increasing vehemence. That was the moment he’d realized he needed to look for a different solution to the problem.

His plan B had turned out to be a bust as well, Plan C had just followed it down the drain and there was no Plan D.

Kim Hongjoong had been his best bet and finding a more powerful warlock was going to take time. Time he wasn’t entirely sure he still had. Chan felt himself growing weaker, more desperate, with every passing day. And that had been while he’d still had a clear goal in sight, instead of aimlessly drifting through the days like a shadow of his former self.

The sharp sting of Chan’s nails digging into his palm was what yanked the shifter out of his spiralling thoughts. And it wasn’t until he looked up from where he’d been glaring down at the icy walkway that he realized the scene in front of him was oddly familiar.

Yawning Cat Teashop

Maybe he should have been surprised to find himself standing in front of the cottage he’d discovered before. Close enough this time to have the light from the windows spilling onto his scuffed, snow-crusted boots. But he didn’t feel capable of that strong of an emotion anymore. The crushing disappointment of his confrontation with Kim Hongjoong left him feeling drained and forlorn to the point of numbness.

He wasn’t quite ready to admit that maybe there was something that felt a little bit inevitable about returning here. About the way the sight of it, the magic surrounding the place, almost seemed to beckon him closer. Chan didn’t fight the compulsion this time. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go and awareness of how stiff from the cold he felt was finally settling in.

About to stomp his feet on the small stoop to get rid of the snow sticking to his boots, Chan realized that stepping onto the doormat had already magicked away any kind of dirt and moisture. His boots still were as worn-down and scuffed as ever, but they looked like someone had just spent a good hour cleaning and polishing them. Fascinated and charmed, Chan finally pushed open the door of the shop to step inside and was immediately encompassed by blessed warmth and the comforting scents of dried herbs, various spices and freshly steeped tea. A bell above the door gave a merry and welcoming tinkle.

The room was smaller than Chan had expected, with just a stretch of polished, but clearly footworn wooden floor leading up to a long counter with almost wall-to-wall shelving behind it, only broken up by an open door that seemed to lead into the back of the cottage. For the moment the shop room was empty except for Chan.

The shelves, filled to the brim and almost reaching up to the ceiling, continued along the wall to Chan’s right and covered it in its entirety. The contents appeared to be a mix of jars of tea and dried herbs, books, mismatched tea sets and other crockery, various stones and living plants. Chan even spotted what he belatedly realized was a sleeping cat curled up atop the shelf, as he let his gaze sweep along the length of it, turning his body and feeling oddly charmed by the sight. The disorderly display seemed almost intentional, as if there was a system to the chaos he just didn’t understand yet. It made Chan want to step closer and see what other intriguing things he might be able to spot among the shelves.

“Looks like I should have interpreted the dragon in my tea leaves a bit more literal this morning.”

Whirling around at the soft-spoken words, immediately on edge at the fact that he hadn’t sensed anyone approaching, Chan spotted a man stepping through the door behind the counter. Dressed in a simple grey shirt and black jeans, the man was gorgeous in a gentle, ethereal way, appearing almost fragile in his other-wordly beauty and the perfectly sculpted details of his facial features.

Until you took a proper look at his eyes and found yourself confronted with the sharp intelligence and watchfulness lurking behind the deceivingly mild expression on his face. Any appearance of harmlessness or fragility melted away like ice beneath the burning mid-summer sun. 

Even with his senses as dulled as they were, Chan had no problem recognizing a witch when he was looking at one.

If the house and shop inside had felt drenched in magic, it was nothing compared to the energy swirling around the man. Chan felt it like static across his skin from several feet away, the tiny hairs at the back of his neck standing up in primal awareness. It didn’t seem like the witch was purposefully exuding magic, but he was also doing nothing to hide or dampen the power he was radiating. Chan almost felt the grind of his tired brain trying to make sense of the situation, to come up with a reply to the rather straight-forward “greeting”. He wasn’t given enough time to succeed.

With a startled catch of his breath, he felt his beast stirring inside of him. He braced himself against the wave of aggression, but to his complete surprise there was nothing threatening or agitated about the reaction. Instead it almost seemed like his beast was simply curious about the mysterious, clearly powerful man in front of him, rubbing up against the inside of his skin as if trying to get closer.

Chan had a feeling the witch sensed some of it at least, judging by the way the man’s eyes lit up with unmistakable surprise. Just a moment later he walked out from behind the counter and stepped close enough that lifting his arm would have been enough for Chan to be able to touch him. He remained firmly in place, but did nothing to fight the way his eyes shifted from human to beast, letting his other half get a good look at the intriguing stranger. The witch seemed barely affected by the sudden change, merely raised one of his perfect eyebrows. “That’s quite the nasty curse you’re carrying around with you.”

The complete casualness of the statement was enough to finally spur Chan’s brain into action again. “Nasty is a good way to describe it.”

“A spirit, I’m guessing?”

Chan’s surprise at the accuracy of the guess had to be showing on his face, as the witch’s lips curled into a barely there smile, before he answered the shifter’s unspoken question. “It’s not every day something or someone manages to curse a dragon.”

It also wasn’t all that common for someone to take just one look at Chan and immediately realize what he was. It had only happened to him once before, but the shifter kept the thought to himself, oddly reluctant to steer the conversation off its current path. Instead he felt himself blurt out a completely different question. “Can you help me break it?”

Chan wasn’t quite sure where the irrational sprig of renewed hope was coming from. Witches weren’t exactly known for dealing with problems like the shifter’s, their area of expertise actually encompassing the complete opposite side of magic. They were known for their affinity for all things connected to nature, not the bestowing or breaking of curses. The witch in front of him didn’t seem particularly surprised by Chan’s question though. Instead he tilted his head to the side, as if he was merely contemplating his words, and even though the expression on his face didn’t change, there was something about the look in his eyes that made Chan think he had somehow amused the other man.

“Only one way to find out, right?”

🝓 🜚 🝰

Seated on the ridiculously comfortable couch next to the lit fireplace in the backroom of the shop that seemed to function as a kitchen and living space at the same time, Chan watched the witch flit around and gather ingredient after ingredient. Compared to the charmingly chaotic shop room, this part of the cottage still seemed comfortably lived in and cozy, but much more orderly, shelves immaculately organized.

It was more of a passing observation though, since Chan found himself oddly distracted. Ever since the witch that had introduced himself as Minho had caught its attention, his beast simply refused to settle down. It remained pressed up against the inside of his skin, with only Chan’s eyes betraying the laser focus of his beast on the witch.

If Minho turned around to look at him now, he would once again be met by the glow of his dragon’s golden eyes. And yet Chan didn’t actually feel like he was on the verge of turning into his other self, like his feral side was about to take over. It still didn’t stop his dragon's innate curiosity from getting the better of him, as Minho seemed to finish collecting his ingredients and filled a medium sized pot with water. Quietly getting up, Chan moved closer until he was standing next to the witch, careful not to get in his way, and watched the other man set the pot on the stove and turn on the heat.

“Has someone tried breaking the spirit’s curse already?”

Chan felt kind of silly for expecting Minho to brew the potion in a cauldron over the flames of the fireplace. So it took him a moment to get over the ensuing rush of embarrassment to realize that he’d been asked a question.

“Today, actually. An acquaintance told me about a powerful warlock that would be able to help me, but it didn’t work.”

“So you never met the warlock before?”

It was a seemingly random question, but when the witch stopped pulling the needle-like leaves from a sprig of rosemary to look at the shifter, the intent in his eyes had Chan thinking there was a fair amount of significance to his answer. And Minho didn’t come across as the type to ask useless questions.

He shook his head. “No, I just met him today.”

“Hm,” was Minho’s cryptic reply, before his lips curled back into a knowing smile. “He didn’t get through your dragon, huh?”

A burst of sudden emotion from the dragon that Chan identified as gleeful pride. For some unfathomable reason his beast was actually proud about the ruined attempt at breaking his curse. And Minho didn’t seem like he actually needed an answer, once again so mystifyingly accurate with his guesses. If they were actually guesses in the first place. Chan was beginning to have his doubts.

“Who’s the warlock?”

“His name is Kim Hongjoong.”

“I see,” the witch acknowledged his answer with an almost careless incline of his head. “He’s powerful, but not powerful enough.”

“And you are?” The clear challenge in Chan’s voice barely seemed to faze the witch and something about the unwavering smile on the man’s face settled the remaining frenzied agitation that had taken root after today’s failed attempt to break the mountain spirit’s curse. The dragon on the other hand perked up even more inside of him.

“I like to think so.”

He felt the pleased rumble from his beast vibrating through his bones and watched as Minho’s eyes flashed with a mystifying amount of awareness once again. Almost like he could sense the dragon’s reaction as easily as Chan. Which shouldn’t have been possible. After all Chan and the dragon were one and the same being - two souls inside one body, but also just one in a way that was impossible to explain.

“But I have a theory. There might not even be the need for a complicated potion.”

Chan considered asking about said theory and making the witch explain, but it had been entirely too long since he’d last felt this warm. Coupled with the herbal scent slowly filling the room and the way watching Minho work seemed almost hypnotic, he felt his bone-deep tiredness taking over again and draining away most of his curiosity. The witch had been nothing but spot-on with his “guesses” so far and Chan figured there was no harm in letting him attempt whatever he was planning.

So instead of mustering up the energy to question the other man, he continued to silently watch Minho work. Honestly more because it was hard to look away from him, rather than to keep an eye on what the witch was putting into his potion. Time seemed to trickle past ever so steadily, as Chan settled more of his weight against the clean counter and let Minho’s magic quietly wash over him.

It could have been mere minutes or several hours later, when Minho turned off the stove and went to collect what seemed to be a cup and a small ladle. Chan found himself smiling down at the faded drawings of tiny cats along the rim of the cup, as Minho filled it with the amber colored liquid.

“You might want to sit back down for this.” The sound of Minho’s voice startled Chan out of his daze.

Feeling a bit out of sorts, he blinked at the witch a few times before his words registered. Following on their heels was wariness that quickly spread through the shifter’s chest. “Why? Is it that bad?”

The trepidation in Chan’s voice had a genuine smile flashing across Minho’s face, so utterly stunning that he shifter didn’t even get the chance to resist, when the witch gently, but decidedly maneuvered him back to the couch. By the time he got over the sight and the way it had made the dragon push up against his skin again, Chan found himself firmly seated back on the couch. He had the cup in his hands and the witch standing over him with his lips curled up at one side and a sparkle in his eyes.

“Just trust me on this.”

And foolishly, Chan did. He’d known this witch for less than an hour, knew absolutely nothing about him, except for the fact that he understood things about Chan and his dragon that other people never had. But despite their unfamiliarity with each other, he felt oddly unconcerned at the prospect of taking a sip from the mysterious potion in his cup. The mild curiosity from his dragon still had him raising the cup to take a careful sniff of the dark, almost syrupy concoction, but he caught nothing except for the earthy and intensely herbal smell that already filled the entire room.

“I’d say ‘careful, it’s hot’, but that’s not really an issue here, is it?”

Chan met the other man’s amused gaze with a smile of his own and then he lifted the cup to his lips, before he could start to overthink. The taste was even sharper and more intense than the smell, but still pleasant enough that downing the entire content of the cup in a few gulps wasn’t too much of a hardship. After Minho’s previous comment he’d expected much worse. So he found himself looking down at the empty cup in mild surprise and carefully lowered it again.

For several seconds nothing happened. Chan felt the heat from the potion settle in his stomach, as Minho took back the empty cup, but other than that the entire experience felt strangely underwhelming. Like the content of his cup had been nothing more than regular tea. 

He was about to ask the witch what exactly they were waiting for, when - with the force of a brick wall coming down - his built-up exhaustion simply caved in on him. Dark spots flickered at the edge of his vision, his thoughts turned hazy and with a strangely muted kind of awareness, Chan felt momentary panic trying to flare up inside of him. His eyelids seemed too heavy to remain open, so he gave in and let them fall closed, but he couldn’t keep back the unsure whimper of a sound, as he felt control over his body slipping away from him. Before fear had time to fully settle in, Minho’s hand came down on his shoulder and then he was being gently guided onto his side, head coming down on what seemed to be one of the fluffy pillows.

“Shhh, it’s alright. Just sleep.” Minho’s voice was pitched low and soothing, the voice of someone trying to calm down a cornered animal, and Chan found tension flowing out of his body almost immediately. If he hadn’t already known Minho was magic, this would have made it glaringly obvious. His soothing tone and gentle hands had Chan surrendering to the sheer insurmountable pull of obliviousness. The last thing he was aware of, before sleep claimed him, was the gentle brush of fingers through his hair and the feeling of his beast pressing up against the inside of his skin once more.

🝓 🜚 🝰

Chan resurfaced into consciousness disoriented and immediately on guard. He sensed the presence of someone unfamiliar, as his thoughts tumbled over each other in an effort to remember where he was. Then the familiar scents of herbs, intermingled with the smell and sound of something delicious bubbling away on the stove, had memories flooding back and wariness seeping out of him. Blinking open his eyes to the sight of Minho’s kitchen and living room, he found himself still lying on his side on that obscenely comfortable couch. Chan looked down when he felt something stirring against his chest.

There, curled up in the empty space between himself and the edge of the couch, was a small, sand colored fox with adorably oversized ears, stretching and yawning to show off two rows of tiny, but razor-sharp teeth. At the realization that Chan was looking at it, the little fox froze in the middle of its stretch, body stilling with a momentary quiver.

Fennec fox, shifter , his slowly awakening brain finally provided.

For several moments the two of them just looked at each other, the fox completely motionless, while his dragon pushed to the forefront of his consciousness for the first time since he’d woken up. Letting out a low rumble of greeting, Chan and his dragon watched the other shifter snapping out of its semi-petrified state, as it got to its feet and tentatively pushed up to touch its nose to Chan’s in return of the greeting.

The next moment it was jumping off the couch, crossing the room and flitting out the door leading into the shop. Chan only had time to push off the blanket someone had draped over him, swing his legs over and sit upright, before Minho was stepping into the room.

He wanted to blame the dizzy rush solely on the fact that he had just woken up from what felt like the deepest sleep he’d ever had, but wasn’t sure he bought any of that himself. With his senses no longer clouded, the force of Minho’s presence and magic felt like electricity and sparks against his skin. And yet something settled immediately inside of Chan at having him within his sights again. His dragon as well rolled over in an unusually intense show of happiness at the witch’s appearance.

“So you’re finally awake.” Minho didn’t look worried, not exactly, but the way he was looking over Chan was oddly intense. The shifter felt color flooding his cheeks and ears at the close scrutiny, but gratefully took the cup of water the witch handed him. “How are you feeling?”

Finishing the water in a few greedy gulps, Chan tried to find a word to describe the feeling of relief and contentment glowing inside his chest, the complete lack of exhaustion and hopelessness that had been dogging his every step for almost a year now, but found himself coming up frustratingly empty. So he settled for a simple, yet utterly insufficient, “rested.”

It seemed to be enough though, as the word had Minho’s shoulders relaxing and expression smoothing out into the usual half-smile. “I’d hope so. You’ve been asleep for more than two days.” Chan blinked through his shock at the revelation. “You barely moved. Jeongin was getting so anxious he barely left your side and you actually had me wondering if I somehow messed up with the potion and accidentally put you into some kind of coma. I was starting to consider smelling salts.”

“Wow,” Chan replied in astonishment, momentarily lost for words, his hand coming up to bashfully rub the back of his head. His fingers immediately got caught in his hopelessly tangled hair, but for some reason the thought of looking like a total mess in front of the beautiful witch didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have. “Guess I just had a lot of sleep to catch up on.”

Minho’s eyes went narrow and suspicious at that. “When exactly did you get cursed?”

“Uhm, about ten months ago?”

For several seconds, Minho just stared at Chan, before he directed his gaze towards the ceiling and let out a colorful stream of curses under his breath. Without another glance at the shifter, he turned towards the stove and gave the contents of the large pot a vigorous stir.

“I’m guessing you’ll want to go take a shower,” Minho eventually addressed Chan again, voice suspiciously bland and still focused on the meal he was preparing. Then he pointed towards the staircase next to a door at the back of the room. “Bathroom’s upstairs, the door on the left. Towels are in the cupboard next to the sink. Feel free to use whatever you want, but I’d recommend staying away from the bottles on the top shelf, unless you’re planning to dye your hair before lunch.”

Chan’s stomach made itself known quite audibly at the mention of lunch, but it was the realization that Minho didn’t expect him to just get going, now that Chan’s curse was broken, that his brain got caught on. As uncaring as Minho was obviously trying to appear, the offer of his shower and the implication that Chan was welcome to stay for lunch, sat warm and comfortable in the shifter’s chest. Which was why he grabbed his duffel that was still sitting next to the couch and went upstairs with a quiet thanks and a slow smile tugging at his lips.

🝓 🜚 🝰

Taking a scalding shower and changing into a set of clean clothes felt almost as world-changing as two days of uninterrupted sleep. And when Chan returned downstairs to find Minho and a young man with sand colored hair seated at the small kitchen table in front of steaming bowls, a third one waiting for Chan, he could have wept with gratitude and happiness. Instead of causing such an embarrassing scene though, he reminded himself to get a grip and crossed the room to take a seat opposite the two men.

The mouth-watering smell wafting up at him from his bowl of stew momentarily tested his resolve to suppress his tears, but the urge swiftly passed when he looked up from his meal to find Minho and the young man staring at him. It made Chan wonder if he had something on his face, even though he’d looked alright when he’d checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror before coming downstairs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You clean up nicely, that’s all. Almost didn’t recognize you without the grey pallor, the eyebags or that bird’s nest from before on your head. You’re hotter than I expected,” Minho replied, completely nonchalant, flustering Chan so badly, he choked on his next breath and just barely kept himself from hiding his face in his hands. It was ridiculous that Minho had to turn away and act busy while he did something nice for Chan, but could say something so outrageous without a blink of his eye. “And you can ignore Jeongin, he just never met a dragon before. He’s starstruck.”

The words earned him an outraged Hyung! from the young man Chan recognized as the shifter that had woken up on the couch with him and had Minho reaching out with a purposefully obnoxious coo to give Jeongin a scratch beneath his chin. It only had Jeogin bristling further, a sharp hiss leaving his lips, and Chan felt his dragon pressing against his skin in interest at the sight of them play. Because that was what they were doing. Despite the younger man’s loud protests and Minho’s relentless teasing, there was an undertone of fondness and familiarity to the interaction, a sense of playfulness beneath their contradictory appearance.

Barely a moment later Jeongin froze with his arm raised to bat Minho’s hand away, his widening eyes snapping towards Chan. Which in turn made the witch give him a curious glance as well. And that was when Chan realized that the other shifter could sense the proximity of the dragon.

He quickly scrambled to introduce himself properly, a hopeful attempt to dispel the sudden tension in the room. “Hello, Jeongin. My name is Chan, it’s nice to meet you. I heard you kept an eye on me while I was all but unconscious for the last two days.”

Even though the words were enough to unfreeze the young shifter, he should have probably rethought his approach, as it had the other man immediately diving down to tuck into his meal with an intense blush of his cheeks. Chan would have worried he’d made Jeongin feel genuinely uncomfortable, but Minho looked downright delighted at the sight of his flustered friend and the dragon shifter figured he wouldn’t have let him get away with a more serious offense. So he decided to give the young shifter a break and turned towards his own bowl of stew. Not a big challenge, as it was calling out to him like a siren’s call. He’d been hungry before he’d arrived at Minho’s shop and as he’d apparently been asleep for more than two days, it was no wonder he felt absolutely famished.

“Thank you for the meal, this smells divine.”

Minho didn’t react except for waving away the compliment and spooning up his own first bite, so Chan happily dove in. The hearty stew tasted like the best thing he’d ever had the pleasure of eating and he finished his first bowl in record time. Minho wordlessly refilled it, before Chan could even say a word. Jeongin finished his own bowl only a moment later and received the same treatment, before the witch wordlessly returned to spooning up his meal at a much more reasonable pace.

Now that the black hole that was the dragon shifter’s stomach had at least been temporarily pacified, a more pressing matter occurred to Chan. Wondering how to approach the topic, he figured simply blurting it out would probably be his best bet. All their interactions so far suggested that Minho was the kind of person that appreciated the direct approach. But before he could even attempt to bring it up, he suddenly sensed the proximity of unfamiliar magic. Chan had barely turned his head in the direction of the shop, before the sound of the shop door’s bell broke through the quiet of the kitchen.

“I got it!” Shovelling in the last few bites of his second serving, Jeongin practically flew out of his seat and a moment later he disappeared through the doorway out into the shop.

Chan blinked after him in bewilderment, while Minho seemed completely unfazed by the young shifter’s behavior.

“He’s just bad at showing his emotions. Chances are his fox immediately recognized your dragon as the alpha animal, but since he doesn’t really know you, he’s extra embarrassed about being caught staying with you and worrying about you that much. He’ll get over it soon,” the witch declared with a careless flick of his hand and shifted his attention back to his meal.

“I wonder where he learned that from.”

Looking back up sharply at Chan’s teasing comment, he scoffed at the grin on Chan’s face, but didn’t protest the implication.

“You probably don’t want me to talk about this any more than Jeongin wanted me to mention him watching over me, but I still need to thank you for breaking my curse. I was getting genuinely desperate. And I can’t believe you did it so easily.”

As Chan had expected, quickly shifting the statement away from his gratitude and making it about Minho’s skills had the witch immediately relaxing. He’d tensed up at the first sign of Chan’s sincerity, but seemed much more inclined to follow this line of conversation.

“As I said, I had a theory. We were just lucky it worked out that way and I didn’t have to attempt a more complex potion. That one would have taken much longer to prepare.”

“And what was that theory? I didn’t ask last time, because I was honestly too tired, but I’m curious now. How did you manage to get past my dragon’s magic? It took you what? An hour max to brew that potion? And I knocked out immediately and apparently didn’t move for sixty hours. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that.”

Minho considered him across the table, clearly realizing Chan wasn’t about to just let it go that easily. Sprawling back in his chair with the fluidity and ease of a cat, he gestured towards Chan’s untouched second bowl and raised one of his brows in a way that was starting to feel oddly familiar. “You eat and I’ll explain.”

Spooning up a demonstratively large amount, while never taking his eyes off the witch, he had the other man rolling his eyes with an impossibly dignified snort, but Chan was still chewing on the tender pieces of beef and potato when Minho started talking.

“I’m sure you know that spirit magic isn’t actually all that powerful, so a simple spell is usually enough to counter any of their curses. In your case your dragon’s magic was the bigger obstacle. You were obviously weakened by the prolonged exposure to the effects of the curse and it seems like your dragon was shielding you against any more attempts to magically influence you. The dragon clearly didn’t trust the warlock’s magic and that’s why he blocked his attempts to break the curse.”

As the explanation aligned with his own observations, Chan simply nodded to signal he was following along. Then the sound of his spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl had him looking down in surprise and realizing he’d finished his second portion without even noticing. As he’d done before, Minho served him another generous portion and then continued talking before Chan could thank him for it.

“Potions are more effective in that regard, because it’s technically not someone else using a spell on you, but you willingly swallowing it. And you and your dragon didn’t seem to react hostile or wary to my magic when you entered my shop. I figured the dragon’s magic would still be able to cancel out the potions effects, but it was worth a try. Brewing a potion to actively get past your dragon would have taken a lot more effort, creativity and luck. It would have been a nice challenge, but you honestly looked horrible, basically dead on your feet.”

As Chan had felt like death warmed over twice, he couldn’t find it in himself to protest the less than complimentary description. Instead he simply held Minho’s gaze. By now the witch had braced his elbows on the tabletop, intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on them as he regarded Chan across the wooden surface.

“Thank you.”

Chan’s genuine, unembellished words seemed to throw off Minho once again, but for once he didn’t pull back, didn’t even break eye contact between them. Instead he let a rare, unaffected smile show on his face, as the silence of the kitchen settled around them. It was only disturbed by Jeongin rustling around in the shop.

“You’re welcome.”

Several seconds of sincerity seemed to be his limit though, as Minho promptly cleared his throat and purposefully changed the topic. “Are you gonna have another bowl of that?”

Inclining his head towards the practically empty bowl in front of Chan - the shifter had no idea how that had happened again - he suddenly looked a mix between impressed and disbelieving.

“I will unless you stop me.” He felt the smile that was tugging at his lips as clearly as he felt the textured surface of the table beneath his fingertips.

“I see you dragons don’t do anything in moderation,” the witch mock complained with a huff of exasperation, yet watched attentively as Chan filled his bowl by himself this time. “Sleeping for sixty hours and then demolishing your own body weight in food. It’s a good thing I decided to make enough to feed a small army.”

The words sounded cutting, but didn’t feel like it, tone lacking any kind of maliciousness, and Chan tucked into his fourth bowl with his smile completely undisturbed. “What can I say? It was a ridiculously comfortable couch and you're an excellent cook.”

Minho’s eyes widened just the tiniest bit at his reply and even though the witch jumped out of his seat the next moment, collected Jeongin’s and his own bowl and quickly turned towards the kitchen counter to put them away, there was no denying the flush of color at the tips of Minho’s ears. “Make sure to finish the whole pot then.”

For some reason his fourth and fifth bowl were the most delicious ones of them all.

🝓 🜚 🝰

They were washing and drying the dishes together, Jeongin still busy with what seemed like a sudden stream of customers, when Chan finally brought up something that had occurred to him in the shower.

“We never talked about how much I owe you for the potion.” He waited until Minho looked up at him from where his hands were submerged in the sudsy water, before tagging on with a teasing grin, “and my body weight in stew, of course.”

The words earned him a mock glare from the witch, but there was no denying the initial, if fleeting flash of fond amusement. Right before his look turned obviously considering. He finished washing another bowl that he handed over to Chan to dry, before he eventually spoke up.

“It’s barely gonna cost you anything. As I said, it was a fairly simple potion.”

“You still let me sleep on your couch for two days, offered me your shower and then fed me an entire pot of stew.”

 “Then how do you feel about trading a favor for a favor?”

“Sure.”

To his surprise, Chan’s immediate and easy acceptance put a clearly displeased frown on Minho’s face. “At least wait to hear what the favor is before you agree. Some people in the magic community would already consider this a binding agreement and hold you to it.”

“That’s fine.”

“What if I ended up taking advantage of you?” Minho clearly couldn’t understand why Chan was so blase about the whole matter, dropping the ladle in his hands back into the water and turning towards the shifter with obvious heat rising to his eyes.

“Are you trying to?”

“No,” the witch hissed at him, clearly steamed, and even though it was a fairly intimidating sight, Chan mostly found himself captivated by the way exasperation had Minho’s eyes almost glowing and color rising to his cheeks. “But that’s not the point! Don’t be so damn trusting. You’re just asking to get screwed over like this. Some people will go to impossible lengths for a chance to control a dragon.”

It did something to his insides to realize the other man was getting pissed because he was worried about Chan. Sure, also because the shifter was acting like a careless idiot in his eyes, but there was no denying the warm glow in his chest. It had been a long time since someone had last worried about Chan and now he’d met not just one, but two people that actually gave a damn about him, despite only knowing him for such a short time.

“I’m well aware of that. Believe me, I’ve had people trying to take advantage of my dragon’s power before. But I’m in your debt and I trust you. My dragon trusts you. You’ll just have to deal with that.”

For a second Minho looked like he was going to argue again, but something in Chan’s face must have convinced him otherwise, as he deflated with a huff of surrender just a moment later. “You’re impossible to argue with.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He was skewered with a last exasperated glare, before Minho turned his attention back towards the remaining dirty dishes. The ladle had to endure a more forceful scrubbing than the dishes before, but other than that their little argument was quickly put behind them.

“There's this one guy, he's one of the traders I work with to get my hands on rarer potion ingredients. He took advantage of the fact that I was out for other business the last time he made a delivery and left Jeongin with ridiculously inferior merchandise. He went under right afterwards, but I think I’ve figured out what hole the little weasel crawled into and I’ve been meaning to go and make him regret ever stepping into my shop. I have a feeling a dragon showing up at his doorstep might be even more effective than that though. It sure sounds entertaining to me.”

The mere mention of a chance to scare some poor bastard out of his wits had his dragon stretching in excitement inside of him and his eyes flashed golden for a second.

Clearly reading the momentary change for what it was, Minho’s expression morphed into a downright devilish grin. “Seems like your dragon likes the idea.”

“You could say that.”

“What about you? Are you okay with the deal as well?”

“I do enjoy making people cry every once in a while,” Chan replied, his own smile matching the devious expression on Minho’s face. “It’s the least I can do in return for that stew.”

🝓 🜚 🝰

When Chan returned less than two hours later, Jeongin was still stationed behind the counter and a customer was just leaving with a basket full of jars and several bundles of herbs.

“That didn’t take long.”

“Let’s just say he didn’t need a lot of convincing,” Chan replied through a pleasant smile.

Jeongin’s mouth went momentarily slack, as if it had been about to fall open, and his eyes turned impossibly bright, before his expression took on a distinctively constipated look. Like he was doing his absolute best not to look too impressed. He was failing quite spectacularly, but Chan was in too good of a mood to call him out on it. His dragon as well had enjoyed their little excursion immensely, was mostly just eager to seek out Minho and report back to him about their mission.

“Minho-hyung is outside in the garden.”

The words gave Chan a pause. In a way because he felt uncomfortably seen through, but mostly because they didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Garden? What garden? The cottage was situated in the middle of Seoul, squeezed in between hulking skyscrapers. He hadn’t expected there to be enough space for a garden, leave alone enough sunlight for plants to grow and thrive.

He must have looked as taken aback as he felt, because Jeongin’s pinched expression turned into a quick grin almost instantly. “Just head out through the back door, you’ll see.”

He did just that, still feeling highly confused as he passed through the kitchen and living area, but as soon as his hand touched the knob of the back door, he knew. Stepping over the threshold and passing through that magic barrier raised all the tiny hairs on his body. Chan grinned at the ingenuity of it.

A portal spell.

The shifter was wondering what other surprises and secrets Minho’s magical cottage had in store, when he became aware of the place he had been transported to and all other thoughts simply fled his mind. His breath left him on a stunned exhale and his eyes went wide with wonder.

He was surrounded by lush green, sunlight flooding in through the vast amount of windows and the air held the scents of wet earth and growing things. Looking around, Chan drew in the clean, wet air and unglued his feet from where he’d frozen in surprise. He took his time walking down the aisle of the greenhouse, but the shifter didn’t know enough about plants to identify most of the things growing and clearly thriving in the raised beds around him. He at least recognized most of the common herbs and he drew in more pleased breaths as he passed them on his way forward. Chan was almost reluctant to leave, but Minho wasn’t here and the urge to see him, as well as his curiosity about the witch’s garden had Chan hesitantly moving on.

If Chan had thought the greenhouse had been astonishing, it was nothing compared to the sight that presented itself to him once he reached the end of the light-flooded building and stepped out into the open.

The word garden almost didn’t do it justice.

He’d known a witch’s magic was connected to nature, knew they were infamous for having a way with all living things. But the vibrancy and sheer aliveness of the stretch of land in front of him had Chan actually freezing in his step once again.

Minho’s garden looked wild, but cared for at the same time. Rough cobblestone paths snaked in between generous-sized patches of various herbs, vegetables, fruit trees and bushes, as well as other plants Chan was still too clueless to identify. The borders of the garden weren’t easily distinguishable, but one sweeping gaze was enough to tell Chan that Minho’s land was surrounded by nothing but more nature. The shifter let his gaze sweep over rolling, grassy hills, took in the woods and the glint of sunshine on water in the distance, even made out the blurred outlines of mountains even farther away. And felt a weight he’d been aware of after more than a week in Seoul, but determined to ignore lift off his shoulders.

For a while he just stood there and let himself drink in all that green, all that space and revelled in the clean, fresh air in his lungs. He wholly agreed with the rumble of contentment his dragon let out.

The temperature didn’t match Seoul’s harsh weather, but even though there was no snow, the leafless state of the foliage trees in the distance, made Chan think winter had this region in its grip as well and the milder temperature in Minho’s garden was simply due to another mysterious spell. Curious to find out if he was right, but mostly just wanting to find Minho, Chan set out deeper into the garden. It didn’t take long for him to discover the witch kneeling next to a small herb patch at the far end of the garden, hands buried in the dirt as he dug out what seemed to be an especially stubborn weed.

The shifter knew he moved silently, but Minho raised his head and met Chan’s gaze almost at the same time he noticed the witch’s whereabouts. He wasn’t entirely sure why that pleased him as much as it did, but the dragon too was stretching inside of him and giving off distinct waves of approval. Contrary to Jeongin, Minho didn’t look surprised to see Chan returning so soon. He actually thought the witch appeared quite satisfied and maybe even a little bit smug as he watched Chan approach.

“Judging by that dumb expression on your face and the overly glowy aura, I’m guessing it went well?”

Willfully ignoring the comment about his expression, Chan let himself sink down on his haunches right next to the witch. Maybe a bit closer than polite etiquette suggested, but his beast was urging him to get close, close, close and Chan couldn’t deny that deep down, the human part of him felt the same. Both parts of him contentedly made note of the fact that Minho didn’t bat an eyelash at the proximity. “It did, even though I feel like I have your garden to thank for the glowy aura. It’s amazing.”

Until now, Minho had mostly waved away or downright ignored any of Chan’s compliments, but the mention of his garden had Minho breaking out into a proud smile that was almost bright enough to blind. Chan certainly felt momentarily dazed by the sight, something Minho undoubtedly noticed, but gratefully didn’t comment on. When the witch spoke though, it wasn’t about his garden. “So did he cry?”

Chan didn’t bother holding back his grin. “I’m sad to report he didn’t. But there was hyperventilation and actual begging going on within the first three minutes, so I decided that was a nice compromise.”

“Hmmm, it’s a shame I wasn’t there. I bet that was fun to watch.” The expression on his face didn’t really change, but the wistful tone of his voice had human and dragon both huffing in amusement.

“It certainly didn’t suck.” Reaching into the pocket of his zipped hoodie, Chan pulled out a small vial filled with a shimmering kind of dust. In the sunlight, he could detect even more colors than he'd been able to in the murky confines of the potion seller’s hidey-hole. “He also gave me this. I have no idea what it is, but it’s giving off a really strong magical energy and I figured you could probably use it. I told him I’d come back if you weren’t satisfied, but he promised me there’d be no need for that.”

It was then and there that Chan realized he’d never seen Minho look truly shocked before. Because the way the witch was staring down at the small vial in Chan’s hand, lips popped open, eyes wide and body completely motionless, had the dragon pushing up against his skin again. His eyes shifted and his beast settled a little bit, but there was a distinct feeling of wanting to get closer and the need to drink in more of this new expression on Minho’s face. Chan didn’t do a lot to push it back, feeling much the same.

Finally the witch seemed to find his voice again. “He offered you this? Voluntarily?”

“I mean, I did tell him his well-being depended on him making it up to you. This is what he ended up giving me. He also asked me to relay his promise to never try something like that again. He didn’t smell like he was lying, but it was kinda hard to tell through all that panic.”

“Well, shit,” the witch breathed, clearly not over whatever Chan had brought with him, before he reached out for it with a hand that wasn’t entirely steady. Chan and the dragon were curious, but not curious enough to interrupt Minho while he held up the vial against the sunlight and let out a disbelieving laugh. The sparkle in his eyes rivaled the way the glass reflected the sun. “He gave you an entire vial of fairy dust. Do you know how hard it is to get your hands on this stuff?” Another astonished exhale. “The kind of potions we can make and sell thanks to this. You must be even scarier than I thought you’d be.”

Chan tried valiantly not to let the praise - or the we in that sentence - get to his head. He’d probably been talking about himself and Jeongin. But then Minho was wiping off the earth on his free hand against his jeans, uncaring of any stains, and Chan’s thoughts scattered as the witch raised it towards Chan’s head. The shifter stayed very quiet, barely even breathed, except for tilting his head towards him a bit. He was scared that any kind of reaction might make Minho change his mind. It had been so long since someone had last touched Chan with affection and he felt his entire being straining towards the gesture. But Minho didn’t stop and then the other man’s hand was in his hair, coming down twice in a row for two soft pats. “Good job.”

The words and touch impacted with the force of a body-check, his pulse escalating and ears growing hot. He felt his breath hitch, as Minho’s gaze connected with his again and it was at that moment that Chan almost lost control and shifted .

It became immediately clear to Chan that the dragon was done behaving. It wanted to be let out, be petted by Minho as well and finally meet the witch. It wanted to know it had done a good job, had brought back a satisfactory “gift”. Considering how long it had been since he’d last shifted and how fascinated human and beast both were by the witch in front of him, he couldn’t really blame it.

“Uhm… so how would you feel about meeting the dragon?”

Chan didn’t know why he’d actually worried. He should have known the question would barely give the witch a pause. Glancing up from where he’d been once again staring down reverently at the vial in his hand, Minho merely tilted his head to the side in obvious consideration. “I’ve been curious, I have to admit. Anything I should know before we introduce ourselves?”

“Well…,” Chan hedged, hand coming up automatically to rub the back of his head, as he thought over the inquiry. “Don’t be scared to call the dragon out on it if it gets too pushy. It would never harm you, it’s just not as concerned about boundaries as we are in our human form. Just remember, it’s still me, but also not entirely… it’s kind of hard to explain.”

Chan figured it was a good sign that Minho was actually smiling at his bumbling explanation and didn’t look particularly concerned about anything he’d just revealed to him. “That’s it?”

“I can’t think of anything else. The dragon really likes you already, so I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

A broadening of Minho’s smile. “Let’s see it then.”

Figuring there was no reason to wait any longer and make himself stress about it again, Chan moved back several feet and took a last steadying breath. And then he just let the dragon take over.

Shifting didn’t actually feel like much at all. Just letting himself fall back and having the other part of him take control. There was no pain, no cracking of bones or torturous stretching of his skin the way certain cheap movies made shifting out to be. One second he was in his human form and the next the dragon was slightly shaking itself to settle into its other skin.

The dragon was quite satisfied about leaving Minho temporarily speechless. Chan on the other hand was much more focused on the fact that despite the witch’s clear surprise as he tilted his head back to take in all of the dragon, his scent remained unchanged. Not a hint of fear mixing into the now so familiar blend of warm skin, freshly brewed tea and the bright citrus of his soap. Chan was relieved and impressed in equal measures. People often thought they could handle themselves in the presence of a dragon in his real form, but when actually faced with it, they quickly found out it wasn’t actually that easy. Even the birds in the trees around them had gone quiet, afraid to attract the attention of the predator in their midst.

Not that Chan blamed them for it. With a height easily double that of an average human, huge leathery wings, talon-like claws and a long, strong body covered in black scales, deadly spikes running down its spine, the dragon was quite the intimidating sight. Not to mention the razor-sharp teeth or the possibility of ending up burned to a crisp.

And even though Minho looked definitely awed by the sight of the dragon, he clearly wasn’t cowed. After the several seconds it took him to collect himself, he actually didn’t hesitate to step closer. Obviously watching out for any adverse reaction from the dragon, he quickly seemed to realize that none was going to come, when the dragon eagerly lowered its head towards him and gave him a soft bump with its scaled snout.

“You’re larger than I expected. And I don’t know why I automatically assumed you’d be gold like your eyes. The black certainly fits in with your normal wardrobe,” Minho remarked, almost conversationally, as he slowly raised his hand. Before he could even finish to reach out, the dragon was already moving into his touch and breathing out on a pleased rumble.

The affectionate, almost tame behavior gave the witch another momentary pause, which was quickly brushed aside in true Minho fashion. So for the next few minutes they just remained like that, Minho’s touches growing less careful and the dragon keeping up the rumbling sounds.

“If you want to take a nap, you can do that. I noticed before that human Chan was looking a bit tired again,” Minho eventually murmured quietly. And even though the dragon was currently distracted by the nice scratches he was getting from the witch, Chan wondered how the other man had been able to read him so easily again. He himself had been a little too focused on his mission to realize, but now that he’d had some time to settle down, he was indeed feeling the tiredness again. “As impressive as those two days of uninterrupted sleep were, I guess they weren’t quite enough to cancel out ten months of being awake.”

The dragon gave a little rumble of assent, but merely lowered himself a bit further so Minho could reach the top of its head. Pressing up into the witch’s touch it got Minho to give the base of its sharp horns a few scratches as well, before the man finally dropped his hand. 

“I’ll wake you when I’m done here. Now stop it with the puppy eyes and let me get back to work,” he said, but still gave the muzzle of the dragon a quick pat.

It made the dragon want to swish its tail, but Chan reminded it just in time that some of the fruit trees and bushes behind them might not survive the expression of happiness. It settled for a low huff that thoroughly ruffled Minho’s hair, quite satisfied with itself as it moved over until he could curl up entirely in the sun without squishing anything. The witch looked less than impressed, as it tried to finger comb his hair back into place, but also like it took a fair amount of effort not to smile.

“Should have known you’d be an oversized puppy in your dragon form as well.”

Neither dragon nor human took any offense at the words.

🝓 🜚 🝰

Chan was under strict orders to watch the pot of dinner bubbling away on the stove, while he gathered herbs into bundles for drying the way Jeongin had shown him. Minho and the other shifter were outside taking inventory and preparing to close the shop, when Chan became aware of the proximity of two other strong magical energies. A moment later the shop bell gave its usual merry tinkle. Judging by the way the newcomers greeted Minho and Jeongin they were clearly friends, but Chan still paused what he was doing and turned his attention fully to the conversation going on outside. (He couldn’t really help it. The dragon had decided Minho and Jeongin were theirs to protect now, and there was no arguing once the dragon had made its mind up about things like that. Not that he actually had an issue with that particular claim.)

“Word on the street has it that you hired another shifter, hyung,” one of the new voices spoke up and his dragon perked up in immediate interest. “A shifter that apparently scared Changmin so thoroughly, he’s been going around all day, recompensing everyone he thinks might have drawn the shorter stick during one of their deals.”

Chan felt his lips tugging up into a smirk, as the dragon growled in smug approval. But the sound of Minho’s voice had his attention immediately returning to the conversation going on in the shop.

“Please explain to me how it’s almost impossible to reach you when I could actually use your help, but somehow you already know about this?”

“I have my spies everywhere.”

That seemed to be enough for the second visitor to finally enter the conversation. “Hyunjin found out from Onda and obviously had to tell Changbin-hyung right away. You know they’re horrible gossips.”

Laughter from Jeongin, a snort from Minho and grumbled complaints from the louder of the two visitors, before he seemed to get over it. “So who’s the shifter?”

“You’re too nosy for your own good.”

As expected, Minho wasn’t about to reveal any details about Chan’s identity, not without his consent. Which once again lit a nice, warm glow in his chest, but the shifter also had to admit he was curious about the visitors. So making a split-second decision, he got up from the table and crossed over to the stove to give the contents of the large pot a quick sniff. Deciding it smelled done, Chan turned off the heat and then swiftly moved to the door leading out into the shop.

Minho and Jeongin were still standing behind the counter, which the shorter of the two visitors had draped himself over. He had black hair and a strong build that made him appear bigger than he actually was. The other man standing next to him was visibly taller, with lighter hair and a friendly face that made Chan feel immediately endeared to him. 

His arrival was met with a surprised, thick silence that lasted about three seconds, before Minho broke it with a deep sigh. “Changbin, Seungmin, this is Chan. Not that it’s any of your business, but he doesn’t actually work for me, he just returned a favor after I dealt with a pesky curse for him. Chan-hyung, these are Changbin and Seungmin,” he introduced the two other witches, pointing at them with almost indifferent flicks of his wrist. “As you can see they like to show up unannounced and are impossible to get rid of.”

“I resent that,” the shorter man complained noisily.

Minho barely spared him a glance. “Well, I resent your face. We all have our crosses to bear.”

Next to him, Jeongin didn’t bother hiding his amused snort, while Changbin bared his teeth at Minho in something that wasn’t quite a smile, not quite a grimace.

Seungmin on the other hand was still intently staring at Chan, but seemed to suddenly remember his manners and gave a bow that the shifter swiftly returned.

"Great!” Changbin clapped his hands after his own belated bow to Chan. “Now that everyone’s acquainted, what's for dinner?"

"What do you mean 'what's for dinner'? You're not staying," Minho rounded on his friend, the look in his eyes actually a little bit scary.

Changbin didn’t seem to feel threatened in the least. "But we haven't seen each other in ages!"

"It's literally been four days since you and Hyunjin last showed up to mooch off dinner."

"As I said, ages !"

“Don’t you have your boyfriend waiting for you at home?”

“Nope," Changbin declared with gusto and obnoxiously fluttered his lashes. "Hyunjin’s terrorizing town with Jisung tonight, so I’m all yours."

“Lucky me.” Minho deadpanned, sounding entirely unenthused, but resigned, before he turned towards Seungmin. “What’s your excuse?”

“I’m just here to visit Jeongin.”

He and the fox shifter high-fived across the counter and Chan gave up on holding back the laugh he'd been biting down on for the past minute. They were cute. All of them. The prickly witch, currently glaring at the lot of them, included. Minho grumbled about people eating him out of house and home, but Chan noticed that he served them all tea the moment they were seated at the table without having to ask for their preferences. Adding two cubes of sugar to Changbin’s cup, Jeongin’s received only one with the addition of a splash of milk, while Seungmin’s was left completely untouched. For Chan, Minho merely put a tall glass of water on the table and somehow he wasn’t surprised to realize the witch knew he preferred it over everything else.

While Minho figured out how to make dinner work for five people, Changbin and Seungmin were roped into helping Jeongin and Chan finish up with the herbs and they were done in no time.

Dinner, unsurprisingly, was as loud and rowdy as its prelude had suggested.

Changbin, it turned out, was a well of information and only too eager to share all the details of Minho's life with Chan. Over an insanely delicious curry and lamb chops that almost brought the shifter to tears, he happily narrated that time Minho and him had come up with the idea for the garden portal and almost blown themselves up, before they’d realized they would need a third witch to accomplish it. Which was where Seungmin had come in. Or the fact that Minho apparently stemmed from a line of incredibly powerful witches, but had left behind his coven for the much quieter life as the owner of this little shop.

Minho cut in with a grumbled "quiet, my ass" and the occasional sarcastic remark, reigning in Changbin when the younger man got a bit too passionate about his storytelling, but for the most part he simply allowed conversation to flow around him. Rather than being an especially active participant, he seemed perfectly content to watch the people at the table, refilling their cups and plates when he thought no one was paying attention or catching the fork Jeongin accidentally swiped off the table in his enthusiasm to talk about the time he'd first met his "Minho-hyung".

Seungmin as well, was more quiet than Changbin, even though that in itself didn’t say much. Chan found himself thoroughly scrutinized, as the frown lines on the younger man’s forehead grew deeper the longer dinner went on. The shifter didn’t take it personally. He knew Seungmin was most likely just trying to work out what exactly Chan was, too polite to outright ask him and getting increasingly more frustrated by his inability to figure it out by himself.

He eventually decided to take pity on the guy, telling them all about the day he’d gotten cursed and the story of how he’d eventually ended up in Minho’s shop. It seemed only fair after all the information he’d gotten out of them during dinner so far. The revelation of him being a dragon went over as smoothly as he’d expected. Seungmin choked on his tea, while Changbin outright dropped his knife and silence spread through the kitchen, once Seungmin managed to stop wheezing. They both just looked at him with wide eyes and open mouths, at least until they seemed to get over their shock. And all of a sudden the shifter found himself in the crossfire of their barrage of questions.

“What kind of dragon?”

“Can you fly?”

“Have you ever eaten someone?”

“Is breathing fire an actual thing?”

It was at that point that Jeongin dropped any kind of pretense at indifference and leaned in across the table, almost planting himself in his plate in his eagerness to follow the conversation. Minho pulled the dish out of the way just in time, but even he looked curious and angled himself towards the shifter.

The dragon felt quite smug about having all of their attention on them, even as it huffed in amusement at some of their questions, and Chan was perfectly content to answer them all.

It was almost fifteen minutes later when he found himself tripping over one of Seungmin’s questions for the first time. “What are you going to do now that Minho’s broken the curse? Are you planning on leaving Seoul soon?”

The words had Chan’s thoughts grinding to a screeching, abrupt halt. It was actually kind of amazing how blank his head went for a few seconds. For some unfathomable reason, the thought that, with the curse broken, he no longer had a clear goal in mind hadn’t even occurred to him. For the past ten months only one thing had mattered to him, but Minho had taken care of that, which meant he could finally move on with his life.

Jeongin and Minho as well had gone motionless in their seats at the question, both of their gazes on him and unmistakably intent, even though Chan had the feeling they were trying not to be too conspicuous about it. Minho was mildly more successful than Jeongin, who failed to hide his keen interest in Chan’s reaction and answer completely. But the shifter still caught the flash of emotion in his eyes, the sudden tension in his shoulder and the way his grip had tightened on the spoon in his hands.

He decided that unfiltered honesty was the way to go. “I honestly haven’t thought about it yet. Before I got cursed I was mostly just roaming around and after that not much else mattered, except for finding a way to break it. I’m not really sure what I’m going to do now, I’ve never been big on plans, to be honest.”

The answer seemed to be enough for Seungmin and Changbin, who swiftly moved on from the topic, but Chan could feel Minho’s and Jeongin’s gazes lingering, even as he forced his brain to focus on the witches’ next questions.

🝓 🜚 🝰

Realization came to Chan after Changbin and Seungmin had left and he was helping Minho clear away the dishes, while Jeongin closed down the shop.

He was stalling.

Of course it was a given that he should help Minho with the clean-up, after the witch had cooked them all dinner, but he was admittedly moving slower than necessary. He was most definitely being much too fastidious about placing the silverware on top of his stack of plates and dragging his feet as he turned towards the counter.

It hadn't really occurred to him until Seungmin had asked the question about his plans, but there was really no more reason for him to stay. At least none he could logically explain to Minho - or himself, for that matter.

Technically speaking they really only met three days ago - two of which Chan had spent asleep. There was no rational explanation for him to feel this attached to this place and its inhabitants already. And yet he did. Maybe he wasn’t able to explain it in a way that made sense, but Chan could barely remember the last time he’d felt this comfortable and welcome somewhere.

The bottom line was that he didn’t want to leave. But he also didn’t know how to bring that up to Minho without appearing shameless, or putting Minho in a position where he might feel bad about turning Chan down. He’d eventually get over being rejected, but he also knew having to even do that would make Minho feel bad. As callous as he was trying to appear, Chan knew the witch cared about the people around him. And there was just no way the shifter was going to make this hard on him.

Maybe he’d find a place close to the city, so he’d still be able to visit. He wouldn’t be able to live right in Seoul without feeling too claustrophobic, as he didn’t think portals like Minho’s right out into nature were a feature that came with a lot of homes, but there was nothing keeping him from at least staying in the area. He didn’t think Minho and Jeongin would mind that, thought they might even be happy about it.

Chan was just gearing himself up to carefully broach the topic, when the sound of Minho all but dropping his own load of dishes into the sink violently yanked Chan out of his turbulent thoughts. The shifter immediately swept the kitchen for a possible source of danger or something that could have startled the witch, but there was nothing. Nothing except for Minho himself whirling around to him with a captivatingly intent look in his eyes.

"You're welcome to stay, you know." 

It took him way too much time and effort to make sense of the words and by the time his racing thoughts caught up with him, Minho was already talking again. Clearly in an attempt to chase away the silence that had grown uncomfortable and thick in the wake of his offer.

“I know Seoul probably isn’t the most ideal space for a dragon, but that portal over there is ready whenever you need or want to get away.” Minho was very purposefully not meeting Chan's gaze, that much was glaringly obvious. Instead the witch was having an intense staring match with the living room wall over the shifter's shoulder. "And the second bedroom is technically meant for Jeongin when he feels like staying over, but he mostly just curls up in his fox form in front of the fireplace down here. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing it with you."

Neither of them had noticed the absent sounds of Jeongin's sweeping out in the shop, so both of them jumped slightly out of their skin when the fox shifter suddenly piped up with a tentative, "I really wouldn't mind, hyung."

More warmth spreading through his chest, even as Minho whirled towards the door looking utterly mortified. "Back to cleaning or I'm making you wash all of these dishes as well!"

It had the young shifter giving a startled squeak and only a moment later the sound of the broom sweeping over the floor, much more vigorously than before, drifted in through the door. "Aye aye!"

At this point even the skin disappearing under the witch's collar had taken on a distinctively red hue and Chan didn't even care that his ears and nape probably fared not the slightest bit better.

Clearing his throat, while still refusing to look at Chan, Minho actually had it in himself to continue. "Anyway, you don't have to decide now. Actually, you don't even have to consider it, if you already know it's not what you want to do. It’s just that you said you were mostly roaming around and don’t really have a home to return to, so I thought I'd offer. Let you know you’re welcome here.” Chan felt his throat going tight at the words, at the way the confession had Minho looking painfully vulnerable for the first time since he’d met him. At least until the witch caught himself and turned the entire thing on its head in true Minho fashion. “Having a dragon around could come in handy. There's no way anyone would ever try to scam me again, once word gets out. And you are quite useful when it comes to helping me with cooking prep and kitchen cleanup."

Chan had been so focused on Minho and his words, he didn’t even realize he was grinning until he felt the slight ache of it in his cheeks. Maybe Minho could sense it, maybe he just ran out of patience, but when the older man just continued to stand there in overwhelmed silence, the witch finally moved to meet his gaze.

The shifter really was trying to come up with something that wasn’t just holy shit, yes. It just so happened that his mind was completely and utterly blank. All he felt was the warm glow of elation at knowing he was welcome here, the happy rumbling of his dragon. But it seemed as if words weren’t actually needed, not in that moment, at least. As - slow and steady, like spring taking over from winter - an answering smile appeared on Minho’s face, starting with his eyes and then curving his lips. 

Tentative and vulnerable, but utterly breathtaking.

🝓 🜚 🝰

three months later

It was the feeling of Minho stirring beside him that woke Chan. Smothering a little groan of complaint against the other man’s shoulder, the shifter released him nevertheless, figuring he was just getting up for a quick trip to the bathroom. He received a pat on his hand for the trouble and watched out of bleary eyes as Minho swung his legs over the edge of the bed. 

Pushing himself up on one forearm, Chan tried to fight off the cobwebs of sleep and committed himself to staying awake until Minho returned. It would mean falling asleep with Minho in his arms twice in one night. A chance Chan couldn't give up on, despite the way his heavy eyelids wanted to droop. 

Unlike the shifter, Minho wasn't the most tactile person, even though he was a bit more generous with his touches with the dragon. But at night Minho let Chan cuddle and hold him as much as he wanted. He hadn't yet figured out if it was sleepiness that made Minho more amenable to touch, or if he simply needed the darkness to get over his need to feign aloofness. Whatever it was, Chan was going to make the most out of this golden opportunity. But then the slightest push from Minho had him tumbling back onto his soft, incredibly inviting pillow.

"Go back to sleep, dummy," Minho whispered, his fond tone and hand brushing through his hair almost coaxing him into doing exactly that. "I'm heading downstairs to open the shop."

It took his sleep-addled brain a few seconds to make sense of the words, but as soon as it did, Chan's eyes were flying back open and he was sitting up again. "Why are you opening the shop in the middle of the night?"

"Something tells me I should."

"Why?"

"Because," came the unsatisfactory, but very Minho reply.

Chan might have actually demanded more information, but Minho was reaching up to comb his unruly curls into something a bit more tame with a soft smile tugging on his lips. "Did you never wonder why the shop was open so late the day you first showed up here? It was almost midnight and we usually close around seven. But back then I also got the feeling I should open it again, right when I was about to head off to bed."

Chan blinked in surprise at the other man. He had indeed never thought about it before, but now that Minho mentioned it, he realized he probably should have. Taking in the form of his boyfriend in front of him, the unguarded way he was holding his gaze, he felt his chest growing warm with affection and gratefulness. It was impossible to keep himself from leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. This close, there was no missing Minho’s soft sigh or the subtle spike of his scent, the way it always did when the witch was feeling a bit more than he wanted to let on. “Thanks for not leaving me wandering around on my own and opening the shop again. I really appreciate it.”

Minho just rolled his eyes and gave Chan’s nose a light flick, but the shifter caught the smile on his lips as he got out of bed. “Of course you do.”

With a dramatic groan, Chan forced himself to follow his example. Minho didn’t comment on it, well acquainted with Chan’s and the dragon’s protective streak by now. So they got dressed in companionable silence, before heading downstairs. On their way to the stairs they came across an eighty percent asleep Jeongin sticking his head out of his recently reclaimed bedroom. “What’s going on?”

“Minho says he needs to open the shop. So you can go back to sleep, no need to worry,” Chan explained, running his hand through the young shifter’s messy hair. Simply because it was there and he looked all kinds of adorable, sleep-rumpled and squinting at them as they passed by his room.

“Okay,” came the sleepy reply and then Jeongin was disappearing back into his room and Chan followed Minho downstairs.

While Chan moved towards the door to unlock it and flip the ‘Open’ sign, Minho turned on the lights, so the shop was bathed in its usual, warm glow. And for several minutes nothing happened. If it were anyone other than Minho, Chan would have felt a lot more sceptical about the necessity of them being awake and down here at this hour. But the witch’s instincts and "hunches" had been intimidatingly on point since the first moment they met, so the shifter settled in to wait however long it was necessary.

He was close to dozing off against Minho’s shoulder again, when he finally felt the proximity of entirely unfamiliar magic. It hovered just beyond the door for almost two minutes, before it was eventually pushed open.

The man that shuffled in looked so overwhelmed and lost, Chan would have loved nothing more than to step forward and tell him he had nothing to be afraid of. But he was pretty sure even the slightest movement from him would have spooked the man into fleeing the shop immediately, so he remained firmly in place and tried to send out I’m harmless, nothing to fear here waves.

The man was about Chan’s height, but much thinner, with blond hair and freckles dusted across his nose and cheekbones. The dark circles underneath his big, haunted eyes were so pronounced they almost looked like bruises and the shifter felt his chest ache with sympathy. He’d been there.

“Welcome to the Yawning Cat Teashop , what can I help you with?” Minho asked, voice gentle in a way not a lot of people ever got to experience. It told Chan that the appearance of the spooked customer had woken the same kind of protective instincts inside of the witch.

The man’s voice, when he finally worked up the courage to reply, sounded rough from what might have been prolonged disuse. But it was the deepness of it that had Chan blinking in astonishment. Even his dragon finally stirred in interest for the first time since Chan had woken up. “I’m looking for something to help me sleep?”

Minho’s and his gaze connected for just a moment, before Minho turned back to the young customer with a soft smile and an even softer voice. “You’ve come to the right place.”