Don't think about it for sugaryandsalted
For: sugaryandsalted
Title: Don’t think about it
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Chen (very lightly hinted: Baekhyun/Kai)
Rating: PG
Length: 8.5k
Summary: It’s not often that Chanyeol meets someone who is immediately accepting of his practicing of witchcraft (no matter how mild it is), and this is not one of those times. Kim Jongdae does come around though, even if it is with the help of a little magic.
Author's note: Thank you so much to G for being an encouraging angel (read: angle), to A for proofreading this and being the feeder of my comedic (notso)genius, and finally to C for reading this and egging me on in the final stretch to do whatever the hell I wanted no matter whether it obeyed societal norms or not.
“Yah, it’s only the first of November and it’s already not going above ten degrees! Aish, winter is going to be harsh this year.”
Chanyeol generally zoned out a little when Baekhyun was ranting to him but talk of the weather was something he was actually interested in, none of that I’ve-been-hitting-on-him-for-the-last-three-months-and-he-hasn’t-even-noticed nonsense - like he’d ever really believed in all Baekhyun’s excuses about the heat being the reason Jongin had rebuffed his advances. “Really? I didn’t get a chance to look at the forecast this morning, I was too busy burning my sage.” Baekhyun squints up his eyes at the comment but then again, he always did that whenever Chanyeol spoke about witchcraft so he’d learnt to tune that out too.
His friend bumps into his side, hand sliding under his arm, unpleasantly cold hands making their way under his jumper sleeve, “It’s only four degrees right now ‘Yeol-ah.” he supplies as if the cool press of his fingers to Chanyeol’s warm arm hadn’t been enough for him to put the pieces together.
Yanking his arm back Chanyeol tucks his hand into the side front pocket of his jeans, “I would have been coping just fine not knowing that.” he grumbles, involuntarily shiver running up his spine and pout coming to a lips as he focuses his eyes on the staircase leading up to the canteen. At least he only needed to put up with this for a little bit more until they could get inside and get some warm food into their system.
The promise of food looms as they draw closer to the hall but so do Baekhyun’s fingers, snaking their way back under the jumper Chanyeol had pulled on before he’d even been outside. Not that he really needed it, his magic could serve him well enough but he’d learnt that wearing a jumper was the best way to avoid the weirded out looks he too often got in the cool weather. “The cold wind starts...” Chanyeol breaks off as Baekhyun shoots him a look but pulls his top lip up in defiance, knowing that Baekhyun couldn’t (and wouldn’t) be complaining once they both heat up. “...The cold wind blows, the colder it gets the hotter I grow.”
Heat started in Chanyeol’s fingertips as he brought them close to his mouth, blowing gently across his skin and waiting until the relief hit Baekhyun’s face and his nose went pink with the transferred heat. “I still think it’s weird when I come into your house and you’re burnin’ some kind of herb.” his nose crinkles as he says it and Chanyeol can tell the heat is washing itself over his toes.
“I was burning Arnica and it was one time. You came earlier than you were meant to.” he snaps back, focussing instead on the way his toes felt less numb than they had been moments earlier. “I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any storms or anything while we were out.” his voice sounds a little whiney but it hurt a little for his intentions to go to the wayside when he’d really been doing it so his friend could enjoy the rare down-time he got, what with how demanding his internship could be.
Baekhyun’s head rests on his upper arm, hands still under his jumper but since he’d cast the spell there was no difference in their temperatures and Chanyeol was able to abide the soft touches. “And I appreciate that ‘Yeol, just catches me off guard from time to time you know?” And of course he did know, it’s not like Chanyeol runs into many fellow witches (wizards? He wasn’t sure what the right term was, then again, he didn’t care enough to spend time researching) himself so he can understand how it’d be weird to have your best friend be one. He should be happy that Baekhyun even still wants to be his friend with the way some people will look at him when he casts spells in public.
He flops his head to the side, stopping short when he realises that Baekhyun’s just too short for their heads to rest against one another and speaks, “Well if somethin’ is able to catch you off guard after this many years I’d hate to see what your reaction is when something you’ve never seen before surprises you.” It’s a tease and he ribs Baekhyun’s side as he speaks enough to let his friend know that there’s no malice behind his words; even if it’d be hard to read it that way anyway.
Chanyeol’s feet hit the steps before Baekhyun and his friend lets out a sound of protest as he jolts him up the stairs and forces him to pick up the pace. “You’ve seen my reaction and don’t think I didn’t hear you muttering protection charms right after.” Baekhyun whines, fingers gripping tighter to Chanyeol’s wrist just to make sure he didn’t run off, which Chanyeol would protest where it not for the fact that he had to acknowledge warm (and free) food was a constant temptation for him.
“I wouldn’t have had to mutter protection charms if you didn’t sound like you were possessed.” Chanyeol counters, pulling his arm and consequently, Baekhyun forwards, patience for warm food wearing thin, even if he couldn’t feel the persistent cool wind.
There’s a haughty huff behind him before an offended looking Baekhyun appears by his side, hand miraculously still in place, even if his hair was a little ruffled. “Listen now!”
He draws to a stop, ”I’m listening.”
Baekhyun’s face crinkles the same way it had when he’d seen him burning the Arcania, like he was trying to figure out a maths problem that was way too difficult. “I didn’t think that I would get this far.” Chanyeol snorts. “BUT LISTEN! He was really hot okay? I was caught off guard.”
Almost as if realising the ridiculousness of what he was saying, Baekhyun dissolves into laughter and Chanyeol is left to pull him inside the hall, fending off soured looks of seniors startled from their early morning stupors by a few well placed snorts. “Are you sure you’re not some sort of incubus? Such that your true form comes out when you see an incredibly attractive man?” Chanyeol asks as he steers towards the left side of the line that lead towards the breakfast line.
Clarity takes over Baekhyun’s face as if he’s just figuring out the answer to the maths question he’d been puzzling over, though it doesn’t last long since just as Chanyeol picks up their cutlery the puzzled face comes back again. “Can incubi be gay? Or at least attracted to the men?”
The look pressed to Baekhyun’s face is mirrored on Chanyeol’s as he taps his spoon against the side of the bowl he’d picked up, “No.” he starts, nodding once before looking over to his friend, “I think the lore is too binary to accommodate a same-sex attracted incubus - with nothing to be said for non-binary incubi.” he nods sagely before regretting it when his bowl is filled with bacon.
“I didn’t-” he’s silenced by a particularly stern look from the lady who’d apparently been roped into serving at this ungodly hour of, he checks his watch, seven thirty nine am. Passing up the opportunity to argue with the woman about why-the-hell-would-I-want-my-bacon-in-a-bowl, however interesting that particular argument would be, he shuffled along, pulling along Baekhyun to save him from the same Bacon In A Bowl fate. Friendship at its finest.
There’s another body at his side, his right, not his left and it’s just too short to be Baekhyun. “Are you gonna eat that?” The voice definitely isn’t Baekhyun’s and Chanyeol is surprised anyone had approached him. Barely anyone on campus had spoken to him since the incident where he managed to freeze an entire lake just so he could fish out his football.
The cereal is on the other side of the stranger’s body and even if he did have the ability to teleport, it would probably be an odd spectacle at, he checks his watch, seven forty one am. “I don’t think I am, y’know since I didn’t ask for it.” he says, shuffling a little closer in the hopes that the stranger would pick up the hint and move out of his way. He didn’t.
“That’s what I thought.” And before he has time to protest, to point out that stealing someone’s bacon right off their plate is rude, his bacon is being exactly that; stolen right off his plate. “Thank you, this way I don’t have to wait in line.”
Chanyeol feels a beat pass and the body is still there, eyes glued to his jawline. “Are you waitin’ for me to say something else?” he asks, still, amazingly, managing to not look at the man beside him. The only reason he was able to tell that it was actually a man was because of his voice, even if it was a terribly binary assumption of him. “I said I didn’t really want the bacon.” he pointed out, vaguely gesturing his hand at the plate his bacon had been shifted to.
Laughter huffs into the air beside him and there’s a moment where Chanyeol feels like he’s missing out on something that he shouldn’t be, “Usually people get pissy, that I took their food.” he obviously sees Chanyeol open his mouth to insist that he didn’t want the bloody bacon and cuts him off before he even begins, “even if they didn’t want it.”
Seems weird of someone, to care so much that they’d invest their time and energy into a couple of pieces of bacon when they didn’t even want it. Chanyeol opens his mouth to say just that and turns his head to face the man who was still very much beside him and not letting him get to the cereal, much to Baekhyun’s (tiny) protest. “I don’t think I’d care if you took everything I did want. Which is a big bowl of those chocolate banana Chex over there.” is what comes out instead as he points above the man’s head, surprising himself with how small he really was. Even if he’d known he was shorter than Baekhyun the voice was enough that it felt like he was towering over Chanyeol.
It’s an Odd Thing to say, Chanyeol realises once the man’s eyebrows pull together with a surprising level of expressiveness, almost meeting to create some sort of Super Monobrow of Surprise. “Kim Jongdae.” there’s no context which Chanyeol goes to point out but he’s cut off again with a small laugh and even a little blush, “Usually boys want to know my name before they declare they’d let me take all their earthly possessions.”
Which seems like a fair statement, even if Chanyeol hadn’t said that he’d take all his earthly possessions, just his chocolate banana Chex from over there but he had to admit that it came pretty close. “Park Chanyeol.” he says, voice softer this time, the knowledge of the other man’s name hanging heavy on his own reply.
He nods, and curls his lips at the outside enough that Chanyeol has to wonder if they’d been like that before or if he’d just encountered a therianthrope, “Well Park Chanyeol, thank you for the bacon. I’ll be on my way.” Jongdae’s lips turn upwards even more at the corners and the thought of a therianthrope returns to the back of Chanyeol’s momentarily blank mind.
Asking about it actually seems like a good enough idea, if Jongdae was one then at least he could add another person to the list of ones who wouldn’t entirely hate him given his penchant for use of magic. “Wait a second, I’ll heat up m- I mean, your bacon first.” he says instead, tips of his ears colouring a little at the way Jongdae looks back at him over his shoulder. He’d have to ask him about the transforming into a cat thing later, if he couldn’t gather evidence on the contrary in the meantime.
Curiosity flickers across the boy’s face and for a heartbeat Chanyeol feels like he’s forgotten the actual spell, “I don’t think the breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever other time you feel like eating, ladies would be pleased to hear you imply they serve lukewarm food.” Jongdae intones, amusement flickering along those lips - oh those lips.
“Oh but we do.” A voice that doesn’t belong to Baekhyun comes from some weird mix of left and behind him, enough that he’d consider it diagonal and it definitely was one of the breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever other time you feel like eating, ladies.
Those eyebrows pinch together again, that same amusement from before taking root in the line stitched between the two. “Well then, I’d love it if you could heat up the bacon that was yours until I stole it.” He holds out his plate and just like before he feels the words fall from his brain and Chanyeol is forced to draw his attention away from the gentle slope of Jongdae’s eyebrows and back to the bacon.
His hand hovers above the plate for a hot second and he can see in Jongdae’s eyes that he expects him to take it to the microwave on the other side of the canteen. Had it been anyone else, Chanyeol would probably ask him why the hell it would be regular for him to have people practically wait on him hand and food but this was apparently Kim Jongdae and even if it wasn’t normal for the to happen to him, Chanyeol had to wonder why it wasn’t. “Warm the ice.” he whispers, eyes flicking to Jongdae briefly before his fingertips touched the side of the porcelain, a shock of heat running just under the surface of the platter at the contact. The bacon starts sizzling and popping just as he pulls his fingers away, a warm blush running under his cheeks as he looks up to assess Jongdae’s reaction.
It’s not abject horror, though nor is it ecstatic acceptance, rather a vague disinterest in what he’d just done. “You’ll have to tell me how you do your little tricks next time Mr Park.” Of all the replies Chanyeol had been expecting, that hadn’t been one of them and by the time he’s opened his mouth to bite out his reply that this is Real Magic thank you very much, Jongdae is already gone.
Baekhyun elbows him and he stumbles into the space previously occupied by his current antagonist, “Move your ass Park, I wanna get my breakfast sausages.” Usually Chanyeol would say something back about Baekhyun perhaps enjoying sausages more than any one person should, but his words have been stolen by the casual underestimation of his magic.
Next time he’d show Jongdae, just how fantastic subtle magic was.
-
May Kim Jongdae have nothing but ease and happiness
Chanyeol etched out the hanja carefully, making sure strokes didn’t cross over in the wrong places and being especially wary with the characters for Jongdae’s name. Not that he didn’t mind the luck going to someone else, in fact that would be a happy accident, but it was preferable that The Kim Jongdae was the one to be on the receiving end of his work.
Slowly he raised the sheet of paper up to the light, allowing the sun to shine through the flimsy rice paper, hoping against hope that the wind wasn’t strong enough to tear it. Not that he wouldn’t be happy to redraw his calligraphy, he’d practiced that at least twenty times in the safety of his dorm room, the damned rice paper was just too expensive for him to be spending frivolous amounts of money on it. He was just a regular college student after all, even if he was a witch he was a witch on a budget.
Patting the ground he searched from the sprig of thyme he’d set down by his knees once he’d started the ritual. Baekhyun had offered to be here this afternoon but he’d heard tell of Jongin doing a street performance two blocks away and had bidden Chanyeol a goodbye with a good luck pat to his back. It was appreciated, especially with the light breeze blowing, ruffling his hair and threatening the hard work he’d been at for the last twenty minutes.
“Whatcha doin’ there?” If he had the ability to swivel his head 270 degrees Chanyeol would have seen Jongdae’s head pop over his but as it was he had to deal with watching his shadow look like he’d suddenly grown another head on his right shoulder.
If he’d been writing in hanguel he probably would have been a little more worried but as it was the good luck charm called upon him to use hanja and he was pretty confident Jongdae wouldn’t be able to read it. The only reason he was even semi-competent was because of his incredibly stubborn father and his grandmother’s odd obsession with her family being able to read Chinese characters, no matter how useless the ability was rapidly becoming in a country that was steadily disregarding its Sino language influences. “I’m practicing my hanja.” he offers, pull the thyme from where it’s rolled under his knee.
Jongdae’s weight settles on his back in a sensation that isn’t entirely unwelcome, “I gathered. Just wonderin’ why you’ve got ‘May Kim Jongdae have nothing but ease and happiness’ written on some pretty expensive lookin’ rice paper.” Chanyeol starts at the casual tone that Jongdae reads it out in. There’s no lagging in his intonation, enough that it’s obvious he’s as good as, if not better than, Chanyeol with hanja. It’s a struggle in his mind between being attracted and embarrassed. “I mean, I appreciate the thought but it’s a little odd for you to be writin’ something like that out for me since we only met once and that involved me taking food off your plate.” He decides on embarrassed.
Pouting his lips, Chanyeol considers his options, now that Jongdae knew what had actually been written there wasn’t many, but he could always say someone had asked him to create this for them, that he was just a witch for hire on this occasion. It was a weak excuse but given how attractive Jongdae was there was always the possibility that someone would hire him for something like this. Nothing like expressing your attraction for someone like paying a witch to ensure that person didn’t suffer hardship for the length of the spell’s effect. Which didn’t mean Chanyeol was attracted attracted to Jongdae, it was just that he thought Jongdae was a nice guy that didn’t deserve to go through shit, even if he did have odd habits of ambushing people in hopes of getting their spare bacon.
On a side note: how often did people have spare bacon? Chanyeol felt someone needed to answer this for him.
“It is a little odd.” he agrees, pulling his lighter from his back pocket, ignoring the way the back of his hand bumps into Jongdae’s shin and the incoming thoughts of wondering exactly how tiny Jongdae needed to be for his shins to be knocking against his hands reaching into his back pockets. “But I mean it’s perfectly usual Saturday afternoon fare.” he remarks, trying a couple of times to start a good flame, cursing himself out for not picking up a new lighter and hoping his three month old one would be good enough.
Normal people didn’t go through a lighter every three months, not even heavy smokers, Chanyeol reminds himself. He’d maybe need to cut back on the sage burning but then again maybe Baekhyun should cut back on bringing strangers into the house who reeked of alcohol and a few wrong decisions - Baekhyun being one of them. Still, their house was safe and pure, reeking of sage but safe and pure. Chanyeol wasn’t about to have his spaced messed with by some outsider’s vibes. “Am I gonna get an explanation beyond that?” Jongdae slides round to the side and Chanyeol feels his arm drop as the sudden weight of a Human Body settles on it instead of his back.
He considers, tilting his head, still avoiding Jongdae’s gaze as he tosses his lighter over to his other hand. “Depends on what kind of answer you want. If I give you an untruthful one the ritual won’t work since it needs a pure aura to perform it, if I give you a truthful one, the ritual will work but you might be a little, maybe a lot, weirded out.” he explains, shutting his eyes as he wills the tiny flame to pop to life almost in his palm. Unfortunately his ability wasn’t that far advanced yet and he tilted the lighter to light up the thyme he’d swapped to his other hand - the one attached to the arm Jongdae was weighing down considerably.
The weight shifts a little and for a moment Chanyeol thinks that Jongdae has moved but as it returns he realises that he was just rearranging his position to be more comfortable. “Being weirded out doesn’t sound all that great but then again, I’m also quite interested in the ease and happiness so...truthful answer it is.” A finger pokes to the side of Chanyeol’s face to where he realises his dimple would have been showing since the finality in Jongdae’s voice had prompted a smile to pop up on his face.
Wrangling his smile is harder than it probably should be and Chanyeol gives himself a single moment to breathe in and out enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s making light of the situation. Magic should be taken as seriously as any other craft should be - his mother had always said it should be comparable to sword-crafting but that seemed a little overtop; maybe some kind of final art project worth 80% of one’s grade. Sword-crafting was reserved for the more serious stuff, like when he was forming literal swords from fire, luckily though, that wasn’t needed too often; if ever. “It’s because I do this for everyone I like.”
“Like?”
Chanyeol briefly considers saying something like of course that’s what you’d pick out but if he’s being honest, he probably would have picked up that tid-bit too. “I mean like...just people who I think deserve it. I did one for my journalism professor in first year too. Mum yelled at me for like three days afterwards too since she didn’t think my magic was ready.” he explains, waving the sage a little in the air for the wind to help it burn with a little more vigour.
There’s a snort beside his ear and when Jongdae speaks Chanyeol can almost feel his breathing against his cheek, “You studied journalism?” As well as feeling his breathing the laughter of his companion echoes up his arm, taking root in his chest and warming him inside out like magic never quite could. Chanyeol’s surprised he can even feel it given the heating charm he’d cast on himself before leaving the house this morning.
Flame picks up in the wind, burning through the sage with an eagerness Chanyeol hadn’t seen since the time two men had walked out of Baekhyun’s bedroom the morning after and he’d been too scared to ask what had happened (as if he didn’t already know). “Yeah, before I dropped it to focus on music.” he says, licking his lips after he glances over to catch Jongdae’s eyes for the first time this interaction. There’s crinkles at the edges of them and those brows are knitted together just the same as they had been when Jongdae had mentioned people didn’t usually like him taking their bacon - it’s endearing that he’s so predictable.
A sniffle, possibly because of the smoke, maybe even the cold; “Music.” Jongdae’s voice is dry and he gives a little hiccough that Chanyeol chooses to ignore, instead drawing the sage over to the rolled up scroll of rice paper, breathing in the scent as it caught alight, smudging sage mixing with the positive energy of the pressed rice. “I didn’t know you were into music. I’ve never seen you at any of the dance performances on campus.” Jongdae says, voice turning rough with the burn of the smoke.
Chanyeol switches the hand he’s holding the smudging stick in and the rice paper, hoping to shift the worst of the smoke away from Jongdae, even if there was only so much he could do with Jongdae practically attaching himself to his person. “I don’t perform the music, I just write it, lyrics, composing. All that kind of stuff. I mean; I can perform in a pinch but I’m kind of embarrassed of my singing voice.” he explains, blush creeping up his neck as he casts another look at Jongdae, catching a glance of those eye crinkles from before.
It’s clear that Jongdae’s about to reply when he coughs, unable to catch himself before there’s a few flecks of spit on the side of Chanyeol’s face. “Ah, sorry Chanyeol-ah.” He blinks, they blink, staring at each other as Jongdae realises his slip up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t sure if we were the same age. I mean we’re in the same year but y’know…” he trails off and a colour that should have been on Chanyeol’s cheeks appears on his.
Imagining a small ball of wind in his palm, Chanyeol allows it to grow for a brief moment, gathering strength from the weight and heat of the body pressed to his side before he releases it, whispering in soft intonation, “Leave this place.” before he lets the energy go. The smoke dissipated with an unnatural haste, clearing the air enough that his vision is clear when he looks back to Jongdae. “We both started university in the same year and we’ve both served our military service. Even if I hadn’t asked Baekhyun to find out how old you were for me, I’d be pretty confident that we’re the same age.” he reassures him, even offering up a small nod of his head before he turns back to the curling rice paper.
There’s a hum of agreement that Chanyeol feels reverberate from Jongdae’s chest and up his arm before there’s another poke to his dimple, amusement at their ageist predicament having sparked it this time. “I think I’d like your singing voice, it’d be all soft and husky. Kinda like how you sounded on Wednesday because you’d just woken up.” When he turns to open his mouth and tell Jongdae about just how wrong he probably was, he realised he was right; at least according to what Baekhyun had said the last time he’d caught Chanyeol singing in the shower.
“I hadn’t just woken up.” he complains, though it doesn’t bear much weight given the smile seemingly permanently pressed onto his features when he was around Jongdae.
Okay maybe he was a little attracted to Jongdae like the kind of people who would pay him to cast a good luck spell for their crushes. “Sure thing Mr I-wake-up-two-minutes-before-leaving-the-house. It was endearing, as endearing as someone can be when they’re giving me their bacon.” Chanyeol narrows his eyes before Jongdae rolls his and nods in acknowledgement, “...okay so someone can be very endearing when giving me their bacon. It’s one of the most endearing things someone can do.” He pokes Chanyeol’s dimple again and a voice in the back of his voice wonders if this is going to be something that they do on a regular basis but he brushes it off before he lets his hopes get the best of him.
Pulling his face as straight as possible Chanyeol drew his attention to the last corner of the burning paper. “Fill him with luck and take away doubt.” his voice dips deep and low as he feels Jongdae press closer to his side, almost as if he was looking to hear him better; as if their close proximity didn’t mean Jongdae would have been able to hear him even if he’d been on the edge of losing his voice and whispering. “Give him riches.”
“Give me riches.” Jongdae’s voice is soft against Chanyeol’s ear, but it’s there and it’s almost enough to startle Chanyeol from his focus, to distract him from the tenuous grasp he had on the rice paper and the spell.
“Please grant all of his wishes.” he finishes and feels more than hears Jongdae’s repetition of the words as the final corner curls in on itself and dissolves into the ashes it was destined to be. The final puff of ash into the air is smoky and for a second he worries about Jongdae’s breathing but it seems even enough as the man’s arms wrap around his arm and his head settles on Chanyeol’s shoulder.
They stay that way in the silence, watching the smoke curl into nothing in the beats between their breaths, Chanyeol turning over the implications of Jongdae’s hold on him in his mind and well, he had no clue what Jongdae was thinking about. “Seems like a big ritual for something that isn’t real.” And just like that the illusion shatters and Chanyeol feels his shoulders shrink in on themselves. Of course Jongdae didn’t take him seriously, people never did, and he knows it’s his fault for allowing himself to believe that maybe, just for a second, he’d found someone who enjoyed the warmth magic could breathe into one’s soul.
Drawing his bottom lip through his teeth, Chanyeol pulls his eyebrows together as he turns to look at Jongdae, the distance between them not fazing him like it probably would have two seconds ago as he leveled the other with an accusing gaze. “Doesn’t work?” he means to ask more but his voice falls away and he’s left to watch as Jongdae draws away from him, both figuratively and literally.
Jongdae makes some sort of vague gesture to the hand that had held the rice paper not two minutes ago before letting out a loud sigh, “Do you really believe in this kind of thing?” it stings probably more than it should to hear him say something like that and Chanyeol’s eyes snap accusatory to Jongdae’s wrist, zeroing in on the rosary bracelet that had been pressing into his arm for the last five minutes.
“You seem to have no issues believin’ in something that has nothing proving that it actually works. Unlike magic.” his words are harsh, he knows, belief isn’t all about proof and he knows that but there’s just something about Jongdae’s words that hit him where it really hurts. In his trust.
Arms unwind themselves and Chanyeol feels a heat he didn’t really need distancing itself from his side, allowing the cool of the afternoon to hit him with a shock he’d not been expecting. “I see how it is.” Jongdae’s voice is almost as icy as the breeze brushing up against them, carrying the cool and harsh reality of the plunging lake just a few metres away.
Chanyeol slips his lighter back into his back pocket, purposefully not noticing (and in the process noticing) the missing brush of Jongdae’s shins against his knuckles as he tucks the angled metal away. “Yeah.” he manages before pulling his lips into a tight smile, smoothing his fingertips over the outline in the denim. “Sorry.” it tastes bitter in his mouth, especially when Jongdae returns his smile, eye crinkles missing but he doesn’t regret a word.
Because magic did work, and it would work for Jongdae; he just had to wait and find out.
-
Music blasts in his ears, a refuge from the silence of the library. His good luck charm crinkles against his chest, a reminder of the wishes he’d set out for himself this morning. He would have a good day and his day would be good. Chanyeol couldn’t control what he’d said days ago, well, not anymore, but he could control the way his day would go today. And that was well.
Until he pulled that theology textbook off the shelf, a choice totally not motivated by the burning sadness he’d seen in Jongdae’s eyes on Saturday. “Hello.” Chanyeol’s eyes slip shut, drawing away from the allure of the face on the other side of the bookcase, mind instead focussing on the weight of the book in his hand. “Fancy seeing you here.” Jongdae’s voice is tight at the edges, probably because he hadn’t been planning on seeing Chanyeol here, which was fair enough because Chanyeol hadn’t been planning on seeing Jongdae here. He pauses his music.
Tilting his head back to the heavens, Chanyeol didn’t know what he was looking for, maybe that flare in the pit of his stomach, something his mother had always told him would come if he focussed his need just enough. “I’m not praying right now.” he pointed out, cracking open one eye and pulling his lips downwards as he tried to spot Jongdae in the cracks between the books.
There’s a splutter of laughter and those eye crinkles are back, just as crinkly as they were before and the little upticks at the corner of Jongdae’s mouth are back too, and were it not for their conversation on Saturday, Chanyeol would have thought he really was a cat familiar in disguise. “I didn’t think you were Park, thought you might be doin’ something magicky.” he says, voice laced with amusement that felt just a touch out of place but not enough that Chanyeol was going to call it out. Sometimes misplaced amusement could be one of the most magical things in the universe.
Curling his hands inwards, balling his hands to a fist and then relaxing them again, he finally allowed his eyes to slip open again. “Usually I warn people before doin’ something ‘magicky’.” he mimics the way Jongdae had spoken, tacking the cute syllable onto the end with a teasing glint in his eyes. They’re still standing there, bookshelf separating them and given the ease it should have taken him to just step around it, but Chanyeol didn’t want to and he got the feeling Jongdae didn’t either. There was something about the safety of the shadow that both of them found comforting. “Means it’s less likely people are gonna witch hunt me y’know?” he says, weak smile edging across his features, humour feeling fake given his thinly veiled veneer of pain.
Jongdae makes a show of pulling a book of the shelf beside his head, dipping his nose into the book almost close enough to smell it before he speaks again. “Do you get witch hunted often?” it’s a question Chanyeol hadn’t been expecting him to ask. Usually Jongdae liked to latch on to the odder choice between two pieces of information, then again he supposed there was a time and place for being normal.
Blinking back memories he, and his family, would rather not remember Chanyeol huffs out a laugh that he cuts off with his hand clapping over his mouth. He waits a beat, making sure the nervousness won’t come back in a way that’ll get him kicked out of the library, and drops his hand. “More often than most people would like, why do you think I don’t live at home? I live in Seoul you know, my family does I mean…” he trails off, remembering the way his neighbours had looked at him as he’d stacked his moving boxes in his father’s delivery truck. They’d been…relieved. Apparently having his mum do magic was already pushing it but him, a teenage boy? They didn’t trust him.
Chanyeol could kind of understand, he’d seen the way his classmates had loved to run amok in the neighbourhoods on the days they didn’t have class, knew how they’d always wanted to pull him into the troublemaking - even after he’d protested. “That sucks.” Jongdae’s voice is soft, and there’s a bit of inevitability in the edges, fraying out his voice enough that it feels like it’s touching the knuckles Chanyeol had curled against the cool metal of the shelves. “I don’t think I’ve ever been witch hunted. I mean, I live in Seoul because it’d take me ages to get from home to the university. Silheung kid problems.” He makes a hashtag in the air and gives Chanyeol a smile that feels even more out of place than his laughter had, it’s nice though, to feel like it’s okay to laugh, to smile.
Smiling back he ticks up the left side of his smile, dimpling his cheek. “Y’know I’d been wondering where your accent was from.” he points out, blush rushing up in his cheeks as Jongdae reached through the gap in the books and poked his dimple.
“Could’ve just asked if you were really curious y’know.” his voice is teasing, lighter than it had been a minute ago and Chanyeol is thankful for the sanctuary away from the serious conversation. “I happen to like talking about myself.”
He narrows his eyes, reflecting on what Baekhyun had reported to him on Friday night after a self-appointed expedition to find out more about the Kim Jongdae who had ‘captured Chanyeol’s heart over some bacon’. Correcting Baekhyun had gotten lost in the haze of information he’d offered up about the man, who, even if he hadn’t captured Chanyeol’s heart, he was curious about. “That’s not what I’ve heard.” Chanyeol points out, noting internally that Jongdae doesn’t move his hand when Chanyeol tilts his head into it.
Fingers pinch his cheek, but don’t move away as Chanyeol fixes Jongdae with a heated glare, “Maybe I’d just like to talk about myself with you.” Jongdae counters, thumb rubbing over the sting of his pinch, delight dancing in his eyes. “I do hear that’s what the kids are doing these days.” he adds on to the end, curling his lips up at the corners a little more, clearly taking stock in the intrigue Chanyeol could feel prickling up and along his spine.
Their eyes meet for a moment and everything drops away for a moment, “Yeah, I hear it is.” it’s a dumb response and Chanyeol knows it but it’s the only thing that comes to his mind as he feels the heat seep from Jongdae’s fingers and into his face.
He watches as Jongdae’s eyes go to crescents and he’s forced to look extra hard for the actual pupil, momentarily wondering if the other man can even see him. “You’re a unique one aren’t you Chanyeol?” and if that’s not the understatement of the year, he doesn’t know what is. “I mean, even without considering the whole bein’ a witch thing.” And maybe that’s something Chanyeol hadn’t considered, being different to Jongdae for reasons other than his abilities, for reasons other than his hobbies. Everyone could be a witch so to speak, it was just how much time they were willing to invest into it.
The bookcases prove their worth as Chanyeol steadies himself on them, opening his mouth in protest as Jongdae pulled his hand away. “I wouldn’t know, bein’ unique kinda loses effectiveness once you know you are doesn’t it?” he asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. For good measure he narrows his eyes too, leaning his head against the side of the bookcase that separated the Es from Fs. “Or is that readin’ too much into it?” he asks, shutting his eyes for what feels like a second but maybe it’s longer since when he opens them Jongdae is gone, face no longer occupying the small gap between the books.
“I’d definitely agree you’re reading too much into it.” Jongdae’s voice is soft and a lot closer than it had been before. “But don’t worry, I like it.” Chanyeol’s opens his mouth to reply, to say something about how he wasn’t doing it for Jongdae to like it but there’s a mouth slotting over his and he has to consider that maybe he’s doing it because he does want to please Jongdae.
Paper crinkles gently against his chest as Jongdae sneaks a hand against it, obviously on the way to hooking it around his neck, maybe even curling his hands in the baby hairs at the base of his neck. “What’s that?” Jongdae asks, voice barely escaping around Chanyeol’s lips in his own desperation to claim the touch once again. But Jongdae has other ideas clearly, pulling away with a smile on his face that’s more apology than anything else but it still has the power to make Chanyeol want to bend to his will, the same way he’d been interested in doing since they first met.
His hands are still on the bookcase, the chance to move them and slide them to hold Jongdae’s face having slipped away from him but Chanyeol hides his bitterness about it, instead choosing to slip his hands under his collar. “It’s a good luck charm.” he explains, the thin leather band of the pouch weighing more than it probably should as he pulls it from under his multiple layers, having to pull it a little harshly until it popped out from under his bundled scarf. “If I’m bein’ honest I thought it wasn’t workin’ when I saw your face behind the books.” blush creeps up on his cheeks as he makes the admission, it would have sounded harsher than it did had he not been whispering, and Jongdae’s smile wasn’t as warm as it was.
It’s obvious Jongdae is biting back laughter as he reaches out, doesn’t take the charm just smooths his fingers across the hanja Chanyeol had managed to write out, even with extra care, in ten minutes this morning. “You’re good at good luck charms that feel like they’re backfiring when they’re really not aren’t you?” He has protest on his tongue, in his soul but Jongdae beats him to the punch, kissing him again, stealing away the words he wants to press to his skin. “Trust me ‘Yeol, I have personal experience.” he whispers it against Chanyeol’s lips, not breaking away fully this time, their breaths still mingling in the private little bubble they’d created behind the bookcases.
He doesn’t know what to do in that moment, well, he does but it feels odd to creep his hands up until they’re cradling Jongdae’s face, thumb strumming the string of his jawline, fingertips on his other hand tracing along the outline of his cheekbones. “Maybe things would have gone smoother with my charms if we’d actually listened to each other from the beginning.” he points out, tilting his head, looking down through his lashes to survey the gentle planes of Jongdae’s face, wondering just how strong his magic was that he managed to get this lucky. He’d have to ask his mum sometime - when it came to magic there was no room for doubt.
Laughter that feels as out of place as it did before settles between them and as Chanyeol watches Jongdae he realises that maybe that’s the kind of laughter that best suits them. Out of place. “Mm but that wouldn’t be as unique as you are would it?” Jongdae asks, tilting his head into Chanyeol’s left hand as he speaks, his right hand follows. “And remember what I said, I like how unique you are.” And his heart beats, just the same as it had been beating before but there’s just something different about the thrum in his chest as he watches Jongdae’s eyelashes almost brush against the curve of his fingers across his cheekbones.
Chanyeol does remember, knows that he probably won’t ever forget, not the way Jongdae looks right now, not the words he’d whispered to him and not the feel of the other’s skin under his fingers. “Mm, I’d still like to make you a good luck charm that doesn’t stress you out right before it delivers the good luck.” he quips, leaning back in the moment right before he leans in and presses a teasing kiss to those lips once again.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Jongdae whispers back before catching a hold of Chanyeol’s shirt and pulling him towards the exit. He notes with considerable pleasure that Jongdae takes special care to make sure he hasn’t crumpled his good luck charm - even if its work had been done for the day.
-
“He’s gonna come in right?” Junmyeon’s voice comes from the kitchen, a questioning lilt kicking in before the clack of his knife hitting the cutting board cuts Chanyeol off from hearing the rest of what he says. It’s hard enough as it is from where he is half way down the hall to their bedroom - granted it’s not that far but considering he’s used to having exactly zero hallways in his domiciles, it was nice to at least pretend.
Sehun pops out from the bathroom, not because he was using but because he’d demanded he see (read: assess) if there was enough bench space for both Chanyeol and Jongdae. “He just doesn’t like the smoke.” he supplies, looking at Chanyeol as he says it but clearly speaking to Junmyeon. Kyungsoo pops out, and Chanyeol likes to think that he’s bending over a little bit or that Sehun is at least on his tippy toes but it’s honestly as good as good as anyone’s guess because there’s barely a second that he’s there before he’s poking Sehun in the side and forcing him to come back and inspect the bath.
Moans come from he and Jongdae’s bedroom and Chanyeol steps a little closer to the door before he hears his bed springs going, “BYUN BAEKHYUN DON’T THINK I DON’T KNOW ALL YOU AND JONGIN ARE DOING IS JUMPING ON MY BED. GET DOWN RIGHT THIS SECOND.” Laughter that belongs to Jongin more than anything else echoes around his room before Chanyeol busts through the door, holding the smudging sage extra high in the air as he looked around and saw he and Jongdae’s sheets rucked off the bed and the quilt sitting somewhere by the door to the small powder room.
“I didn’t wanna get anything on your sheets. My socks are clean but I’m not sure about Baekhyun’s.” Jongin says, pushing his whatever Baekhyun was to him, Chanyeol wasn’t sure, towards him, practically throwing him under the bus.
Hands slide around Chanyeol’s waist just as he’s about to yell at Baekhyun because this means he’s going to have to fix this all up before Jongdae comes back inside. “Leave him alone babe. Come on, Minseok and Yixing just arrived.” Too late.
Chanyeol curls top lip up at Baekhyun and shoots Jongin a less serious glare before passing off the smudge stick to his best friend. “Clean up and make sure this gets into the powder room, I wanna cleanse this entire area of whatever you guys were gettin’ up to.” he teases, but leaving enough ice in his words that Jongin jumps into action just as he’s being pulled out of the room.
Minseok and Yixing are still waiting at the door, Minseok with a helping hand around Yixing’s shoulders. “I thought you were comin’ with Junmyeon-hyung.” He puzzles, giving them a nod and permission to step over the threshold, the prompt being all Minseok needs before he toes off his shoes, prompting Yixing to do the same thing with a nod not dissimilar to Chanyeol’s.
They get their shoes off pretty quickly though it does take them a little time to find a place to slot them in beside the rest of their friend’s shoes. Chanyeol and Jongdae’s apartment may have been pretty big as far as things went but there was only so much you could do when you had 9+ pairs of shoes already lined up next to the door. “I was but, he said that we should bring something for the housewarming and I said ‘but hyung, we’re already bring the ingredients for soup’ and he said something about it needing to be dessert so…” Yixing trailed off, lifting up something that looked uncannily like banana bread in his hands.
The arms that had been pretty firmly rooted to his side slide away and soon Jongdae has the banana bread in his hands, “Thank you Yixing,” he pauses, turning to look to the man in the kitchen, “Junmyeon. I have it on good authority that my fiancé is very fond of all things banana flavoured.” he teases, throwing a look over his shoulder to Chanyeol before all but skipping over to set it down on the counter, all the while allowing him to be roped into helping Junmyeon in the kitchen. Chanyeol wasn’t sure how that was going to work out in Junmyeon’s favour but it’d be he and Jongdae cleaning up the mess if anything did go wrong so he hoped nothing too bad happened. There was only so many times he could explain to Jongdae that you don’t cook rice by just putting the packet into the cooker and hoping for the best.
“What Yixing failed to mention,” Minseok pipes up from behind him, pulling Chanyeol’s attention back to his guests who had just arrived, “is that he managed to get lost and I found him wandering two blocks from here.” Chanyeol feels his eyes slip shut at the familiarity of the tale and a small voice in the back of his head asks what Junmyeon was doing in the first place leaving Yixing to wander around an unfamiliar neighbourhood on his own.
He casts a quick glance over to the kitchen where Junmyeon is shooting a please-don’t-ask-me-to-explain look to Jongdae and Chanyeol sees that he doesn’t quite need to chew his friend out just yet but he’s ready to when and if the time comes. “Well! I’m just glad you’re here now guys!! It’s still pretty chilly at the moment so we’re just going to be having some stew, soju, and beers but it still should be a nice night in!” he announces it with perhaps more vigour than is entirely needed but none of it is faked.
Chanyeol really is as happy as he sounds to have all his friends over. “AND SO THE HOUSEWARMING OF THE PARK/KIM HOUSEHOLD BEGINS!!!” Jongdae’s even louder than he is, though whether that’s a surprise or not is up to the individual guests, given his one and a half years of dating him, Chanyeol has grown fond of the level of noise.
“Here’s to many happy years!!! And maybe a late night singing session from Chanyeol! I love free entertainment!” It’s Kyungsoo speaking this time, raising a glass of soju Chanyeol knows he shouldn’t be drinking this early on in the night but he bites back his objection and throws his hands in the air, unbothered by the lack of alcoholic beverages in his grasp.
Title: Don’t think about it
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Chen (very lightly hinted: Baekhyun/Kai)
Rating: PG
Length: 8.5k
Summary: It’s not often that Chanyeol meets someone who is immediately accepting of his practicing of witchcraft (no matter how mild it is), and this is not one of those times. Kim Jongdae does come around though, even if it is with the help of a little magic.
Author's note: Thank you so much to G for being an encouraging angel (read: angle), to A for proofreading this and being the feeder of my comedic (notso)genius, and finally to C for reading this and egging me on in the final stretch to do whatever the hell I wanted no matter whether it obeyed societal norms or not.
“Yah, it’s only the first of November and it’s already not going above ten degrees! Aish, winter is going to be harsh this year.”
Chanyeol generally zoned out a little when Baekhyun was ranting to him but talk of the weather was something he was actually interested in, none of that I’ve-been-hitting-on-him-for-the-last-three-months-and-he-hasn’t-even-noticed nonsense - like he’d ever really believed in all Baekhyun’s excuses about the heat being the reason Jongin had rebuffed his advances. “Really? I didn’t get a chance to look at the forecast this morning, I was too busy burning my sage.” Baekhyun squints up his eyes at the comment but then again, he always did that whenever Chanyeol spoke about witchcraft so he’d learnt to tune that out too.
His friend bumps into his side, hand sliding under his arm, unpleasantly cold hands making their way under his jumper sleeve, “It’s only four degrees right now ‘Yeol-ah.” he supplies as if the cool press of his fingers to Chanyeol’s warm arm hadn’t been enough for him to put the pieces together.
Yanking his arm back Chanyeol tucks his hand into the side front pocket of his jeans, “I would have been coping just fine not knowing that.” he grumbles, involuntarily shiver running up his spine and pout coming to a lips as he focuses his eyes on the staircase leading up to the canteen. At least he only needed to put up with this for a little bit more until they could get inside and get some warm food into their system.
The promise of food looms as they draw closer to the hall but so do Baekhyun’s fingers, snaking their way back under the jumper Chanyeol had pulled on before he’d even been outside. Not that he really needed it, his magic could serve him well enough but he’d learnt that wearing a jumper was the best way to avoid the weirded out looks he too often got in the cool weather. “The cold wind starts...” Chanyeol breaks off as Baekhyun shoots him a look but pulls his top lip up in defiance, knowing that Baekhyun couldn’t (and wouldn’t) be complaining once they both heat up. “...The cold wind blows, the colder it gets the hotter I grow.”
Heat started in Chanyeol’s fingertips as he brought them close to his mouth, blowing gently across his skin and waiting until the relief hit Baekhyun’s face and his nose went pink with the transferred heat. “I still think it’s weird when I come into your house and you’re burnin’ some kind of herb.” his nose crinkles as he says it and Chanyeol can tell the heat is washing itself over his toes.
“I was burning Arnica and it was one time. You came earlier than you were meant to.” he snaps back, focussing instead on the way his toes felt less numb than they had been moments earlier. “I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any storms or anything while we were out.” his voice sounds a little whiney but it hurt a little for his intentions to go to the wayside when he’d really been doing it so his friend could enjoy the rare down-time he got, what with how demanding his internship could be.
Baekhyun’s head rests on his upper arm, hands still under his jumper but since he’d cast the spell there was no difference in their temperatures and Chanyeol was able to abide the soft touches. “And I appreciate that ‘Yeol, just catches me off guard from time to time you know?” And of course he did know, it’s not like Chanyeol runs into many fellow witches (wizards? He wasn’t sure what the right term was, then again, he didn’t care enough to spend time researching) himself so he can understand how it’d be weird to have your best friend be one. He should be happy that Baekhyun even still wants to be his friend with the way some people will look at him when he casts spells in public.
He flops his head to the side, stopping short when he realises that Baekhyun’s just too short for their heads to rest against one another and speaks, “Well if somethin’ is able to catch you off guard after this many years I’d hate to see what your reaction is when something you’ve never seen before surprises you.” It’s a tease and he ribs Baekhyun’s side as he speaks enough to let his friend know that there’s no malice behind his words; even if it’d be hard to read it that way anyway.
Chanyeol’s feet hit the steps before Baekhyun and his friend lets out a sound of protest as he jolts him up the stairs and forces him to pick up the pace. “You’ve seen my reaction and don’t think I didn’t hear you muttering protection charms right after.” Baekhyun whines, fingers gripping tighter to Chanyeol’s wrist just to make sure he didn’t run off, which Chanyeol would protest where it not for the fact that he had to acknowledge warm (and free) food was a constant temptation for him.
“I wouldn’t have had to mutter protection charms if you didn’t sound like you were possessed.” Chanyeol counters, pulling his arm and consequently, Baekhyun forwards, patience for warm food wearing thin, even if he couldn’t feel the persistent cool wind.
There’s a haughty huff behind him before an offended looking Baekhyun appears by his side, hand miraculously still in place, even if his hair was a little ruffled. “Listen now!”
He draws to a stop, ”I’m listening.”
Baekhyun’s face crinkles the same way it had when he’d seen him burning the Arcania, like he was trying to figure out a maths problem that was way too difficult. “I didn’t think that I would get this far.” Chanyeol snorts. “BUT LISTEN! He was really hot okay? I was caught off guard.”
Almost as if realising the ridiculousness of what he was saying, Baekhyun dissolves into laughter and Chanyeol is left to pull him inside the hall, fending off soured looks of seniors startled from their early morning stupors by a few well placed snorts. “Are you sure you’re not some sort of incubus? Such that your true form comes out when you see an incredibly attractive man?” Chanyeol asks as he steers towards the left side of the line that lead towards the breakfast line.
Clarity takes over Baekhyun’s face as if he’s just figuring out the answer to the maths question he’d been puzzling over, though it doesn’t last long since just as Chanyeol picks up their cutlery the puzzled face comes back again. “Can incubi be gay? Or at least attracted to the men?”
The look pressed to Baekhyun’s face is mirrored on Chanyeol’s as he taps his spoon against the side of the bowl he’d picked up, “No.” he starts, nodding once before looking over to his friend, “I think the lore is too binary to accommodate a same-sex attracted incubus - with nothing to be said for non-binary incubi.” he nods sagely before regretting it when his bowl is filled with bacon.
“I didn’t-” he’s silenced by a particularly stern look from the lady who’d apparently been roped into serving at this ungodly hour of, he checks his watch, seven thirty nine am. Passing up the opportunity to argue with the woman about why-the-hell-would-I-want-my-bacon-in-a-bowl, however interesting that particular argument would be, he shuffled along, pulling along Baekhyun to save him from the same Bacon In A Bowl fate. Friendship at its finest.
There’s another body at his side, his right, not his left and it’s just too short to be Baekhyun. “Are you gonna eat that?” The voice definitely isn’t Baekhyun’s and Chanyeol is surprised anyone had approached him. Barely anyone on campus had spoken to him since the incident where he managed to freeze an entire lake just so he could fish out his football.
The cereal is on the other side of the stranger’s body and even if he did have the ability to teleport, it would probably be an odd spectacle at, he checks his watch, seven forty one am. “I don’t think I am, y’know since I didn’t ask for it.” he says, shuffling a little closer in the hopes that the stranger would pick up the hint and move out of his way. He didn’t.
“That’s what I thought.” And before he has time to protest, to point out that stealing someone’s bacon right off their plate is rude, his bacon is being exactly that; stolen right off his plate. “Thank you, this way I don’t have to wait in line.”
Chanyeol feels a beat pass and the body is still there, eyes glued to his jawline. “Are you waitin’ for me to say something else?” he asks, still, amazingly, managing to not look at the man beside him. The only reason he was able to tell that it was actually a man was because of his voice, even if it was a terribly binary assumption of him. “I said I didn’t really want the bacon.” he pointed out, vaguely gesturing his hand at the plate his bacon had been shifted to.
Laughter huffs into the air beside him and there’s a moment where Chanyeol feels like he’s missing out on something that he shouldn’t be, “Usually people get pissy, that I took their food.” he obviously sees Chanyeol open his mouth to insist that he didn’t want the bloody bacon and cuts him off before he even begins, “even if they didn’t want it.”
Seems weird of someone, to care so much that they’d invest their time and energy into a couple of pieces of bacon when they didn’t even want it. Chanyeol opens his mouth to say just that and turns his head to face the man who was still very much beside him and not letting him get to the cereal, much to Baekhyun’s (tiny) protest. “I don’t think I’d care if you took everything I did want. Which is a big bowl of those chocolate banana Chex over there.” is what comes out instead as he points above the man’s head, surprising himself with how small he really was. Even if he’d known he was shorter than Baekhyun the voice was enough that it felt like he was towering over Chanyeol.
It’s an Odd Thing to say, Chanyeol realises once the man’s eyebrows pull together with a surprising level of expressiveness, almost meeting to create some sort of Super Monobrow of Surprise. “Kim Jongdae.” there’s no context which Chanyeol goes to point out but he’s cut off again with a small laugh and even a little blush, “Usually boys want to know my name before they declare they’d let me take all their earthly possessions.”
Which seems like a fair statement, even if Chanyeol hadn’t said that he’d take all his earthly possessions, just his chocolate banana Chex from over there but he had to admit that it came pretty close. “Park Chanyeol.” he says, voice softer this time, the knowledge of the other man’s name hanging heavy on his own reply.
He nods, and curls his lips at the outside enough that Chanyeol has to wonder if they’d been like that before or if he’d just encountered a therianthrope, “Well Park Chanyeol, thank you for the bacon. I’ll be on my way.” Jongdae’s lips turn upwards even more at the corners and the thought of a therianthrope returns to the back of Chanyeol’s momentarily blank mind.
Asking about it actually seems like a good enough idea, if Jongdae was one then at least he could add another person to the list of ones who wouldn’t entirely hate him given his penchant for use of magic. “Wait a second, I’ll heat up m- I mean, your bacon first.” he says instead, tips of his ears colouring a little at the way Jongdae looks back at him over his shoulder. He’d have to ask him about the transforming into a cat thing later, if he couldn’t gather evidence on the contrary in the meantime.
Curiosity flickers across the boy’s face and for a heartbeat Chanyeol feels like he’s forgotten the actual spell, “I don’t think the breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever other time you feel like eating, ladies would be pleased to hear you imply they serve lukewarm food.” Jongdae intones, amusement flickering along those lips - oh those lips.
“Oh but we do.” A voice that doesn’t belong to Baekhyun comes from some weird mix of left and behind him, enough that he’d consider it diagonal and it definitely was one of the breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever other time you feel like eating, ladies.
Those eyebrows pinch together again, that same amusement from before taking root in the line stitched between the two. “Well then, I’d love it if you could heat up the bacon that was yours until I stole it.” He holds out his plate and just like before he feels the words fall from his brain and Chanyeol is forced to draw his attention away from the gentle slope of Jongdae’s eyebrows and back to the bacon.
His hand hovers above the plate for a hot second and he can see in Jongdae’s eyes that he expects him to take it to the microwave on the other side of the canteen. Had it been anyone else, Chanyeol would probably ask him why the hell it would be regular for him to have people practically wait on him hand and food but this was apparently Kim Jongdae and even if it wasn’t normal for the to happen to him, Chanyeol had to wonder why it wasn’t. “Warm the ice.” he whispers, eyes flicking to Jongdae briefly before his fingertips touched the side of the porcelain, a shock of heat running just under the surface of the platter at the contact. The bacon starts sizzling and popping just as he pulls his fingers away, a warm blush running under his cheeks as he looks up to assess Jongdae’s reaction.
It’s not abject horror, though nor is it ecstatic acceptance, rather a vague disinterest in what he’d just done. “You’ll have to tell me how you do your little tricks next time Mr Park.” Of all the replies Chanyeol had been expecting, that hadn’t been one of them and by the time he’s opened his mouth to bite out his reply that this is Real Magic thank you very much, Jongdae is already gone.
Baekhyun elbows him and he stumbles into the space previously occupied by his current antagonist, “Move your ass Park, I wanna get my breakfast sausages.” Usually Chanyeol would say something back about Baekhyun perhaps enjoying sausages more than any one person should, but his words have been stolen by the casual underestimation of his magic.
Next time he’d show Jongdae, just how fantastic subtle magic was.
-
May Kim Jongdae have nothing but ease and happiness
Chanyeol etched out the hanja carefully, making sure strokes didn’t cross over in the wrong places and being especially wary with the characters for Jongdae’s name. Not that he didn’t mind the luck going to someone else, in fact that would be a happy accident, but it was preferable that The Kim Jongdae was the one to be on the receiving end of his work.
Slowly he raised the sheet of paper up to the light, allowing the sun to shine through the flimsy rice paper, hoping against hope that the wind wasn’t strong enough to tear it. Not that he wouldn’t be happy to redraw his calligraphy, he’d practiced that at least twenty times in the safety of his dorm room, the damned rice paper was just too expensive for him to be spending frivolous amounts of money on it. He was just a regular college student after all, even if he was a witch he was a witch on a budget.
Patting the ground he searched from the sprig of thyme he’d set down by his knees once he’d started the ritual. Baekhyun had offered to be here this afternoon but he’d heard tell of Jongin doing a street performance two blocks away and had bidden Chanyeol a goodbye with a good luck pat to his back. It was appreciated, especially with the light breeze blowing, ruffling his hair and threatening the hard work he’d been at for the last twenty minutes.
“Whatcha doin’ there?” If he had the ability to swivel his head 270 degrees Chanyeol would have seen Jongdae’s head pop over his but as it was he had to deal with watching his shadow look like he’d suddenly grown another head on his right shoulder.
If he’d been writing in hanguel he probably would have been a little more worried but as it was the good luck charm called upon him to use hanja and he was pretty confident Jongdae wouldn’t be able to read it. The only reason he was even semi-competent was because of his incredibly stubborn father and his grandmother’s odd obsession with her family being able to read Chinese characters, no matter how useless the ability was rapidly becoming in a country that was steadily disregarding its Sino language influences. “I’m practicing my hanja.” he offers, pull the thyme from where it’s rolled under his knee.
Jongdae’s weight settles on his back in a sensation that isn’t entirely unwelcome, “I gathered. Just wonderin’ why you’ve got ‘May Kim Jongdae have nothing but ease and happiness’ written on some pretty expensive lookin’ rice paper.” Chanyeol starts at the casual tone that Jongdae reads it out in. There’s no lagging in his intonation, enough that it’s obvious he’s as good as, if not better than, Chanyeol with hanja. It’s a struggle in his mind between being attracted and embarrassed. “I mean, I appreciate the thought but it’s a little odd for you to be writin’ something like that out for me since we only met once and that involved me taking food off your plate.” He decides on embarrassed.
Pouting his lips, Chanyeol considers his options, now that Jongdae knew what had actually been written there wasn’t many, but he could always say someone had asked him to create this for them, that he was just a witch for hire on this occasion. It was a weak excuse but given how attractive Jongdae was there was always the possibility that someone would hire him for something like this. Nothing like expressing your attraction for someone like paying a witch to ensure that person didn’t suffer hardship for the length of the spell’s effect. Which didn’t mean Chanyeol was attracted attracted to Jongdae, it was just that he thought Jongdae was a nice guy that didn’t deserve to go through shit, even if he did have odd habits of ambushing people in hopes of getting their spare bacon.
On a side note: how often did people have spare bacon? Chanyeol felt someone needed to answer this for him.
“It is a little odd.” he agrees, pulling his lighter from his back pocket, ignoring the way the back of his hand bumps into Jongdae’s shin and the incoming thoughts of wondering exactly how tiny Jongdae needed to be for his shins to be knocking against his hands reaching into his back pockets. “But I mean it’s perfectly usual Saturday afternoon fare.” he remarks, trying a couple of times to start a good flame, cursing himself out for not picking up a new lighter and hoping his three month old one would be good enough.
Normal people didn’t go through a lighter every three months, not even heavy smokers, Chanyeol reminds himself. He’d maybe need to cut back on the sage burning but then again maybe Baekhyun should cut back on bringing strangers into the house who reeked of alcohol and a few wrong decisions - Baekhyun being one of them. Still, their house was safe and pure, reeking of sage but safe and pure. Chanyeol wasn’t about to have his spaced messed with by some outsider’s vibes. “Am I gonna get an explanation beyond that?” Jongdae slides round to the side and Chanyeol feels his arm drop as the sudden weight of a Human Body settles on it instead of his back.
He considers, tilting his head, still avoiding Jongdae’s gaze as he tosses his lighter over to his other hand. “Depends on what kind of answer you want. If I give you an untruthful one the ritual won’t work since it needs a pure aura to perform it, if I give you a truthful one, the ritual will work but you might be a little, maybe a lot, weirded out.” he explains, shutting his eyes as he wills the tiny flame to pop to life almost in his palm. Unfortunately his ability wasn’t that far advanced yet and he tilted the lighter to light up the thyme he’d swapped to his other hand - the one attached to the arm Jongdae was weighing down considerably.
The weight shifts a little and for a moment Chanyeol thinks that Jongdae has moved but as it returns he realises that he was just rearranging his position to be more comfortable. “Being weirded out doesn’t sound all that great but then again, I’m also quite interested in the ease and happiness so...truthful answer it is.” A finger pokes to the side of Chanyeol’s face to where he realises his dimple would have been showing since the finality in Jongdae’s voice had prompted a smile to pop up on his face.
Wrangling his smile is harder than it probably should be and Chanyeol gives himself a single moment to breathe in and out enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s making light of the situation. Magic should be taken as seriously as any other craft should be - his mother had always said it should be comparable to sword-crafting but that seemed a little overtop; maybe some kind of final art project worth 80% of one’s grade. Sword-crafting was reserved for the more serious stuff, like when he was forming literal swords from fire, luckily though, that wasn’t needed too often; if ever. “It’s because I do this for everyone I like.”
“Like?”
Chanyeol briefly considers saying something like of course that’s what you’d pick out but if he’s being honest, he probably would have picked up that tid-bit too. “I mean like...just people who I think deserve it. I did one for my journalism professor in first year too. Mum yelled at me for like three days afterwards too since she didn’t think my magic was ready.” he explains, waving the sage a little in the air for the wind to help it burn with a little more vigour.
There’s a snort beside his ear and when Jongdae speaks Chanyeol can almost feel his breathing against his cheek, “You studied journalism?” As well as feeling his breathing the laughter of his companion echoes up his arm, taking root in his chest and warming him inside out like magic never quite could. Chanyeol’s surprised he can even feel it given the heating charm he’d cast on himself before leaving the house this morning.
Flame picks up in the wind, burning through the sage with an eagerness Chanyeol hadn’t seen since the time two men had walked out of Baekhyun’s bedroom the morning after and he’d been too scared to ask what had happened (as if he didn’t already know). “Yeah, before I dropped it to focus on music.” he says, licking his lips after he glances over to catch Jongdae’s eyes for the first time this interaction. There’s crinkles at the edges of them and those brows are knitted together just the same as they had been when Jongdae had mentioned people didn’t usually like him taking their bacon - it’s endearing that he’s so predictable.
A sniffle, possibly because of the smoke, maybe even the cold; “Music.” Jongdae’s voice is dry and he gives a little hiccough that Chanyeol chooses to ignore, instead drawing the sage over to the rolled up scroll of rice paper, breathing in the scent as it caught alight, smudging sage mixing with the positive energy of the pressed rice. “I didn’t know you were into music. I’ve never seen you at any of the dance performances on campus.” Jongdae says, voice turning rough with the burn of the smoke.
Chanyeol switches the hand he’s holding the smudging stick in and the rice paper, hoping to shift the worst of the smoke away from Jongdae, even if there was only so much he could do with Jongdae practically attaching himself to his person. “I don’t perform the music, I just write it, lyrics, composing. All that kind of stuff. I mean; I can perform in a pinch but I’m kind of embarrassed of my singing voice.” he explains, blush creeping up his neck as he casts another look at Jongdae, catching a glance of those eye crinkles from before.
It’s clear that Jongdae’s about to reply when he coughs, unable to catch himself before there’s a few flecks of spit on the side of Chanyeol’s face. “Ah, sorry Chanyeol-ah.” He blinks, they blink, staring at each other as Jongdae realises his slip up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t sure if we were the same age. I mean we’re in the same year but y’know…” he trails off and a colour that should have been on Chanyeol’s cheeks appears on his.
Imagining a small ball of wind in his palm, Chanyeol allows it to grow for a brief moment, gathering strength from the weight and heat of the body pressed to his side before he releases it, whispering in soft intonation, “Leave this place.” before he lets the energy go. The smoke dissipated with an unnatural haste, clearing the air enough that his vision is clear when he looks back to Jongdae. “We both started university in the same year and we’ve both served our military service. Even if I hadn’t asked Baekhyun to find out how old you were for me, I’d be pretty confident that we’re the same age.” he reassures him, even offering up a small nod of his head before he turns back to the curling rice paper.
There’s a hum of agreement that Chanyeol feels reverberate from Jongdae’s chest and up his arm before there’s another poke to his dimple, amusement at their ageist predicament having sparked it this time. “I think I’d like your singing voice, it’d be all soft and husky. Kinda like how you sounded on Wednesday because you’d just woken up.” When he turns to open his mouth and tell Jongdae about just how wrong he probably was, he realised he was right; at least according to what Baekhyun had said the last time he’d caught Chanyeol singing in the shower.
“I hadn’t just woken up.” he complains, though it doesn’t bear much weight given the smile seemingly permanently pressed onto his features when he was around Jongdae.
Okay maybe he was a little attracted to Jongdae like the kind of people who would pay him to cast a good luck spell for their crushes. “Sure thing Mr I-wake-up-two-minutes-before-leaving-the-house. It was endearing, as endearing as someone can be when they’re giving me their bacon.” Chanyeol narrows his eyes before Jongdae rolls his and nods in acknowledgement, “...okay so someone can be very endearing when giving me their bacon. It’s one of the most endearing things someone can do.” He pokes Chanyeol’s dimple again and a voice in the back of his voice wonders if this is going to be something that they do on a regular basis but he brushes it off before he lets his hopes get the best of him.
Pulling his face as straight as possible Chanyeol drew his attention to the last corner of the burning paper. “Fill him with luck and take away doubt.” his voice dips deep and low as he feels Jongdae press closer to his side, almost as if he was looking to hear him better; as if their close proximity didn’t mean Jongdae would have been able to hear him even if he’d been on the edge of losing his voice and whispering. “Give him riches.”
“Give me riches.” Jongdae’s voice is soft against Chanyeol’s ear, but it’s there and it’s almost enough to startle Chanyeol from his focus, to distract him from the tenuous grasp he had on the rice paper and the spell.
“Please grant all of his wishes.” he finishes and feels more than hears Jongdae’s repetition of the words as the final corner curls in on itself and dissolves into the ashes it was destined to be. The final puff of ash into the air is smoky and for a second he worries about Jongdae’s breathing but it seems even enough as the man’s arms wrap around his arm and his head settles on Chanyeol’s shoulder.
They stay that way in the silence, watching the smoke curl into nothing in the beats between their breaths, Chanyeol turning over the implications of Jongdae’s hold on him in his mind and well, he had no clue what Jongdae was thinking about. “Seems like a big ritual for something that isn’t real.” And just like that the illusion shatters and Chanyeol feels his shoulders shrink in on themselves. Of course Jongdae didn’t take him seriously, people never did, and he knows it’s his fault for allowing himself to believe that maybe, just for a second, he’d found someone who enjoyed the warmth magic could breathe into one’s soul.
Drawing his bottom lip through his teeth, Chanyeol pulls his eyebrows together as he turns to look at Jongdae, the distance between them not fazing him like it probably would have two seconds ago as he leveled the other with an accusing gaze. “Doesn’t work?” he means to ask more but his voice falls away and he’s left to watch as Jongdae draws away from him, both figuratively and literally.
Jongdae makes some sort of vague gesture to the hand that had held the rice paper not two minutes ago before letting out a loud sigh, “Do you really believe in this kind of thing?” it stings probably more than it should to hear him say something like that and Chanyeol’s eyes snap accusatory to Jongdae’s wrist, zeroing in on the rosary bracelet that had been pressing into his arm for the last five minutes.
“You seem to have no issues believin’ in something that has nothing proving that it actually works. Unlike magic.” his words are harsh, he knows, belief isn’t all about proof and he knows that but there’s just something about Jongdae’s words that hit him where it really hurts. In his trust.
Arms unwind themselves and Chanyeol feels a heat he didn’t really need distancing itself from his side, allowing the cool of the afternoon to hit him with a shock he’d not been expecting. “I see how it is.” Jongdae’s voice is almost as icy as the breeze brushing up against them, carrying the cool and harsh reality of the plunging lake just a few metres away.
Chanyeol slips his lighter back into his back pocket, purposefully not noticing (and in the process noticing) the missing brush of Jongdae’s shins against his knuckles as he tucks the angled metal away. “Yeah.” he manages before pulling his lips into a tight smile, smoothing his fingertips over the outline in the denim. “Sorry.” it tastes bitter in his mouth, especially when Jongdae returns his smile, eye crinkles missing but he doesn’t regret a word.
Because magic did work, and it would work for Jongdae; he just had to wait and find out.
-
Music blasts in his ears, a refuge from the silence of the library. His good luck charm crinkles against his chest, a reminder of the wishes he’d set out for himself this morning. He would have a good day and his day would be good. Chanyeol couldn’t control what he’d said days ago, well, not anymore, but he could control the way his day would go today. And that was well.
Until he pulled that theology textbook off the shelf, a choice totally not motivated by the burning sadness he’d seen in Jongdae’s eyes on Saturday. “Hello.” Chanyeol’s eyes slip shut, drawing away from the allure of the face on the other side of the bookcase, mind instead focussing on the weight of the book in his hand. “Fancy seeing you here.” Jongdae’s voice is tight at the edges, probably because he hadn’t been planning on seeing Chanyeol here, which was fair enough because Chanyeol hadn’t been planning on seeing Jongdae here. He pauses his music.
Tilting his head back to the heavens, Chanyeol didn’t know what he was looking for, maybe that flare in the pit of his stomach, something his mother had always told him would come if he focussed his need just enough. “I’m not praying right now.” he pointed out, cracking open one eye and pulling his lips downwards as he tried to spot Jongdae in the cracks between the books.
There’s a splutter of laughter and those eye crinkles are back, just as crinkly as they were before and the little upticks at the corner of Jongdae’s mouth are back too, and were it not for their conversation on Saturday, Chanyeol would have thought he really was a cat familiar in disguise. “I didn’t think you were Park, thought you might be doin’ something magicky.” he says, voice laced with amusement that felt just a touch out of place but not enough that Chanyeol was going to call it out. Sometimes misplaced amusement could be one of the most magical things in the universe.
Curling his hands inwards, balling his hands to a fist and then relaxing them again, he finally allowed his eyes to slip open again. “Usually I warn people before doin’ something ‘magicky’.” he mimics the way Jongdae had spoken, tacking the cute syllable onto the end with a teasing glint in his eyes. They’re still standing there, bookshelf separating them and given the ease it should have taken him to just step around it, but Chanyeol didn’t want to and he got the feeling Jongdae didn’t either. There was something about the safety of the shadow that both of them found comforting. “Means it’s less likely people are gonna witch hunt me y’know?” he says, weak smile edging across his features, humour feeling fake given his thinly veiled veneer of pain.
Jongdae makes a show of pulling a book of the shelf beside his head, dipping his nose into the book almost close enough to smell it before he speaks again. “Do you get witch hunted often?” it’s a question Chanyeol hadn’t been expecting him to ask. Usually Jongdae liked to latch on to the odder choice between two pieces of information, then again he supposed there was a time and place for being normal.
Blinking back memories he, and his family, would rather not remember Chanyeol huffs out a laugh that he cuts off with his hand clapping over his mouth. He waits a beat, making sure the nervousness won’t come back in a way that’ll get him kicked out of the library, and drops his hand. “More often than most people would like, why do you think I don’t live at home? I live in Seoul you know, my family does I mean…” he trails off, remembering the way his neighbours had looked at him as he’d stacked his moving boxes in his father’s delivery truck. They’d been…relieved. Apparently having his mum do magic was already pushing it but him, a teenage boy? They didn’t trust him.
Chanyeol could kind of understand, he’d seen the way his classmates had loved to run amok in the neighbourhoods on the days they didn’t have class, knew how they’d always wanted to pull him into the troublemaking - even after he’d protested. “That sucks.” Jongdae’s voice is soft, and there’s a bit of inevitability in the edges, fraying out his voice enough that it feels like it’s touching the knuckles Chanyeol had curled against the cool metal of the shelves. “I don’t think I’ve ever been witch hunted. I mean, I live in Seoul because it’d take me ages to get from home to the university. Silheung kid problems.” He makes a hashtag in the air and gives Chanyeol a smile that feels even more out of place than his laughter had, it’s nice though, to feel like it’s okay to laugh, to smile.
Smiling back he ticks up the left side of his smile, dimpling his cheek. “Y’know I’d been wondering where your accent was from.” he points out, blush rushing up in his cheeks as Jongdae reached through the gap in the books and poked his dimple.
“Could’ve just asked if you were really curious y’know.” his voice is teasing, lighter than it had been a minute ago and Chanyeol is thankful for the sanctuary away from the serious conversation. “I happen to like talking about myself.”
He narrows his eyes, reflecting on what Baekhyun had reported to him on Friday night after a self-appointed expedition to find out more about the Kim Jongdae who had ‘captured Chanyeol’s heart over some bacon’. Correcting Baekhyun had gotten lost in the haze of information he’d offered up about the man, who, even if he hadn’t captured Chanyeol’s heart, he was curious about. “That’s not what I’ve heard.” Chanyeol points out, noting internally that Jongdae doesn’t move his hand when Chanyeol tilts his head into it.
Fingers pinch his cheek, but don’t move away as Chanyeol fixes Jongdae with a heated glare, “Maybe I’d just like to talk about myself with you.” Jongdae counters, thumb rubbing over the sting of his pinch, delight dancing in his eyes. “I do hear that’s what the kids are doing these days.” he adds on to the end, curling his lips up at the corners a little more, clearly taking stock in the intrigue Chanyeol could feel prickling up and along his spine.
Their eyes meet for a moment and everything drops away for a moment, “Yeah, I hear it is.” it’s a dumb response and Chanyeol knows it but it’s the only thing that comes to his mind as he feels the heat seep from Jongdae’s fingers and into his face.
He watches as Jongdae’s eyes go to crescents and he’s forced to look extra hard for the actual pupil, momentarily wondering if the other man can even see him. “You’re a unique one aren’t you Chanyeol?” and if that’s not the understatement of the year, he doesn’t know what is. “I mean, even without considering the whole bein’ a witch thing.” And maybe that’s something Chanyeol hadn’t considered, being different to Jongdae for reasons other than his abilities, for reasons other than his hobbies. Everyone could be a witch so to speak, it was just how much time they were willing to invest into it.
The bookcases prove their worth as Chanyeol steadies himself on them, opening his mouth in protest as Jongdae pulled his hand away. “I wouldn’t know, bein’ unique kinda loses effectiveness once you know you are doesn’t it?” he asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. For good measure he narrows his eyes too, leaning his head against the side of the bookcase that separated the Es from Fs. “Or is that readin’ too much into it?” he asks, shutting his eyes for what feels like a second but maybe it’s longer since when he opens them Jongdae is gone, face no longer occupying the small gap between the books.
“I’d definitely agree you’re reading too much into it.” Jongdae’s voice is soft and a lot closer than it had been before. “But don’t worry, I like it.” Chanyeol’s opens his mouth to reply, to say something about how he wasn’t doing it for Jongdae to like it but there’s a mouth slotting over his and he has to consider that maybe he’s doing it because he does want to please Jongdae.
Paper crinkles gently against his chest as Jongdae sneaks a hand against it, obviously on the way to hooking it around his neck, maybe even curling his hands in the baby hairs at the base of his neck. “What’s that?” Jongdae asks, voice barely escaping around Chanyeol’s lips in his own desperation to claim the touch once again. But Jongdae has other ideas clearly, pulling away with a smile on his face that’s more apology than anything else but it still has the power to make Chanyeol want to bend to his will, the same way he’d been interested in doing since they first met.
His hands are still on the bookcase, the chance to move them and slide them to hold Jongdae’s face having slipped away from him but Chanyeol hides his bitterness about it, instead choosing to slip his hands under his collar. “It’s a good luck charm.” he explains, the thin leather band of the pouch weighing more than it probably should as he pulls it from under his multiple layers, having to pull it a little harshly until it popped out from under his bundled scarf. “If I’m bein’ honest I thought it wasn’t workin’ when I saw your face behind the books.” blush creeps up on his cheeks as he makes the admission, it would have sounded harsher than it did had he not been whispering, and Jongdae’s smile wasn’t as warm as it was.
It’s obvious Jongdae is biting back laughter as he reaches out, doesn’t take the charm just smooths his fingers across the hanja Chanyeol had managed to write out, even with extra care, in ten minutes this morning. “You’re good at good luck charms that feel like they’re backfiring when they’re really not aren’t you?” He has protest on his tongue, in his soul but Jongdae beats him to the punch, kissing him again, stealing away the words he wants to press to his skin. “Trust me ‘Yeol, I have personal experience.” he whispers it against Chanyeol’s lips, not breaking away fully this time, their breaths still mingling in the private little bubble they’d created behind the bookcases.
He doesn’t know what to do in that moment, well, he does but it feels odd to creep his hands up until they’re cradling Jongdae’s face, thumb strumming the string of his jawline, fingertips on his other hand tracing along the outline of his cheekbones. “Maybe things would have gone smoother with my charms if we’d actually listened to each other from the beginning.” he points out, tilting his head, looking down through his lashes to survey the gentle planes of Jongdae’s face, wondering just how strong his magic was that he managed to get this lucky. He’d have to ask his mum sometime - when it came to magic there was no room for doubt.
Laughter that feels as out of place as it did before settles between them and as Chanyeol watches Jongdae he realises that maybe that’s the kind of laughter that best suits them. Out of place. “Mm but that wouldn’t be as unique as you are would it?” Jongdae asks, tilting his head into Chanyeol’s left hand as he speaks, his right hand follows. “And remember what I said, I like how unique you are.” And his heart beats, just the same as it had been beating before but there’s just something different about the thrum in his chest as he watches Jongdae’s eyelashes almost brush against the curve of his fingers across his cheekbones.
Chanyeol does remember, knows that he probably won’t ever forget, not the way Jongdae looks right now, not the words he’d whispered to him and not the feel of the other’s skin under his fingers. “Mm, I’d still like to make you a good luck charm that doesn’t stress you out right before it delivers the good luck.” he quips, leaning back in the moment right before he leans in and presses a teasing kiss to those lips once again.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Jongdae whispers back before catching a hold of Chanyeol’s shirt and pulling him towards the exit. He notes with considerable pleasure that Jongdae takes special care to make sure he hasn’t crumpled his good luck charm - even if its work had been done for the day.
-
“He’s gonna come in right?” Junmyeon’s voice comes from the kitchen, a questioning lilt kicking in before the clack of his knife hitting the cutting board cuts Chanyeol off from hearing the rest of what he says. It’s hard enough as it is from where he is half way down the hall to their bedroom - granted it’s not that far but considering he’s used to having exactly zero hallways in his domiciles, it was nice to at least pretend.
Sehun pops out from the bathroom, not because he was using but because he’d demanded he see (read: assess) if there was enough bench space for both Chanyeol and Jongdae. “He just doesn’t like the smoke.” he supplies, looking at Chanyeol as he says it but clearly speaking to Junmyeon. Kyungsoo pops out, and Chanyeol likes to think that he’s bending over a little bit or that Sehun is at least on his tippy toes but it’s honestly as good as good as anyone’s guess because there’s barely a second that he’s there before he’s poking Sehun in the side and forcing him to come back and inspect the bath.
Moans come from he and Jongdae’s bedroom and Chanyeol steps a little closer to the door before he hears his bed springs going, “BYUN BAEKHYUN DON’T THINK I DON’T KNOW ALL YOU AND JONGIN ARE DOING IS JUMPING ON MY BED. GET DOWN RIGHT THIS SECOND.” Laughter that belongs to Jongin more than anything else echoes around his room before Chanyeol busts through the door, holding the smudging sage extra high in the air as he looked around and saw he and Jongdae’s sheets rucked off the bed and the quilt sitting somewhere by the door to the small powder room.
“I didn’t wanna get anything on your sheets. My socks are clean but I’m not sure about Baekhyun’s.” Jongin says, pushing his whatever Baekhyun was to him, Chanyeol wasn’t sure, towards him, practically throwing him under the bus.
Hands slide around Chanyeol’s waist just as he’s about to yell at Baekhyun because this means he’s going to have to fix this all up before Jongdae comes back inside. “Leave him alone babe. Come on, Minseok and Yixing just arrived.” Too late.
Chanyeol curls top lip up at Baekhyun and shoots Jongin a less serious glare before passing off the smudge stick to his best friend. “Clean up and make sure this gets into the powder room, I wanna cleanse this entire area of whatever you guys were gettin’ up to.” he teases, but leaving enough ice in his words that Jongin jumps into action just as he’s being pulled out of the room.
Minseok and Yixing are still waiting at the door, Minseok with a helping hand around Yixing’s shoulders. “I thought you were comin’ with Junmyeon-hyung.” He puzzles, giving them a nod and permission to step over the threshold, the prompt being all Minseok needs before he toes off his shoes, prompting Yixing to do the same thing with a nod not dissimilar to Chanyeol’s.
They get their shoes off pretty quickly though it does take them a little time to find a place to slot them in beside the rest of their friend’s shoes. Chanyeol and Jongdae’s apartment may have been pretty big as far as things went but there was only so much you could do when you had 9+ pairs of shoes already lined up next to the door. “I was but, he said that we should bring something for the housewarming and I said ‘but hyung, we’re already bring the ingredients for soup’ and he said something about it needing to be dessert so…” Yixing trailed off, lifting up something that looked uncannily like banana bread in his hands.
The arms that had been pretty firmly rooted to his side slide away and soon Jongdae has the banana bread in his hands, “Thank you Yixing,” he pauses, turning to look to the man in the kitchen, “Junmyeon. I have it on good authority that my fiancé is very fond of all things banana flavoured.” he teases, throwing a look over his shoulder to Chanyeol before all but skipping over to set it down on the counter, all the while allowing him to be roped into helping Junmyeon in the kitchen. Chanyeol wasn’t sure how that was going to work out in Junmyeon’s favour but it’d be he and Jongdae cleaning up the mess if anything did go wrong so he hoped nothing too bad happened. There was only so many times he could explain to Jongdae that you don’t cook rice by just putting the packet into the cooker and hoping for the best.
“What Yixing failed to mention,” Minseok pipes up from behind him, pulling Chanyeol’s attention back to his guests who had just arrived, “is that he managed to get lost and I found him wandering two blocks from here.” Chanyeol feels his eyes slip shut at the familiarity of the tale and a small voice in the back of his head asks what Junmyeon was doing in the first place leaving Yixing to wander around an unfamiliar neighbourhood on his own.
He casts a quick glance over to the kitchen where Junmyeon is shooting a please-don’t-ask-me-to-explain look to Jongdae and Chanyeol sees that he doesn’t quite need to chew his friend out just yet but he’s ready to when and if the time comes. “Well! I’m just glad you’re here now guys!! It’s still pretty chilly at the moment so we’re just going to be having some stew, soju, and beers but it still should be a nice night in!” he announces it with perhaps more vigour than is entirely needed but none of it is faked.
Chanyeol really is as happy as he sounds to have all his friends over. “AND SO THE HOUSEWARMING OF THE PARK/KIM HOUSEHOLD BEGINS!!!” Jongdae’s even louder than he is, though whether that’s a surprise or not is up to the individual guests, given his one and a half years of dating him, Chanyeol has grown fond of the level of noise.
“Here’s to many happy years!!! And maybe a late night singing session from Chanyeol! I love free entertainment!” It’s Kyungsoo speaking this time, raising a glass of soju Chanyeol knows he shouldn’t be drinking this early on in the night but he bites back his objection and throws his hands in the air, unbothered by the lack of alcoholic beverages in his grasp.