Chapter Text
Talking was something that came naturally to Sanha. His parents swore that ever since he was born, he was talking.
(“Even when I was a baby?” he asked his father, swinging from his arms one day.
His father chuckled and swung Sanha higher, earning himself a squeal of delight. “Even as a baby!” his father responded.)
His parents liked to joke that Sanha would talk the ears off of anyone he met, and Sanha always assumed it was true, but then Park Minhyuk moved in next door.
For a while, the space had been occupied by just Myungjun. Sanha remembered the day he moved in, hoisting the boxes up the stairs by himself and looking quite exhausted. Sanha's father was the first one to reach over and grab one of the boxes for him, his uniform still on from a long day of working at the police station. “Let me help you,” Sanha's father offered, and Myungjun's tired eyes grew wide as he looked over the older man.
“I-I've got it!” Myungjun exclaimed, and he tugged the box away from Sanha's father, who stared at Myungjun in confusion. “It's alright, I've got all of-of this.”
But he dropped the box while fumbling with his door, and Sanha heard glass shatter.
His father was back, kneeling down to examine what exactly broke. He had pulled out a picture frame, the glass shards falling around it in pieces, and held it over to Myungjun apologetically. “Is that your family?” he had asked.
Myungjun had burst into tears.
Sanha's parents both took action. Myungjun was invited into their home, despite his insistence that he was fine, and he was seated at the kitchen table, where Sanha watched him curiously.
Myungjun had bags under his eyes and he was incredibly skinny and he kept sniffling. Sanha felt bad for him.
“I have a frame you can put your picture in,” was the first thing Sanha ever said to Myungjun.
Myungjun looked over at him, blinking back his tears, and took a shuddering breath. “You do?”
Sanha nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yeah! I mean, I bought it because I thought it would fit a picture I have, but my mom got me a better one for it.” He stood from his seat and tapped the table. “If you wait right here, I can go grab it, alright?”
And he didn't wait for a response – he had to cheer Myungjun up somehow, and so he hurried off, grabbing his picture frame and stumbling on his race back to the kitchen, where his mother had just set down a plate of cookies in front of Myungjun.
(Myungjun had seemed shocked, as if unaccustomed to such kindness, and Sanha wondered how terrible his life must have been to not even be used to people fawning over him.)
“Here!” Sanha announced proudly, and he carefully stored Myungjun's photo inside the empty frame. “Now it's perfect.” He handed it back, but not without staring at the image for a few seconds. “Is that you as a kid?”
Myungjun swallowed thickly. “Yes.”
“I can tell. You have the same lips and nose.” He plopped back down in his seat and stole one of the cookies off of Myungjun's plate. “Are those two your parents? They look so nice!”
“They are,” Myungjun murmured.
Are. Not were. Which meant his parents were still alive, which Sanha assumed made them a great conversation piece. “You look a lot like your mother, you know! I mean, you two have similar eyes and everything.”
Myungjun stuffed a cookie in his mouth, presumably so he wouldn't have to answer.
“And look how cute you are in this picture! Gosh, I bet your parents are so lucky to have a son like you!”
Apparently, he sucked at cheering people up, because his words did the exact opposite of that. Myungjun began crying again, sobbing as he finished chewing up his cookie, and Sanha's mother hurried back into the room.
“What did you say to him?” she had snapped at Sanha, her eyes brimming with worry for this stranger.
“I didn't – I just told him that his parents are lucky!”
Myungjun was bawling now, shaking his head, and as Sanha's mother hugged him close, he managed to stammer out, “I-I'm the worst son ever, I wish I was de-dead! I wish my par-parents hated me! I-I wish I was ne-never born!”
Sanha stared at Myungjun in shock as this new neighbor cried and cried until he was out of tears. Sanha's mother offered him another cookie, and Myungjun shook his head. He did sip at the milk he had been given, hiccuping into it every so often.
Finally, after an hour or two of Myungjun's unresponsive company, the older boy stood from his seat and bowed deeply to the Yoon family. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, and he clutched his frame close to him as he straightened again. “I won't be like this from now on.”
And he stuck true to his word. The next time he saw Sanha, he smiled nervously. “Sorry about, um, about the other day,” he apologized again. “It's just been rough-”
“It's okay!” Sanha responded brightly, waiting for his mother to exit the apartment as well. “I know how difficult life can be sometimes!”
“It sucks ass, doesn't it?”
Unfortunately, Sanha's mother had chosen that moment to finally close the door behind her, and it was clear that the only thing she heard out of the conversation was it sucks ass. Her lips tightened and she quickly moved to cover Sanha's ears. “Did you hear that?” she asked her son frantically.
Sanha learned it was best sometimes to pretend he was as innocent as she believed him to be, and so he shook his head. “Hear what?” he asked.
Sanha's mom didn't like Myungjun after that. “He's crude!” she would complain when Sanha asked her why she wasn't fond of him. “And he says so many things my Sanha should not be hearing!”
But Sanha didn't care. He liked Myungjun. The more he got to know Myungjun, the more cheerful the elder of the two became, until he was just a mess of laughter and jokes. He was interesting and exuberant and Sanha tried explaining as such to his mother.
“He's like a big brother to me,” he finally mentioned, and his mother looked pained at that.
“You have a big brother, Sanha.”
“He doesn't ever talk to me, though.” Sanha pouted lightly, and then muttered, “He hates me because I'm a magic user, doesn't he?”
Sanha's father cleared his throat before patting Sanha's back. “He'll come around,” the man replied, trying to keep up the cheerful atmosphere. “One day, maybe.”
But his father didn't sound convinced, and so Sanha wasn't going to expect anything. Myungjun filled the void, in any case, even if Sanha's mother became even more wary around him after he came home one night, too drunk to figure out how to unlock his door, and requested that he spend the night on Sanha's bed.
(Sanha's father was left to deal with that, as Sanha's mother complained how terrible of an influence Myungjun was.)
Myungjun never seemed to have any friends, though. In any case, he was the only one who ever entered or exited the apartment, so when Sanha heard the door open one morning, he hurried over to it in excitement, ready to show off the high score he had gotten on an exam. “Hyung!” he exclaimed. “Hyung, look!”
But when the door closed and the man turned around, Sanha realized it wasn't Myungjun. It was someone who looked just slightly younger, yet slightly taller, with brown hair parted down the middle and an amused expression on his face.
“Am I Hyung?” the boy asked, and Sanha lost his breath. He had a deeper voice, yet it was somehow so soft and charming.
(Sanha wondered if he was a witch.)
“N-No...I thought – did Myungjun-hyung move?”
“Myung-? No, he still lives here. I just...I'm his roommate now.” The boy held out a hand and smiled. “I'm Park Minhyuk.”
He had bruises on his cheeks, now that Sanha was staring openly at him, and there was a small cut above his eyebrow. Sanha wondered if this Minhyuk character had gotten in a fight before. Whatever the case, he was waiting for Sanha to shake his hand, but Sanha felt his heart race. This man was gorgeous, handsome and manly and too good for Sanha to even touch probably. Sanha felt his nerves acting up, and he had to escape as quickly as possible, before his magic got the better of him.
So he slammed his door in Minhyuk's face.
From then on, the two hardly spoke. Sanha would try sometimes, but when he did, Minhyuk would strike up a conversation with whoever was closest to him (including, once before, a tree). And sometimes Minhyuk would try to talk to Sanha, but Sanha would dart away hurriedly, his mind refusing himself the chance to make a fool of himself in front of such an amazing person.
At the very least, Sanha's mom liked Minhyuk. “He might make a good impression on Myungjun,” she mused one day as Sanha worked on his homework. “Because goodness knows Myungjun needs it. He's a mess.”
(Sanha decided to hide to his mother that he once witnessed Myungjun dragging home a drunk Minhyuk, and the drunk Minhyuk groped and fondled with Myungjun's butt – Myungjun had simply spotted Sanha and tiredly asked, “Do you want to help me take him to a dump? He belongs there.”)
At the very least, he could thank his lucky stars that neither of them were aware of his magical status. He managed to keep it a secret until the moment Myungjun's boyfriend was revealed to be a witch and Minhyuk was revealed to have a very nice body. Honestly, the witch thing left Sanha's mind the moment Minhyuk came running out of Myungjun's bathroom, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his hair, some of it rolling down his chest as he frantically called out, “Myungjun? Myungjun are you-”
He would have gotten the chance to continue had Sanha not screamed right then. He moved his hands up to cover his eyes as his heart beat frantically in his chest, and in order to hide the fact that he was staring at Minhyuk's abs, he did what he promised his parents he would never do – he shapeshifted in front of three of his neighbors.
They all were amazed, and rightfully so, as his human body disappeared. Fortunately, none of them noticed the little cockroach scurrying across the floor. Sanha moved away from their seeking eyes, wondering just how the heck he was supposed to escape from this mess he had caused. Worry gripped at his heart as he hid underneath the couch. Could he explain this? Could he hurry home and beg his parents to move to England or France or somewhere far away, where no one was aware that he was a magic user?
But Myungjun caught on the moment he was found. And Myungjun comforted him, just as Sanha had tried comforting him all those years ago.
Ultimately, though, the witch broke Myungjun's glasses, and Myungjun was fantastic at pouting, so Minhyuk had to take over the comforting job – which made everything very uncomfortable, honestly.
They sat outside a small convenience store. Minhyuk had bought ramen for the two of them, but neither of them seemed ready to eat.
“I didn't know you were a magic user,” Minhyuk finally commented, but he didn't look up to meet Sanha's stare.
“Yeah,” Sanha murmured quietly. “I wasn't supposed to do that. Sometimes, I just...I can't control it, sometimes, when I get really, really nervous like that.”
Minhyuk cleared his throat. “So, um...was it...?” He gestured to his wet hair and whispered, “Me?”
Could Sanha really claim that Minhyuk made him nervous? He wasn't ready to confess, especially with the knowledge that Minhyuk most likely didn't feel the same way, so he quickly shook his head. “I-It was, um, the whole witch thing, 'cause Myungjun is, um...da-dating a witch. I guess.”
“Oh.” There was slight disappointment in Minhyuk's tone, but before Sanha could wonder why, the older boy continued, “I don't think they're actually dating, though. Not yet, anyway.”
At least the conversation was away from Minhyuk's half-naked body. Sanha could do this. “Do you think they'll start dating?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely. I'm pretty certain there's something already going on, since Jinwoo blushes whenever I mention how close they sit together.” Minhyuk snorted and finally began twirling his chopstick into his noodles. “Myungjun's been pining after him for a while, though.”
“And Myungjun's a necromancer?”
Minhyuk nodded.
“I thought necromancers were evil. Witches, too. But I know Myungjun isn't evil, and his boyfriend doesn't seem evil.” Sanha pondered it for a few seconds before asking, “Did you know that Myungjun was a necromancer?”
“Yeah.” Minhyuk slurped at his noodles before responding, “I grew up with him, back in Jinju. He, um...wasn't well-liked. Everyone knew, and life seriously sucked for him. He didn't even tell me all that went on, but I know it wasn't good. He finally left, because his parents were suffering from his magical powers. Which he's an idiot for, because his parents missed him, and still probably do miss him.”
Sanha couldn't imagine leaving his own parents. He felt pity for Myungjun's mother and father. “When he first moved in,” Sanha muttered, “he cried because a picture frame broke. It was him and his mom and his dad. And he cried again when I mentioned how much they loved him, from what I saw of the picture. He said...he wished he was dead.”
Minhyuk sighed loudly, but he didn't stop eating his noodles.
“I never realized...I mean, I thought maybe he was just a little scared to be in a new place.”
“Part of me thinks he still wishes he wasn't born,” Minhyuk muttered.
Sanha bit down on his bottom lip and stuck one of his chopsticks in his bowl of noodles. “People don't like necromancers, do they?”
“They probably don't like shapeshifters, either.”
Sanha whined out and grabbed the juice box in front of him. “I can't help that, though! And, besides, no one other than my parents and you guys know I'm a shapeshifter! As long as we keep it between ourselves, I won't have people being mean to me, right?”
Minhyuk glanced up from his noodles and shook his head slowly. “I won't tell,” he promised. “And...and you know Myungjun won't, and Jinwoo won't. I mean, they don't have anyone to tell, anyway, I guess, but they'd never let anyone else know. Both of them know what it's like to live in fear.”
Sanha knew far too well. He knew the feeling of his friends discussing magic users after school sometimes, vowing to beat up any they came across, and recruiting him to do the same. He knew the feeling of trying to laugh about those kids that were beat up for their magic, while trying to hide his sympathy and guilt. He knew the feeling of being ashamed for who he was, envying all of the normal people in the world.
And he envied Minhyuk.
“You're...you're normal, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how come you're friends with Myungjun and Myungjun's boyfriend? Most normal people wouldn't get ten feet near a necromancer, and most normal people would probably call the police if they saw a witch.”
Minhyuk swallowed some of his noodles. “While we're on the subject of police,” he started (ignoring Sanha's original question), “don't tell your dad what Jinwoo is, okay? He might be okay with Myungjun being a necromancer, but if he founds out we have a witch living with us, he'd totally freak.”
Sanha wondered if his dad would care. Certainly, he had been told to stay away from witches, but Jinwoo seemed nice and pleasant enough. Surely his dad wouldn't hold so many prejudices against Jinwoo, would he?
But Minhyuk was staring at him with such a serious gaze, and Sanha's cheeks flushed as he looked away and nodded his head. “I won't tell,” he promised.
Minhyuk relaxed. “Good. Jinwoo's a weak witch, anyway. Seriously, all he does is kill flowers, and Myungjun just sits around bringing them back to life. They always joke that Jinwoo sucks at keeping things alive and Myungjun sucks at keeping things dead.”
“Does he bring a lot of stuff back to life?” Sanha asked, slightly in awe of such incredible powers. “Like...has he ever brought a human back to life?”
Minhyuk was biting the inside of his cheek with that question, and Sanha realized it might be a touchy subject. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “You don't have to-”
“Jinwoo.”
“What?” Sanha blinked.
“Jinwoo...he, um-”
“Wait-” Minhyuk didn't even need to say anything else. Suddenly, Sanha understood. “My dad...my dad said – the witch who got killed? That was Jinwoo?” When Minhyuk slowly nodded his head in confirmation, Sanha gasped. “But...but my dad said that the government has the bodies, and the public isn't supposed to know-”
“Just keep up that lie, then,” Minhyuk interrupted nervously, glancing around to ensure no passerbyers were listening into their conversation. “I don't know how the police know, because there was no body. Myungjun just brought him back to life.”
“My dad said that the two detectives told everyone that there was a dead witch, and they called the government.”
“Two...?” Minhyuk blinked, but suddenly he brightened considerably. “Never mind, then, just keep believing what your dad told you!”
“But you just said-”
“Man, I'm full. Might be time to go home now.” Minhyuk stood from his seat quickly, then gestured for Sanha to do the same. “And this all falls on the list of things you will never mention to Myungjun. Never, ever. Got it?”
Even when he was trying to look intimidating, Sanha thought Minhyuk was really cute and handsome. He giggled as he stood and nodded his head. “I won't mention it,” he swore, then placed a hand on his heart. “The secret is safe in here!”
“Good.” Minhyuk grabbed their trash to throw it away, and the two boys began their walk home. Occasional conversation was made, though far more by Sanha than by Minhyuk (he would point up at the stars and wonder how far away they were, he would point out a stray cat and comment on how cute it was, and he would gesture to the nicer, finer apartments they passed and imagine what it would be like to be rich). Minhyuk was a good listener, though – never once did Sanha feel like he was talking to thin air.
He quite liked Minhyuk's company, and by the time they arrived at their respective homes, he didn't really want to part. But Minhyuk was already working on unlocking his own door, after having knocked several times, grumbling about “Myungjun and Jinwoo had better not be kissing and forgetting me out here.” And Sanha just watched, unsure of what to say to end their short time spent together. He supposed apologies were in order, for lying about his identity and also for earlier that day, when he totally looked at Minhyuk when he shouldn't have.
“Got it,” Minhyuk finally said, unlocking his door, and he looked over at Sanha. “Don't beat yourself up too much over the whole shapeshifting thing, because-”
“I'm sorry I looked at you when you were half-naked and kept staring because I liked it!” Sanha blurted out.
Minhyuk's eyes were wide, but Sanha was sure his own eyes were even wider. “Oh my god!” he squeaked, slapping a hand over his mouth. “I'm sorry, I'm-!” He tried his door, and when he found his mother had left it unlocked, he hurried inside, ignoring Minhyuk's small, “Sanha?” as he slammed the door shut behind him.
And then he groaned, running his fingers through his already-messy hair and berating himself completely for acting like such a fool.
(And he also wondered if he could consider their ramen noodle outing as a date – a date that he completely screwed up.)