Archive of Our Own

It first starts when San notices Little Fox’s Bakery making buzz on social media. It quickly trends on naver, instagram and videos keep coming up on San’s tiktok. At first, San thought it was a chain, something from China or Japan, or maybe some rich guy’s kid with a lot of money, a lot of connections and a prowess for baking, opened a new shop and it's just a new trend. That’s all.

Influencers started traveling from all over Seoul when news got out about this bakery, and San couldn’t help but think, what made this one special? Why the popularity? It looks just the same as every other bakery in the city. With its milk breads, cream filled donuts and croissants. It has a cute little designed fox on a purple banner hung outside, its letters written in bubble print on the sign above the glass door.

It’s not even in a luxurious or well used part of town. It’s in an unassuming neighbourhood. Close to Hongjoong’s music store and Seonghwa’s bookshop (that also sells knick knacks, home decor and cute dolls. It’s really just a mix of everything Seonghwa likes under the pretense of a bookshop).

Which leaves San thinking- the owner must be a sorcerer, a magician, a witch or enchantress. 

No ordinary human would just open a bakery in that part of town, the magical beings had worked together and created a set of ruins and spells, ensuring exactly that wouldn’t happen. Magical beings needed their own places too, and that area of the city was theirs. 

Humans can visit, obviously, they just couldn’t stay too long without feeling the ramifications of magic. Humans wouldn’t know why that was, would just slowly develop a feeling of unease over the course of a few days, an instinct telling them to leave, possibly even feeling overcome with nausea and a little sick. Guests and shoppers could easily travel through the shops during the course of the day without any side effects, but working long hours? All day? Everyday? 7 days a week?

Humans didn’t know that magic exists, and they couldn’t know. It was quite literally Part 1, section 3.1 of the Magical Entities International Criminal Code of Conduct. It was a universal code. Everyone knew this.

Humans couldn’t know that magic existed.

And humans couldn’t be interfered with by using magic for personal gain (Part VII, s 196(12)(a)).

The baker was something magical. And that something was setting off warning bells in San’s mind.

Yunho, San’s partner in the crime ward unit of the law enforcement for all magical entities, came in just then, boots muddied and outfit wet from rain. He has half a sugar donut hanging from his mouth, cream filling and part of a strawberry oozing from his lips.

He daintily holds up a cutely wrapped purple box with a fox on it.

“Have you tried that new bakery near Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s place?” He holds the box higher up for San’s view. “The baker just moved back from traveling around the Americas. He’s really nice!”

Warning bells indeed.

San decides to pay the suddenly new hot spot of a bakery a visit after his shift the next day. He gives his daily report to his senior officer, says goodbye to Yunho and takes a drive.

The bakery is tucked away on a small street between two larger shops. The bakery itself is also small, extremely small, and only has two rounded tables to sit at if need be. Otherwise it is just a glass case running from one length of the store to the other, displaying the items for sale.

It clearly works as a takeaway place, another indicator in San’s mind that whoever owns the place is magic and knows the magical social constructs.

Do not keep humans around. Send them away as quickly as possible, the ruins will have an effect on their life force long term.

The line up is dwindling, barely anyone in the shop at this time of night. San stands outside, looking at the banner, looking at the cutely handwritten menu board right in front of the door, pretending to read what the day's specials are.

He eyes the glass entrance, mentally taking notes of the small interior. 

There is a man behind the large glass counters. He is wearing a white apron over his pristine, cream coloured blouse. He has the sleeves rolled up, showing off lean, veiny arms that are gently wrapping something behind the register. He is lost in the work of his job. His fluffy, long dual coloured brown and blond hair is held in a half up, half down style, a small sparkling clip keeping it together. The ends of his hair reach past his shoulders and he smiles widely as he hands a bag of cheese bread to a mother, her small daughter standing tall at her hip nibbling away at some sort of animal shaped bun.

The mother thanks the man behind the counter and the daughter says something as well.

The sound of the laugh the man emits reaches San even from behind the closed entrance door, and it has San’s heart pounding against his chest.

With that sort of effect he has on others, he must be an enchantress, San thinks before taking off without another look.

He can’t help but keep thinking about the man behind the counter over the course of the following week. 

The bakery keeps coming up on his personal tiktok account at night. A popular mukbang youtuber from Ilsan even makes a video talking with the owner, apparently named Jung Wooyoung, who laughs prettily and waves at the camera cutely. He keeps his answers short and succinct given the line of people behind the youtuber who takes up too much time, and being the only employee in the store, he tries his best to keep the youtuber moving but winks and flirts as much as he can to the camera.

Only a month into opening and the bakery is a well established success.

Jung Wooyoung, with his pretty long hair and pristine white clothing with no stains, gives an interview with a local news reporter. He remains charming and funny, however, San finds it shocking how ultimately self-deprecating he is. He says that the bakery is just the newest trend, something exciting, it’ll ease soon. The popularity will fade but he hopes longevity remains, that his regulars stay regulars.

He likes his regulars, they’re all very kind people.

He has a higher pitched voice, though there is a rawness to it. It’s rough around the edges as he tries to hide his Gyeongsang dialect.

It keeps San intrigued and Wooyoung keeps showing up wherever he seems to go online. It’s a tell, San knows. Maybe Wooyoung is spelling his device and those around him, trying to get others from faraway distances to see him, hear him, come to him.

From the videos he sees, may or may not have kept on repeat, Jung Wooyoung has three separate laughs that make San’s chest pound.

One is a breathy squeak that usually has his whole body shaking, grabbing onto whoever is in close proximity as he hides in their shoulder; he has a loud boisterous laugh that endearingly sounds like mockery; the last one, the one San heard the first day that makes his heart race, sounds like a fox.

San finally makes an entrance one evening after his afternoon shift. Even if it’s night, it’s a weekend, so he expects the bakery to be flooded with people.

However he finds himself entirely wrong.

The bakery is completely empty and the owner, the man who constantly shows up on his for you page, is standing out front sweeping the well kept floor.

His one other, seemingly new, employee is behind the till, counting change. He says something and Wooyoung nods, saying something back. 

San watches as the employee takes off his own apron and waves before leaving through the employees only door behind the counter.

It’s only Jung Wooyoung now.  

Jung Wooyoung the possible enchantress, charmer, siren, angel, kitsune-

San sighs, finally entering the bakery.

A bell above the door chirps and Wooyoung looks up at the new customer with a smile. “Welcome,” he says politely as he makes his way back behind the counter, dropping off the broom against the side wall beside the register. He immediately begins wiping the counter with a dry cloth, keeping to himself. His name tag sits proudly on his right side.

Jung Wooyoung.

It’s like the name calls for San. 

San merely nods, uncertain and uncomfortable.

The bakery doesn’t feel… magical. San doesn’t sense any charms, enchantments or spells as he lets his own magic flow through the room, quickly checking. Nothing notable. Nothing interesting.

Either there is no magic, the man hasn’t spelled anything recently or he’s just very good at keeping his magic hidden.

This Jung Wooyoung person could be well renowned in the darker arts, San thinks, could be a master at hiding his magic from others. But San can usually pick up on hints of something darker, intentionally foreboding. It’s why he’s so good at his job. He’s able to pick up on clues and hints, on things others may not see.

He stalks over to the large glass case, looks over the mostly empty shelves at this time of night. The remaining black trays with small crumbs.

Everything is in sections, he notices from the signs.

It starts with the common Korean baked goods; croissants, filled buns, rice cakes, an assortment of donuts and cakes. The middle section is for breads, San notes. The final section is of foreign food, which catches San’s eyes.

“Banana bread. Chocolate zu-zuchi-?” He reads aloud, struggling with the translated words.

The man behind the counter speaks up. “Zucchini.” Wooyoung confirms and then repeats the vegetable name in korean.

San sneers. “You put that into bread?!”

Wooyoung laughs and walks down to the furthest case so that he stands in front of San. “Loaf. It’s kind of like a mix between cake and bread. It’s usually more healthy.”

“That explains the zucchini.”

“You don’t even taste it. The zucchini just helps thicken and moistens the mixture.” Wooyoung explains. “Otherwise it’d be too dry once baked. It’d crumble and wouldn’t taste very good.”

“What’s the white stuff?” San asks, looking at two separate sliced pieces of the loaf. One is filled in the middle with a white layer, while another barely has any of the white filling. It looks more like a sad thin white line.

“It’s coconut.” Wooyoung says, using his hands theatrically, almost excitedly, to explain the following process. “So the loaf is layered: chocolate zucchini mixture on the bottom, the middle thinner layer is a coconut mix and then you top it with the remainder of the chocolate zucchini. The coconut spreads out during baking so not every sliced piece is even.” Wooyoung laughs, scratching the back of his neck. “Some people like the coconut, some people don’t and just want the chocolate. Which is why both are out, otherwise I’d chuck the more chocolate ones and keep the pieces that have thicker layers of coconut. They’re way more pretty.”

San moves lower to the bottom shelf, which is mostly muffins at this time of night. There are large and small sized assortments. White sourcream muffins with blueberries or raspberries with a crumble topping. Ham and cheese muffins that look oozing with sharp cheddar cheese. There are- he narrows his eyes in confusion. “Why do you have two different types of chocolate chip muffins?”

“They’re two different recipes.”

“I see that.” San chirps. “Why?”

Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders. “I like both. My preference depends on the day. Same with my customers.” He explains with a sly grin.

“What are the differences, y’know, besides the size?”

Wooyoung hums. “The large one is your most common chocolate chip muffin. Mushed brown bananas. Sometimes I freeze them first. Chocolate chips. Flour. People like the large size for something like this, and then I add the dark chocolate topping just for something extra.”

“And the small ones?”

“I add graham cracker crumbs.” Wooyoung explains, staring at San from underneath his fallen bangs. San feels a blush rise from his cheeks from the look Wooyoung gives him. “Changes the texture and taste. But the recipe doesn’t work well with my large pans; it burns the graham crumbs too easily and sours the taste. So smaller they shall remain.”

San clears his throat and looks to the top shelf, filled with the remaining cookies of the day. Like everything else, most trays are empty and only the signs in front remain.

“What cookies are your favourite?” He asks.

Wooyoung leans back, looking over the mostly empty trays as he thinks. He points to a tray that have only a few brown cookies remaining. “I like the peanut butter with the kiss in the middle. But the ginger is also good.” He points to the ginger cookies just beside the peanut butter ones but then points to the furthest, most empty yet largest tray. “Our most popular is the short bread though.” Wooyoung smiles. “I honestly could have just sold shortbread and I think I’d be doing equally as fine."

“I don’t think I've ever had shortbread.” San thinks out loud.

“How unfortunate.” Wooyoung says, voice lowering into something a little flirtatious. “That just means you’ll have to actually come inside the store earlier before they’re all gone. ” He winks and San sputters in his spot. 

“I don’t-”

“You’re Yunho’s partner, right?” Wooyoung asks. “You work together in the- uhh, what was it, criminal ward unit?”

San sighs loudly, fists clenching at his side. “I-... yah.” He huffs. “It’s under the Bureau of Investigation.”

“How is it, working there?” Wooyoung asks, keeping conversation going. “My Dad used to work for the SF of Magical Entities.”

“Oh shit, special forces?!” San asks with a bit of a laugh. “I’ve heard stories from there.”

Wooyoung nods, smiling. “A notable experience, from what I remember. Definitely always had something going on. Someone or something mad about who knows what. Threats.” He gestures vaguely. Wooyoung then lets his eyes wander back to San.

“What was your name? Yunho only ever mentioned his work partner in passing, said you kept coming by to visit but that I needed to let him know once you finally came in.” He says cheekily, a small, kind smile on his face. 

San feels his shoulder fold, slightly embarrassed. “San. Choi San."

“Well, Choi San, I’m glad you finally decided on coming to visit Little Fox's Bakery. You’ve been mucking around outside for so long now, I was wondering if there were goblins running around wreaking havoc.”

San laughs. “Luckily no goblins in Korea. Just need to worry about the dokkaebi.” Wooyoung widens his eyes dramatically. “Ahhhh yes, how could I forget about those pests.”

San smiles too, but finds himself staring at the pretty man with the long dual coloured hair before looking back at the baked goods. He hears Wooyoung shuffling around, a plastic bag being opened and notices Wooyoung putting on a pair of gloves. He opens the glass case and uses the tongs to take out the few remaining cookies into the plastic bag. He also brings out one of the pieces of zucchini loaf and places it into a small box.

San remains in shock when Wooyoung holds both over the counter, smiling and blinking at San from behind the glass case.

“Next time Yunho-ah comes in, I’ll make sure to add extra shortbread for him to give to you.” He tilts his head back in thought. “I think he has an order tomorrow actually.” 

San lets his mouth hang open. Wooyoung shakes the bag and San immediately takes them from his hand. “Uhh,” he starts in confusion. “How much?”

Wooyoung waves him off. “On the house.”

“But-”

“It’s closing time anyway,” Wooyoung explains. “These sorts of things will be thrown out after you leave. May as well give them away to someone as cute as yourself.”

San splutters.

“Think of it as a congratulations.” Wooyoung says easily. “For finally coming in after weeks of staying outside in fear of little old me."

San nods, choking on his own words. His blush rises and he bows his thanks as he quickly leaves the store.

He hears Wooyoung loudly yelling from behind him, “come again, Choi San!”

San finds that while he likes the peanut butter cookies with the chocolate kiss in the middle, finds that the more savory taste of the peanut butter really goes well with the sweetness of the chocolate kiss, he actually prefers the ginger cookie.

He also realizes he loves the taste of the coconut filling around the perfectly cooked chocolate vegetable loaf cake thing. The slightly hardened edge of the top is his favourite part, and he doesn’t even taste the zucchini. And, like Wooyoung mentioned, the loaf is moist, not even close to dry and crumbly.

Perfectly cooked and even throughout the entire slice.

San comes to one conclusion: he is certain Jung Wooyoung is doing something to his baking.

It’s just too damn good for it not to have been magicked.

San adheres to Wooyoung’s advice, noting to come again. And he does. 

Often.

He suddenly finds himself spending most of his free time at the bakery. 

Investigating. 

Only.

He finds himself in frequent conversation with Wooyoung and Choi Jongho, Wooyoung’s younger employee. 

When the lines are long, he leaves and ends up spending time with Hongjoong or Seonghwa just down the street. At first they don’t say anything about his sudden constant appearances, but their sly smiles tell him all he needs to know.

“I’m just investigating.”

“And what are you expecting to find?” Seonghwa asks, folding a blanket and righting a candle on the oval table near the entrance. For being a so-called bookstore, the shop is really just filled to the brim with weird, homey knick knacks.

“I think he’s spelling something into his baking.” San assesses. “No magical being just becomes an overnight sensation without doing something illegal.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Usually I’d agree with you on that, but I don’t see it this time. I haven’t felt any negative intentions coming from him, and there’s just something about him that I find innocently intriguing. He’s trying his best. He’s like a torch, bringing light to darkened areas. We’ve been needing someone like that in the area for a while now, so do not scare him off, Choi San.”

“Yeah, hyung, but that something intriguing is called magic!”

“No, San.” Seonghwa shakes his head. “You don’t need to have magic to be a kind person.”

Hongjoong is less easy to throw off.

“Why are you constantly here?” The gray wizard begs the question as he reads his emails over the counter. His shadow is thrown behind him, equally unamused and dramatic. He has a purple package of cake pops beside him, and he mouths over one covered in white chocolate and sprinkles.

“I’m investigating.”

Hongjoong sees through his bullshit.

“Is this an assigned or personal investigation?”

San shuffles in his spot. “Hyung- ” he whines.

“He’s not doing anything. Leave him be.” Hongjoong says. “He’s had it rough and needs support. He doesn’t need you hovering over his shoulder.” He looks at San, up and down, the cake pop in his mouth the ultimate form of judgment. “It’s creepy.”

“But I’m certain-”

“No, you’re interested.” He chides.

San scoffs. “In what?!”

“In getting your dick wet. He has a nice ass and a cute laugh. He’s exactly your type!”

“He is not! ”

Over the course of the next two months, here is a list of things San slowly learns about Jung Wooyoung:

He is 28, only a couple months younger than San. He just moved back from traveling around the world for three years, having left everything behind, including a long term boyfriend and a nice condo in a better part of Seoul. He does not go into detail about said long term boyfriend beyond the fact that they are definitely exes.

He likes baking though he prefers cooking, however restaurants are too stressful for him so he decided to open a bakery instead. He has a couple of recipes he’s been trying that he wants to sell, but they aren’t perfect yet so they haven’t made their way to his counters.

San may or may not have slowly become his newest taste tester, having naturally become another chattel in the bakery after closings. He finds himself at the bakery much too often, which Wooyoung forever appreciates whenever the long haired man forces a new batch of his baking down San's throat.

San vehemently denies that the new recipes aren’t ready to be sold.

However, Wooyoung, the turtle chocolate brownies are better with pecans rather than with walnuts. San likes the cinnamon swirl loaf with a crumble topping rather than an icing sugar glaze. 

The carrot cake with pineapple chunks is, like everything else, already perfect, and the cream cheese icing doesn’t need anything else added to it to make it special. No, stop adding orange or lemon zest on top, Wooyoung, the cake doesn’t need it. 

With every free taste test that Wooyoung tries out on him, San tries his hardest to see if he can pick up hints of charms or enchantments, of spells or dark magic, but just finds himself licking his lips from the sugary sweets. Nothing more.

The more time spent together, the more San learns.

Wooyoung, luckily, is a talker. He appears as an extrovert but honestly once he goes home he hermits in bed and hopes to never speak again. He needs alone time to recover energy. This surprises San.

Wooyoung learned most of his baking skills from multiple Mom and Pop shops in Canada and the US, his favorite being a cafe bakery in a small town in the western mountains, that he lived in during one hot summer. He still writes to that family often and talks about them fondly.

San learns that Wooyung’s Mother used to be a baker. She used to call Wooyoung her Little Fox.

San also learns that Wooyoung almost called the bakery Eomma’s Bakery in memorium for his late mother, who, coincidentally, passed away three years ago, prompting Wooyoung to pursue his travels. Running away was more like it, Wooyoung had said with a sad laugh over coffee and a piece of flax loaf.

Wooyoung is in fact a witch, but doesn’t detail what kind, though notes that he takes after his Mother. His two brothers take after their Father, the rest of the family being well known sorcerers. His Father is currently working on some investigation in Africa with his little brother, while his older brother along with his wife, an enchantress, are studying in Wales. 

Wooyoung reminiscences about them over tea, saying how his older brother has always been more interested in Celtic magic. With his wife being an enchantress, being so close to Ireland, the Middle East and North Africa, she has learned a handful of spells, even starting to write her own grimoire for their soon to be coven. Their travels have only been an overwhelmingly positive experience. While he misses his family, Wooyoung is glad they are where they should be.

Wooyoung also, self-deprecatingly admits, that his family seems to have found their foothold while he’s still looking for his own, his place in the world, using up the time he has baking and cooking instead.

He shoves another tart, another piece of matcha bread, more coffee into San’s mouth and San keeps having to admit that that he finds himself enjoying his time with Wooyoung.

A little too much until he remembers the sole purpose of his visits: Wooyoung's baked goods are just too.damn.good.

Too damn addicting.

The shortbread melts perfectly in his mouth every single time. There hasn’t ever been a single flaw.

Each night he leaves, San is just a little more certain he’s adding something to his list of ingredients. Perhaps even a spell to his stove to save it from overcooking or undercooking, which may bleed into the baked items and cause cross contamination to humans and magical beings alike, having them absorb his magic and only want more (which, while not exactly a crime, intention would need to be proven, is discussed in the Magical Entities International Code of Conduct, Part XV, section 5(a)(ii)).

Allurements, chants, aphrodisiacs, something!

But every taste, every nibble on a red bean bun or cinnamon stick is notably magicless. Wooyoung doesn’t appear to be using his kitchen as an altar.

It’s infuriating. 

“You’re just being paranoid.” Hongjoong huffs, munching on a chocolate croissant.

He’s walking along the river with his roommate, Yeosang, a Fae, inspecting his latest box of taste testing goods from Little Fox's Bakery.

Yeosang is tired and over his friend’s latest obsession.

As is Yunho and his boyfriend, Mingi, a shapeshifter, who are well ahead of them in their walk to a korean fried chicken place. They left Yeosang in the dust the moment San started spouting off his theories.

Again.

“He’s enchanting his baked goods!”

“He isn’t.” Yeosang says.

“It’s illegal!”

“Have you considered the possibility that you just really like his lemon blueberry muffins?” Yeosang asks.

San sneers, licking the crumble topping from his fingers. “Preposterous.”

They're on the precipice of an incoming storm when Wooyoung receives mail.

It’s from some sort of brown eagle, obviously coming from someone magical as the carrier only shows its face the moment the shop closes and only Wooyoung, San, Yeosang and Jongho (still Wooyoung’s only other employee) remain. It knocks on the locked door with its beak and both Yeosang and Jongho jump at the sudden noise, bumping into each other. They both go to catch the other, eyeing each other in concern but quickly turn away in embarrassment when they realize everything is fine and they simply overreacted. San can hear Wooyoung sighing at their behaviour.

With San visiting the bakery so often, Yeosang has started to join him, and with Yeosang joining him, it has caused quite a stir between Wooyoung’s only employee and the clientele.

Jongho and Yeosang have become oddly comfortable as of late, Jongho often asking Yeosang about being a Fae, very interested in his lifestyle and culture. Noticing the simmering flirtations, Wooyoung planned this evening out with all of them together, knowing that Jongho wouldn’t have the guts to ask Yeosang to hang out alone otherwise. San eyes the awkward duo before he goes to the door and unlocks it.

Wooyoung is still behind the counter, counting the till and tips for the day. He only looks up when the brown eagle waddles in, fluttering its wings to flicker off the rain it flew through. The animal shakes itself, right beside San. The man yells out in surprise at the sudden cold, swearing loudly, and immediately takes a grievance towards the creature as it sprays him with water. It ignores him entirely, doesn’t even look at San as it elongates its lengthy wingspan to fly up and perch itself right along the counter near Wooyoung. It drops the perfectly kept letter from underneath its wing, grabbing Wooyoung’s attention. It’s a single white envelope that only says Wooyoung’s name in wet, black ink.

Wooyoung perks up immediately from counting when he sees the envelope, tearing it open instantly. He begins reading as he rubs the bird on its head. The bird visibly softens and lets out a little happy sound.

San nearly huffs. The bird quite likes Wooyoung.

The sudden happy interest drains from the younger man’s face as he frowns, the mood shifting through the bakery immediately.

Worried, San walks over to the counter, eyeing the bird that immediately turns its beedie little hungry eyes towards him.

Like San is prey that it wants to eat.

San backs up a full foot and clears his throat. “All good?” He asks.

Wooyoung comes back to himself at San’s words, looking up at San questioningly before looking at the letter, and then back at San. “Oh,” he mumbles, trying to smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”  He doesn’t write anything back, only offers the eagle a treat and pats him on his back, letting the carrier know it may leave. He returns the letter and the eagle tucks it back under its wing before it spreads its wings again, ready to fly.

Jongho swings the door open just as the bird takes off, its form gone in seconds. Jongho is left in a surprised daze from how he could feel the wind hit his face as the bird flew passed him. He quickly closes the door and locks it again, turning back to his boss. “Jesus- all good, hyung?”

Wooyoung nods. “Yeah, it’s just my Dad, from Africa. He said a while ago that he might return home with my little brother soon, for a short trip, but it looks like his work was extended so I won’t be seeing him.” He smiles but San notices the slight grimace behind his pretty eyes.

“Wasn’t he supposed to be here in a few days?” Jongho asks. “It’s why we’re closed next-”

Wooyoung cuts him off with a forceful close of the cash register. He continues to smile and waves them off as he grabs his coat. “Yah, he won’t be making it. It’s fine though.” He opens the employee only door behind the counter, facing the group. “Still good for beers?”

A few days later, Wooyoung suddenly needs to call in sick, stay away from the bakery for a day. Instead of closing and worried about canceling their daily orders, Jongho offers to handle the store throughout the day.

It’s luckily, for the popular, still very much trending bakery, a slow day.

Seoul has been hit with storms and barrels of rain, luckily narrowly missing floods, so everyone is trying to stay in as much as they feasibly can.

San finds himself, as usual, at the bakery. Across town. A full drive and a bridge away from the warmth of his home in the terrible weather. 

“He’s not here.” Jongho says the moment San enters the establishment. “He’s home sick.” San sighs, intending to walk directly back out into the rain but a passing lightning strike stops him in his tracks. 

“Best you stay here ‘till it passes. There won’t be many customers today and this part of the storm will be done in 15 minutes or so. You can visit Wooyoung then.” Jongho states from behind the counter. San rolls his eyes.

Divinators: knows all, sees all. And Jongho has the arrogance and the ego to make sure everyone knows it too.

San, like Jongho, is partial to divination. He’s able to figure things out, somehow always knows something before it comes true. But less like Jongho who has literal visions and can draw magic from the earth's core, to use whenever and however he pleases, San is more instinctual, a guttural feeling rather than a full vision, and it’s usually drawn from the moon or other astrological happenings. Every other year when Earth aligns with Mars is when San’s own magical prowess is the strongest.

It helps that Seonghwa and Yunho are also astrological based with their own sources of magic. It can be infuriating, drawing a power source from something as flimsy as the moon, who only shows her full face once a month when she feels like it, clouds and natural weather issues dependent. 

Seonghwa doesn’t seem to have any issues with this, believes the gradual build in power each month are like waves and only furthers his appreciation for his own magic, while San loses his patience much too easily. The days after a full moon when San’s magic is barely there, makes it feel like something is missing, like something is wrong. It fills him with a paranoia that he has never been able to suspend. He wishes his magic were more stable, always there.

He wishes, as well, that he didn’t feel too much during the height of his power. So close to the full moon, like now, his magic is like static underneath his skin, something he has never been able to control, a buzzing that takes up part of his brain. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just there, powerful and needy and attention seeking.

He’s learned to ignore it, but it’s annoying, the changes in his body he is unable to control.

“Visit Wooyoung?” He asks finally, repeating Jongho’s words.

Jongho hums, staring down at his phone. “That’s what you came here for, right? To see Wooyoungie? And since he’s home sick, you can do me a favor and drop off the soup Seonghwa-hyung prepared for him. I won’t be leaving until later anyways. Yeosang promised to pick me up because of the storm.”

“Is it annoying, constantly feeling the need to see the future?” San chides as he can feel Jongho slyly drawing magic from the floorboards as he spoke, could see visions of what was going to happen to San in the next couple of hours as he easily talked conversationally, pretending to do nothing but read messages on his phone.

Jongho laughs. “Fine,” he raises his hands into the air, stopping himself from seeing visions. “I concur. I’ll stop.”

“Thanks,” San says. It leaves him feeling prickly, having Jongho draw magic so close to him so near to a full moon.

San spells an empty chair open from underneath an unused table and thumps down on it uncomfortably. He shuffles his thumbs together in his seat.

He stares outside at the torrential downpour of rain. Maybe Seonghwa was in his shop. Though if he dropped off soup for Wooyoung then perhaps he was away-

“He’s not doing anything illegal, you know.” Jongho says, eyes finally on San.

San feels himself straighten. “I- uhh-”

“That’s what brought you here, right? The first few times? Because he’s a witch that became popular on social media super quickly?”

“Uhh- it- that caused a few red flags, yeah.”

“Fair.” Jongho nods. “But honestly I think it was luck of the draw. He opened up this place and some famous person came by due to chance, I think she was just lost and hungry, and it became a trend. He didn’t do anything. He just has a weird variety of food that appeals to the populace.”

San turns to look at Jongho, throwing his arm to lay against the back of the chair.

“But,” San starts intelligently. He waves his hand towards the counters full of various baked goods. “Everything he sells is- it’s perfect! Concerningly so. And as you said, there's so much variety. And he’s one person. There’s no way he does all this without magic. I have a reason to believe that he may be incorrectly using magic, gaining customers through a source of addictive materials and forcing clientele to come back.”

Jongho sighs incredulously. “I think you’re the only one who thinks his stuff is flawless.”

“It is.”

“That pie he made last week was disgusting.”

San gapes in astonishment. How dare- “It was not!”

“It was.” Jongho deadpans.

“It-”

Jongho immediately cuts him off. “Buuuuut, I also don't believe it’s completely without magic. Isn’t that nearly impossible to live as a witch without using magic at all? For a whole day? In this part of town?” Jongho thinks out loud.

“Aha!”

“No ‘aha!’” Jongho continues, ignoring San, “if he uses magic, it's more for like- it’s the normal, allowed kind. He doesn’t like getting his clothes dirty so he spells his apron and shirts clean. He makes it so stains don’t ruin his clothes.”

San had noticed that... 

“Or like, if he was icing a cake and a customer came in but he forgot to wash his hands before putting on gloves and tonging their item into a bag, I’ve seen him spell his hands clean, but that doesn’t have any cross contamination or side effects on humans since its not skin to skin or even skin to food. He’s not doing anything to ensure he keeps a customer base here. If and when magic is used, it's purely for his or his client’s own safety, kind of like you spelling that chair to move for you to sit more easily when no one else is around.”

San humphs but listens to Jongho speak. 

“He’s not doing anything against the international criminal code or what the full name is. His Dad had that hammered into his skull at the age of 5. I think he’s actually terrified of doing something like that even by accident....”

“But- he’s such a good baker?!”

Jongho offers him a pathetic glance, nearly pitiful. “He’s really not. You should see how many items we throw out in the morning because the edges burnt or were underbaked.” Jongho laughs with a huff. “We have a hotspot in the oven and he takes that into account. He knows his kitchen, and the only things he sells are the perfect ones. Trust me, the garbage bags outback prove that.”

“But-”

“And we have a rotating baking schedule. Most things have a couple day shelf life. So yes, there is a variety, it’s just that some things don't need to be baked fresh daily.”

“What about-”

“Baking, the kitchen, food- this isn’t even his source of magic.” Jongho admits, effectively shutting San up. “He’d waste it here if he were to use it the way you’re insinuating. There’s no point.”

“What is his source of magic?” San finds himself asking.

Jongho sighs loudly. He brings out a linen bag tied at the top with a little note. San recognizes the writing to be Seonghwa’s.

“Why don’t you go ask him.” Jongho points to the door, the rain slowing to a putter. “Looks like the storm has passed for now.”

San walks to the address that Jongho put into his phone’s map. It’s only a short distance away, however with the large puddles of water and pittering of rain and cold air, it’s still less than pleasant. He keeps the bowl of soup tucked against his chest, trying to magic it warm. So close to the full moon, it’s nice to have something to flow his magic towards. Usually he spells it to his reports or when he's out on location, scouting and needing to track down any suspicious activity.

He holds his umbrella above his head as he reaches the small apartment block. 

Now that he’s here, he feels uncomfortable. He’s intruding. If Wooyoung is sick, he probably doesn’t want company. 

That’s fine. Just- drop off the soup. Get in, get out quickly. Easy.

Before he can talk himself out of anything, he shakes off his umbrella and dials in the unit number Jongho gave him. The buzzer rings three times before a tired Wooyoung speaks through the phone. 

“Hello?” The other man croaks and San feels a tugging against his chest.

“Uh, hi Wooyoung, it’s San? We heard you were sick and Seonghwa-hyung made some soup and I was told to-” he hears a small, almost sad, chuckle before the phone clicks off. He stands frozen for a second before the buzzer beeps, indicating the door being unlocked.

Confused, San makes his way through the doors, walking up the stairs to Wooyoung’s unit.

Just as he’s about to knock, a little awkwardly with the soup and the wet umbrella in his hands, Wooyoung opens the door.

He looks disheveled, tired and pale. San doesn’t feel anything sick coming from him, just drained if the puffy black circles around his red eyes are an indicator. His hair isn’t brushed or up in its usual half do. He’s wearing sweats and a large baggy hoodie.

He smiles, solemnly, as he rests against the doorway. He doesn’t seem surprised that San is here.

San lifts the bag of soup to his view, concern obvious on his features. “For you?”

Wooyoung nods, moving to open the door wider. “Come in,” he rasps, voice breaking, sounding as though he’d been crying.

Wooyoung puts his hands into the hoodie’s front pocket as he moves to leave the entryway and back into his home. “Jongho texted saying that you were on your way.” San follows. He tugs off his shoes and places his umbrella into the holder by the door before fully entering Wooyoung’s apartment.

It’s-

San’s magic instantly picks up, sizzling happily underneath his skin. It’s an odd sensation, bringing his power to the forefront of himself but easing the annoyance he usually feels. He- this feels calming. This is easy.

its almost meditative.

The apartment, though small, is filled to the brim with plants. Large monsteras and snake plants eat over the entrance ways. The multiple pathos have anchored themselves and run along every wall, their leaves green, wide and happy.

There’s a fern in the corner that seems to wave at San as he enters. Vines dangle from the ceiling, an array of colourful flowers flutter their petals, and there's a few ripe tomato plants that catch San’s eyes.

It smells beautiful, warm and ultimately alive. The apartment breathes on its own.

The plants are interested in San, their leaves turning towards his person in intrigue. Though, San can tell, even amongst their interest in him their concern for their own witch is stronger.

Wooyoung sits on the loveseat in the living room, a blanket covering his shoulders as he sniffles.

There is a potted cactus plant in his hands, wilted, browning and sad.

A few large vines drop from the ceiling and nudge at San’s hands. He blinks before gratefully passing the bag of soup to the vines who take it and move it to the kitchen table.

He is left standing alone, staring at Wooyoung who is staring at the cactus plant.

“Are you-”

“It’s a schlumbergera.” Wooyoung says, sniffling a bit more. “Or christmas cactus.”

San moves so he sits on the other side of the loveseat, careful not to hit any of the worried plants.

“It’s dying, San. And I can’t save it.” Wooyoung admits, lips parting as if he’s about to sob. San reaches for Wooyoung’s hand against the pot, rubbing his thumb over the skin of Wooyoung’s wrist. “I keep trying to use my magic to heal it but it won’t let me help. It won’t let me save it.”

“You’re a green witch.” San hums, staring at Wooyoung who only nods. The younger man takes his other hand and rubs his eyes, wiping them from the oncoming tears. “I- I am. S-same as my Mom.” 

Wooyoung’s magic grew strength from plants. Green witches held an affinity to nature, and were usually great herbalists and healers, knowing what to take and what not from their sources. They spoke with plants, understood the Earth and it’s living things in the same way Wooyoung would never understand the Moon, and Planets, the same way San would never understand Hongjoong’s shadows. Each magical being had their element, their own understanding and knowledge that could never be grasped by others.

San notices that the flowers seem to shiver while the fern wilts at the mention of Wooyoung’s late mother.

Wooyoung pats the cactus plant’s pot. “This was hers.” He says, holding the pot closer to his chest, as if he’s trying to warm it with his weakening magic. “They usually last for decades, can be passed on from generation to generation but this one, this strain, it was my Mother’s. She found it at some market and brought it back to health when she was young and it stayed in the family ever since.” He sniffles again, voice wavering. San presses his hand more harshly against Wooyoung, offering his support. “But since she passed away a few years ago, it’s been- it's been struggling. It grew used to my Mother’s magic. A-and, while I am also a green witch, I am not my Mother. My magic doesn’t feel the same and it misses her. I traveled with it as much as I could to keep its mind off of things but it’s been missing her and it- it just, it doesn’t want to continue. I know it's old, it keeps telling me it's old. A-and I’ve been trying to nurture it, make it feel better but it wants to go, Sannie, and it keeps apologizing saying that it's time, it’s okay, but I- I don’t-”

“You don’t want to let something from your Mother go.” San picks up. Wooyoung is crying now, brushing the tears from his wet face. “It’s a living thing my Mother left with me, and I failed her-”

One of the leaves of the cactus shakes a little at Wooyoung’s words, seemingly trying to offer him peace. 

Wooyoung catches on a harsh breath. The cactus shakes a bit more before wilting, having used up the remainder of its energy.

“It says it’s old. It’s too old. My Mother’s magic kept it alive but it’s time now and I have to accept-”

“Wooyoung,” San says softly, bringing Wooyoung’s tearful attention to him. Wooyoung bites his lip and shuts himself up, looking at San.

“If it says its time, if it feels like it’s lived through its years happily and fondly, but now it's time for it to depart from this world, we have to listen to it.” San sighs. “We can’t keep something living longer than it should purely for our own selfish desires.” 

Wooyoung’s shoulders shake. “But this was my Mother’s...”

“And just like you, it loves your Mother. And it’s time for it to go be with her.”

Wooyoung breathes in a harsh breath. He removes his hand from under San’s and nods sadly. 

Sighing loudly and preparing himself, he brings the pot to his forehead and closes his eyes, more tears dripping down his puffy cheeks. The wilted, old leaves move as much as they can with their little energy remaining. The long strains of cacti pet at Wooyoung's face and Wooyoung huffs in a laugh. He breathes in once more and San can feel Wooyoung cast a desperate, small spell against the pot.

It’s immediate, how quickly it goes. 

The cactus’ leaves shake one last time before wilting forward. Wooyoung suppresses a sob and San swears he can see the soil grow lighter as the soul of the plant leaves, no longer using the nutrients.

The room grows a little cold under Wooyoung’s magic, his emotions changing along with the spell.

He drops the pot to his lap, looking eerily calm though much more pale. 

San isn’t sure of his place but he’s always moved on instinct, seemingly knowing what to do.

Partial divination and all.

San shuffles to sit closer beside Wooyoung, and throws his arm over the witch’s shoulder. Wooyoung immediately melts into his side, laying his head against his shoulder.

“I wish it didn’t hurt so much to let something go.” He rasps out eventually. San holds him, trying to press his own magic to Wooyoung, keep him warm. For such a small spell, it seems to have zapped his energy, though his overwhelming emotions had probably already drained him.

“I know.” He just holds him, hoping that it's enough.

Later that evening, San heats up the soup while the storm has returned and only grows more erratic. “You can stay the night.” Wooyoung offers, noticing the flashes of lightning outside. His face is still puffy and red from his earlier breakdown. He has moved the cactus to a corner of the room for now. He’ll properly take care of the roots and leaves after the storm has passed. “I hope floods don’t occur.” He sighs into his hand. He sits at the table, holding his arms around his perched knees, letting them dig against the edge of the table. San spoons him a bowl of warm soup and quickly serves it. He sets himself a bowl and sits down beside the witch, watching him, taking him in.

A loud strike of thunder shakes the room and the plants seem less than pleased at the disturbance. San swears the dramatic fern huffs at the sounds of the storm. The monstera just seems angry.

“If that’s okay with you.” San says, spooning his own soup. He doesn't exactly have a strong desire to drive over the bridge in this weather. 

He breathes against the steam of the hot liquid and slurps at it. Seonghwa, like Wooyoung, could be an enchanter with how good his food is. San nearly has to bite back a moan on the first bite.

San notices how Wooyoung remains unmoving, continuing to only stare outside.

“You should try some.” San tries to lighten the mood. “It’s really good. Not as good as your baking but that’s nearly an impossible feat to achieve.”

Wooyoung shifts at that, smiling just a bit. He moves to grab the spoon and dips it into the soup. It’s all very robotic and monotonous, so much unlike the life he usually brings anywhere he goes.

They slurp at their soups and San tugs at some noodles, while Wooyoung picks at a piece of bean sprout here and there.

San starts again, keeping his eyes on the other. “You know,” he says finally. “When I first heard of you, I thought you were charming your food or something illicit like that.” Wooyoung turns to San. He looks like he’s barely there, barely present. His eyes are far away and dazed from his earlier tears.

Worried, San sweeps his magic through the room, trying to offer a sense of calming. Wooyoung noticeably feels it, takes it in and sighs, letting San’s magic run through him. “What- uhh, what made you think that?” Wooyoung finally asks, dipping his spoon into the bowl again. He runs the metal around the rim, through the liquid, but doesn’t take a bite.

“You were- you were this-” San struggles to find words. “Enigma of a person, I guess?” He thinks out loud. “Everyone only had wonderful things to say about you, and given the area, it was obvious you had some magical abilities.”

Wooyoung nods in understanding.

“But I hadn’t heard of you before. You just showed up one day, out of nowhere, and all of a sudden my social media is a number one Jung Wooyoung fan page.” Wooyoung laughs a little at that, biting his lip to quiet himself.

San waves him off. “No, seriously, you don’t understand. You were everywhere! On tiktok, on instagram, the news, youtube! I couldn’t not see you. And then my friends got to know you and Yunho, being the trendy person he is, went to your store and fell in love with your doughnuts. It’s just- it’s weird for a magical being to get so much attention in so little time.”

Wooyoung smiles. “You know your social media accounts are algorithm based, right?” He says, voice still raw and quiet. San offers a look of confusion and Wooyoung takes a sip of the soup. “It means that my magic had nothing to do with it.”

“What are you-”

“It means you were probably looking me up and then your socials reflected that, so I kept appearing.”

“But the news reporter!”

“Was on a weird channel at 4am that no one watches.”

“I watch it!”

Wooyoung laughs, the cute embarrassed squeak he does. “Obviously. Since you're the only person I know who saw it.” He says with a smirk.

San huffs. “Don’t tease me.”

“But you’re so cute to tease.” He says easily, voice low, and San feels that familiar heated flush reach his cheeks. He stares back down at the soup, swishing his spoon through it.

“I guess… I was just wanting to apologize. For judging you. And inspecting you for possible crimes.”

At this Wooyoung does laugh, loudly and heartily and fox-like and San is nearly taken aback. “I knew you were doing something like that. I knew it! I had a feeling. It was like my Dad going through my room when he thought I was up to no good as a kid. ” He chuckles, shaking his head. “But obviously, just like when I was a kid,“ he lifts his hands into the air, palms forward, “I have not committed any crimes. No charms, no enchantments, no spells that could possibly contaminate humans or any other magical beings.” He promises. “I am a healer who works in the art of plants.”

He laughs and then looks at his soup, biting his lip with a shake to his head. “I'm actually shit at charms and enchantments. Failed that course, honestly. But spells to heal burned hands from commercial grade ovens? Phenomenal. 1st person you should ever ask to unburn your partially wounded fingers.”

San cheekily grins. “Your baking was also just too good. I swore you magicked it to keep it perfect or something.”

Wooyoung hums with a raise to his brows. “I am amazing at my job.” He says with a wink. San has to agree.

Wooyoung settles and returns his attention to his soup. They’re quiet again until they’re not. “I should also apologize.” It's Wooyoung this time, breaking the silence. He speaks up suddenly and San looks at him as he sips up a noodle. He arches a brow instead of humming a question with his mouth full.

“For today.” Wooyoung admits. “For you having to see me like that.”

“Wooyoung, you don’t ever have to-”

“I get attached…” Wooyoung interrupts, explaining it quickly. “To my plants. And last night most of them weren’t doing well with the storm so I used my magic to calm them down, but I used too much and drained myself. I ended up passing out and hitting my head. It distressed them.”

San feels himself gape. “Wooyoung-” 

“A-and then this morning I just- I knew today was the day for my Mother’s cactus. It had been coming for a while now but it just hit all at once. Luckily Jongho had a vision and knew what was going on, and messaged me saying he could take care of the shop, no worries. We had orders this morning and we’re closed tomorrow so- I’ll have to thank him later...” He sniffles, turning away from San, embarrassed he’s about to fall apart again. 

“I just, today was overwhelming with everything and I drained myself to make sure they were okay. I’m sorry if I worried anyone, and I am sorry that you saw me like that. It was unfair of me to put you into that position.”

San shakes his head, reaching for Wooyoung’s hand. “Never apologize for that. We all get like that, especially when we drain our magic. I understand. And you loved your cactus, it’s absolutely fair to mourn its passing especially when it was gifted from someone so dear to you. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have stayed. It’s okay. I- actually, now that I’m thinking about it- I’m sorry if I impeded you. I stayed when you obviously needed time alone-”

Wooyoung chuckles, shoving at San and pressing his hands to his mouth. “Okay, I get it, stop it. We need to stop apologizing to each other.” San smiles once he’s released, instantly going for another mouthful of soup.

Wooyoung hums, still looking at San. “I, Uh- tomorrow actually... Everything’s been really overwhelming for me lately, because of tomorrow.” He rings his fingers together.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” San mutters behind a mouthful of noodles.

Wooyoung shakes his head, looking anxious. “It’s, uhm, it’s actually her birthday. It’s why I closed the shop tomorrow. I knew I wouldn’t be able to work through it.” He chuckles wetly. San looks up at Wooyoung, falling still as he listens. Wooyoung notices San staring and shuffles in his seat, distressing against the cuffs of his hoodie. 

“Wooyoung-”

“My Dad was supposed to visit with my little brother, said we’d visit her grave together since we haven’t been together as a family in literal years. He- well, I mean you saw George, his african eagle, last week. His work wasn’t able to grant his request to leave. So, I was going into tomorrow alone and I wasn’t handling it well.” He admits nears tears. 

San nods, letting him know he could continue.

“I think I- well.” Wooyoung mutters, more to himself. “When she passed away, I didn’t deal with it all that well and pretty instantly ran away to avoid it.” He says out loud, running a hand through his hair. “I just, ditched everything and everyone because I couldn’t… handle it? She was the only other green witch in the family, she understood me. My Dad is great but he’s a sorcerer and he just doesn’t get it. She was my rock and she- but afterwards, I left my boyfriend of 4 years and just packed up and left. It-  actually that was needed. He wasn’t great in the long run and was kind of a piece of shit so if there’s one good thing from my Mom’s passing it's that but-”

He huffs, uncertain of his words. “But I wanted to come back recently, felt okay enough to come home again. To Korea. A-and with this bakery. I found a box of her recipes she used to make back at the house and I just, I don't know. It felt right, felt like what I needed to do to come to terms with everything since I refused to process it before. I had money saved up from school I didn’t finish, and my Dad loaned me some funds, so I bought the bakery, revamped it and here I am.”

He looks to San then, equally as sad as before. He sniffles and bites his lips. “Here I am, with her plants, making her recipes and tomorrow is her birthday and I miss her. I miss my family.” He hums on a short breath. “I really miss my family, San-ah.” 

San luckily still had his own family around, could see his sister, his parents, his aunts and uncles as much as he wished. He knew the pain of losing grandparents he was close with too early, still often visited their graves, but he had his parents around. He still needed them around, it felt like. 

He knew that his group of friends were slowly growing to form a coven, it was only a matter of time until all that settled.

He had people he could always go to, could count on.

But Wooyoung had been alone. And it sounded like, as much as he loved his family, he didn’t have much contact with them. Which was unfortunately understandable given the nature of his Dad’s job. 

“Wooyoung?” San stares at the other witch before opening his arms. “Is it okay if I give you a hug?”

Wooyoung breathes in a wet chuckle. “Can you, please?” He nearly whispers. San moves from his seat to stand beside the tearful witch. He folds his arms around Wooyoung and Wooyoung lets himself just rest against San. The older holds him, hugs him tightly and eases his discomfort. Wooyoung doesn’t cry though he’s near to it. He holds it in and calms himself, letting himself ease against San and his magic.

When he feels well enough, he moves away and San holds his shoulders, staring at him from above.

“Do you want to bake her something?” San questions easily. “For her birthday? Depending on the storm, maybe we can drop it off for her tomorrow.”

Wooyoung shakes his head, still biting his lips and he instantly looks like a little kid thinking over his words. “We-we never made her seaweed soup.” He says slowly, almost guilty, like he’s thought this exact sentence over a thousand times. “She always made it for us but we were too young to make it for her.”

San smiles, running his thumbs over the hoodie. “Why don’t we make her seaweed soup.” 

Wooyoung sniffles in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

A few months later…

“I still can’t believe you thought I was a criminal.” Wooyoung laughs late one night. “Adding charms and enchantments into my baking to make sorry sucks like you addicted to my work? It’s too funny.” They’re together in his bed, naked, spent and tired. When Wooyoung shifts to his side to look at San, he makes a little noise, his lower half still sore from their earlier romp.

He smiles his little smile that San has found that he loves. San moves to collect the giggling man into his arms and Wooyoung instantly melts against his chest. San kisses his temple.

“You may be a mischievous little minx, could definitely see you even being a kitsune, but you are certainly no criminal.” San says with a chuckle. “And I’ve seen your charms and enchantments. They suck.”

Wooyoung laughs in agreement. “You were so certain. You were so… against me when you were trying to ‘investigate’. It was cute.”

“And yet you fell for my endearing charms.” San says and Wooyoung laughs, throwing his head back. He giggles away, looking up at San. “Charms?!” He asks, aghast. “There were no charms. You were awkward and throwing your magic everywhere on the floor. You were a stuttering mess as I told you how I bake a loaf.”

San smiles though his stomach churns at his own second hand embarrassment. “Oh hush up, you.” He says as he presses his mouth against Wooyoung’s. He turns them slowly then, so that he lays Wooyoung down on his back, to which Wooyoung makes a gentle sigh against his lips. San runs his heated palm down his side and holds his waist comfortingly. Wooyoung spreads his legs for San to lay comfortably between, distributing his weight over his boyfriend.

San pulls away and Wooyoung, through the darkness of the night, looks more beautiful than he’s ever seen him. “I think my magic was pushing me to you. Kept bringing you up on my accounts for me to notice.” San whispers. “Not because you were a criminal, which is what I was used to using it for, but because it knew.”

Wooyoung juts his chin out in confusion. “Knew what?”

“You were my person. I think it knew that I’d fall in love with you. I am partial to divination after all.”

Wooyoung’s smile smears across his face as he hits his boyfriend’s naked chest. “Cheesy.” He huffs. “You’re so cheesy.”

San grabs his wrist and slowly presses it down against the mattress. “Perhaps.” He admits, before leaning down again. Wooyoung goes still, staring up at San, lips parting in want for a kiss. His eyes grow needy, nearly begging. 

“But it’s true and my magic was right. I love you.” 

Wooyoung shuts him up with a deep kiss. San listens and together, they spend the night tucked away from the light of the moon.

The next morning finds a tired San in the kitchen with a determined Wooyoung. 

“Wooyoung, you need to stop trying new things.”

“Change is good, Sannie.”

"No it isn’t. Why do you keep trying to put things that don't belong into your baking?!”

“Chickpeas are hardly a thing that don’t belong.”

“Chocolate chip chickpea cookies sound atrocious!”

“That’s just ‘cause you haven’t had them yet. With a little bit of cinnamon they’re perfect! Plus, protein. You keep hounding me about protein so here’s an extra source, with sugar! For cheat day.”

“I don’t want to try a chickpea cookie!”

With a huff, Wooyoung takes a slightly cooled cookie from the baking pan and shoves the atrocity into his mouth. San instinctively begins biting down.

Fuck.

It’s phenomenal.

Wooyoung laughs at his reaction and smiles brightly. San can’t help but roll his eyes lovingly, the plants around the apartment swaying at Wooyoung’s deep rooted happiness. It shines and thrives.

“Shut up.”

Wooyoung giggles. “Love you too.”