Dongwan was minutes away from burning their dinner when the doorbell rang. Andy had called for him to check on his science homework, and when he returned to the stove, a good chunk of the ground beef that he’d previously thrown into the pan had now stuck fast to the bottom and was threatening to turn the rest of the batch into a sheet of carbon. Tendrils of smoke were also already curling up thick and fast towards the ceiling, and Dongwan rushed to the kitchen window to wrench it open before the smoke alarm got a chance to blare to life. Rain and freezing wind blew in from the outside and hit him like a slap to the face, but he barely had any time to register it as the tell-tale scent of burnt grease entered his nostrils and immediately made him turn his attention back to the stove.

“! , , , …!” he muttered as he lifted the pan, then immediately dropped it with a loud clang as the heat from the handle burned his palm. “!”

He managed to turn the stove off but nearly dropped the pan again when the doorbell rang in a stream of continuous buzzing, loud enough to wake the dead. His nerves itched and his teeth ached from clenching his jaw; he was going to murder whoever it was standing at their front door.

“Eric, is that you!” Dongwan yelled as he shoved his hand into an oven mitt. He didn’t doubt it was his cousin because who else could it be? No one in their right minds would ring a doorbell as though their fingers were glued to the button. “’s sake, where are your keys?!”

There was no response, but the buzzing continued, making him grit his teeth in annoyance as he pondered putting an electric shocker for the next time someone tried to be funny with the doorbell. He growled as he marched towards the door, pan still in hand and having half a mind to clobber Eric with it.

“Look here, you —” he started to say, several choice words too colorful for Andy’s ears already ready on his tongue. They all died on his lips, however, as he realized it was decidedly not Eric standing in front of him.

“Hello.” The man at the door said. His voice made Dongwan think of poisonous snakes hidden in grass, and made the base of his spine tingle with irrational fear. The man retracted his fingers from the buzzer only seconds after Dongwan continued to stare. “My mistake,” he said, shrugging, although he sounded anything but apologetic.

The outdoor hallway was dark from rain and the man at the door was wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Shadows covered most of his face except for his smile, which was sly and pointed. Once the door was fully open, he angled his head enough for the light from inside the apartment to illuminate his features, and Dongwan could feel as his heart nearly skittered to a stop.

“Minwoo.” Dongwan breathed the name as familiarly as he could state his own, though hasn’t he only been here once?? In the process, he nearly forgot he had hands and almost dropped their dinner on the floor. The other man was dressed head to toe in black: black shirt, black jeans, black boots, and a black silk…something…that followed his movements like water. A kimono, maybe? Dongwan had to admit it looked chic as hell, although it was something he was sure he would never be able to pull off. “What are you…where…” He forced himself to inhale and exhale in rapid succession to calm his nerves; he felt like he was short-circuiting. “I mean…hey.”

“Hey.” Minwoo said, his lips quirked up in an infuriating smirk. He seemed to taste the word, savoring it. Dongwan couldn’t stop staring at his lips, which were now sufficiently moist due to the tongue that kept travelling across them. Jesus! “We were…ah…within your borders when the weather quickly turned and we had to seek shelter.”

“We…?” Dongwan’s brain seemed to kickstart and he looked beyond Minwoo to check if he wasn’t alone. A taller shadow behind him confirmed his suspicions. His heart thudded against his ribcage and he discreetly tightened his grip around the pan. “Hello?”

“Hello, Dongwan.” The shadow said, and stepped out from behind Minwoo. It was Junjin, pale in the wan light and looking slightly ruffled. For some inexplicable reason, Dongwan felt a wave of relief upon seeing him.

“Oh hey!” He couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Junjin. You nearly…er…you made me a bit nervous there.”

“Oh?” Minwoo was studying him with an intense gaze, one that made Dongwan’s skin crawl. He let out a nervous laugh as Minwoo leaned against the doorway, close enough to him now that he could practically smell him: like…old pine, and freshly-turned earth, and…something so inexplicably unique it made his head spin.

“It’s funny how you got here faster than Eric.” Dongwan said, hoping they could change the topic. He edged away from Minwoo and hoped the other man didn’t notice. Judging from the way his eyes shifted, Dongwan knew he probably did, but he feigned ignorance. “Is he on the way back too?”

“Erm.” Junjin cocked his head to the side. “I have not seen him today, unfortunately.”

“Oh, didn’t you go to work today?” His wrist was starting to ache from the ache of the cast-iron pan in his hand. Under normal circumstances he would have already invited the two men in, but there was a funny feeling in his stomach that he couldn’t quell. For once in his life he wished Eric was there with him.

“No, ah…my brother and I had duties to fulfill.” Junjin said. He was much quieter than the last few instances Dongwan had encountered him, which was…a bit odd, admittedly, but Dongwan couldn’t really say he knew them enough at all to even have that opinion. “As he has mentioned, we are only here because of the rain…”

“Jinnie?” a voice piped up from the other end of the hallway, followed seconds later by the sound of rushing footsteps. It only took a moment before Andy was suddenly jostling him for space at the doorway. “Oh my God, you’re here! Did you come visit? Do you want to eat dinner here?” His cousin tugged at the end of his shirt forcefully, and if he wasn’t so cute and related to him, Dongwan would have outright snapped. His shirt was expensive.

“Andy.” Dongwan pried his cousin’s fingers off of him, not missing the ecstatic expression Junjin was now wearing. A warm smile had overtaken his features and changed his aura completely. Minwoo, on the other hand, watched Andy with what seemed to be slight amusement, unmoving from his spot at the doorway. “Kiddo, chill out. We have guests.”

“Dongwan hyung!” Andy pleaded, tugging at his shirt once more, obviously uncaring that he was stretching the seams. “Please can they have dinner with us? Please please please…”

There it was again, that hesitation. It was weird that there was even any, especially since he had been bugging Eric to bring the brothers around once more just that morning. But he felt strangely vulnerable now, moreso that Andy was there with him. He caught Minwoo’s eye as he glanced up, ready to decline Andy’s request while making up some elaborate excuse, but something about the way the other man’s eye glinted as he smiled made all of Dongwan’s self-control cave in on itself.

Oh what the hell.

“Yeah sure. Why not, right?” He sighed as he stepped aside and pulled Andy towards him to provide ample space for both Minwoo and Junjin to step through. “Shoes off, please, this is an Asian household,” he said, watching as both toed off their footwear. Despite the many laces on Minwoo’s boots, it seemed effortless, and Dongwan was silently impressed. Meanwhile, Andy’s hand was already clasped onto Junjin’s and tugging him further in. He wriggled free from Dongwan’s hold and pulled the taller man towards his room.

“C’mon!” Andy said. “Follow me!”

“Andy,” Dongwan called after his cousin’s retreating back. “You’d better have finished your homework, okay, dinner will be…oh !”

“What?” Minwoo asked as he crossed the threshold just as Dongwan re-entered the kitchen, and Dongwan swore the hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he did. “What’s the matter?”

“Shut the door, will you?” Dongwan called out from the stove as he tried to salvage their dinner. The cast-iron pan was still obscenely hot and had continued cooking the beef as they had stood there, talking. There was now a layer of burnt meat at the bottom. He checked to make sure Andy was out of earshot before saying, “.”

“May I be of assistance?” Minwoo said, suddenly appearing behind him, and the kitchen was all of a sudden too cramped and too small and Dongwan needed to breathe.

“I—” Dongwan stuttered because for ’s sake, what is the matter with him? “Personal space.” He said meekly as he attempted to inch away from Minwoo before his back promptly met the counter. The other man let out a low rumbling laugh, almost a scoff, and Dongwan felt the blood rush to his face.

“You act as if I plan on eating you alive.” Minwoo said, the tone of his voice almost in a sing-song as another gust of wind blew in from the open window in the kitchen. Creepy. And yet…thrilling? “I swear to you, Dongwan Kim, I shall do nothing of the sort.”

Please. Dongwan almost begged, but he ended up saying, “I’m just trying to cook dinner,” instead, sounding like the biggest ing loser on the planet. “If you have any tricks up your sleeve, now’s the time because then I can know whether or not to just buy food from the deli down the block.”

Minwoo peered at the pan and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Is it swine?”

“What? Swine—no, I mean…we live in a Jewish neighborhood. Pig isn’t kosher so we don’t eat it.”

“Jewish?” Minwoo asked, his eyes suddenly gleaming. “Is that a title you hold? Is it royalty?”

Dongwan shook his head, thinking that this was maybe the strangest conversation in his life. He decided to humor Minwoo rather than demanding that he stop kidding around. He has to be. No one can NOT know what the heck being Jewish is. “No, we’re not Jewish,” he said as an explanation. “But we live here so we choose to just follow the laws on kosher so we don’t end up offending anyone.” He brandished the pan under Minwoo’s nose. “This is beef, for lettuce wraps, but it’s halfway gone now…”

Minwoo seemed to hold his hand over the pan for a second. A strange gesture, but Dongwan considered that it may have been a bit hot still.

“It is not,” Minwoo said.

“Not what?”

“Burnt.” The other man replied. “You may want to do a closer observation.”

This time it was Dongwan’s turn to scoff. “What are you talking about?” He knew, of course, what burnt meat looked. The bottom layer was the same color as the pan itself, for starters. “Of course it is, I mean can’t you see how—”

He yelped and this time did let go off the pan again, dropping it with another deafening clang! on the range. Bits of ground beef flew up in the air.

“Careful!” Minwoo said, holding his hand up so the pan didn’t slide off the stove. He gave Dongwan a sideways grin. “Are you always this scandalous?”

“I swear that was burning!” Dongwan sputtered as he pointed at the meat, now perfectly cooked down to the smallest morsel, exactly the opposite of what he knew he had had in his hands not even five minutes ago. “I mean I was scraping at it!” he said, looking at the spatula on the counter, but it was also now miraculously spotless. Even the burning smell in the kitchen was gone, although the window had remained open.

What???

“I swear…” Dongwan started to say, eager to defend the fact that he was of sound mind and body and not some raving lunatic. “I don’t know what the happened and how it did but—”

He was cut off as Minwoo suddenly strode forward and placed his fingers on the sides of Dongwan’s face, so gentle that the skin underneath it seemed to tingle.

“Wh-What…” Dongwan breathed, seeing his own reflection in Minwoo’s eyes; they were as dark and unfathomable as a universe. Fear once more thrummed through him; he felt vaguely threatened, but there was no more space that he could back into, with him already pressed against the counter. He gulped instead, his throat already turning dry. “What are y-you…?”

Minwoo tsked softly, his breath feathering against Dongwan’s cheek. His tongue ran over his lips in a languid fashion. “Why are you so afraid?” he murmured, so low Dongwan could scarcely hear it.

“I’m…I’m not.” Dongwan fought to keep his voice steady. The knives were still in the drawer at least and not lying about, so there was no weapon that either of them could reach for, unless it was the cast-iron pan…or the box of Cheerios Eric had forgotten to put back in the cupboard. But Minwoo…his head was still spinning…oh my God, Minwoo smelled so good.

You literally could be murdered in your own kitchen within the next two minutes and you have the hots for your would-be murderer?? His rational mind couldn’t yell at him loud enough. What the !

His irrational mind didn’t really have words. His entire attention was devoted to Minwoo’s lips – grapefruit-pink, slick, soft — and the way his teeth – porcelain-white, straight, sharp – teased with them, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Minwoo drew nearer. His fingers trailed down Dongwan’s cheek to his neck, veritably stoking the low-burning fire that Dongwan was nursing in his nether regions. His nail picked at a tender spot, his pulse point, and Dongwan was unable to hold back a gasp. As though in response, Minwoo let out a low, pleased sound.

“I’ve told you: no harm will come to you,” he said as he inched closer, slow enough that it was actually painful, but before Dongwan could find it in himself to either push him away or just pull him further in, Minwoo had moved to close the miniscule gap between them, his lips landing on Dongwan’s in a small, chaste kiss, bringing with it a flood of sensations: The feel of lush grass underneath your feet. Hot cherry pie. Watching the fireworks over the Hudson on the Fourth of July.

It lasted maybe half a second, and Dongwan could feel the other man smiling against him before he started pulling away. Something inside of him crumbled, and he lifted his hands and cupped Minwoo’s face, stilling him and forcing the two of them to lock gazes. There was a restrained hunger in Minwoo’s eyes, and almost a sort of goading. You can’t, his smirk seemed to say. You won’t.

But Dongwan was always up for a challenge.

“May I?” he whispered, and watched with a soaring heart as Minwoo gave the slightest of nods. He closed his eyes.

They kissed as thunder boomed and lightning sizzled just outside the window.

-|-

In the Underground, the earth started to tremble.

Screams and the sound of crystal shattering echoed throughout the palace where the Summer Court had gathered to celebrate the visit of the High King and Queen. The ground started to split with a deafening crack! and the merrymakers quickly scattered, using magic or their own power to flee towards more stable ground.

“Your Highness—!” came the distressed call of the Royal Guard, for the King and Queen had been in the middle of the ballroom, right where the earth had suddenly started to cleave in two. It seemed as though they were about to be swallowed whole by the widening gap, but the Queen spurred into action at the last moment, deftly grabbing her husband’s wrist and forcing the both of them to shapeshift into their avian forms just as the table they had been sitting at vanished into the ground. They landed ungracefully in the courtyard several meters away, amidst stampeding feet and the alarmed clamoring of the Court.

“My Queen!” the King said, shielding his wife as they rolled into a heap, back in their human form. The Queen gasped in pain, holding a hand to her head. She felt as her husband held her in his arms, protecting her with his entire body as she attempted to determine why it was that her skull was suddenly threatening to split in half. It had come so suddenly and fiercely that she had not been able hold her avian form for long and had sent them both crashing to the ground at the most inopportune moment.


Where Child of Earth and Child of Light
Entangle in thy fatal plight
And kingdoms fall to fire and flame
As thine Fates play thy deadly game


Her eyes flashed open as the old words tolled in her head, loud and clear as a death bell, filling her with dread. Without thinking twice, the Queen followed her instincts and unearthed the old magic that enabled her to sense her sons, their anger be damned. Her fear of this sudden earth-shake could not compare to the surfacing of the old prophecy; she needed to be assured that they were safe.

Danu, I beg of you…heed once more a mother’s call…

Silently, wordlessly, she reached out with her magic, stretching it far and wide to scry for her children. She did not expect for it to recoil and snap not even a moment in, and so was unable to put up a shield to protect her from the full impact of her own spell. Shocked, she let out a cry of pain as the backlash hit her with thrice as much power as the separate threads of magic suddenly retracted back into the source.

“My Queen, are you hurt?! What ails you?” Her husband quickly assessed her, his magic strong and blue and pure in her veins, attempting to heal whatever it was that plagued her. There was genuine fear in his eyes, moreso for her than the fact that the ground they were on could disappear from beneath their feet. Her utterly devoted Seelie husband…she loved him so much.

“My heart…” the King implored, “you must tell me.”

But she could not tell him. Inasmuch as she loved her husband, the Queen could not tell him what her magic knew: that their sons were not in the Underground. They were not even anywhere in the realm, in any of the kingdoms, and their collective absence felt to her as though her world had already imploded unto itself.

“No…” she murmured, and for the first time in a millennia she found that she could scarcely move, think, or breathe, already petrified by cloying fear. Around them, members of the Court were still fleeing. Beneath them, the earth seemed to growl in anger. But it did not matter…that did not matter, for it was merely a symptom of a bigger plague. A harbinger of doom.

The prophecy was calling for its due.  

The Queen needed to find her sons. And quickly.

-|-

Andy had been waiting so long for Junjin to come and visit again that he barely knew where to start once he had finally managed to drag him into his room.

“Where did you go?” he demanded once the door was closed, because it didn’t seem fair that there wasn’t even a way to contact him when he didn’t show up for weeks at a time. “I was waiting for you forever!”

Junjin laughed and sat down on his bed, which was still unmade. He didn’t seem to mind the mess, which was good; Andy didn’t want to spend time cleaning up his room while Junjin and whoever-that-other-guy-was were there, not when they could be doing other things.

“Believe me, I would have come sooner…” Junjin said. He always spoke funny, but Andy never minded. Besides, it was rude to ask why other people spoke differently. They just did, and you were supposed to leave it alone. “But we are also never really gone, as you know.”

“Whaddya mean?” Andy crossed his arms and pouted. “I never saw you.” He was telling the truth: he knew that Junjin could turn into a big black bird, but he hadn’t seen that anywhere, and he was always looking. What he’d seen instead was the huge owl that always seemed to follow them wherever they went and ended up sitting in trees or on fire escapes. He knew it was Hyesung, even though Hyesung had never confirmed what his bird form was. Andy didn’t care either way; he wanted Junjin.

“I see you have spotted my brother during his excursions. Do not lie,” Junjin raised a finger as Andy opened his mouth, “I can see it in your face. And I know my brother has been spending time here as well.”

Andy made a face. Junjin often acted like a big kid but he saw a lot more than what Eric hyung or Dongwan hyung ever did. There was no use lying to him, so he just changed the subject. “You don’t even have a phone. Sometimes I wanna tell you stuff but you’re not here. I don’t dream of you anymore either.”

“Yes, the Realm of Dreams has been fickle of late. I have been left puzzled by it as well, but that cannot be helped…” Junjin sighed, then smiled. “I am here now, however, so you can tell me whatever it is that you want. Are you well? How are you doing at your center of education?”

Andy nodded vigorously. This was what he had wanted to tell Junjin that he couldn’t tell his own brother. “You remember the flower you made, right? I bring it every day to school now. And look!” He his most recent Math quiz at Junjin’s face. “I’ve been acing every test! And the other kids like me now too. Your flower is the best.”

“My heartfelt congratulations,” Junjin said, and Andy couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride. “But you’ve achieved all of that by yourself. That flower is no bringer of luck, it is merely just that: a flower. Well, with a bit of my magic.”

His pride was quickly replaced by disappointment. “You mean it can’t really do anything?” he asked. He’d thought Junjin’s flower had been helping him all along, or at least served as some sort of good luck charm. But then…it really wasn’t so bad either to hear that he’d been doing it by himself all this time. Andy decided he could feel good about that. “The flower doesn’t have special powers?” he tried again, this time asking only to satisfy his curiosity.

“Of course it does, but it’s superficial.” Junjin pointed out. “It emanates a light, does it not?”

Andy nodded, and glanced at the flower in its mason jar, sitting on his desk. It was always glowing, and he found it really cool.

“Since my magic is linked to it, it should show you how I am faring.” Junjin looked at it thoughtfully. “I have not really had anything like that done before, but I am certain that’s what it would entail. Be very careful with it, youngling.”

Andy didn’t have to be told twice, but before he could respond, his room shook as a loud clap of thunder sounded, followed by a deafening crack of lightning. He yelped and ran to Junjin, covering his ears.

“Are you afraid?” Junjin asked, laughing, as Andy buried his face in the man’s stomach. “It is naught but soulless energy, young one. Here, let me show you.”

“I’m not afraid,” Andy said, annoyed at the implication. He had only been a little bit scared. He felt as Junjin pulled him up into a sitting position, so they sat face-to-face on the bed. And it was then that he saw the blood.

“OH!” he said, and pointed at Junjin. Blood was oozing from his nose to his lip, thick like syrup. Junjin must have felt it too because he lifted his hand to wipe at his face just as Andy said, “Jinnie, you’re bleeding again!”

Junjin swore, and Andy knew it must have been bad if he had to swear. That’s what Eric hyung did all the time. The blood made a mess on his face and hands as he started to wipe it off.

“Wait, wait, stop.” Andy said and went to his desk to collect a pack of Wet Wipes Dongwan hyung always told him to carry around. He never really used it but was glad for once that he had some. “Use this instead.”

Junjin thanked him as he handed him one Wet Wipe after another. They sat there for a while. The bleeding didn’t seem to want to stop, and Andy was already feeling torn as to whether or not he should call his cousin in to help.  

“Are you okay?” he asked, feeling scared now that Junjin might actually be hurt. He’d never actually seen this much blood coming out of someone’s nose before except for that one time one of his classmates had hit someone’s face with their elbow during PE. He glanced at the door. “My cousin is a nurse. He can help us—”

“No!” Junjin suddenly said, looking slightly scared. He still had a napkin to his face, and a lot of it was already stained red. “No, youngling. I am fine.”

For the first time, Andy doubted him. He didn’t look fine, but the flower on his desk was still glowing and looked the same. So maybe…maybe he was fine?

“I am healthy, do not worry so.” Junjin said as he threw the last napkin into his wastepaper basket. His face was clean now and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. He sniffed as though to test it and nodded when no more blood came out. “There. That should do it.”

“Jinnie…” Andy was very close to start biting his nails but he knew he shouldn’t. He sat on his hands and watched as Junjin pointed a finger at the full wastepaper basket and made the bloody Wet Wipes all disappear. It was cool, but Andy couldn’t help but feel worried. There was a funny feeling in his stomach, like he was on a roller coaster and on the edge of a drop. “Jinnie, you aren’t sick, right?” he blurted out, feeling as though he was on the verge of crying.

Junjin shook his head and held Andy’s face in his hands. His skin felt cool and smooth, like a stone at the bottom of the riverbed.

“I am all right. Take my word for it; we cannot lie.” Junjin said, then his expression changed. “But, Andy…you must never speak of this incident to anyone, do you understand? Not your brother, or your cousin, or anyone. If you do, I may never be able to visit you again, and that is not something I intend on doing. At least…not on purpose.”

Andy felt as though he had no other choice but to nod. He wanted to see Junjin more often, again and again, as many times as anyone else would allow. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he said, even though it felt like his insides were squirming. “I promise,” he added for good measure, and it seemed to work because Junjin smiled and pinched his cheeks.

“Good. This conversation ends here.” Junjin said.

Andy was about to open his mouth to say something else when he suddenly heard someone yell “WHAT THE !” in the hallway. His eyes widened, recognizing the newcomer’s voice, and he felt as his skin grew cold.

“Who is that bellowing like a wounded troll?” Junjin asked, glancing at the door. “Is that your brother by any chance, pest?”

Andy couldn’t answer because he suddenly remembered what his brother had made him swear: Never be alone with any of them, even with Junjin…

“Eric!” he could hear Dongwan hyung say, somewhere in the kitchen beyond his bedroom door. He sounded nervous. “I can explain…”

Eric hyung was home and he was mad.

Oh no.


tbc


Author's Notes
1. Crown Heights is a Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn. Although Deng and co don't really have to follow Kosher rules, I would guess that they just do it to be polite. That and it's easier and more accessible to stick with buying Kosher food since you're surrounded by Jewish bodegas. :)
2. I just realized Andy doesn't know who Minwoo is because he was asleep the first time Minwoo came calling. Ahaha. He STILL doesn't know who he is, obviously, but he doesn't really care. 
3. In case it wasn't obvious: while Woodong are face upstairs, Ricsyung are downstairs by the doors doing that thing they were doing in the previous chapter. Hehehe.
4. This was actually a long chapter that I've had to split up because the pacing dictated it to be so. Still working on the second half.
5. I can't believe this one entire day is being spread out onto 3 going on 4 chapters. UNBELIEVABLE.