Eric didn’t believe in a lot of things.

He was not an uncomplicated man, and therefore he preferred to have things at a level that he could understand. Things like the rising water bill, or the half-eaten box of Cheerios left by Dongwan by the sink, or the sneakers that Andy had outgrown within the past six months and needed replacing, were things he easily conceded to and were what mattered. Those things were tangible and could be proven with math or logic or science, or at least were inescapable facts of life. Those things he could accept.

But others…

Like the sound of giggling that he had heard while he was in the shower and which abruptly stopped when he turned the water off.

Like how he had lost his company ID somewhere between his office and the subway but then it all of a sudden dropped on his head as he walked home, dejected after an afternoon of searching.

Like how he had come home one day and found their apartment ridiculously spotlessly clean, with beds made and everything, even though Dongwan was spending the week at his patient’s house in Flatbush where he worked as a caregiver, and Andy had been at Mr. Fisher’s apartment since that morning to be looked after while Eric was at work.

“No, I didn’t hire anyone, are you crazy?” Dongwan had told him on the phone when Eric called him, utterly perplexed. “Besides, they would have needed the keys. And the neighbors would have seen. Should have seen.”

“Maybe there’s a Cleaning Zorro out there somewhere, coming in through the fire escapes.” Eric had even inspected the underside of the bathroom sink, had rubbed his fingers against the smooth white porcelain so bright now it was practically sparkling. “I’m not kidding, Wannie, even the mold rings are gone. Holy .”

Dongwan had hung up on him shortly after, muttering about changing the locks and possibly hiring the FBI and saying that he would get to the bottom of it as soon as he came home. Eric even paid $40 for a locksmith to come and check all the doors and windows, only to find out that none of them had been tampered with, there had been no forced entry, and was he sure that he was going to change the locks because it would cost him $8.50 each?

(He agreed anyway, and Dongwan came home to the nasty surprise that none of his keys worked, and that he too had to spend the afternoon at Mr. Fisher’s watching Beauty and the Beast until Eric could come home and give him his new set).

Things like those, Eric couldn’t really understand, and therefore, it occupied his thoughts, day in and day out, small mysteries that he couldn’t help but pick at and attempt to unravel. Although he didn’t really mind having a clean house, it didn’t sit well with him that no one could come up with a logical explanation as to what had happened. Well, no one except Andy, that is.

“It was really him, hyung,” Andy told him for at least the twentieth time, tailing him as Eric set the table for dinner. It was already four days after and they were still mulling over it. “He doesn’t need keys and things. He just poof! appears.”

Eric sighed exasperatedly. Andy had somehow gotten obsessed with the idea of the ‘Bird Man’ and named him at every possible opportunity. Filling Eric’s shoes with loose change? The Bird Man. Pouring an entire bottle of shampoo down the toilet? The Bird Man. It only seemed natural then that their mysterious one-day housekeeper was also the same Bird Man that had captured Andy’s imagination. Eric was glad he hadn’t even bothered showing him the feather he had found in his brother’s bedroom, although he had considered the idea once or twice.

“Andy…”

“It’s true!” Andy said, voice rising dangerously to a whine. “He cleaned our apartment with magic…”

“Enough!” Eric’s patience was wearing thin, not appreciating that the only answer being fed to him was one he couldn’t accept. He picked Andy up and set him down on his chair just as Dongwan came in to the kitchen. “Sit down now and eat. I really don’t want to hear about any of that anymore.”

“But—”

“Now.” Eric employed the same tone his father had always used with him and was surprised when it worked on Andy too, although it was accompanied by a very pointed pout. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to be mean,” Dongwan reached out and pinched Andy’s cheeks. “What are you guys on about now?”

“Nothing,” Eric grumbled, not really wanting to discuss Andy’s imaginary friend any more. His brother, for as long as he had known, was not prone to flights of fancy. He was much like Eric in that sense, so the Bird Man business was throwing him off a loop. Was this what parenting felt like? When you woke up one morning and suddenly the kid that you’d known all his life had changed?

“Eric won’t believe me—”

“Eric hyung.” Dongwan automatically corrected.

“Eric hyung won’t believe me!” Andy whined. “I’m not making it up!”

“What’s this? Is this that Duck Man—?”

“Bird Man.” Andy said. It was already two weeks past the strange incident in the woods and Dongwan had mainly been kept out of most of the Bird Man conversations, although he wasn’t completely clueless about it. “He’s a guy who transforms into a bird with magic. He was the one who cleaned our house.”

“No he wasn’t,” Eric said tiredly. “Stop it, Andy.”

“Well who’s to say it wasn’t?” Dongwan said good-naturedly as he started on his dinner. “I mean, you probably did it, Eric. In your sleep or something.”

Eric glared at him. “Is that the best you can come up with?”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with any explanations. I accept Andy’s proposal of Bird Man, or at the very least that scene in Enchanted where rats and pigeons clean up while the princess is singing…you would make for a very ugly princess though.”

This urged a grin from Andy. He and Dongwan both loved that movie and took turns singing its songs at the highest possible volume imaginable while Eric tried his best to tune the both of them out. He ignored the comment about him being a princess, which was likely what Andy was snickering at. Dongwan, for all his faults, was the best at making Andy smile.

“The point is,” Eric said, stabbing his peas with a fork, “it’s impossible.”

“The point is,” his cousin shot back, “it happened. What are you going to do? It’s not like you can call the cops.” Dongwan took on a higher tone of voice and imitated a damsel in distress, which irritated Eric further. “‘Oh, please sir, someone cleaned my house without my knowledge…’”

“I don’t sound like that!”

“Well you’re so wigged out by it when there’s nothing we can do.”

“Wouldn’t you be creeped out? It’s not a joke that someone entered our apartment.”

“I never said it was, but we already had the apartment checked and we’ve changed the locks. The only thing we’re missing are nanny cams, and no, we’re not getting them. Get a grip.” His cousin gave him a pointed look. “Eric, sometimes you just have to let things play out by themselves. Our house got a free cleaning job. No one knows who did it. I accept the explanation of Bird Man.”

“This is New York City.” The big, grand, ferocious City of Dreams and Nightmares. Even after living in it for nearly thirteen years, he was still not fully at ease with it. “Anything can happen.”

“There’s your answer then. You said it yourself.”

“What?”

“‘This is New York City.’” Dongwan said with a satisfied smirk. “‘Anything can happen.’ So it up.”

And so, Eric was forced to accept it, albeit begrudgingly. Dongwan refused to discuss the matter any further with him and had conceded instead to Andy’s Bird Man story to keep the peace. Not that Eric could spend any more time and energy dwelling on it anyway; August was already quickly drawing to a close, and the days were counting down like a marathon to the first day of school. There were school supplies to be ordered and clothes shopping to be prioritized. There were bills lining up to be paid, groceries to be bought, and laundry to do.  At the publishing house where he worked, there was an upcoming manic rush for the release of the new Dan Brown.

No, Eric had to focus now on other things, more important things. He filed away the cleaning incident in his mind as something to be revisited another day. For now, real life was calling, and it was urgent.

“Hey, where are you? I have an emergency night shift at the Delaneys’. Mrs Delaney caught a cold and can’t breathe very well. I need you back before I leave so you can watch Andy.”

Eric held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he signed the receipt for his purchases. “Got school supplies for Andy. These kids still use ring binders, right?”

“Just now?! Eric, I gave you the supplies list last week! School starts Monday!”

“Yeah, well, I’d told you we were rushing something. You’re lucky I even got around to doing it.” It was a miracle he had gotten out of the office at all, and it was already 10PM on a Friday night. The rest of his team were still stuck doing the sign-offs. “Now, yes or no on ring binders? Hurry up while I’m still at Target.”

“Yeah, it’s in the list. Are you nearby?”

“Atlantic Avenue. Give me 15. I’ll take a cab home.”

“Okay, that’s good then. I have to be out of here by 30. Hurry up.”

“Okay, okay.”

Eric gathered the bags and quickly exited the store. Even though it was already late, the city was still unbearably warm, the summer heat rising up from the oven-baked sidewalks in invisible curlicues. The streets were already dark, the only lights illuminating the area coming from the straight-necked streetlamps towering at the corners. Eric wiped the sweat dotting his forehead with the back of his hand and started for the taxi line that was on the other side of the building.

Something suddenly hit him on the back of the head and for a moment, Eric’s vision turned white. He lost his balance and fell forward, landing hard on the concrete, his senses just there enough for him to partly cushion his fall with his hands so his face wouldn’t smash into the pavement. Pain reverberated in waves through his skull. He was pretty sure his head was bleeding.

He was about to get on his knees to stand when a foot slammed on his back, knocking the breath out of his lungs and forcing him to stay on his stomach.

“Check his wallet, check everything. Make sure he isn’t a cop or something crazy,” a voice said. The foot pressed harder on Eric’s back and then the voice was directed at him. “Man, if you don’t want to die, you’d better keep still and keep quiet.” Something cold and heavy pressed against the back of his aching head and Eric froze.

A gun. He was being mugged.

(This is New York, he remembered himself saying, although it now felt like a lifetime ago. Anything can happen.)

Fantastic, he thought bitterly.

He felt as several hands went through his pockets. “Wallet, check! Ooh, this guy’s loaded.”

“Phone is nice…Keys? What’s in his bags?”

“Forget his keys, man. And the bags got useless . But take the watch.”

“No!” Eric surprised himself by crying out. “Not the watch, please.” It had been a gift from his father. He was going to give it to Andy too, eventually. “Take everything but the watch.”

The gun pressed harder against his head and there was an audible click that made his blood run cold. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up, man? You deaf or something?”

Eric pressed his lips together, resigning himself to just letting them take everything when he got a swift kick to the ribs, making him cry out and curl up on his side in pain. Spots danced around his vision and there was a frightening minute when he couldn’t breathe. The inside of his mouth tasted like metal.

Uncaring for his distress, his muggers circled around him, laughing. “That’s what you get, pretty boy. Told you to shut up, didn’t I? Told you to--”

The words were cut off as a great gust of wind that roared in Eric’s ears suddenly enveloped them, accompanied by a loud swooshing sound. There was a scuffle and several yells, but Eric was in too much pain to even bother. He shut his eyes and concentrated on breathing, feeling hot fire lance up and down his chest where boot had kicked bone, and wishing they would just get his stuff and leave him the hell alone.

Someone touched his face, their fingers cold and delicate, and he jerked his head back, refusing to be toyed with.

“Take everything already, just don’t hurt me, please,” he said, hating how small and pitiful his own voice sounded. Had he been in a less vulnerable state he would have attempted to fight his way out, but he had been caught off-guard, and now all his walls were down. He just wanted to stay alive.

“He’s afraid,” a new voice said, softer and far more refined than the ones from a moment before. It had a faint melodic quality to it, as though it was accompanied by the faint sound of bells. “Jinnie, stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything,” a second voice said, similar to the first, but deeper and with a more childish tone.

Surprised at the newcomers and their statements, Eric wrenched his eyes open and forced his vision to steady itself despite the failing light. The streetlamp nearest to them was flickering in and out, and the area was bathed in shadows. Two silhouettes were nearby, but they weren’t making any move to approach him.

“Don’t come near me,” he warned, in case the strangers were the same ones who had mugged him. He dragged himself upright, keeping his eye on the two silhouettes as he moved. He figured he could make a run for it, but his head and his entire right side felt inflamed. There was no way he was going to outrun them in his state; he’d be dead before he even got a chance to yell. “I’ve got a gun, you bastards.”

One of the shadows tutted, the one with the deeper voice. “That’s not very nice, calling us bastards. Father won’t appreciate that at all, will he, Syungie?”

“No, he won’t, but maybe we can ask for an exception,” the other one said in a tone that was less teasing than the other. “Here…” Something flew up and landed neatly by Eric’s feet. His wallet, then his keys. “Your other things are in your pocket. They didn’t take your watch.”

Somehow Eric didn’t feel comforted by the stranger’s statement. The back of his neck was overcome by a strange prickling sensation, and once more, the old wound in his hand was stinging. He realized now how quiet the area was. “They…those guys, what did you do to them? Where did they go?”

“Why, we helped you, of course,” one of the shadows giggled. He was slightly taller than the other one, even more than Eric himself. “As to where they went…mmm, you’re better off not knowing.”

Eric’s heart rate sped up, the stranger’s tone of voice suddenly reminding him of a predator circling its prey. A wolf cornering a lamb. A lion about to pounce. He took a careful step back, hoping with all his might that if he screamed, somebody would be able to hear.

“You’re afraid,” the other shadow said, its voice softer. It took a step forward but stopped when Eric held his hands up.

“Stop. Please…stay where you are.”

“Or what?” the taller shadow said, a playful lilt in its voice. “You can’t hide from us. We can run faster, fly swifter. We can hide in the shadows and dance in the light. We can grant you your dreams or take them away. Why, o why, should we listen then to your pleas, Eric Mun, son of the Above?”

By now Eric’s entire body was covered in goosebumps. Several thoughts sped through his mind, his heartbeat unbearably loud in his ears.

What in the world is he saying? Is he all right in the head? Am I more injured than I thought?

“Consider this a debt repaid,” said the other shadow, the slighter one, with the voice like a thousand stars. “Your brother saved mine. I hope that by granting you this favor my gratitude is recognized and accepted.”

“My brother?” Eric felt confused. What did Andy have to do with anything? “Show yourself,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. He backed up enough so in between them was a patch of light on the sidewalk illuminated by the flickering streetlamp, a makeshift spotlight. His instinct was telling him to run, but something was keeping him rooted to the spot. He felt like he was on the edge of a breakthrough, as though he was about to discover a missing link. “Who are you?”

What are you?

There was a moment when time seemed to have stopped and Eric held his breath, fully expecting for neither of the strangers to comply with his request, but then the two shadows moved slowly towards the light, the slighter one first, then the other. Eric found himself unable to stop staring as soon as they came into full view.

They were both distinctly male, but had an almost ethereal beauty to them that they could have made equally ravishing females. The taller one had dark hair that was slightly ruffled, strong eyebrows, and a mischievous smile. The slighter one had ash-blonde hair with bangs so long it nearly covered his eyes, and delicate features that wouldn’t have looked wrong on a woman. Both were dressed in contrasting colors: the brunette clad in black from head-to-toe, while the blonde wore what seemed to be a white summer suit.

(Beautiful, Eric found himself thinking as he gazed on the blonde one a second too long, before he caught himself and quickly purged the thought out of his head)

“Like what you see?” the taller one smirked, cocking his head towards the direction of the blonde. A breeze had picked up, but it wasn’t any of the soft summer breezes that came with the season. This one was cold and probing, his wounds in a way that made his entire body throb and his nerve endings twinge. Eric gasped in pain, nearly falling to his knees.

“Junjin, stop it!” the other one hissed, and almost immediately the probing feeling stopped and the pain was reduced to a distant echo. Cold hands brushed the sides of Eric’s face, and almost instantly, a warmth flooded into his veins, providing a soothing balm to whatever damage had been wrought. The blonde was looking at him intently, the worry evident in his eyes. “You’re hurt quite badly. I apologize…we had forgotten how fragile mortals were.”

Mortals?

Eric’s head was swimming from a billion sensations, a billion questions. “You…” he asked the blonde. “Who the hell are you?”

The blonde seemed surprised at his question. “Hyesung,” he said simply, softly, yet the word seemed to bear the weight of an entire world.

“What the hell are you?” Eric bit out. There was something they were hiding, something more…

“I’m a fae.” Hyesung said, the last word meant to sound as though it should explain everything. He didn’t care to elaborate further, but resorted to keeping his gaze on Eric’s, his expression neutral.

Fae?

From where he was standing, the other man giggled, the sound like sunshine laced with steel.

“Who are we? What are we? That’s the question isn’t it?” he said in a singsong. “That is the age-old question…”

“You,” Eric said, turning to the other man. Junjin. That was his name. Where had he heard that name before? “Are you…are you the same?”

Junjin grinned at him, teeth impeccably white and glinting like knives under the lamplight. “I’m many things. But you may know me by a more familiar name that your darling brother has christened me with.”

Eric felt his mouth suddenly go dry. There was another sudden whooshing sound, a motion like a small tornado disturbing the dust and assorted materials on the ground, and suddenly in Junjin’s place was a large bird, black as night, darker than shadow, its eyes glinting with a familiar mischief. It lasted a second, or maybe three, then the wind kicked up again, and Junjin was back, a hair nary out of place, his mouth quirked up in a mocking grin.

No ing way?!

“Junjin, that was absolutely unnecessary…” Hyesung started to say, and Eric was about to open is mouth to protest but there was a sudden shift, of time, of space, and then there was a loud crack. A third man had appeared beside Junjin, his hair an unruly reddish brown, and his face a mask of fury. He was dressed in a red suit that was so tight Eric could see the outline of his body, so toned that Eric was convinced that it was a trick of the light of some sort.

I’ve absolutely lost my mind, Eric thought, watching as the new arrival took in his surroundings with a critical eye. That or this is a dream. There is absolutely no way a man could just change into a bird, and then another appear out of nowhere…

“Minwoo!” Hyesung and Junjin simultaneously said. Although the new arrival was shorter than them both, they seemed to visibly recoil as the other man approached with barely-controlled anger.

“What in Danu’s name have you two done?” the man named Minwoo thundered. His voice was like a slow-boiling storm, the riptide snaking through the oceans. Junjin had scuttled near Hyesung and so the three of them now, including Eric, were under Minwoo’s livid glare. “What have you done? Who is this?”

He pointed at Eric in a way that made Eric feel smaller than he should, and he was about to speak up for himself when a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him and he nearly swooned as the pain of his injuries made themselves evident. The nearest, Hyesung, caught him.

“Eric!”

“Eric?” Minwoo asked, spitting the name like a curse. “You’ve named him?”

Eric felt as a hand like cool water ran down his face, the touch itself as comforting as the sensation that followed. Once more, that wonderful warmth filled him, calming him, healing him somehow. Without really meaning to, Eric shut his eyes, allowing the feeling to overcome him, and enjoying the fact that Hyesung was holding him close, so close that he could smell his scent. Autumn rain. Northern wind. Wisteria blooms.

“We can explain,” Eric heard Hyesung say. “But allow us to take him back.”

“Did you take this mortal from somewhere?” Minwoo asked. “Hyesung, you know very well that—”

“We tried to help him,” Hyesung interrupted. “Please, allow us to return him to his family, and then we can talk about this later. Please, Minwoo.”

There was a brief, filled silence and Eric wondered if this was the end of the dream and if he should be opening his eyes now to make his way home, but when he did, he found himself face-to-face with Minwoo, still glaring at him, a displeased frown on his face.

“Weak, pathetic mortal,” he heard Minwoo mutter. Eric watched as Minwoo raised a hand, touching his temple with his fingers. “Sleep!”

Darkness engulfed him, pulling him under and into the depths of slumber, and Eric knew no more.


tbc


Author's Notes
1. As you may have caught on, Dongwan is a private nurse. Eric works for a publishing house, Penguin Random House to be exact. They are both properly-functioning adults with decent salaries. Unlike most of NYC, money is not a problem for them. They are pretty well-off for a pair of young thirty-somethings. 
2. Flatbush and Atlantic Ave are real areas in Brooklyn. There is also really a Target on Atlantic Ave, and it's open til late. The area is pretty shady, however. Eric really should have been more careful.
3. Minwoo appears! I really hope I'm doing justice of reflecting their characters accurately. It's quite hard in this Americanized setting??? I also want to make Hyesung ier but he has reasons for his reserved nature. They're not just any fae. 
4. This chapter was incredibly hard to churn out and was originally so long I took like a week to edit it?! MAN. Writing is hard. 

Thank you for the amazing comments and the upvotes and all of you who have subscribed! If you have any other questions or wanted to just chat, feel free to leave a comment in the box! :)