The explosion is earsplitting and Chanyeol bites his lip, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. When the smoke cloud clears, he can see a dark shape starting to appear, sitting in the middle of his living room carpet. Squinting, Chanyeol waves his hands, trying to dissipate the smoke more quickly. The shape seems much bigger than he'd expected, frowning until he finally recognizes the form.

“Well, you’re definitely not a puppy,” Chanyeol says glumly, staring down at his hands in betrayal.

There's a man scrambling to get off his knees on Chanyeol's carpet, whipping his head around in bewilderment.

"Where the hell am I?" he exclaims, suddenly lowering himself into an offensive stance, knees bent and hands raised. "What did you do to me?”

Chanyeol is about to offer an explanation but something on the man's neck catches his eye and it dies in his throat.

"Guess there's the reason for the mix-up," he murmurs, eyeing the raised skin of the criss-cross mark branded onto the side of his neck. Werewolves aren't all that common around here but Chanyeol has spent enough time reading the old history books to know how to recognize one. The man belatedly whips his hand up to hide the mark, glaring at him.

"I have to go," he says gruffly. "You have to send me back."

"Uh, well," Chanyeol scratches the back of his head awkwardly. "I wish I could, but I'm not even know how I got you here in the first place."

"What?" the man stares at him incredulously, a hint of desperation creeping into his eyes. "No, you don't understand, the full moon is tonight. I'm- you can't- I need to be chained up."

He starts wringing his hands anxiously, looking torn between frustration and panic.

"It's not safe for me to be out here, I need to get back to the forest."

He looks around, searching for a window and rushes to look out through the glass.

"Where is this place? How far is it?"

"This is the city, the forest is a day's ride away from here,” Chanyeol tells him gently, feeling the guilt starting to set in. He's really made a mess this time.

“I don’t have that kind of time!” the man's eyes are wild with panic, running a hand through his hair roughly. Chanyeol needs to fix this.

"Okay just- calm down," he says, stepping closer and raising his palms up in front of him when the man flinches. "What's your name?"

The man sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Jongin. I'm Jongin."

"Right. Well, Jongin, I'm going to help you," Chanyeol says, setting his hands on his hips determinedly, trying to wrack his brain for a solution. Jongin's skeptical expression is hardly encouraging but at least he's gotten through to him, enough that Jongin seems to realize he's not a threat and eases up a fraction.

There's not much time left until the moon appears. Chanyeol has to think of something quickly.

"Can't you just cast a transporting spell or something?" Jongin pleads with him again desperately.

The guilt in Chanyeol's gut makes way for the shame burning in his stomach and he dips his head.

"I'm still a novice," he says quietly; apologetically. "And not a very good one. There's a reason I'm here and not living with a coven."

The magic was always in him from the day he was born. It just never came to him easily. Channeling the magic out from his core to the tips of his fingers had always been an insurmountable struggle, causing more mishaps and accidents with spells gone awry than good. Finding a coven that would take him in was as difficult as he could only expect it to be, not that he could blame them. It broke his spirit for a long time until he decided to pick himself up and deal with being alone. He's gotten better, practicing and studying by himself but evidently he still has a long way to go.

"Look, I can't think of anything right now but I have a room downstairs where you can stay the moon out," Chanyeol says finally, throwing his hands in the air.

"A room?" Jongin quirks an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

Chanyeol beckons to follow him down the staircase. "Trust me. It'll hold."

He leads him down to the basement, reaching out to unlock a heavily bolted door and heaves it open. It leads to a bare, windowless room, the walls stained with black splotches all over.

"I usually use this place for the trickier spells. More combustive," Chanyeol explains, stepping aside to let Jongin peer inside. "It's the safest room in the house."

Jongin looks doubtful, frowning as he examines the doors and the large steel bolts. He folds his arms across his chest tightly, suddenly looking a little pale. He must already be feeling the effect of the moon, Chanyeol realizes.

Everything about Jongin's face looks like he wants to refuse but he's running out of time and options.

"Okay," he gives in, walking to the far corner of the room and slides down to the floor. He scrubs a hand across his face like he's trying to convince himself that this isn't the worst idea in the world. Chanyeol is still trying to convince himself of the same thing. "Just...lock me up well."

Chanyeol nods, starting to pull the door shut. He pauses just before he closes the last bit, trying to find the words as Jongin pulls his knees up against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "For bringing you here. I promise I’ll think of something to help."

It's more than that. It's an apology for the forced invasion, for exposing himself to something he's sure Jongin would have preferred to keep to himself. It's no secret how werewolves are treated by everyone else, shunned aside like a contagious disease, left to deal with the humiliation of it all. Chanyeol gets that, in a way, even if it's not to the same extent.

Jongin seems to sense what he leaves unsaid and nods, acknowledging the apology quietly. Chanyeol closes the door all the way and pushes the bolts until they're locked securely. Murmuring under his breath, his holds his palm against the center of the door and watches a blue shimmer spread across the steel. A sealing spell; one of the only pieces of magic he's learnt to do properly without monumentally botching it up. Sighing, he pats the door and heads back upstairs.

Chanyeol drops the plate he’s holding at the sudden sound of screaming, ignoring the way it shatters all over the floor to dash down the staircase to the basement door. He’s not sure what to do now that he’s down here, knowing full well that he can’t open the door. The screaming stops abruptly and Chanyeol shuffles closer, pressing his ear to the steel, trying to listen for any sound inside the room.

The sickening crunch of breaking bones comes through clearly, almost drowning out Jongin’s groans and whimpers of pain. Something smashes right into the door and Chanyeol stumbles backwards, holding himself up against the wall. Jongin’s screams turn more guttural until it’s a pure animalistic howl and the smashing against the door grows stronger. The impact barely strains the hinges and the spell is strong enough to hold it well.

Still, Chanyeol can’t help but feel a spike of fear rising in his chest before he tamps it down guiltily. None of this is Jongin’s fault. Chanyeol just wishes he didn’t feel so helpless. In a way, it feels like he's intruding on a private moment. Breathing out slowly through his nose, he retreats back up the stairs to wait out the moon.

He tries to keep himself busy, tinkering around in the kitchen and re-shelving books.He even tries to nap at one point but sleep won't come to him, too acutely aware of the snarling and scratching coming from downstairs. Losing his appetite for dinner, Chanyeol settles down on the couch and waits.

A thick silence falls over the whole house hours later, just before the sun begins to rise. Swallowing tightly, Chanyeol pads back down the stairs, listening intently for any sound of movement. He shifts the bundle of blankets in his arms around so he can strip the protection spell away and pushes the door open slowly.

Jongin has changed back to his human form by now, his old clothes completely ripped to shreds and hanging off him like strips of rags. He's lying in the corner, curled into himself, still heaving from the strain of the ordeal.

It's when Chanyeol rushes over to drape a blanket over him that he notices the purpling bruises covering his body. They don’t seem to heal as quickly as Chanyeol would have expected them to.

“This happens to you every time?” Chanyeol asks quietly. Jongin nods, blinking away the tears that are still gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“I’ve never actually seen a turning,” Chanyeol murmurs. “Only read about it in books. They don’t really spare much text to explain the actual feeling.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Jongin grunts, weakly trying to shift himself upright. "I should go."

He tries to stand, keeping his balance with a hand on the wall but his legs give almost immediately. Chanyeol catches him just before he crumples to the ground again.

"You need to rest," he says pointedly. "Your body still needs time to recover."

Scowling, Jongin waves him off and pushes his hands away.

"I'm fine," he grits out, leaning against the wall heavily and clutches at the blanket around his shoulders with trembling fingers. His brows are furrowed deeply, staring at the ground and it takes a moment for Chanyeol to realizes why the look in his eyes looks so familiar. It's one he’s seen staring back at him in the mirror a thousand times; one that doesn’t want pity.

Chanyeol retracts his hands, and bites his lip, unsure of what to do next. The blanket slips,  exposing Jongin's shoulder and he shivers when his presses back against the cold wall.

Chanyeol leaves the room without a word. He heads up to his bedroom quickly, flinging his drawers open in search of a spare set of clothes. He settles for an old sweater he doesn’t even remember having and a pair of loose sweats.

When he gets back to the room, Jongin is hunched back down to the floor, as though shrinking into himself.

“Jongin?”

Jongin whips his head up, apparently not having heard Chanyeol return. He looks surprised to see that Chanyeol’s back, with a pile of folded clothes in his hands no less.

“These should fit you fine,” he says, offering the clothes to Jongin. He juts his chin out at the blanket that doesn't seem to be doing much to keep him warm. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like that.”

Jongin hesitates, staring up at Chanyeol  carefully before looking down at the clothes. He reaches out to take them after a moment and Chanyeol turns to give him some privacy.

“I'll have breakfast ready soon,” he says tentatively, eyeing the chipped tile in the wall in front of him. “D’you wanna join me?”

Jongin doesn’t answer but his stomach does, and Chanyeol chuckles to himself as he leaves the room. He'll take that as a yes.

They eat in silence for the most part. Jongin is too busy scarfing down his eggs and bacon hungrily to spare much time to talk and Chanyeol is content to munch in silence. He throws out a couple of comments here and there, not getting much more than a nod from Jongin but it’s enough to ease the air a little.

Jongin yawns widely into his fist when he’s done, his eyelids drooping heavily; he looks completely worn out from the change and now sated on a full stomach.

“You should rest a bit before you leave,” Chanyeol starts quickly before Jongin starts pushing his chair back to get up.

Jongin looks ready to protest but Chanyeol can tell by his expression that even he knows he won’t get far in this state. He shoots down Chanyeol’s offer to take the bed immediately though, settling down on the small couch by the fireplace instead. He curls up on the cushions, looking terribly fragile and small even though he fills out the entire length of the couch. Pulling the blanket Chanyeol had given him earlier over himself, Jongin closes his eyes without a word. Chanyeol hovers awkwardly, wondering if he should say something.

“Sleep well then,” he settles for before turning to head up to his own room. He can’t be sure if he imagines the murmured ‘thanks’ behind him, lost in the crackling of the fire.

Chanyeol tries to keep himself awake, wanting to be ready for when Jongin wakes up again but he's too exhausted from staying up all night. The large volume he’d pulled from his bookshelf isn’t helping much. Maybe he'll just close his eyes for a bit and rest.

Jongin is gone when Chanyeol wakes up eventually, several hours later than he’d intended. The blanket is folded up neatly on the couch cushion and it’s almost like Jongin was never there at all. Except for the deep claw marks marring the basement door and walls.

Sighing, Chanyeol looks down at the book in his hands, dragging his thumb along the worn spine. It’s an old volume of the history of herbs. He’s never tried brewing most of the potions and antidotes described in the old pages, purely because he’s never had any use for them. There’s nothing specific in the book but Chanyeol figured a little tweaking with the right ingredients and instructions would have been enough to whip up something that could help Jongin.

He spares the empty couch another glance before squaring his shoulders and heading into his study, determinedly propping the book open on the table. Can’t hurt to experiment and do a little more research anyway. Just in case.

Almost three weeks have gone by since then, when he hears a loud knock on his front door while he’s having dinner. Chanyeol’s heart leaps at the sight of Jongin standing on his doorstep though he’s not wholly surprised.

“You said you could help me?”

Beaming, Chanyeol throws the door wide open and steps aside with a nod, letting Jongin shuffle into the warmth of his house, away from the bitter cold outside. It’s only when they’ve stepped into the light of the kitchen that he notices the way Jongin’s nose and fingers have gone blue. Ushering him to the couch in front of the fireplace, Chanyeol dashes back to his bedroom to grab a couple of blankets.

“Thanks,” Jongin says gratefully, his teeth still chattering. The heat from the fireplace begins to set in eventually and he defrosts gradually, relaxing into the couch cushions.

“The next moon is in a week,” he says finally, his expression grim. He looks up at Chanyeol pleadingly.

Nodding, Chanyeol gets to his feet and beckons Jongin to follow him up the staircase to his study.

“I’ve been working on something that should help with the transition. It’s not done yet but hopefully it will work when it is,” Chanyeol explains.

“Wolfsbane?” Jongin asks curiously, following him with the blanket still draped around his frame.

“No, that was phased out years ago,” Chanyeol hums, pushing the door to the room open and inviting Jongin in. “Just made the symptoms worse the longer you used it. Screwed with your liver too.”

He turns to find Jongin staring at him, unable to hide the surprise on his face.

“I may be at magic but I read enough to know my stuff,” Chanyeol says and Jongin’s expression turns apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “So, where do we start?”

Chanyeol invites him to stay over until the potion is ready since it’s only a week away anyway. He gets the cauldron ready, prepping it with the regular base ingredients that every formula needs before gathering everything else. Jongin follows him around, helping where he can eagerly, curious to know what everything is.

Once the pressing urgency abates somewhat, Jongin is a lot less guardedly sullen and much more open than when they first met, though Chanyeol understands why he would be in the first place. Besides, it’s nice having a dinner companion for a change.

It's not as hard as he thought it would be to get Jongin to smile a little, pleased when he laughs brightly at his jokes. The tension seeps away, resting in the background at least, if not gone entirely. They still have an impending problem on their hands after all.

He's enthusiastic about a lot of things, particularly interested in Chanyeol's collection of books.

"It's been a while since I had a moment to sit down and actually read a book," Jongin admits, his thumb along the old spine of the volume in his hands reverently. "Not that the woods are the best place to store books anyway."

He doesn't talk about his past or how he got to this point, skirting past the subject when the conversation touches anywhere close. Chanyeol doesn't pry.

There isn't much else they can do while the potion takes its time to simmer. Chanyeol goes about his usual daily routine, busying himself elsewhere around the house and tending to the livestock out back. Jongin is eager to make himself useful, helping out wherever he can and Chanyeol welcomes it, glad to have company for a change.

"You're really good with Bessie," Chanyeol says in awe, watching the goat nuzzle right into Jongin's palm. "She's usually so grumpy with me. I still have the mark on my arm where she bit me."

Jongin snorts, crouching down by the goat's side to brush down her back, grooming the fur neatly.

"Guess I'm the new favourite around here," he grins.

Chanyeol shovels a pile of dung at him in response.

Chanyeol peers out the window grimly. The moon will be out in less than an hour. They managed to finish the antidote earlier that day, letting it simmer and cool for a few hours before it's ready to drink. Jongin is hovering anxiously beside him, staring out the window silently. The apprehensive fear is written in every line of his body.

Chanyeol takes a deep breath and sets a hand on Jongin's shoulder.

"Come on," he says, turning away from the window. "It's time."

Nodding, Jongin follows him to the kitchen, eyeing the thick liquid warily.

"Was it that colour this morning?" he asks, wrinkling his nose. Peering into the cauldron, Chanyeol gags at the putrid smell and whips back quickly. Jongin looks horrified.

"Uh, well. Never said it would taste like chocolate," Chanyeol says apologetically, scratching the back of his neck. He laughs, a nervous high pitched sound, and Jongin manages a smile, dragging a hand across his face.

"Alright, give it here," he says finally, holding out a goblet for Chanyeol to ladle a dollop of the murky green sludge into. "I don't suppose I could add sugar to this, right?"

"Somehow I don't think it'd help much," Chanyeol says.

His own stomach turns on itself a little as he watches Jongin bring the goblet to his lips, pinching his nose before he takes the first sip. His eyes clench shut and he's visibly gagging but he forces himself to go on, tilting the goblet up until he's managed to down all the contents.

Dropping the goblet, Jongin holds himself steady against the table and heaves, his face still contorted, a second away from retching.

", that was disgusting," he gasps and Chanyeol pats his back sympathetically.

He straightens up after in a deep breath and the anxiety seeps back into his expression.

Jongin’s the one who leads the way to the basement this time, pushing the door open silently. He stares up at the marks gashed into the walls, pressing his fingers to the deep claw marks on the door. Chanyeol stays silent, realizing how heavy the moment is.

Pulling the key out from his pocket, he pulls the door slowly, preparing to lock him in again. Just before he swings it shut, Jongin reaches out and catches his wrist.

"No matter what you hear or don’t hear; don’t open the door before the sun comes up,” he looks Chanyeol straight in the eye, pleading for both their sakes and Chanyeol nods in understanding. Locking the door securely, he sets up the protection spell again and deflates against the wall.

Closing his eyes, he counts down the minutes, praying and desperately hoping this will work. His hands are clasped together tightly behind his back to keep from fidgeting, frowning as he listens for any sound through the door. He's certain that the moon is up and out by now, shining in full force but there's still silence on the other side of the door.

Chanyeol's heart leaps and he rushes forward to reach for the door knob. He’s nearly yanked the door open before Jongin's words come back to him, and his hand stills.

The familiar, horrifying sound of breaking bones pierces through his thoughts, shattering his hope.  He can hear Jongin groaning, crying out in pain and Chanyeol stumbles back against the wall, sliding down to the ground. He drops his head into his hands. It didn’t work.

Jongin is passed out on the floor when Chanyeol unlocks the door at sunrise, his clothes all ripped to shreds once again.His levitation spell is a little shaky but he manages to bring Jongin upstairs onto the couch, and tucks the blanket over him.

He swallows tightly, staring at the bruises on his skin and wonders if his potion made it hurt any less. Jongin's hair falls into his eyes and Chanyeol brushes the tresses away gently, ghosting the tips of his fingers across his forehead.

He'll do it better this time. Tugging the edge of the blanket further up over Jongin's shoulder, Chanyeol heads up to the his room to study the bookshelf again.

Jongin tries to leave again the second he comes to but Chanyeol is ready for him this time, pleading with him to stay until he gets it right.

"Haven't had a roommate in a while," he jokes when it looks like he might have worn Jongin down. "I'm a bit of a slob, but this beats the forest at least, right?"

It works in bringing a small smile to Jongin's face, and he leans back tiredly though he'd been all geared up to dash out only seconds ago.

"Besides," Chanyeol reasons seriously. "I could use your help with the ingredients. I can’t do it alone."

Jongin nods, silently grateful and equally resolved to make this work.

There's only one bed in the house because Chanyeol's never had any use for a spare one.

"Seriously, the couch is fine," Jongin insists, and Chanyeol can't persuade him otherwise, even with his warnings about the cold.

Working on the antidote again from scratch isn't easy. There's a lot to do and a lot of reading to be done before that. Chanyeol tries a different approach this time, using elements from a number of different potions that seem compatible.

"It's risky," Chanyeol tells him, rummaging through his cabinet to find the simpler ingredients. "It's trial and error at this point, but I'm pretty sure I'm headed in the right direction."

Setting the jars down on the table, Chanyeol turns back to reach for a box of seeds.

"I've read up on everything I could find about these herbs, I'm positive these are the right ones," he turns to Jongin and pushes the box into his hands. "We just need to grow them in the right place at the right time."

Jongin stares down at the seeds curiously. "What's so tricky about that?"

Chanyeol grins.

“Can’t believe I’ve only been here a week and you’ve already roped me into this,” Jongin grunts, struggling with the loose branches they found to hoist up a tent. Chanyeol chuckles, turning back to the log of wood he’s working on, concentrating on getting the spell right. Hopefully this’ll keep them warm through the night without burning the tent down.

“Remind me again why we need to camp out here when the house is literally twenty minutes away?”

“We need to plant one seed every hour after the moon is at its peak till dawn and this place has the best soil and exposure for it,” Chanyeol says simply, stepping over the log to help Jongin with the flaps.

“And this is a two man job?” Jongin says, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Well, no, not this part but-” Chanyeol pouts at him. “I mean. It’d be nice to have company?”

Jongin snorts, shaking his head a little and Chanyeol grins back, pleased that he’s won him over.

“Besides,” Chanyeol calls out when Jongin crawls into the finished tent to check it out. “I brought chicken, so we can roast it while we’re out here.”

Jongin pokes his head back out through the flaps, staring at him thoughtfully for a moment.

“Okay, I’m sold,” he says finally. He holds one end of the flap open. “Now come check this out, it looks pretty neat.”

Beaming, Chanyeol picks up the flaming log, his hands protected by the shielding spell he’d managed to cast around the fire successfully, and crawls into the tent after Jongin.

“So, how long have you lived here?” Jongin asks over his hunk of chicken, shifting closer to the warmth of the fire. They’ve planted one seed so far and there’s still a while to go until the next one is due.

“About five years now,” Chanyeol hums, the grease off his fingers. It’s a great place but it’s a far cry from the kind of community Chanyeol had hoped for when he was still living in the university dorms, when he could still dream about being part of a coven somewhere.

“Just wasn’t meant for that kind of thing, I guess,” he murmurs, trying to tamp down the old, familiar pang of self deprecation rising in his chest. He’d put those self pitying thoughts behind him a long time ago, even if the isolation and loneliness never really left him.

“Been meaning to get a puppy since I’ve got the space for it, but uh-”

“You got me instead.”

Jongin smiles at him, finally having put the pieces together. Frankly, the fact that Jongin’s here should be a reminder of all the times he’s screwed up before, but this time Chanyeol can’t bring himself to regret it. Maybe, in a way, it might not be a complete screw up at all.

He catches himself staring at Jongin’s smile a beat too long before shaking himself, taking another bite from his chicken.

Jongin is still watching him closely though, studying his face a while longer before dropping his gaze.

“Must’ve been my lucky day.”

He’s still smiling when Chanyeol looks at him again, but he can’t find the sarcasm through the genuine sincerity in his eyes. Jongin’s been smiling a lot more lately, nothing like the skitterish man he met the day he summoned him. He looks happy, even though Chanyeol hasn’t done much to help him yet.

“I wasn’t always like this,” Jongin says, taking him by surprise. Jongin’s always been so careful to steer the conversation away from his past and how he got this way. Chanyeol respects that, even if he’s a little curious. He waits quietly until Jongin goes on in his own time.

“I was just bringing my horse back into the stable. It’s been a few years but it still hurts where the teeth went in,” Jongin reaches up to knead his right arm absently, his eyes glazed over as he stares into the fire. “Sometimes the worst part of it is the loneliness. Even while I’m turning, I mean- I know I need to be as far away from people as I can but...sometimes I just kind of wish, you know?”

He pauses, twisting the stick of chicken in his hands without eating it.

“My uncle knew what happened the second he found me. He personally volunteered to give this to me himself,” he tugs at the collar of his jacket to show Chanyeol the brand he’d noticed the day they met. When the villages began marking those who had been bitten, they claimed it was for self protection but it just became a way to ostracize victims more easily, to shun them aside and keep them away. The ‘mark of the devil’ they called it eventually. To make them feel like they’re beneath everyone else. Chanyeol gets that in a way, even if it’s nowhere near the same extent. He can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since Jongin met anyone who spared him a second instead of turning him away.

“Your uncle’s a ,” he says simply, heaving himself up onto his feet and brushes away the loose grass from his pants. “And that mark isn’t who you are.”

“Now come on,” he offers a hand out to Jongin where he’s still sitting, cross legged in front of the fire. “It’s almost time for the next seed.”

Jongin’s face breaks into a wide smile and he takes Chanyeol’s hand, letting him hoist him to his feet.

They take it in turns to stay up and wait for the next hour while the other crams in some sleep in between. Jongin sleeps like the dead, Chanyeol finds out when he tries to rouse him. He himself only manages to doze off lightly while Jongin stays watch, suddenly feeling wide awake and restless every time he lays his head down to rest. Jongin’s shoulder works much better anyway, indulging him and staying still when Chanyeol drops his cheek against his arm and closes his eyes. Besides; the proximity helps keep them warm.

They’re exhausted, stiff and cold by the time the sun rises and they move to pack up all their things to trudge off home.

Jongin immediately slumps face down on the couch the second they walk through the door and Chanyeol snorts, dropping his bags before traipsing on upstairs to his room. They’ll have to go back and water the seeds every couple of days but Chanyeol pushes the thought aside, slumping down on his bed. The moon will do the rest.

The temperature drops sharply and the nights have grown bitterly cold, the humidity within the walls seeping right into their bones. Jongin drags the couch a little closer to the fireplace at one point, curling up on the cushions and swaddles himself in his blanket for the night.

Chanyeol leaves him to it as usual, bidding him goodnight before hurrying up to his room, eager to climb into bed. He blows out the candle, and the warmth of his woolly quilt lulls him to sleep easily enough, blocking out the howling wind outside his window.

The sound of his door clicking open startles him awake hours later. Cracking his eyes open groggily, Chanyeol just catches the silhouette of Jongin's figure slipping into the room. He seems to pause by the door and Chanyeol waits silently for him to make a move.

He feels one end of the quilt lift off him, feeling the edge of the bed dip as Jongin crawls under the covers slowly.

Chanyeol shifts, rolling onto his side to face Jongin. "Hey."

"," Jongin hisses, startled. He freezes by the very edge of the bed. "Didn't mean to wake you. Sorry. About um...being a creep."

"It's fine," Chanyeol waves him off. "Is something wrong?"

Jongin hesitates and Chanyeol can almost feel the embarrassment dripping off him.

"Cold," he mumbles finally. "There was a draft downstairs and the fireplace went out."

Chanyeol laughs, shimmying over to the side to make space. It's about time anyway. Jongin shuffles in gratefully, dropping the quilt back over them to trap the heat between them again. There's a fair distance between them but Chanyeol's knuckles still brush along the back of Jongin's hand.

"Thank you," Jongin says quietly, pausing. Chanyeol waits, sensing that there's more.

"For never treating me like I'm something less."

Surprised, Chanyeol turns his face further against the pillow, hiding his smile even if Jongin can't see it in the dark. He slides his hand out further, finding Jongin's thumb and squeezes.

"You too."

They head out to the spot where the seeds were planted again at the end of the third week. The sky is dark with clouds, and by the time they're at the site, the rain is pouring down heavily; they're soaked through in minutes. Luckily, there's no need to camp out through the night again.

"We just have to wait for the moon's peak," Chanyeol explains, frowning when the clouds hide the moon again. "We'll only get about ten seconds to pull the plants out at the exact same time."

"Piece of cake," Jongin grunts, yanking his coat up over his head in a feeble attempt to block out the rain.

"How can you even tell when it's the right moment?" he asks curiously after a moment, turning to stare at him.

"A wizard never reveals his secrets," Chanyeol says smugly, yelping when Jongin socks him in the shoulder.

They get to the spot an hour ahead of time, just in case. Jongin looks positively miserable, arms folded against his chest and shivering under the deluge of rain matting his hair on his forehead. Chanyeol doesn’t particularly mind the rain but he turns his palms upwards and mutters an incantation under his breath anyway. It takes a couple of minutes but the spell works, more or less. The rain still falls around them but the spell holds it off them like an invisible ceiling. A few drops still make it through his botchy spellwork but Jongin looks appeased enough, leaning into his side gratefully.

“So after this it’ll be almost done, right?” he asks after a moment.

Chanyeol nods grimly, staring up at the moon. “The liquid will need a few days to settle and we’ll be right on track.”

Jongin nods, staring ahead at nothing in particular. The rain is falling so hard that Chanyeol can barely even hear himself think.

“Do you think it will work?”

He nearly misses Jongin’s words when he murmurs quietly, still staring up ahead. His shoulders are strung tensely, waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says honestly. “I hope so.”

The moon still shines clearly through the thick curtain of clouds, luckily, and Chanyeol counts the seconds under his breath waiting for the right moment. The shelter spell breaks when they step out from under it, taking their positions by the plants to wait for Chanyeol’s mark to pull them out.

“Ready?” he asks, blinking through the rain when he glances up. Jongin nods, curling his fingers around the stem of the plant. “Three, two, one, pull!”

They yank the roots out from the soil together and wrap them together in the flannel bag Chanyeol brought with him.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Jongin says perplexed, hands on his hips. “You sure your wizard mojo is working right?”

“How dare you,” Chanyeol gasps, mock affronted with a hand on his chest like he’s wounded. He tucks the flannel bag into his belt and immediately pounces on Jongin, jabbing his fingers into his side. “Can you feel the mojo now?”

Jongin yelps, twisting around and tries to get away but the grass is too slippery for him to get far. He loses his footing and tumbles down, yelling at the cold wetness and Chanyeol’s fingers following him down, still digging into his ribs. Jongin somehow wrestles him over and gets the upper hand when he pushes Chanyeol into the grass instead. It’s freezing and they’re both even more soaked through by now but Chanyeol can’t stop laughing even when Jongin manages to pin him down and tickle his sides. He tries to swat him away but Jongin grabs his wrists and holds them up over his head on the grass. The movement brings their faces much closer together, with barely a hair’s breadth between their noses. The realization that Jongin is practically straddling him hits a little late and they both freeze. Chanyeol blinks the drops of rain out of his eyes to stare up at him. He catches the way Jongin stares at his lips before looking up again, the laughter slipping off his face.

“We should, um,” Jongin swallows and Chanyeol’s eyes follow the movement of his throat. “We should get back.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says hoarsely, shivering when Jongin pulls his hands away and rolls off him.

They walk home in silence, close enough to break through the awkwardness but far enough to feel the uncertainty between them.  

They stand around the cauldron of the finished potion with a little over an hour before the full moon. Jongin fidgets nervously with the goblet in his hand, twisting it around and eyeing the murky liquid warily. He looks even more scared than the first time around. It’s tough having hope dangled before your eyes without knowing if it’ll follow through; Chaneyol gets that. He tries to push aside the sting of guilt at being the one who put it there and prays that this one will work.

Jongin’s twisted expression is telling enough about the taste of the potion when he downs the contents of the goblet. It takes him a few moments to breathe through his nose to control his gagging before he lets Chanyeol guide him down to the basement.

“Promise you won’t open before sunrise?”

Jongin curls his fingers around Chanyeol’s wrist loosely when he pulls the door open, staring at him pleadingly.

Chanyeol nods, catching Jongin’s hand in his own before letting go. He closes the door behind Jongin, too scared to look at his expression before he does. He casts the protection spell and leans back against the wall to wait. The moon will be out soon.

He doesn’t sit still for long, too fidgety to stay in one spot for too long. The other side of the door is completely silent; Jongin must be bracing himself in the far corner of the room. Chanyeol eyes keep drifting over to the window, casting anxious glances up at the sky where the moon will peak any minute now.

The silence goes on even after the moon emerges from behind the clouds, shining bright and clear. Chanyeol holds his breath and turns back to the door, feeling his heart in his throat.

The minutes tick by and still there’s nothing, maybe it finally worked, maybe-

The crack of bones shatters the thought and Chanyeol hears Jongin crying out in agony, just like every other time.

“,” Chanyeol whispers shakily, dropping down on his haunches. His hands are trembling when he brings them up to his face, feeling the hot prickle of tears burn in the corners of his eyes. He can’t bear to hear Jongin’s whimpers and howls but he can’t bring himself to try and block out the sound, like listening could somehow help him share the burden.

It feels like it goes on forever, just the sound of Jongin’s anguish echoing off the bare walls. Chanyeol has to reason with himself that bursting through the door to hold him won't do anything to ease his pain.

That train of thought is cut off by the sudden abrupt silence that closes in when Jongin’s screaming dies out. Chanyeol waits with bated breath for the thrashing and scratching to start behind the door but the silence stretches on.

Chanyeol’s mouth goes dry and heart stops. Scrambling to his feet shakily, he rushes to the door, pressing his ear to the wood desperately but he can't hear a thing from the other side to show that Jongin is still-

"Jongin?" Chanyeol calls in panic, pressing himself up closer against the door. The sheen of tears welling up in his eyes blurs his vision. Something must have gone wrong, he must have done something wrong with the potion ingredients, he’s killed him-

A sharp bark pierces through his panic and Chanyeol freezes.

“Wha-”

Another bark. Confused, Chanyeol holds his hand up, ready to take the protection spell down to get to the door but his earlier promise stills his hand. He bites his lip anxiously, desperate to see if Jongin’s okay; the bark isn’t much to go on but it’s miles better than silence. At least he knows he’s still there. Alive.

He’s too restless to go back upstairs and do something with himself until it’s over with his focus so scattered. So he backs away from the door and leans back against the wall, ignoring the cold when he slides down to sit on the bare floor to wait. The blanket he’d brought down for Jongin is enough to keep him from freezing. It’s eerily silent without the usual slamming and clawing trying to rip through the door. Instead, Chanyeol can hear the faint sounds of snuffling every now and then, wondering what the hell even happened. Leaning his head back against the wall, he closes his eyes and recites every ingredient he used over and over again, puzzling over each of them. Trying to think of what else to add.

His muscles are stiff and cold when the sun finally rises at dawn but Chanyeol nearly trips over the corner of the blanket in his haste to take down the spell and yank the door open.

Jongin is lying on his side in the corner of the room, his clothes torn to rags again. He comes to when Chanyeol drapes the blanket over him, helping him sit up. Chanyeol brushes the hair out of Jongin’s eyes, his hand lingering before he pulls it back and clears his throat.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I don’t know, I just- I still turned,” Jongin swallows, gingerly massaging the bruises Chanyeol knows are on his arms under the blanket. “But I was aware of myself. Conscious.”

He stares at his hands, looking puzzled and a little awed.

“It’s like I was still me, just in the wrong form.”

He’s smiling when he looks up at Chanyeol again, reaching out to grasp his hand weakly. Chanyeol returns the smile, feeling a burst of relief and rekindled hope in his chest.

They take long walks through the forest as often as they can when Jongin starts getting antsy, fidgeting from being cooped up in the house for too long. They’re working on making the potion again, with some minor adjustments Chanyeol added in, but it’s taking a while to make, as usual.

Besides, it’s good to get a little fresh air when the sun emerges from behind the clouds. Jongin’s been finding it easier to tell him about what his life was like before he got attacked and after that.

Chanyeol fixates on the proximity of their swinging hands when they walk side by side until he finally works up the courage to take Jongin’s hand. Jongin doesn’t look at him, keeping his eyes up straight ahead, but his fingers tighten around Chanyeol’s hand and doesn’t let go until they’re back home.

Jongin makes sparse attempts at dinner for them sometimes, taking over the kitchen from Chanyeol’s hands. They’re solid efforts really, even if he burns a lot of it along the way. His pleased smile is worth it when Chanyeol tells him it’s delicious.

The next full moon comes around soon enough and the potion is ready again.

“I want to be inside with you this time.”

“What?”

Jongin gapes at him incredulously but Chanyeol stares back resolutely. He’s done everything he can think of, there’s nothing else that can be done to the potion to make it any better. It’s perfect this time, it has to work. This time, he’ll be there to hold him through it if he has to; to be there with him so he doesn’t have to be alone.

“Chanyeol this really isn’t the time for this, I already drank the potion, the moon’s almost up-”

“Then it’s the perfect time for this,” Chanyeol insists, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him instead of staying outside. He casts the spell before Jongin can protest.

“What are you doing, it’s too risky, I could hurt you!” Jongin exclaims, yanking at the door handle in vain, his eyes wild with panic.

“You won’t hurt me,” Chanyeol says calmly, trusting him fully and finally trusting himself. “It will work.”

Jongin gives up, letting his hands slide off the door. He’s anxious and terrified, the lines of worry written all over his face when he turns to Chanyeol, his eyes glistening.

“What if I lose control?” he whispers.

“You won’t,” Chanyeol steps forward and takes Jongin’s face into his hands. “I trust you.”

He feels Jongin’s hand coming up to settle on his waist, clutching at him tightly. His eyes never leave Chanyeol’s.

“I trust you too,” he breathes finally, turning his face a fraction to nestle into Chanyeol’s palm. “You can be so goddamn stubborn, you know that?”

His mouth twists into a wobbly, exasperated smile, and Chanyeol returns it.

“Back at you.”

Jongin still wrings his hands together anxiously before leaning back against the wall with a huge sigh and slides down to the floor. Chanyeol joins him, pressing their arms up together to make up for the cold stone against their backs. The lit candles aren’t enough to warm them up.

There’s no window in this room but Jongin still throws anxious looks up at the wall where it would have been, like he’s trying to sense the moon behind it. Chanyeol doesn’t think twice about it, reaching over to take Jongin’s hand and squeezes. It draws Jongin’s attention away from the wall as he stares at their clasped hands.

“I still think this is a terrible idea,” he murmurs, turning their hands over in his lap. “It’s too dangerous and way too risky but; I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

Chanyeol tries to catch his eye but Jongin drops his head onto Chanyeol’s shoulder, hiding his face.

“Me too,” he chuckles, reaching up to pet the side of Jongin’s face. His skin is hot against Chanyeol’s palm, burning up a little higher that usual.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks in concern, coaxing Jongin up to look at him properly. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly bloodshot. “I think you’re running a fever.”

“Potion side effects?” Jongin suggests, suddenly looking exhausted.

Chanyeol is dying to look outside, positive that the moon has already risen by now. They won’t know for sure if the potion has worked until dawn comes around. Chanyeol made sure to bring a pocket watch with him to keep track of time even if they can’t look outside. It’s not all that accurate, giving more of an approximation than an exact time but it’ll have to do.

“Just don’t throw up on me, okay?”

Jongin punches him in the arm weakly before dropping his head on his shoulder again, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

Chanyeol breathes a little more easily when the first hour goes by and nothing’s happened. There’s still a long wait ahead of them but Chanyeol has hope this time.

They move around the room every now and then, when they get too stiff and cold from sitting in one place for too long. The next hour passes, and then another. Jongin’s fever burns a little higher and he feels woozy enough that Chanyeol needs to hold him steady, but his bones are still in tact. Jongin even manages to doze off on his shoulder for a while, though Chanyeol remains alert.

Neither of them wants to jinx it but by the sixth hour, Jongin looks up at him, his eyes shining with hope and b happiness that he’s trying to rein in. Chanyeol beams back at him, squeezing his hand tightly and counts the minutes and seconds under his breath until dawn comes.

He pulls out his watch almost every five minutes, staring at the minute hand crawls around the face slowly. His heart is in his throat and he can see the anxious excitement on Jongin’s face as he counts the minutes too, jiggling his leg nervously.

The minute hand passes the final hour, and ticks by. Dawn.

Jongin chokes out a short exhale, staring up at Chanyeol in disbelief. Gaping, Chanyeol stares at him back in silence, frozen by the magnitude of what just happened. Or rather, what didn’t happen.

“We should- ” Chanyeol drops the protection spell but Jongin stops him when he goes to pull the door open.

"Wait, I-," Jongin bites his lip and looks up at him. "Just in case it didn't- in case I'm still-"

"Jongin-"

He’s cut off when Jongin leans in and presses their mouths together, sliding a hand around to the back of his neck to pull him in closer. Chanyeol feels his entire chest unravel, feeling so light he’s scared he might float away. He kisses Jongin back, winding an arm around his waist to push them up together and sighs into it, feeling the heat of Jongin’s tongue and the softness of his lips. He can taste the desperation on Jongin's tongue, kissing him fervently.

They break off gasping for air and Jongin brushes their noses together, pressing a line of kisses along his cheek.

“I love you,” he breathes, and Chanyeol can feel his hands trembling where they’re still pressed against his face.

“Me too,” he says without hesitation. His chest blooms with an explosion of warmth, even with the nervous anticipation still curling in his gut.

Jongin is the one to reach for the door this time, pulling it open slowly to see a sliver of sunlight filtering in from the window at the end of the hallway. He rushes out of the room, running up to the window and stares up at the sky in awe, holding his hands up in front of his face in disbelief.

“It worked,” he whispers shakily, still looking outside. “It- Chanyeol.”

His eyes are glassy again when he turns to him and Chanyeol feels himself welling up too. It worked. The tight anxious bubble still hanging in his chest pops and Chanyeol lets out a laugh. Jongin’s face melts into a bright smile and he laughs too, the sound of their laughter echoing along the hallway.

They laugh so hard they can’t breathe, and Jongin has tears running down his face, sniffling between mirth and actually crying.

“Thank you,” he chokes out, cupping Chanyeol’s face in his hands. He's still laughing with tears streaming down his face and Chanyeol covers Jongin’s hands with his own.

Beaming, Chanyeol into his mouth again, swallowing Jongin’s shriek of laughter and kisses him until they can’t breathe anymore. He’s still flushed, probably still under the effects of the fever that hasn’t faded away with the sunrise. A small price to pay, Chanyeol thinks.

Jongin does throw up eventually, though at least he misses Chanyeol’s shoes. He spends the day bent over a bowl, trying to keep food down in his stomach without throwing it up again.

“So there are side effects,” Jongin sniffles, resurfacing anew from the bowl. Chanyeol chuckles and sits down beside him, rubbing his back gently.

“I’ll work on it,” he says cheerfully, patting Jongin’s back when he heaves into the bowl again.