Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Regulation #20: Romantic and/or sexual relations between vampire in the same coven are permitted. Vampires may maintain all traditions related to love and marriage within their own kind.

~

Gravel crunched beneath the tires of the car, and Seonghwa leaned forward in his seat, anticipation thrumming under his skin. The silhouette of the coven house came into view as Hongjoong pulled the car up to the front. He cut the engine, and then Seonghwa was out the door, standing on his own two feet with long blades of grass kissing his ankles. 

He had missed this forest. Crickets chirped and owls hooted in the depths of the night, and the ring of trees surrounding the house was illuminated only by the front porch light and the occasional firefly. A warm glow of light swelled right in front of Seonghwa, and he reached out to capture the firefly between cupped palms. 

Opening his hands, he looked at it with a smile. The firefly didn’t leave; it moved slowly over his palm, following one of the natural lines that creased his callused skin. 

A familiar presence stepped up behind him, a sharp chin hooking over his shoulder. “It likes you,” Hongjoong murmured. Onyx flitted down to rest against his other shoulder, her small body warm against the side of his neck. 

“I’ve always loved fireflies. I used to catch them in my hands all the time when I was younger, just to watch them glow for a minute before letting them go,” Seonghwa said as Hongjoong’s hands came to rest on his waist. 

“When I was young, fireflies were everywhere.” Hongjoong reached out his hand, and the firefly crawled from Seonghwa’s palm to his, glowing again. “The world was so different. More forests, and more wildlife as a result. So many fireflies, dappling the foliage of the forest much like the stars that dapple the sky. In those years, humanity felt so much closer to the earth. We were little more than animals ourselves.”

He spoke about his past so rarely, and Seonghwa turned his head to look at him. His nose was delicate but sharp from the side, eyelashes shadowing the tops of his cheeks as he watched the firefly. “Time is difficult, in that way. There are parts of the past that are better left behind, but other parts that were beautiful. You will learn what I mean eventually.” 

“I will, won’t I?” The firefly spread its wings and lifted into the night, glowing once more in farewell. They both watched it go. 

“You will become well acquainted with the passage of time, just like the rest of us,” Hongjoong said, the curve of his lips slight but enthralling. “Because from this day on, you are free to live. Forever, with the rest of us.” He paused. “With me.” 

Seonghwa smiled, his heart inflating with each breath that puffed past Hongjoong’s lips. “With you,” he echoed. 

“And me,” said Yunho from behind them. They pulled apart, and Seonghwa looked back at him, sheepish. His hands were propped on his hips, and though his glasses shrouded part of his expression, his smile was clear. “While this is very heartwarming, I think it’s time that we go home. I haven’t seen my family in weeks either, you know.” 

Sobering, Seonghwa reached for Hongjoong’s hand. He looked towards the door to the coven house, his emotions settling as they drew closer. This was where he belonged, and he was finally back. For good. 

Yunho opened the front door, stepping into the foyer, and shuffling could be heard from deeper inside. “Hongjoong?” It was Mingi’s voice, laden with anxiety. “Are they okay-” He came into view, and he skidded to an immediate stop, face slackening as he stared at Yunho. 

“We’re okay,” Yunho said, and though he wasn’t facing Seonghwa, he could still hear the smile in his voice. “We’re home now.” 

Mingi flung himself forward, colliding into Yunho’s waiting arms. He was crying, his back shaking as he held Yunho close, face buried in his neck. Seonghwa smiled as he watched them, throat burning. Yunho had missed Mingi to no end - he had spent hours talking about him at the lab facility, telling Seonghwa a bunch of old stories. The two of them had never been apart this long, attached at the hip ever since Yunho had turned Mingi all of those years ago. Sire and fledgling, now something more. 

More footsteps thudded through the house, and then Seonghwa was pulling his hand out of Hongjoong’s grip, surging forward. “Seonghwa!” cried Wooyoung, his face already streaked with tears. He was wearing pajamas, a familiar pink bunny clutched to his chest. 

He barrelled into Seonghwa’s chest, and Seonghwa held him tight, squeezing as hard as his arms would allow. He closed his eye, pressing his face to Wooyoung’s hair, breathing in the smell of him. “You’re back,” Wooyoung sobbed, clutching at his shirt, tears soaking the fabric. “I was so scared you wouldn’t come back.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Seonghwa murmured, choked up. “I missed you every day. Being away from here was so hard.” Onyx hopped to Wooyoung’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck to provide her own means of comfort. 

The others flooded into the foyer as well, the narrow space entirely packed with bodies as they joined in the embrace, pulling Hongjoong forward as well. They were a mess of intertwined arms and sobs and mending hearts, and Seonghwa was desperate to hold them all, to remain as close to his family as possible. 

Unfurling his wings, he used their massive length to wrap around all of them, pulling everyone closer. His entire coven, held within his wings, right here where they belonged. It moved him to tears, and he didn’t bother to wipe at his face, still clutching Wooyoung closer to his chest, Yeosang latched on tight to his right side, San to his left. Yunho and Mingi were right there as well, and Jongho was hugging Hongjoong so tight that Seonghwa would have feared for his circulation if he weren’t an immortalist. 

He constricted his wings further, shoving them all together, and even as sharp elbows dug into soft skin, no one complained. Seonghwa didn’t think he had ever been this happy in his life. This place, these people, would be his forever. 

“I missed all of you so much,” he said, voice still raspy from the trial. “I just wanted to come home. I wanted to come home every day. I’m never leaving any of you again.” 

San looked up at him, mouth wobbling at the corners. “But… it’s over?” he asked, tentative. “You’re - you’re free?” 

“I’m free,” Seonghwa confirmed, and with his hands already occupied, he leaned his face closer to San and pressed their cheeks together. “I’m free.” He echoed the words again and again, calming down his own riotous nerves with every utterance, their meaning sinking deeper and deeper past the defenses he had tried to hide behind to protect himself. 

He didn’t need to protect himself anymore, because the pain was over. No more suffering, no more confusion, nothing. He was free to be here with his coven, to love and be loved in return. A dull pain blossomed in his chest, spreading over the left side, right where his heart lay protected by the cage of his ribs.

The pain he felt in his chest now was a different kind of pain, and he welcomed it. The pain of a heart that had finally returned home, growing with every inhale he took within these familiar walls. When before his heart had been shriveled and black, he felt it return back to normal, back to how a heart should be. He felt it grow larger and stronger than it ever had been before. 

All eight of them remained in the foyer wrapped up in Seonghwa’s wings for a long while, until finally they migrated into the living room, falling to the couches with the fire blazing. Seonghwa fell straight into Hongjoong’s lap, curling up there, with Wooyoung and San on one side and Jongho on the other. Yeosang cuddled up with Yunho and Mingi on one of the other couches, and Seonghwa kept stealing glances at all of the faces around him, to make sure this was all real. 

He explained everything that he had been through, with supplemented information from Yunho and eventually Hongjoong, too. He didn’t find it so hard to revisit everything, even the worst moments, because he was out. The air around him smelled of home, of candle wax and old wood, of the warm fire beside them. Every breath was a reminder of where he was now, and where he would stay forever. In this place, with these people, he could face anything. 

Once all was said and done, he had one thing left to say. “Thank you for saving me. All of you. The day I put in that feeder application wound up changing my entire life, though I hadn’t known it at the time. You… you showed me how to love, how to let myself be taken care of. You showed me how to love parts of myself that I used to hate. I owe everything to you. Everything.” 

“You don’t owe us a thing,” Jongho said without hesitation. “You never have. We love you, and we want you here with us. It’s that simple.” 

The others echoed his words, all looking to him now, and he didn’t resist the smile that curved over his lips. “Thank you. It - it’s hard for me to accept things like that, but I’m trying. I’m trying to change my view of the world, of how I need to behave in order to survive.” He swallowed, his next words escaping quickly, before he could lose his nerve. “I want to do something that matters. You all have done everything for me; I want to be something important for you, too. I want to have a role here, now that I’m not sick anymore.” 

“You already have a role,” Yeosang replied, eyes glittering in the firelight. “Our coven has been ruled by a king for centuries, since its inception, but we’ve always needed a queen.” 

Seonghwa blinked at him, lips parting in surprise. “A… a queen?” 

“Well, it is self explanatory darling, is it not?” A slight smirk pulled at Hongjoong’s lips, and the dancing flames casted shadows over his balanced features. He was wickedly handsome, so much so that Seonghwa nearly missed his next words. “If I am the king of this coven, you are the queen. You always have been, though you did not realize it until now.” 

Spluttering, Seonghwa shook his head. “But I’m - I’m just a fledgling! When I said I wanted to have a role, I meant something like… oh, I don't know, being the designated laundry person. I’m really good at laundry,” he said lamely, and Wooyoung snickered. “I’m not fit to be a queen! I don’t know the first thing about any of this. I’m-” 

“Park Seonghwa, Vampire Queen,” Mingi considered, the words rolling from his tongue. “It has a nice ring to it. Feels right.” 

“But-” 

“Queen of the Immortalists,” Yunho mused. “You’re right, love. The wings add something important to the image, too. I reckon he’d look downright regal in the type of garb Hongjoong is always wearing.” 

“I-”

“Remember how he looked at the masquerade? Sitting on Hongjoong’s council seat, center stage? They looked like royalty up there,” Wooyoung gushed, untangling himself from Seonghwa’s arms to sit up straight, wired with passion. 

“Guys,” Seonghwa interrupted, finally able to get a word in. “This is silly. Vampires don’t have royalty, even I know that. There’s a council, and coven leaders, and that’s all. I appreciate your kind words, but I’m really nothing special in that regard.” 

Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “Perhaps we do not use formal royal roles, but many vampires have titles that are lauded even through the passage of time. It is not unusual.” 

“I’ve never heard anyone use a title for you,” Seonghwa countered, raising a brow. 

“Ah, but they do. You have seen little, in the grand scheme of our world. Your world, now.” 

“They call him ‘The King’,” Mingi piped up with pride. “Always have, ever since his role in making the regulations. Killing all of the immortalists on the continent helped, too.” 

“So, it’s only fitting for you to be his queen,” Wooyoung finished, winking at Seonghwa. Onyx was still on his shoulder, and much to Seonghwa’s exasperation, she winked as well. How did she even manage to do that? 

Seonghwa reached out a hand, and she hopped into his palm. “Stop corrupting her,” he said to Wooyoung, who stuck out his tongue. “I’ve done nothing to gain a title. Seonghwa is good enough for me.” 

Studying him, Hongjoong nodded. “That is fine. But you will see; in a few decades’ time, you may change your mind. You may not have a choice in it at all - a title may be given to you by the other vampires in this city.” 

Stroking a hand over Onyx’s head, Seonghwa shrugged. “I don’t think that will happen. I have no plans to do anything worth being titled for. I just want to spend time with my coven, and enjoy my years as they come. I’ve never been able to do that.” 

The mood softened, and Wooyoung burrowed back into Seonghwa’s arms. Onyx wrapped her wings around his neck, as close to an embrace as she could give. Seonghwa ran the pad of his index finger down her back, trailing it over her wings as well, hoping that it would feel as nice for her as it did for him. 

They stayed out in the living room for a while longer, with the rest of the coven asking to see Seonghwa’s wings and fawning over them. Their seats shuffled around, everyone wanting a turn to be near him. He wasn’t used to such prolonged attention, but it made him feel special, and he fought his exhaustion for as long as he could just to stay around them. But he couldn’t fight it forever, and eventually Hongjoong came to sit beside him, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear with a gentle hand. 

“You look exhausted,” he murmured, and Seonghwa blinked hard, for his intact eyelid had been half closed. He hadn’t had a proper sleep in a while, not since his last night here. Sleeping at the facility had been difficult, even with Yunho there. 

“I don’t want to go,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye with a loosely curled fist. “Want to stay here with everyone.” 

Hongjoong chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup Seonghwa’s chin instead, fingers thin and delicate. “I know, darling. But they will be here tomorrow when you wake. And every day after that. You do not need to fear losing any of us anymore.” 

He was right, and Seonghwa could barely keep his eye open, so he relented. With a yawn, he rose from the couch, tucking his wings in close to his back. Mingi was already asleep, sprawled over Yunho and Jongho with his mouth open wide, every exhale carrying a garbled snore along with it. Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang all watched Seonghwa stand, eyes wide. 

“I’m going to sleep,” he announced, leaning into Hongjoong to avoid swaying on his feet. “It’s been a long night.” 

Wooyoung bounced to his feet, full of entirely too much energy for this point in the night. “We’ll see you when you wake up,” he said, tucking into Seonghwa’s arms for one last hug, squeezing him tight. “Can I keep Onyx with me? San and I want to show her how to play Mario Kart.” 

Seonghwa’s sleep-addled mind needed a moment to make sense of that sentence. “She’s a bat,” he said bluntly. She nuzzled into his neck as he spoke, and he cupped a hand over her, feeling the small muscles and bones underneath her furred skin. “She can’t play video games.” 

“But she’s smart! She can figure it out,” Wooyoung insisted, and Seonghwa sighed. He was relentless, and San was no better, eyes sparkling as he waited for Seonghwa’s answer. He couldn’t say no to them. 

“If she wants to stay with you two, that’s fine with me,” he ceded, and Onyx flapped over to them happily, landing on top of San’s head. Yeosang rolled his eyes, but they would rope him into playing too, no doubt. 

“I am taking him to bed,” Hongjoong said with finality. They all said their goodbyes, and Seonghwa embraced them all, even Mingi’s sleeping form, before letting Hongjoong guide him upstairs. When they reached the second floor landing, all was quiet. The dark wood creaked under their feet, and it sounded like home. 

They moved down the hall, but Seonghwa stopped in his tracks before they could reach his door. “Um… can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked, pulling his sleeves over his hands. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

Without a word, Hongjoong changed direction, heading for his own door and pushing it open. They entered, and the entire space smelled like him. It looked the same as it always had, and Seonghwa could almost pretend he had never left at all. 

In a haze of exhaustion, he sat down on the edge of the bed, melting into the mattress. Hongjoong stopped in front of him, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Can I help you change out of these clothes?” he asked gently, and Seonghwa nodded. Hongjoong would never hurt him, not like all of those other people had. 

Hongjoong lifted the shirt over Seonghwa’s head, taking it off and letting it fall to the floor. He knelt down, carefully removing Seonghwa’s shoes as well, and peeling his socks away from his feet. These small acts of service teemed with love, and Seonghwa couldn’t look away as Hongjoong gently removed his pants as well, leaving him in his underwear. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, reaching for Hongjoong’s wrist before he could go over to his dresser to grab new clothes. “For always helping me.” 

A soft smile transformed Hongjoong’s face, the kind that he reserved for when they were alone. “I will always help you. I just want you to be safe and happy.” 

“I am.” Seonghwa returned the smile. “Finally, I am.” 

Hongjoong leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Seonghwa’s forehead, before stepping away and retrieving two pairs of pajamas from his dresser. They were both plain, white buttoned shirts with drawstring bottoms, and he guided each of Seonghwa’s legs into the pants before buttoning the shirt over his chain-scarred chest. He trailed a finger over the lines of chains, expression unreadable. 

Self conscious, Seonghwa stared down at his lap. “I have scars everywhere now,” he murmured. “Chains all over me, and my neck and back are a complete mess. I barely recognize myself.” 

Grabbing at the collar of his own shirt, Hongjoong pulled it over his head, revealing the familiar plane of his bare chest. He bore plenty of scars of his own from his days spent as a hunter, but they were faded now, small reflective stripes over his skin. Beautiful, actually, like the reflection of the sun over gentle waves, glittering in thin striations. 

He dropped the shirt, and Seonghwa noticed the scars over his arms, hidden by his sleeves before. Newer than the rest, still irritated and pink, raised from the surrounding skin. Seonghwa gasped softly, pressing a hand to his mouth. “You… you too?” 

Scars in the shape of chains stretched up his arms, from his wrists to his shoulders, identical to the ones that Seonghwa bore. Hongjoong didn’t say a word, fixing Seonghwa with a gaze that held a world of understanding. 

“I told you that you should have let go of me!” Seonghwa protested, as if that would make the scars go away. As if he could have changed Hongjoong’s mind, when all he had wanted was to share some of Seonghwa’s pain. “They scarred you too. I… I had no idea.” 

“The scars do not bother me,” Hongjoong said, kneeling down before Seonghwa, taking his hands. “They tell a story of a time when you were in chains and I held you anyway. We will share these marks for eternity, as a reminder of what we overcame. There are worse things.” 

Seonghwa swallowed, his vision blurring. He trailed his gaze over Hongjoong’s scars, so similar to his own, evidence of where chain links had branded his skin. He used their joined hands to guide Hongjoong’s arms to his waist, to the same place they had rested that day. With shaking fingers, he unbuttoned the pajama shirt again, sliding it off and letting it lay on the mattress. 

He looked down at his scarred chest, a shaky gasp catching in his throat. Seonghwa’s scars seemed to lift from his own skin to continue onto Hongjoong’s arms, like they were both a part of one continuous canvas. The chain marks had repulsed him from the moment he had noticed them, but now his perception of them twisted, his mind captivated by this union of their bodies. With Hongjoong holding him like this, their scars became art, a representation of all they had been through and all they had overcome. It moved him to tears, and he tasted salt in the seam of his lips. 

“You see, the scars are not so terrible,” Hongjoong said gently. “You will never have to bear them alone.” 

In one easy movement, Seonghwa fell forward into Hongjoong’s arms, both of their chests bare. He needed this contact, skin to skin, and the tears continued to fall as Hongjoong lifted him carefully into his arms. Cradling him like an infant, he lay back against the bed, letting Seonghwa cling to him. He never broke the embrace, and he shifted his hands to coax Seonghwa’s wings to unfold, letting them stretch to their full wingspan. 

They extended from one end of the room to the other, and Hongjoong gently stroked the base of each wing, calming Seonghwa down further with every touch. He fell limp in Hongjoong’s hold, his mind fuzzy with pleasure. His wings were so sensitive, far more than the rest of his body, and the feeling induced by Hongjoong’s soft touches was indescribable. 

A soft, contented sound fell from his lips, and Hongjoong’s chest rumbled with a quiet laugh. “Feels good?” 

Seonghwa nodded, raising his head enough to look at him. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Feels really good.” He was half asleep, lulled into a state of complete tranquility, and his focus heedlessly fell to Hongjoong’s lips. They were pink, despite the pale pallor of the rest of him. A slight dip indented the center of his top lip, and the corners of his mouth were perfect, turned upwards in a knowing grin. 

“I want to kiss you now,” Seonghwa breathed, those hands on his wings lowering his inhibitions. He needed to feel those lips on his own, to taste Hongjoong’s mouth, to feel the hard edges of his fangs. 

“I want you terribly,” Hongjoong said, equally as soft, before leaning forward and capturing Seonghwa’s lips with his own. They were even softer than he remembered, and a breathy sound escaped him, muffled by the press of Hongjoong’s mouth. The kiss was slow but ripe with intent, and Hongjoong shifted his hands along the base of Seonghwa’s wings, gripping their strong upper edges. That pulled an even louder sound out of him, and Hongjoong inclined his head, deepening the kiss. 

It was everything Seonghwa had ever wanted. Hongjoong’s tongue parted the seal of his mouth, and the heat was intoxicating. He gasped, but the sound was lost in their clash, and he shifted his legs up to bend his knees, straddling Hongjoong’s waist. They had done this before, back when he was human, but the regulations always hung over them. 

Now, it was no longer forbidden, and they were both determined to make up for lost time. Seonghwa ran his hands over Hongjoong’s bare chest, tracing the scars on his arms. Hongjoong did the same with the chain scars on Seonghwa’s wings, his back, his stomach. His hands were skillful, every touch a ghosting whisper of more, and Seonghwa could do nothing but come completely undone in his arms. 

He had no need to worry, because Hongjoong was there to catch him, to carefully unravel his defenses until all of the weight, the stress, the fear, was gone. He hadn’t known how badly he needed this, not until Hongjoong rolled him over, his head falling back against the pillow. Hoongjoong hovered over him, beautiful with swollen lips, pupils heavy with desire. 

“Let me take care of you,” he breathed, panting softly. Vampires didn’t need to breathe, and yet he was still this affected; that realization did funny things to Seonghwa’s heart. “Let me show you how beautiful you are, scars and all.” 

Seonghwa hooked his hands around Hongjoong’s neck, pulling his face down to brush their noses together. He pressed a lingering kiss to Hongjoong’s lips. “You really want that?” he asked, the two of them sharing the same air, still chests pressed together. 

“I want you.” The admission was a soft growl, edged with barely concealed lust. “I want every part of you. Every scarred, beautiful, divine part.” 

Wetting his lips, Seonghwa stared back at him. “Then have me.” 

And Hongjoong did. He pulled Seonghwa apart, piece by piece, nerve by nerve. He worshiped his scars and his soul and everything in between. With the devotion of a disciple, he drew sounds of pleasure from Seonghwa’s lips, murmuring soft words into his skin, imprinting promises beside his scars. He brought Seonghwa to the stars, and in their union the two of them glowed just as bright, overflowing with all of the emotions that they could finally allow themselves to feel. 

When Seonghwa returned to earth, it was with Hongjoong’s name on his lips, where it belonged. Where it would stay, for the rest of time. 

~

The bottoms of Seonghwa’s boots sank into the tilled dirt, damp from the previous night’s rain. All around him, the air was oddly still, undisturbed by life, as if he had entered a closed realm. He reached for Wooyoung’s hand to steady himself, stomach twisting. “The air is different here,” he murmured. They were alone, but he still felt the need to keep his voice down, so as to not disturb those who were resting.

“I know. This place feels like a piece of the world, frozen in time.” Wooyoung stepped over a rock, guiding Seonghwa forward by the hand. The moon hung over them, a few days shy of full. “She’s right up here.” 

They came to a stop in front of a gravestone, painted with tendrils of lichen, small patches of moss clinging to the indented inscription. Seonghwa had never been to a graveyard, and he followed Wooyoung’s lead when he sat right there in the dirt. The gravestone was still in good condition, made from thick grey stone, the edges bordered with delicate detailing. 

Wooyoung’s mother’s name was inscribed on the stone, followed by the years she had lived, and a small epitaph. It read: Forever an angel. 

With a heavy heart, Seonghwa rested a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder. Onyx was with them as well, and she huddled close to Wooyoung’s neck, sensing his grief. “I miss her,” he murmured, eyes glossy. “I still do, every day.” 

“What was she like?” Seonghwa asked, and he listened as Wooyoung told him about her, this wonderful woman whom he would never meet. She sounded a lot like him, and it made Seonghwa smile. This was cathartic for Wooyoung; he wept for her, and trailed his fingers over her engraved name, and a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. 

They stayed with his mother for a while, until Wooyoung wiped his eyes and rose to his feet, dusting the dirt from his pants. Seonghwa rose as well, and he fingered the strap of the bag over his shoulder, suddenly anxious. 

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung said, guiding Seonghwa to a bare patch of dirt right beside his mother’s stone. “This is the right space for them. She will keep them company, so they can finally rest.” 

Seonghwa’s lips trembled, and he lowered his bag to the ground, opening the top. Inside were three small gravestones, specially made at his request. He took out the largest one, staring at it, unable to put his emotions into words. 

He had never known his mother, but he would have liked to. He wished that he could tell stories about her, the same as Wooyoung had just done, but he couldn’t. All he could do was remember her belatedly, searching deep in his memories for some hint of her smile, a small shred of her voice. He hadn’t even known her name, not until he looked through the trial transcripts to find it. 

With a shuddering sigh, he crouched down, using his hands to dig a small trench in the soft dirt. He placed the base of the stone in the ground, following the instructions he had been given. When the stone was in deep enough, he packed the dirt around it, setting it in place. 

The next stone was smaller, for his older sister, the one who had been killed by vampires. She had only been three at the time. He placed her stone beside his mother’s on the right side, digging out the dirt by hand. He wanted to use his hands for this; he wanted them to feel his touch. To know that someone would remember them. 

His younger sister’s stone was last. She had only been an infant, and her stone was the smallest. He placed it to the left of his mother’s, and the size of the trench he dug in the dirt was so small that tears blurred his vision. She had never even lived. She had died before saying her first word, or taking her first steps. Before ever knowing who she was. 

He sat back on his heels when he was done, and he cried into his dirt-stained hands. He cried for all they were, and all they could have been. He cried for the injustice of it all, the frustration that he couldn’t remember them at all, not really. They were his family, and he didn’t know the first thing about any of them. 

Wooyoung sat beside him, guiding Seonghwa’s head to his shoulder, letting him cry for as long as he needed. Onyx curled into his palm, wrapping her wings around the back of his hand. They let him know that he wasn’t alone, but they let him dwell in his grief for as long as he needed. 

“I hate that I never really knew them,” he said eventually, once he had recovered enough to speak. His remaining eye was swollen and heavy, his skin raw from the salt of his tears. “I didn’t know they existed until Yunho figured out the truth. I had no idea that I ever had a family, that they suffered this much.” 

“They don’t suffer anymore,” Wooyoung reminded gently, carding a hand through Seonghwa’s hair. “Their souls aren’t gone. I don’t believe that people die, and then they cease to exist entirely. Somehow, somewhere, they’re still around. And they see what you do for them now.” 

Dragging a hand over his face, Seonghwa nodded. “It’s not fair that he still lives, after all that he did to them. He ruined us all, and he’s still alive.” 

“Not without pain. Hongjoong told you that. Death would be a sweet escape for him.” That much was true - Seonghwa had asked Hongjoong about his father, about the strange way he talked. He had been burned terribly in the fire that had killed Seonghwa’s mother, permanently mutilating the front of his body. The skin of his face had melted, and he had no lips with which to form words clearly. The mere thought made Seonghwa shudder, but it was just a drop in the bucket of the suffering he deserved. 

Still, he drew a bit of comfort from the thought, and he let the topic drop. He didn’t want to allow that man to occupy any room in his mind; he didn’t have the right. 

The two of them sat there in the cemetery for a long time, conversing softly about grief, sharing in it together. And by the time they left, Seonghwa felt lighter. He would always wish that things had gone differently for his family, that they had been able to live as they deserved, but the most he could do for them now was to come visit their graves and hold their memory close. In a matter of years, his mortal father would die, but Seonghwa would live forever. He would hold the shortened lives of his mother and sisters close, and their memory would vastly outlive that of his father. 

When they finally moved to leave, dawn just a short while away, Seonghwa gave the three graves one last, lingering look. Each of their names were engraved on the stone, with a few words scrawled beneath, forming one joined epitaph. He had wanted to link them somehow, even in death. Maybe it would help their souls to find each other, to stay together. 

Forever cradled on the grave of his infant sister. 

in the hands on the grave of his mother.

of the earth on the grave of his older sister. 

“We can come back as often as you want,” Wooyoung said as the two of them left the cemetery, walking back into the woods towards the coven house. “I’d like to come more often, now that things are back to the way they should be.” 

Seonghwa nodded, watching as Onyx flew a short distance ahead of them, twirling and spinning in the air. He wanted to fly again, but he hadn’t tried yet. His wings were itching to spread open wide, to lift him into the sky and catch the wind. His heart longed to soar. 

He took Wooyoung’s hand, and the two of them meandered through the trees, enjoying each other’s company. For the rest of his life, every day would be like this. He still wasn’t quite used to it; sometimes when he woke in the middle of the night, he feared he was still in that sterile laboratory, that his life was still in the hands of the council. But with every breath of crisp forest air, every crunch of branches underfoot, he relaxed further into this new chance at life. 

~

Seonghwa was upstairs in his room when Hongjoong came knocking. The day had just begun, and most of the others had retreated to their beds to rest, but he didn’t feel tired just yet. He sat at his desk, tinkering with the new lego set Mingi had bought for him. He was at peace, defenses down when Hongjoong arrived.

“Come in,” he called, turning in his chair just as Hongjoong opened the door, his face appearing. He didn’t open it all the way. 

“Good, you are awake. I want you to meet me downstairs when I beckon you,” Hongjoong said. He was up to something, the impish grin on his face made that quite clear, and Seonghwa stood from his chair as he nodded. He had learned not to ask questions when Hongjoong was up to something like this, but anticipation quickened his steps as he waited by his door. 

Hongjoong vanished, heading downstairs. Seonghwa waited for a few minutes, his fingers drumming against his door until Hongjoong’s voice carried up from the base of the stairs. “Okay, you can come down now.” 

Bottom lip caught between his teeth, Seonghwa left his room and went to the stairs, coming to a stop at the top as he realized what Hongjoong had done. He brought his hands to his mouth, scanning over the room, taking everything in. 

The first floor was always lined with large white candlesticks, but now they had multiplied tenfold, boxing the entirety of the floor area before the living room. The grand piano near the stairs was covered in them as well, and the candlelight shrouded the entire room in a warm, flickering orange hue, much like the glow of a firefly. 

Hongjoong waited at the base of the stairs, dressed in pajamas, same as Seonghwa. The candles illuminated his skin, reflected in his dark irises, banishing shadows from his face. He was so beautiful, and Seonghwa struggled to find his breath for a moment, enraptured by the sight of him. 

“What is this?” he breathed, descending the steps, the polished railing smooth under his palm. Hongjoong extended a hand, and Seonghwa placed his own within it as he reached the end of the stairs. 

Guiding him towards the piano, Hongjoong gently pushed him down to sit on the bench. “I have a few things I want to give you,” he said, fangs gleaming in the candlelight as he grinned. Seonghwa watched with open curiosity as he reached under the piano, where he had stashed a box. 

He pulled something small out first, and it glittered in his hands. “I made this for you. You do not have to wear it, but I wanted you to have the option.” He held it out for Seonghwa to see - an eyepatch. Made from black velvet, it was the most luxurious eyepatch he had ever seen, studded with precious gemstones. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires; all kinds of jewels covered the surface, and trails of them dripped down from the bottom edge like vines. He took it into his hands, admiring how the stones twinkled. 

“Of course I will wear it,” he murmured, captivated by the sight of it, the meticulous design work that Hongjoong had somehow done by hand. “How could you have possibly made this? These strands of gems… they’re so delicate.” 

“They are more durable than they look,” Hongjoong informed, his smile blinding now that he knew Seonghwa liked the gift. “Please, put it on. I want to make sure it fits you.” 

Seonghwa did as he was told, raising the eyepatch to fit around his head. The velvet patch was padded and comfortable, and it was a comfort against his scarred socket. The tendrils of gems brushed down his cheek, resting gingerly on the skin there, decorating his features. Somehow, Hongjoong had measured their length perfectly; they followed the natural shape of his cheekbone, highlighting his bone structure. 

“How does it look?” he asked, brushing his fingers over the gems, unable to believe that something this beautiful was for him. 

Hongjoong stepped closer to him, using a finger to tip Seonghwa’s chin upwards. “It looks breathtaking,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to Seonghwa’s parted lips. “But that is not all.” 

He turned again, and he proceeded to pull out heaps of fabric, cut into luxurious clothing, regal and timeless in design. “I made a host of new clothing for you, with seamed slits for your wings, measured to size,” he explained, and Seonghwa couldn’t believe the sheer amount of clothes he had made. Shirts, pants, skirts, corsets, capes, cloaks, gowns, hooded shawls, lacy veils… the options were endless, and each was more beautiful than the last. 

These were clothes fit for a queen, and Seonghwa reached out to touch the fabrics, unable to tear his gaze away. “How did you make all of these?” he breathed. “These… these are beautiful. I could wear clothes like these for eternity and never get tired of it.” 

Hongjoong’s grin turned wicked. “I was hoping you would say that, because there is far more where this came from. You are a muse to me, darling. Designing and creating things for you comes easy to me. And that brings me to the last thing I want to show you.” 

He set the clothes back down into the box, pulling out something else and pushing it beneath the piano once more. The thing in his hands was a small speaker, and he set it down on top of the piano, hand hovering over one of the buttons on the top. “Do you recall when I recorded your heartbeat all those months ago?” 

Seonghwa’s eye widened, and he nodded. “Of course I do.” 

“I made that song, like I told you I would. I made an orchestral piece, just as you requested. Each of the instruments in this song is played by myself, recorded and layered into one. It is my hope that you will be able to draw comfort from it, as a reminder of your humanity.” 

Before Seonghwa could say a word, he pressed the button, and a dull click sounded before the music began. Immediately, Seonghwa stopped breathing, for he didn’t want to miss any of it. The steady throb of his heartbeat was audible in the background of the piece, but the music over top was nothing short of incredible. It was slow, steady, and somehow held everything he had never been able to say, all of the emotions that he had grappled with for so long. 

Hope contrasted sorrow, and desperation was edged with grace. When one theme darkened, the next brought him back into the light. In every sense of the word, it was perfect, and Seonghwa listened with rapture until the very end, his cheeks wet and his heart warm with the knowledge that one person in this world understood him in his entirety and loved him for all that he was. 

“That was beautiful,” he murmured, struggling to find the words to describe how he felt. “I - I don’t know what to say-” 

Hongjoong reached for him, pulling him up from the piano bench as the song started again, playing on loop. “I do not need you to say a word. Everything you feel is written on your face.” He brushed away Seonghwa’s tears, letting his arms rest at his waist. “Will you dance with me, darling?” 

They hadn’t danced since the masquerade, and here they stood now in their pajamas, surrounded by dozens of candles and enveloped in the most beautiful song. Seonghwa smiled, arms wrapping around Hongjoong’s neck. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Together they swayed, a slower dance than their previous one, full of all the love they had now confessed for one another. Being close to Hongjoong was easy, and Seonghwa melted into his arms, moving with him in sync to the intertwining melodies. “I love you,” he said, because now he could. 

With their cheeks pressed together, he couldn’t see Hongjoong’s face, but he felt his smile just the same. “I love you with the light of a thousand suns,” he murmured, ever the romantic. “And the depths of the deepest night, and the ease of the ocean as it laps at the shore. I used to wonder why someone like me would be given the chance to live forever, when I never wanted it to begin with, but my perspective on that has changed. Loving you is what I was made for.” 

Seonghwa brushed his fingers through the hair at the nape of Hongjoong’s neck. “I think you’re right, because it feels as if… as if we were created in tandem. Maybe my soul got lost, and it took me a little longer to get here, but I think the threads that intertwine us are ancient.” 

Hongjoong hummed his agreement, and Seonghwa caught the room’s reflection in the side of the grand piano. From this vantage point, the room itself looked entirely empty, a ring of candles with no one inside. Neither of them had a reflection this time, and yet Seonghwa had never felt more real than he did in this moment. 

“I want to do something,” he blurted when the music lulled, before the next loop began.

Hongjoong pulled back enough to look at him, the two of them still dancing slow, moving in sync. “You know I will do anything you wish,” he replied. 

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Seonghwa finally breached the topic he had been wishing to ask about since his first trial. “Were all twenty regulations made at once?”

“Most, but not all. The later regulations were added after, usually after a trial of importance that was deemed cause enough for a new one. A council member has to petition for an addition, and it goes under review - it is an in depth process.” 

Digesting that, Seonghwa let the silence linger for a moment before he spoke again. “I think there should be a new regulation,” he finally said, and the candles seemed to dance higher, encasing them in a ring of fire. “I think there has to be one, after how I was treated simply because I exist. It makes me sick when I think about it.” His mouth twisted, saliva bittering. 

“A new one?” Hongjoong raised his brows, surprised. 

Not letting it deter him, Seonghwa pushed forward. “I’ve heard of that thing that they say in human courts. ‘Innocent until proven guilty’, or something like that. Right?” 

“Yes. But in the joint and vampire courts, we do not abide by the same rule.” 

“Why not?” Seonghwa exclaimed, louder than intended. He couldn’t help it - he had rarely felt so passionate about anything in his life, and he was through with the injustice of it all. “Why do humans deserve to be assumed innocent until proven otherwise, but I don’t? I had to fight an uphill battle every time I stood in that council building. It’s not right - I’m a person, whether my heart beats or not.” 

Watching him with gentle eyes, Hongjoong ran over the bottom bone of Seonghwa’s ribs with his thumbs, soothing him. “What regulation would you propose?” 

“A regulation that prevents the council members from discriminating against anyone, human or vampire, simply because they exist. A regulation that requires vampires to be proven guilty, with actual evidence. Why is execution the immediate answer to everything? Why do we seek to kill anyone who is different? The system itself is appalling. It’s - it’s rancid. And if I’m going to live forever, then I have to do something to fix it. I owe it to anyone out there who’s just like me.” 

He was firm in his convocation, and Hongjoong studied his face for a moment before cracking a smile. “What? It’s not funny,” Seonghwa said, palms sweating. 

“No, I am not laughing at your idea. I think you are right, and I think that you are going to change the world, darling. I am only smiling because I like this side of you. I have rarely ever seen it, but I think you are most beautiful when that fire inside of you blazes bright. It is blinding.” 

Seonghwa blinked at him. “I… really?” 

“Yes. And I will help you to achieve anything you wish, you should know that by now. But I would like to do some… other things, first.” His hands tightened around Seonghwa’s waist, and he took a step forward, forcing Seonghwa to take one back. In moments, his back was pressed to the grand piano, and arousal was adding fuel to his fire. 

Hongjoong grinned at him, and their lips crashed together, both of them rushing forward at once. This kiss was nothing like the one on the night of Seonghwa’s return; it was frenzied from first contact, a clash of teeth and tongue. Seonghwa licked over Hongjoong’s fangs, drawing a gruff sound out of him. He pushed Seonghwa further into the piano, taking his hands, pinning them back. 

“A long time ago,” Hongjoong breathed, speaking into the kiss, “you told me that you did not think you could handle me. Do you remember?” 

Of course he did. That night out on the porch, when Hongjoong had caged him against the railing, setting his skin on fire as his chest pressed against Seonghwa’s back. “How could I ever forget?” he said back, catching Hongjoong’s bottom lip in his mouth, running his teeth over it softly. 

Hongjoong lost himself for a moment, deepening the kiss, and he didn’t finish his thought until he managed to pull back again, breathless. “You had it wrong.” His throat moved as he swallowed, pulling back just enough to look down at where their bodies pressed together. “I am the one who is having a hard time.” 

Lips curving, Seonghwa trailed a hand down Hongjoong’s face, catching his chin and holding it. Holding his head in place, he pressed a soft kiss to the hard line of his jaw, trailing down his neck. He wasn’t typically so bold, but in his newfound freedom, he had gained confidence. Hongjoong stiffened when Seonghwa focused on the former pulse point at the hollow of his throat, now still but quite sensitive. 

“You give me plenty of trouble,” he said, lips moving against Hongjoong’s neck. “I’d say we’ve both met our match.” 

And was that not the beauty of it? They constantly pushed and pulled one another, in the safety of the love they had founded. Seonghwa was comfortable with intimacy for the first time in his life. When Hongjoong touched him, he did not remember the unwanted hands that had come before him. All he knew was the sweat that pooled along his skin, the air that he pulled in gasps, the lips that parted his own. This was all he ever wanted to know, for the rest of his days. 

Hongjoong played him like an instrument, and Seonghwa rose to the challenge, learning a few tricks of his own. Now when they moved to the heartbeat beneath the song Hongjoong had composed, their dance was different. The candles flickered, the only witnesses as they came together, still hearts and cold fingers and matching scars. The chains joined as Hongjoong held Seonghwa tight, mouth on his neck as his back pressed into the piano, shared scars fusing two halves of the same soul.

~

At sundown a few nights later, Seonghwa was determined to fly. His wings were itching for it, and he had been restless for days, constantly adjusting them and stretching them out. All of his friends had noticed, but he had wanted to enjoy his time with them, so he had kept it to himself. He didn’t want to let any of them out of his sight, now that they were together again. 

But the sky was calling, and he couldn’t resist it any longer. He stood out on the front lawn, overgrown grasses tickling his ankles as he stared up at the sky, the moon heavy and full. If he extended his hand, he swore he could almost touch it. The night was lighter because of its pale yellow glow, and even if he flew up high, his coven would be able to watch him. 

They all stood a few steps behind him, and this was so similar to the night his wings had erupted from his back, though he tried to keep that memory away. His back was healed, and his wings were covered in chain scars, and a soft breeze blew the hair out of his eyes. 

Onyx fluttered around in front of him, dipping and gliding, shifting her wings effortlessly to keep herself afloat. Watching her was mesmerizing, and Seonghwa couldn’t imagine ever reaching that level of agility, but that was okay. Flying alone was a miracle, the one gift bestowed upon him in this whole mess. 

“Do it!’ San called out, bouncing with eagerness. “Fly, Seonghwa!” They all cheered for him, and the moon seemed to glow brighter, beckoning him to come closer. With a deep breath, Seonghwa unfurled his wings to their full wingspan, without the restrictions of walls or chains. 

He flapped them once, and his feet lifted from the ground. The sheer power in his wings was magic, and he flapped again, rising higher and higher. A joyous laugh bubbled right out of him, and he flapped harder, until he cleared the treeline. He didn’t want to risk colliding with the forest, but up here, the sky was clear. 

Onyx spiraled right in front of him, close enough for him to hear her. Catch me if you can, she teased, before shooting off into the night. 

Grinning, Seonghwa chased after her, pushing his wings to their limit. The last time he had flown, he had been dazed with a combination of drugs and pain, and he had barely managed to reach a tree before falling unconscious. Now, his experience was inhibited by nothing, and he could see everything. 

He flew low enough for his feet to graze the top leaves of the trees, and he flew high enough to see the city as a whole, all flickering lights and grids of buildings. Onyx flew in circles around him, chirping with glee as they took on the skies together. She did a flip in the middle of the air, and Seonghwa tried to copy her, surprised to find that he could execute the move with ease. 

As he followed her, he looked up at the sky, and he nearly forgot to keep his wings level. He skidded off kilter, but he fixed his course quickly, looking up again. The stars… he could see them up here. Really see them. Hongjoong had shown him the stars long ago, because they were almost impossible to see in the city, but they had looked nothing like this. 

Stars filled every square inch of the sky, like a blanket over the earth. Some were larger than others, but they all twinkled, tiny pinpricks that were actually huge, roaring balls of flaming gas. Seonghwa’s world had always been restricted to his corner of the city, the inside of his car and the few places he dared to enter when he needed something. But now, he held the whole world in his hands. 

He flew up higher, and he extended his hands, letting out a loud cry. The wind snatched the sound straight away, and he blinked, lips still parted. It occurred to him then that he could be as loud as he wanted up here, and not a soul would hear him. The skies belonged to him, and him alone. 

So he screamed. He screamed louder than he ever had before. All his life, he had been forced into a box, told to sit still and be quiet and make himself as small as possible. So he had done that, and it had kept him alive. But up here, no one could make him feel small. Up here, he was large. He was huge - bigger than anyone who had ever forced him into that box. 

He screamed until his throat ached, until his lungs were fatigued. Onyx darted over to him in concern, but when he grinned at her, she joined him. Her loudest sounds were high-pitched and kind of adorable, and Seonghwa’s affection for her threatened to burst out of his chest. 

Something lifted from his shoulders by the time he was done, a weight he had never known he carried, because it had seemed a part of him. But this kind of freedom… he had spent his life longing for just a fraction of this, and now he had it all. Now he was more free than all of the people who had wounded him, and that made it easier for him to set aside his grievances, his grudges. Nothing mattered up here. Nothing but the stars and the little bat at his side. 

They flew for a while longer, and then they both headed down to the coven house. Seonghwa couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and he tucked his wings in close to speed up his descent, hurtling towards the forest like a meteor. Onyx kept up with him, and they both pulled out of the dive at the same time, avoiding a collision with the ground. 

Instead of landing in front of his coven, Seonghwa flew in a circle around the treeline, mindful of his speed. They gawked at him, pointing and watching. Hongjoong stood a step in front of the rest, and when the moonlight illuminated him just right, Seonghwa saw that his cheeks were wet. 

Touched, Seonghwa flew towards him, reaching his arms out and grabbing him before he could sidestep. He cried out in surprise, but Seonghwa held him close, flying low enough that he would be okay even if he fell. He was an immortalist, after all. 

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong had to raise his voice to be heard over the rush of the wind. “Please, do not drop me. I would heal, but it would still be unpleasant.” 

“Can you hold on to me, and be sure that you won’t fall?” Seonghwa asked, spinning lazily in the air around the house. “I want to show you something.” 

Hongjoong clung to him already, practically choking him out. His legs wrapped around Seonghwa’s waist, feet locked around his back. “It is unwise,” he said, tightening his grip even further. “But I have never been the reasonable one. That is Yunho. Fly me to the moon if you wish, darling.” 

Seonghwa’s grin widened somehow. Something had changed within him as soon as he took to the sky; he was overcome with a specific type of exuberance that he had never felt before. Every laugh seemed to spill right out of him, brimming over his lips and dissipating into the night. He decided that he liked the person he became when he was free. 

Holding Hongjoong as tightly as his arms would allow, he zipped up past the trees again, until the full expanse of the stars came into view. He didn’t bring Hongjoong up higher than he had to, the two of them entwined in the middle of the sky as Seonghwa flapped to keep them in place. 

“Look,” he said, nudging his chin towards the stars. “I needed you to see it.” 

Hongjoong craned his neck upwards, and the moment he saw the stars, he gasped. He was rarely shocked by anything, old as he was, but now he scanned the night sky with childlike wonder. “Wow,” he breathed, mouth ajar. “I… I had no idea there were this many stars. Even in the past, before the cities were constructed, I never saw anything like this.” 

“They’re beautiful,” Seonghwa murmured, looking at the trails they made, the various shapes and images his mind could isolate. How could the sky hold this many stars? 

“They are,” Hongjoong agreed, and Seonghwa looked back at him to find him already watching, their eyes meeting. Up here, his dark irises reflected all of the lights around them, a night sky of their own. Seonghwa was stricken by the sight of him, nearly forgetting to flap his wings. 

He leaned forward, pressing their lips together. A gentle wind caressed their skin, wrapping around them, cocooning them as they floated above the earth. “Bet you never kissed anyone in the sky, huh?” Seonghwa grinned, raising a brow. 

“Do not look at me like that,” Hongjoong said, almost… shy. “If my palms sweat any more, I will fall.” 

“Are you afraid?” Seonghwa asked, sobering. “We can go back down-” 

“No.” Hongjoong interrupted quickly, almost frantically. “I am not afraid. I just… I have never seen you like this before. You seem so…”

“Free?” Seonghwa finished, smiling again. “This was always dormant inside of me, I just didn’t know it. But I think human life was harder for me than it is for most, because a part of me always knew I was meant to fly.” 

Still, Hongjoong’s expression was off. “Yes, but… I look at you, and I feel choked up, like I am about to cry. Because this is all I ever wanted for you. I hoped that one day, eventually, you would heal enough to be like this. I never expected it to happen so fast.” Sure enough, a tear slipped free when he blinked, running over his cheek as condensation trails down a frosted glass. “I feel so lucky to have you. I did not know my own heart was capable of a love like what I feel for you right now. I suppose I am just a bit overwhelmed by it all.” 

His stare was penetrating, so raw with emotion that he didn’t even attempt to conceal. Seonghwa felt a small lump form in his own throat, and his smile softened. He leaned forward again, and this time the kiss was longer, soft and sweet and ripe with the love they had nurtured all this time. 

It had been well worth the wait. 

Hongjoong’s lips were soft, and Seonghwa held him closer as he teased with his tongue, having a little fun. It was so rare that Hongjoong was the one flustered like this; he enjoyed taking advantage of that fact. Hongjoong kissed him back with fervor, and only when his hands began to wander did Seonghwa pull away, licking over his bottom lip. 

The two of them returned to earth, and Seonghwa was gentler with his dive this time, for he didn’t want to scare Hongjoong into never flying with him again. When they landed, Hongjoong fell into a crouch, not trusting his feet to carry him right away. Incredibly endeared, Seonghwa leaned down to kiss his cheek before turning to the others. 

“Me next!” Wooyoung exclaimed, barreling into Seonghwa, clutching onto him like a spider monkey. “I want to fly, too. Please, Seonghwa. Pleeeeeeeeease-” 

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “But you have to hold on. If you fall, you can’t blame me.” 

“I won’t fall,” Wooyoung insisted, gripping Seonghwa’s shirt, practically trembling with anticipation. “Please. Can Onyx come, too?” 

Onyx had wisely chosen to abstain from Seonghwa’s flight with Hongjoong, but now she perked up, flying in excited circles around them and using her wings to ruffle Wooyoung’s hair. “Why do you like him so much?” Seonghwa asked her, exasperated. “He’s not a good influence on you.” 

Wooyoung is a very sweet boy, Onyx replied, swatting Seonghwa with a well-timed flap of her wing. He did something special with the game controller, so that I can play. He even lets me win.

Gaping, Seonghwa looked down at Wooyoung, who was still clinging to him. “She actually played video games with you?!” 

Wooyoung snickered at the look on Seonghwa’s face. “I told you she would. I put her controller on handicap mode. The console thinks she’s a person with only two fingers, so she can control the cars using her little feet. She’s actually pretty good, you know. She’d definitely beat you.” 

“I only played once, and I’ll have you know that the controller was-” 

“Dead, yeah I know. Except it wasn’t, because it had new batteries, but you can keep telling yourself that.” 

Seonghwa let go of Wooyoung, stepping away. “Kiss your dreams of flying goodbye.” 

He dissolved into immediate apologies, falling to his knees at Seonghwa’s feet, hands clasped together. Entirely ridiculous, but also very endearing. Wooyoung always knew how to walk that line. 

Snatching him up, Seonghwa kicked off the ground and launched into the air, the wind swallowing Wooyoung’s screams. He laughed, louder than he ever had before, and it felt so good that he didn’t stop. He laughed and laughed, and eventually Wooyoung joined him, fingernails digging into his skin as he hung on for dear life. Seonghwa flipped and spun around for his benefit, spurred on by his joy, his scarred mouth open in a wide smile. 

After Wooyoung, he flew around with San, and then Mingi, and eventually everyone wanted a turn. Even Yunho, though he refused to let Seonghwa fly any higher than the second story of the house, babbling about all of the injuries a person could sustain from a fall at that height. 

No one fell, and by the time Seonghwa landed, dawn was near. He was wiped, but he was also bursting with life, sweat shining at his temples. He would do this every night, if his coven wanted him to. And the beautiful thing was that he could. 

He could do anything he wanted.