Chapter Text
Jaemin’s tongue is capable of many things, many of which are undiscovered to Donghyuck. Sometimes finding out comes with a hefty price.
Donghyuck had known the Na family to possess a genetic gift for spoken spells, but he could’ve never imagined he would wake up one morning and be directly affected by it. For, you see, Na Jaemin is a reticent young man and rarely puts emotion behind his words that come far and few between as it is. Donghyuck guesses Jaemin had been raised this way, taught to suppress his thoughts and feelings for the greater good, a sacrifice he’d had to make to reduce the danger in his power if he wanted to integrate into their academy and their society at large.
As he stands, Na Jaemin is mostly harmless. Amusing, even. He’s contained, proper, pretty studious but not a complete nerd, naturally charming and thus not as standoffish as his subdued personality could’ve made him appear. Donghyuck can never truly know what the guy’s deal is or what he’s thinking, whether he likes or dislikes Donghyuck, whether he finds him funny or annoying, and he’s found a goldmine of fun trying to solve this mystery.
They’re not friends, but they’re not enemies either. Neutrality isn’t the right word for what they’re nurturing, but neither is investment. They’re something. Jaemin smiles and huffs at Donghyuck’s antics more than he ever does around other classmates and that has to mean something, but he will also switch up at the speed of lighting and start dismissing Donghyuck’s existence altogether, only to stare at him from afar like Donghyuck wouldn’t notice the weight of that gaze pressing into his profile.
A strange, amusing guy.
And Donghyuck really, really doesn’t mean to anger Jaemin that one rainy morning.
“You can’t flirt with my sister,” Jaemin deadpans. He’s leaning against the balustrade of the balcony, arms crossed below the school’s emblem etched into his jacket, and behind him Donghyuck can see the storm brewing. There’s one brewing in Jaemin’s eyes too, somewhat twice as unsettling.
“Why not?”
“Because she’s my sister.”
Donghyuck studies Jaemin’s face for a good moment. Jaemin had called him out here to have a conversation, something very out of the ordinary for them, and Donghyuck had immediately intuited the reason. Now he just needs to figure out which part of texting Jaemin’s sister doesn’t sit right with Jaemin—admittedly, he intuits that as well.
“Oh, I’m sorry, you were into her first?” he says, but his joke only reaches the audience of one: himself. Jaemin remains serious and keeps his stare unrelenting. “Oookay, why should I care that she’s your sister?”
Jaemin seems to wrestle with his own thoughts before pressing, “Do you like her?”
“She’s cute.”
“So you like her.”
“I mean—yeah? Why are you… Is there a problem with that?”
Once again, Jaemin just stares and fights whatever inner demons come his way, his expression souring by the second. Donghyuck starts getting a little uncomfortable. He shifts his weight from one foot to another.
It takes some time for Jaemin to let the cat out of the bag, but he gets there. “I know you flirt with a lot of people and drop them fast. You shouldn’t flirt with her if it’s just a whim to you.”
There it is. Donghyuck’s reputation as a serial flirt precedes him, always a step ahead of him. It’s become pointless to explain to people that most of the time he’s not even flirting and it’s not in his control how his friendly manner of speaking is interpreted. He’s not going to limit himself just to stop people from falling for him, as much as that makes him an asshole.
“I don’t flirt with a lot of people—dude,” Donghyuck laughs in disbelief, “you’re acting like I’m flirting with you at the same time.”
He understands Jaemin wanting to protect his sister, but there’s no threat to be protected from here. Na Jisoo is objectively cute and more available than her brother, and Donghyuck is somewhat interested in her, but they’re currently texting like they’re nothing but new friends. Or at least that’s what Donghyuck assumes. He isn’t even sure how Jaemin knows about it. Him playing the role of a protective brother is as surprising as the last thing he learned about Jaemin, and the one before that, and the one prior.
Donghyuck quickly realizes how unwise his choice of words had been when the fire in Jaemin’s eyes diminishes to cold disinterest, as though somebody had poured ice water over his head. Donghyuck’s need to fight back falters.
“I mean, it’s a little unfair but I can stop talking to her if that’s what you—”
“Whatever,” Jaemin says, letting his arms fall. He pushes away from the balustrade and pointedly shoulders Donghyuck as he cuts past him. “I hope your dick falls off.”
Donghyuck goes tch at his back and occupies Jaemin’s spot, then watches as the guy walks down the checkered marble floor and passes the crystal chandelier hanging midway. His expression must be blank in a more fierce, scary way than usual, because students break their necks in search for the culprit. They curiously eye Donghyuck at the end of the trail of anger Jaemin has left behind.
Donghyuck finds himself dropping his chin, shaking his head and laughing. Jaemin really is such a strange guy, getting worked up out of nowhere, for things he didn’t even care to investigate. It’s the angriest Donghyuck has seen him—that anyone has seen him in this school, Donghyuck is almost sure of that.
He was also under the impression that swearing was above Na Jaemin, who’s always so polite and friendly, which made the situation that much funnier. Who could’ve predicted Jaemin was so protective of his family? Then again, little is known about them aside from their entanglement with the academy, abundant wealth and their enchanted bloodline.
Despite how uncalled for and silly the dick comment was, it rings past Jaemin’s absence, like the bell of a church repeatedly striking the souls of those believing.
Thunder booms in the distance behind him, grand like nature itself. Water droplets begin peppering Donghyuck’s neck. A foreboding feeling sits heavy in Donghyuck’s chest, anchoring him to the spot and the amusement he’d felt a moment ago seems to flee him.
He can’t shake it off until late evening. Even when he falls asleep that night, his dreams are rigged, nightmarish.
⊹
When Donghyuck wakes up that morning and reaches down his boxers to absently scratch the itch and finds nothing there, he learns Jaemin is a walking embodiment of wisdom as old as time: careful what you wish for. He then, consequently, understands what’s so dangerous about allowing Jaemin to be animated and passionate with his words.
After lying paralyzed in a pool of shock and sweaty sheets for a few minutes, Donghyuck blindly reaches down again and discovers that not only has his dick been swallowed by a black hole, but the skin there is soft and easily gives under his fingers if he presses and—a vagina.
Donghyuck retracts his hand like he’s been zapped by electricity. All blood drains from his face and he suddenly feels like fainting back into a dream, one that would feel more like real life than the present moment.
His first instinct is to google the cause and solution. Unfortunately for him, no one has ever searched up accidental vagina acquisition, even on the forums that receive the most niche of questions. Panic whacks him square in the face and Donghyuck lies there, knocked out, for half an hour longer.
Once he grows accustomed to the idea of having been cursed—and curses are rarely irreversible—he starts brainstorming.
He cannot consult his professors about this, it’d be too embarrassing and personal. His friends are out of question, because they’d never let him live the memory down and Donghyuck would prefer to take this to the grave, if possible. Then there are medical professionals who specialize in altering body anatomy using magic, but it’d cost him a shiny coin and he’s not entirely sure he could tell his parents what the money is really for, not to mention they’re not swimming in it and lying would feel dirty.
Jaemin is the one who’s done this to him. Probably. Hopefully. He should be able to undo it. Right?
But even with the most obvious solution there comes a tiny little problem attached: to let Jaemin help him, he first has to let Jaemin know. He has to face Jaemin, the weird, amusing guy who is not his friend, not his enemy, a guy Donghyuck cannot seem to figure out and has vague and unnamed tension with, and tell him that his offhand comment possessed enough magic to steal Donghyuck’s dick.
Donghyuck rolls over on his stomach and fake sobs into the pillow. Even if he tried his best he couldn’t conceive a fate worse than this.
⊹
It’s harder to approach Jaemin than Donghyuck initially planned. For a guy who’s rather withdrawn, people love to flock around him.
Donghyuck has never paid it particular attention—he’s not blind nor oblivious, it’d been clear Jaemin was popular—but now that he’s preying on the right moment to approach Jaemin, he can see it all: students climbing over each other’s heads to hog as much of his time as possible. If it’s exhausting, Jaemin doesn’t show it.
It makes Donghyuck rethink all the times Jaemin had randomly appeared before class, loitering around like there were no alternative ways to pass the additional time. He’d wait for Donghyuck to acknowledge him and then act like Donghyuck was pestering him for doing so. Now Donghyuck thinks Jaemin might’ve been looking for a distraction from his fanbase this entire time.
Their academy loops around the square courtyard. Donghyuck is sitting on the bench under the shade of a lone tree and watching Jaemin by the vending machines: he’s waiting for his friends to finish getting their snacks while some girl tries to talk him into drinking from her can of coke. The oldest trick in the book—feed them so you can indirectly kiss them afterwards. A girl has let Donghyuck in on the inner-circle secret once.
Donghyuck’s phone pings in his hand, confusing him. It’s always a surprise when it makes a sound instead of vibrating because Lord knows he’s never intentionally turning off silent mode.
Na Jisoo: hi! :)
Donghyuck bites the inside of his cheek before picking his eyes back up. As if knowing exactly who’d just shot him a message, Jaemin spots him hunching on the bench and secures his stare for a meaningful moment before looking away.
It feels like he’s just been told not to engage. Yet he can’t ignore the girl out of nowhere or else he’d be further fanning the flames of the rumors surrounding him.
Me: heyy
Me: whats up soonie
Okay, maybe there is a grain of merit to the rumors. He likes to give people nicknames even if he’s aware it comes across as flirting sometimes, sue him.
It doesn’t take more than a minute for Jisoo to respond.
Na Jisoo: Just haven’t heard from you today so I wanted to see what you were up to!
Oh. Makes sense. Sort of. They’ve been texting daily since starting but it’s barely noon and they’re usually exchanging messages later into the day, when classes are over and there’s nothing better to do than to discuss favorite foods and childhood series.
Me: im in the courtyard
Na Jisoo: Ohh
Na Jisoo: Look up
Donghyuck listens and upon a quick scan of the windows facing the courtyard, he finds Jisoo standing behind one and waving at him with sunny enthusiasm. He smiles and waves back. The movement of his hand catches Jaemin’s attention and makes him follow the trajectory of the wave, which in turn makes Donghyuck lower his arm.
Na Jisoo: Can I join you?
Donghyuck checks the time. There’s still ten minutes left of the break. However, he’s not too sure he wants a second curse placed on him.
Ehh, but could it actually get worse?
Me: suree come
In no time he’s got Jisoo playfully sliding along the bench until she bumps into him, bare knees pressing against his.
Donghyuck tries not to look for Jaemin’s reaction to not provoke him and make it seem like he’s doing this on purpose, but soon doesn’t have to try. Jaemin leaves the courtyard with his friends without sparing him another glance.
He’s not committing any crimes hanging out with Jaemin’s sister, so why does it suddenly feel like he is?
Donghyuck looks over at Jisoo and is met with an expectant look in her eye. He raises his eyebrows in silent question, but then the pink illustrated bandaid below her knee captures his attention.
“What happened?”
“Oh this?” She straightens her leg. “Jaemin’s cat scratched me.”
Donghyuck fakes a gasp. “She doesn’t like you?”
“She does, she just… likes to charge up on people. Jaemin never disciplined her so now she does whatever she wants. The real boss in our house.”
Donghyuck nods. Jaemin does seem like a cat person.
“Does she charge up on Jaemin too?”
“Oh yeah. But she gets bored easily with him because Jaemin doesn’t even react. At some point I stopped asking if it doesn’t hurt.”
A chuckle flees Donghyuck; it’s funny to imagine a cat chewing on Jaemin’s arm while he sports his trademark poker face. His eyes then drop to his crotch where he’d stuffed his boxers with socks, paranoid someone would notice he was flat there, and nothing is funny anymore. He feels a bit like an imposter next to Jisoo right now, like he’s lying to her by simply not owning a dick.
He swallows and straightens up. “Oh right, about Jaemin—do you know if there’s a time when he’s… free?”
Jisoo’s eyebrows climb her forehead. “Why?”
“There’s something I need to ask him but he’s never alone.”
“I can ask him.”
“It’s, um, it’s private.”
“I didn't know you were friends,” Jisoo says, surprised.
“We’re not,” Donghyuck denies.
That seems to fall in line with her own beliefs because she offers a tiny smile and shifts to face Donghyuck better. “Don’t tell him this, but he got pretty upset when he saw me texting you. So I thought maybe you guys weren’t on the best of terms.”
Well, they aren’t on the best of terms now.
“He’s a protective older brother,” Donghyuck coos.
“Nothing of the sort,” Jisoo says, waving the idea away. “He’s never acted like this towards any of my guy friends.”
Huh. Strange indeed. Maybe Jaemin has been bearing a personal vendetta this whole time, but Donghyuck hasn’t really done anything to deserve it, and it makes little sense Jaemin would dislike him just because he likes to be flirty here and there.
Whatever the case, Jaemin will have to help him, because no grievance warrants a curse this wicked.
“Soo, I wanted to ask you,” Jisoo starts, “I’m leaving home in two days and I won’t be back until the next month. I’m hosting a party in the town tomorrow. Rented a house. Invited a bunch of friends. And,” her voice turns sheepish, “I’d love to have you there. If you’re free, of course.”
Donghyuck normally has an answer ready for occasions like these. Yes, a hundred times, because most parties hosted by the elite are snobbish and uninviting and he must always seize the opportunity to get more loose with it. Right now, though, he can’t picture himself having fun without thinking about his most important asset gone and missing.
“Free alcohol,” she adds like she knows the right language to speak in. “Jaemin is also invited.”
“Does he even drink?”
“He does, actually. He’s all about fitness and health lately but he’s never said no to a drink.”
Good, good. Donghyuck would likely feel more comfortable breaking the news to a tipsy, sense-of-reality-crippled Jaemin, than a sober, colder version of him.
“I’ll be there,” Donghyuck says, giving a thumbs up.
Jisoo flashes a pretty smile.
⊹
The crowd is hand-picked, saturated with rich kids but miraculously easy to blend into. Donghyuck is finishing his first questionable concoction of cider and caramel vodka when somebody employs their ability and paints the ceiling in brilliant colors and flashing lights; it’s as though the ceiling had been ripped open to reveal a galaxy of purples and blues swirling above them. The crowd awes in unison, and Donghyuck feels disoriented, not knowing whether it’s the realistic view of space overhead or the strong drink he’s got to blame.
He checks the crowd again. Jaemin is nowhere to be seen still, but Donghyuck’s eyes land on Jisoo. Him pursing his lips in an acknowledging smile seems to be the cue she’s been waiting for to approach him.
“How’s the party?” she asks, lips licked by the liquor she’d been drinking and there’s a fog of haziness hanging over her eyes already. Donghyuck doesn’t feel as drunk as she looks.
“Great,” he says. “The sky thing looks cool.”
Jisoo narrows her eyes.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun.” She nods to his empty cup. “You should drink some more.”
He would, but he has a serious conversation coming up. Or so he hopes. “I will, later. Don’t want to start puking my guts out so early into it. Say, is your brother showing up?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve come here for Jaemin only,” Jisoo pouts. She extends a hand for taking. “I’ll text him and ask if you dance with me.”
Donghyuck smiles, shamefaced, before slapping his hand on top of hers and accepting the deal. “I would’ve danced with you either way. Don’t have to bribe me.”
The faux stars above start flashing colors at that moment, like LED lights in a nightclub. The display stirs everybody who’d been too tired of dancing or unwilling, and for the first time tonight Donghyuck feels the anxiety bleeding out of his body. He gets excited for the promised dance.
Though before he can be dragged to the heart of the dancefloor, he catches the moment Jaemin enters the party. They lock eyes, time slowing down around them, all cinematic. Jaemin’s eyebrows bump together, the sight of Donghyuck unexpected, but then he sees whose hand is dragging him along. Jaemin loses interest as fast as he had shown it and aims for the kitchen.
Anxiety repossesses Donghyuck’s body, with a kick this time. It’s hard not to let it show on his face but he tries to meet Jisoo with a salvaged expression.
They dance. Donghyuck tries to let go, if only for the remaining song. He doesn’t want to ruin it for Jisoo who looks completely stress-free and euphoric, basking in the blue rainbow of colors, and he wishes her carefree attitude would rub off on him too.
She opens her eyes between dancing and clasps her arms on Donghyuck’s shoulders, caging him in place. “I’m happy you came.”
Donghyuck huffs a laugh because it sounds like a drunken confession friends like to throw around when the clock hits zero.
Then her intentions take on a different form, the gleam illuminating her stare far from friendly.
Oh.
He wants to move back but doesn’t, watching it all unfold like a car crash: Jisoo leans in for a quick kiss, which Donghyuck awkwardly returns out of convenience and slight curiosity. He enjoys most things physical, and partying without sealing the night with a kiss is a night wasted, but the spark never comes. Even if it would, he doubts he’d feel it past the killer butterflies clawing him from inside out.
She pulls away after sensing his hesitation.
“Sorry, I thought—“
“It’s okay,” Donghyuck assures with a smile, ready to carry the cross of embarrassment for her. “I enjoyed it still. Just maybe not in that way.”
Jisoo looks like she wishes a black hole would warp the fake galaxy above them and suck her inside. It’s cute, but also painfully awkward.
“Sorry, I—misread the signs completely,” she continues apologizing, but then some realization dawns on her and she gapes at him. “Wait, are you gay?”
Donghyuck bursts into genuine laughter. “No? I mean, I don’t discriminate.” Nor does he limit himself. His sexuality is not the reason he’s not into Jisoo, though.
“Ah, okay, sorry. Things just made sense for a moment.”
He tilts his head like a confused puppy.
“You were asking about Jaemin and you said it was personal, and I thought I picked something up when you said you two weren’t friends so I thought maybe…”
It’s Donghyuck’s turn to ask, “He’s gay?”
Jisoo hums in consideration, like she’s not sure how much she’s allowed to say. She resorts to Donghyuck’s definition. “He doesn’t discriminate.”
“Gotcha.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and starts inching backwards. “I do have to find him so… I’ll see you around? Later?”
She seems eager to disappear and digest the rejection on her own, so Donghyuck gives her a final word of reassurance, “You’re a good kisser though so don’t feel embarrassed—”
Jisoo covers her reddening face with a hand. “Please shut up.”
Donghyuck pretends to zip his mouth and salutes her before hopping away. Once out of sight, he pulls a pained face and shakes his head at his own ridiculousness. He could’ve handled it better—he could’ve prevented it from escalating to a kiss. Now whether or not they stay friends after this is entirely up to Jisoo.
The door to the kitchen is ajar, yellow glow emanating from the crack. Donghyuck halts before it and overhears a conversation. It’s inteligible against the music, so he pushes the door in to inspect the situation: Jaemin is busy at the counter, his back turned to Donghyuck, while another guy sits on the kitchen island and swings his legs childishly, spieling something while Jaemin listens.
He goes silent when he notices Donghyuck is there. The abrupt cut of his monologue makes Jaemin look as well.
Donghyuck feels spotlighted all of a sudden. It urges him to speak. “Hey.” Jaemin’s stare wipes his mind clean and it takes a few seconds for Donghyuck to recollect himself. By the looks of it he’s intruding a conversation, at the very least, but he’s realized he should stop waiting for the right opportunity or he’ll never get to the matter. “Can I talk to you?”
Jaemin withholds his answer to stare at Donghyuck longer, like he’s the judge and Donghyuck is awaiting a sentence. He breaks the suspense eventually, glancing at the other guy who then slides down the island and leaves, but not before smiting Donghyuck with an annoyed side-eye.
Donghyuck tries not to dwell on it. He carefully walks over to the island and puts his elbows atop it, then watches for a wordless minute as Jaemin rinses a lime and chops it into thin slices that he puts in his drink. It looks immeasurably better than the monstrosity he’d been served by the underclassmen.
“I should’ve come here for a drink,” Donghyuck says, breaking the ice.
Jaemin simply tells him to, “Talk.”
Donghyuck straightens up, only to deflate on the island again. Fuck, this is hard. His tongue is already tying around itself.
“Ahh, where do I begin?”
“From the beginning.”
He doesn’t have a plan. Nor is he trying to be tactful, clearly. “Your sister kissed me.”
Jaemin doesn’t look up from the counter, but he does freeze up. “Right,” he says.
“I kissed her back.”
That one Jaemin ignores. He sips his drink and turns around to languidly blink at Donghyuck like a feline, making him feel slightly insignificant and horribly foolish.
“I’m only telling you because I realized I’m not into her that way. So you can stop glaring daggers at me. I won’t be going after her.”
Jaemin continues sampling his cocktail in total silence.
“That’s what you didn’t want, right? For me to pursue her?” Donghyuck asks, voice growing insecure. “So we’re good. No bad blood, nothing?”
“I wasn’t aware there was bad blood between us.”
“See, me too,” Donghyuck agrees, even if Jaemin’s tone is unconvincing, and sucks in a sharp breath. “But then you cursed me.”
Jaemin pauses. Donghyuck doesn’t miss the way his body takes a screenshot at the accusation.
“I cursed you?”
“You did. During our talk on the balcony that time.”
“I placed a curse on you?” Jaemin looks to clarify, suddenly invested and awake.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Donghyuck had entertained the idea of it being foul play on Jaemin’s part, but the surprise Jaemin is showing would be hard to fake.
“I’m pretty sure,” Donghyuck says. “There’s no other explanation for what has happened.”
Jaemin places his drink on the counter and crosses the distance to the island, mirroring Donghyuck’s position. Though instead of lowering on his elbows, he plants his palms on the island top and successfully hovers over Donghyuck. His question comes out whispery, meant to be a secret. “What happened?”
The proximity and the seriousness shrouding Jaemin scare Donghyuck’s confession away. He stands up to level Jaemin’s eyes, but the action does little to breathe confidence into him.
“Do you remember what you said to me?”
It’d be easier if Jaemin retraced the spell and connected the dots himself. Donghyuck then wouldn’t have to stutter through his voice trying to explain his unconventional condition.
Jaemin dons his thinking face, but the noise outside the kitchen door distracts the dig into his memories.
“Wait, not here,” he decides. “Someone might hear.”
Donghyuck has his own reasons to keep the matter contained, yet Jaemin wanting to keep it confidential is interesting to observe.
“Alright, but where?”
“Outside. There’s a short forest path to an open lake just outside the house. I saw it on the listing when renting the place.”
A forest path crushed by the black of the night. Sounds dreadful and a whole lot like Jaemin wants to get rid of him for good.
“You rented it for Jisoo?” Donghyuck wonders absently, eyeing the drink Jaemin had abandoned. “Cute.”
It’s early into the spring and the Earth hasn’t fully thawed yet. Jaemin fetches the trucker jacket slung over a chair and slides into it.
“Jaemin.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you drinking that?”
Jaemin throws a glance at his sad half-finished drink on the counter.
“You can have it.”
Perfect. Donghyuck desperately needs to get looser for this.
Not stalling any longer, Jaemin steps out into the liveliness of lights and bass heavy music, holding the door while Donghyuck drains the clear confidence juice and sighs in relief. It tastes luxurious compared to what he’d been drinking until now.
The elephants pause their stampede in his stomach and he feels ready; if not to speak, then at least to follow Jaemin.
The juxtaposition of cutting the crowd with Jaemin as compared to Jisoo is humorous. He’s once more following one of the Na siblings while the other notices from a distance and has a reaction of sorts; Jisoo looks a lot more curious, though. Her curiosity is tainted with suspicion, and the assumption she’d made about Donghyuck and her brother resurfaces to the forefront of Donghyuck’s mind.
Donghyuck stares at Jaemin’s nape and the line of his shoulders with a new set of eyes, his balmed vision blurring his inhibitions even further.
Before they can exit into the moonlit wilderness, Jaemin stops to give Donghyuck’s outfit a once-over, fixating on his thin T-shirt.
“You’re not going to put something on?”
“I don’t get cold easily,” he reminds Jaemin, and in case that’s not explanatory enough, he says, “Sol’s Blessing.”
Those born under the protection of the Sun Goddess Sol are forever swathed in her warm embrace. Donghyuck’s parents had wanted a sun-kissed child, a beam to lighten up their lives, and so they had dedicated their energy to manifestation. Instead of toy garlands, Donghyuck’s crib had been decorated with talismans and his wrists and ankles had been inked with the sigils of the Sun.
Donghyuck holds his palm out, the faded brown contour of the sigil peeking up at them. Jaemin blinks at it, then up at Donghyuck’s face.
“I’m hot to the touch, too,” Donghyuck says with a wry smile, suggesting for Jaemin to take his hand.
Jaemin stays cold against him.
“I believe you.”
It’s nice out; the moon is ripe and winking down at them, and the air sits smooth against his warm cheeks. They pass the smokers camping outside, and even after breaking away Donghyuck can still smell the dried mandrake they’re smoking.
“You sure you know where we’re going?” he asks, eyeing the nearing forest. There are too many mysteries dark woods hide for Donghyuck not to get skeptical, even if the alcohol in his system is buzzing at the prospect of an adventure.
“No, I lied,” Jaemin says, two strides in front of him. “I have no idea.”
Donghyuck catches up just to check his face. Jaemin pretends not to see him at first, breaking into a smile soon after. “There’s a lake, I’m telling you.”
“You need to change your tone when being sarcastic, you know?” Donghyuck complains, obsessively checking the dark in between the trees. “It’s hard to tell the difference if you’re always monotone.”
The farther away from the house, the more the forest swallows them, the more eerie the silence. Donghyuck skulks behind Jaemin and counts his steps to distract himself from the uneasiness attacking him.
“How far?” he asks.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
“I’m not—” A sudden rustle in the nearby bushes sends him flying forward and he grapples Jaemin’s arm. “Oioi!”
Against all odds, Jaemin laughs.
“When I was younger I was bitten by a wild dog while foraging mushrooms, okay? That’s the only reason I’m scared.”
“Uh-huh.”
“No, really. The forest is my only phobia. And dogs, I guess.”
They walk the rest of the path with Donghyuck leeching Jaemin’s arm; Jaemin doesn’t shake him off and Donghyuck enjoys the emotional support that Jaemin’s bicep and his steady attitude are giving him. It works.
When the forest finally separates, it welcomes the two amateur adventurers with a serene scene. Elegant willow trees outline the lake that glistens beneath the moonlight like a potion of melted pearls, inviting them for a rejuvenating swim. Donghyuck lets go of Jaemin’s arm as they approach the pebbled shore.
“Tell me about the curse,” Jaemin prompts.
It’s impossible not to get shy about it, even the second time around. They’re face to face, exposed by the whitening light, and Donghyuck looks everywhere but at Jaemin’s soul-digging gaze.
Jaemin shows patience and waits before prodding again. “What is it?”
“Do you remember what you said that time before you walked off?”
It seems he’s done some thinking while walking, because his response is immediate, “That I wanted your dick to fall off?”
“...That, yeah.”
Jaemin treats it as a riddle. He searches for the answer on Donghyuck’s humbled face, as though rejecting the most obvious conclusion is more acceptable than entertaining it. Faced with no other option, he gives in and dips his eyes to Donghyuck’s crotch. “It fell off?”
Donghyuck can’t bring himself to say it. He bites his tongue and nods.
For a full, life-long ten seconds it’s unclear what Jaemin is thinking, but then he rolls his eyes and sighs, slotting his hands on his hips and turning sideways.
“I’m serious!” Donghyuck begs. “Look.” He starts undoing his belt. Jaemin reluctantly watches Donghyuck’s hand diving into his boxers to retrieve a white ball of fabric. “Socks. Not a dick.” He then tugs his pants all the way up. “See how flat that is?”
Jaemin stands there, speechless.
“You stole my dick, Jaemin,” Donghyuck sobs, not beating around the bush anymore. “And I need you to bring it back.”
All Jaemin manages to do for the next minute is drag his hands across his face in exasperation. Before he says anything of subsistence, he hits Donghyuck with an irrelevant, prying question. “How do you go to the toilet?”
“Um,” Donghyuck stutters. “So there’s another thing too. I… I’m not flat like a Ken doll. I got… You gave me a vagina.”
Another bullet of shock pierces Jaemin. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry this is just so hard to believe.”
“You want me to show you?” Donghyuck snorts. When Jaemin doesn’t say anything in opposition, Donghyuck clarifies, “I’m joking. You’ll just have to believe me there.”
A silence engulfs them. Jaemin sighs, from the very depths of his lungs this time, and runs a hand through his shiny black hair.
“Are you gonna say something?”
And say something Jaemin does. “I can’t help you with this.”
“Say what?”
“I can’t help you. At least not right away. I don’t know how to reverse my own spells.”
“You’re joking.”
“Plus, I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“With Jisoo?”
“Yes. But I can try to figure something out while I’m away.”
The sky caves in, crushing Donghyuck with all the weight of the cosmic matter.
“That’s—that’s another month of waiting. I can’t live like this for a month!”
“Why not?” Jaemin shrugs. “Weigh all the possibilities. Not everyone gets to experience something like this.”
Donghyuck is one nonchalant remark away from combusting. “What possibilities?” he roars.
“I don’t know,” Jaemin says. “I’m sure you could figure something to experience with your new body.”
It takes time for the anger to disperse and the meaning of Jaemin’s suggestion to click. “Getting off is the last thing on my mind!”
“In that case you don’t need a dick if you’re not going to use it. You’ll be fine,” Jaemin assures, cartoonishly diplomatic with his speech like he’s almost enjoying seeing Donghyuck having a meltdown over this. “No nut March?”
Oh, so Jaemin can be funny, only under the worst of circumstances.
“I’ll kill you,” Donghyuck glowers.
“Not before I help you.”
While Donghyuck is busy choking Jaemin out within the bounds of his wilding imagination, Jaemin moves to sit by the water. His choice to stay instead of returning is muddling to say the least, and after surviving the overwhelming wave of disappointment Donghyuck joins him.
Aside from the predicament Donghyuck is in, the scenery is breathtaking.
“Here’s the thing,” Jaemin says at last, eyes on the lake. “Since I’m to blame for this, you could come with me. My mother would know what to do.”
“Come with you where?”
“My family’s estate.”
The Na residence. Not the first location Donghyuck would choose for sightseeing. “Your family wouldn’t mind?”
“Not if I explain the situation. They’d rather keep this under wraps anyway, and letting someone else solve this could get troublesome.” Jaemin pulls his gaze out of the water to look at Donghyuck. “So I’d rather you didn’t tell anybody about this.”
“There’s not a lot of people I’d want to tell anyway,” Donghyuck murmurs.
Jaemin cracks a tiny smile at the absurdity of it all. If Donghyuck wasn’t the victim, he’d be guilty laughing until he cried, probably. As Jaemin had put it, it wasn’t everyday an accident like this occurred around them.
Maybe it’s the erasure of the moonlight, or the way Jaemin keeps his stare void of awkwardness and easy to fall into, but Donghyuck can physically sense the urgency he’d felt squeezing out of him until none is left.
It’s technically their first time hanging out, albeit forced.
“Say…” Donghyuck reclines on his hands. “For a curse to activate, aren’t you supposed to really mean it?”
Jaemin hums. “I guess I really meant it,” he admits.
It could be Donghyuck’s tipsiness spurring him, or the fact they’d already had the most embarrassing conversation in the world that few things could rival it. “Why do you not like me?” he asks. “Cause I’m a flirt? That makes no sense.”
Surprisingly, Jaemin doesn’t break eye contact. It’s another strange phenomenon how hard it can sometimes be to bear Jaemin’s undivided attention.
“What’s your deal?” Donghyuck taunts.
“I don’t dislike you.”
“So you like me?”
“That’s a slippery slope,” Jaemin says vaguely.
“What? Liking me?”
“The question.”
“How so? Sounds pretty straightforward to me.”
Jaemin just huffs in response. “We should head back.”
“Oh, come on.” Donghyuck scooches over to hopefully stop Jaemin from getting up. “So I can assume you like me then? You find me funny? Awesome even? You wish you could be my friend but you don’t know how to approach me, is that right?”
Jaemin smiles at nothing in particular, but mostly at the ground between his legs.
Donghyuck is compelled to continue. “So you made me approach you in a roundabout way by cursing me?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you find that charming?”
Jaemin closes his eyes and laughs.
“That’s a yes? You find me charming,” Donghyuck drawls. “Too charming in fact you can’t handle me.”
“Totally.”
“Charming, cute, attractive,” he begins listing, and before he knows it he’s knee-deep in the charted territory of flirtation. His cadence suffers and he sounds unsure when he says, “Hot.”
Jaemin skips a couple blinks before turning his head and shutting Donghyuck up with a single look. Donghyuck finally palpates something in Jaemin’s bottomless gaze, the opportunity like a portal opening for the second time tonight; he’s confronted with it all in that moment, how Donghyuck can catch Jaemin stealing glances at him at the academy, how personally affected he had acted at Donghyuck texting Jisoo, how Jisoo had interpreted their relationship, how Jaemin doesn’t discriminate.
It's fleeting, however, unlike the look Jisoo had given him before going for that kiss. Donghyuck should let the tide withdraw, allow Jaemin to get up and lead them away from the lake that has enraptured them, but curiosity is a strong poison. Donghyuck wants to see, to feel if the spark would visit him this time.
He makes that leap of faith.
Jaemin is rigid against his lips as death itself. When Donghyuck opens his eyes, he sees Jaemin is watching him through a furrow.
“Um,” Donghyuck pulls away with a chuckle, his instinct telling him to laugh the embarrassment off. This is his karma for Jisoo. “Not hot. Just charming. Got it.”
He waits for Jaemin to initiate their exit, but Jaemin sits there like a statue, his frown permanent like it’d been sculpted on his forehead. For a moment Donghyuck fears he has angered him again, but then a hand darts for his chin and yanks him in.
Donghyuck practically crashes into Jaemin and gasps against their mouths colliding.
Jaemin apologizes for the whiplash he’s caused by slowing down, giving room for Donghyuck to adjust to the idea of them kissing. He neither gives up nor presses on when Donghyuck vacillates, and welcomes Donghyuck’s decision to proceed with a hunger that could only be described as long-standing.
Before he can register any of it, Donghyuck is straddling Jaemin’s lap.
Calling it a spark would be a huge disservice. Jaemin kisses him with practiced finesse, deep, honest and unconstrained unlike the daylight version of him Donghyuck has been familiarized with. He’s never been kissed like this, like he’s a treasure to be held, a delicacy to be tasted. Like Jaemin has fished him out of the lakebed carpeted in pearls with bare hands and pure intentions that only seem to get more and more unsavory the longer his arms possess Donghyuck.
It makes Donghyuck’s knees buckle. It prickles his skin. It sends full-body shivers after him. Above all, it births a second heartbeat below his gut, the source of it known but the sensation unrecognizable, and it only makes sense to press it against Jaemin’s thigh and sigh into his mouth as—
It’s scary how good it feels.
Donghyuck pulls away without a warning.
Jaemin is bothered under him, wired, and if Donghyuck had the courage to look down between their bodies he’d likely see Jaemin’s slacks tenting up.
“We should,” Donghyuck pants, and it’s no longer clear whether he’s aroused or just panicking. The answer is probably both. “You were right, we should head back.”
Jaemin doesn’t seem ready to let go but has no other option. He releases his hold on Donghyuck and gives him a self-deprecating smirk. “Onto the next?”
Donghyuck doesn’t answer him. Not this time. He’s too freaked out to react to Jaemin calling him a serial flirt again.
Despite the obvious disappointment simmering under Jaemin’s skin, he still lets Donghyuck hold onto his arm when they walk back. They don’t talk about it, or about anything at all, hiding in the dark of the forest together with all its undiscovered creatures.
Curse his curiosity, it loves to see him drown in the mess it creates. Even better—if Jaemin still decides to help him, how can Donghyuck travel together with the two Na siblings he’d kissed and rejected on the very same night?
Donghyuck can’t help but dread a trip he’s not even sure he’s got a working invitation for.