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San sighs and readjusts his grip on the box of bottles he’s lugging down the aisle, careful not to bump into any of the dark wooden shelves laden with magical wares. It’s been a long day in the emporium, and he’s exhausted, but at least it’s over now.
The box itself is a battered cardboard one stamped with a crescent moon logo and the words ‘Twilight Emporium – for all your mystical needs’ in elegant script. The words ‘nearing expiry date’ are scrawled across one side in black marker.
Seonghwa had woken up at 3am that morning with a shout of panic, having had a vision of an inspector from the Board of Regulation of Magical Goods and Services showing up for another surprise inspection of the store. Hongjoong had soothed him back to sleep, reminding him that all the Emporium’s products and services were always up to industry standard and they had nothing worry about, and anyway, it was 3am on a Sunday so there was nothing they could do right now. The seer had acquiesced, but as soon as the sun rose a household meeting had been called, and the team had been sent into a flurry of re-organising and double-checking.
“Are we sure this is a genuine prediction and not just Seonghwa-hyung having a paranoia nightmare?” Jongho had grumbled as they traipsed downstairs with a to-do list as long as his arm.
“Yeah, sounds a lot like something hyung would worry about enough that he’d start to dream it,” Wooyoung had agreed. “Oh no! We left a speck of dust on the front counter, the Board is going to shut down the Emporium!”
The eldest had turned around and glared at them.
“You know how picky the Board is – they almost gave us an official warning last time, just because they found some sage past its sell-by date in one of the back rooms! And yes, it was a vision not a dream. Who’s the clairvoyant here, me or you?”
“I took a divination elective once!” said Wooyoung cheekily, as if that could compare to Seonghwa’s inherited abilities combined with years of study and graduating at the top of his cohort.
They all have their specialities, which is why they fit together so well as a team. It’s also why they’re able to manage a store with such a wide range of services, just like Hongjoong had always envisioned for them, back when they were poor university students taking odd jobs at cheap coffee shops and stuffy old archives to pay for their spell-books. It just so happens that Seonghwa’s brand of magic is more nebulous and less tangible than the others’, and often lands him as the butt of their jokes.
Seonghwa had slapped the back of Wooyoung’s head lightly and shoved a stack of cardboard boxes into his hands.
“Shut up and get to work,” he’d scolded.
Leaving him to check the stock of crystal balls for cracks, and count and re-count the tarot cards to make sure the packs were all complete, San and Wooyoung had headed for their own domain – the potions section. After losing at rock-paper-scissors, Wooyoung had left to clean the workshop he and San used to create their products, while San got to work sorting through their stock of ready-made potions and elixirs, removing any which were nearing their expiry date.
It’s taken the whole day. As darkness falls, Hongjoong takes pity on them and orders pizzas for dinner, which are devoured in minutes before everyone returns to their tasks. Not long after that, people start finishing up in their individual sections.
Yunho and Mingi’s collection of spell books have been properly rearranged and the second-hand section had been thoroughly checked for jinxes and other unpleasant surprises that may have been left by previous owners. The enchanted pot plants and fresh potion ingredients Jongho is in charge of have been carefully checked over for any signs of disease or decay.
“Hyung! I’m done!” San calls, waving to Hongjoong as he passes and nodding down at the full box in his arms.
Hongjoong looks up from where he and Yeosang are still checking over the racks of charmed jewellery they create together (Hongjoong uses magic to craft the intricate pieces painstakingly from wood and silver and glass, and Yeosang imbues them with glamour charms or protective wards based on the customer’s requests), and smiles at him.
“Good job, San. Take those upstairs when you go. We’ll dispose of them safely next week, but for now we just need them out of the shop.”
San nods and bids them goodnight, heading for the back door and up the dark wooden staircase that connects the shop below to their home above.
He loves the building they live in – two stories devoted to the emporium, and two above converted into living quarters the eight of them share. Seonghwa and Hongjoong share the biggest, nicest bedroom, seeing as it’s their names on the title deed. San and Wooyoung snagged the second largest, and everyone else has a smaller room to themselves. It’s old and creaky and full of character, infinitely nicer than the crowded campus dorms they’d all been living in when they met.
San makes his way to the kitchen, a homely space filled with dried herbs and burnished copper pots hanging from the mantel above an old-fashioned stove. Wooyoung is already there, his head in one of the cabinets.
“We’re out of mint tea,” he whines in lieu of a greeting when he hears San come in.
He gets out Yeosang’s tin of chocolate powder instead, and dumps a few spoonfuls half-heartedly into his mug, stirring it around to dissolve.
“I have something better,” says San, and deposits the box on the kitchen table.
The heavy thunk and the rattling of the little glass bottles has Wooyoung turning around, and a delighted smile splits across his face when he sees the box.
“Hongjoong-hyung didn’t make you throw them out yet?”
“Nope.”
San pulls out one of the little bottles. Like all their stock, it’s made of dark green glass and fits snugly into the palm of his hand. Each bottle has a neatly written label printed with their crescent logo and the potion’s ingredients. Dizziness draught reads the one in his hand right now.
“Feel like having some fun with these?” he asks.
Wooyoung nods eagerly, abandoning his hot chocolate on the counter and joining San at the table. They work quickly, separating out the potentially harmful potions from the ones which would simply cause annoying or amusing side effects. They then dump the second group into a haphazard mix of glasses, mugs and teacups taken from the cupboard, shuffling them round until they’ve both lost track of which is which. San throws in a few standard alcoholic shots and a couple of plain water as well, just to shake things up, and they spread them out over the table.
Wooyoung smiles widely as he settles down in one of the wooden chairs opposite San.
He’d been exhausted and thinking of turning in early not long ago, but he’s feeling wide awake now – he’ll never pass up a game with his boyfriend. After a long, boring day of work, this is exactly what he needs to unwind.
They play games like this when they get the chance, sometimes with the others despite Hongjoong’s disapproval, but mostly just the two of them, since they’re the potion experts of the group. The rules are simple – they each take turns selecting a random drink and have sixty seconds to identify it before deciding whether to swallow or discard it. It’s fairly easy to tell the alcohol from the potions, but telling the potions apart can be difficult, even more so while drunk, and not all the side-effects are pleasant, which adds a thrill of risk to the game.
San gestures for Wooyoung to go first, and he snatches up the nearest cup without hesitation.
After a while, they’re both thoroughly tipsy. They’ve successfully identified and avoided two dizziness draughts, a truth potion, and a sleeping potion, among other things. San had accidentally taken a shot of laughing potion, and had laughed so hard he’d slipped out of his chair and rolled on the floor in hysterics. Wooyoung had laughed himself silly at the sight too, until eventually taking pity on his boyfriend and locating the teacup with the calming draught, to counteract the effects. San’s back in his chair now, only letting out the occasional unprompted giggle as Wooyoung reaches for the next potion.
Wooyoung picks up a striped mug and swirls it experimentally.
“Warm,” he notes.
Not many potions keep themselves a comfortable heat instead of cooling down. That narrows it down significantly. He cups it in both hands and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Immediately, the comforting smell of the peppermint tea he’d been craving earlier envelops him and he sighs contentedly, closing his eyes. There’s no mistaking what this potion is now. He swirls the mug again gently, and the scent changes to the herbs and smoke of his and San’s workshop downstairs, and then to the dusty, homely mahogany smell of the Emporium shelves, and to the soft, heady smell of the cologne San uses.
“I’m guessing that’s the love potion, from how blissed out you look,” San chuckles. “Pass it here, I want a go.”
“In a minute,” says Wooyoung, still savouring the scents.
Then he’s hit with a sweet smell he recognises instantly as a mix of Yeosang’s shampoo and the lavender he uses for his charms, and his eyes snap open.
That’s not meant to happen.
Alright, he admits it, he has a crush on Yeosang. Really, who wouldn’t? San does too, they’ve talked about it before while they’re drunk. They have eyes, they know he’s visually stunning. They live with him, they know he’s fun and witty, sweet when he’s not being savage. They both like spending time with him, and they’d both make out with him given the chance.
So the attraction itself isn’t what’s shocking. No, the fact that it runs deep enough to surface in a love potion’s aroma is what’s concerning. Because love potions, well, it’s in the name, isn’t it? They smell of what you love. Not who you have a passing crush on.
Maybe it’s platonic love? Family and friends can show up in the mix sometimes, it’s not unheard of. But Wooyoung shakes his head internally even as he has the thought. Who is he trying to fool? He knows that what he feels for Yeosang isn’t platonic. He just didn’t realise it was this strong, and the thought makes him a bit unsettled.
He pushes the mug over to San, a little too quickly. The other accepts it eagerly, luckily not noticing Wooyoung’s change in mood. Wooyoung watches his boyfriend bring the mug to his nose and breathe in, expression melting into the same blissful one he imagines he himself was wearing a few moments ago.
“Smells like cuddling with you,” says San, and Wooyoung giggles happily in spite of himself.
He knows San loves him, but it’s always nice to hear it said aloud, makes warmth bloom in his chest. San slides the mug back across the table after another minute.
“Are you going to drink it now?”
“Nah, I’ll leave it til last,” says Wooyoung, turning in his seat to place it on the kitchen counter, away from the other discarded potions.
It wouldn’t have an effect on either of them if they drank it – the potion causes the drinker to fall in love with the first person they lay eyes on, and the couple are alone in the room and already very much in love – but love potion always tastes delicious. He’ll savour it after the game is done, in place of the mint tea he’d been meaning to make earlier.
San chooses the next cup – “Just water,” he says disappointedly and downs it in one – and then it’s Wooyoung’s turn again.
His fingers have just closed around a chipped shot glass filled with clear liquid when the kitchen door opens and the two pause and look up.
Speak of the devil (or in this case should it be ‘think of the devil’? …smell the devil?) it’s Yeosang. He waves tiredly at them as he shuts the door behind him. In his slightly drunken state, Wooyoung has to force himself not to stare and go back to the game instead.
People often assume that, because Yeosang’s speciality is illusions and glamour charms, his own appearance is magically enhanced somehow. His friends know that this isn’t the case, and he really just is that unfairly good-looking. Even now, in a faded oversized hoodie, expression flat and tired, he somehow manages to look ethereal as he shuffles over to the kitchen counter.
“Whose hot chocolate?” he asks, picking up a mug from the bench and peering into it. “I’m having it anyway, but just wondering.”
Wooyoung snorts.
“It was mine, but yeah, go for it.”
“Cheers,” says Yeosang.
Wooyoung doesn’t bother replying, still focussed on the potion in front of him. It looks like plain water, but if he tilts it he can see a faint glossy blue sheen on the surface. Magical then, but something simple, light. An aura-cleansing draught perhaps?
He’s about to say so aloud when San lets out a small yelp of surprise. Wooyoung looks up at the noise, and follows his boyfriend’s gaze to see Yeosang drinking deeply from the mug of love potion he’d put aside.
Shit.
He needs to do something, should stop him somehow – but the alcohol is clouding his brain, slowing his reactions, and Yeosang’s already swallowed half the potion and lowered the mug before either of them do anything.
The gravity of the situation finally hits Wooyoung properly, and kicks his brain into professional mode, analysing the situation.
The potion is a fast-acting one, which means they only have seconds before it begins to take effect. They’ve dealt with customers’ love potion mishaps before, Wooyoung knows all about the weird ways it makes people act – excessive attempts at cuddling, loud declarations of love, sobbing from the overwhelming emotions, staring with dopey eyes and not hearing or seeing the world around them but for the object of their affection. This is precisely why commercial love potions are only available to couples with prescriptions from marriage counsellors and the like.
What symptoms is Yeosang going to exhibit? It usually seems to start with staring in wonder at the person they’ve fallen for, then launching themselves into their arms and trying to kiss them, or at least that’s the textbook example. Wooyoung wonders if it’ll be difficult to keep him under control until they can get a remedy brewed. He’s had to hold people down and force antidotes down their throats before, and it’s not a pleasant experience.
Yeosang’s eyes widen slightly, and he looks back down at the mug. Wooyoung missed seeing which one of them Yeosang looked at first, but braces himself in case it was him, and feels San tensing too, preparing for a possible lap-full of drugged friend.
“This is really good!” says Yeosang. “Is it a different brand or something?”
Wooyoung blinks. What?
Yeosang finishes the rest of the drink without waiting for an answer, and rinses out the mug calmly, leaving it to drain on the sideboard. When he turns, both San and Wooyoung are gawking at him, thoroughly confused.
“What are you two staring at?” he asks, flushing slightly. “Did I get some on my face?”
He rubs vaguely at the corners of his mouth with one of his sweater paws, and Wooyoung reels in his thoughts about Yeosang’s lips and his overall cuteness, and forces himself to focus on the situation at hand instead.
“I… uh, you…” he starts, but trails off because his thoughts are a mess right now and he just ends up gesturing vaguely, because how is Yeosang still acting normal after drinking an entire love potion?!
Is it just taking longer than usual to kick in? Is Yeosang managing to control himself somehow? Are they still going to need to help him and find an antidote, or is everything somehow fine?
“How…?” asks San, echoing Wooyoung’s thoughts and staring at Yeosang with wide eyes. It’s closer to a proper question than Wooyoung managed, but still isn’t going to make any sense without context.
Yeosang gives one of his deep chuckles, covering his mouth with his sleeve, and shakes his head.
“You two really are drunk, huh?” he says. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Wooyoung sinks back in his seat, because that settles it, doesn’t it? Yeosang definitely isn’t feeling the effects right now if he’s voluntarily walking away from them.
“Don’t stay up too late, and make sure you drink plenty of water, won’t you?” calls Yeosang on the way out. “We’ve still got work tomorrow, and Hongjoong-hyung won’t be happy if you’re hungover!”
The door clicks closed behind him, plunging the kitchen into profound silence. Wooyoung looks at San. San looks at Wooyoung. The clock on the wall ticks. Ten seconds passes. Twenty.
“Ok, what the fuck?!” explodes Wooyoung.
He lurches to his feet and snatches up the empty mug from the sink.
“This was the one with the love potion, right? And he drank the whole thing? I didn’t hallucinate that?”
San shakes his head, expression blank and lost.
“That definitely just happened.”
“So what gives? Was it expired after all? Did we get the date wrong?”
“Must have,” San agrees. “They don’t normally lose their potency that quickly, but it clearly wasn’t working at full strength, if it worked at all.”
“Still smelled nice though, so it can’t be totally off,” Wooyoung points out.
San hums.
“Well,” he says, “What do we do now?”
“I mean, he seems fine at the moment…” says Wooyoung.
“Should we make an antidote for him just in case?” San suggests.
They’re both silent for a moment. They know they should, but…
“We’d have to explain to the others that we fucked up,” says Wooyoung. “Hongjoong-hyung’s going to give us another lecture about keeping potions out of the kitchen if he finds out.”
“Plus the antidote needs fairy tears,” says San, pursing his lips in displeasure. “We have some in stock but that shit’s expensive. I don’t wanna use it unless we have to.”
Wooyoung sighs.
“I guess we just keep an eye out in case he starts showing any mild symptoms tomorrow.”
That night in bed, after they’ve sobered up and cleared away the last potions from their game, Wooyoung lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling above them, feeling frustratingly awake despite his exhaustion. San is curled against him with his head resting on Wooyoung’s chest, and Wooyoung has one arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s shoulders and the other hand occupied playing idly with his hair.
San must sense his tenseness, because eventually he shifts in Wooyoung’s arms to look up at him.
“Are you worrying about what happened?” he asks quietly.
Wooyoung hesitates, because he’s not particularly happy with the thoughts that have been running around inside his head for the past hour, and he’s not sure he wants to acknowledge them by speaking them aloud. But then he chides himself – this is San he’s talking to. There are no secrets between them, and San would never judge him. Besides, he deserves to know.
“I was just thinking about what might have happened if the potion had worked,” he admits. “I… I feel bad saying this, but I almost wanted it to. Some part of me was disappointed when nothing happened. Does that make me an awful person?”
San is quiet for a moment before replying, and Wooyoung takes the time to play with the streak of white in San’s hair, the result of a misfired curse back in first year, which he’s never bothered to fix because everyone agrees it suits him so well.
“I know what you mean,” says San. “So I don’t think it makes you an awful person, but if you are, then I am too.”
Wooyoung twists his lips thoughtfully. Does San understand? Wooyoung isn’t even sure he understands his own desires right now. Because sure, on the surface, it sounds like a normal guilty fantasy, to have a cute person to suddenly want to kiss you. But that isn’t the aspect Wooyoung’s found himself fixated on. Instead, he can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have Yeosang look at them with adoration in his eyes, to insist on staying by their side, to tell them he loves them.
“It’s not just about getting a kiss though,” he says slowly, “Not anymore. I mean, you know I’m happy being with you, obviously I am, I love you so much, but sometimes I just find myself wishing…” Wooyoung breaks off with a groan and looks away.
“No, it’s ok. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it too,” says San. “The three of us dating each other together, I mean. I think it would be nice.”
Wooyoung blinks in surprise at the admission. Could San really feel the same way?
“Did you… I mean, when you smell a love potion, is he…?” he trails off, not sure if San shares the depth of his feelings for Yeosang, or if the question will make things awkward.
“Yeah, he’s in there,” San confirms, and Wooyoung breathes a sigh of relief. “All that lavender and sage he uses for his charms.”
“Same,” Wooyoung says quickly. “And his shampoo.”
“Ah, that’s what the fruity smell was,” says San. “I couldn’t put my finger on it.”
Wooyoung laughs, a little incredulous. “Are you telling me we’ve both been in love with him without saying anything about it?”
San chuckles and tucks his head back down against Wooyoung’s chest. “I suppose so.”
“How come you didn’t mention it at the time?” asks Wooyoung. “I was feeling guilty about it, I wouldn’t have worried if I’d known you felt that way too!”
“Well I didn’t know you felt that way either!” San points out defensively. “I didn’t want to make things awkward!”
“Damn, for people who graduated Advanced Potion-making with honours, we can be pretty dense sometimes, huh.”
San snorts. “Oh well, doesn’t make much of a difference either way, I guess. We’re just going to have to be satisfied with each other, aren’t we?”
He smooshes his face into Wooyoung’s chest affectionately. Wooyoung squeezes him tighter in arms in response, but his eyes are narrowed in thought.
“Not necessarily,” he says. “In fact, if we’re both on board, maybe we should go for it! See if he wants to join us!”
“Seems unlikely,” mumbles San into his chest. “I mean, anyone would want you, Woo, but I dunno if he’ll be interested in a poly relationship.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Wooyoung scolds gently, swatting San on the shoulder. “You’re gorgeous too. Besides, it can’t hurt to try. We can take it slow, just invite him to hang out with us more often and drop a few hints. We’ll back off if he’s not interested, obviously, but we shouldn’t let this go without even trying.”
“Ok,” San relents, “We can try. But we should wait until we know the potion hasn’t worked on him. I’d hate for him to agree because the effects are lingering, and then regret it as soon as they wear off. That wouldn’t be fair to any of us.”
Wooyoung nods.
“Yeah, we’ll just have to leave it for now, and keep an eye on him to make sure he isn’t acting strangely. Then we can start seducing him for real.”’
San giggles, and shuffles up to peck Wooyoung’s lips.
“If you say so,” he says. “Now go to sleep.”
Wooyoung pouts, but concedes. There’s nothing more they can do right now. He tugs San back down to settle comfortably in his arms, and before long, both of them are asleep.
When the sun rises the next morning, the next week begins, and life goes on as normal. They open the emporium on Monday morning and work in shifts until midnight, to make sure the nocturnal creatures have a chance to shop as well.
A sour-faced inspector from the Board of Regulation of Magical Goods and Services appears unannounced on the Wednesday, and scours the store from top to bottom, scribbling notes on his clipboard and muttering under his breath the whole time. However, no amount of suspicious glaring will unearth any slip-ups after all their work, and eventually he has to admit defeat and announce that they pass the inspection.
Everyone breathes a little easier once he leaves, and Seonghwa takes great pleasure in reminding them that he’d been right all along, and wasn’t it lucky he’d had that vision, and weren’t they all glad they’d put in that all extra work on Sunday now?
Hongjoong laughs as the others grumble and pout their way through their begrudging apologies.
San is distracted though, because when Wooyoung wraps his arms around Seonghwa and makes a show of begging his forgiveness until the eldest stops looking smug and starts trying to shove him off, he catches a glimpse of Yeosang standing on the other side of the room.
He’s watching them intently, and his gaze follows Wooyoung when Seonghwa finally manages to push the younger off and they separate. Yeosang crosses his arms over his chest, almost like he’s hugging himself, then he seems to catch himself and drops them back to his sides, shaking his head slightly. It’s only a moment, and it passes quickly, but San is sure he saw longing on Yeosang’s face.
He pulls Wooyoung aside as soon as he can, and relates what he’s just seen.
“Hmm,” says Wooyoung. “So he might have seen me first, and be feeling a bit of a pull towards me?”
San nods, and Wooyoung hums thoughtfully.
“Well on the bright side,” he says, “Any lingering effects should be waring off anyway by tonight. It’s been nearly four days, and love potions usually only last three to four days unless the… oh shit.”
He breaks off, eyes wide. It’s a second before San’s knowledge of potions fills in the end of the sentence for him, and he realises why Wooyoung is suddenly panicking.
Love potions usually only last three to four days, unless the person they fall for already has feelings they want reciprocated. Something San and Wooyoung have been cheerfully doing ever since Yeosang first took the potion.
“Shit,” San agrees.
“Our feelings for Yeosang could mess with the effects,” says Wooyoung, starting to pace agitatedly. “If he is affected, us wanting to date him could make it last twice, even three times as long!”
“And we still don’t know if the potion worked or not, or why the effects didn’t show up like normal,” San groans.
“Ok, we’re gonna have to keep a closer eye on him that we thought,” says Wooyoung, and San nods.
“We’ll keep it subtle,” he says, “Just pay more attention to how he’s reacting to things when we’re around.”
However, it turns out that subtlety is apparently not the couple’s strong suit, and it only takes another day before Yeosang catches them staring as he sets out the price tags on some new amulets, and beckons them over.
“Can we talk?” he asks seriously, and since the emporium is basically dead at the moment, no customers in sight and everyone bored at their posts, San and Wooyoung can’t come up with a reason to say no.
They follow him upstairs and through to the kitchen, where everyone sits around the wooden table.
“Ok look,” says Yeosang, getting straight to the point as usual, “You’re both acting super weird. You’ve been walking on eggshells around me and giving me strange looks all week, and today it was even more obvious. If I’ve…” Yeosang’s voice catches, betraying his calm face, “If I’ve done something wrong, please just tell me.”
Wooyoung meets San’s eyes, and the two share a quick, silent decision. It’s one thing to avoid the topic, but they can’t outright lie to Yeosang about what’s been happening, especially if he thinks it’s his own fault. They’re going to have to come clean.
Wooyoung steels himself, and turns back to Yeosang, who’s picking nervously at a loose thread on one sleeve, and staring down at the tabletop.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Yeosangie,” he assures his friend. “And I’m sorry we made you feel that way. The truth is, well, it’s a funny story actually…”
He trails off and then squeaks as San steps on his foot under the table. Get to the point says the look that San gives him, and Wooyoung sighs and squares his shoulders. It’s going to be fine, he tells himself.
“So, ahaha, we might have, er, accidentally-given-you-a-love-potion-a-little-while-back,” he says in a rush.
Yeosang’s head snaps up.
“You did what?!”
Wooyoung begins to babble, as he often does when he’s stressed.
“Well, that is, we left one out in the kitchen, and you drank it while we were around. You didn’t seem affected though, so we think it’s ok. We know, it was dumb, and we should have said something at the time. I promise it won’t happen again. But yeah, that’s why we were watching you this week, just to check if you were acting any different.” He quickly holds up his hands placatingly and adds “But, I mean, it’s all fine, we’re pretty sure! You’ve shown like next to no symptoms! And you haven’t been having any, er, unusual thoughts about me or San, have you?”
Yeosang stares at him, and his eyes look like they could cut diamonds.
“Are you serious?” he asks in a deadly quiet voice. “Are you telling me that’s the reason I’ve been infatuated with you both? A love potion?”
Wooyoung’s eyes widen, and he feels his stomach drop. Holy shit, this is so very far from fine. So not only is Yeosang affected, infatuated in his own words, but…
“Both of us?” he says. He’s never heard of that happening before. Love potions cause the user to fall for the first person they see, not multiple people.
“Wait, so, hang on,” says San. “You’re saying you were affected?”
“Yes, I was affected!” says Yeosang, suddenly on his feet, the chair screeching unpleasantly against the floorboards as it’s shoved back. “I can’t believe you! Why didn’t you tell me as soon as it happened?!”
“You didn’t react! Like, at all!” protests Wooyoung automatically, even though he knows he’s in the wrong.
“So what, you just took it at face value? Assumed everything would be fine? I’ve been thinking there was something wrong with me – gods, I’ve been berating myself for falling for you both at once, when you’re already together! I felt so guilty, and I couldn’t understand where these feelings were coming from, I thought I was going mad!”
Ouch.
Wooyoung won’t lie, it stings to hear Yeosang denying that he’d ever like San and Wooyoung romantically of his own accord, saying that the very idea is nonsensical and unnatural to him. He also feels so very, very guilty for assuming everything was okay while his friend was going through such mental anguish because of him.
San’s hand finds his under the table and clutches it painfully tight.
“Gods, Yeosang,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry. We’re so sorry.”
“Oh, you’re sorry? Well that makes it all ok then!” says Yeosang, sarcasm dripping from his words. He laughs humourlessly. “I’ve been practically tormented by these feelings! This has been ruining my life! All because you two made a dumb mistake and couldn't be bothered letting me know.”
Wooyoung turns his face away in shame. Yeosang hisses out a frustrated breath and shakes his head.
“This has gone on way too long, Wooyoung. I want your stupid potion out of my body and out of my head. Now.”
They go downstairs to the workshop together in silence, and Wooyoung fights back tears as he and San brew the antidote. He hates fighting with Yeosang, and hates that there’s no one to blame for this but himself and San. His boyfriend puts his hand over Wooyoung’s as they wait for the potion to reach the boil, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand comfortingly, but Wooyoung can’t take much solace from the action when he can still see his own guilt mirrored in San’s face.
Yeosang’s right – they were stupid.
Wooyoung’s hands are shaking, so San’s the one who ladles the finished potion into the measuring jug, and pours the correct dose from there into one of the waiting cups. Yeosang holds his hand out for it imperiously, and San passes it over without making eye contact, shrinking back to Wooyoung’s side immediately after.
The kitchen is silent as Yeosang downs the antidote in one, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste.
Cute, thinks Wooyoung, then mentally slaps himself on the wrist because now is not the time.
The silence stretches on awkwardly. Yeosang looks between the two of them, brow creasing.
“I thought you said it would be instant?” he says after a couple of tense minutes have passed.
“It… should be?” says San, frowning too. “Has it not worked?”
Yeosang shakes his head slowly.
“Did you increase the dose to account for the amount of time since I took it?” he asks. “That’s a thing with some antidotes, right? Because it’s been quite a while now. Actually – when exactly did I drink the potion? You didn’t say.”
“It would’ve been, hmm…” Wooyoung counts the days on his fingers. “It was when Sannie and I were playing that potion game, you found it on the counter and thought it was hot chocolate. So… a week or so, I guess.”
Crash!
The empty cup hits the kitchen floor and shatters, pieces scattering everywhere. Wooyoung looks up and finds Yeosang staring at him with an expression of pure horror.
Then, before they can react, Yeosang has turned and bolted from the room.
The kitchen door slams shut behind him, and Wooyoung gapes at it, mind a commotion of panic, confusion, hurt, and then sudden, overwhelming realisation.
“This has gone on way too long” “I’ve been berating myself” “This has been ruining my life”
Yeosang has been feeling this way since long before he took the love potion.
San quickly pulls a distressed Wooyoung into his arms, holding him tightly and rocking them back and forth gently. He’s not quite sure what just happened, but he does know that they both need to calm down before trying to pursue Yeosang, or they'll only make it worse.
“We’re idiots, San,” Wooyoung is mumbling, “Idiots! We didn’t even consider the simplest explanation!”
San nods, thoughts still scrambling to catch up with what just happened.
“Love potion doesn’t change a person’s behaviour if they already feel that way," he says, mostly to himself, "Which means Yeosang must…”
He trails off, the words causing a lump in his throat as his emotions threaten to choke him.
“He loves us,” whimpers Wooyoung. “Oh my god, San, he… he loves us! He loves us, both of us, and he thought it was wrong and he’s been hurting, and then we just popped up and told him it was all because of a love potion even though it wasn’t, so he spilled his guts to us about it and was mad because it wasn’t real and he’d been worried for nothing, except it was real, and, and, oh my god…”
“Shh,” whispers San, stroking his hair. “It’s ok. We’ll fix this.” He pauses. “Are you happy-crying or sad-crying?”
“I don’t know, ok?!” Wooyoung hiccups. “I’m panicking! I didn’t think he’d already reciprocate our feelings like this, I wasn’t ready and I don’t know what to do! Of course I’m happy he loves us, I’m thrilled, but what if we just ruined everything? We just messed him about so much, we basically tricked him into confessing before he was ready. What if he never wants to talk to us again?”
“Well, the most important thing right now,” says San, “is that Yeosang doesn’t know we love him too, so he’s going to be feeling mortified right now. We need to tell him, before he gets any more upset.”
Wooyoung lets out a shaky breath and straightens.
“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, you’re right. We’ve got to explain.”
Now that they’re both calmer and know what’s going on, San leads the way out of the kitchen. Yeosang’s room is on the upper floor, so they take the stairs and make their way down the small hallway until they reach the second door on the left.
There’s no answer when they knock, or when they call out, but the door is unlocked, so they enter hesitantly.
The room is empty, but when San breathes in, the tell-tale scent of lavender is heavy in the air, and he knows not to trust anything his eyes tell him.
“Yeosang,” says Wooyoung softly. “We know you’re here. We need to talk to you. Please come out?”
For a moment nothing happens, then Yeosang fades into sight on the bed. He’s sitting up straight, hands folded neatly in his lap, watching them with a blank expression.
San goes to step forward, but Wooyoung’s hand on his arm stops him.
“Yeosangie,” he says, soft but reprimanding.
There’s a moment of heavy silence, then San hears a shaky intake of breath which definitely didn’t come from the figure on the bed. The room seems to shift and ripple slightly, as the boundary between illusion and reality is drawn back. When the effect has passed, the calm image of Yeosang on the bed has vanished again, and the real Yeosang is sitting in the far corner, knees drawn up to his chest. His face is blotchy and red from crying, and he’s shivering with the effort of holding back sobs.
San’s heart breaks a little at the sight.
They hurry over to him, and Yeosang wipes roughly at his eyes, then looks up at them and makes a pitiful attempt at a smile.
“Well, this is the most embarrassed I’ve ever been,” he says thickly. “Guess I owe you two an apology, huh?”
“Oh Yeosangie,” says Wooyoung, dropping to sit on the floor beside Yeosang and putting an arm around his shoulders. “It’s ok, you don’t need to be embarrassed.”
Yeosang scoffs. “Yeah right. After falling for two people at once, who are in an exclusive relationship no less, and then shoving my feelings in your faces and blaming you for them.”
“No,” says San firmly, taking a seat on Yeosang’s other side, “That was our fault, for putting you in that situation in the first place. We confused you. Your reaction was perfectly understandable.”
“Understandable? I jumped to a stupid conclusion, and then I took it all out on you, said all those horrible things, even though I should have realised that of course it wasn’t just love potion causing it. I mean, love potions probably don’t even last more than a few weeks, do they?”
“Love potions usually only last around three to four days,” says Wooyoung.
Yeosang buries his face in his hands in embarrassment, and Wooyoung quickly continues.
“Or – or longer, if the person they fall for reciprocates the feelings. That messes with the process, makes it stronger.”
Wooyoung licks his lips nervously and makes eye contact with San, who nods encouragingly.
“Which is why… why San and I were worried.”
Yeosang tenses, then slowly raises his head. Looks between them through wet lashes, confused.
“Wh… what do you mean?” he whispers.
“San and I like you too, Yeosangie,” says Wooyoung softly. “We have for a while now.”
San nods firmly, and reaches out to gently take one of Yeosang’s hands in his own. Yeosang blinks down at their joined hands as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“You… you do?” he asks, voice tiny. “B-both of you?”
“Both of us,” San confirms. “We’re sorry it came out like this, but we really do. In fact…”
He pauses, and catches Wooyoung’s eye over Yeosang’s head, raising a questioning eyebrow. Should we ask now?
Wooyoung shrugs and nods back. No time like the present.
“We were going to ask you to join us on a date next week, before,” San waves his hands vaguely, “all of this went down.”
“Yeah, this wasn’t how we were planning to tell you,” says Wooyoung, “But the offer still stands, if you want.”
“Although we’d understand if you don’t want to,” San adds quickly. “You know, if we’ve blown our chance after this whole mess.”
He and Wooyoung sit back and wait with bated breath.
Yeosang is silent for a long moment before eventually speaking up again.
“Damn, for people who graduated Advanced Potion-making with honours, you two can be pretty dense sometimes, huh.”
“Hey, that’s only ok when one of us says it,” says Wooyoung. “Hang on, what do you mean?”
“I just basically admitted to pining after the two of you for months on end, and you think I’m going to suddenly turn around and reject you when you offer me everything I’ve been wanting, just because of one fuck-up?”
Wooyoung opens his mouth, and Yeosang holds up a finger to hush him.
“Don’t get me wrong, it was one hell of a fuck-up. And you’re very lucky I was already head-over-heels for the two of you. But it doesn’t change my feelings about you in the slightest. So really what I’m saying is, yes,” he smiles, his first real smile of the evening, looking between the two of them, “I would love to go on a date with you.”
San feels warmth bloom in his chest at the words, and a smile spreads involuntarily across his face. Wooyoung lets out a shout of joy, and pulls Yeosang into a hug. It’s a testament to how momentous the occasion is that Yeosang doesn’t complain, but clings to Wooyoung just as tightly, burying his face in the other’s shoulder. San admires the picture the two of them make together, until Wooyoung detangles an arm and beckons to him impatiently.
“San, what are you waiting for? Get over here!”
Yeosang turns his head too, looking over at San expectantly, eyes still full of wonder at the turn of events, and how can San resist? He shuffles closer on his knees and wraps his arms around both of them. His heart immediately swells with how right this feels.
The three bask in each other’s warmth and closeness, giggling with the euphoria and relief the impromptu confessions caused, with murmurs of ‘gods, this has been the wildest fucking day’ and ‘how did we not realise we all felt this way sooner?’
They stay that way, wrapped up in each other, until Seonghwa’s voice echoes up the staircase, calling them down to eat. Then they disentangle reluctantly, and Wooyoung and San each take one of Yeosang’s hands to help him to his feet.
And as the three head towards the bedroom door, none of them let go.