Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“THERE’S MY FAVORITE FOREIGN BOY!”

Yunho sighed deeply to himself. It was going to be a long shift. A very, very long shift. Then again, when you work in a morgue, every shift is long. Especially with the dead as titillating company.

“I’m not Callum!” he yelled back, setting his bookbag by the entryway desk. “And I’m nearly 100% sure that’s racist!”

An older teen poked her head around a stack of freezer rows. Her long, bright red hair pulled up into space buns, her labcoat swinging around her goth form wildly.

“I knew it was you, jackass. Hot foreign boy has already left.”

“Oh haha.” Yunho rolled his eyes as he put his labcoat on, the white material barely gracing his mid thighs, his wrists exposed. Where there should have been scrubs on his lengthy body, there were baggy jeans and a well worn flannel shirt. The only in code lab material he bore was close toed tennis shoes. Being tall and buying clothes was a feat he wasn’t cut out for. Mortuary sciences…well that had yet to be determined during his medical school tenure.

He noticed a rather plump frog laying on the embalming table he took a seat next to. “Vivian, what trouble are you trying to get me into today?”

“Ooh, nothing!” she replied a little too quickly. Given she was in the chemicals area of the morgue, any response from the non-medical student was too fast. “Just thought we could have some fun tonight, that’s all!”

“Fun?” Yunho picked up a scalpel and poked the frog to ensure it was dead. “Define fun.”

Vivian popped back out from behind the freezers with a large beaker full of a questionable, glowing, purple fluid, glee written all over her make-up caked face. “Tonight, we-”

“We?”

“Yes, hush. WE bring Frogcesco back to life!”

The dramatic flare with which Vivan posed herself had Yunho double blinking. Then folded over laughing in his seat. This wild child had grown on him over the last five months, but this was her craziest antic yet.

“You want to bring a frog back to life? For what reason,V? Did Callum reject you again, and Francis is the best you could do?”

“Look, you freakishly giant cunt. FROGCESCO was young. Still teeming with life! Shouldn’t he have a second chance? Shouldn’t he get to live into his old, retirement frog years? Produce 8 million frogglings or something like that?”

“You’re serious?…” Yunho sighed again as she approached and set the flask on the table, next to the small body and a large purple book.

“Dead serious,” she whispered, eyes conveying the mischief they always did when she had a devious idea for his workplace.

*

“Then viola! The once dead lives again!”

Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing his round-rimmed glasses up into his shaggy brown hair, as Vivian triumphantly threw her hands in the air. The metal chair his lithe frame occupied had long grown uncomfortable, much like the project he was entertaining with his “coworker.”

“The frog is still dead, Viv.”

This had been their third attempt at dousing the poor frog corpse in purple solution as Vivian muttered broken Latin under her breath. And it had ended just as poorly as their previous attempts.

“No he isn’t. Fran’s just…a little slow,” she huffed to his left, giving the limp form before her a poke with a pen. She sat up a little straighter, pulling her stiff, white labcoat tighter to her and wrung her gloved fingers. She picked up the neon purple textbook from the cradle they were using and brought it closer to her face. “Maybe I got the Latin wrong. Pronunciation really is everything.”

Had he believed this could be an even remotely successful endeavor, the Latin minor (and 24 year Catholic) would have offered up his own skills for testing. But he had little faith in spells found in bright purple pleather bound texts that squeaked when you turned a waxy page. It might as well be printed in Comic Sans.

“VIVIAN!” came the voice of an older gentleman from the office behind her, causing her to jump up, her short black dress, thigh high black boots with black fishnets now on display. Yunho smirked as her already pale make-up-clad face became more ashen. “IS THAT NECROMANCY I HEAR HAPPENING IN MY MORGUE, AGAIN?!”

Vivian’s eyes widened as Yunho stifled a laugh into his sage green, overly large shirt. She quickly straightened her dress and pulled her pentagram from her chest, holding it like a lifeline. The dull thunk of a cane hit the floor as another labcoat clad man entered the room. He was much older than the pair, his hair already gone, laugh lines and too many well lived years straining his face.

“Viv. How many times do I have to tell you? No–”

“No necromancy at my workplace.” Yeah, I’ve heard you, dad.”

“Well you’ve clearly been listening! And quit hiding behind a pentagram! It’s not like it works for your mother!”

Yunho let out a small snort, as the man grabbed the textbook from his daughter and turned his attention on him. He quickly stood. “And I would’ve thought you more mature than to succumb to such childish ideations!”

“My apologies, Dr. Martinez. She’s just very…persuasive when she wants to be.”

Dr. Martinez, all intimidating 5 '6 feet of him, looked up at his 6 foot and change student employee. He thrust the book into Yunho’s chest. “And what did I say about jeans in the lab area?”

“Ah,” Yunho could feel his ears reddening, his grip on the textbook tightening. He knew this experiment with Viv would end poorly. Most of her escapades did. But they were more fun than waiting on someone to die, macabre as that seemed. “You know, it’s hard to find scrub pants that don’t stop above my ankles. Even in specialty shops online.”

Scrutinizing eyes bore into him for a moment before his boss let out a hearty laugh. “Yes, I imagine it is. We’ll just have to keep you on nights for now, so you avoid any inspectors. They would eat us alive over that. I assume that works with your studies?”

“Uh, y-yes sir.” Vivian mockingly rolled her eyes behind them as she mimicked the young man’s words. As if on instinct, Dr. Martinez turned a glare back to his daughter.

“And what is your excuse for…whatever the hell it is you're wearing?”

“It’s called fashion dad. Just because Yunho dresses like a dad-”

“Hey!”

“Doesn't mean I can't look fuckable,” she stomped one of her 7 inch platforms in punctuation. Her eyes widened as her father’s did. “I meant date-able. Trying to find marriage prospects. Yeah.”

Dr. Martinez shook his still nearly purple head as he turned back to his office. “I know exactly what you meant, my child. Don't you have your own studies to worry about instead of pestering my employees?”

Though her father was no longer watching, her lower lip still jutted out. “Firstly, I'm done with classes for today and all caught up. Secondly, I'm 19, therefore not a child.”

“If you need to tell me your age rather than act it, you're still a child. And considering you still live under MY roof, you will worry less about prospects and more about STUDYING.”

Vivian hung up her lab coat with a huff. She gave Yunho a pointed look as she put a drape over the frog’s corpse. “Damn you. I knew this would have been more fun with Jakeera!”

“Jakeera is Hindu. I’m pretty sure she considers this sacrilege," Yunho countered, disposing of used utensils. “You only got my interest as a wavering Catholic.”

“Wavering your ass,” Viv quipped, washing her hands. “Good Catholic boys don’t take it up the-”

“VIVIAN! LEAVE.” A familiar cane whacked the tableside next to her. Vivian quickly disappeared out of the mortuary with a cackle. Yunho shook his head and peeled his gloves off.

“There’s a little paperwork to do on our intakes today, but other than that you can work on your classes,” Dr. Martinez began turning off unnecessary lights. “I will give you a call if there’s an incoming body.”

Yunho gave a silent nod.

His boyfriend was going to absolutely love the continued alternating schedules and only seeing each other in passing and on weekends. Luckily he and San had been semi-comfortable in this routine for the last two years already. But god, did he want more time with the man. He swears the last time he saw him he was still small and twinky. Not a jacked up, abs wielding god. But that's what or rather who he shared a bed with every night (or day?), even if just to sleep.

“And one last thing,” Dr. Martinez peered back around from the exit. “ Put that book up somewhere that Vivian can’t easily find it, would you?”

Yunho gave another nod and wished his boss a good night.

“Kids,” was Dr. Martinez’s last audible reply as Yunho went looking for a good hiding spot. Even doing something so asinine didn’t make Yunho feel like a “kid.” If anything he felt closer to his boss in age than young, flouncy Vivian.

He bore no makeup, no piercings or tattoos. He didn’t care for flashy clothes. Honestly, as long as it fit and wasn’t expensive, he was content. He would rather spend his money on new books or video games.

Okay. So maybe he wasn’t as half in the grave at 24 years old as he thought.

Then again, death knows no age.

—-----
Yunho may have fallen asleep during his shift, mid-study of the vascular system of the human body, which he ignored.

He may have also nearly been caught by the dayshift techs, Jakeera and Callum, which he pretended didn’t happen.

He may have needed two of the three coffees he ordered, overloaded with sugar, just to make it home safely. Which he would never tell San, the worry wart.

He definitely refused to remember the video Callum sent of a frog ribbiting and hopping around the morgue, causing Jakeera to shriek and make a body face palm itself.

And he most definitely forgot that he decided the best place to hide the book from Vivian was at his apartment, the weight of his choice heavy in his backback.

Chapter Text

A dip in the behind him, and the whisper of breath on his ear, alerted Yunho that he was no longer in bed alone. He cracked an eye open. A respectable 2:45pm for most, still the middle of sleep for him.

“Good afternoon, beautiful,” a rich voice teased as a warm, naked body pressed to his own.

“You’re home early,” Yunho replied, pulling his boyfriend closer by the arm around his waist.

“Took the rest of the day off. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” San breathed behind him, pressing his hardened length into Yunho’s backside. He was most certainly awake now.

“If you plan to use that, you better do all the work. I’m exhausted,” Yunho chuckled and yawned, turning in his boyfriend’s arms to face him.

God, he was beautiful. The way the filtered afternoon light graced the chiseled planes of jaw, his long throat, down to his exposed torso, was almost like something of a dream. But Yunho never dreamed these days, let alone anything this good.

“It would be my absolute pleasure, gorgeous,” San’s reply was huskier this time, with promised intent. Reaching behind him, San rummaged through the top drawer of his nightstand.

“Condom or…”San was cut off before he could continue.

“No. I want to feel you. All of you.” It had been so long since he’d felt San’s bare skin against his own, a condom usually used for quick clean up. He had hours to worry about cleaning himself up. He wanted to feel as full as possible, to remember the romp not just by the slight pain of being stretched, but more. So much more.

A slight moan escaped San’s lips. His hands coming up to cup Yunho’s face, pulling his sleep swollen lips into a fierce kiss, the lube he held dropped somewhere between them. Yunho used what little energy he had to slide his fingers into the barely younger man’s hair, their bodies flushed together. He could feel San’s pulse as his cock rubbed against his own erection.

Warm hands slid down Yunho’s face and settled low on his throat. San could feel the minute whimper beneath his palms as his grip tightened, Yunho clearly enjoying the taunt.

“Need you,” Yunho’s plea was barely audible over the fan above them. San left one hand as a collar, his lips chasing the other man's, while his other hand made its way slowly south, tantalizingly grazing a clavicle before two fingers tweaked a perky nipple. Yunho keened louder, allowing access to his mouth. San wasted no time in sliding his tongue inside, slowly stroking his own against the other’s. San continued his assault of Yunho’s nipple and mouth, causing the man’s back to arch off the bed at the touch. His fingers then slipped to the previously ignored bud.

“Please, San. Please.”

As much as San loved to hear his boyfriend beg, it had been so long since he had been able to truly worship his lover with more than a quick fuck. Today they had the time. And he intended to use every second.

“Let me cherish you, baby. It's been so long.” San pulled back to look into Yunho’s eyes, finding them dark, pupils blown. He gently tugged at the bud between his fingers, awaiting an answer. Yunho gave a small nod before pulling San’s lips back to his own.

It wasn't long before the pair were sharing breath. Yunho whined at the overstimulation of his chest. San replied with a slight chuckle before replacing his fingers with his mouth, his sinful tongue dancing over the pebbled flesh. Yunho's large hands buried themselves back into San’s hair, a grounding tether. But nothing could stop the beautiful sounds being pulled from him.

San was right. It had been so long. He felt his dick twitch, precum leaking onto the sheet covering him as teeth replaced tongue.

“Oh, fuck. You keep doing that and I'll come.”

“Really?” San smiled up at him, dimples gracing his flushed cheeks. “What if I do this?”

Yunho didn't have time to inquire before San spit into his right hand, disappearing beneath the sheet, and wrapped it around Yunho's dripping cock. Spit joined the collected sticky cum on his palm. His teeth resumed their assault on Yunho’s nipple with the first stroke of his member.

“Jesus Christ!” Yunho nearly bucked into San, his hair filled hands tightening almost painfully. San didn't complain as his hand slowly worked the throbbing cock, his boyfriend somehow becoming harder. The velvet flesh gave with every stroke, San slowly increasing the speed, adding a slight twist to his wrist. His lips carcassed Yunho’s sternum before kissing his way up to his hand held throat. His mouth began suckling the vast column of Yunho’s throat, feeling his labored breathing beneath him.

“Gonna cum,” Yunho moaned, his abdomen tightening in pleasure. San’s hand suddenly released him and he let out a disappointed whine.

“Not so fast, gorgeous."

Yunho groaned, his body pushed onto his back, as San pulled the sheet off of him. The edge he was teetering on slowly faded as the cool air hit his unsheathed, sweat slicked body. Kisses littered back down Yunho’s torso, his nipples this time neglected as San’s mouth nipped and licked at Yunho’s belly. Before he could protest again, San wrapped his hand around Yunho’s cock once more, this time holding it steady as he slid the member into his hot, wet mouth. Yunho cried out again, an involuntary thrust of his hips, causing his partner to choke.

“SAN!”

Hands splayed on Yunho’s thighs, his boyfriend bobbed his head, his tongue flush on the underside of Yunho’s cock, as he stroked him into his mouth. His right hand stroking what his mouth couldn't take, his left splaying on the soft flesh of Yunho’s tummy. Waiting, wanting to feel him getting close again.

Yunho used a hand to brush San’s hair back from his eyes before resting it on his head, a subtle guide as his boyfriend took him. San continued to bob and suckle, occasionally pausing to write his name in Yunho’s slit with his tongue, pausing occasionally to relish in the whimpers Yunho made. He led Yunho to take control, allowing him to thrust deeper, hitting the back of his throat. San opened for him, taking as much as he possibly could with every thrust. Before long he could feel Yunho’s belly twitch beneath his fingers, his dick dripping precum on his tongue.

San popped off Yunho, the latter letting out a breathless whine of disbelief.

“Why are you stopping?” Yunho looked down at San, distress painting his voice and face.

“You come with my cock in you or not at all,” San shrugged with a smirk. He grabbed the forgotten lube, popping the cap and generously coating two well manicured fingers.

Yunho wantonly spread his legs, pulling his knees to his chest, allowing his boyfriend access to his fluttering hole. San settled comfortably between Yunho’s spread legs, taking in the view before him. A long, lean body covered in hidden muscle lay like a present beneath him. The flush of sex making him all the more addicting. San let out an appreciative hum.

Yunho felt his sticky cock slap against his belly as cool lubed fingers circled his entrance. San carefully pushed a finger into Yunho, feeling his tight walls spread for him. Yunho cried out at the intrusion, the pleasure almost too much yet not enough as San withdrew the digit and slid it back inside. He rested his thighs on San’s broad shoulders, no longer able to hold himself up. Once the give became easy, two fingers found their space inside Yunho, vigorously working him open. Though tired to his bones, Yunho’s left hand reached between them for San, stroking him in time with the thrust of the fingers inside his body. San had just grazed Yunho’s prostate, when he moved his hips from Yunho’s grasp. Yunho raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“You're not the only one who's close, baby,” San answered, sweat coating him from his short, jet black hair downward.

“But I wanted you to fuck my mouth.” San’s groan reverberated through his chest at Yunho’s words, his eyes closing to calm himself. Yunho loved the way he tasted, earthy, salty, all mixed with pheromone fueled sweat.

“Later,” San countered, his eyes raking up and down Yunho's naked body, littered with love bites. “I’m not sure I will last long as it is.”

“Then fuck me with your fat cock already,” Yunho exhaled, wiggling his ass on the fingers inside him, as a third finger slid in. San smiled and promptly removed his fingers to slick up his dick, grabbing the lube bottle to ensure a generous coating. Once fully prepped, San lay atop his boyfriend, resting both arms on either side of his head, the mess on his hands wiped onto the bedding.

“I love you,” San leaned down, capturing Yunho’s lips once more. Yunho didn't get to reply as he felt the blunt head of San’s dick pressing into him. There was slight resistance of muscle before San slid home, Yunho’s body relaxing to let him work himself in. With little effort, San bottomed out, their hips meeting. San stilled, his own orgasm at the brink of exploding. Twin groans filled the room as Yunho adjusted to being full, feeling like San had almost reached his stomach. He ran a hand down over his abdomen, feeling the distention of his boyfriend in his belly. Tandem groans filled the air once more.

Tongues danced together as San fully removed himself only to drive home again. Yunho moaned into his mouth, arms intertwining around San’s neck, long legs wrapping around his tiny waist. San took on a steady pace, fluidly fucking into Yunho, his tip grazing the older man’s prostate with every stroke. Yunho tightened his legs as the snap of his boyfriend’s rhythm became uneven.

“Fill me, San,” Yunho whispered into his lover’s ear. His body shook, the tension in his groin tightening to the point of almost pain. San gasped. That was all it took for him to lose control. The room filled with sounds of flesh meeting flesh as San pounded into him relentlessly.

“Oh, fuck!”

San pulled his lips away to watch his boyfriend, whose flushed face was contorted with pleasure. Yunho’s eyes rolled back and he arched off the bed, his hole clenching around San.

Yunho’s orgasm painted both of their chests and stomachs, running down to where they joined. San continued to fuck him mericilessly, chasing his own release, nearly driving him to the point of overstimulation. Soon after he felt warmth coating his insides as San came, filling him to the brim with a cry. San continued to thrust, until both were overstimulated, both too spent to continue. He pressed his forehead to Yunho’s as his hips stilled, feeling both of their hearts trying to beat out of their chests.

“I love you, too,” Yunho nipped at San’s lips before resting their foreheads together again. “Let's agree to never go this long without making love ever again, okay?”

San let out a hearty laugh that Yunho could feel through his entire body. “Deal.”

He reached down and held himself at the base as he slid out of Yunho, cum gracing the previously mostly clean sheets. San headed to the bathroom and returned with a wet, soapy washcloth and a towel. He gently began cleaning cum and sweat off Yunho before sliding the towel beneath him.

“I can change the sheets later. I want to hold you,” he explained, wiping himself free of cum as well.

Yunho didn’t argue as he felt exhaustion creep back into his body. He rolled back onto his side as San slid back into bed with a new, clean sheet draped over them. The pair yawned and snuggled close, sleep catching up to them.

With San’s arms wrapped around him, Yunho let darkness take him.

Only this time Yunho did dream.

*

Visiting home in South Korea was always bittersweet. There was always time with parents and siblings, sometimes even hometown friends. There was never enough time for everyone. But time with San’s grandma was always a guaranteed bright blip to their journey. She had the best stories and even better food.

San had just stepped away to refill their plates with more bibimbap when San’s nan placed a hand on Yunho’s knee.

“He always was a wild child,” a blinding smile graced her as she spoke of her grandson. “That's why he’ll die young.”

“Excuse me?” Yunho was taken aback by not only her words but the bluntness of them.

“He will die young,” she repeated. The smile was still on her face but her eyes were haunted. Yunho couldn't make sense of the situation. San was healthy. He wasn't going to die. Why would she say something so macabre? “He should have been more careful.”

San returned, plates piled with rice, vegetables, and beef. “What lies has she been telling you while I'm gone?”

Yunho turned back to his boyfriend, his face ashened. The San that held full plates wasn't the one who left the room. This man, this San, was almost unrecognizable. The number of contusions on his face and the amount of blood coating him made it nearly impossible to make out his features.

“What is happening?”

San and his grandmother just continued to laugh. Yunho sobbed, a scream ripping from his closing throat.

*
Yunho woke with a fright, finding the tears in his dream to be real. But the San sound asleep next to him was the picture of health and tanned perfection.

At a hiccup, San’s eyes fluttered open.

“What's wrong, baby?”

“Just a bad dream,”Yunho replied, tears still free falling. San reached up and attempted to dry his cheeks.

“Was it her?” He asked, knowing of Yunho’s usual work induced nightmares.

“No. Not this time.”

“Where are your meds?” He slid out of bed, stretching as he looked around.

“In my backpack, by the front door.”

San disappeared briefly, then returned with two pills and a glass of water. “Here.”

Yunho quickly took and swallowed the Ativan, chugging most of the water with it.

“Are you sure you don't want to talk?” San sounded concerned. Yunho shook his head, placing the glass on his nightstand.

“No. Can you just hold me again? Please?” His voice was quiet but vulnerable, his eyes unable to meet San’s without seeing the nightmare version of him.

“Of course, my love. Anything you need.”

San slipped back into their warm bed, his arms finding purchase around Yunho’s quivering torso.

“Let those work and try to rest, baby. I'm here if you change your mind.”

Yunho silently nodded and held San against him as tightly as he could. Tears continued to streak down his face, before sleep finally consumed him. This time only the dark greeted him.

*
Yunho's alarm startled him awake a few hours later. He felt San stir behind him. Maybe he should call in sick and stay in bed with him all night…

No.

It was too close to shift to call in now. Yunho sighed, rubbing sleep filled eyes. He got up and climbed into a scalding hot shower, hoping to wash the nightmare from his pores. The smell of brewing coffee soon met his nose, and he killed the water, quickly hopping out to towel off. Once dressed in his usual flannel and jeans uniform, he shuffled into the kitchen.

“So,” San started, looking stunning, all sleep ruffled in just a pair of jogger shorts. “Why do you have “And That’s How You Get Ants: A Beginner’s Guide to Necromancy?” He nodded toward Yunho’s backpack by their door. Yunho let out a groan.

“I'm supposed to be hiding that from Vivian,” he ran a hand down his face. “This was the only place I could think of.”

“Huh. Is it real?” San queried, taking a sip of coffee.

“Ants?” San rolled his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Necromancy, Yunho.”

“Oh.” He stopped long enough to take in his own drink. “I mean, I guess. Vivian thinks so. I assume her coven does, too.”

“Ah. Right. The witch.”

“Wiccan.”

“She's a witch, Yu. I've talked to her. Self proclaimed and everything.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean this shit is real,” he countered.

“Then why hide the book?”

Yunho answered from the seat he’d taken at their breakfast bar, “Because Dr. Martinez wants real work done in the morgue? Not her playing around.”

“And dragging you along,” San finished.

“Yeah. And not involving me,” Yunho agreed, his cup now empty. He went to pour himself another as San went on.

“Speaking of the morgue. When's your next rotation that will have you working days?” San asked, his eyes looking more hopeful than he felt.

Yunho sighed. It was too early for this conversation, for him anyway.

“I'm trying, San. You know it's six months minimum per rotation. And something has to open in another department for me to transfer.”

San looked into his cup, defeated. “So we still have to fight for time for just us?”

Yunho’s sigh this time was louder.

“I'm trying, San.”

“Are you?”

Yunho blinked at him. And then blinked again. “What do you mean? Of course I am!”

San set his cup on the kitchen counter. “Then what have you applied for? Be honest with me.”

Where was this coming from? He told San every time applied for a department, every rejection he got.

“Just two days ago I put in applications for Cardiology, Neurology, Pediatrics, and Infectious Disease!” Yunho could feel himself getting worked up. Right before his shift, too. This was already turning out to be a great day.

Or at least it had been until now.

“So why are you the only person not hearing anything back?” San asked, trying to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. “ It’s just… It doesn't seem like you really want it.”

“Don't want a new rotation or don't want time with you?” Yunho snapped. San’s eyes darkened.

“Are you sure you want to go there?” San’s voice darkened to match his gaze.

“Clearly you do!” Yunho threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Fine. Why am I the only one making time for us?” San spat, his hands nearly hitting the coffee mug before him as he slapped the concrete counter.

“You're not! I'm trying!”

“Well try harder!” San shouted, slapping his mug to the cold tile floor. It shattered at his feet.

“...I can't do this right now.”

Yunho slipped on shoes and grabbed his backpack.

“Whatever. I need to run errands. Go hide behind your job instead of fighting for us,” San quipped, heading for their bedroom, leaving his mess behind.

“Fuck you!”

A cold laugh was the only response he got. Yunho’s eye followed a small trail of blood where San must have stepped on glass. Fear gripped him tight, as he bolted out the door. The bloodied vision of his boyfriend following close behind.

Chapter Text

Three nights at work had passed without further redhead induced shenanigans. There had only been a minor threat of repercussion due to the dubbed “Frogccident.” Fortunately, no one enlightened Jakeera as to the true nature of the frog’s becoming. Otherwise the situation would have definitely escalated.

It was a cool, September night, and Yunho was attempting to study the cardiovascular system again, when the dial tone in the morgue sounded: a body was incoming. Yunho was still taken aback when his cell phone vibrated against his hip. Dr. Martinez’s name lit up the screen, small in Yunho’s large hand.

“There’s incoming, kid,” the old man yawned on the other end. Yunho rolled his eyes to himself. He really didn’t need a phone call to babysit him after almost six months of processing the deceased.

“Yeah, the tone just went off.”

“Think you can handle it?” Yunho stifled the sigh sitting in his chest.

“Yeah, Doc. I can clean, bag, and tag for you. He will be awaiting you in the freezer Monday. Just like you’ve shown me.”

A tired hum met him in reply. “Good, good. I’m still stuck in Santa Fe, thanks to snow. No one predicted snow! All I have is shorts!”

“It’s the Sandia Mountains, Dr. M. You know how unpredictable they are. Plus, I’ve got this. Get some sleep.”

“You can always call Ethan if you need help.” Another yawn before the click of a phone.

Yunho let out the sigh he had been holding and pocketed his phone. He wouldn’t call the Resident on call if his life depended on it. Not after having Ethan’s last ‘helpful visit’ rubbed in his face for a solid month.

He got up and opened the locked intake door for the nurse and paramedic waiting at the morgue door, a draped body gracing the table they escorted.

“Male, early twenties. Found unresponsive in the park, possible trauma. A bicycle was found at the scene, but we removed the helmet in ED. No ID. The rest is in the notes.”

Yunho nodded as the body was wheeled over and parked next to the nearest morgue table.

“He’s all yours, kid. Just sign here,” the medic, Derek, handed Yunho emergency room release forms. He quickly signed the document and made a copy, handing the spare back to them. “Someone will come after the table in the morning. Have a good one!”

“You, too!” Yunho yelled after the already disappearing pair. It wasn’t like most, sans Vivian, to stick around and make chit chat. The morgue gave most people the creeps. Yunho found it surprisingly peaceful. If it weren’t for being stuck on nights, this wouldn’t be a bad long term gig.

Grabbing his tape recorder and his note pad, Yunho took a seat next to the body. Extra large gloves graced his hands as he pulled the drape down to the young man’s pelvis.

“John Doe. Male. Early twenties. Black hair, eyes-” he hated this part, opening the deceased’s eyes. If he was lucky they came to him closed.

His first encounter with a body with their eyes rigored opened still haunted him. A car crash victim who saw the oncoming semi before the collision. Who knew her fate and still could do nothing but scream. Her last moments forever etched onto her deceased face. Yunho immediately paused his recorder and degloved at the thought.

No.

Not her.

Not again.

He got up and rummaged quickly through his backpack. He found his pill bottle, popped an Ativan, and swallowed his remaining water. It was the only way he could make it through the fleeting thoughts of the woman that haunted his waking hours and even his dreams.

It was the only way to quell the dreams.

Better to not dream at all than to see her face.

That face.

Yunho shook his head. He was letting the thoughts consume him. He couldn’t let that happen. He was alone with no one-no San-to stop the spiral.

Thinking of the man, Yunho pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his texts. San hadn't sent anything all night. Even when fighting that wasn't like him. Yunho decided to extend an olive branch.

Yuyu: Can we talk when I get home? Please?

Yuyu: I love you.

With a fresh pair of gloves on, Yunho cleared his throat and pressed record once more.

“John Doe’s eyes are brown, no apparent contacts. Height on the table is 173cm, weighing roughly 60kg. Asian, possibly Korean. At least three tattoos visible from the front. A fourth possible on his upper back. A prominent mole is visible under his right eye. All teeth appear to be intact. Arrives with three earrings in each ear, 4 sets of rings on his fingers, all of which will be placed in his inventory bagging post evidential dissection.

John Doe was found unresponsive at the scene at 0225. Medics immediately began performing CPR in transit, pushing two rounds of atropine totaling 0.2mL at separate intervals. Transient ST waves in transit. Attempts to shock into steady rhythm at 0234 at 250 Jules, and at 0237 at 300 Jules. Asystole noted the on monitor and the subsequent EKG. Resuscitation continued until code was called in the emergency department by Dr. Cortez at 0252. Visible contusions from the bicycle falling on the body, as well as shock burns on his chest from the paddle patches. EKG and paddle patches to be removed…”

Yunho notated every minute detail he saw on the body, occasionally turning the body from side to side. John Doe’s clothes had already been removed, cut off in haste in the back of a speeding ambulance. The bag containing his belongings was in a compartment under the table the body lay on.

Once every personal item of Doe’s had been removed and placed within the bag, Yunho lay a body bag on the morgue table, using all his strength to move John Doe over onto the body bag. While not as muscular as San, his biceps could still withstand the strain of moving dead weight.

John Doe was placed with his hands at his side, facing forward. Yunho used an ink pad and took imprints of each of the ten fingerprints, hoping CODIS could find an identification over the weekend.

For someone so far gone, he seemed to only be sleeping; his pallor not completely ashen from time.Yunho degloved and pulled his rosary from his flannel shirt, a silent prayer escaping rapidly moving lips. Then he zipped the body bag up around the young man. Dr. Martinez would process the body for foul play and check for an updated ID on the young man after the weekend, if he ever made it back from his yearly Mortuary convention.

Yunho hastily tagged the body bag with all of the documentation before moving to place the body in one of the empty freezers. A small label slid into the identifier box, officially labeling John Doe’s whereabouts and Yunho shut the door.

He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket. His message to San was still on delivered. Something nagged at him.

Maybe he did mess something up in processing.

He checked the meticulous notes he had taken over his mortuary tenure. He had done everything according to procedure as an intern. But something felt off…wrong. What was he missing?

After microwaving a cup of medium spicy ramen, Yunho took a seat at his employer’s desk. He went to review his notes again when the overhead tone went off.

Another body.

He had the day from hell and now it was shaping up to be the night from hell. His ramen would most definitely go cold, if he ever even got the chance to eat it.

Yunho felt his phone buzz with a call and huffed, irritated.

“I know about the incoming, Dr. Martinez,” Yunho bit off more harshly than intended.

“Yunho,” his boss’s voice was barely that of a breath. “I need you to go to my office. I’ve called Dr. Ethan. He’s going to take over. I–”

“What is going on?” Yunho's confusion wasn’t unobvious. “I took care of John Doe earlier just fine. Why are you calling Dr. Ethan when I can handle this?”

Yunho felt his phone vibrate against his cheek, another call incoming. He pulled back to view the screen, quickly sending Vivian to voicemail.

“Yunho, I need you to trust me, please. Just go to my office–”

His phone began buzzing with another incoming call again. “Hang on, Doc. Viv is blowing up my phone. Let me get her to stop.”

“No!” was all Yunho heard before hanging up on his boss, accepting the seventh call from the mortician’s daughter.

“What the hell is so important that you’re blowing up my phone at 3:15am, Vivian?” Yunho couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice.

“I need you to promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay? Promise me, Yunho? I’m on my way now,” the young girl sounded frantic as she yelled at her phone in her car. “Promise me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He knew he was being snippy, but given the day’s events he didn’t frankly care. “ Vivian, there’s an incoming. I have to go. I can’t pander to your shit right now.”

“Yunho!’-He hung up his phone, only to answer his boss once more.

“YUNHO! Thank god. Ok. Ethan will be there in five minutes. Just go to my office. I’ll call again soon I-”

“What is going on?” Yunho snapped this time. “Why does Dr. Ethan need to be here to hold my hand? I can process a body by myself!”

His phone buzzed against his ear; Vivian, again. He pressed ignore.

“Yunho, son…you can’t process this body. I’m sorry,” Dr. Martinez sounded genuinely remorseful.

“Why? What have I done wrong?” Yunho knew he sounded like a kicked puppy. But he was damn good at his job.

“Nothing, Yunho. It’s not you. It’s…,” A long pause from Dr. Martinez carried through the phone as he chose his words carefully. “You will be needed for identification. The incoming deceased–his family is stuck in Korea due to a typhoon, but they’ve given permission for a significant other to identify the body.”

Static began to hiss around the words in Yunho’s ears.

What was his boss saying?

Why would Yunho be needed for an ID? Who’s family would give him that kind of permission?

“Yunho,” Dr. Martinez stuttered a breath, very clearly sobbing silently.

“It’s San.”

“It’s San.”

San.

His San.

Would he look peaceful? Would his eyes be closed as if sleeping, his skin barely pale?

Or would he be terrified, his last moment of fear etched across his face forever?

Yunho closed his eyes and sunk to the ground with a wail. He actively sought the victim that haunted him.

Where was she? Why couldn’t he bring the image of her to mind instead? Why was the only image he could conjure was San, sleeping, covered in blood?

Not sleeping.

Dead.

He was dead.

His love was dead.

A faint voice yelled his name. His cell phone slipped from his hand and clattered on the cement floor, the screen shattering along with his heart.

The finality of blackness engulfed him as he collapsed to the floor.

Chapter Text

*

“Break open another ammonia vial!” Yunho could hear Dr. Ethan yelling at someone, but he seemed so far away.

Was it Yunho?

Why did he need to get ammonia?

Why couldn't he open his eyes?

A harsh, bitter smell assaulted his sinuses, and Yunho gasped. He choked around nothing, blindly pushing himself up onto his hands.

“There he is! Come on, kid!”

Yunho could still hear Ethan, his voice grating, as he tried to regain his senses.

What had happened?

“Do you know where you are?” Ethan’s voice pierced the dark, Yunho’s eyelids still too heavy to open. He felt rough hands shake him. “Yunho? Can you answer me?”

With a cough, he finally replied. “UNM hospital, I think. Work.”

“Good,” Ethan sighed, slapping Yunho on the back. “He’s finally rousing.”

“I think he would have preferred to stay unconscious.” A female, familiar.

Vivian.

“Viv, what happened?” Yunho’s throat ached as he spoke. He felt a water bottle being pressed to his mouth.

“Drink,” she replied. “The ammonia fucking sucks.”

As the cool liquid slid down his throat, he gathered the strength to open his eyes. Harsh fluorescent lighting forced him to squint, as he looked around the room. He was in the morgue, on the floor, but why?

A body laying a mere five feet from him brought the memories flooding in.
The water he just drank came back up, spilling onto the concrete floor beneath him. Vivian quickly grabbed a vomit back from the wall, placing it under his mouth. Nothing but dry heaves followed.

San.

The body in front of him was San.

‘I hate to ask this, Yunho. But we need a positive identification on the body,” Ethan’s voice sounded distant as darkness tried to take Yunho once more.

“Christ, Ethan. Give the man a minute!” Vivian chided.

“Well he’s clearly in shock. I thought brevity best.”

Vivian glared up from the floor. “Go. You’re only making things worse.”

Yunho pushed the bag from his mouth, feeling empty. Not just his stomach, but his entire person.

San was gone.

And he was left here without him.

“What happened?” his voice rasped, his eyes meeting Vivian’s, concern etched on her young face.

“You blacked out, Yuyu,” her words were gentle. She watched as Ethan quickly cleaned the emesis, before giving the pair privacy.

“Not to me,” his eyes glanced back at the draped body. “He can’t be gone.”

“I’m so sorry.” A small arm draped around Yunho’s shivering shoulders. “A truck t-boned his motorcycle.”

“No,” Yunho’s reply was curt. “He was always so careful.”

“His helmet failed. They think his neck snapped on impact,” Vivian tried to comfort the man by rubbing his arm, but could tell he could barely feel it. Yunho shook his head, unable to process what he was hearing. San was the most careful driver he knew, frequently chastising Yunho on his bad habits.

“They need you to confirm it’s him, Yunho,” her voice still small, as though talking to a frightened child. “Do you think you can do that? Then I can get you home.”

“No!” Yunho’s voice pitched with unintended bluntness. “No one processes him but me.”

“Yunho, you’re too close to this. You can’t,” Vivian tried to reason with him as he began to stand, his stride a bit wobbly. He staggered to the draped body, hand outstretched to pull the sheet back.

Before he could, a face came to mind.

A woman.

No.

A man.

His face forever frozen in a scream.

Noticing Yunho faltering, Vivian reached up and pulled the drape down to San’s chest. A wail immediately tore from Yunho’s chest, his legs nearly giving way. Tears began to pour down his cheeks, staining his shirt.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” He cried. San’s eyes were closed as if the man were merely asleep, but there was no rise and fall of his chest. No flutter of dreaming eyes. “San, baby, wake up. Please, wake up! I need you, please! You can’t leave me! Not like this!”

Gravity took hold, and knees met hard concrete, San’s resting form still visible. Vivian wrapped her arms around Yunho from behind. “I’m so sorry.” Her own tears were evident in her voice. She hadn’t known San well, but considered Yunho a friend. A friend in agony.

“Please make him wake up,” he begged, reaching for San’s arm under the drapery. He intertwined their fingers. “I’ll do anything. Just please wake up!”

Yunho hadn’t realized when his breathing became so labored until he suddenly felt light headed. He also didn’t realize that Dr. Ethan was moving behind him as Vivian held him, a syringe in hand. The slight pierce of a needle stick in his right bicep and Yunho felt himself floating away, the sight of his boyfriend the last image before his eyes closed.

*
Yunho roused a few hours later to Dr. Martinez and Vivian asleep in chairs in what appeared to be a hospital room. He noticed the IV placed in the back of his hand. They must have sedated him when he panicked. How could he not? The love of his life lay on a slab downstairs, forever cold.

Yunho reached down and began picking at the tape holding the IV in place. The sudden noise startled Vivian, who elbowed her father awake.

“Not a good idea, son,” Dr. Martinez chided, causing Yunho to cease his endeavor. He glared up at the pair of them.

“Why am I here?”

“As expected, you took the news poorly,” Dr. Martinez straightened his glasses and sat up straighter. “I’m sorry I had to ask that of you.”

“Tell me Ethan isn’t processing him,” he all but begged. He was the only one allowed to touch San. No other man should have their hands on him.

“Yunho, you know you cannot process him. Outside of protocol, you’re too…”

“I’m too what?” He snapped at his boss.

“The case is too personal, Yuyu.” Vivian crossed the room and wrapped her hands around his neck in a hug. “I’m sorry, but you wouldn’t have been able to handle it without collapsing again.”

Yunho grabbed the girl and held her as tightly as he could. She was right. He knew she was right.

But San was his. And only his.

“We’re going to take you home. Is there anyone who can stay with you?” Dr. Martinez queried as he gathered his coat that starkly contrasted the shorts he wore.

“No,” Yunho replied sullenly. It wasn’t for a lack of friends, but for the need to be alone. Alone in an apartment full of memories of San. Of being happy. Of being whole.

Vivian gave him a knowing look. “You really shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I will be fine,” he promised, buzzing for the nurse to come and discharge him.

*
Fine.

Yunho had said he would be fine.

And he was fine.

He was fine as he sobbed over pictures that adorned their apartment shelves and walls. Fine while crying into San’s worn hoodie. Fine when he wailed at the broken coffee mug sitting in the trash from their earlier fight. He let tears overtake him as he stared at his phone, his last message to his boyfriend showing delivered but never read.

He couldn’t stay here. The place was a shrine to their love. A love that no longer breathed life. Surrounded by shattered dreams and empty promises.

Which is how Yunho found himself back at work, a bottle of Soju in his hand.

He had been alone in his thoughts in the empty morgue, when a flit of red hair caught the corner of his eye.

“I tracked your ass on Snapchat,” Vivan answered Yunho’s raised eyebrows. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay home.”

Yunho snorted and took a swig.

"How many fingers in are you?" Vivian asked, plopping her crossbody on the desk.

"What?" Yunho's word slurred, his right hand shaking a green liquor bottle in her general direction.

"I asked how drunk you are," she replied, taking a seat next to him on the ground, their backs up against the freezer doors. "But based on the receipt, I'm assuming the Soju was full when purchased on your trip here.”

Yunho hummed in acknowledgment, taking another drink. It was then Vivian's eyes caught the bright purple book lying next to Yunho, the pages opened to a certain spell.

"Yunho. Tell me you aren't planning to do something stupid," Vivian tried to reach across him to retrieve the book, but he blocked her.

"It worked Viv. With the toad, Francis. It worked."

"Frogcesco was a FROG, Yunho! That was a minimal power transference! And he has disappeared, so we don’t even know what state he’s in!”

"I know." His reply was sullen.

"You don't even believe in it. The majority of making a spell work is faith. You can't just wing something like this! That's not how real magic works!" Vivian stared at Yunho, her eyes wide with concern.

"I do," he sighed, another swig of Soju burning his throat.

"You do what, Yu? You've got me thinking you've lost your god damned mind over here!"

"I believe, Vivian." He turned to face her, setting the bottle between them. "I have to. It's San's only chance."

Vivian stared at Yunho in disbelief. Just days ago the same man had entertained her notion of bringing an amphibian back with passing interest. Now he was talking about bringing a person back to life.

"Yunho. I know how much you love San. But we can't do this," her voice was small, sad.

"I'm not asking you to," he reached for the alcohol once more, only to have it snatched from his grasp.

"I can't let you do this-"

"Vivian, I'm not asking."

"Shut up!" She huffed, taking a large swig of Soju with a grimace. "I can't let you do this alone. You don't understand all the parameters. And you need to sober up to even begin."

With that, Vivian stood, taking the booze with her as she headed to the break room to make a pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night. Probably full of disappointment. But she was willing to try. After all, it was her fault he even knew about the spell.

Once the black coffee finished brewing, she returned to a nearly unconscious Yunho, forcing a full cup into his empty hands. Yunho glanced at her, eyes bloodshot and red from crying for so long. He sniffled quietly.

"The last thing we did was fight," he whispered, staring back at the hot, black liquid before him. "I didn't even tell him I love him."

Vivian placed a hand on Yunho's quivering shoulder, silent sobs racking through him once more. As an empath and a witch, she could literally feel the pain radiating from his soul as if it were her own.

"You work on sobering up," she nodded to the cup he had yet to drink from. " I will work on the potion portion of the spell. But there's something you need to know."

Yunho took a noisy sip of the bitter fluid. "What?"

Vivian sighed and ran a hand through her sleep messed hair, unsure of how far Yunho was truly willing to go.

"A spell this big requires a sacrifice."

“I have to kill someone?” his voice pitched an octave.

“Virgin blood is always powerful,” she answered, her head tilting slightly with a slight smirk. “Fortunately for you, Callum doesn’t want me. No one ever has. So we have plenty of that to use.”
Yunho blinked at her.

“We’re killing you?” he asked, confusion evident. Vivan barked out a laugh.

“No. Not today anyway,” she answered, disappearing behind the freezers. Yunho made quick work of his coffee, emptying his cup and standing to go get more. Vivian’s head popped around the freezers.
“Don’t even think of adding Soju to that.”

“Just sugar,” he promised as he headed for a refill.

*
Vivian took her time composing the potion, triple checking every measurement. Especially the part that required a cup of her blood.

“Are you sober yet?” she asked, rounding the corner with a butterfly needle, the tail of which swung back and forth, and a large beaker. “I need you to stick my artery to get blood. I can’t do it.”

“Close enough,” Yunho answered, standing up from his boss’s desk. “You should probably sit down, though.”

He pulled the seat out he had been using, gesturing for her to take his place. Yunho walked out into the main morgue to grab gloves and bandaging. It had been a minute since he had stuck the living, but he wasn’t about to voice that out loud.

He returned to the office, gloves on, taking the needle from Vivian and feeding the tubing into the opening of the beaker. “You sure about this?”

“I already added the anticoagulant. Just do it,” she nodded confidently, though her voice broke ever so slightly. Vivian lay her arm across the desk, allowing Yunho to feel for the pulse in her wrist. He closed his eyes.

“You are not sticking me with your eyes closed!” Vivian yelled, jerking her arm back, as Yunho began positioning the needle, causing him to jump.

“Christ, Vivian. I need to visually map what I can’t actually see. My eyes will be open before I stick you!” Yunho chastised, repositioning himself. She lay her arm back on the desk, letting him feel for her pulse. It was strong and fast beneath his long fingers. Opening his eyes, Yunho slid the needle beneath the flesh of her wrist, a flash of red indicating he had hit her artery. Blood quickly began to fill the beaker, her heightened pulse increasing the rate of flow. Yunho occasionally swirled the beaker, ensuring the anticoagulant mixed with her blood.

“I’m starting to get light headed,” she murmured, her pale appearance taking on an even more pallid tone.

“Just a little more,” Yunho answered, watching as blood reached the indicated fill line. With a final swirl he removed the needle from her wrist, quickly applying the bandage and applying pressure. “Hold pressure. I’ll get you some juice.”

“I don’t need it. This used to be a bad habit of mine, remember?” Vivian looked ashamed as she held the gauze to her wrist. “I can tolerate it. Just give me a second. Go mix that with the potion I’ve already made.”

Yunho did as he was told, taking the beaker back into the morgue, and mixing the blood with the bright purple solution Vivian concocted. The liquid turned dark, making him wonder if something went wrong. The potion used on the frog was still bright in hue.

“Viv” he called out. “I think we messed up.”

“No we didn’t,” she said, appearing by his side, sterile wrapping now tight around her wrist to hold the gauze in place. “The spell requires more blood than what we used before, so the color is much darker. Now for the hard part.”

“The hard part?”

“We need to open San’s bag,” she answered quietly, unsure of how Yunho would react. Without a word, he headed to the freezers, opening 8C, the drawer just above the John Doe he had processed.

“Bag is open,” his voice flat as he stared at the still form before him, trying not to react.

“I need a few hairs,” Vivian came over with the beaker and a questionable looking stepping stool. She reached out to pluck a few strands before Yunho stopped her, his hand closing around hers.

“I will get it.”

Grabbing scissors from the desk drawer, he crossed back over and snipped a few hairs at the base of San’s neck where it wouldn’t be noticeable. He handed the strands to Vivian, who promptly dropped them in the beaker, swirling the vial to mix the hair in.

“Hold the spell book where I can read it, would you?” she asked, trying to sound clinically detached as she pulled a small headlamp from her pocket. Yunho shook his head, pocketing the scissors, and reaching for the headlamp.

“This is my task, Viv,” he said, sliding the headlamp in place over his long bangs. He quickly pulled off and pocketed the rosary he always wore. Now wasn’t the time for conflicting religions. He held the spell book tightly in his hands. “I’m better at Latin than you, anyway. And we only have one shot at this, unlike with the frog.”

Vivian nodded solemnly, attempting to keep herself steady on the rickety, old step stool.

“I will begin pouring the potion onto him near the end,” she continued swirling the contents of the vial as she spoke. Yunho nodded in agreement, clearing his throat before he began reading the Latin aloud.

Magic stirred in the air, the heady anticipation mixed within. The morgue lights began to flicker as power flowed near the hospital, illuminating powerful ley lines in the floor a hue of purple, pulling power from the Earth around them. Yunho’s rapid muttering filled the silence. The lights suddenly went completely black, the ley lines fading where they had converged on the pair. The headlamp barely illuminated the Latin as Vivian leaned over to pour the mixture.

Everything went to shit at once.

A frog jumped out of San’s body bag, startling Vivian, causing her to fall off the step stool. In the process, the entire contents of the beaker drained on the body bag below San. Yunho had just uttered the last word of the spell as the contents absorbed through the body bag.

“Fuck!” He yelled, tossing the book as the lights came back on. Vivian hesitantly pulled herself up, the beaker rolling away from her on the floor. She was afraid to look Yunho in the eye.
“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered, fearing his wrath. Yunho ran his hands through his hair, throwing the headlamp across the room. He stared at San. They had only one chance and it was gone.

He was gone.

Tears prickled behind his eyes, as he reached a hand out to help the girl up.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, disappointment evident in his tone. Vivian felt her eyes begin to well up.

“I’m okay. Yunho-”

“Don’t,” he stopped her. Apologizing wouldn’t change the situation. She had tried. They had tried. But in the end they had failed, thanks to a damned frog.

“I’m not great, if anyone is asking,” a man’s voice came from the body bag beneath San’s. “It’s cold as balls in here.”

Yunho looked at Vivian.

Vivian looked back at him in utter surprise. “Oh no.”

‘Oh shit,” Yunho countered.

“Why am I naked?” the man asked.

A frog ribbited in reply.

Chapter Text

*

“Hello? Is anyone out there?” the nasally voice asked from a zipped body bag. Vivian and Yunho quickly zipped San up, sliding his drawer back into place and shutting the door, before opening freezer 8B. They pulled out the tray and slowly unzipped the body bag. John Doe quickly shimmied his way out, sitting upright. “Those things really need better breathing holes.”

“No one has complained before,” Vivian quipped, taking in the man before her. Yunho stood next to her, mouth agape. He felt the blood drain from his face.  “Yunho, I think we have a problem.”

“Really, Viv? What gave that away?” he asked, incredulous. The naked man before them side eyed the pair. 

“Hi. Confused guy in a body bag here. Anybody have spare clothes?” he inquired through a shiver. Yunho looked at Vivian. 

“I will go to med-surg and get some scrubs and socks,” she gave Yunho a pointed look in return, head cocking at the freezing man, as she headed out of the morgue.

“So,” Yunho pocketed his hands awkwardly. “What’s your name?”

“Wooyoung,” he answered through chattering teeth. “You?”

“Yunho,” he extends a hand, not completely forgetting his manners. Wooyoung reached out to shake it. 

“Feels slightly larger than I remember,” Wooyoung looked down at their joined hands curiously. Yunho couldn’t bring himself to let go, the only warmth the man had until his counterpart’s return. His inquisitive nature was also winning out. 

“What do you mean?” Yunho asked, his brows furrowing. They’d never met before. He definitely would have remembered the man before him. Smaller than San in every way, his eyes asymmetrical, only adding to the handsomeness of his slightly gaunt face. His body was more willowy, whereas San was more muscular, but Yunho wasn’t mistaken. During the intake examination he could feel the hidden muscles of a dancer or someone who did Pilates under the slightly tan skin in his hands. The man before him was in no way weak. Just built differently. 

Wooyoung gripped Yunho's hand tighter before letting the man go. 

“Those aren’t my memories,” he sounded confused, looking down at his own hands. He felt his hair, his throat, down his torso, as though everything he touched was somehow alien to him. “This wasn’t his body.”

Yunho’s eyes widened. As he opened his mouth to ask Wooyoung what he meant, Vivian rounded the corner, teal scrubs and bright yellow socks in hand. “Found something that should work!”

“Viv,” he whispered, grabbing the clothes from the girl. “Something is wrong.”

Vivan raised her eyebrows at him. 

“He said that’s not his body. That his memories aren’t his own.”

The naked man emerged from the body bag, bare feet settling on the concrete floor, toes wiggling as he stretched. Vivian didn’t even bother to turn around at Yunho’s startled cough. He handed Wooyoung the clothes, keeping an eye on him to make sure he was steady while trying not to stare, though he had seen him thoroughly naked just hours prior.

“Who’s Choi San?”

Vivian’s wide eyes met Yunho’s.

“Oh yeah,” she gasped. “We fucked up.”

*

An hour later, an elderly woman just this side of death knocked at the morgue doors. Vivian hurriedly answered, letting her coven master in. The elderly woman took one look at Vivian’s appalled face before asking, “What have you done this time?”

Shenanigans really were a known trait of the redhead.

“Um, wetriedtobringaguybacktolife,” the words spilled out of her in a breathless rush. 

“Good god, calm down and repeat yourself. I’m half deaf!” her coven master chided, nearly hitting her with her purse. 

“We tried to bring Yunho’s boyfriend back to life, Agatha,” she repeated, her eyes closing, awaiting the oncoming chastisement. 

“You better be kidding,” the old woman dead panned, looking between Vivian, Yunho, and the scrub clad Wooyoung, who now held a cup of black coffee. “You're not kidding.”

“I convinced her to,” Yunho jumped in, not letting her take all of the blame.

“And who are you to play with witchcraft, boy?” Agatha scolded, turning on him. He could almost feel the rosary burning in his pocket, a reminder of days in Catholic school and being disciplined by nuns with harsh rulers. 

“A man in love,” Wooyoung answered absently, as though he weren’t even an active participant in this debacle. 

“You are not just you,” Agatha set her purse down on the desk next to Vivian’s bag, slowly approaching where Wooyoung sat at a morgue table. She eyed the man carefully, like he was an easily frightened animal. He seemed distant, as if pensive or possibly completely empty headed. She couldn’t tell yet. 

Agatha looked around for the spell book, spotting the familiar neon purple binding. 

“Which spell was used?” she asked, anger lacing her tone. 

Yunho handed her the book, the pages still open. “Soul transference? Are you insane, child?”

Agatha glared at Vivian, who had taken to hiding her small frame behind Yunho as best as she could. She knew there would be hell to pay when she called her coven master for help. But she was never good with disappointing others. And right now there was not only heaps of disappointment, but blatant confusion as to what went wrong.  

“He was going to do it with or without me,” Vivian replied, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“And how did he even know about the spell? Hmm?” She had the girl there. The book should never have left the coven’s premise. Let alone been experimented with.

“I was just trying to practice small things,” Vivian countered, trying to defend herself to no end. She had royally screwed up. Only this time she was caught and with true repercussions to her actions.

“He,” Agatha pointed a wrinkled finger at Wooyoung, “is not a small thing. In fact, his very existence goes against our coven’s rules, does it not?”

“Stop,” Yunho interjected. “Just..stop. What I did was my choice. She tried talking me out of it. But I did what I wanted. So stop yelling at her.”

“No,” Agatha bit back. “This unruly girl needs to learn control before she gets herself killed.”

“Hi again,” Wooyoung interrupted, his coffee empty. “I realize berating her is well earned and all, but what the hell is wrong with me? And can I have more coffee?”

Yunho grabbed the empty cup and got Wooyoung a refill, handing it to his slowly warming hands. 

“You’re an inception case,” Agatha answered, Yunho handing her a cup of coffee as well. Vivian came out from hiding long enough to secure her master a chair to sit in. “Two souls inhabiting one body. Something blasphemous and unheard of.”

“Oh,” Wooyoung took a sip of coffee. “My nan called me blasphemous once. Guess she wasn’t kidding.”

“I assume you were trying to put the soul back into its original body?”

“Yes.” They answered simultaneously. 

“San was supposed to go back into his deceased body,” Vivian finished, still unable to meet her teacher’s gaze. 

“A deceased body?!” Agatha was aghast. “You wanted to let a walking corpse just flit about?”

“What do you mean?” asked Yunho, emerging from the break room again, this time with water for himself. 

“The dead continue to decay,” Agatha’s eyes narrowed onto him. Whatever fear Vivian felt, Yunho was beginning to experience it as well. He couldn’t feel whatever power Vivian wielded, but the woman in front of him exuded it from her pores. “Not just their bodies, but their souls. And this one-” her finger back on Wooyoung, “wasn’t dead to begin with. Which is the only reason the spell worked.”

“What do you mean he wasn’t dead?” Yunho asked, taken aback. It wasn’t like he checked for a pulse when corpses were brought to the morgue. If their time of death was called, who was he to question it? Unless they sat up and talked…

Which Wooyoung was. And with quite a glowing pallor. 

Oh fuck. 

“He may have been near death, but this man wasn’t dead when you fools put another soul in him,” Agatha threw back the little bit of coffee remaining. “Soul transference involves using a living vessel as a host, not reanimating the dead as you thought. God knows you will never have access to that spell.”

“But it worked on the frog and he was dead…” Vivian trailed off, looking completely confused.

“Apparently not dead enough,” Agatha stood, reaching for her purse.  

“So how do we fix it?” Vivian was chewing her previously manicured nails to the quick, afraid to know the answer. Both for her sake and that of the two (three?) men in the room.

Agatha answered her subordinate simply, “You do nothing.”

“We can’t just do nothing,” Yunho sounded empty, his eyes straying to where Wooyoung swished coffee remains in his cup. Was the man always this unusual? Or was this a side effect of the spell?

“The guy in here with me isn’t cool with the sit and wait approach either,” Wooyoung sat the coffee cup down on the morgue table. “In fact, he has a lot to say against it.”

“You can hear him?” Yunho asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice. It worked. San was alive.

Sort of.

“Of course I can,” Wooyoung looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Vivian and Yunho looked at Wooyoung in disbelief. Why hadn’t he mentioned this sooner?

Agatha grabbed the spellbook from the desk, tucking it under an arm. “The souls will fight for dominance until one wins. The remaining soul gets the body, the other dies.”

She stated it as fact and nothing more. 

Either Wooyoung lived in Wooyoung’s body or San did. 

Not both. 

Not for long.

“I will call for Marcus and Mingi to come move the shell corpse to a safe location,” Agatha stated, pulling a flip phone from her purse. “Should burial or cremation occur, the foreign soul will be ripped to the afterlife in pieces. It would be in agony for eternity.’

“Christ!” Yunho gave his eyes a harsh rub. “Can we please not call him a corpse?”

“Well he is one.”

“I’m painfully aware,” Yunho unintentionally snapped. Agatha didn’t even seem to notice as she looked for specific numbers in her phone. 

“And by Mingi, do you mean Song Mingi?” Yunho inquired, following her as she shuffled around the morgue absentmindedly. Or so he thought. 

“There are a lot of ley lines converging here,” ignoring Yunho, Agatha mumbled to herself as the line rang. Vivian came out of hiding long enough to stare at the floor, as if she could see what her coven master could. Only the cement floor met her gaze. 

“Yes, that Mingi,” Vivian answered as her teacher began speaking into her phone, her tone more hushed. “He’s part of our coven. I take it you know him?”

“I thought we did. We met him on campus in an Asian cultural group a few years back,” Wooyoung came to stand beside Yunho, hands on his hips in annoyance. He was worrying his lip like San often did when deep in thought. He could almost see San in the man’s face if he tried hard enough.

But it wasn’t him. 

Not really.

Not completely.

Yunho shook his head, bringing Wooyoung back into focus. “Viv, I know you’re benched, but do you know of any spells that separate the souls?”

“What, like putting Wooyoung’s soul in San’s body? It exists, but that’s fucking dark, Yu,” she shook her head as the final words spilled from her lips.

“No, like bring one to the surface at a time, so I know who I’m dealing with,” his eyes were wide on her.

She thought he meant to murder Wooyoung and in cold blood. He reached into his jean’s pocket and grabbed his rosary, placing it back around his neck, letting the cold beads settle where they belonged. How would he even go to confession after this?

Forgive me Father, for my coworker thinks I want to murder a man. Also, I have dabbled in the dark arts.

Jesus fucking Christ. This was a mess and a half.

Mass was not in his future. If he even had one by the end of it all.

Vivian sighed in relief next to him. “I think there’s a spell that allows soul permanence. It’s like object permanence. Both souls will still exist in the body, even when you can’t directly interact with them or sense them. But like you said, I’m benched. I have no way to access the books needed for that.”

“But I know it,” Agatha cut in, flipping her phone shut. “I’ve already knocked out the exit cameras for the next few hours so both men can be removed without causing a commotion. Give me your rosary, Yumin. Its power is strong enough to act as a permanence amulet.” 

“It’s Yunho,” he whispered, slipping the religious piece from his neck for the second time that night. Agatha compressed the rosary between wrinkled, age spotted hands and murmured in rapid Latin. She spoke swiftly, leaving Vivian and Yunho unable to make out her words. Once her lips stilled, lines in the floor converged at her feet, faintly glowed, the power seeping through her and into the rosary. An ominous red began to shine from her closed palms. 

As quickly as the spell gained life, it faded, exhaling a rustle through the silence. Agatha opened her hands to the slightly glowing rosary. She turned and handed it to Wooyoung instead of Yunho. 

“When you wear this, the other soul will take charge. Take it off and you will be back in full control. But fix this fast. The longer he’s in you, the less he will need the amulet to surface,” she looked at Wooyoung as she spoke, but her warning was directed at all souls in the room. Wooyoung nodded somberly, his eyes distant again. 

“You,” she turned back on Yunho. “Will be the only one able to see him when he changes, due to your strong tie to the rosary. Now get him somewhere safe. I imagine there will be a lot of questions if he’s found to be up and walking around.”

*

Yunho quickly retrieved his car and parked at the morgue’s back doors, leaving Wooyoung in the witches’ hands. Agatha wasn’t wrong. If anyone saw John Doe walking around in scrubs he could be lost to him. Vivian hesitantly left with her cover master, her eyes pleading with Yunho for help he couldn’t give. 

Yunho left a quick text message for Dr. Martinez, explaining that he wouldn’t be back to work for an undisclosed amount of time due to bereavement. He received a sparkly heart emoji from his boss, before it quickly changed to a thumbs up. He shook his head. His mentor really needed to lay off smartphones. 

He led a distracted Wooyoung to his car, quickly throwing it into reverse.

“Can you take me home, please?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded small over the soft rock playing through the car speakers. Yunho nodded. 

Buildings and fake trees passed in a blur as Yunho rushed through what little traffic Albuquerque had to offer near 4am on a Tuesday. He nervously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, the silence deafening. 

Everything possible had gone horribly wrong. He had San back but in another man’s body. One that was still inhabited by the original owner. He would never hear San’s rich baritone laugh, nor the cute little noises he made when he was amused with himself. He would never feel his muscled body against his own, whether it was to hold him or unravel him. Never wholly. 

That San was gone. 

He was left with a ghost.

A whisper. 

But it had to be better than no San at all. 

Right?

As he pulled into his parking spot, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in the quiet of the drive. His passenger turned to look at him. Wooyoung couldn’t keep the disappointment and confusion from his tone. 

“I meant my home.”

“Right,” Yunho chastised himself internally. Of course he had. “Um, you didn’t come in with any identification or keys in your belongings.”

Wooyoung blinked at him. “Oh.”

“You’re welcome to stay here, for as long as you need,” Yunho cleared his throat, hoping he wasn’t coming off as too needy. He couldn’t let the body containing San just go. Wooyoung had to realize that, right?

“That’s probably for the best,” Wooyoung’s tone had slightly changed, almost playful, and Yunho noticed his scrub pocket emanating a slight red glow. His eyes met Wooyoung’s, brown now almost engulfed in black. “You want me around, don’t you, Yuyu?”

The ghostly shimmer of his boyfriend overtook Wooyoung's smaller frame. Yunho shuddered a breath. “San?”

The faint glimmer of San’s dimpled mouth smiled almost ominously. “Who else, love?”