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Luke met Michael in the springtime, and he was instantly hooked.
As the snow was melting and the winter jackets were being shed, Luke was looking forward to something warm, and Michael was a bubble of sunshine, always smiling and laughing. He lit up Luke’s world.
At the beginning of their relationship, he’d have the occasional bad day where he’d want to just be alone, but after a few weeks of seeing each other, he started inviting Luke to be alone with him. They’d cuddle together in bed, heads under the covers even as the temperature outside rose, and whisper secrets to each other.
They had inside jokes that made Luke laugh until his knees couldn’t support his body anymore, and even their fights — though small and about meaningless things like what to watch on Netflix — just further enamoured Luke.
They’ve been together for six months, strong as ever. Only…
So things aren’t perfect . There’s this one bit that Luke doesn’t quite understand. Michael has an ongoing inside joke with himself where he keeps trying to convince Luke he’s a witch. He didn’t tell Luke his ‘secret’ until they’d been together for six months, but when he did, it was with a serious face and promise that Luke wouldn’t tell any witch hunters or ask Michael to perform any dark magic in his favor. It was cute at first, Luke going along with it, smiling as he thanked whatever deity was looking down on him that he got such an adorable boyfriend, but then he started to notice how in depth Michael went for this joke.
He has an all black cat, an adorable thing named Persephone. She’s sweet as can be and always runs to Luke as soon as he walks through the door, but still. She’s all black. Luke didn’t think anything of it until he saw the cauldron resting atop Michael’s dining table, which is just a ridiculous amount of dedication for a joke that’s not hitting.
There was once a time when they were playing around and making fun of each other that Luke asked Michael to show some of his magic, but Michael shook his head, eyes wider and brighter than Luke had ever seen them. “My powers are only strong in October. If you can wait, I’ll show you something incredible.”
Luke laughed it off, and let his boyfriend have his fun. Every once in a while, Michael would have a cloak lying on the table, or he’d act embarrassed when Luke saw a triangular flask full of some clear liquid, claiming it was a potion.
Sure, he’s a little weird — but odd, pretend witchy tendencies aside, Luke really likes him. They work well together and Michael’s a genuinely caring person.
He’s just a little strange.
❖
On the first day of October — a day Luke wouldn’t normally take the time to recognize — he walks into Michael’s house and is hit with Halloween.
He’s seen some lawns with skeletons and pumpkins, and his neighbor has been playing Monster Mash on repeat, but it’s nothing compared to the complete essence of the holiday filling every single space of Michael’s home.
There are cobwebs on the walls and covering the corners of the living room. The caldron is honestly steaming from its spot on the table, and it’s surrounded by what look like chemistry flasks. Persephone trots past his feet, and she’s even wearing a little witch’s hat. It’s adorable, and Luke has to laugh at how far Michael’s willing to go for this joke.
His boyfriend is nothing if not extra, and Luke is unbelievably charmed by it all.
“ Michael ?”
His call is met with a thud down the hall where Persephone disappeared. He makes his way back there, having to blink a few times when he walks into Michael’s room. It’s completely dark, almost unbelievable for this time of day. The curtains are drawn and his light bulbs have been replaced with black lights, making the whole room shine purple.
The man in question is standing at a bookshelf, dressed in a dark cloak, and putting glass bottles where his books used to sit. He’s holding the same chemistry flasks that were cluttering his dining room table, only these ones seem to be filled with what looks like various flavors of Kool-Aid.
It’s a lot of unnecessary work for a joke, in Luke’s opinion.
“Good morning?”
Michael looks up from his flasks with a grin. “It’s October.”
“It sure is,” Luke laughs. This is by far the weirdest moment he’s ever had in his relationship with Michael. “You really don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Of course not.” Michael’s voice is breathy, all of his focus going into organizing his Kool-Aid. “My magic is strongest this time of year.”
Luke bites his lips to stop himself from saying something he shouldn’t, from making a joke of something Michael’s put so much — too much — effort into. He considers the juices Michael’s putting up, and figures they can’t have too long of a shelf life.
“Don’t you think those should be in the kitchen?”
Michael looks from his hands to Luke, and then to the shelf, his brows furrowed for the entire journey. He glances back at Luke with disbelief written on his face. “Of course not, don’t be ridiculous.” He puts the flask in his hand on the shelf, and then reaches down, pulling a string out of the box at his feet. It comes up with a tiny flask attached to it. He wears it like a necklace. “I need to keep them close.”
“Right, of course.” A bit of the novelty and humor wears off. Michael’s not acting like he usually does during a joke, and it makes Luke feel slightly off. “How silly of me.”
There’s no reply from Michael as he focuses closely on his work. Luke watches, wondering if he’ll crack a smile and reveal that this was all just for fun, but nothing happens. They both stand in the room for far too long saying nothing, the focus of their attention — sugary juice in flasks — better fit for a classroom.
Persephone trails into the room, and Luke reaches down to pet her, but she she avoids his hands. Usually, she runs to him the moment he’s in the door, but she’s barely even acknowledged his presence since his arrival.
It’s all very peculiar.
After far too long has past, Luke asks, “Are you ready for breakfast?”
“I first have to finish,” Michael answers without so much as looking up.
“I’ll just wait in the living room.”
“You don’t have to fear the magic, Luke.” Michael’s voice almost echoes in the room, and it sends a slight chill down Luke’s spine. “You can watch.”
Persephone is sitting at Michael’s feet, making consistent eye contact with Luke, while Michael sets up a display for a few test tubes of grape Kool-Aid. It’s all too weird for him.
“I - I’m alright,” he says eventually, slowly inching his way out. “I’ll just be on the couch.” He makes his way out and waits. He hears Michael talking to himself, can catch small phrases like ‘eye of newt’ and ‘kanama blood.’ Luke stays in his seat, refusing to indulge Michael’s antics.
And when Michael finishes up, emerging from his room without the cloak on, Luke pretends nothing happened and takes his boyfriend out for breakfast, leaving behind what feels like an alternate dimension, and hoping he doesn’t have to go back.
❖
It’s been a week of Michael’s ‘witchy nonsense’ and Luke’s not afraid to admit it’s a little fun. Sure, it’s confusing as all hell, but movie nights are tinted purple, the decorations look amazing in Michael’s house, and though it may be embarrassing to say out loud, his boyfriend wearing a cloak does something to Luke.
Although, when he said he’d blow him in public underneath his cloak, he was speaking rhetorically. It wasn’t an invitation for Michael to show up in said cloak at Luke’s job, in the middle of the afternoon, looking like he’s just escaped a kidnapper.
Luke grabs his arm and pulls him to the corner of the store before he can knock down a record display. “What’re you doing here?” he asks quietly, making sure to keep his voice down as not to disturb the customers.
“Luke,” Michael all but yells, having no regard for the customers. “I need your hair.” A teenager looking at the Smiths record snaps to look at them, his face showing all of the confusion and slight disgust that Luke’s feeling. “Quick, we can’t waste much time.”
“No, Michael, I - ” Luke’s words go unsaid, interrupted by Michael’s nimble hands reaching for his hair. He grabs Michael’s wrist and pushes him back gently. “Michael, stop. What’s going on?”
“I need a piece of your hair, babe,” Michael explains, his eyes rolling in a less than playful way. “It’s important.”
“I’m at work .”
Despite Luke’s refusal, Michael keeps trying to reach for Luke’s hair, and it’s attracting the attention of all of the customers. It’s by far the weirdest moment they’ve ever had as a couple, but Luke puts it down to the joke. Michael’s willing to go the extra mile for this long running witch gag. Luke can’t say it’s not admirable.
But that still doesn’t stop him from batting Michael’s hands away from his hair.
“It’s for your own protection,” Michael insists.
“ Stop .” Luke’s less assertive than he was at the beginning, his tone more of a whine than anything else by now. They must make quite the sight, hands flapping at each other in their bickering.
Michael groans, throwing his hands down, both curled into fists. “Being connected to me in this month is a call for disaster , love,” he explains. “I need your hair for a protection spell. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because I forgot to do this on the eve of the season.”
It’s confusing, and he’s almost certain Michael’s speaking gibberish. He wants to drag Michael outside and figure what on Earth he’s getting from this joke, but the sound of a door squeaking open echoes through the store, and Luke sees his boss walking out of her office, eyebrows furrowed as she looks around.
Afraid of being reprimanded at the cost of this one joke, he just rips a few pieces of his hair out and gives them to Michael. It’s not a gift, it’s not money, yet Michael’s face lights up like he’s just been given the entire world. He leans up and kisses Luke’s cheek.
“You’ll be safe now,” he whispers.
He leaves with a wave of his cape and a giggle that’s never come from his mouth before, and Luke’s left standing there wondering what the fuck just happened, and how far Michael’s willing to go with this whole ‘witch’ thing.
❖
It’s a rare occasion that Luke, Michael, and all of their friends have the same day off, so when they do it’s somewhat of a holiday for them. It happens only once a month or so, of course, but they go all out the night before, ordering enough drinks to kill a few men, and then get properly trashed.
They don’t take this night lightly — never casually decide that day, and they definitely don’t forget when it’s coming. They plan weeks ahead, save up their extra cash, and spend the week prior getting excited. The group chat they’re in has been going off all day with promises of getting each other fucked up and bets on how long it’ll take before Calum starts trying to request Fleetwood Mac.
It’s an important night, alright?
Which is why it’s so peculiar when Luke knocks on Michael’s house door and there’s no answer. Luke waits a minute, but when Michael doesn’t open, he tries the handle. It’s unlocked.
The house is quiet, still in a way that suggests nobody’s home. Luke walks down the hallway and opens Michael’s bedroom door to see him sitting cross-legged in the center of it, candles lit to either side of him and Persephone sitting in front of him, her ears bent and eyes closed.
Altogether, it looks like something of satanic ritual, but Luke knows Michael would never go that far, not even for the most spectacular of jokes. If he had to guess, he’d say they’re meditating.
When Luke shuts the bedroom door behind him, suddenly Persephone’s eyes are opening and she’s hissing at Luke. They sound scares him. Persephone’s never been anything but an angel around him, running towards him for pets and cuddles the moment he walks inside. Sometimes she doesn’t stay long, running off to do whatever feline things she has planned, but she never hissed at him.
That’s his first sign something’s wrong.
The second is the agitated groan Michael lets out. And when Luke looks up, he’s glaring, something annoyed and angry — a look Luke’s never been graced with from his boyfriend.
“You alright?” Luke asks hesitantly.
The tense set of Michael’s shoulders tell him that he’s not alright. “You’ve distracted me.”
“I’m… sorry?” He doesn’t mean to sound insincere, but this feels like a side of Michael unseen before. Even his cat is acting off. “I told you I’d be here at eight.”
“Levitation takes time, Luke,” Michael snaps. His legs unfold until they’re bent in front of him. His cloak lays awkwardly on his shoulder, and Luke wants to fix it, but he knows Michael would never allow him to. “I was almost there, but now it’ll take another hour to reach where I was.”
“Levitation?” Luke’s confused at first, but then his words set in. “Wait, an hour ?”
Michael rolls his eyes and Luke’s a bit hurt. Michael’s treating him as though he’s stupid, when honestly, he hasn’t had clue about anything that’s happened since the first of the month. “I know this is all new for you, but yes. I have to center myself, and Persephone has to center herself.” Looking down, Luke sees Persephone sitting exactly where she was when he’d entered, stiff as a board. Oddly enough, it feels like she’s almost angry with him. “It takes about an hour before we’re both at peace, and then I can levitate.”
“Like float?”
“What else would it mean?” Michael replies too quickly, sounding exasperated.
Luke bites back any other comment. He knows that his boyfriend is a bit of a head case, but he’s pretty sure he loves him, weird witchy tendencies and all. This is just an odd moment in their relationship and they can easily move past it.
They just have to stop talking about it.
“We promised Ashton we’d meet him at the bar at eighty-thirty,” he says, getting back to the topic at hand.
“But I’m too grounded.”
“I - ” Luke cuts himself off. He doesn’t know what Michael means, but he doesn’t want to fight about it. He takes a deep breath. “I understand,” he says instead, “but we made a promise. Don’t witches have an honor code?”
Michael rolls his eyes and stands up, ripping his cloak off with an attitude Luke’s never seen from him before. “You don’t have to be so fucking offensive about it.” Michael storms out, lips pursed, and not addressing Luke at all.
Utterly confused, Luke follows. He knows his jaw is dropped, but he can’t seem to close it. He feels like he’s just said something he shouldn’t’ve, but he doesn’t know how he possibly could have.
All night, Michael’s a bit off kilter. He doesn’t drink much, and he nearly trips three times before they even meet their friends. When Calum makes jokes at Luke’s expense, Michael doesn’t laugh, too busy staring off into the distance. Luke tries to pull him aside, tries to figure out what’s going on in his head, but he keeps insisting it’s because he’s too connected to Earth. That he’d be better had he gotten to levitate.
Luke lets it go on for about an hour before he’s dragging Michael out of the bar and taking him home. When they get to Michael’s, he tries to go inside, at least hoping to end the night with his boyfriend, but Michael doesn’t let him in, saying Persephone won’t be able to relax with Luke there.
So Luke drives home, sober, confused, and a little hurt.
❖
In the middle of October, after Luke’s made them both a nice dinner and they shared a candle lit bath together, they’re cuddling in bed. They’re at Luke’s place for once, and Michael’s drawing patterns on Luke’s palm. It’s nice, and Luke feels so relaxed. It’s the first time since October began that things feels normal.
In the distance, a wolf howls, and Luke chuckles. With the cool temperature and the trees losing leaves just outside of his window, it all fits. It’s their first autumn together, but it’s nice. Peaceful.
That is, until Michael sits up straight entirely too quickly. He’s nearly naked, only a pair of boxers hugging his hips, and it’s only just above freezing outside, but he’s staring ahead like none of this bothers him. “It’s a full moon.”
“Are you a werewolf now too?” Luke asks sarcastically, making sure to keep his voice quiet so as to not seem too rude.
It doesn’t matter in the end. Michael pays him no mind. “I must go.”
He throws the blanket off of himself and it goes off of Luke a bit. Even with only a tiny bit of his skin exposed to the air, he’s already shivering, yet Michael walks over to the dresser with no outward signs of being cold.
“You’re leaving?” Luke watches as Michael pulls a cloak out of his drawer. “When did you put that in there?”
“My magic makes sure I always have what I need,” he says as way of explanation.
Luke rubs his eyes. It’s not even been the full month, and he’s already so exhausted with this. “Babe, it’s the middle of the night. Come back to bed.”
“But it’s a full moon!” Michael replies, wrapping the fabric around his near-naked body.
“I understand that - ”
“You don’t ,” Michael bites. The harshness to it has Luke leaning back in shock. “You don’t understand. I can’t expect you to, of course, but don’t pretend you do.” He’s mostly been mumbling to himself, something he does all too much of nowadays, but he turns to Luke, hard eyes going soft. “Now, I’ll be back at sunrise. Don’t leave the house.”
Luke rolls his eyes. “Maybe listen to your own advice.”
Michael laughs, only further reminding that this is all a prank Michael’s concocted, and he’s going to extreme lengths for the sake of it. “I promise, things will be easier at the end of the season, but for now you must listen. The full moon is no place for a mortal.”
“I’m not a mortal actually,” Luke replies sardonically, a bitter edge in his tone. “I’m a vampire.” There’s no response, and when Luke looks up, Michael’s gone and the window is wide open. “What the fuck ?”
November can’t come soon enough.
❖
Despite Michael being, perhaps, the weirdest person on Earth, Luke still really likes him, possibly loves him, and is committed to making sure they have a strong, healthy relationship that lasts. He doesn’t bring up the random disappearing in the middle of the night, and instead, decides to put it behind him, which is much more difficult than he thought it’d be.
He goes over to Michael’s a few days later, lunch in hand, ready to surprise his boyfriend. He picked up Michael’s favorite order from the cafe down the block, and they put it in a special, Halloween-themed bag. Luke thought it was sweet and that Michael, with his love of everything spooky, would smile at it.
It’s the middle of the day when Luke arrives, yet nobody answers the door when he knocks. He tries the handle — it’s locked — so he uses his spare key he was given for emergencies.
No, this isn’t an emergency, but Michael’s car is in the driveway, and he never turns away visitors. He might as well call it an emergency if it’ll justify walking into his boyfriend’s house.
Michael’s sitting at the dining table when Luke enters. The cauldron’s been placed on the floor, switched out for rows and rows of papers scattered across the table surface. It seems that Luke doesn’t need any justification for entering as Michael doesn’t even acknowledge him, just continues writing on the paper covered — Luke notices upon walking over to the table — in Latin. Hell, Michael’s writing in Latin.
It seems that on top of trying to convince everyone he’s a witch with his odd wardrobe and intense decorating, he’s gone and learned a dead language. Luke never said Michael wasn’t determined, that’s for certain.
“Michael?” At the sound of Luke’s voice, Michael jumps and looks up at him. His eyes are bloodshot with bags underneath. He looks like he hasn’t slept all night. “I brought you some lunch,” Luke holds up the bag, hoping his smiles doesn’t come off as worried. “What do you say we go on the patio and eat this?”
“I don’t have time.”
“C’mon, Mikey,” Luke sets the bag on the very edge of the table, one of the few spots that doesn’t have papers on it. “Let’s get you out of the house for a little bit. You look like you could use some sunlight.”
He reaches out for Michael’s arm, hoping that the physical contact will help convince him he needs a break, but Michael pulls away harshly. “I can’t. I don’t have time.”
“I’m sure your…” Luke waves his hand, gesturing at the papers and trying not to feel hurt at Michael’s rejection of his touch, “ this can wait a few minutes so you can eat.”
“It can’t .” Michael’s voice is biting, an aggression Luke’s not used to. “I need to finish this by the half moon. If I don’t - ”
Luke’s sick of this. He just wants to spend time with his boyfriend — he’s almost certain he loves this man — but all this ‘witch’ nonsense is coming in the way. He knows they’ve only got a week and a half of the month left, but it’s too much. He can’t wait the month out, not if going along with it means having to put up with it next year and the year after.
He can only take so much before it kills him.
“Michael, knock it off.” It comes out louder than intended, but it works. Michael looks at him, eyes now wide, shock evident on his face. “It was fun at first, but this is going too far.”
“What is?” Michael looks surprised at the anger, timid in a way that shows he doesn’t see why Luke’s so irritated. That he doesn’t see how this game he’s been playing has gotten so heavily on Luke’s nerves.
“This whole ‘witch’ thing,” Luke says. He gestures to the cauldron on the floor and the Latin covered papers on the desk. “The decorations are cute, but not sleeping and refusing to spend time with me because of this bullshit isn’t something I’m alright with.”
“I’m - ” Michael cuts himself, looking at his papers, his forehead creases in. He’s clearly upset, and for a moment, Luke feels bad for his outburst. “I’m sorry if it feels like I’m neglecting you. October is the month my powers - ”
“ Michael .” Just when Luke thought, maybe he had gotten through, Michael insists on keeping his ruse going. “Enough about your powers. You don’t have any powers!”
Michael’s mouth flattens instantly, visibly affronted by Luke’s words. “How dare you say that to me.”
“Oh, did I offend your delicate witchy sensibilities?”
“Actually, you did.” He leans back in seat, crossing his arm. “I’d like for you to apologize now.”
“If I don’t, are you going use one of your Kool-Aid potions to force me to?”
For a moment, Michael’s anger slips. The snarl falls off his face and his tense arms go lax. “I would never do that.” His voice is soft, caring — Luke almost forgets they’re fighting. “Despite your doubt, the potions are quite strong, and I’d never force you to take one.”
The words ‘quite strong’ ring around in Luke’s head. The only time he’s ever heard those words have been at the bar, being told he should slow down because his his drinks were…
“Is it liquor ?” He asks, a mocking laugh coming out before he can stop it. “No worries, Michael. I’ll take them of my own accord!”
He makes his way quickly out of the room, stomping his way to Michael’s room. He ignores the “Luke, wait!” that tries to stop him, instead scanning the wall of Michael’s ‘potions.’ He decides on a soft yellow one, popping the cork out and swallowing it down. Though Michael’s a pretty good cook, he’s shit at mixing drinks.
He’s already finished it off the disgusting concoction when Michael comes in the room, eyes wild.
“Luke, no, you have to throw that up.” Michael comes at him, two fingers stuck out, as if he’s going to make Luke vomit himself.
“Why?” There’s a mocking grin on his face as he backs away from Michael’s advancing figure. “Nothing’s happened. I’m perfectly fine, and you’re perfectly mortal.”
Michael watches him, eyes wide, mouth parted slightly. Luke feels a bit lost as slowly, Michael’s gaze goes down. For some reason, it appears he’s still looking at Luke’s face though.
Suddenly his skin feels tight, and there’s a buzz in his blood that’s almost hot. Whatever he drank is hitting him faster than alcohol usually does.
He goes to ask what’s happening, but he can’t seem to make himself speak. In fact, all that comes out is a meow .
The moment he hears it, he races out of the room, stumbling with his first couple of steps, determined to get to the bathroom quickly. He goes through Michael’s legs and across the hall. He’s much lower to the ground, and it’s disorienting. Whatever Michael had in the flask must’ve been a hallucinogen. He didn’t think his boyfriend was the type to have a flask full of liquid LSD, but he didn’t think he’s the type to turn down a free lunch either.
Luke jumps on the bathroom counter and looks in the mirror. Staring back, instead of a six foot man, is a skinny tabby cat. Luke goes to yell but it comes out as a tortured meow.
His shock is still coursing through him when Michael comes running into the bathroom. “Luke, I’m so sorry. I should’ve showed you my magic sooner, I can’t believe you’d just drink the potion - ” His mouth is running, but all Luke can process is that he drank something, and now he’s a cat. A fucking cat . “I still have to finish my charms tonight!”
Suddenly Luke’s floating. He looks down and sees that it’s Michael picking him up. At first, Luke struggles, needing to keep looking in the mirror to see if this is all really happening to him, but then Michael starts rubbing his head behind his ears, and he all but melts into it.
He’s carried throughout the house and Michael puts Luke on the couch as he passes, and then goes to the table and takes a seat. Luke runs after him and rests at his feet, expecting Michael to do something, to change Luke back, but he goes back to his papers, ignoring him.
Luke meows, trying to gain his attention, but Michael doesn’t look. So Luke uses his claws on Michael’s leg, swiping his paw across the denim hugging his calf.
Michael breathes in through his teeth at the sting of it and his has reaches out to gently push Luke away. “Bad kitty.” Luke hisses at the insult. He’s not a cat. He’s a human, and he needs Michael to turn him back. “I told you not to drink the potion, but you did,” Michael says, scolding Luke. “I need to finish my charms before the half moon, so you’re going to have to wait.”
Luke doesn’t wait patiently, he can’t wait patiently. Something’s happened, something Michael would like him to believe is magic , which is just ridiculous.
There must’ve been something in that drink that’s making him see things — he still hasn’t ruled out a hallucinogen. It’s either that or it’s gone and knocked him out.
That’s the most logical though, actually. If it was liquor, and if it was as strong as Michael warned him it was, then it makes sense to have knocked Luke out, the lightweight that he is. Michael must’ve been watching Luke go down, passing out, and from there, reality blurred with his dream. That has to be it.
There’s no way in hell that Michael’s a witch, having gone and turned Luke into a cat.
Unless, of course, he is . In which case, it’s completely irresponsible of Michael to leave such dangerous potions just lying about. They should be locked up, or at least labelled — something that would have stopped Luke from doing this and ruining his day. Perhaps his life if Michael’s a bad witch and doesn’t know how to reverse the spell.
Charm?
Potion?
This is all Michael’s fault. All he had to do was show Luke a bit of his magic, do something to convince him that this wasn’t all some prank, some joke he took all too seriously. Had Luke believed even a little bit, this all could’ve been avoided, and he wouldn’t be a fucking cat .
He’s livid, of course he is. Michael gave him no explanation, no clue on how long he’s going to be stuck like this, if there will be any side effects. He’s completely in the dark, left to his own devices, wandering around the spooky house, waiting for his magician of a boyfriend to make him human again.
So that he can kick Michael’s ass for letting this happen in the first place.
Maybe he’s being too harsh, perhaps, but at this point, Luke’s not thinking too rationally. Of all of the things he’s thought would happen in his life, he can confidently say that becoming a cat had never crossed his mind. Not even once. The fact that he’s dealing with the reality of it right before his very yellow, very cat eyes, is just insane.
And depressing, really.
For all he knows, he’ll be stuck like this forever, forced to live his life as Persephone’s brother, following her around as clumsily tries to adjust to being a feline. It’s tragic, really.
Feeling mentally exhausted (and physically — being a cat has taken much of his energy), Luke jumps onto Michael’s lap and lies down. He figures if the situation won’t be getting fixed, the least he can do is take a nap as he curls into a ball on his boyfriend’s lap.
Time goes on, and Michael makes no effort at all to fix Luke’s situation. He persists at his work, which Luke learns are apparently charms of Dark magic, and they need to be locked up before the next half moon to diminish their evil presence.
Or something like that. He doesn’t even begin to attempt to try and understand everything Michael’s whispering under his breath, just enjoys Michael petting him, figuring if he has to be a cat as he waits, he may as well enjoy it.
Eventually, Michael sets his work aside, clearing the table of the papers and locking them up for good, and gets to work making a reversal potion. The cauldron reclaims its spot in the center of the round table, and Luke allows himself to get excited, lying next to the pot and watching as Michael talks to himself.
When the potion is done, Michael puts it a tiny little bowl, taking the time to first write “Luke” on it in sharpie, smiling at his own joke while he does it. He’s trying to be cute and Luke’s irritated. Persephone watches on with an air of laughter, and Luke decides then that he hates her.
He drinks from the bowl, cringing with every lick. It’s not much better this time around. If possible, it’s worse.
He turns back slowly, jumping off the counter as his skin starts to feel loser and a chill runs through his veins. When he’s finally human again, the first thing he realizes is his lack of clothing, and he reaches for one of Michael’s cloaks, lying on the back of the couch.
“That’s sacred,” Michael rushes to say, pulling the fabric from Luke’s hands, not caring about his bare skin showing. “I’ll go get your clothes.” He disappears into the bedroom and returns with them in a messy pile in his arms. “I told you not to drink the potion.”
Luke pulls his clothing from Michael’s arms, not caring as some of them fall to the ground. “Pardon me for not listening to your crackpot explanation.”
“ Crackpot ?” Michael’s outrage is clear in his voice, but Luke only rolls his eyes and pulls his underwear and jeans up his legs. “I know I should’ve shown you my magic sooner, but why couldn’t you just believe me?”
“Really?” Luke raises one brow. “You mean if I were to tell you I was a ghost, you’d believe me?”
“You’re pale enough - ”
Luke huffs and rolls his eyes. “Alright then. If I were a vampire, would you believe me?”
“Absolutely,” Michael answers immediately. His face holds an openness to it. “All the vampires I’ve met have been very kind, and you - ”
“Michael, I’m trying to make a point,” he interrupts. Michael bites his lip and gestures for him to continue. “I had no idea the supernatural were real. I thought you were fucking with me.”
“I’ve never lied to you before,” Michael begins to explain, and Luke has to bite his tongue against arguing because, well, he’s right. He was honest about the whole ‘witch’ thing from the very start. He pulls his shirt on to avoid making a comment. “I wouldn’t start with something so - ” Luke’s gasped yell cuts him off. “What’s wrong?”
At the bottom of his spine, his shirt hits something solid and furry. He reaches down slowly with one hand and wraps his fist around -
“A tail,” he all but screams, shock stilling his entire body. “I have a tail .”
Michael peaks around his body and nods before standing straight again. “It’s - ” though his voice is serious, Luke can tell that Michael’s holding back a grin at his expense. “Yeah, that’s going to take a while to go down. It’s an aftermath of the shapeshifter spell.”
“Shapeshifter?”
“Right.” His head tilts, as though just remembering Luke’s new to all this. “The potion you took turns you into whatever animal you’re most similar to.”
“And I’m most like a cat?” he asks.
“It appears so.”
After all of this, Luke’s just ready for the day to be over. The last thing he needed to know is that his soul is that of a cat. No wonder Persephone usually loves him so much — they’re probably old friends from a past life.
Unless…
“Is…” Luke bites his lip, trying to think of how to ask what he wants without offending Michael. “Is Persephone a person?”
Michael laughs, and Luke breathes a sigh of relief. “No, she’s my familiar. She helps me control my powers.”
She’s his familiar… because he’s a witch. The month of October makes his powers stronger, and his familiar helps him control it all.
Because he’s a witch.
“This is a lot,” Luke sighs, feeling his shoulders lose their tension, hunching him forward.
“I’m sorry.”
Luke shakes his head at Michael’s apology. “It’s - it’s not your fault. You were nothing but honest with me. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
“Why would you?” Michael asks, shrugging. There’s an innocent look on his face, something light that feels like a breath of fresh air. “This can get a bit crazy.” A bit unbelievable, Luke doesn’t say. “Are you still mad at me?”
He doesn’t even have to think about it to know he isn’t. He doesn’t know how he could be, not at Michael. He is upset, but that’s moreso because his tail — his tail — is curling around his feet, a constant reminder that he has a fucking tail, because not ten minutes ago, he was a cat !
“No,” he answers Michael question honestly. He fall onto the couch cushion, crossing his arms. “But I want to be.”
“Would it be better if I said you could pretend to be?” Michael offers, smiling something beautiful. Luke bites his lip against a smile.
“Yes…” He agrees, letting himself believe he’s mad at Michael specifically and not just the situation. “Just until the tail goes down.”
“That sounds fair.”
Michael leaves him alone for a bit as he gets to work cleaning up the mess from his potion making. Luke watches as he pour the excess potion in an empty flask, corking it to close it off. He cleans the table, and then disappears into the room to put the potion up his shelf, Luke assumes. When he comes back to the room, he looks at Luke with a smirk.
“How’s the tail?”
Luke looks down to see his tail in his own hand. It appears that without even thinking, he’s been petting it, letting the soft fur rest in his grip. It’s something Michael seems awfully smug about.
“It’s really soft,” Luke answers gently, not letting it go. If he’s already been caught, he may as well let himself enjoy the feel. It’ll be gone soon.
Hopefully.
“Can I touch it?” Michael asks, stepping closer. Luke grips it tighter and holds it close to his chest.
“No.”
With everything he’s been through, he feels a bit grumpy and finds himself glaring at Michael. It may be because he’s tired, or it could be that he feels unusually protective about the tail. Whatever the reason, Michael finds it funny and begins laughing.
“It knew what it was doing making you a cat,” he says offhandedly, falling onto the couch. Luke glares at him, not even wanting to know what he means by his comment.
Instinctively, no matter how angry he’s pretending to be, he curls into Michael. A lot has happened and he just wants to feel close to somebody. “Don’t say a thing,” he bites when Michael starts chuckling.
His tail doesn’t go down until the middle of the night, long after both he and Michael went to bed, wrapped around each other. Luke’s long forgiven Michael, and is just enjoying the whole mess being done with.
❖
Now that Luke has a better understanding of Michael, now that he knows this isn’t all just some joke, the month goes by easier. Sure there are some odd moments that make Luke want to tear his hair out, but at least Michael’s not asking for the loose strands anymore.
There has to be a positive in that somewhere.
When the end of October comes, Luke decides to help Michael finish sorting his potions and packing everything up. He hopes that some of the trinkets he puts away will give him some semblance of an understanding as to what he’s about.
They’re currently sorting the shelved potions, and Luke discovers that Michael actually does label them. Only, it’s in Latin, which isn’t helpful to Luke in the least. Persephone is in the box at their feet, curling around the empty flasks. According to Michael, when October is over she gets a little depressed, so this is her, getting her last of the holiday season. Luke refuses to find it adorable until Persephone lets him pet her again.
As they’re clearing off the shelves, Luke comes across something interesting. There’s a thick, pink concoction in a rounded flask, and the label isn’t in Latin. It just says ‘Luke,’ written in neat, loopy letters.
“What’s this then?”
Michael looks up from where he’s making room in the box and his white skin turns red insanely quickly. Even when they were still dancing around each other flirting, long before they started dating, Michael had never blushed that deeply.
“It’s the protection spell I put on you,” he explains, voice shakier than usual. “It keeps dark power away from you so long as it’s got color.”
The color of the flask is an intense, bright pink, very vividly colored, so Luke assumes it’s still a strong spell. “It looks like it’s still lasting.” Michael nods, but he looks moments away from being sick. “Why are you blushing then?”
“Well,” he clears his throat, and though it seems impossible, his skin turns pinker. “You see, the color of the potion reveals the witches true feelings about the person they’re protecting.” He points to the shelf Luke pulled the potion from and sees ‘Calum’ and ‘Ashton’ amongst other names, all sitting in a line, each of them a deep, sparkling blue.
Luke looks back to the one in his hand and smirks. “What’s pink then?”
“We don’t - ” Michael laughs, but it’s forced and awkward. Luke smiles even bigger. “It’s not important. Tomorrow’s November anyways.”
“What’s pink, Michael?”
Michael looks down, and Persephone is looking at them both with knowing eyes. Hand on the back of his blushing neck, Michael mumbles, “It’s love.”
Michael seems uncomfortable, but Luke grins instantly, the words affirming what he’d been hoping for. His heart feels so light, he thinks he could start levitating right there.
“I love you too.”
❖
When October ends and November starts anew, it feels just as magical as ever, maybe even more. He’s been turned into a cat and seen the process of making transformative potions, but nothing has felt as extraordinary as being in love does.