#magicau

“David?” Ronnie called. She was installing shelving in the backroom now that they had the money to splurge on a few things. David was perfectly content to continue stacking their paperwork along the wall, but Patrick had wanted a more visible filing system from day one. 

“Hum?” he asked, glancing up from his phone.

“This wiring is a safety hazard,” she said, peering into the wall. “To be honest, I’m surprised they’re even running.” David shrugged, Patrick was good at fixing things. “Can you get the other bulb there?” she asked, gesturing with the end of her level. 

David reached up to unscrew the light, a familiar current rushing through his fingertips. It felt like cocoa powder on his tongue, warm air curling over his skin, the sun catching the angle of his jaw just right. There was a steady thrum of energy keeping the bulbs running, but it wasn’t electricity. It was magic. He had thought the store felt like home from the start. He hadn’t realized Patrick was a witch too.

“Are you spying on Ted again?” David asked, leaning over Alexis’ shoulder. He had come out of the bathroom to find her sitting on her bed. Supposedly, she was doing her makeup, but she hadn’t moved for nearly three minutes. 

“Oh my god, personal space, David,” Alexis said, snapping her compact shut. The last time she had been scrying something that intently, it had been a followup to the bunny webcam incident. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m checking on the animals,” Alexis said, “Twyla found two baby kittens in the dumpster behind the cafe and they have to sit in these sad little cages all day waiting for someone to buy them.”

“Mmhm, and you just happened to check up on them when you knew Ted would be getting back from his run?” He asked, moving to his closet.

“Okay, it’s not my fault if that’s when I have time,” Alexis said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I have a very full schedule today.” David snorted.

He flicked through his sweaters, “Did you know Patrick has magic?”

“Um, yes, obviously, David,” Alexis said without glancing up from her phone.

“Uh, excuse you,” David said, holding up a Rick Owens for consideration, before deciding against it. “What do you mean, obviously?” 

“We talk witchy things literally all the time,” Alexis said. She waved her hand in his direction, “He uses little hedge spells to keep your clothes from getting all wrinkly and your hair from looking sad.” Alexis tilted her head and scrunched up her nose. “You can’t feel them?”

David slid on a Gavinchey piece and bent down to tie his high-tops. When he stood up, Alexis was about two inches from his face. 

“Um, now who doesn’t understand personal space?” David asked, rearing back as she slid her fingers along his hairline.

“Shush, David,” Alexis said, going almost cross eyed as she focused on a spot near his temple, “and hold still.” 

The Roses didn’t practice witchcraft so much as they lived it. Their mother’s idea of a magical education had been warning him to keep Alexis out of faerie circles while they explored the grounds, lest they bring malevolent energies into her homestead. It had been up to them to study what they found relevant to their craft. As a result, Alexis was unusually good at picking apart the intention behind a casting. She slid her thumbs across his cheekbones.

“Oh my god, David, he put a focus charm in your under eye serum,” Alexis said, grinning as she stepped back, “he is so into you.” 

“Just because he did one moderately invasive thing, does not mean that he’s into me,” David said, arranging his rings for the day. 

“Mmm, okay, you’re so wrong,” Alexis said, “ask him to come foraging with us tomorrow then.” 

David grimaced, glancing away, “about that.”

“Do not tell me you forgot again, uuugh. No, David, I am not going alone. The woods are so creepy in the morning.” She rummaged around in her bag handing him a pair of cinnamon sticks wrapped in twine, “here, I was going to use this tonight, but it seems like you need it more.” David tucked the courage charm in his pocket; that was uncharacteristically unselfish of her. 

“Patrick is good at carrying things and that way you’ll have to come.” David sighed, grabbing his bag and heading to work. “David, David!” she called from the doorway, “the woods, David, ask Patrick.” 

“Walk into traffic,” David yelled back.

David hadn’t always gotten along with other witches. Especially not methodical, practicing ones like Patrick. He could see it now that he knew where to look, the ritual in Patrick’s movements. The organization and dedication to order. He watched Patrick spritz the basil plants in the window, murmuring to them softly.

“I’m going foraging tomorrow morning,” David said, words spilling out of his mouth before he could think them through. “It’s a good time of year to harvest around here if you want to come.” 

Patrick looked up from the plants, grinning, “I’d like that.” The bell chimed over the door before they could talk more, a wave of customers pouring in. They had a pretty steady number of them until mid afternoon.

“Why am I doing this again?” Patrick asked, wiping the brush on the inside of the bottle. They were standing on opposite sides of the counter. David had complained about how difficult it was to paint his dominant hand and Patrick had offered his assistance.

“Because it requires a steady hand,” David said, taking another sip of his coffee, “and this makes me jittery.”

“Well, in that case, maybe I should stop bringing you one after lunch,” Patrick said, grinning. He moved on to David’s pointer finger, covering the nail in black polish with even strokes.

“That seems like a bit of an overreaction, when we have a simple solution to the problem right here,” David said, gesturing to his nails with the hand he was supposed to be letting dry. Patrick’s fingers darted out to wrap around his wrist, carefully lowering it back to the counter.

“If you smudge them, I’m not redoing it,” he said, glancing up to meet David’s eyes. 

“Okay, well how am I supposed to drink my coffee, then?” David asked, shrugging with both of his hands flat on the counter. It was a very strange feeling. 

Patrick rolled his eyes, picking up David’s coffee and tilting it toward him, “there, drink.”

David nodded to his sweater, “Okay, but this is Gavinchey so-”

“Just drink the coffee, David,” Patrick said, laughing, “I’m not going to spill on your sweater.” David leaned forward, taking a sip. He could taste the magic in it now. The warmth of the cocoa powder rushed through him. 

“I’ve never thanked you for this,” David said, nodding at the coffee, “keeping it warm.” Patrick grinned, ducking his head as he moved to the next nail. 

“You don’t have to thank me, David,” he said. “Honestly, it’s mostly automatic by now.” David bit his lip to keep from smiling. “You, uh, you looked so disappointed on opening night when it got cold, so I charmed it the next day, and the one after that, and I guess I never really stopped.”

“I don’t remember that,” David said. They’d had a constant stream of customers from the time they opened the doors til a few minutes after they were supposed to close. “We were so busy the day of the opening, how did you even have time to notice?” Patrick shrugged, capping the nail polish and setting it off to the side.

“I always notice you, David,” he said, glancing up to meet his eyes. Patrick was right there, eyes darting towards David’s mouth.

“Someone said I’m not supposed to move my hands,” David said, tapping his fingers against the counter. The cinnamon sticks were warm in his pocket; he could be brave, “so if you want to kiss me you’re going to have to make the first move.” 

Patrick’s hand reached out to cup his jaw. He leaned in, closing the distance between them. David was pretty sure nothing was ever going to feel more magical than this, kissing Patrick in the middle of the store they had built together.  

                                     *                     *                       *

“Turn,” David said, making a circling motion in the air. Alexis raised a brow, eyeing the charm in his hands. “Oh my god, Alexis,” He repeated the gesture with greater emphasis, “just turn around.” Alexis rolled her eyes, but did as he asked.

“I’m not going to wander off, sheesh, David,” she said as he wove a well worn ribbon through her braid. Small silver bells dangled between the strands. He secured the top with a citrine hair pin.

“Mkay, that’s what you said at Yellowstone,” he said, tying off the end. “I ended up having to call for a park ranger because you were lost in the woods for two and a half hours.”

“I was five, David,” she said, twisting in the mirror to admire the adornments. “I know better than to play with the fae now.”

“Do you?” Patrick asked, mouth quirking up as he met David’s eyes over her shoulder. 

“Ugh, yes, Patrick,” she said, moving to dig the brown bag their mother had given her out of the closet. David snagged his eyeliner from her makeup bag while she wasn’t looking. It kept ending up there, although Alexis claimed she had no idea how. Patrick followed him to the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

“Can I help you?” David asked, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed. Patrick grinned.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could help you,” he said. “I thought you might need a steady hand for that.” He nodded towards the eyeliner pencil. 

“Did you?” David asked. He held it out, gesturing at his face, “by all means.” 

Patrick reached out to cup David’s jaw, tilting his head. Patrick took a step forward, studying David’s face. His eyes were dark in the low light from the window, honey brown turned light whiskey. He laughed softly.

“Look up,” he said, lifting the pencil. Oh, right. Patrick drew it over his waterline with even strokes. “Close your eyes, David.” 

David slid them closed. He felt the edge of Patrick’s hand brush over his cheekbone and then there was gentle pressure along his lash line. Every other time he’d had someone do this they’d stabbed him with it, but Patrick’s hand glided over his other eye without incident. 

“There,” he said softly, “you can open your eyes now.” David blinked them open, Patrick was inches from his face. “David,” Patrick said, thumb sliding down his cheek. 

He wasn’t sure who moved, but one second Patrick’s gaze had drifted to his mouth and the next David could taste the mint on his tongue. Patrick’s hands found their way around his waist. David pressed closed, bringing one hand up to rest on his shoulder, the other twining through the short curls at the back of his neck. Patrick brushed a chaste kiss to his lips as he pulled away. 

“You look nice,” Patrick said, squeezing his hips lightly.

David was wearing head to toe Rick Owens . This was a sweater he chose often for foraging; the exaggerated hood made a convenient pocket to carry mushrooms or leaves back to his bag. The skirted pants were mostly for aesthetic purposes, but they were also comfortable over long distances. He had a pair of boots somewhere, probably in Alexis’ closet, that laced halfway up his shin and were particularly good for walking through the underbrush. 

More traditional witches had called it sacrilege, the way he and Alexis intermingled their crystals and herbs with designer pieces. But their mother had always believed that one's connection to magic was their own. She had taught them not to mind the opinions of others when it came to honoring their craft.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to tell you when I got here,” Patrick said, “you know, with Alexis around.” 

David flinched, stomach sinking. His hands went cold where they rest on Patrick’s shoulders. Of course Patrick wouldn’t want people to know they had kissed. He thought he contained his expression well enough, but Patrick caught it. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. David had to step away, turning back to the mirror to fiddle with his hair. He had thought being the dirty little secret was behind him, but he really liked Patrick. If this was what it took to be with him, so be it.

“Mmm, fine,” David managed. He watched Patrick’s reflection out of the corner of his eye. A small, worried line formed between his brows. 

“I’m sorry if I said or did something upset you,” he started, but David cut him off.

“It’s fine, Patrick,” he sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. His eyeliner had turned out really fucking good. He kind of hated it right now. “If you don’t want people to know, that’s. It’s fine, okay?” Patrick’s mouth turned down, eyes going wide and sad.

“David, no,” he said, hand coming to rest on David’s elbow. “I just didn’t know how much you had told her and I know Alexis gets under your skin sometimes. I was trying to respect your privacy.” As David’s expression softened, Patrick grew more teasing. “We can tell the whole town if you want. I’ll go ask Stevie to get the word out right now.” He moved towards the door and David sighed with fond exasperation, looping his arms around Patrick’s neck.

“Mmm, I don’t think we need to resort to such extremes just yet,” David said. Patrick grinned, running his hands along David’s sides as he leaned in. David melted into the kiss, relief flooding him. Patrick wanted this, wanted him.

“David?” Patrick asked tentatively, grabbing the eyeliner off the sink. “Will you do mine?” David looked him over, woolen socks, denim jeans, loose cotton shirt. It was more modern than some, but still traditional, a selection of natural fibers. 

“Why would you,” David trailed off. 

“It’s part of your ritual, isn’t it, yours and Alexis’?” Patrick looked David over like he was something worthy of admiration. “I want to be a part of that, David.” 

“Oh,” David breathed, “well, look up, then.” He took the pencil and drew it across his lower lashes. Patrick’s eyes fell closed and he repeated the motion on the upper ones. 

“Thank you, David.” Patrick leaned in to kiss him once he had finished.

“Mmm, well, don’t thank me yet,” David said, “you haven’t even seen it.”