Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jeongguk takes one of the last seats on the last bus of the night, rain pouring outside, when he begins to feel a familiar tingle in his toes.

He freezes; body halfway out of his seat, but it’s too late already. The bus pulls away from the curb as Jeongguk’s feet begin to go numb, and he falls back against the uncomfortable cushion. The lights are blurred in the heavy rain, the driver taking caution as he continues on the route, and Jeongguk nearly whimpers as the feeling of pins and needles races up his calves.

There are too many witnesses on the bus, too many people to see when Jeongguk inevitable exposes himself. Again. It’ll be the third time this month, and the police will call his aunt, and she’ll tell him- gently, always so painfully gently- that maybe this wasn’t the right choice. Maybe they should go back to Busan, or a smaller town, or maybe even leave-

Jeongguk bites back a curse as his stomach twists unpleasantly, curling in on himself. The woman in the seat across sends him a curious look, and Jeongguk almost laughs at himself. He must look a wreck, exhausted from staying late at the library to study, soaked from waiting out in the rain for the bus, and now he was freezing as his anxiety kicked up, as the threat became more and more real as his fingers began to twitch where he’d shoved them between his legs to keep them out of sight. She probably considers him no threat, and fuck, how Jeongguk wished she were right.

She’ll probably be the first one to call the police, the first one to demand the bus driver stop and kick Jeongguk off. He should just leave now, press the button and let the bus stop halfway to the next stop, twenty minutes to the apartment, except-

Except he can’t feel his legs, and his arms are limp at his sides. If he tries to run now, he won’t even get out of his seat. The cops will take him back to his aunt, she’ll tell Jeongguk it’s okay, but he knows it’s not. He knows what people think about people like him, knows that this is his last chance. He begged to go to university, promised he could keep it under control, and now he’s about to ruin everything.

Jeongguk coughs and tastes blood, something burning in his chest for an unbearable moment before everything stops. The pain disappears, leaving cold in its place. His nausea dissipates, sweat cooling on his brow, and Jeongguk sags bag in his seat, eyes screwed closed.

He takes a long few minutes to catch his breath, wincing as something aches a bit when he moves. Sometimes, they were painless. Sometimes, Jeongguk passed out in alleyways from the pain. He’s just thankful that this one didn’t knock him unconscious.

Jeongguk hesitantly opens his eyes, staring at his reflection in the soaked window-

And sees the face of the woman sitting one row in front of him.

He remembers her, catching sight of her face as he’d huddled into his own chair. She was pretty, with long dark hair and tired eyes, and now Jeongguk looked exactly like her. Stupidly, he looks down, because when this had first started happening years ago, sometimes only Jeongguk’s face would change, but that hadn’t been the case in almost a decade. Nope, Jeongguk looks down and sees shorter, thinner legs. Wriggles his feet and feels too much empty space inside his own shoes, shifts a little and knows his entire body has changed to match hers.

The only thing that never changes are his clothes, and Jeongguk is thankful that he kept his own oversized hoodie instead of her tight jacket. With shorter arms and legs, he can tug the fabric over his hands, the hood over his head, and huddle against the window, and hope beyond all else that she’ll get off at the next stop.

She doesn’t, and Jeongguk lets out a quiet sigh against the window. It’s almost impossible to see against all of the rain, but he can tell by memory that there are still four stops until the one closest to his home. The longer he stays close to whoever he transforms into, the longer he’ll stay in their form. But he’s exhausted from the change and he’s still cold from the rain that at this point he’d rather stay in her body for the rest of the night than catch a cold walking home from here.

Two stops later and the girl leaves. Jeongguk makes sure to keep his hood over his face until he’s sure she’s too far away to notice. He can’t bring himself to relax, though, even though no one else on the bus has caught wind of what was going on, or made a move to call the cops, or started screaming. Jeongguk hates the screaming.

“Excuse me,” a voice says, as the bus stops where Jeongguk can finally get off. He’s grabbing his backpack, distracted, and makes the mistake of looking up and making eye contact. “I knew it.”

Jeongguk freezes, staring directly at the man standing behind him. He was bundled for the cold, a fluffy scarf around his neck and a beanie pulled low enough that Jeongguk only sees his faded, blond fringe. In this body Jeongguk is shorter, and he’s staring up at the man in absolute horror.

And all that comes to mind?

“Fuck.”

Jeongguk tears off down the bus, his ankles threatening to collapse as he tries to run in shoes at least five sizes too large. He still throws a quick thanks over his shoulder to the bus driver, who does a double take because Jeongguk was an idiot and just thanked him ten minutes after the same face did the same thing. Jeongguk just focuses on running and trying not to break his damn ankles.

When he’s a few blocks away, Jeongguk stops to catch his breath. This body was out of shape and his feet were already aching, clothes drenched again from the rain. He looks around, grateful when he doesn’t see the man who’d caught him. He’d looked mean. And important. Maybe he was another one of the doctors who wanted to do experiments.

Jeongguk shudders, and this time it has nothing to do with the rain.

“Wait up!”

He flinches; a clap of thunder echoing in the nearby distance, and then lightning strikes close enough to illuminate the street- and the shape of the man following him.

“Stay away from me!” Jeongguk shouts back. “Come any closer and I’ll hurt you!”

The man ignores him, moving closer until Jeongguk can recognize him from the bus. He must have been sitting somewhere behind Jeongguk, aware enough to see Jeongguk get on and then try to leave looking entirely like someone else.

“Calm down,” The man says. As he approaches, he keeps his hands up where Jeongguk can see them. “I’m not here to hurt you. I won’t even call the police.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “I’ve heard that one before, thanks. Please just go. I’ll burn you if you come any closer.”

“Ah, but that’s not your magic. Is it?”

Jeongguk freezes, peeking out from beneath his hood. The rain hasn’t let up, and he envies this guy’s warm coat and scarf. Slowly, Jeongguk takes a step back. The man mirrors him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeongguk says, taking care to keep his voice steady and slow. “Leave me alone, or I’ll call the cops.”

“You don’t want to do that.” He steps a little closer, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He shows Jeongguk his student ID, an ID card from the same university Jeongguk attends. His heart sinks. If someone from school knows about him- “My name is Namjoon, I just want to help you.”

This time, Jeongguk snorts. “I’ve heard that one before, too. People like you don’t want to help.”

Namjoon tilts his head, and a minute later another flash of lightning exposes his amused expression. “People like me?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, waving his hand in Namjoon’s general direction. “People like you claim they want to help, then we have to move again to get away from you. Just leave me alone.”

Jeongguk turns on his heel and nearly trips, cursing this woman’s tiny feet. He’s only a couple blocks from home. He can get there, hopefully his aunt will already be asleep, and he can start the process of applying to a new school for next semester before she finds out about this.

Behind him, Namjoon calls out, “I can help you control it.”

“No,” Jeongguk says quietly. “No, you can’t.”

“Well, maybe not me,” Namjoon amends. “But someone I know. I won’t know for sure until I know the nature of your magic-”

“No.” Jeongguk repeats, turning around to glare at Namjoon. “I’ve had enough of you people lying-”

Namjoon closes his palms together, breathes out slowly, and when he opens his hands several red roses are growing where previously there was nothing.

Jeongguk chokes on whatever he’d been saying, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Namjoon’s hands. Namjoon gathers the roses into one bundle, holding them out for Jeongguk. He doesn’t take them, and Namjoon doesn’t force him to.

“I know it’s overwhelming and terrifying,” Namjoon says, laughing quietly. “I can help you. Don’t you want to stop being so scared?”

Yes, Jeongguk wants to say. Yes, of course he wants to stop being scared, wants to stop putting his aunt at risk. Of course he wants to stop looking over his shoulder every time he leaves the house.

“I don’t trust you,” is what Jeongguk says instead.

“That’s fair,” Namjoon laughs again. “Look, just-” Namjoon fishes a pen out of his pocket and then fumbles around to find something to write on, eventually locating a receipt from a convenience store. He writes as he speaks. “Come by on Monday, whenever you’re free. We can help. And if you decide you don’t want it, you walk away. I won’t tell anyone about you and neither will any of my friends. Okay?”

Jeongguk takes the receipt, some of the lettering already beginning to smudge in the relentless rain. He can barely make out an address; a longer bus ride from campus than Jeongguk’s, but whatever else had been written there was already washing away. Jeongguk stuffs it in his pocket and decides to forget about it. If he hasn’t seen Namjoon around campus until now, he probably won’t see him after this. If, for some reason, Namjoon doesn’t stick to his promise, Jeongguk will just transfer schools.

“Okay,” Jeongguk says, because in the silence it feels like Namjoon is waiting for something.

“Okay,” Namjoon agrees, smiling widely. “Come for dinner, if you’re free. It’s Yoongi’s turn to cook and he always buys extra meat.”

“Um. Okay.” Jeongguk blinks, waits for a second. “I’m not a girl.”

In the glow of another flash of lightning Namjoon looks confused. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine? I mean, I saw you get on the bus before you changed-”

“Right,” Jeongguk says, feeling his cheeks go warm even in the cool evening. “I just. In case you didn’t like that-”

“I have no problem with girls,” Namjoon says, laughing gently. “Or boys, for that matter. Well, a few boys. Significantly fewer boys than girls, considering the kind of boys you’ll find in university, but that’s not the point. We’ll expect you for Monday, yeah? You have my number.”

Jeongguk doesn’t have the heart to tell Namjoon the number already washed off the receipt. It’ll be a miracle if Jeongguk can read the address when he gets home. “Yeah, okay. Sure. See you then, I guess.”

“It was nice meeting you, uh.”

“Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk. See you Monday.”

Namjoon turns and walks back the way of the bus stop, and Jeongguk waits until he’s truly gone and out of sight before he heads home. The rain absolutely refuses to let up, and Jeongguk cringes at the feeling of long, wet hair on the back of his neck. As soon as the apartment complex comes into sight, Jeongguk feels those familiar pins and needles race down his arms and legs, his limbs shifting and growing until he filled out his pants, shirt, and shoes properly.

In the lobby, Jeongguk glances at the mirror and sighs in relief when he sees his own face staring back at him. His aunt was used to him returning home looking like anyone he might’ve passed on the streets, but he still preferred when he came home as himself. The elevator is slow and creaky, but finally Jeongguk drops his backpack on the floor in the entryway.

“Jeongguk?”

“M’Home,” Jeongguk calls back, finding his aunt in the kitchen. She was drying a few dishes. “Sorry. Studying ran long.”

“Call me next time, okay? I know you said you want to study extra hard this year, but I was worried.”

“Of course.” Jeongguk toes off his shoes, coming up behind her to wrap his aunt in a wet hug. She lets out a shout of complaint, elbowing Jeongguk lightly in the side until they were both laughing. “Sorry, auntie. I didn’t mean to be late.”

She ruffles his wet hair, smiling at him. Jeongguk sees his mother in her eyes, sees himself in her nose. “Not a problem, Jeongguk. There’s dinner for you in the fridge. Go shower and change into dry clothes and we’ll watch the next episode of Good Omens, okay?”

Jeongguk grins, hiding it in her shoulder. She’s tinier than he is and it brings him immeasurable joy. “Sounds good.”

After showering quickly, Jeongguk tosses his clothes to be washed and belatedly remembers the address. The paper is mostly torn and smudged, and Namjoon’s phone number was completely illegible, but Jeongguk could still make out the address.

His aunt calls him from the living room and Jeongguk sticks the paper on his dresser. If he remembers, so be it.

Standing outside a really nice apartment door, Jeongguk contemplates turning on his heel and leaving. Namjoon would never know that he stood there for twenty minutes, trying to work up the courage to knock. He can forget this ever happened, and go back to trying to hide his ability and not be the reason why his aunt has to move again.

He wants to leave, but-

He can’t stop thinking about what Namjoon said that night, shouting over the downpour. That he knew someone who could help Jeongguk control this- this stupid magic that coursed through his veins. And truthfully, Jeongguk was tired. He was tired of missing class because he accidentally changed into the form of someone he shared the course with, or walking home from university because he couldn’t risk the bus, looking over his shoulder the entire time because Jeongguk could never be certain that no one was following him.

Maybe Namjoon can’t help him, but that underlying what if is what finally pushes Jeongguk to knock, breath held tightly in his lungs.

Namjoon doesn’t answer the door, but someone about Jeongguk’s height opens it, maybe a centimeter taller, with one of the most gorgeously intimidating faces Jeongguk has ever seen.

“Yeah?”

“I-I’m looking for Namjoon?”

Immediately, the boy’s entire face changes, his expression lighting up. “You must be Jeongguk! Oh, you’re adorable. Come inside, Namjoon’s just helping Yoongi with dinner. Seokjin had to run to the store because Hoseok couldn’t find the right vegetable, so we’re a little behind.”

The boy ushers Jeongguk inside, still speaking about something, but Jeongguk’s head was reeling from all the names, and despite the boy’s warm demeanor, Jeongguk feels trapped and a little terrified and quietly considers ducking under the boy’s arm and running away.

“Taehyung, stop scaring him.” Namjoon scolds; looking away from the vegetables he’s chopping. “Jeongguk, welcome. Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m okay,” Jeongguk says.

Taehyung points to where Jeongguk can put his shoes and takes his coat, wrapping a hand around Jeongguk’s wrist to pull him to the couch. It’s worn and soft, a faded fabric, and Taehyung crosses his legs beneath himself to stare expectantly at Jeongguk.

“So,” Taehyung says, when it becomes clear Jeongguk isn’t going to make the first move. “You can’t control your magic?”

Jeongguk makes to reply, but a sudden pain beginning in his feet and racing up his entire body makes him stop, a noise of pain slipping from his lips. A minute later, his legs feel longer than the rest of his body, and the hair that falls before his eyes is a soft blond, instead of Jeongguk’s usual black.

“Oh!” Taehyung’s face lights up. “You’re me!”

“I’m so sorry,” Jeongguk blurts. He scrambles for his phone and nearly drops it; his fingers are so long, what the fuck? He pulls open his front camera, and sees Taehyung’s face staring back at him. “Fuck. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Taehyung waves him away. “Why are you apologizing? When I first showed my magic, it snowed in July.”

“You- what?”

“Taehyung has an affinity for weather,” Namjoon explains, offering Jeongguk a bottle of water as he enters the room. Jeongguk wants to ask how Namjoon can be sure he's himself, but he supposes his mannerisms remain the same. “That storm the other day was thanks to him.”

“I apologized!” Taehyung whines. He rolls his eyes, looking back at Jeongguk. “I was watching Haikyuu!! okay?”

“I like Haikyuu!!”

“Great! We’re keeping you.” Taehyung grins sharply. “Here, sit like me. Copy me, yeah just like that. Yoongi! Hyung, come here!”

Yoongi, smaller than Jeongguk, walks away from the stove. His fading brown hair was kept out of his eyes by a black headband. “This better not be another picture of a cat you think looks like me.”

“They always look like you,” Taehyung says, before Yoongi enters the room and glances at Jeongguk, and then at Taehyung, and says, “Nope. Not again, fuck you Hobi.”

Taehyung giggles. “Hoseok hyung’s not here, Yoongi.”

Yoongi looks at Jeongguk like he’s trying to see through him. Then he points at Taehyung. “You’re the boyfriend.”

“Aw,” Taehyung pouts, his shoulders deflating. “How’d you know?”

“The clothes,” Yoongi says with a shrug. “You must be Jeongguk.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about this, Namjoon helped a girl with fire magic a few months ago who lit all my curtains on fire. You’re already exponentially better than she was.” Yoongi offers him a smile before returning to the kitchen and to Namjoon, who was apparently over-salting something.

Jeongguk drinks half the bottle of water as Taehyung sends a few quick texts, the atmosphere light as soft music plays from speakers set up near the TV. There is warm familiarity in the air, and Jeongguk quickly comes to realize this must be more than a few witches come together to help others control erratic magic. He feels out of place, especially because Taehyung’s legs were so stupidly long that Jeongguk’s ankles stuck out from his pants.

Finally, when it becomes clear Jeongguk isn’t going to change back anytime soon, he nudges Taehyung. “Do you guys do this a lot?”

“Do what?” Taehyung asks, scrolling through pictures of cats. “Oh, you mean help others? I guess. Namjoon likes to do it more than the rest of us, but we won’t turn anyone away who can’t control themselves. The last thing we’d want is for someone to reach out for us, and then get hurt or in trouble if we don’t help. Is this all you can do?”

“Isn’t this enough?” Jeongguk asks, unable to keep the bite from his tone.

Taehyung just laughs. “Some people have more than one ability. Especially if they’re born to parents who both come from magical families.”

“I don’t come from magic.”

At that, Taehyung frowns. “Really? Full body shifts, even accidental ones, are rare for people born from mortals. Namjoon probably knows more about it than me, though.”

The door slams open then, and two more young men walk in, bickering about the trivial differences between two separate types of lettuce, both walking right to the kitchen to distribute whatever groceries they’d bought. Taehyung calls for one of them, yelling Hoseok hyung come here!, and a boy with red hair and a bright smile excuses himself.

“What’s up, Tae?”

Hoseok looks between Taehyung and Jeongguk, and Jeongguk blinks as another Taehyung stands in front of both of them.

“Oh!” Jeongguk stands up, wobbling a bit because he still wasn’t used to Taehyung’s body. “You’re a shifter, too!”

Hoseok laughs, and after another heartbeat, he’s back to normal. “That I am. My name is Hoseok.”

“I’ve never met another shifter,” Jeongguk says shyly, holding out his hand to shake Hoseok’s.

“We’re actually a lot more common than you might think,” Hoseok says with a wink. “You just don’t know when you’ve met one of us.”

Namjoon calls Hoseok back over to finish preparing dinner while Seokjin starts setting the table. With everyone moving around each other, the apartment felt cramped, but it was still a lot bigger than what Jeongguk shared with his aunt. Enough room for all of them to sit at the table, passing dishes around, and Namjoon takes the liberty of introducing Jeongguk to Seokjin, who shared the apartment with Yoongi. Namjoon and Hoseok lived nearby, and Taehyung lived closer to campus with someone named Jimin.

“Have you been in Seoul long?” Seokjin asks, piling Jeongguk’s plate with meat.

“About a year,” Jeongguk says. “I, uh, waited a bit before starting university.”

“Oh, me too.” Taehyung says. “My magic got all weird when I left Daegu, and I couldn’t go a day without creating rain or snow. Not exactly the best way to start school.”

Jeongguk pokes at his plate with his chopsticks. “Are all of you guys witches?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Technically, Jimin is the only true witch. You saw my magic, and Taehyung can control the weather. Hoseok is a shifter, Yoongi has invisibility magic, and Seokjin can see the specific past of something when he touches it.”

Jeongguk stiffens. “The exact past?”

“Only of an object,” Seokjin says carefully. “Not anything else.”

“Nowadays,” Namjoon continues. “Only those born to one or two pure witch families are truly considered witches, but the term has muddled a bit in modern times so you won’t offend anyone by using it.”

“Jimin’s an elemental,” Taehyung says, stealing some meat from Jeongguk’s plate. “He’s one of the few with control of all four elements, though. Most people just have an affinity for one, maybe two.”

“Okay,” Jeongguk says. It’s a little overwhelming, Jeongguk thinks, as he sits between Yoongi and Taehyung. Sometimes, when Yoongi reaches to give more vegetables to Taehyung, his hand and fingers disappear for such a brief instance that Jeongguk can’t be sure it’s real. The plants around the apartment are lush and thriving, and Jeongguk wonders if that’s because of Namjoon’s magic or if Yoongi and Seokjin are just really good at maintaining plants.

Conversation stalls a little as Jeongguk clams up a bit. He can’t remember the last time he was surrounded by so many people, and he’s worried that they’ll deem him a lost cause, or decide they don’t actually want to go through the trouble of helping him when there’s no guarantee Jeongguk will ever have control.

Soon, Jeongguk feels the same pain in his limbs, and his chopsticks clatter to his plate as his hand shifts and changes, fingers becoming shorter as Jeongguk changes back into himself. He breathes a sigh of relief, even as Taehyung looks incredibly disappointed.

“You have no control over how long you shift for?” Namjoon asks, a frown on his lips.

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Sometimes it’s only for a few minutes, but once I shifted into my aunt and stayed that way for four days. It was pretty terrifying.”

“How long did you stay in that woman’s form the other night?”

“Just until I got to my apartment,” Jeongguk says.

“Okay,” Namjoon says. After a pause, he piles some more meat on Jeongguk’s plate, encouraging him to eat more.

Jeongguk always feels a little weary, a little sick, after transforming, but he eats more as the others encourage him to do so. He feels terribly out of place as everyone discusses their plans for the week, poking the cabbage leftover on his plate as he wills himself to stay in his own body for the rest of the night. Tomorrow he has to meet with a group for a project for class, and the last thing he wants is to cancel.

“Jeongguk,” Namjoon says as everyone begins to clean up. “Come with me?”

He leads Jeongguk back to the couch, where they sit. Behind him, Jeongguk can hear Taehyung trying to bargain his way out of doing the dishes by promising to bring a lightning storm to get Hoseok out of an exam. It doesn’t work.

“What’s up, Namjoon-ssi?”

“Oh, you can call me hyung. I just thought we should talk away from the others for a bit.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk watches as Namjoon grows a sunflower in his palm. “So, you think you can help me?”

Namjoon looks a little guilty. “If I’m being honest, I don’t think I’m the best person for you to learn from. Taehyung is still learning control from Yoongi, and Seokjin can only see what certain objects want him to see.”

Jeongguk’s stomach twists, and his eyes inexplicably sting with the urge to cry. He knew it was a long shot, but he really managed to get his hopes up over the weekend, believing that maybe someone truly wanted to help him get better. Without control, Jeongguk constantly runs the risk of being discovered. And if he’s discovered at his age, his only options are to be locked up or drugged up until his body loses any strength to transform.

“I understand,” Jeongguk says thickly, interrupting whatever Namjoon had been saying. Jeongguk wasn’t listening. “Thank you for your time, I’ll just go-”

“What, Jeongguk?” Namjoon grasps his sleeve, tugging. “Hey- sit down, it’s okay. I was just saying I think Jimin would be the best person to help you, and with Hoseok as another shifter, you might be able to learn a lot from him.”

“You… you really think you can help?” Jeongguk asks, pinching the hem of his shirt between his fingers.

“Truthfully, I’m never sure.” Namjoon says, a bit sheepishly. “But it’s better than risking your life every time you go out, right?”

Jeongguk really can’t argue with that.

“Okay,” Jeongguk says finally. “Okay, yeah. If you think you can help me, I’m all for it.”

Namjoon hands over his phone, and they quickly exchange numbers. “I’ll figure out when Jimin is free and introduce you guys, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Aw, is Jeonggukie leaving already?” Taehyung looks up from the dishes, frowning as Namjoon leads Jeongguk to the door. “I didn’t even get to make him a personal cloud.”

Namjoon laughs, but it does nothing to ease the frightened look on Jeongguk’s face. “He’s got shit to do, Taehyung. You’ll see him around.”

“Promise?” Taehyung asks, looking at Jeongguk.

“Uh. Sure.”

Namjoon makes sure to give him Jimin’s number- just in case- before Jeongguk leaves, with the assurance that if Jimin couldn’t help, Namjoon wouldn’t stop until they found someone who could. It doesn’t exactly help Jeongguk’s confidence as he walks home, but he returns to a note from his aunt saying she’d stepped out to get more ice cream, and he promises himself he’ll fix this even if it’s the last thing he does.

Jeongguk gets out of class late, cursing as he heads out of the lecture hall. He’d transformed halfway through, but after being up late studying for a quiz, he just hadn’t bothered to leave after changing. Now, his clothes were too long and he kept tripping in his shoes. He gets some funny looks as he makes his way to the student center, spotting Taehyung sitting on one of the benches outside the building.

It had been more than a week since Jeongguk had dinner with Namjoon and his friends, and with no contact afterwards, Jeongguk assumed they considered him a lost cause. So when Taehyung messaged him this morning, Jeongguk was surprised to say the least.

“Hyung.”

Taehyung startles as Jeongguk joins him on the bench, looking very intensely at Jeongguk’s face. “Jeongguk?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Quit apologizing. When?”

“During class.”

Taehyung ruffles his hair, giving him a sympathetic look before he rifles through his messenger bag. He produces a chocolate granola bar, handing it to Jeongguk with a grin. “Hoseok hyung used to say his stomach never felt well after shifting. You should eat that.”

Jeongguk’s fingers are shorter than he’s used to, an odd kick in his stomach. “Thank you.”

“No worries, you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Jimin should be done with practice soon,” Taehyung explains. Apparently, this was the first afternoon Jimin had free in a while, and Jeongguk felt inexplicably guilty when Taehyung had mentioned that this morning, but Taehyung assured him that it was fine, urging Jeongguk to eat when he spends too long fiddling with the wrapper. “We’ll meet him at the gym.”

Taehyung leads him across campus to one of the gyms Jeongguk had planned on visiting a lot more, taking advantage of the long hours there, but the risk of shifting there was too high, and Jeongguk had to settle for lifting the couch and accidentally scaring the shit out of his aunt. He quickly finishes off the granola bar as Taehyung complains about Seokjin eating his leftovers, about Namjoon waking him up early to replace all of the plants in his room, until they get to the gym. Taehyung greets the receptionist like an old friend, and guides Jeongguk through the halls.

He pushes open the door, dragging Jeongguk to the corner, and- oh. It isn’t a regular weight room; they’d interrupted an actual Kendo class. Taehyung seemed entirely unconcerned, leaning against the wall and tapping away at his phone. Jeongguk watches the end of the class with that familiar longing in his chest, watches a boy with black hair demonstrate a move for the rest of the class. His legs were devastating, thighs thick enough to choke him out, hair sweaty where it falls into his eyes- and Jeongguk lets out an embarrassing /meep/ when those eyes catch his across the room.

The boy holds his gaze, uninterested, before he joins the rest of the students for a cool down.

Jeongguk holds his chest, trying to calm his damn heartbeat. He’s seen attractive boys before; he needs to get it together.

The class dismisses, and Taehyung pockets his phone as the students begin gathering their bags, some hanging back to discuss something with the teacher, and others hurrying from the room while they chug a bottle of water. Jeongguk tries to guess which one is Jimin as the boy from earlier approaches them, black t-shirt stuck to his chest with sweat and hands shoved in his pockets. He maintains the same flat expression, and Jeongguk’s heart kicks hard in his chest because he’s terrified and turned on and Taehyung absolutely does not need to see that.

“Jimin-ah!” Taehyung throws his arms over the boy’s neck, pressing a super wet kiss to the boy- Jimin’s- cheek, and yeah okay. It makes sense to Jeongguk that someone as unfairly attractive would be together with someone as devastatingly beautiful as Jimin. “This is Jeongguk, the shifter we told you about.”

“Sh!” Jeongguk hisses, brought back to awareness like a freight train had hit him dead on.

“Relax,” Jimin says. His expression softens as he looks at Taehyung as he's playing with Jimin’s hair. “Everyone in this class is magic. You’re safe here.”

Still, as soon as Jeongguk feels that familiar pull in his stomach he can’t help the way he glances nervously around the room, at the teacher explaining something to a girl who still hadn’t left. The boy frowning at his phone. The girl changing her shirt in the corner. Jeongguk’s bones shift slightly, and he wobbles a little where he stands.

Taehyung catches his elbow.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks quietly, pushing Jeongguk’s damp bangs away from his face.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk struggles to breathe properly. “Yeah.”

“So you really have no control at all?” Jimin asks, as they leave the room, his gym bag over one shoulder and Taehyung’s arm over the other.

Jeongguk shakes his head. “It was worse when I was a kid. My aunt used to lose me almost everywhere we went. It’s settled some, but I can’t stop it from happening or control how long I stay.”

Jimin frowns, holding Taehyung’s hand where it hangs over his chest. Eventually, Taehyung says, “Jimin has the best control. He has to, when he can manipulate all of the elements.”

Jimin rolls his eyes fondly. “Tae.”

“Let me brag about you, Jiminie.” Taehyung nuzzles Jimin’s cheek, before facing Jeongguk on his other side. “Jimin’s a direct descendant of the last royal line in Korea. So not only was he born to two magic families, but he’s got some of the oldest magic around. If he couldn’t control it, his entire family could be at risk.”

“Don’t scare the guy,” Jimin scolds gently.

“When I first met Jimin my plan was to seduce him and become a super sexy trophy husband. Spend my life lounging on a throne,” Taehyung says, grinning at Jeongguk.

“I don’t even have claim to a throne,” Jimin whines. “There aren’t any thrones to claim!”

“We’d find a way,” Taehyung says, waving away Jimin’s concerns.

Jimin leans around Taehyung to glance at Jeongguk. “So, Jeongguk. When did your magic first manifest?”

Jeongguk looks down, staring at his shoes as he tries to remember. The earlier years of his magic were muddled and cloudy, mostly because he’d tried to forget it, but also because of the medicine. “When I was… six? Five? I accidentally shifted into my older brother and stayed like that for an entire day. My father was not happy.”

“Is he magic?” Jimin asks.

“No. Not him or my parents.”

“Oh,” Jimin says. He looks just as shocked as Taehyung, when Jeongguk had said that at dinner. “Okay. That’s… unusual.”

Jeongguk snorts. “That’s putting it lightly.”

They stop just outside the gates to the school. Jimin shakes off Taehyung’s arm to face Jeongguk, and though he’s a few inches shorter, Jeongguk feels so small beneath Jimin’s searching gaze, the way he glances over Jeongguk’s entire body, lips pursed in thought. “I’ll try my best,” Jimin says eventually. “Everyone’s magic is different, but I’m willing to help you out.”

Jeongguk lets out a long sigh. “That’s all I can ask for at this point. Even if you can help me stop shifting so fucking often, that would be enough for me.”

“Right.” Jimin says. “We can start this week. My schedule is freeing up, so I’ll text you?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go, Jeonggukie.” Taehyung throws an arm over his shoulder, waving as Jimin crosses the street in the opposite direction. “I want to convince Yoongi to buy me dinner.”

The next afternoon, Jeongguk is taking full advantage of his day off from school to laze around in his bed. His aunt was working until late, but she’d already decided she’d bring home takeout instead of either of them cooking anything. He’s getting bored of a YouTube binge when his phone chimes, a message coming through from Jimin asking to meet up.

Jeongguk scrambles from his bed, quickly taking a shower and changing into jeans and a hoodie. He programs the address Jimin sends into his phone, and sets off after writing a quick note for his aunt.

It’s one of the last few warm days before the weather finally yields to fall, and Jeongguk can’t help but wonder if Taehyung had anything to do with the warm front that had moved in. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, children walking home from school and tutoring, parents urging their kids from the playgrounds, delivery bikes weaving through traffic.

Jimin’s apartment is a little run down, but Jeongguk thinks it’s nice. His unit is on the first floor, and it doesn’t take long for Jeongguk to reach it, knocking quickly before he can change his mind.

“Hey.” Jimin answers quickly, inviting Jeongguk inside. He’s in a white t-shirt, jeans ripped obscenely up his thighs. “Taehyung just left, he won’t be back until late.”

“Okay.”

“Hungry?”

“No.”

“You look sick.”

“I’m-” Jeongguk takes a breath, realizing he’d forgotten to do that for a while. “I’m really fucking nervous.”

Jimin’s eyes soften, and he offers Jeongguk a reassuring smile. “Just relax, okay? Your magic isn’t dangerous. Unless you shift into a spider, in which case I will crush you beneath the heel of my shoe.”

Jeongguk’s gaze drops to Jimin’s shoes, these black leather boots, and thinks he wouldn’t mind if Jimin crushed him with those.

He takes a deep breath and follows Jimin to the couch, sitting ramrod straight as Jimin looks him over once again. They stay like that, Jeongguk chewing on his lip, while Jimin just. Waits. He thinks he can hear the traffic outside, maybe the rumbling of a thunderstorm and wonders if Taehyung is having a rough night at work. Jeongguk waits, but Jimin just crosses his legs, the holes in his jeans straining with the press of his thighs, and fuck, Jeongguk isn’t going to survive this.

Finally, Jeongguk blurts, “What?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “I’m waiting for you to shift.”

“I-I can’t,” Jeongguk says. He thought he made that perfectly clear. “You know that.”

“I do. Now shift.”

“I can’t.”

“Do it.”

“I can’t-”

“Shift.”

Jeongguk doesn’t.

He waits for it, wondering if this was part of Jimin’s own control exercises to have someone snap at him until he shows his magic, but those pins and needles don’t start in his toes. He doesn’t outgrow or shrink in his clothes. His hair stays the same length. Nothing.

“Okay,” Jimin says, frowning. “Damn, that worked for the last girl I helped.”

“She responded well to being yelled at?” Jeongguk asks flatly.

That gets a surprised laugh out of Jimin. “You think that was stern? Oh, man. I could do so much worse.”

Jeongguk curses the warm feeling that scorches his stomach.

“If I just needed stern,” Jeongguk says. “The doctors would have fixed me years ago.”

Jimin’s expression immediately flattens. “Absolutely nothing about you needs to be fixed, Jeongguk. Control is not a means of changing who you are, it’s strengthening the bond you have with your magic. Without control, your magic runs rampant, but it doesn’t mean you have to be fixed. Fucking mortal doctors do more harm than good when our kind reach out to them.”

“Jimin-ssi?”

“Hyung,” Jimin says, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. Are you more likely to shift some days than others?”

“I don’t think so,” Jeongguk says. “Sometimes when I’m really nervous about something I shift, but I haven’t been able to track it.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment, scanning down Jeongguk’s body with a frown on his lips. “Let’s try something else. Close your eyes. Now picture your magic as something tangible, something you can hold in your hands.”

“Like warm brownies?”

Jimin laughs, and Jeongguk startles when he feels Jimin’s hand on his shoulder. He’s surprised by how comfortable he feels already, sitting on the ratty couch next to a man he’s only met once before. Maybe it was the dirty boxers Jeongguk had spotted on the floor, or the matching pig plushies on the chair on the other side of the room, or the photos of Taehyung and Jimin on the wall, but it already felt comfortable to Jeongguk.

Enough so that he doesn’t feel tense or nervous closing his eyes, knows that he’s safe here if he were to shift. Jeongguk doesn’t have to worry. Namjoon had met him for an early dinner the night before, assuring Jeongguk when he’d aired some of his worries.

“I was thinking something like a candle,” Jimin says gently. “But choose whatever you like, Jeongguk-ah. Picture your magic, now take it into your hands.”

Jeongguk tries to picture it, takes Jimin’s advice and tries to see his magic as a kind of candle within himself. The first counselor he’d met, years ago after the first time he ever shifted, used hypnosis. For a moment, with Jimin’s soothing voice, Jeongguk almost feels like he’s back in that moment, in that tiny room as the counselor tried to will the evil out of Jeongguk, to hypnotize him out of ever shifting again. He feels his chest begin to constrict, until Jimin takes his hands, cupping Jeongguk’s in his own palms.

“Breathe, Jeongguk.” Jimin moves closer, the couch sinking a bit under his weight. “You’re safe here. Picture that candle, the wick is burnt but the flame is out. It’s a part of you, warm and heavy. You’re connected, understand?”

“I’m not sure,” Jeongguk admits.

“That’s okay.” Jimin squeezes his hands. “Picture all of your magic inside the candle, as long as that wick will continue to burn, your magic will never run out. It’s a part of you, breathe in and the magic burns brighter. Breathe in, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jeongguk does, breathes in deep until he can’t hold any more air inside of his lungs. He sees the candle, the purple he imagines as his magic burning bright, brighter, brightest until Jimin instructs him to breathe out, and the magic cools. It never disappears, not even when Jeongguk has expanded his lungs entirely.

“Are you with me?”

“Yeah, hyung.”

“We’re going to try something.” Jimin strokes his thumb over the back of Jeongguk’s hand. “Picture your magic dimming, until the color is barely visible. Breathe in. Straighten your back. Build your magic, let it burn and warm you until it blisters. Let that flame grow, uninhibited by your body. Got it?”

Jeongguk nods, lets the flame in his mind jump until he thinks he can feel the burns on his fingers.

“Now,” Jimin says, his voice quiet but firm. “Snuff the flame, and let your magic flow through you. Picture a face, and- shift!”

Jeongguk pictures the flame going out, snuffs it with his fingers and lets the purple essence of his magic escape the candle, flow through his being. He breathes deep, back arching, and-

Nothing.

“Dammit!”

“Huh,” Jimin says, unflinching as Jeongguk stands and kicks at the floor. “I really thought that would work.”

“I’m the same, right?” Jeongguk knows he is. He didn’t feel the telltale signs, and he’d- embarrassingly enough- pictured Jimin’s face when trying to force himself to shift, and Jimin’s smaller than he is. Still, he looks at his hands, wishing to find smaller fingers, but Jeongguk is the same. “I’m fucking hopeless.”

“You are not hopeless,” Jimin says firmly. “We’ll just need to try something else.”

Jeongguk sighs, sitting back on the couch and trying to prepare himself for even more failure. To his surprise, Jimin stands and pads his way to the tiny kitchen to dig through his cabinets. He comes back with a couple granola bars, handing them off to Jeongguk and saying, “It’s Namjoon’s night to make dinner but he has a late class. You’re welcome to his place later tonight but for now, let’s try something different.”

After ensuring Jeongguk eats, Jimin leads him to sit in a patch of sun beneath a window. “Did the others tell you about my magic?”

“A little,” Jeongguk says.

In his palm, Jimin holds a small flame. It’s warm on the bottom of Jeongguk’s chin, pretty where the flame flickers with Jimin’s breathing. “I can control the elements. As far as I know, my mom is the only other person with control over all four. My dad’s specialty is air, but both of their families have had elementals throughout the generations. Can you guess how long the official training for elementals is?”

“No.”

“Decades.” Jimin folds his hands together, and when he opens them again, he’s molding a rock. It follows along with his movements, changing shape and size before Jeongguk’s very eyes. “I first started showing signs of air when I was six. My parents found a specialist, but very soon after I started showing water and earth. When I accidentally set a pile of leaves on fire, my parents knew I had inherited all the elements. Since elementals are so rare, they’re considered far more dangerous than most other magical beings. Essentially, from my sixth birthday really until now, I’ve been learning to control it. Because if I couldn’t control myself, I wouldn’t be allowed to attend a public university.”

Jeongguk is silent, listening as Jimin explains a bit more about his family history, about his grandmother who’d taught him how to control his water magic by taking him to the ocean in Busan and encouraging him to manipulate the tides.

He thinks back to the last time he went to the beach before he left Busan, remembers being so small, just a kid, standing in the shallows with his jeans rolled up. When the sun began to set, Jeongguk stood there wishing the tide would pull him back with it, wishing he wouldn’t still be standing there as his brother came to bring him home.

“Doesn’t it scare you?” Jeongguk asks gently, a smile tugging at his lips as Jimin makes a tiny wind tornado on one palm. “How easily you could hurt everyone?”

Jimin shrugs. “It used to, sure. When I was a child and my friends would tell me their parents didn’t want them playing with me, but magic is so much more than its pitfalls. Someone without control is dangerous, but someone with control is incredible. Seokjin has returned precious inherited heirlooms to grandchildren all because a watch he picked up asked him to. Those with water magic often go into healing and save so many people. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

“I guess,” Jeongguk says. He doesn’t mention that his magic is useless compared to people like Seokjin or healers. What good is a shifter? What good can Jeongguk do? “Do you really think I can control this?”

“If you don’t, you’ll just be arrested.”

Jeongguk freezes, terror flashing over his features.

Jimin’s smile fades.

“That was a joke, Jeongguk-ah.”

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t a very good one.”

“I’m sorry.” Jimin extinguishes the tiny tornado he held in his palm. “That was insensitive of me.”

“It’s fine. Sometimes I feel like I’m just waiting for a cop to catch me shifting.”

“That- you shouldn’t have to live like that.” Jeongguk gives him a flat look. “Right. Well, we have time to try one more thing before dinner.”

So Jimin makes Jeongguk stand and take his hands in the dying light of the day and uses one of the exercises that his fire magic tutor had used when he was a child. It doesn’t work, which doesn’t surprise Jeongguk, but Jimin promises they’ll figure it out, and that he and his friends will find something that works for him. Jeongguk tries to agree, but he catches the look between Seokjin and Namjoon during dinner, and can’t help the way his stomach sinks at the sight- or the way he shifts into Namjoon before they’ve even finished cutting the meat.

For almost a month, Jimin finds time twice a week to meet with Jeongguk. It’s easier some weeks, when Jeongguk is three days into an Overwatch binge in Yoongi’s bedroom and Jimin can just grab him by the elbow and drag him out of the house. Some weeks, Jimin is busy with practice or schoolwork and one of the others will try to help with Jeongguk’s control.

Taehyung will meet Jeongguk outside of classes that they share a building in, or Namjoon will wait at the bus station with him. Sometimes, after a particularly grueling studying stint, Seokjin will bring him cookies and then reveal there’s extra salt in them. Jeongguk, hungry and sleep-deprived, will eat them anyways. A few times, Jeongguk falls asleep in Yoongi’s bed and wakes with a scream when the blankets move and a phantom body lies next to him, and he doesn’t calm down until Yoongi makes himself visible again.

Sometimes, Hoseok will meet with Jeongguk and Jimin to try and offer advice as another shifter, but Hoseok’s mom was also a shifter, and he’d been raised watching her, so aside from the yoga exercises he recommends (that Jeongguk only does when he’s absolutely certain that his aunt is asleep) he doesn’t have much for Jeongguk.

(“How do you do that?” Jeongguk asks, after Jimin has called it for the night, and Jeongguk has shoved his head in Hoseok’s lap.

“Do what?”

“Change your clothes when you shift.”

“Ah,” Hoseok threads his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, a small comfort. “That all comes with control. When you have a strong grasp on your magic, you can change your body and appearance while also changing your clothes to match whoever you’ve chosen to shift to. Next time you feel yourself shifting, try it out.”)

The others try to help, too, offering advice or tactics that had worked for them, but as more and more of them fail, Jeongguk begins to wonder if he’s just wasting Jimin’s time.

Jimin takes Jeongguk to the park, tries to trigger his shifting by being around countless faces to change into. He brings Jeongguk to some of his kendo classes, thinking maybe some of the exercises there may help Jeongguk to hone his abilities. He shows Jeongguk his own magic, uninhibited in the park after dark, but as much as it awes Jeongguk- the arcs of flame and the summoning of water- he still shifts without control. He shifts into Jimin one day waiting for him outside of Kendo and stays like that for almost two days.

Jeongguk sometimes crashes Taehyung’s control lessons with Yoongi, but usually only when he’s frustrated with his own progress. Taehyung’s control over the weather gets better as Jeongguk feels like he’s losing touch with himself. Yoongi pats his shoulder, hand invisible, and Jeongguk still screams a little.

“You’ve been out a lot lately,” his aunt says one night, as Jeongguk gets home late. “When do I get to meet these friends?”

“Auntie.” Jeongguk groans, flopping onto the couch. “You’re just going to embarrass me.”

“That’s my job,” she says with a grin. She tugs on his hair, long enough now to get in his eyes. “Can’t I at least meet Jimin? You never stop talking about him.”

Jeongguk chews on his lip and momentarily regrets telling her about his friends. He’d told her after his first failed night with Jimin, mostly because she’d asked what had been keeping him out so often, but he couldn’t keep secrets from her to begin with, had told her all about Taehyung and his unique laughter, or how Seokjin was the first person to laugh at Jeongguk’s jokes. After the first night Jeongguk fell asleep in Namjoon’s apartment, he’d woken up to thirty panicked messages from his aunt- along with Taehyung having a very lengthy conversation with her to say yes, Jeongguk was alive and by the way, how do you feel about the current healthcare available to those who spontaneously burst into flames?

Still, Jeongguk hides his face in a pillow and dodges her questions about his friends. He’s told her the most about Jimin, first under the guise of Jimin being the one Jeongguk was trying to learn control from, and then a little more as a witch Jeongguk truly admired- but the way Jeongguk spoke of Jimin was a little friendlier than the others. A little more personal, maybe, but Jeongguk-

Jeongguk has seen the way Jimin and Taehyung hang all over each other. He’s walked into one of the others’ apartments to find Jimin and Taehyung lying against each other on the couch and giggling at something on one of their phones. The kisses to each other’s cheeks, or the back-hugs that last all night, or how sometimes Jeongguk wonders if the second bedroom in their apartment was even necessary considering how many times they shared a bed. It wasn’t fair, the thoughts Jeongguk had of Jimin, or how excited he was to share a story involving Jimin with his aunt. Jeongguk was a lot of things, a Virgo, an adrenaline junkie, a guy who hates peas, but he wasn’t a home wrecker, and he wouldn’t fuck up what Taehyung and Jimin had.

He could learn control from Jimin and keep his personal emotions out of it. He could leave those thoughts of Jimin to his hyper-realistic dreams and push down on his guilt whenever Taehyung jumped onto his back.

Even as a text comes through from Jimin, asking if Jeongguk was free tonight to head to karaoke with the rest of them, Jeongguk swears he can keep this thing in check.

(Jimin shows up in what Jeongguk affectionately calls The Cursed Boots and a shirt short enough to almost be a crop top and Jeongguk suffers the entire night.)

“How long did it take you to learn control?” Jeongguk asks after another failed afternoon with Jimin. That afternoon, Jimin had done something different, actually trying to hypnotize Jeongguk after reading that it had helped a witch in their school. All it had done was make Jeongguk shift constantly for two hours until it had stopped Jimin had to go to practice and Jeongguk curled himself in a ball beneath the table.

He’d walked the entire way to Seokjin’s apartment and fallen face first onto his bed because Jeongguk has fallen asleep in a lot of beds but Seokjin’s was one of the most comfortable he’d ever felt, and Jeongguk often found himself seeking it out first. Seokjin had let him be until he wanted to play Mario Kart, so they’d rearranged onto the couch while waiting for the others. Seokjin resets the game when Jeongguk laps him on Rainbow Road and sits back down.

“Gonna be honest with you, JK,” Seokjin says. They’re reclined on the couch, trying to hit each other with bananas in the game. “My magic doesn’t really require any control.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My magic depends entirely on when something needs to tell me a story. Sometimes I pick up a pen, and it shows me the last day in someone’s pocket. Sometimes I pick up Yoongi’s bills and they tell me they’re overdue, but most of the shit I touch doesn’t have a past to tell.” Seokjin shrugs, popping another cookie into his mouth. Store bought, because he didn’t feel like putting the effort into making them when Taehyung and Hoseok would likely eat them all. “I had my magic down by the time it manifested, so I can’t really help you.”

Jeongguk tampers down his brief flare of envy, throwing a red shell to knock Seokjin off the map. He tries to imagine what it might be like, living with such a non-invasive magic. He wouldn’t have spent the last years checking every corner before he turned them, or he wouldn’t have scared the shit out of his family, maybe they would have-

Just then, a crack of lightning illuminates the night sky through the window. A second later, thunder echoes loudly, and then rain begins to pour so hard that both Seokjin and Jeongguk’s phones light up with an emergency warning. Jeongguk glances at Seokjin just in time for the power to go out.

“Uh.”

Seokjin sighs, placing his controller on the couch and disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a few candles, lighting them with a lighter and placing them on the table.

The door opens a few minutes later, and in the dim candlelight, Jeongguk watches Taehyung stalk through the apartment, not sparring a glance at Seokjin or Jeongguk. Yoongi is close behind him, saying, “Taehyung come on , I know it’s a big deal, please! Please just let me talk!”

Yoongi’s entire body flickers between permanent and invisible as he follows Taehyung, his body disappearing as Taehyung slams the door to his bedroom in his face.

It’s silent for an awkward moment, until Jimin, Hoseok, and Namjoon hesitantly enter the apartment, Jimin holding a flame in his palm like a torch. Namjoon shakes his head at Seokjin’s inquisitive look, and Jeongguk tries not to flinch as Yoongi sits heavily on the couch next to him.

“Jeongguk-ah.” Jimin stops in front of him, but he’s looking at the bedroom door. “Are you feeling better?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Good. I’m sorry about this afternoon.”

“It’s okay, hyung-”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Jimin says to the room at large. He extinguishes his flame as he approaches the door, the storm still raging outside. Lightning and thunder strike in near simultaneous fervor. Jimin knocks gently. “Taehyungie?”

The door opens almost instantly, Jimin disappearing inside as soon as he can. Jeongguk can hear Hoseok and Namjoon speaking quietly to Seokjin in the kitchen, and then the unanimous decision to just order food for the night.

Jeongguk looks to Yoongi, who was still flickering between invisible. He’s slumped on the couch, ignoring when Seokjin calls him.

“Um. Hyung?” Jeongguk sees Namjoon’s sharp look from the corner of his eye, but he’s gotten close to Yoongi over the past month, has fallen asleep in Yoongi’s bed several times, or composed dumb little songs together for fun and Jeongguk doesn’t like to see him sad. Yoongi makes a noise to indicate he’d heard. “How did you learn to control your magic?”

Yoongi’s head disappears as he turns to look at Jeongguk. “I didn’t.”

The apartment is silent save for the rain, but Jeongguk just moves a little closer to Yoongi and offers Seokjin’s abandoned controller. Yoongi doesn’t take it, but he does eventually hook his chin on Jeongguk’s shoulder as he watches Jeongguk play until the food arrives and Hoseok replaces the controller with Jeongguk’s usual order.

“Hyung,” Namjoon eventually says. “What happened?”

With a sigh, Yoongi stabs at a piece of chicken with his chopstick. He still hasn’t fully retained permanence, but he was sharing food with Jeongguk- which he considered to be a win. “I forgot about the art exhibit he wants to visit this weekend. I didn’t buy the tickets and now it’s sold out.”

“Oh,” Seokjin breathes. “He was really looking forward to it. And isn’t it your-?”

“Yes.” Yoongi aggressively chews his chicken. “It is. You know famous people, can’t you get me into it?”

“First off, I don’t /know/ famous people, I have a tendency of being in a good place at a good time.” Seokjin gives Yoongi more food, but none of them open Taehyung or Jimin’s containers. “But I think my father knows the owners of the building they’re hosting the exhibition at. I’ll get back to you.”

“Do this for me and I’ll play MapleStory with you as many times as you want.”

Seokjin grins around a bite of his food. “Nope. You’ll owe me three rounds of Just Dance. Full participation and enthusiasm will be required.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hands reappearing where he holds his food and chopsticks. “Fine, whatever. Just get me in there.”

Eventually, Jimin guides Taehyung out of the bedroom with a loose hand around his wrist. The rain hasn’t let up, but the thunder and lightning had ceased a while ago, and Taehyung looks a little embarrassed as Jimin sits him on the armchair and wraps a blanket around his shoulders, pushing his container of food into his hands.

“Eat,” Jimin says.

“Jimin-”

“Eat first.” Jimin sits on the arm of the chair, close enough to lean onto Taehyung. “Talk afterwards.”

Jeongguk nearly drops his food when his stomach clenches uncomfortably, and he curses very loudly as he feels himself shift. The others watch with varying looks of amusement and concern.

Jeongguk groans. “Who am I?”

“Hoseok,” Namjoon says.

“Is that really what my hair looks like right now?” Hoseok mutters, as Jeongguk slumps down on the couch nearly as far as Yoongi.

Jimin throws a soy sauce packet at him. “We’re going to figure this out, Jeongguk.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees listlessly. He ignores the bite in his stomach when Jimin presses a kiss to the top of Taehyung’s head, and tries to shake the thoughts that there’s nothing any of them can do for him.

Jeongguk is standing on the lower part of the roof when his phone chimes. He curses, flinching a little because it’s so fucking dark and he’s never snuck out of this fraternity before. But the guy lived on the lower level, so it’s really only a very small jump. Luckily, he’s in his own body, so it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to lower himself, grab the rain gutter, and swing himself down into the bushes.

He brushes away the leaves and grass he’d fallen in as he makes his to the sidewalk. The part was still in full swing behind him, but there were a few people he’d recognized from class, and Jeongguk would rather not risk it and he was already pushing curfew without telling his aunt he’d be late.

He checks his phone, expecting a meme from Taehyung or a riddle from Seokjin (they were in a riddle war. There was no clear leader in the war, and Jeongguk’s brain hurt from riddles) but instead, it was from Jimin, asking if he was free tomorrow night because,

“Taehyung works down here, and he promised us a free drink,” Jimin explains the next evening. Jeongguk had to beg his aunt to let him out after he’d forgotten to take out the trash the day before. “We like to hang out here sometimes. It’s a mortal bar-”

“It’s a what?” Jeongguk freezes on the sidewalk, Namjoon, Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin walking ahead. Jimin stops, too. “Hyung, why- why would you? I can’t- I’ll shift in front of them, and-”

“Hey, hey. Relax.” Jimin grips Jeongguk’s shoulders, suddenly standing in front of him. “It’s a mortal bar, but they have nights only for magical beings, okay? We can- we can make it into another control exercise.”

“How?” Jeongguk mutters, glaring down at his feet.

“Focus on staying as yourself tonight. You said drinking fucks with your shifting, right?” Jimin squeezes his shoulders, waiting until Jeongguk looks at him again. “You don’t have to drink, but if you do try to practice what we’ve talked about. Picture your magic as something malleable, that you take charge of. Something that doesn’t get affected by liquor, okay?”

Jeongguk doesn’t think it will work, but considering his track record, he’s ready to try anything. “Okay.”

When they get to the bar, Jeongguk is surprised by how nondescript it is. Nothing more than a faded sign even indicates that there’s a bar nestled between the other shops, and Jeongguk can’t help but wonder if that’s for nights like tonight, when magic beings gather together. Inside isn’t very different, dim lighting that makes Jeongguk squint and music from a wannabe DJ in the corner. There are tables piled with empty shot glasses and couples trying to turn the bathroom hallway into a dance floor.

Jeongguk grips the back of Jimin’s shirt as they walk in, pocketing their IDs after being allowed inside. It’s nothing flashy, but there are people shifting where they stand to make their friends laugh, or people controlling the water in their drinks, or people with scales that shimmer in and out of Jeongguk’s sight. Jeongguk stands and stares, entranced with the light show one girl with bright purple hair is putting on until Jimin grabs him by the elbow to lead him to a table.

Seokjin was dishing out shots, and they’d each already grabbed something to drink before snagging the table. “We weren’t sure what you wanted,” Seokjin says to Jeongguk, handing something to Jimin. “Your usual.”

“Go get something,” Jimin says, hand on the small of Jeongguk’s back. “Or at least say hi to Tae.”

He nudges Jeongguk in the direction of the bar, and Jeongguk honestly does a double take when he spots Taehyung behind the bar. He’s used to seeing Taehyung in outrageously flared pants, with hems so wide Jeongguk has wondered if he could fit into the ends, or shirts with holes, or jackets he’s painted himself but tonight he’s in black skinny jeans, and a black t-shirt that shows off his clavicle and arms so nicely, and a-

“Wedding ring?”

Taehyung looks up from where he’d been leaning against the bar while speaking to a woman, and his face lights up when he spots Jeongguk. “Jeonggukie! I wasn’t sure you’d come! What’s your drink?”

“Why are you wearing a wedding ring?”

“Hm?” Taehyung looks down at his hand, as if he’d forgotten he was wearing the ring. When he laughs, Jeongguk honestly thinks he sees three girls swoon where they sit. “Got tired of always being hit on while I work, and this helps. Now people don’t waste their time leaving me their number, y’know?”

“Uh, sure?”

“Plus, maybe it’ll give a certain you know who some ideas, right?”

Jeongguk looks in the direction Taehyung winks, and his stomach sinks as Jimin flips Taehyung off. Taehyung only laughs, blowing him a kiss, and Jeongguk feels incredibly guilty for picturing Jimin when he was with the last guy he’d slept with.

“Hyung, I-”

“Want a drink?” Taehyung asks. “I’ve been making Yoongi taste test a bunch of drinks with magic in them before I try to sell any of them- or. Maybe not?”

Jeongguk wonders if the fear on his face was that noticeable. “Just. Something that doesn’t taste bad?”

Taehyung pinches his cheek. “I think I can do that.”

Jeongguk ends up heading back to the table with something fruity piled with extra cherries, pleased that he can’t even taste the alcohol. He made Taehyung promise not to be heavy handed, earning himself a confused look- after all, they were getting drinks from a friend, anyone else would accept an over pour- but eventually Taehyung poured him something and sent him back with another for Jimin, too.

He settles in the booth, taking in the bar with his ass firmly planted on his seat. Namjoon and Seokjin were bent over their phones, giggling about something, while Hoseok sipped on his first drink, still. Jimin was twisted in his seat, talking to a girl whose magic seemed to manifest whenever she giggled. Jeongguk tries not to feel bitter about the way Jimin’s face lights up, or the way he shows off his own magic for the girl because he doesn’t even have a chance. Jimin may look gorgeous with his hair swept off his face and his maroon button-down, but he was Taehyung’s.

Doesn’t mean Jeongguk couldn’t look.

At one point, Yoongi offers to get everyone another round and slips behind the bar, much to Taehyung’s delight. They share a shot before Taehyung turns the corner, balancing an impressive number of bottles.

Jeongguk hums, nudging Seokjin. He’d forced his way between Seokjin and Namjoon a while ago to watch a video with them, but had stayed after getting distracted by the way Jimin’s shirt slipped off his shoulder. “Did they work everything out?” Jeongguk asks, pointing to Yoongi.

“Yeah,” Namjoon says. He’s got one arm around Jeongguk, playing lightly with his hair. “Seokjin hyung managed to cop a couple tickets. It was a pretty impressive anniversary, honestly.”

“Anniversary of what-?”

“Jeongguk-ah!” Jimin tries to stand, stumbling a little, and reaches across both Hoseok and Namjoon to grab at Jeongguk’s arm. “Time to dance, Taehyung turned the juke-box back on because the DJ sucked.”

“No one said I had to dance,” Jeongguk whines.

“It’s the rule.”

“What rule?”

Jimin grins. “My rule. Now come on, I want to see what you can do.”

Jeongguk almost tells Jimin exactly what he can do, but has enough brainpower left to chomp down on that thought and accept his fate as Seokjin all but shoves him out of the booth with a wink.

They don’t exactly dance because Hoseok joins them and there’s barely enough room to walk around the bar, let alone enough room for three grown men to dance properly, but none of them mind. The music is good now that Taehyung has put on his own playlist, and Hoseok leads them to pop and lock and all these other things Jeongguk doesn’t understand, but makes him laugh. Hoseok takes Jeongguk by the hand to dip him and Jimin laughs so hard his eyes disappear with his smile, he flings himself against Jeongguk and Jeongguk nearly passes out on the spot.

They share drinks and toast shots, at one point Jimin wraps an arm around Jeongguk’s waist to pull him close while Jeongguk tries to do the Chicken Noodle Soup dance and Jeongguk loses focus, stumbling too close to Jimin.

Jimin doesn’t seem to notice the panic Jeongguk feels, only laughing again and brushing the hair from Jeongguk’s eyes before Hoseok comes to whisk Jimin away in a twirl.

It’s good, it’s /fun / , and Jeongguk lets himself stop worrying for once. He doesn’t think about his magic or anyone’s magic, even as Jimin whisks his own sweat away and his makeup runs a little bit and he looks so /good / Jeongguk is in physical pain. He’s more than a little tipsy, but not so bad he’s afraid of his own magic. Jimin kisses Taehyung’s nose before returning with shots for himself and Hoseok, his grin so wide Jeongguk’s own cheeks ache from looking at it, but he pushes those thoughts away in favor of trying to match what Jimin does with his hips until he feels that pull in his chest.

Jimin is the first one to realize, when Jeongguk’s grin fades and he all but freezes where he stands. Jimin has his hands on Jeongguk’s cheeks before Jeongguk can fully take stock of himself, “Hey, look at me. Don’t let that candle burn you.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes when he feels his toes start to tingle, unable to hold Jimin’s gaze as he tries to picture that candle again, pictures it inside his chest as Jimin whispers to him.

“Snuff the flame, Jeongguk.”

Taking a deep breath, Jeongguk imagines himself putting out the flame, his hands gripping Jimin’s wrists to hold himself together. There are a lot of people in the bar tonight, and Jeongguk has spent more than enough time here for his magic to choose one or more of them to shift into. Jeongguk holds his breath- snuffs the flame- and lets out a choked noise when the pins and needles in his toes disappear.

“Oh my God,” Jeongguk rushes quietly; his eyes flying open in surprise. He still has to look down just a little to see Jimin, his hands that much bigger than Jimin’s, he’s still- “I’m still me!”

Jimin laughs, free and loud, and ruffles Jeongguk’s hair. “You’re still you. You did well, Jeonggukie.”

Jeongguk can’t help it; he pulls Jimin into a tight hug, laughing into Jimin’s hair as Hoseok envelops them both in his arms. For the first time, Jeongguk managed to avoid shifting, and he managed to do it while he’d been drinking. Hoseok gets them one more round of shots, and by now Jeongguk feels fuzzy and happy, holding one of Hoseok and Jimin’s hands in each of his own as he does more swaying than dancing.

He giggles into Hoseok’s neck and wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist from behind, just enjoying this one instance of control that Jeongguk has managed to procure. He feels floaty and warm, the colors a little muted and blurred. Namjoon comes to say goodbye and lifts Jeongguk off the ground with the force of his hug when Jeongguk tells him the good news.

“It’s getting late.” Taehyung finds them piled into a booth, sweaty and laughing and just enjoying being close to each other. “Seokjin just left. You guys should get going before the last call rush.”

Humming, Jimin pulls Taehyung close to kiss the inside of his wrist. “Call us a cab?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but tugs fondly on Jeongguk’s hair before using his phone to call a cab.

“I can’t go home.” Jeongguk whines, rolling his head onto Jimin’s shoulder. “My-My aunt will. She’ll kill me.”

“We’ve got you, Jeonggukie,” Taehyung says as he pockets his phone. To Jimin, he says, “Take Jeongguk back to our place. If our barback actually does his damn job I’ll be home before three.”

“I’ll leave the light on.”

“Hey.” Taehyung knocks his forehead against Jeongguk’s. “Take a painkiller before you sleep. And don’t wear my boxers again.”

Jeongguk whines again. “But they’re so comfy.”

“Go.” Taehyung tugs them all out of the booth, pushing them in the direction of the door before heading back behind the bar. Jeongguk sees Yoongi still sitting in a corner seat, chin on his palm as Taehyung trades bottles with one of the other bartenders.

The cab ride home is a blur, Jeongguk’s body heavy where he leans against Hoseok. The lights are bright and his mind is racing, replaying the moment he didn’t shift over and over again. The happiness radiating off Jimin’s face, the way he’d held Jeongguk tightly when they hugged, the way his hips moved when he danced; sinful and beautiful and God Taehyung was lucky to get that weekly and nightly and ever so rightly.

“Gotta move, Jeonggukie.” Hoseok kisses Jeongguk’s temple as he makes his way out of the car, stumbling up the front steps of his apartment building.

Then it’s just Jeongguk and Jimin, slumped together in the back of a cab while Jimin plays with Jeongguk’s ear. He’s staring out the window, so he doesn’t notice that Jeongguk just stares at him, far more interested in Jimin’s profile and sharp jaw and- is he wearing glitter?

“Come on,” Jimin pokes his cheek. “I don’t feel like sleeping in the car tonight.”

Getting inside proves to be quite a task, as Jeongguk finds the flower pots hilarious and refuses to step inside the building because the carpet pattern is terrifying and looks as if it’s moving. Jimin eventually urges Jeongguk onto his back, carrying him into the apartment and Jeongguk goes silent. He’d swear to whatever higher being that the incredible warmth pooling in his chest was simply due to another shift.

Jimin drops Jeongguk onto the couch, wrestling his shoes off while Jeongguk flops onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I feel all-” his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and Jeongguk sticks it out to frown down at it. “Buzzy?”

“Buzzy?” Jimin repeats, stumbling on his way to the kitchen. He returns with a bottle of water, taking a deep sip before handing it over to Jeongguk. “Oh, that must be the fairy dust. Taehyung’s been experimenting with it in drinks. Everything will feel pretty muddled, but you won’t have a hangover when you wake up.”

“I needa text my aunt,” Jeongguk mumbles, trying to reach for his phone- too far away in his back pocket. “Fairy dust is fun.”

“Taehyung can text her when he’s home,” Jimin says. “It doesn’t work well with brownies. Don’t let Seokjin hyung tell you otherwise.”

Jeongguk laughs, trying to catch the stars he sees on the ceiling. “Hyung-”

Jimin pats his knee. “Move over, man. I want to sit.”

“No.”

“Move over Jeonggukie.”

“Make me.”

Jimin tilts his head, amused as he bites back a grin. “Move or I’ll sit on you.”

“Do it.” Jeongguk swallows, throat suddenly dry. “You won’t.”

Colors suddenly burst into full vibrancy as Jimin swung his leg over Jeongguk’s, and then Jeongguk has a lap full of a giggling Jimin planting his hands on Jeongguk’s stomach to maintain his balance. Jeongguk freezes, hands in fists at his sides, mouth agape as he struggles to make sense of this moment, to come to grips with Jimin sitting on his thighs, Jimin’s hands on his body, and he hopes this isn’t just a dream from the fairy dust.

Jeongguk chews his lower lip between his teeth because he’s drunk, sure, but he’s not drunk enough to forget that Jimin is taken by someone Jeongguk considers a best friend. Jimin’s fingers dance over Jeongguk’s sides, making him choke out his exhale.

“What was it you said?” Jimin asks, a smirk on his lips. The glitter on his cheeks was smudged, his eyeliner messed up, but his shirt was all but falling off his arms and Jeongguk needs to get out of this before he does something stupid. “I won’t?”

“Hyung- T-Tae will be back soon,” Jeongguk stutters. His body likes Jimin on top of him a little too much, and coupled with the drinks they had earlier, Jeongguk’s in danger of ruining everything.

“Mhm.” Jimin hums, dragging his nails lightly over Jeongguk’s shirt. “And he’ll scold me for not getting you into a proper bed.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes against the images that flooded his mind. “He’s my best friend, hyung. We can’t do this to him.”

At that, Jimin frowns, sitting back a little. “Can’t do what to him? We’re not doing anything, Jeonggukie.”

“I know about you and Taehyung.” Jeongguk mumbles, digging his nails into his palm.

“What about me and Taehyung? Oh. Oh.” Jimin curves a hand to Jeongguk’s cheek. “Look at me, Jeongguk-ah.” He waits until Jeongguk opens his eyes, smiling down at Jeongguk. “Taehyung and I aren’t together.”

“You-but. But you guys.” Jeongguk pauses, tries to blink the stars out of his eyes. Jimin looks far too amused, sneaking his free hand under Jeongguk’s shirt to stroke at his warm skin. “The kisses? And the sharing a bed-”

Jimin shrugs. “We’ve always been close. Tried being in a relationship once, but we’re better as best friends. We do have a pact to get married if we’re both single when we’re fifty, but judging by how things are going between Yoongi and Taehyung, I don’t think-”

“What?” Jeongguk blurts. “They’re-?”

“Oh my God, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk remembers, suddenly, Yoongi calling Taehyung the boyfriend when Jeongguk first met him, remembers the days Taehyung appeared to be cuddling air on the couch, or the very distinct wind that only seemed to play with Taehyung’s hair. The storm when Yoongi couldn’t get the tickets to the exhibition, Namjoon calling it an anniversary-

“Oh,” Jeongguk breathes. He covers his eyes as Jimin laughs, not unkindly, and lets out a groan.

“You’re not the first person to assume we were together,” Jimin says, still giggling. He moves both hands beneath Jeongguk’s shirt, scratching lightly at his skin. “It was their one year anniversary this past weekend.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

Jeongguk peeks through his fingers. “So-”

“So the way you’ve been drooling over my ass?”

“I-I haven’t-”

“Please, Jeonggukie.” Jimin shifts, sitting up on his knees and pressing on Jeongguk’s stomach to lean over him, close enough that their lips nearly brush and Jeongguk lets out a startled sound, gripping Jimin’s thighs on reflex. “You’re not very subtle. Staring at me when you think I’m not looking? It’s cute.”

“Jimin, I-”

“It’s okay, Jeongguk.” Jimin noses across Jeongguk’s cheek, and Jeongguk swears the temperature skyrockets, palms burning on Jimin’s thighs. Jimin’s lips are just barely out of reach and Jeongguk holds his breath, tense, afraid that the moment will disappear if he breathes too hard. “If you knew what I’ve thought about doing to you since the first day I saw you in the Kendo room…”

Jeongguk shudders, breathing out a whine as Jimin noses down his neck. “R-Really?”

“Really.” Jimin’s voice dips, lips moving back to rest just above Jeongguk’s. “We can do this. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Jimin splays his hands on Jeongguk’s stomach, and though Jeongguk feels himself going cross-eyed trying to keep his eyes on Jimin with how close they are, he never wants this moment to end. Jimin is warm and solid on his lap, fingers soft where they tickle Jeongguk’s sides. He wants to close the distance between their mouths, to pull Jimin close and put to test everything he’s thought about for the last month.

“Can we?” Jeongguk asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Jimin’s sly grin tells him that he fails. “We can even use it to help your control.”

“How?”

“Leave that to me.” Jimin nudges their noses together. “You want this?”

“Please.”

“Cool.” Jimin presses the lightest of kisses to Jeongguk’s bottom lip and before Jeongguk can feel the pressure, Jimin is gone, standing up to ruffle Jeongguk’s hair. “We can talk about it when we’re sober.”

“I’m sober.” Jeongguk scrambles to prop himself on his hands and somehow misses, plopping onto his face. “I’m so sober, ask me what the capital of Chicago is.”

“Chicago is the capital, Jeongguk”

“Yes.”

Jimin rolls his eyes fondly. “You’re high as fuck on fairy dust and it’s almost three. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“But-”

“Plus,” Jimin runs his fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, tugging his head back as he does. “It gives me time to decide what to do to you.”

“Oh, oh-”

“Why aren’t you two in bed?” Taehyung opens the front door, tossing his keys onto the counter as he kicks off his shoes. “Jeonggukie isn’t even in his pajamas.”

Jeongguk takes Taehyung’s offered hand, letting Taehyung guide him to the bathroom, get his shoes and jeans off and fall face-first into Taehyung’s bed. He can’t stop thinking about what Jimin said, his burning gaze and scorching touch and promises Jeongguk desperately wants him to keep, eventually rolling over to shove his face in Taehyung’s chest.

Taehyung’s still up, tapping away at his phone, and Jeongguk groans when he realizes the uncomfortable pull in his stomach wasn’t because of the alcohol. “Hyung, m’gonna shift.”

Taehyung rubs lightly at Jeongguk’s neck. He waits a few minutes, then asks, “Bigger or smaller pajamas?”

“Smaller.”

“On it.”

The following morning Jeongguk doesn’t have a hangover, but he does explicitly remember his conversation with Jimin. There’s a post-it stuck to Jeongguk’s forehead when he wakes up, a note from Taehyung saying he was meeting Yoongi for breakfast, so Jeongguk rolls out of bed and pads his way to the bedroom across the hall. His pajamas still fit perfectly, so it meant he hadn’t shifted back overnight.

“What the fuck!” Jimin throws a pillow at him as Jeongguk opens the door, startling so hard he nearly shatters the glass of water he has on his side table.

“Hyung!”

“Jeongguk? Sorry, fuck. You scared the shit out of me. Not often you see yourself in your doorway.”

“I figured,” Jeongguk can’t help but laugh as crawls into Jimin’s bed. Jimin lies back, hands warm on Jeongguk’s arms as he welcomes Jeongguk to lie against his body. “I shifted into you?”

“Yeah. I should dye my hair.”

“You should fuck me.”

Jimin chokes on a laugh, squeezing Jeongguk’s bicep. “Can I at least brush my teeth first?”

Jeongguk hides his face in Jimin’s shoulder, wishes he was in his own body so he could know exactly what it was like to lie against him. “Did you mean what you said? Last night.”

Humming, Jimin dances his fingers down Jeongguk’s back. “I did. I used to hook up with Hoseok hyung a lot before he confessed to Seokjin, so I don’t mind. And I think I know how to make it into control lessons for you.

Jeongguk squirms a little, begging his body not to get too excited. “Right now?”

“I’ll definitely need to brush my teeth first.” Jimin presses a light kiss to Jeongguk’s temple. “We don’t have a lot of time before I have practice-”

“Wait.” Jeongguk thunks his forehead on Jimin’s shoulder. “It’s already that late? I promised my aunt we’d go shopping for a new couch today. I’m already late.”

“Later, then.” Jimin promises, patting Jeongguk on the ass once. And then again. Then he’s just holding Jeongguk’s ass. “Don’t forget you have to meet me at the park for training this afternoon. Taehyung wants to make a fog later so we won’t have a lot of time. And considering last time you changed into fucking Billie Eilish, we still have a lot of work to do.”

“It’s all because of that stupid TikTok.”

“Just go.”

Pulling himself away from Jimin is one of the hardest things Jeongguk thinks he’s ever had to do, but he makes it home before his aunt can call to ask if he’d forgotten. Jimin texts him throughout the day to offer ideas for what they can do together, each new message driving Jeongguk more and more wild, until he can barely sit through their training exercises.

He finally shifts back to himself during their exercises, but Jeongguk can’t say for certain whether it’s thanks to Jimin or his own body simply becoming too exhausted to stay in another form. Either way, when they get back to Jimin’s apartment, he’s restless enough that he follows Jimin into the shower, nipping at Jimin’s neck until Jimin gets a hand on him, working him to a slow, trembling orgasm.

Jeongguk drops to his knees in the soapy water, all too eager to get his mouth on Jimin’s dick, lips stretching around his length. Jimin comes quickly, sighing out a soft moan as he tugs on Jeongguk’s hair.

“If you two are done,” Seokjin says, looking marvelously unimpressed as they leave the bathroom. Everyone else was around the apartment, Taehyung winking as he meets Jeongguk’s gaze. “I want barbecue.”

That doesn't stop Jeongguk from sending Jimin some very… specific pictures later that night, curled up in his own bed and reading Jimin’s resulting texts with a grin.

“Hands above your head.”

Jeongguk shivers as he does just that, crossing his wrists above his head. Jimin offers him a grin, trailing the pads of his fingers over Jeongguk’s bare thigh, up his torso, and the soft inside of his arm until he gets to Jeongguk’s wrists. He ties them with a silk, blood red blindfold and Jeongguk can’t help the tremble that wracks his spine. Last time, Jimin covered Jeongguk’s eyes with that blindfold, fucking him until he couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

Tonight, Jimin has Jeongguk on his back, splayed out in nothing but his pink boxers. He’d teased Jeongguk at first, sitting between his thighs with Jeongguk’s jeans undone, working a hand over Jeongguk’s clothed cock until he was painfully hard and shaking, aching to touch but Jimin told him to be good, to keep his hands to himself.

And though Jimin had worked punishments into their control sessions, bringing Jeongguk to orgasm after orgasm until he cried and wailed for relief if he couldn’t shift on his own, or spanking if Jeongguk got bratty during sex, or fucking Jeongguk’s face and coming on his cheeks and refusing to touch Jeongguk’s cock even if he cried- they were still getting used to each other. They were still getting used to each other’s limits and desires, Jimin carefully and slowly trying to train Jeongguk’s magic through sex since the night Jimin first brought it up almost three weeks ago.

It wasn’t all they’d do. Most days, their lessons consisted of Jimin trying to encourage Jeongguk to harness his magic and control it, instead of letting the magic control him. In the last few warm-ish days of the season, they would go to the park more often than not, Jimin promising Jeongguk could eat him out if he could shift into one of the parents around the park before nightfall.

So far, Jeongguk’s only gotten to eat him out twice on days like that. Which Jeongguk thinks is criminal. Jimin’s ass is a delicacy and he’s hooked.

“Look so pretty, baby.” Jimin says, pushing the hair off Jeongguk’s forehead. Jeongguk arches into the touch, chasing the feeling of Jimin’s small fingers in his hair. Suddenly, he tugs, and Jeongguk hisses at the pain. “What do you say when hyung compliments you?”

“Thank you,” Jeongguk gasps, breathless with desire. Jimin had learned- very quickly- that Jeongguk had a thing for pet names, that he came a lot faster and a lot harder when Jimin used his silky sweet voice to call him a pretty slutty baby, make him fall apart so easily. “Hyung, please-”

“None of that, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin purrs. “Begging won’t let you come tonight. Remember what will?”

Jeongguk whines as Jimin pulls on his hair, letting go to tap expectantly at the base of Jeongguk’s throat. “H-Hyung,” Jeongguk finally says. “Hyung will let me come.”

Jimin’s grin is deadly. “Good boy.”

Leaning down to kiss him, Jimin swallows the embarrassing moan that Jeongguk lets out. He’s still hard, straining in his boxers and leaking a steadily. There’s something about Jimin’s lips, pillowy and soft, that Jeongguk can’t get enough of, but the way Jimin kisses, like he’s hungry for it, ready to devour Jeongguk if he lets his guard down. Jimin loves to take advantage of it, kissing Jeongguk stupid; kissing Jeongguk until he can’t remember his own name, until he’s worked up and squirming in Jimin’s lap- and Jimin just giggles, tapping Jeongguk on the nose before leaving him to deal with his problem.

Jeongguk lets out a sob as Jimin pinches his nipple, taking advantage of Jeongguk’s sensitivity to twist and pinch the nub until Jeongguk can’t even kiss him back, panting heavily. Jimin eventually breaks the kiss, dragging his lips down Jeongguk’s neck where he stays, working the skin until Jeongguk is shaking beneath him.

“Pretty baby,” Jimin hums, licking between Jeongguk’s collarbones. “Want hyung to make you feel good?”

“P-Please,” Jeongguk whimpers.

He’s so hard it hurts, thighs tense where Jimin keeps one hand on his inner thigh to keep his legs spread, keep him exposes and open and wanting. To make matters worse- better?- Jimin was still fully clothed, wearing his jeans and his long sleeve and the boots that Jeongguk was still working the courage up to as Jimin to wear while he stepped on him.

Jimin kisses his cheek, flushed and sweaty. “This isn’t enough for you?”

With a featherlight touch, Jimin dances his fingers over Jeongguk’s cock, not enough pressure to give Jeongguk the relief he craves. He grins against Jeongguk’s cheek, keeping his touch light, playing nonsensical patterns against Jeongguk’s thighs and cock.

“Hng- No, hyung-”

“No?” Jimin props his chin on his palm, his elbow on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “I’m touching you, no? Isn’t this what you want?”

Jeongguk jerks when Jimin squeezes his cock, not letting go until Jeongguk shouts, knees curling toward his chest. “Hyung, please-”

“Gotta ask for what you want, babycakes.” Jimin plays with him, almost sounding bored with how disinterested he appears, and something in Jeongguk strains, yearns, because he wants to be good, wants to be good for Jimin, doesn’t want to disappoint Jimin-

“Fuck me,” Jeongguk gasps, sweaty hair flopping into his eyes. “Jimin- Jimin, please. Please please, fuck me- please-”

“Oh, all right. If it will shut you up.”

Jimin kisses him quickly, asking his color and waiting until Jeongguk answers coherently to move, pushing Jeongguk’s legs apart to settle between his thighs as Jeongguk hisses in a breath, rambling, “Thank you, thank you hyung-”

Jimin tugs Jeongguk’s boxers down just enough to get his hand on Jeongguk’s cock, and Jeongguk’s thanks cut off in a desperate moan as Jimin jerks him off roughly, until Jeongguk is thrashing, hiding his face in his bicep but keeping his arms above his head, because he’s good, he’s a good boy, he’s good for Jimin-

“Such a pretty cock, Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin sings. “So cute and tiny.”

“I’m not-” Jeongguk bites his arm when Jimin pinches the tip of his cock between two fingers. “I’m not tiny.”

Jimin laughs, holding Jeongguk’s cock in one hand and tapping it against Jeongguk’s own belly. “Sure, baby. I’m sure you satisfy everyone with this little thing.”

Jeongguk tenses, ready to curse Jimin off because he’s not tiny. Sure, he’s not the biggest, and he’s often regretted his decision to fuck others from the back (insurance, in case he shifted it was easier to get away) once he saw their lengths, saw what they were packing and dreamt of taking it later that night if he had to satisfy himself, but he wasn’t tiny.

“Fuck you,” Jeongguk finally settles on.

“Maybe next time,” Jimin laughs, gathering the lube and condoms he’d tossed on the bed earlier. The sheets were a disaster, sticking to Jeongguk’s slick skin, but the pop of the cap had him whimpering, some kind of pavlovian shit, he’s sure of it. And it’s all Jimin’s fault. The bastard.

Jeongguk spreads his knees as best he can with Jimin between them, with his boxers still only pulled down far enough so Jimin can work a hand between his ass cheeks. He feels his face heat up, humiliation swimming in his veins, feels filthy in his ruined underwear and debauched state while Jimin still looks so poised and put together above him. But it drives Jeongguk absolutely wild, his cock kicking against his stomach and leaking more.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate to push a finger inside of Jeongguk, quickly followed by another one considering they’d just slept together last night. He scissors his fingers, stretching Jeongguk with ease, playing Jeongguk’s body like an instrument he’d mastered decades ago.

Despite Jeongguk’s whines and moans, Jimin avoids his prostate even after he’s worked a third finger into Jeongguk’s asshole, waiting until he has Jeongguk spread open on four fingers to brush his prostate. Jeongguk’s reaction is immediate, back arching high off the bed and a loud whine spilling from his lips, eyes falling shut as he fucks himself down on Jimin’s fingers. He remembers, briefly, the first night they did this, remembers teasing Jimin about his short fingers, taunting, asking whether he could really satisfy Jeongguk like he needed.

So Jimin had laid him down, rubbing and playing with Jeongguk’s prostate until he was crying through his third orgasm, body shaking and throat raw from screaming. In the morning, Yoongi asked if he’d been mauled the night before, and after that Jeongguk knew not to doubt a single thing about Jimin.

“Hng- hah- mnh- Jimin,” Jeongguk pants, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His toes curl, nails biting into his palms as his arms strain, close to coming already. “Fuck, fuck-”

“Don’t come,” Jimin reminds him, even as he presses relentlessly against Jeongguk’s prostate. “I’ll have to punish you if you do.”

Jeongguk sobs, blinking back tears. His hair’s fallen into his eyes, long enough now that it’s almost difficult to see Jimin through it. “Hyung-”

Jimin slips his fingers out of Jeongguk’s hole, wiping them obscenely on the boxers that still strain between Jeongguk’s thighs. Jeongguk lets out a groan, so close to coming he could taste it, but his disappointment quickly dissipates as Jimin rips open a condom, taking a moment to unbutton his jeans to get his cock out, rolling the condom swiftly over his length.

“Please please please please-”

Jeongguk’s nails scratch at the headboard as Jimin slowly, slowly, guides his cock to Jeongguk’s hole. He pushes one of Jeongguk’s thighs close to his chest, holding him there as he thrusts deep into Jeongguk, letting his cock drag deliciously against Jeongguk’s walls as Jeongguk claws at the headboard, throwing his head back with a loud moan.

“There you go, baby.” Jimin leans down, stretching Jeongguk further, to press a kiss to Jeongguk’s slack lips. “So good, swallow hyung up so nicely.”

“Oh, oh, hng- hyung-”

Jeongguk works his hips down to meet Jimin’s thrusts, and soon Jimin builds a pace that has Jeongguk’s head reeling as he pants, mouth open. Jimin slams his hips against Jeongguk’s ass, unrelenting and brutal with strength. Jimin’s stamina was no joke from Kendo, his hips absolutely deadly as he pistons into Jeongguk without giving him a chance to breathe.

He feels Jimin grin against his cheek before he straightens, maneuvering Jeongguk’s leg over his shoulder to grind deeper into him, adjusting his angle until he could brush Jeongguk’s prostate with every thrust. And Jeongguk can’t help his wails, his head falling back as Jimin fucks him hard enough to see stars. With his hands above his head, Jimin moving one of his own to hold Jeongguk down there, Jeongguk has no choice but to take it, arching into Jimin’s thrusts and sobbing as he takes one of Jeongguk’s nipples between his teeth.

Toes curling and nails biting into his palms, Jeongguk is so close he can taste it on the back of his tongue. Jimin keeps one hand on Jeongguk’s wrists and the other on Jeongguk’s chest to hold him down, kissing away the whines and moans that spill uninhibited from Jeongguk’s lips.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk sobs. He tries to move, to hook his leg around Jimin’s waist, but his boxers strain too far on his thighs and he can’t, completely at Jimin’s mercy. “M’so- so close, hyung- please-”

“You want to come?” Jimin whispers against Jeongguk’s lips. “Wanna come all over yourself? Make a pretty mess for hyung?”

Jeongguk whimpers, nodding so quickly he knocks his forehead against Jimin’s. He feels tears fall slowly down his cheeks as Jimin pounds relentlessly against his prostate. Jimin’s still fully clothed, only evidence of exertion his sweaty bangs and the flush on his cheeks, while Jeongguk was absolutely wrecked, hanging on the edge by a thread. “P-Please, Jimin- please-”

“I’m going to count down from ten,” Jimin says, pulling back slightly. He lets go of Jeongguk’s hands, instead splaying both of his own on Jeongguk’s abdomen. It stretches Jeongguk’s thigh where it’s still thrown over his shoulder, making Jeongguk keen. “If you shift before I reach zero, you can come.”

“Hyung!”

“Those are the rules, doll.”

“I can’t-”

“Then I guess you’re not coming. Ten.”

“Jimin, please!”

“Nine.”

Jeongguk lets out a sob as Jimin thrusts particularly hard, flicking Jeongguk’s nipples with each number, eight, seven, six-

He’d been remarkably pleased the first time they slept together, when Jimin had discovered just how sensitive Jeongguk’s nipples were, and he plays with them now as Jeongguk writhes beneath him.

“Five.”

“Jimin-!”

“Shift, Jeongguk-ah.”

“Fuck!”

Jeongguk wrenches his eyes shut, tries to focus on the tiny hum of his magic within his veins, trying to pinpoint it within his blood like Jimin had taught him. It’s impossible to separate the pleasure with the way Jimin fucks him hard, tugs at his nipples, counts down while Jeongguk sweats below him.

“Three.”

“Hyung, I-”

“Two.”

Jeongguk pictures that candle, pictures the one thing he’s felt has given him any feeling of control. The wick is unlit, and Jeongguk holds back his orgasm to let his magic fill the candle base, to glow bright purple, brighter and brighter until it was blinding, and he-

“One.”

He lights the candle.

Jeongguk feels needles explode up his feet and through his thighs. Gasping loudly, Jeongguk opens his eyes and watches as his thigh shifts and stretches, the bone and flesh altering just before his eyes.

“Oh my God.”

Jimin’s own smile is wide and gleaming, and he kisses Jeongguk breathless. “Zero, baby.”

“Do I still have a dick?” Jeongguk asks, answering his own question when he looks down to see slimmer thighs, the same pink boxers, cock hard against his abdomen. The thrill of successfully shifting lasts long enough until he remembers how much he’s absolutely aching, and he whines.

“You do.”

“Please touch my dick,” Jeongguk begs, so quickly the words bleed together.

With a laugh, Jimin drops his hand to Jeongguk’s cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts, building Jeongguk higher and higher until he finally, finally, comes with a sob of Jimin’s name. He spills white all over his stomach, Jimin keeping a hand on him, milking him for all he’s worth until Jeongguk was crying, tears staining his cheeks.

Jimin kisses them away softly, thrusting a handful of times before he comes himself, buried deep in Jeongguk’s ass, his nails biting into Jeongguk’s chest.

Jeongguk whimpers as he comes down, letting out a whine while Jimin puts his thigh back on the bed, leaning over his body to quickly untie the blindfold from Jeongguk’s wrists, all the while murmuring praises, calming Jeongguk down with soothing touches and kisses placed to his temple and hairline, soft fingers tracing the sensitive skin of his wrists.

“Did so well for me, baby,” Jimin is saying, kissing gently across Jeongguk’s jaw. He massages carefully at Jeongguk’s thighs. “So good, Jeongguk-ah, made hyung so proud.”

“Hyung.” Jeongguk smiles dopily, letting his head loll as he grins up at Jimin. “I did it.”

“You did,” Jimin agrees. He kisses Jeongguk again. “I’m so proud of you, this is a huge step.

“So I should get a reward?”

“Is that so?” Jimin reaches off the bed to discard the condom, and grabs Jeongguk’s shirt to wipe up the come and lube from Jeongguk’s skin. Jeongguk wrinkles his nose, and gets a kiss there in return. “I thought the orgasm was your reward.”

Jeongguk hums, taking full advantage of his free arms to wrap them around Jimin’s shoulders. He must be smaller than Jimin in this body, because Jimin feels heavy and bigger where he falls, laughing against Jeongguk’s chest. “I want ice cream.”

“I think we’ve still got some,” Jimin says, his voice muffled in Jeongguk’s shoulder. “But you need to shower first.”

Jeongguk groans and spends a good five minutes trying to convince Jimin they didn’t need to shower, showers were just a replacement for standing in the rain, but soon Jimin had him standing under the hot spray of the showerhead, lathering his hair with shampoo. Jeongguk feels sated and soft, letting Jimin move him every which way to clean him, and it’s odd for Jeongguk to have to look up to look at Jimin, but he kind of likes it.

“Who am I?” Jeongguk asks, sitting in the middle of Jimin’s bed while Jimin towels off his hair. He’d borrowed some of Jimin’s clothes, Taehyung’s proving to be obnoxiously big while Jeongguk’s in this form.

“Hm, I think you’re that kid Namjoon hyung was talking to in the library the other day. When you wanted to show off some of your pictures,” Jimin explains, tugging on a pair of sweats. Jeongguk silently mourns the loss of seeing Jimin’s ass. “Now come on, I think Tae bought some horrible birthday ice cream.”

True to his word, there’s a few weird flavors of ice cream in the freezer, and they curl up together on the couch, the TV on low, to eat. Jeongguk snuggles into Jimin’s hoodie, breathing in deeply as he leans back, and-

“What the fuck!”

Jeongguk nearly falls off the couch as Yoongi materializes on the end of the couch, where Jeongguk had been trying to lie back, “Stop yelling! Sheesh, seen a ghost or something?”

“How long have you been here!” Jeongguk presses his palm to his chest, willing his heart to slow down. He flushes furiously at the thought of Yoongi overhearing, well, anything.

“Not long,” Yoongi promises. “I was waiting for the all clear message, but Taehyung was close to buying three puppies so I had to get him out of there.”

As if on cue, Taehyung comes bouncing out of his bedroom, settling on the couch between Jeongguk and Yoongi and grabbing Jeongguk’s wrist to eat the melting ice cream off his spoon. “I’m so proud of you for shifting, Jeonggukie!”

Jeongguk eyes him suspiciously. “How’d you know?”

“Well, for one. You don’t look like you.”

“Oh.” Now Jeongguk just wants to pour this ice cream down his sweatshirt. It would probably be less embarrassing than this. “Right.”

“Still!” Taehyung hugs him close, nuzzling against the top of his head before settling in Yoongi’s arms. Now, Jeongguk can’t even imagine how he couldn’t notice Taehyung and Yoongi’s closeness. Yoongi’s fingers in his hair, Taehyung’s hand always on Yoongi, the fucking kiss Yoongi presses to the top of his head. “This is huge for you and we should celebrate this weekend. With cake.”

Jimin nudges Jeongguk lightly, having moved closer until Jeongguk was squished and warm between Jimin and Taehyung. “Think you can shift back?”

Jeongguk thinks about it, tries to gather his magic, but his body rejects his efforts almost immediately.

He shakes his head. “I think I’m still tired.”

“That’s fine,” Jimin assures him, offering a bite of his terrible overly chocolate ice cream. Jeongguk quickly eats it. “We’ll work on that.”

Taehyung ends up finishing off Jeongguk’s ice cream, and less than halfway through the movie Yoongi puts on, Jeongguk already finds himself falling asleep. His head jerks several times before Jimin pulls him onto his shoulder with a huff, fingers running lightly through his hair, and for the first time Jeongguk feels as though he’s actually moving forward with his magic.

Jeongguk shoves open the door, tossing his backpack somewhere and kicking his shoes in the direction of the kitchen. It’s Hoseok’s turn to cook tonight, and Jeongguk sent lots of sad eye emojis to get stir fry, and he’ll be here the minute Hoseok needs a taste tester. He’s in the process of wrestling off his jacket- Seokjin had gotten him one when the temperature started to drop and Jeongguk showed up in a jacket that was more holes than material. Jeongguk initially refused to accept it, a jacket that quality was way, /way/ more than he deserved, but Seokjin insisted and Jeongguk loved it and he’s almost found enough change on the ground to get Seokjin a venti from Starbucks.

“You’re home early.”

“Fuck!”

Jeongguk stumbles on his own shoe, his arm still stuck in his jacket, and he falls onto his ass with a wince. Jimin laughs where he’s hanging over the back of the couch, eyes scrunching cutely. He stands, offering a hand to help Jeongguk up.

“When I said I’d sweep you off your feet,” Jimin says, helping Jeongguk out of his jacket. “I was thinking more of a sex swing.”

“Oh my God,” Jeongguk whispers. “Shut up, what if Seokjin or Yoongi is home?”

“They have class,” Jimin says, curling his fingers through the loops on Jeongguk’s jeans to tug him close. “The others won’t be here for a while.”

Jimin has to stand on his tiptoes to reach Jeongguk’s lips, keeping his a breath away from Jeongguk’s. He’d shifted early that morning, scaring the shit out of his aunt when he woke up for breakfast, and again when he met Taehyung for lunch. He had no idea what the fuck he even looked like at this point, but with Jimin dipping his fingers beneath Jeongguk’s wastband, he didn’t really care.

“Do we have time?” Jeongguk asks, even though he knows the others all know what’s been going on. It’s pretty hard to hide it when Jimin really likes to mark up Jeongguk’s neck, or Jeongguk sobs too loudly when he comes, or Taehyung army crawls into the room to borrow Jimin’s phone charger while Jimin’s fucking Jeongguk within an inch of his life, humming the Avengers theme song as he crawls.

The secret hadn’t lasted long. Not that either of them truly tried to keep it a secret, but Jeongguk approached Yoongi to ask how he should ask someone else if they were sleeping with other people and Yoongi had told him Taehyung already spilled the beans. Which lead to a conversation of Yoongi telling Jeongguk the proper way to put on a condom while Jeongguk poked his fingers as far as he could in his ears, screaming until Seokjin came in to tell them to shut up, and then Hoseok to see what all the noise was, and the next thing he knew Taehyung was showing all of them how to put a condom on a banana using his mouth while Yoongi shoved a pillow over his lap, and-

It was all just a disaster, but Jimin finally cornered Jeongguk to say he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. And if Jeongguk wasn't either, they could do even more.

(Needless to say, Jeongguk wouldn’t choose anyone else over Jimin.)

“We have time,” Jimin assures him, biting on Jeongguk’s bottom lip and letting it go with a soft noise. “If you can be good.”

Jeongguk whimpers, bending his weirdly tall body to chase Jimin’s lips. “I can,” he says hurriedly, shoving his hands beneath Jimin’s shirt to palm at warm, soft skin. “I can-”

Jimin hums, moving one hand to squeeze Jeongguk’s ass. “Shift back to yourself and I’ll do that thing with my tongue.”

“Holy shit-”

Jeongguk shoves his hand on Jimin’s face, shutting his eyes and ignoring Jimin’s noise of surprise because he can’t focus when Jimin looks at him like that. Instead he collects his magic, pouring all the energy he can into emptying the candle and snuffing the wick, and he lets out a shout of relief when he feels himself shrink back to his own body.

Jimin is smiling when Jeongguk opens his eyes. Then he licks Jeongguk’s palm and cackles as Jeongguk complains very loudly.

“So.” Jeongguk looks hopefully through his bangs. “The tongue thing?”

With a laugh, Jimin fists a hand in the front of Jeongguk’s shirt, pulling him into a sloppy kiss and dragging him further into the apartment. Jeongguk’s brief internal debate of whose bed they were going to defile for this stalls when Jimin pulls a cock ring out of his pocket.

They don’t make it further than the couch.

“Jeongguk-ah, there’s a very handsome young man here to see you.”

“Yugyeom, I don’t have time-”

Jeongguk rounds the corner to find Taehyung and Jimin squeezed in the doorway. Behind them, he can see Seokjin trying to shoulder his way through, Namjoon is bowing deeply to Jeongguk’s aunt, and Jeongguk can /hear/ Yoongi and Hoseok complaining about the draft in the hallway.

“A whole crowd of handsome boys,” Jeongguk’s aunt says, ushering them all through the door. Their entryway is barely big enough for Jeongguk to get through comfortably, and watching his friends stumble their way inside reminds him of those videos of puppies that knock everything over in their excitement when their owner gets home.

“Thank you, miss Jeon,” Seokjin says, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss. Jeongguk grimaces. “You’re quite lovely, yourself.”

“Hyung!”

“Come in, all of you. I just made cookies.”

“They were all just leaving, actually.” Jeongguk tries to get his hands somewhere, /anywhere/, to shove them out, but Hoseok merely grabs his wrists, and guides Jeongguk further into the apartment.

“You have a lovely home, Miss Jeon,” Taehyung says, grinning. “But not as lovely as you.”

Jeongguk pulls on Taehyung’s ear. “Hyung, no.”

“What! Your aunt’s a beautiful woman-”

“Stop!”

Taehyung and Jimin duck under Jeongguk to get to the hallway, finding Jeongguk’s bedroom easily. Jeongguk squeaks, finding them poking through the notebooks he’d saved from high school.

Taehyung doesn’t even flinch as Jeongguk rips his middle school yearbook from his hands. “So, this is where you jerk it?”

“Hyung!” Jeongguk hisses, glancing out the door to make sure his aunt wasn’t nearby. Seokjin was laughing loudly, so he must be distracting her with jokes. “What are you guys even doing here? We weren’t supposed to hang out until later.”

“You’ve been to our places,” Jimin says, rifling through a stack of Polaroids Jeongguk kept on his shelf. They’re old and yellowing at the edges, the most recent one a crooked, blurry selfie of Jeongguk when he was eight or nine. Jimin frowns. “We wanted to see where our Jeonggukie grew up.”

“I didn’t grow up here- hyung!” Jeongguk rakes his hand through his hair. Taehyung was wrapping himself up in Jeongguk’s sheets. “Please get out of my bed.”

“Hell no. What brand is this? Yoongi’s bed feels like a pile of rocks, I can’t keep fucking in that bed I swear.” Taehyung shoves his hand beneath the pillow and to Jeongguk’s horror, pulls out one of his dildos. “Oh, damn. Jiminie’s not enough for you?”

Snickering, Taehyung tosses it at Jimin, who looks at it as if he’s disappointed. “We both know you can take more than this, Jeongguk.”

“I forgot that was there,” Jeongguk snatches it back. “Please get out.”

Taehyung rolls out of the bed, but Jimin has paused in front of the corkboard Jeongguk has up on his wall, staring at the pictures there. It’s mostly of scenery, or prints of paintings that Jeongguk really likes, but there’s a line of photos of Jeongguk and his aunt, strewn at the top, ranging from when Jeongguk was a child to six months ago.

“We take it every year,” Jeongguk says, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “On her birthday.”

“And yours?”

“We don’t.”

“What’s this?”

Jimin points to one picture, tucked in the corner haphazardly. Jeongguk has to step back. He’d forgotten it was there, because he’d tried to throw it away but his aunt hadn’t let him. Jeongguk, on the lap of a boy just two years older than him, a man and woman whose features he shares-

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But-”

Jeongguk tugs the picture, throwing it in the trash bin he keeps beneath his desk. “Don’t fuck with my shit.”

“Okay,” Jimin says carefully. Jeongguk can see Taehyung watching them hesitantly from the floor. Jimin carefully strokes down Jeongguk’s arm, apologizing quietly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, Jeongguk. Are these notes on your magic?” Taehyung pulled them from under the bed, and Jeongguk shrugs.

“I wasn’t exposed to magic properly, the most I could do was research at the local library and ask Google why I was so fucked up. I wrote down what I could, but none of it helped me learn any control.” Jeongguk doesn’t even recognize his handwriting in the notebook, words from so long ago, scouring the internet for anything that could explain why he shifted, why he wasn’t normal, why his family hated him. “It didn’t help, but it made me feel better.”

“I used to track every time I messed with the weather,” Taehyung says gently. “I wrote it down every single time. I get it, Jeonggukie.”

“Yeah.”

“Jeongguk!” His aunt calls him from the kitchen, and Jeongguk drops the notebook to kick it back under his bed. “Don’t hide in your room!”

“Coming!”

Pushing Jimin and Taehyung out of his room, they find Jeongguk’s aunt squished between Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin on the tiny couch. Namjoon, at least, had taken a seat on the floor. There was a plate of cookies on the coffee table, which Taehyung and Jimin immediately help themselves to.

“Thank you, auntie,” Jimin says around a mouthful.

“Please,” she waves his formalities away. “Call me Jieun. It’s rare that I meet one of Jeongguk’s friends. Now, tell me. Which one of you is Jimin? Jeongguk never stops talking-”

“Auntie!”

Jimin raises his hand, sheepish. “That would be me, ma’am.”

Jieun hums, tilting her head, before she smiles over at Jeongguk. “Very nice choice.”

Jeongguk hides his face in his hands. “Auntie, /please/.”

“Oh, Jeonggukie.” She reaches for him, to squeeze his hand. “Don’t be shy, let me thank the man helping my boy with his magic. Did you boys know I used to lose Jeongguk in the grocery store every week?”

“We lose him, too,” Namjoon admits. “Although, we can usually find him asleep in Seokjin hyung’s bed.”

“It’s the most comfortable,” Jeongguk whines.

“I think I have some pictures,” Jieun says. “Some photos of Jeongguk as a child. Jeongguk, grab the photo album out of the TV stand.”

“But-”

Seokjin stands, grinning widely as he walks to rifle through the drawer Jeongguk’s aunt had pointed to. “Well, I for one would love to see some Jeongguk naked baby butt.”

Jeongguk kicks his ankle and doesn’t feel guilty when Seokjin hisses in pain.

When Seokjin sits on the couch next to Jeongguk’s aunt, they share the book on both of their laps. Yoongi and Namjoon at least look a little sheepish, but the pictures prove too enticing, and soon all six of them are crowded around Jieun as she tells the story of the pictures on every page.

“This was his tenth birthday,” Jieun says. “He shifted into a girl from his after school care and covered his face in cake to try and hide.”

“And this,” she says, flipping another page. “The day Jeongguk learned to ride a bike. He fell and chipped one of his teeth, but I swear I’d never seen him smile this big before.”

Jieun’s smile softens. “He tried to bake a cake for my birthday and he forgot the sugar. We still ate it all, and got cupcakes the next morning on the way to school. He was only fourteen, but he promised never to bake for me again.”

“Ah, the infamous haircut before high school. He wore a hat every single day for the first month.”

Jeongguk tugs on his hair now, long enough to hide his eyes behind and curling a bit by his ears. His hyungs point to different pictures, asking for context, asking who he’d shifted into. Jeongguk hates those pictures the most, because while he has the memories, he’ll never see his own face in the pictures, and the memories will always feel awkward to him.

He sees the looks his friends send him, especially Jimin, while he’s sat on the floor with his knees to his chest. But his aunt looks so happy, an elated smile on her exhausted features, and Jeongguk doesn’t want to take that away from her. She hadn’t lied when she said Jeongguk never brought any friends over- the exception being Yugyeom, a friend from high school who’d caught Jeongguk shifting in the locker room and swore never to tell, but had gone to a different university- and she just seems so excited that Jeongguk doesn’t protest.

“This was the day they taught sex education,” Jieun laughs, and Jeongguk remembers that one. He’d tried to hide as soon as he got home from school, but his aunt had a habit of asking him about school, holding a full conversation about it, and she’d found Jeongguk’s mortification adorable, and had taken a picture to commemorate it.

“What’s this one?” Taehyung asks, pointing to another picture.

“His first university acceptance letter,” Jieun says, her expression softening.

Seokjin squeezes her shoulder. “I’m seeing a distinct lack of baby butt here.”

Jieun’s smile drops. “I don’t believe we have any photos of Jeongguk that young.” She flips through the rest of the pages, nodding. “I think the first one is his tenth birthday.”

“Why?” Jimin asks.

“Oh, um. Well. Jeonggukie came to live with me in Daejeon the winter after he turned nine, and he didn’t have any pictures.” Jieun tries to smile, but it’s flat and a little distanced. “Sorry-”

“Don’t apologize,” Namjoon says. “Don’t apologize for what you can’t control.”

Jeongguk presses his forehead to his knees.

“Will you be staying for dinner?” Jieun asks, after she’s finished the stories of the book. It’s gotten dark by now, and the plate of cookies was empty. The dog in the apartment upstairs must have smelled something, because it wouldn’t stop barking, ringing in Jeongguk’s ears as a headache pokes at his temple.

Jimin glances at Jeongguk. “We’re actually very late to train Jeongguk’s magic-”

“Oh!” Jieun stands, and urges all of them to their feet. “Of course. You’re all welcome for dinner anyday, and Jeongguk, you let me know if you’ll be late tonight, alright?”

Jeongguk nods, ducking his head as she ruffles his hair. “Yes, auntie.”

“Good. You boys better eat well tonight!”

Taehyung pulls her into a hug, Jieun laughing as she pats Taehyung’s back. When they break apart, Taehyung gestures to Yoongi and says, “If you’re ever free on Tuesdays, Yoongi and I like to go bowling sometimes. You should come.”

Jieun laughs again, pinching one of Taehyung’s cheeks. “You vile charmer, you.”

Smiling, Taehyung shrugs. “Only for the best, ma’am.”

It’s a whole spectacle to get all of them out of the apartment, seven grown men trying to get their shoes and coats and hats and gloves, and then they’re in the hallway. Jeongguk whacks Taehyung with his gloves.

“Ow!”

“That’s what you get for flirting with my aunt, weirdo.”

“What?” Taehyung hooks an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders. “What can I say, Jeonggukie? You certainly get your looks from her side of the family.”

Jeongguk nudges him away. “Whatever.”

“Hey.”

Namjoon stops him in the staircase with a hand on his arm, and doesn’t let go even as Jeongguk tenses. His hands are buried in his pockets, scarf pulled high around his neck, and without a word Namjoon brings him into a tight hug. He tucks his chin on the top of Jeongguks’ head, holding him close and tight and doesn’t say anything when Jeongguk’s breath hitches.

He knows he’s shaking, knows that it’s obvious, but no one points it out. Instead, one after the other, they join the hug. There, in a dirty, dimly lit staircase, six boys take Jeongguk into their arms to hold some of his pain. To help him, to carry him when the weight of the world becomes too much. Seokjin murmurs quietly in Jeongguk’s ear, and Yoongi holds his hand, and Hoseok strokes his hair, and Jimin squeezes his arm, and Taehyung kisses his temple and Jeongguk just lets himself feel.

There are wet spots on Namjoon’s collar when they all eventually break apart, but no one points them out. Yoongi’s gloves are soft on Jeongguk’s cheeks when he wipes his thumbs there. Jimin takes his hand.

Jeongguk leans his head against Jimin’s, and a minute later they set off for a nearby restaurant for dinner. They keep him close for the rest of the night, never asking anything from him, simply letting him know they were there. And, hopefully, that they weren’t going anywhere.

Months after beginning training with Jimin, Jeongguk has gotten very good at shifting back into himself. It’s still a hit or miss whether he’ll be able to shift from himself into someone else, but Jimin’s training has helped him to come back to himself several times. It’s a relief, mostly, knowing that if Jeongguk shifts in dangerous situations, he can change back.

But the good doesn’t last forever, and despite getting better at shifting back, Jeongguk still can’t control it. He still wakes up a few mornings a week in a body that is not his own, or he shifts in the middle of class and has to hide as best he can in the back row of the lecture hall, or he scares his aunt, or a child stares at him because his clothes are too big and he keeps tripping over them.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to, but as the cold weather comes in strong, he’s reminded of the first few times he shifted. How scared he was, the way his mother used to cry when he woke up in the morning and didn’t look like himself, or his father screaming until Jeongguk’s magic took control and changed him back, his brother on the phone saying yeah, I don’t get it. He’s a freak, so we can’t hang at my place-

He’s getting better, sure. But it’s not good enough.

It’s not good enough.

He looks at Namjoon, who can create life from his fingertips, who visits a nursing home every week to breathe life back into the wilting plants. He looks at Taehyung, who’s managed to learn how to manage snowfall properly. Or Yoongi, who despite not having full control of his own ability, never causes harm with an invisible leg. Hoseok, who can shift into anyone at anytime on a whim without getting sick, without staying in his ill-fitting clothes, or getting stuck. Seokjin, who recently traveled to Japan for a weekend to reunite two old lovers after finding a pendant in a pawnshop that told him a story.

Jeongguk looks at them, and sees everything he wishes he could be. He watches Taehyung get better and better with his control, watches the way Yoongi’s expression is so full of love and adoration whenever Taehyung switches the weather, or pushes away a typhoon, kissing him softly while Taehyung giggles against his lips.

Angry with himself, Jeongguk skips a few lessons or snaps at Jimin when he can’t shift. And he knows it’s not Jimin’s fault- Jimin is the only reason he has any semblance of control in the first place- but the weather is getting cold and the memories are sharp and Jeongguk falls asleep each night exhausted remembering overhearing his parents questioning if they should have him committed.

He’s not good enough.

Jeongguk knows that.

Snow falls softly outside the window, but Jeongguk doesn’t know if this storm is courtesy of Taehyung or not. He hadn’t checked the weather before leaving for class, shivering in the hoodie he’d pulled on after sleeping through his alarm. It’s beautiful, Jeongguk thinks, the soft white that blankets the ground.

On nights when his aunt works late, Jeongguk likes to spend his time at Seokjin and Yoongi’s apartment because it’s warm and there’s almost always a guarantee that all of his friends will be over at one point. He does this tonight, sitting on the floor by the window with his head against the glass, knees pulled tight to his chest. The apartment is high enough that Jeongguk can clearly see the kids walking home from cram school, making snowballs to throw at each other, but far enough that he’s not seen.

He remembers, inexplicably, the last snowfall he experienced in Busan.

Jeongguk hadn’t shifted in almost a week, and naively he’d believed it meant whatever was wrong with him had disappeared on its own. He begged his brother to take him to the park, to go sledding, and Jeongguk had shifted soon after they got there.

His brother left Jeongguk at the bottom of the hill and Jeongguk stayed there. His brother didn’t want him, his parents didn’t want him, what was the point of going home? He’d stayed there, coat soaked from the snow, until a neighbor found him on her way home from the store and brought him back to a house that hadn’t noticed his presence.

That was a week before everything changed for good.

The lock on the door beeps, and Seokjin’s distinctive laughter floods the room. Behind him, Jeongguk can hear people enter the apartment, kick off their shoes, loudly ask Seokjin to make them hot chocolate. They’re all here, Jeongguk realizes, but he keeps his gaze below, where a young girl slips on a small patch of ice and before she can even begin to cry, her father takes her into his arms and kisses her cheeks.

“Jeongguk?” The laughter trails off, and a moment later Namjoon is touching his knee, moving to sit in front of him. “Jeonggukie?”

“Thirteen years,” Jeongguk whispers, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Thirteen years ago today my parents kicked me out.”

“What the fuck?” Taehyung hisses, joining them on the floor. The others follow suit, hesitant to touch Jeongguk when he looks so fragile, when the smallest pressure could cause the fissures to crack for good. “What kind of fucked up people kick a child out?”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi warns gently.

Jeongguk shakes his head. He looks up briefly, meets everyone’s gaze one at a time and sees nothing but worry, unabashed concern, care, and maybe he’s projecting, but he thinks he sees love in their eyes. The glass is cold against his forehead. “They never… never officially said it. But I left.”

Hoseok’s hand is gentle in his hair. “Can we ask why?”

“Remember-” Jeongguk shudders through a deep breath, pressure heavy on his chest. He recalls the nightmares, waking up in the middle of the night, sleeping in his aunt’s bed for too many years, terrified they’d find him, turn him in, take his magic by force-

“Hey.” Seokjin’s voice is firm in his ear. Jeongguk finds his gaze, and matches Seokjin’s breathing. “You’re safe here, Jeongguk. Deep breaths, it’s okay.”

“You don’t have to tell us,” Yoongi assures him.

“We love you no matter what,” Jimin says.

“You’re our Jeonggukie.” Taehyung squeezes his elbow. “Our most precious friend.”

Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair, curling his fingers at the back of his scalp for something to ground himself. Namjoon seems to realize this, as not even a heartbeat passes before he takes Jeongguk’s free hand in both of his.

“Remember when I said I was the only magical person in my family?” Jeongguk asks, speaking more to Namjoon’s hands than to anyone in particular, but he knows that they’re listening. “It wasn’t… entirely true. My father’s older sister had control over fire. When I first started showing signs of magic, my parents refused to let my aunt see me because they believed it would go away on its own.”

“Bullshit,” Jimin spits.

Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. “They didn’t know, and they didn’t care to learn. Still, my aunt met with me at the mall a few times to promise that she’d help me.”

“It’s still unusual,” Namjoon says. “A shifter from a family with only one person with an affinity for an element? Are you sure your father doesn’t have magic?”

Snorting, Jeongguk nods. “Positive. She was his only sibling, so I guess there wasn’t enough magic in the genes to reach anyone but us. My aunt promised me that in the spring when the cold wasn’t hindering her fire, she’d begin to help me. And I was so tired of my parents trying to hide me, or my brother trying to provoke me into shifting to anger my father, that I clung to her promise. In the beginning of November, we went to the mall together, and a fire broke out.”

Jeongguk pauses, struggling to catch his breath as he recounts the day for the first time in years. They’d visited the pet store in the mall, and when Jeongguk asked if they could get a dog, his aunt had laughed and promised they would as soon as they trained his magic. They shared pretzels, and his aunt bought him a pair of snow boots because his parents hadn’t bothered to. They were heading out, when-

“The fire started on the opposite side of the mall,” Jeongguk explained, his voice small and lifeless. “We were leaving. It was close to dinner time and my parents still didn’t know I was spending time with her.”

The way she’d held his shoulders and told him to run, to wait outside, she would be right out, she’d come back, she promised to come back-

“Jeongguk-”

But Jeongguk shakes his head, leaning into someone’s touch on his cheek. “She told me to run, told me to get outside and far away from the building while she dealt with the fire. The official reports said it was a cigarette from behind the building, but a cigarette doesn’t cause something like that.”

He wonders if they remember the story, if they read it in the paper or saw it on the news.

“I waited for her,” Jeongguk says, choking on the weight in his chest. “I waited. The police and fire departments came, and I waited. It took hours, but one of the cops got me to give my information, and he waited with me until my parents arrived. When they wheeled the bodies out, my father had to ID his sister in the parking lot and he made me stand with him.”

Jimin tenses, opening his mouth to curse, but Taehyung shushes him gently, encouraging Jeongguk to continue with a squeeze to his wrist.

“My father was… furious, to say the least. He blamed me for what happened to her-”

“Fuck him,” Jimin spits, shaking off the hand Namjoon puts on his shoulder. “What kind of asshole blames their young child for something like that? I can’t fucking believe you had to live in that family.”

“It’s okay, hyung-”

“No, it’s not-!”

“Jimin!” Seokjin hisses. “Enough. Don’t do this now.”

Jeongguk drops his hand from his hair, reaching out to link his fingers with Jimin’s and offering a weary smile. “For three days, I overheard my parents fighting over what to do. My father was already angry about my magic, and he was angry about what happened to his sister, and he- he suggested they contact one of the doctors that swore they could take away someone’s magic. My mother was appalled, she thought I just needed to be hospitalized until whatever bad omen I had left. They even talked about sending me to America because they’d overheard people saying there were doctors there who could make these kinds of problems disappear.”

The room is silent, everyone’s anger simmering just beneath the surface. Jeongguk doesn’t look at any of them, staring at the heavy snowfall. He doesn’t see the familiar streets anymore, mind plagued by the image of his aunt burnt almost past the point of recognition. Thoughts heavy with his father’s screams, cursing Jeongguk, blaming him, saying if Jeongguk had never been born their family wouldn’t be cursed.

Seokjin moves, forcing himself between Jeongguk’s back and the wall, legs wide to accommodate Jeongguk’s body as Seokjin pulls him close, arms tight around him. Jeongguk lets himself be shaken a little, finds himself smiling.

“I packed a bag and left after the third night of their arguing,” Jeongguk continues, his smile falling. “It snowed that night and I slept on a park bench. They never came looking for me, and I never went home.”

“Jeongguk,” Yoongi whispers, horrified. “How… How did you not freeze?”

“I’d sneak into the bathrooms in the park before they were locked for the night,” Jeongguk shrugs. “Not much better, but at least there wasn’t any wind. I’d take snacks when the parents at the park weren’t looking. My aunt, Jieun, found me there after a week, and brought me with her to Daejeon. As far as I know, she’s never told my parents that I’m with her. I don’t even think they know I’m alive.”

“How did she find you?” Seokjin asks.

Shrugging again, Jeongguk lets out a very heavy breath. “I’m not sure. She was visiting my mom but I was just so happy to get out of Busan that I didn’t question it.”

“Jeongguk-ah.” Hoseok says, his hand soft in Jeongguk’s hair. “I’m so, so sorry that you had to live with that.”

“It’s fucked up,” Jimin agrees. “Magic is far more common than any mortal thinks, but to condemn your own child? Don’t have a child if you’re not going to accept them for who they are, why is that so fucking hard to understand?”

“Hyung, it’s okay-”

Namjoon shakes his head. “It’s not, Jeongguk. I’m incredibly grateful that you have Jieun-ssi, but you didn’t deserve any of that.”

“No, hyung, it’s-” Jeongguk twists his wrist to hold one of Namjoon’s, squeezing gently. “My whole life, I wondered what I had done wrong to make my family hate me. I felt like a burden to my aunt every year she worked extra hours just to buy me one gift for my birthday. My whole life I’ve felt like an outsider and a freak, I felt like I had no one, but-” Jeongguk blinks back tears, sees them reflected in Namjoon’s eyes, sees Hoseok wipe his cheeks. “I lost them, but I found you guys. I found my own family.”

Taehyung chokes on a sob, pitching forward to hug Jeongguk tightly, shoving his face in Jeongguk’s neck. Seokjin squeezes him until Jeongguk can’t breathe, and Namjoon brings Jeongguk’s hand to his lips. Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi get closer, too, and even though there’s really not enough room for all of them on the floor by the window, they make it work.

They make it work, all these pieces come together into one gorgeous puzzle. Jeongguk isn’t perfect- none of them are- but Jeongguk has felt lost for most of his life, felt like he had no one on his side. Finding his friends has been, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to him. His aunt may tease him about it, about his smile whenever she asks about the rest of the boys, but he can’t deny it. They’re his family, and he hopes they want him around for as long as possible.

“Oh, Jeonggukie,” Taehyung’s voice warbles. “You’re ours, our Jeonggukie.”

Hands on Jeongguk’s cheeks make him look up to find Jimin, expression soft and vulnerable and open. He thumbs away Jeongguk’s tears and promises, “We’re on your side, Jeongguk. No matter what happens, we’ve got your back.”

“You are my son now,” Seokjin says.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk laughs, his voice tapering on a whine. “That’s weird.”

Jeongguk’s parents told him his magic caused their family problems. His aunt never made him feel out of place, but on her own there was nothing she could do for his ability. His friends, Jimin, fill the holes he’d tried to plug up. For years, Jeongguk hid himself away, scoured the deepest portals of the internet to see if there was a way to remove his magic, patching his holes to try and keep himself together on the outside, but with his friends, with these incredible people around him, Jeongguk doesn’t have to patch the holes.

He doesn’t have to patch himself, because they help to fill the parts of him that are empty with love and support instead of negativity and hatred. Where he once felt like lead, Jeongguk now feels like flowers grow in his chest, growing in the direction of the six beams of sunlight that blind him.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi says softly. “Has anyone told you that your eyes hold galaxies?”

Jeongguk laughs along to a chorus of groans and complaints, Taehyung and Jimin immediately complaining that’s too much, hyung, you’re such a cheese while Hoseok pretends to gag. Seokjin hides his face in Jeongguk’s neck, and Namjoon rolls his eyes hard enough to hurt, while Taehyung asks why Yoongi will compliment Jeongguk’s eyes unprompted but will only compliment Taehyung when he’s invisible.

Seokjin makes them all hot chocolate and they stay seated by the window, talking quietly about their respective days until it gets dark outside and their bellies rumble with hunger. Seokjin holds Jeongguk, Jimin still holding his hand, while Namjoon and Yoongi make Jeongguk’s favorite for dinner, and Seokjin doesn’t even complain when Jeongguk curls up in his bed for the night.

(That weekend, they have dinner at Jeongguk’s place. Seokjin takes lead on the cooking, and they surprise Jeongguk’s aunt with a huge meal and a tiered cake, and a new Poloroid camera because Taehyung remembered that Jeongguk’s had been old and breaking. Jieun is ecstatic, can’t stop asking questions about Jeongguk’s friends and listens raptly to the funny stories they tell about Jeongguk. Before the night ends, they take a picture all together, and Jeongguk sticks it in the middle of his cork board, his smile refusing to fade for the rest of the night.)

“Fuck, marry, kill: Captain Marvel, Groot, or Thor.”

“Uh, definitely fuck Captain Marvel,” Jeongguk says. “Because I know her strap is big and she’d take care of me. Marry Groot, kill Thor.”

“Marry Groot?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide. “You’d marry a tree? I’m not surprised.”

“Exactly! I’d marry Groot because he won’t complain when I keep going back to get pegged by Captain Marvel.” Jeongguk steals some of Seokjin’s fries. “What about you?”

“Fuck Thor,” Seokjin says immediately. “Peg him so hard he cries.”

“You’re weird.”

Seokjin slaps him lightly on the back of his head, dragging his bar food away like he isn’t going to share anymore. It only takes a minute of Jeongguk pouting before Seokjin moves it back, and they come up with more potential combinations of characters.

Ever since the first night they brought Jeongguk to the bar, he’s stopped by occasionally on the nights they set aside exclusively for those with magic. Sometimes, if he shifts he’ll stop by during the week to see if Taehyung’s around, but he mostly comes at the end of the week because he likes to see all the different people come together, a collection of magical abilities and the beauty of it all. One of the female bartenders when Taehyung doesn’t work gives Jeongguk drinks that change his hair color or eye color and he loves it.

It’s still early tonight, so Jimin had joined Taehyung behind the bar to help set up. He’d gotten bored after wiping down a few bottles and started melting the ice as Taehyung brought the buckets up, giggling as Taehyung threw ice cubes down his shirt in retaliation. Yoongi was around somewhere, had stepped behind the bar to find Jimin melting the ice into water only to freeze it again before it hit him when Taehyung threw a bucket full, and turned right around.

“Okay, Jeonggukie. Seokjin.” Taehyung drops two bright colored shots before them, a grin on his lips. “Try these, tell me what you think.”

Jimin’s hanging off his back, winking when Jeongguk sniffs the shot and smells pineapple even though he knows there’s nothing pineapple behind the bar. Taehyung was still experimenting with fairy dust, but he swore he was close to getting a product on the market.

Jeongguk clinks his shot with Seokjin’s, downing it quickly. He coughs. “It tastes like cough medicine.”

“Prescription or store bought?”

“Uh. Store bought?”

“Dammit. Fuck. Shitting fuck. Quit laughing, Jimin! You’re the one who added the wrong blend!”

Jimin leans over the bar, pouring out a couple shots while Taehyung isn’t looking. “Here, this’ll help with the aftertaste.”

“My mouth tastes like ash,” Jeongguk whines.

“Fairy dust is finicky.” Jimin agrees, taking the shot with Jeongguk and Seokjin.

The bar fills slowly, Seokjin ordering more food for them to share while Yoongi dips behind the bar to quickly kiss Taehyung goodbye. He’s recently picked up a radio gig with late, sometimes overnight hours and Taehyung, although completely supportive, has missed him a lot.

Throughout the night, Taehyung drops off different cocktails and shot mixtures that he’s still trying out but hasn’t put on the menu yet, and Jimin gets progressively more tipsy until Taehyung has to kick him out from behind the bar. He takes the open seat beside Jeongguk, hand on his thigh.

“Jimin-ah, would you fuck Thor?”

Jimin shrugs, leaning around Jeongguk to look at Seokjin. “I’d rather rail Loki.”

“Neither of you are free from sin,” Jeongguk says flatly.

“Oh?” Jimin tucks Jeongguk’s hair behind his ear, a grin tugging at his features. “And what about you, what with what you were begging me for last week-”

“Hyung!” Jeongguk, panicking, slaps his hand over Jimin’s mouth. Jimin licks his palm, and Jeongguk grimaces as he wipes the spit on Jimin’s cheek. “Go away, the girl with lizard eyes is back and I want her to like me.”

“But Jeonggukie-” Jimin whines, nuzzling his face in Jeongguk’s neck.

The fairy dust sits warm in Jeongguk’s belly, and despite his own words, he knocks his head light against Jimin’s and watches as Jimin uses his air magic to mess with the straws in people’s drinks until Taehyung catches him and threatens to pour ice down his shirt.

Taehyung must have done something new with his drinks tonight, since the last few times Jeongguk hung out here, the lights had become sharper and more vibrant, and the alcohol would hit him fast and hard. Tonight, he just feels soft and warm, the colors muted and blurred when Jeongguk lifts his heavy head to look around. On either side of him, Seokjin and Jimin are arguing over something he can’t keep up with, but he recognizes the name of an anime Jimin recently got hooked on and decides he’s better off not knowing. Taehyung mixes drinks three or four at a time, occasionally holding a glass out for Jimin to breathe fire onto, much to the delight of customers.

“Jeongguk-ah.” Jimin squeezes his thigh, lips brushing his ear to be heard over the loud music. The girl with the lizard eyes had just come up with a handshake for them. “Let’s get out of here.”

“‘Kay.”

“Tae, babe, we’re leaving,” Jimin says.

Taehyung doesn’t look up from where he’s tossing a bottle behind his back, putting on a show for one of the memory witches who stops by when she’s in town. “Where’s my goodbye kiss?”

Giggling, Jimin stands on the edge of the bar when Taehyung finishes garnishing the drink, planting his hands to lean over and press a kiss to Taehyung’s nose and then a soft one to the corner of his mouth. Jeongguk watches the soft way Taehyung holds Jimin’s chin, strokes soft fingertips on Jimin’s cheek, the soft, wet noise when they separate, and feels an ache settle deep in his bones. Taehyung makes them promise to let him know they’re home safe, and tells Jimin he’ll probably go to the radio station after close and not to wait up.

Jeongguk grabs their coats and together they leave, the air outside the bar frigid with the promise of snow later. Jeongguk stands just outside the door, his cheeks and nose stinging with the cold, and wonders if he can convince Taehyung to make a snowstorm deep enough that they could go sledding at the park near the university and get a day off from class. Jimin makes it to the end of the street before realizing Jeongguk hasn’t followed, and he makes a noise of surprise when he realizes Jeongguk doesn’t have gloves.

“I lost them,” Jeongguk explains, as Jimin tugs off his right hand glove and gives it to Jeongguk. “Last time I shifted. Her hands were so tiny they slipped right off, and I was too focused on getting out of the market to notice.”

Jimin frowns, curling his fingers between Jeongguk’s and pulling their ungloved hands into his jacket pocket. “We’re going to get it, Jeongguk. If someone like Namjoon, who used to be one of the clumsiest people you could ever meet, could learn and grow and develop his magic so well that he hasn’t broken a single flower pot in years, you’re going to be fine. If it takes years, so be it. But one day Jeonggukie, I promise you’ll be shifting quickly and easily and you won’t lose your gloves.”

“That sounds nice, hyung.”

Jimin uses his magic to warm their hands, keeping Jeongguk’s in his pocket even after they’ve given up on walking and flagged down a cab instead. Jeongguk’s aunt was enjoying her day off from work and Jeongguk didn’t want to bother her, so they head to Jimin’s place, lying against each other in the back of the cab.

They’re still more than a little tipsy, and it gives Jeongguk a headache to stare out the window where the lights blur and the fairy dust makes his eyes cross, so instead he keeps his focus on Jimin’s profile. The cute slope of his nose, the delicate curl of his eyelashes, his plump and glossy lips. Jeongguk wants to kiss him. Jeongguk wants to kiss him so badly it hurts, but they’ve never kissed outside of sex or foreplay and Jeongguk knows they don’t have what he and Taehyung have.

“You’re staring,” Jimin murmurs, brushing his thumb over the back of Jeongguk’s hand. Their hands are still in Jimin’s pocket. Jeongguk hopes Jimin can’t feel how sweaty his hand is.

“You have a giant booger.”

“Hey!”

Jeongguk giggles, falling even further into Jimin as Jimin grumbles and discreetly tries to wipe at his nose. Jimin elbows him, but pulls him close again by their linked hands. “You’re the worst, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk is still laughing as Jimin pays the cab driver and drags him out of the car, feeling loopy as they make it up the stairs. He greets the houseplant in the window as he unties his shoes, a habit he’s picked up from spending time with Namjoon. They lose their coats easily, and though it’s not too late in the night, Jeongguk curls a hand in the front of Jimin’s lilac sweater to kiss him softly.

They trip over discarded shoes and Jeongguk gets his foot tangled in a sweater of his that he doesn’t even remember leaving here, but Jimin laughs gently against his lips and pulls Jeongguk in deeper, his lips a tether that have Jeongguk hooked. He doesn’t ever want to let go, Jimin’s lips like a drug he could live hooked on for the rest of his days. Jimin tugs Jeongguk’s t-shirt off and drops it on his bedroom floor, urging Jeongguk gently on his bed.

Jimin follows, careful not to break their kiss as he kneels over Jeongguk’s body, his hands tracing reverent patterns across Jeongguk’s chest. The bed is soft, blankets strewn messily around Jeongguk’s body because Jimin had been up early to hit the gym before Kendo practice, but that’s on the back of Jeongguk’s mind in this moment as Jimin continues to kiss him softly, lips parting each time with a soft sound that leaves Jeongguk breathless. Each time he thinks it couldn’t possibly get any better, Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip or licks between his lips and Jeongguk whines a broken symphony.

“So pretty,” Jimin murmurs, nipping at the shell of Jeongguk’s ear. His fingers dance across Jeongguk’s stomach. “Such a pretty boy.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whines, tilting to chase Jimin’s mouth as Jimin diverts his path to trail kisses across Jeongguk’s jaw.

Jimin hushes him, scratching lightly at his hip bone. He presses a soft kiss to Jeongguk’s mouth to placate him. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

“Please-”

It’s a slow process, the way that Jimin kisses down Jeongguk’s chest, licking over his nipples and giggling quietly at the way Jeongguk tenses before exhaling a soft moan. He makes it to the waistband of Jeongguk’s jeans and, again, slowly undoes the button before pulling Jeongguk’s jeans and boxers off to join their clothes on the floor. He lets Jeongguk watch as he removes his own clothes, the sweater wrinkling something horrible as Jimin drops it to the floor.

Ignoring his half-hard cock lying against his thigh, Jimin kisses back up to find Jeongguk’s mouth, waiting and warm and open. Jeongguk can’t help but touch, seeking out warm skin, the smooth expanse of Jimin’s back, nails digging into his ass when Jimin softly tweaks a nipple between his fingers.

“Is this-” Jeongguk tilts his head into Jimin’s kisses below his ear, a spot he hadn’t realized was so sensitive before Jimin. “Is this another training exercise?”

Jimin hums, his hands warm where he cups Jeongguk’s cheeks. He kisses him once, twice, a third time just for luck. “Hm, no. Just want to kiss you, baby.”

Jeongguk is more than happy with that. Sucking Jimin’s bottom lip between his teeth, he spreads his legs and Jimin settles more comfortably between them. Before, when Jeongguk’s hookups were relegated just to quick, messy escapades in a dark bedroom of a frat house, he never found much pleasure in kissing. It felt unnecessary to him, when his goal was to get off and he needed to do it as fast as possible in case he shifted, but with Jimin…

With Jimin, Jeongguk finds a renewed love for something so simple as kissing, or sharing a bed, or even just sharing a quiet moment with someone he’s comfortable with. Jimin makes him feel small in a delightful way, and is so good at taking Jeongguk apart to pleasure him, but he’s also skilled at just. Being with Jeongguk. Just settling between his thighs and kissing Jeongguk until he’s dizzy with it, until all he can feel is Jimin’s lithe body on his, Jimin’s hands in his hair, on his cheeks, his chest, his hip, Jimin’s breath shared between them because neither wants to quit kissing. It’s terrifying and intoxicating at the same time, and Jeongguk can’t get enough.

He whines when Jimin pulls away, tries to bring him close again but Jimin stops him with a hand on his chest and a low chuckle. “Can hyung use your mouth, pretty?”

“Fuck- yeah-”

Jimin gives him another kiss before he moves, crawling up Jeongguk’s body and turning so he straddles Jeongguk’s chest. Jeongguk gets the hint pretty quickly, spreading Jimin’s cheeks with his hands as Jimin lowers himself. An eager noise slips past Jeongguk’s lips as he noses at Jimin’s skin, body practically shaking with need.

“Go ahead, Jeongguk-ah.”

Groaning, Jeongguk licks at Jimin’s hole, dizzy with the overwhelming scent and taste, the delectable pressure of Jimin sitting over his face. He keeps his knees on either side of Jeongguk, spread wide to make it easier for Jeongguk to lick around Jimin’s rim, wetting it thoroughly.

Above him, Jimin moans softly, shifting to find an angle that’s easier on his knees. Jeongguk just drags his teeth over the smooth skin of Jimin’s ass, drowning in it. He works his mouth slowly, almost lazily over Jiimin’s hole, licking and sucking and taking his time ensuring that Jimin feels good, feels even better than Jeongguk does. And though he knows it’s a little irrational, he almost wants to pay Jimin back for all the times he’s made Jeongguk feel good, and for all the help with his magic, and he’ll eat Jimin’s ass to make that happen.

“Good hyung?” Jeongguk asks, pulling back just a little.

“So good, baby.” Jimin presses a kiss to Jeongguk’s stomach, runs his hands over Jeongguk’s skin to make him shiver. “Making hyung feel good.”

Jeongguk dives back in, squeezing Jimin’s ass against his face until they’re both giggling. He’s slow about it, but finally Jeongguk licks a few fat stripes over Jimin’s ass before thrusting his tongue inside. He doesn’t worry much for finesse, drool and spit dripping down his chin almost obscenely.

He doesn’t mind, not when Jimin’s making the sweetest little noises, arching his back, trying to grind down on Jeongguk’s face. He wishes he could see it, see the way Jimin directs his pace in time with the turn of his hips, but this is fine. Jeongguk likes this, the easy way they fall into each other, the soft way Jimin touches him like a prized book filled with delicate pages- until he gets a hand around Jeongguk’s cock, and Jeongguk shudders so violently he nearly sends both of them tumbling off the bed.

Jimin laughs, petting Jeongguk’s hip as a silent apology, and then Jeongguk moans right into Jimin’s ass at the wet warmth that envelops his cock. Jimin holds his dick, tonguing lazily over his length and suckling at the tip, making Jeongguk moan and whine, bucking his hips to chase the feeling.

“Calm down,” Jimin says, as he pulls off Jeongguk’s dick. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. Just want you to feel good.”

Whimpering, Jeongguk throws himself back into the task at hand. He thrusts his tongue as far as he can into Jimin’s hole, crying out as Jimin swallows down his cock, back arching with the stretch. Jimin pulls off, spitting on his palm to jerk off what he doesn’t take into his mouth, and Jeongguk shivers. He loses his pace almost immediately, trying to focus on making Jimin feel good, but it’s difficult when Jimin plays idly with the tip of his dick, pinches it between two fingers, rubs his palm over the glistening head until Jeongguk keens.

“Hyung-”

Jimin only giggles, pressing a kiss to the side of Jeongguk’s dick that feels anything other than chaste. “Don’t get distracted, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jimin rolls his hips down and Jeongguk chases it, licking desperately into Jimin’s hole. Gone is his feeling of simplicity and ease, replaced instead with a simmering desire for more, but Jimin doesn’t give it to him easily. He alternates between suckling the tip and playing with Jeongguk’s cock while Jeongguk drools and whines and eats Jimin’s ass like his last meal.

It gets too overwhelming, until Jeongguk can’t focus on anything more than chasing Jimin’s touch on his cock. He jerks up into the touch, desperately trying to buck his hips even with Jimin’s weight on his body. Jimin keeps it slow, keeps Jeongguk on the edge, shushes him when his whines get too loud.

“Hyung, please-”

“Please what, baby?”

“Please-”

“Does it feel too good?” Jimin giggles at Jeongguk’s choked off moan, licking up Jeongguk’s cock. “Baby wants to come?”

Keening, Jeongguk throws his head back as Jimin sucks down his cock again, bobbing his head. Jeongguk tightens his grip on Jimin’s ass, chasing the feeling of Jimin’s mouth and giving up entirely on his task until Jimin pulls off, strokes Jeongguk’s cock softly, and murmurs, “Come for me, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jeongguk’s orgasm washes over him softly, and he comes into Jimin’s mouth with a quiet moan of his name. Jimin pulls off, moving quickly to turn himself around, gripping Jeongguk’s jaw with two fingers, Jeongguk’s lips slack and mouth open as he breathes heavily. Without a word, Jimin opens his own mouth to let Jeongguk’s come spill into Jeongguk’s mouth, making Jeongguk shiver and moan.

“Hold it,” Jimin tells him, nipping at Jeongguk’s jaw. He feels dizzy, delirious as though Jimin had whipped him and not just gently sucked him off. “Good boy. Swallow.”

Jeongguk does, sticking his tongue out when he’s done so Jimin could check. He gets a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Can-Can we still? Touch me?”

“More?” Jimin kisses him, drags his mouth over Jeongguk’s flushed cheeks and sweaty cheeks. “That’s greedy.”

Whining, Jeongguk chases Jimin’s lips, wanting nothing more than to be kissed and to be touched and wanting no one else but Jimin to do just that. “Please? Please, I can- I’ll suck you off-”

“It’s okay, Jeongguk.” Jimin puts both hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, gently pressing him back into the mattress when he moves to get to his knees. “Hyung will take care of it, you just relax.”

With that, Jimin gives him another kiss before leaning to his nightstand, grabbing the lube and a condom. Jeongguk lets himself melt into the mattress, brushing his hair away from his eyes, huffing in frustration as it flops right back onto his forehead. Maybe Seokjin has some hair ties he can use, or he can borrow one of Yoongi’s bandanas the next time he’s at their place. Or, he’s seen Taehyung using hair clips lately when he’s got to focus on an art project or a writing assignment, or-

“Oh shit-”

Jeongguk gasps, back arching off the bed as Jimin pushes a slick finger into his hole. “Pay attention to me, Jeonggukie.” He pouts, using his best whiny voice, and it makes Jeongguk laugh.

Raking his fingers through Jimin’s hair, Jeongguk tugs him close for a kiss. He doesn’t move too far when they pull apart, thrusting his finger shallowly into Jeongguk’s asshole. “Always, hyung.”

Placated, Jimin kisses his nose before pulling his finger out, adding a little more lube, and pushing two more in. He’s slow about it, nosing along the column of Jeongguk’s neck as he fingers him as if he were something delicate, something beautiful and effervescent to be momentarily cherished and remembered forever. It hurts at first, Jeongguk still sensitive from his earlier orgasm, but Jimin’s soft words and even softer hands on his skin make it better, always make things better for Jeongguk.

Two fingers slowly becomes three, Jimin taking his sweet time with Jeongguk. Even as Jeongguk’s cock hardens fully on his thigh, he doesn’t feel a pressing need. He sighs in pleasure, legs having fallen open for Jimin, tilting his head into the pillow as he moans softly. Jimin presses the pads of his fingers against Jeongguk’s prostate, rubbing there to make Jeongguk’s hips kick, make him groan Jimin’s name, make him squirm.

Jeongguk could almost fall asleep like this, pleasure thrumming gently beneath his skin as Jimin takes his time taking Jeongguk apart. Jimin kisses at his neck, nibbles gently on his ear, murmuring, “My pretty pillow prince,” and Jeongguk giggles in response.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk says sometime later. He’d lost track of how long Jimin played with him, how much time had passed with Jimin leisurely fingering him. “Hyung, m’close.”

Humming, Jimin sucks lightly on his bottom lip. His own hardness presses against Jeongguk’s thigh, but he’s denied each time Jeongguk offered to help. It gets Jeongguk’s blood hot, knowing Jimin’s hard just from making Jeongguk feel good. “Hold on, let me get inside you. I’m not going to last, baby. Not with you looking so-”

“So what, hyung?” Jeongguk grins, holding Jimin’s neck in his palms.

“So fucking delicious.”

Jeongguk tries to hide his face in his pillow, embarrassment painting his cheeks bright red, but it’s hard to hide when it feels as though Jimin is everywhere, seeing everything. It doesn’t help that Jeongguk can’t hide when he’s on his back like this.

He settles for pinching Jimin’s nipple, laughing as Jimin lets out a yelp of pain and bites at Jeongguk’s neck in response. They laugh together, until Jeongguk shifts, moaning at the press of Jimin’s fingers and it reminds both of them of the more important matters at hand.

Jeongguk stretches his neck as Jimin pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the sheets and tearing open the condom. Rolling it over his length, Jimin pours more lube onto his palm to slick himself up, and jostles Jeongguk into a better position, his legs splayed over Jimin’s thighs. Jeongguk sighs, hole loose and wet, squirming a little as Jimin dips his thumb inside, stretching him open.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whines, petulant.

It makes Jimin laugh, gripping his cock by the base to guide it to Jeongguk’s loose hole, pressing in without preamble. Jeongguk moans, tilting his head back as Jimin pushes his thighs further apart, thrusting into him gently.

Starkly different from how they usually do this, Jimin doesn’t immediately build a bruising pace, nor does he close his hand around Jeongguk’s throat, instead he just. He lightly scratches his nails over the taut skin of Jeongguk’s thighs as he thrusts slowly, gently. Jeongguk matches him, rolling his hips down to meet Jimin each time he pushes in deep, brushing Jeongguk’s prostate each time. He uses his hold on Jeongguk’s thighs to pull almost all the way out, letting Jeongguk feel the delicious drag of his length, before repeating.

“Jimin-” Jeongguk moans out loud, clutching the sheets in his fists.

“That’s it baby.” Jimin kisses his cheek, the tip of his nose, and his temple. “You take it so well, so pretty for me.”

“Hyung.” Jeongguk curls his legs around Jimin’s waist, pulling him closer. His cock was beginning to ache, begging to be touched, but he knew better than to touch on his own. “Kiss me.”

Jimin does, leaning down to connect their lips in a sweet kiss as he rolls his hips deep against Jeongguk’s. It’s slow, each thrust punching a moan deep from Jeongguk’s chest, which Jimin eagerly swallows with each press of their lips.

He knows neither of them is going to last, Jimin had said as much before he even got his dick inside of Jeongguk, and Jeongguk felt as though he’d been on edge since he recovered from his first orgasm, but Jimin doesn’t speed up. He doesn’t chase a fleeting high, instead he builds their pleasure, draws out their kisses, smoothing his hands over Jeongguk’s chest and hips and down to his ass to press his fingers where they’re joined.

Jeongguk curls his fingers in the hair at the nape of Jimin’s neck, holding him close as they breathe against each other, move in tandem with each other. Jimin’s lips glisten, his cheeks flushed with exertion.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles against Jimin’s lips. “Wanna come. Wanna come, hyung, please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, baby.”

Jimin finds Jeongguk’s hand, curling their fingers together and holding Jeongguk’s hand above his head. He brings his other hand to Jeongguk’s cock, smearing the precum to jerk him off softly, in rhythm with his thrusts. Jeongguk squirms, overwhelmed with sensation, feels Jimin everywhere- above him, around him, inside him- and it’s almost too much.

Squeezing Jimin’s hand, their joined fists denting the pillow by Jeongguk’s head, Jeongguk arches into Jimin, moaning loudly against Jimin’s lips as he finally comes, quivering as Jimin strokes him through it. He’s shaking, oversensitive and rung dry, crying out as Jimin finally comes, spilling deep into the condom.

For a few moments, neither of them move. Jimin tenderly runs his thumb across the outside of Jeongguk’s hand, both of them breathing heavily on the other’s lips. Jeongguk opens his eyes, not having realized he’d closed them when his pleasure reached its crescendo. He stares at Jimin, at the pleasure that makes him glow, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he comes down from his own high.

Jeongguk squeezes his hand.

“Come on,” Jimin says eventually. They’re incredibly slow about breaking apart, Jimin taking great care as he pulls his soft cock out, tying off the condom. He finds a bottle of water in the mess of his bedsheets and offers it to Jeongguk. “Yoongi hyung gave Taehyungie a bunch of bath bombs, and I have soulmate privileges to use whichever I want.”

“Carry me.”

Jimin laughs, bringing him close to kiss his forehead. “Fine, you big baby.”

They draw a hot bath, Jimin settling behind Jeongguk and pulling him close. He washes Jeongguk’s hair, the water a warm mix that’s meant to look like a galaxy, and Jeongguk takes great delight in swirling his hand through the water to watch the stars dance.

Jeongguk shifts while they’re still in the bath, but he’s warm and dozing off in Jimin’s strong arms, Jimin playing with his hair while he sings quietly, just for Jeongguk. Occasionally Jimin’s song drifts off for a few seconds before he’s pressing a soft kiss to the nape of Jeongguk’s neck and picking up his song where he left off. Jeongguk doesn’t even mind shifting, not like this.

“Hyung.”

”Yeah?”

“Please come get me.”

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, a sense of urgency bleeding into his tone. “Where are you?”

“At the park,” Jeongguk replies, fumbling with his phone in his tiny hand. “Um. Not the one by campus.” He pauses, glancing at the gaggle of kids who were shooting him funny looks for his oversized clothes. “I don’t know where I am. I turned into a kid.”

There’s the sound of a door slamming, keys jingling, and Jimin curses. Jeongguk wonders if he ran into a wall again. “Send me the location, I’ll be right there.”

Jeongguk struggles to pocket his phone, making a face as it weighs him down after he forwards his location. He’d left school over an hour ago, taking the subway in the opposite direction of the apartment to surprise his aunt with the pastries she loved from a tiny cafe, but he’d felt himself starting to shift. And even using some of the tactics Jimin had shown him hadn’t helped, so he ducked into the park and shifted behind a slide.

And shifted right into a child.

He sits on a swing now, feet barely brushing the ground. It snowed the day before, now dirty and muddy after children had played all day. The forecast had called for at least two days of snow, but Taehyung had planned a day out with Yoongi and didn’t want to reschedule. Yoongi scolded him for using his magic so recklessly, but softened when Taehyung showed him the painting he’d done of them. Jeongguk got a picture. It was, quite frankly, disgustingly adorable.

Mothers chatting at the tables and benches while idly keeping watch on their children keep stealing glances at Jeongguk. He flops the sleeves of his coat out of the way to fish for his phone again, awkwardly holding it in two hands. He’d shifted into a young boy with messy brown hair, a missing tooth, and a scar on his nose.

Jeongguk shuts his eyes, trying to calm his breathing and focus his magic, but he’s too nervous, his pulse too erratic. Any one of these mothers could ask who he is, where his parents are, or assume from his clothes and scuffled appearance that he has nowhere safe to go. That’ll lead to a trip to the police station, which will lead to more questions, more fear and inability to shift back and he’ll be caught for his magic and taken from his aunt and his friends and he’ll never see any of his friends again-

“Jeongguk!”

He startles, glancing up from his reflection in the screen to see Jimin at the gate to the park, scanning, well, scanning everyone’s faces because Jeongguk forgot what to say what he looks like. Jeongguk lifts his hand, flapping his sleeve. He forgot a scarf, his nose cold in the wind, but his shirt and coat are so oversized he could wear them as a face guard.

“Hyung-”

“Are you alright?” Jimin drops to his knees in front of the swing, expression frantic as he grabs Jeongguk’s cheeks to survey for injury. “Anything hurt? Bad? What the hell happened?”

“Shifted,” Jeongguk mutters, as Jimin tilts his head to make sure he’s all right. “Panicked. Can’t change back.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and he squeezes Jeongguk’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Jeongguk-ah. Let’s get you home and warmed up, okay?”

“Please.”

“Excuse me.” A woman steps next to the swing as Jimin helps Jeongguk to his feet and swings Jeongguk’s backpack over his shoulders. Jeongguk silently thanks his belt. He’s barely taller than Jimin’s hip. She looks down at Jeongguk. “Do you know this man?”

“He’s my hyung,” Jeongguk says, annoyed now. He just wants to leave and get out of the snow.

She looks unconvinced, and Jeongguk pities the child of this woman. She addresses Jimin now, her tone losing the higher pitch she’d used when speaking to Jeongguk. “Then what’s his name?”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin says slowly. He glances down at Jeongguk. “Park Jeongguk.” When she still looks accusatory, her hand poised ominously over her cell phone, Jimin digs into his pocket for his school ID, holding it up for her to see.

“And is that your name?” She asks Jeongguk, “Or do we need to call someone else?”

Jeongguk fights back the overwhelming urge to kick this woman in the shins. “It is. Can we leave now? Hyung’s going to buy me cupcakes.”

Jimin pinches his ear.

The woman continues to watch them as Jimin takes Jeongguk’s hand, (a giant grin overtaking his features because his hand was finally bigger than Jeongguk’s,) and leads him out of the park. It’s hard for Jeongguk to keep up with him in his oversized shoes and pants that bunch awkwardly around his feet, but still they trek to the nearest subway station.

“I hate adults,” Jeongguk says petulantly.

“She was just looking out for a child,” Jimin says. “No offense, but you literally look homeless.”

“I fucking hate magic,” Jeongguk mutters under his breath.

Jimin takes them on a quick detour, pulling Jeongguk into the first bakery that they pass. The woman behind the counter does a double take, giving Jeongguk an odd look as Jimin orders them three pastries to share and a couple of lattes to warm up with.

“I gotta text my aunt,” Jeongguk says, halfway through a chocolate cupcake.

He tugs his phone out of his pocket, dropping it twice and nearly shattering the screen each time and struggling to type before Jimin takes it from him. “I got it.”

“Just tell her I’m gonna stay at yours tonight.”

Jimin nods, wordlessly pushing the giant cookie towards Jeongguk. The warm tea and soft treats help him to feel a little better, but he still can’t shake the feeling he cut it too close. If the woman hadn’t left him alone with Jimin, or if Jimin had gotten there any later, who knows where the hell Jeongguk would be now?

It’s dark out by the time they finish at the bakery, taking a moment for Jimin to roll up Jeongguk’s sleeves and pants so he isn’t tripping over everything. Jeongguk’s legs hurt, but Jimin refuses to carry him the rest of the way to the subway.

“I want to be a father someday, but this is too fucking weird,” Jimin tells him.

They get even more odd looks on the subway and Jeongguk is sick of it. It reminds him too much of what things were like before Namjoon found him on the bus, reminds him too much of constantly checking over his shoulder, curling into himself where he sits to make himself smaller. Every conversation around him feels too loud, like everyone on the subway was now talking about him, speculating about him, curious and imploring and a threat to the careful illusion of happiness he worked so hard to cultivate. He takes the window seat, pulling his legs to his chest as Jimin watches one of Taehyung’s TikToks on his phone. He’d enlisted Seokjin and Hoseok for it, but Jeongguk doesn’t watch, keeps his gaze on the floor and away from the man in a pressed suit looking at Jeongguk like he doesn’t belong.

When they finally get to Jimin’s apartment, Jeongguk violently kicks his shoes off and wrestles with his stupid jacket and gets stuck in his damn shirt, muttering the entire way to Jimin’s bedroom while fighting with his jeans. He can’t reach the top drawer of Jimin’s dresser, so he’s relegated to the floor and bottom drawers to find a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt that are still too fucking big, but at least they’re not cold and covered in snow.

Jeongguk finds hair ties in the bathroom and ties the sweatpants and shirt back and avoids looking at himself in the mirror because he knows he’ll only see a failure. Someone who’s spent months training with a fucking elemental and all he has to show for it is being stuck in a six year old’s body.

Finally, he stalks back through the apartment, finding Jimin in his bedroom and collapsing on the bed next to him. It feels so fucking awkward, shoving his face in Jimin’s neck and not being able to brush his feet against Jimin’s.

“I made you tea,” Jimin says, locking his phone and placing it on the nightstand. “We should warm you up.”

Jeongguk doesn’t move, struggling to control his breathing, hiding in Jimin’s neck because it’s easier than facing the world on his own.

“Jeonggukie?”

Shaking his head, Jeongguk bites at his lip when he hears Jimin sigh. “Hyung-”

“Let’s get you back to normal, okay? I can’t cuddle with you as a child, not with the shit I’ve done to you.”

Jeongguk breathes out a laugh, but it’s a sad, weak sound. “I can’t.”

“You can-”

“I can’t!” Jeongguk pushes himself into a sitting position, wiping angrily at his eyes. “I can’t. I did everything you told me, and I still couldn’t shift back at the park. I’m going to be stuck.”

Jimin shakes his head, propping himself up on his elbows. “You won’t be stuck, Jeongguk. Even if we can’t, your magic will eventually exhaust itself.”

Jeongguk hits his fist on the mattress, choking a little because it’s still fucking tiny and he’s still not himself and he hates it. “I’m stuck, hyung. I can’t- I’m not- I’m not better. It’s been months, and I’m still shit with my magic-”

“Hey, hey. No, Jeongguk, you can’t think like that.” Jimin reaches for him, hesitates, and then draws back his hand. “Strong emotions affect our magic, no matter how well trained we are. Fear, arousal, joy, worry- anything can mess with our magic. Taehyung accidentally caused a heatwave the first time he slept with Yoongi hyung.”

Jeongguk frowns. “How do you know that?”

“They forgot I was home,” Jimin says, grimacing. “That’s not important. Jeongguk, control isn’t solely about having an iron-clad grip on your magic, it’s also about being able to manage it in stressful situations. Think of Seokjin hyung. His magic reaches out to him whenever it wants, and he needs to keep it under control at the most random times. Namjoon hyung can barely walk through a forest without half the plants and trees trying to reach out to him. Yoongi hyung is constantly hiding invisible limbs when they disappear, but that doesn’t mean any of them have no control, it just means sometimes we have to take a step back and not wrangle our magic so tightly. Even me,” Jimin continues, this time covering Jeongguk’s hand with his own when he sees that Jeongguk was shaking. “When I’m stressed or angry, it’s incredibly difficult for me to keep my fire in check.”

Peeking through his bangs, Jeongguk looks at Jimin. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jimin nods. “It was really bad my first year of university. I was always starting fires and struggling to put them out, and this was years after I’d ‘mastered’ the element. It was Taehyung who helped me find a solution,” Jimin says, smiling softly. “He started to buy me candles. When he gave me the first one, he said I should light it and put out when I could feel my control slipping, and it’s helped me immensely. There are still bad days, of course, but I always carry a small candle with me in case it starts to get out of hand.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk breathes, and the training exercise suddenly makes a lot more sense. If even someone like Jimin, one of the few people alive with control over all four elements, still experienced bad days, then maybe… “I think I want to try shifting back now.”

Jimin smiles, his eyes crinkling gently. “Want me to talk you through it?”

Jeongguk shakes his head, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath, holding it in his lungs before he exhales fully. Even Namjoon, who seemed so completely in control of himself at all times, had days when his magic was a little stronger. Yoongi, who liked to pretend he was cold and unaffected but was the first reach out if any of them were hurting, had his days. They all did.

Slowly, Jeongguk pictures the candle, and finds himself imagining Jimin snuffing and lighting the candle several times to reign in his own magic, before Jeongguk pictures the candle full of vibrant purple. He exhales in time with the purple leaving the candle, and when the color is entirely gone, he snuffs the flame.

The hair ties snap as Jeongguk fills out the clothes, giggling to himself as the sweatpants become too short and the shirt stretches over his chest and shoulders. When he opens his eyes, he’s back to himself and Jimin is grinning so widely his eyes have all but disappeared.

“I knew you could do it,” Jimin says, taking Jeongguk’s hand to kiss his palm. “Now come here.”

Jeongguk falls eagerly into Jimin’s arms, and they settle together, curled up against each other with Jimin’s arm around his shoulders and the other draped over his waist. Now that he’s looking for it, Jeongguk sees candles dispersed throughout the room. A few on the windowsill, a couple on the dresser, a few empty ones on the floor. Most are obviously store bought generic, but there are some that look handmade or custom ordered, and Jeongguk grins at the thought of Taehyung carefully searching for and picking out the perfect candle to complement Jimin.

A long silence passes, Jimin’s hands moving softly through Jeongguk’s hair, and he forgets about the tea until too much time has passed and it’s cold.

Jimin tugs lightly on a strand of hair and asks, “You okay?”

“No,” Jeongguk admits, after thinking about it for a long time. He’s still shaken up after what happened at the park, old haunting memories continuing to craft sonatas in his head, but- “But I will be.”

“You will,” Jimin agrees. “No one gets it right away. Some people spend their whole lives learning to live with their magic.”

Jeongguk hums, taking Jimin’s hand to play with his fingers. “Hyung, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Which element was the hardest for you?”

Jimin makes a soft noise of surprise, knocking his head lightly against Jeongguk’s. They’re pressed together, legs tangled, and though Jeongguk hates having his ankles exposed he’s too comfortable to think about walking /all/ the way across the hall to Taehyung’s room to find a longer pair.

“When I was a child, my mother signed me up for ballet,” Jimin says. “I dropped it in high school after finding Kendo, but I’ve always been light on my feet and air came so naturally to me, so I struggled the most with earth. It was hard for me to ground myself, to find any kind of balance in my life. Truthfully, my teachers thought I only controlled three elements because earth wouldn’t fucking respond to me,” Jimin says, laughing quietly.

Jeongguk asks, “What changed?”

“I don’t know if anything really changed. At least not outwardly. Kendo helped, because even though it requires strength and agility like ballet, I wasn’t leaping through the air and dancing on the tips of my toes. Eventually,” Jimin says, trailing his fingers up and down Jeongguk’s arm. He’s staring up at the ceiling, lost in the thoughts of his past. “I stopped fighting it, and listened instead to my heart and to what the earth was telling me it wanted from me, instead of demanding from it. I know that doesn’t make much sense, but-“

“But it helps,” Jeongguk interrupts. “I don’t know much about different types of magic, and. And I really like listening to the ways different people learn to live with magic.”

“You should meet my mom,” Jimin says. “She loves to tell the stories of our relatives and their bizarre fucking magic.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees, staring at Jimin’s profile. “Yeah, I should.”

They fall into comfortable silence again, Jeongguk worn out from the day to the point where he’s nearly asleep against Jimin’s chest when Jimin nudges him slightly to say Yoongi’s bringing food over and ask if he has any requests.

Yoongi brings the food straight to Jimin’s bed, passing out napkins and chopsticks while Taehyung, who’d brought extra blankets because he claims Jimin’s bedroom is always too cold, talks about his shift at the bar. Soon, Namjoon gets back from class and claims the spot on Jeongguk’s other side, feeding him extra chicken before Hoseok and Seokjin arrive and squeeze themselves into the last remaining free spots on the bed. Jeongguk has an idea of how they all knew he needed this, squished between all of them with a shitty Netflix movie playing on one of their laptops, but he doesn’t mention it and Jimin doesn’t say anything, only meeting his eye over the brownies they all share and winking once.

“Um, by the way,” Seokjin says, halfway through the movie. “I might’ve brought the pan of weed brownies I was going to sell to a Freshman at double cost.”

“Hyung!”

“What the fuck!”

“I have a presentation in the morning!”

“I’m on the radio in four hours!”

A chorus of complaints erupt in the room, and Jeongguk just laughs as Yoongi’s arm turns invisible and Hoseok accidentally shifts into Taehyung and Taehyung makes it snow in the corner for a minute, everyone a disaster and falling over each other while they scramble and Jeongguk grins, looks at each of them, and just lets himself be.

Over the last few months, Jeongguk has taken a real liking to watering Namjoon’s plants. It relaxes him, and he likes the time alone to take care of the plants, move them into or out of the sun according to the list that Namjoon had made up for him, and it gives him a chance to relax after a hectic week of class. Holiday break was coming up soon and Jeongguk had a dozen assignments to finish, but for now he watered each plant and named the ones Namjoon hadn’t gotten to yet.

He takes extra time with the sunflowers because he knows they don’t grow around here, a special plant Namjoon had worked long and hard to grow. The others will be home soon, and he doesn’t want to slack off before they get here, knowing Yoongi didn’t sleep after his shift at the radio station and Taehyung was stressing over a portfolio and Seokjin was conflicted with job offers.

Jeongguk also wants to talk to Jimin, if he can find a moment alone with him over the course of the night. Especially after Jeongguk couldn’t shift back in the park, he’s become more and more aware that he can’t keep feelings out of what they have. He likes Jimin, a lot; and if he doesn’t chicken out, he’ll tell Jimin tonight.

A smile breaks his lips, and Jeongguk laughs quietly at himself. It may just be a trick of the light, but Jeongguk swears the plants and flowers shimmer a little when he laughs.

There’s a knock on the door. Jeongguk sets down his watering can and lowers the volume of his music on his laptop before answering, ready to tease Namjoon for forgetting his keys, but it’s not Namjoon at the door, it’s-

“Junghyun hyung.”

“Hey, Kookster.”

Jeongguk freezes, one hand on the doorframe, his giant smile slipping slowly off his face as he stands in front of his older brother for the first time in thirteen years.

Junghyun looks- older, obviously; he doesn’t look like the twelve year old he’d been when Jeongguk left home. That’s all Jeongguk had been able to remember him by, but the distinctive nose and the similar facial features were hard to dispute. He’s broader, bigger, and Jeongguk wonders if he’s already completed his enlistment.

“I-” Jeongguk swallows, unsure what to say. He’s thought about this moment before, what he would ever say if his family ever tried to find him, but he forgets all of that now in the face of his brother. Mostly, he’d imagined screaming, crying, asking what unforgivable action he’d done as a child to warrant their hatred. He doesn’t have the drive for any of that now, though. “What-? What are you doing here?”

“We’re in town,” Junghyun says, shrugging as if this were normal or casual, as if they were the type of brothers to see each other often. “Um. All of us.”

Jeongguk feels sick. “All of you?”

“Yeah.” Junghyun reaches out, and then seems to think better of it, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets instead. “Jeongguk-ah, mom and dad, they… they feel terrible about what happened.”

“They do?”

“Of course, man. You know them,” Junghyun’s expression softens. “They overreact, say things they don’t mean. They were scared to hurt you, that they wouldn’t be able to give you the proper care you needed with your magic.”

Ducking his head, Jeongguk stays quiet for a long moment. “How’d you know where I was?”

“Jieun,” Junghyun says. “She told me you’d probably be here.”

“Mom and dad…” Jeongguk remembers the final night, remembers sitting on the floor outside the kitchen as they argued over what to do with him as one might do a burdensome animal. Remembers cracking open the door to their bedroom in the middle of the night as a final goodbye and being too scared to step foot inside. “They’re here?”

“They want to see you, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk can’t help the way his head snaps up at that, staring at his brother with wide eyes as his pulse pounds erratically in his ears. “They do?”

“They miss you like crazy,” Junghyun says, lifting a hand to squeeze Jeongguk’s shoulder. “We’re getting dinner a few blocks away. Will you come?”

“I-” Jeongguk almost wants to say no, wants to wait a day or two or a hundred before he’s emotionally prepared to face his parents again. In his eyes, despite everything that happened, they’re still bathed in the idyllic childhood light that paints them as heroes, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be ready to see what the years have done to them. Or if they’ll be ready to see him now, as someone who’s chosen to embrace their magic rather than hide it away. His voice breaks, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Junghyun grins, and Jeongguk can’t help but do the same. “Now, you coming or what?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes, and feels giddy anticipation deep in his bones. “Yeah, let me just grab my stuff.”

He slips his shoes back on and takes four tries to tie the laces because his hands won’t stop shaking. He pulls his jacket on and grabs his backpack, but Junghyun makes a noise and takes it from him, putting the bag on the ground by the counters. “I’ll bring you back after dinner, you don’t need everything.”

“Right,” Jeongguk says, entering the passcode to lock the apartment. “So, hyung. What have you been up to for the last ten years?”

In the elevator, Junghyun tells him about high school and his first girlfriend, how he’d gone abroad for college and thought he’d met the woman he wanted to marry, only for the relationship to fizzle out once he’d chosen to enlist. Jeongguk listens to his stories, rapt, the entire way out of the building. He wants to know everything, he decides, even if it takes all night. He wants to know everything.

They call a cab outside the building, the sleek black car pulling to the curb quickly. Jeongguk talks about his classes, getting lost in a story about a guy in his class throwing his coffee cup away by chucking it from his seat on the opposite side of the room when he notices the sign for the exit the cab takes.

“Uh, hyung?”

“Yeah?” Junghyun doesn’t look up from his phone.

“You said mom and dad were at a restaurant a few blocks away?

Junghyun locks his phone. The driver hands a white cloth back to him. “Change of plans, Jeon Jeongguk.”

Junghyun grabs a fistfull of Jeongguk’s hair, wrenching his head back as Jeongguk cries out, tries to kick at him and get away, but Junghyun holds the cloth to Jeongguk’s mouth and nose and forces him to breathe in the chemicals. He struggles, holds his breath for as long as he’s able, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he kicks and claws and tries to cry out.

It’s no use, and eventually Jeongguk needs to breathe. Eventually, his eyes begin to droop, his movements becoming sluggish and less powerful as his body slumps against the seat.

His vision blurs, and right before his eyes, Junghyun shifts into someone else, someone Jeongguk doesn’t recognize with a sinister smile before everything goes black.

“Why do I have to carry you? I’m not your boyfriend.”

“Our love transcends silly titles.”

“It’s because he’s weak, isn’t it?”

“He’s so weak,” Taehyung bemoans, burying his face in Jimin’s neck. “It’s like dating a freshman before he bulks up to impress sorority girls.”

Jimin cackles, adjusting his hold on Taehyung’s thighs as they’re waiting for the elevator. Yoongi rolls his eyes, burdened with all three of their backpacks. But Jimin will contest that Yoongi took them on his own because he didn’t want Jimin to hurt his back, no matter what Yoongi says.

“I’m not weak,” Yoongi protests. “Your limbs are too long. Hyung, tell them I’m not weak.”

“You’re very strong, Yoongi-chi.” Seokjin says, tapping away at a rhythm game on his phone. “The strongest, manliest man to ever live. If you weren’t a taken man I’d let you sweep me off my feet.”

Yoongi grimaces, pushing Seokjin into the elevator as the doors open and ignoring his outraged shout when he loses his game. “Too much, you ruined it.”

“I have never ruined a single thing in my life.”

“And I don’t want to date you.”

“Why not?” Seokjin uses Yoongi’s head as an armrest. “I’m a delight to be around.”

“I already love Taehyung.”

“Disgusting.”

Jimin whistles. “Oh, Taehyungie, Yoongi loves you,” he drawls.

“Well, I sure hope so,” Taehyung says, nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s neck. “Considering the shit we’ve done. Besides, you weren’t complaining I was too long last night-”

“Nope!” Namjoon smacks his palm over Taehyung’s mouth. “Nope. We all signed that contract. Absolutely no sex stuff talking. Ever.”

Jimin laughs, nearly sending both himself and Taehyung toppling when he loses his balance from laughing so hard. Hoseok has to steady him, only letting go when the elevator reaches the sixth floor. He’s glad Namjoon’s apartment isn’t too far down the hall, because for as jacked as he is, he’s been carrying Taehyung since they got off the subway and his arms are starting to burn.

“Do you think Jeongguk devoured everything in the fridge?” Hoseok asks idly.

“I hope so,” Seokjin says. “He still gets shy about eating with us sometimes.”

“You sound like Jieun-ssi,” Jimin snickers. He sees all of their odd looks directed at him and asks, “What? We text sometimes, and she’s worried he’s not eating enough.”

“Then I’ll make extra tonight,” Seokjin says.

Jimin nearly weeps with relief when he finally gets to set Taehyung down, his arms feeling like jelly as they all make their way into the apartment. There’s soft music playing from Jeongguk’s laptop, the battery close to running out when Jimin taps at one of the keys. The watering can is still on the table, Jeongguk’s backpack on the floor.

“I don’t think he’s here.” Taehyung voices what they’re all thinking, and it’s confirmed almost immediately when Hoseok returns from the bedrooms and bathroom without Jeongguk.

Namjoon frowns. “Did he say anything about staying late at school?”

“No,” Hoseok says, bringing up a page on Jeongguk’s laptop just as the battery dies. “Fuck. His stuff is here.”

“Maybe his aunt called him home,” Yoongi suggests.

“He would have told us,” Jimin says. And he’s been speaking to Jeongguk’s aunt all afternoon, there’s no way she wouldn’t have mentioned if he came home early, not when he’d already told her that he was planning to stay at Seokjin’s for the night. “I’m going to call him.”

The call goes straight to voicemail, and everyone can feel the tension thicken within the room. They’ve never been unable to get a hold of Jeongguk. Sometimes it would take a few tries if Jeongguk fell asleep in a warm sun beam or stayed up too late playing Overwatch, but never six, eight, twelve calls that go unanswered.

“Check his backpack,” Yoongi suggests.

Seokjin grabs it off the floor and immediately drops it, hissing as if he’d been burned. “Shit,” he says. “Shit.”

“What?” Taehyung asks, but they all know the answer.

“My magic hasn’t been that insistent in a while,” Seokjin answers, trying his damndest to keep his voice neutral. “Something’s wrong.”

Seokjin takes the backpack again, wincing as he holds it in both of his hands. Jimin’s nails cut into his palm, his fists curled so tightly that it stings. It’s hard for him to breathe, anger simmering below the surface and he sees red everywhere-

From the corner of his eye, Jimin sees Taehyung shake his head, just the shortest, subtle movement, but it sends the message. Jimin exhales, forcing himself to relax his hands. Now is not the time to cause his magic to overreact.

“Someone came to the door,” Seokjin is saying, staring down at the backpack. “They claimed to be Jeongguk’s brother, but he wouldn’t let Jeongguk take any of his things when they left. They left almost two hours ago.”

“We need to go,” Jimin says hurriedly. “We need to get to him.”

Seokjin sends him a dirty look, “No shit, Jimin. But we don’t know where they are. Neither of them said, just that it’s somewhere nearby, but if this guy lied about his identity, I’d bet he lied about that, too.”

“We’ll text Jieun-ssi,” Taehyung suggests.

“I really don’t think we should make her worry,” Namjoon says slowly. “Not before… not unless. Not unless we know something happened.”

“We can’t just sit here!” Hoseok stands abruptly, sending his chair toppling to the floor. “Jeongguk’s gone, we can’t just sit here and fucking hope whoever took him brings him back!”

“How are we supposed to know where he is!” Namjoon fires back, but he’s chewing on his bottom lip, just as nervous and apprehensive as the rest of them as tensions continue to mount, making them take their fear out on each other. “Wander through town and ask the neighbors if anyone saw him? Maybe one of us should head to Busan, just in case!”

Yoongi squeezes the back of Namjoon’s neck. “Fuck, if only one of us had tracing magic.”

“Tracing,” Jimin whispers. “Shit!” He digs his phone out of his pocket, tapping hurriedly. “Jeongguk’s had his location shared with me since the incident at the park, and- ah ha! The signal cut off in an industrial area near Incheon.”

“Incheon?” Seokjin looks over his shoulder, as Jimin takes screenshots and goes backwards in locations, trying to guess where they might’ve gone. “Holy shit, they could be gone by the time we even get there.”

“We can’t risk it.” Jimin looks at each of them, and knows they’re thinking the same as him. “We can’t leave him. Seokjin hyung, you drive. Grab whatever you think you may need, we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “We don’t even have a plan.”

“No,” Jimin agrees. “We’ll come up with one, but our focus needs to be on bringing Jeongguk home. Got it?” Everyone nods. “Good. Let’s go.”

“Stick to the plan.”

“We don’t have a plan,” Namjoon mutters.

“We have a general idea, and that’s the best we’re going to get.” Jimin’s been saying that since they got into the car, taking two because Seokjin steadfastly refused to take all of them in one car. They’d never get to Jeongguk if they got arrested, he’d said. Jimin thought that was dumb.

“Are we there yet?” Taehyung asks, fidgeting in his seat.

“Soon,” Seokjin says. “We’re leaving the outskirts of the city.”

They were tense, all of them. Yoongi kept texting him updates from the other car, of Hoseok’s hands shaking so badly it was difficult for him to drive. In the back seat, Taehyung’s entire body seemed to be shaking, and he’d created a rainstorm so brutal that the forecast was calling for flooding. Jimin’s fingers kept sparking, and not even Taehyung’s fingers linked with his could calm it.

The rain gets worse as they drive out of the city, but soon they’re driving a winding path through several backroads until Jimin loses track of where they are, unfamiliar with the area. Eventually, Seokjin and Hoseok’s cars are the only two on the road as the houses dwindle out and are replaced by large warehouses, industrial buildings, shipping crates, and empty lots of land. Behind them, Hoseok flashes his lights, and both cars pull to the right of the road.

“What do we do from here?” Hoseok has to shout to be heard over the rain, shielding his eyes with his hand. “Jeongguk could be anywhere!”

“What was his final location?” Yoongi asks.

Jimin ducks back into the car to pull up his phone, looking at the screen that he’s memorized by now. The last seconds before Jeongguk’s location stopped sharing. “It cuts out about here,” Jimin shouts.

In their immediate proximity there are three large warehouses, several shipping crates, and one dilapidated house.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon yells. “Can’t you like, feel him? Or something?”

“How would I feel him!”

“You’re both shifters!”

“Enough fighting!” Seokjin struggles to get his hair out of his face. “We need to find Jeongguk, and fast. Taehyung, can’t you chill with the rain?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Sorry, fuck. I’m trying, I just can’t stand the idea that Guk-ah is hurt.”

“Look!” Namjoon is pointing to a building to their left, where a single black car was parked out front. It was the only other car aside from theirs, parked crookedly as if whoever had been driving needed to get out in a hurry. “I think that’s our best bet.”

“Should we split up?” Hoseok shouts the question.

“No,” Jimin says. This close to Incheon, Jimin can feel the ocean beginning to take an interest in him, the water just waiting on the edge for Jimin to summon it. He won’t, unless absolutely necessary, because he and Taehyung have a system whenever Jimin needed his water magic. “Let’s go in together and split up. Meet back out here in thirty minutes, and we’ll move to the next building.”

“Come on,” Seokjin says. “If they’re on the lookout, we won’t have much time.”

Slowly, they all make their way to the front of the industrial building using the dim, flickering light of the streetlamps as their only guide. Jimin tries to conjure a flame to use, but the relentless downpour keeps putting it out. There was a light turned on inside of the building, dim enough that they couldn’t see it from where they’d stopped the cars outside.

No sign of anyone out front, Jimin gestures for Seokjin, Namjoon, and Yoongi to go around back. The building is relatively smaller than most of the other industrial ones around the area, as nondescript as could be, yet larger than the abandoned house nearby. Aside from the one light, there’s no other signs of life.

“I’ll go upstairs, you two search down here.”

“Be careful,” Hoseok says, squeezing Jimin’s shoulder.

When Jimin tries the front door, he doesn’t expect it to open from the slightest touch of his hand, but the wood creaks open slowly. It shuts behind them, and they’re suddenly engulfed entirely in silence, an eerie sensation after being out in the rain. If he strains, Jimin can just make out the sound of the rain pounding on the roof, his wet clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

The entryway is empty, three large, ratty chairs set up around a fireplace and a lamp with a flickering bulb on the opposite side of the room. He can’t hear anything, and somehow that’s more unnerving. Jimin was used to loud, used to the rain, but now it’s silent and dusty and damp and dark, and that’s worse.

There was no way to tell if anyone was lurking, no way to tell if the shadows hid monsters or simply flickered with the light of the streetlamp outside. Jimin squares his shoulders, grabbing one of the pokers lying abandoned by the fireplace.

“Stay quiet,” Jimin whispers. “I’m heading up.”

The building is large, something Jimin hadn’t really noticed from the street. Two levels, a large footprint, set up like a safehouse or a hideout. He steps slowly up the stairs, careful to avoid any weak spots so the stairs don’t creak beneath his feet. He has no idea what the second floor has in store, but if it’s anything like the first, (later Taehyung will explain to him, curled up and shaking with a blanket over his shoulders, that it absolutely looked as if people were living there. A makeshift kitchen outfitted to heat simple foods, several pairs of shoes by the back door, guns and ammunition in one of the hall closets, and a lot of blueprints. Binoculars. Telescopes. Radios. And information on more than dozens of witches. A halfway house, the police will tell them. They haven’t found any of the witches who were moved to a secondary location,) then Jimin expects creepy, creaky, and the ever-present sensation of spiders crawling down his spine as he walks, certain that there are eyes on him from somewhere.

Jimin holds the poker like a sword, held in front of his body. He’s good with his hands, good with his kicks and his punches, but part of him wants to stab the first motherfucker to cross his path with the poker because the toe of his shoe isn’t sharp enough to do the amount of damage he wants.

The first door he opens leads to a large bedroom, makeshift in design. The room itself is large, but it looks as if it was used for some kind of production before being outfitted for sleep. He closes the door, not bothering to step inside.

Jimin moves slowly, checking each of the doors and only becoming more confused the further he goes. He finds closets and a bathroom, but the second floor consists of one long hallway, metal and industrial like where overseers watch those who work in production. However, each room Jimin checks looks as if it were used for sleep or planning.

The longer he walks without running into someone, the more on edge he becomes. He checks his phone, but there’s no signal, and he hasn’t heard anything from the others, wonders if there was even a way into the building from the back, or if Taehyung and Hoseok are okay on the first floor, if any of them have run into one of the people who took Jeongguk, if this house was empty and he was the last to know that Jeongguk wasn’t even here.

The last door jams as Jimin tries to open it. He knocks it open with his elbow, poker pointed at the ready, and finds himself in another small room. This one has nothing more than a lamp on the floor in the corner, a weak light flickering throughout the room. There’s a tray on the floor, an uneaten apple and hunk of bread remain untouched upon it. A water cup lies overturned on the floor by a dirty, decrepit looking mattress, upon which sits-

“Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk was slumped, his head lolling in the direction of Jimin’s voice, but other than that he doesn’t appear to move. His jeans were ripped and muddy, arm covered in bright red marks, hair a disaster, and that’s- oh God, is that blood on the collar of his shirt? Jimin stands in the doorway, horrified as he appraises the scene and finds that one of Jeongguk’s hands were handcuffed to a ring drilled into the wall above his head, just far enough that he couldn’t lie down on the bed, his arm raised above his head.

“Oh my God, Jeongguk!”

Jimin is at his side in a heartbeat, poker falling to the floor with a sound that seems to echo throughout the entire building. Jeongguk barely moves, reacting slow to the noise and even slower to Jimin’s proximity, but he violently flinches when Jimin raises his hands and Jimin pauses, feeling useless and powerless. He can flood an entire city but he doesn’t know what the fuck to do here.

“Ji-min?” Jeongguk’s voice is raspy, as though… as though he’d screamed until his vocal chords gave out and that’s when Jimin sees the bruises.

A horrendous purple bruise on his jaw, and another one just below his eye. His lip was split in three places, one of which was still bleeding onto his chin. From what Jimin could tell, there was a cut at Jeongguk’s temple, the blood congealing and tangling his hair. When Jeongguk rolls his head back, his hair moves and Jimin sees that his other eye is black and swollen shut. He opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out, gaze hazy and unfocused. He can’t sit up properly, swaying, and Jimin has the sinking feeling that whoever had taken Jeongguk had given him something to keep him still and silent.

“Don’t speak.” Jimin struggles to keep his voice even, though his chest aches and anger simmers and he’s so fucking angry, torn between finding the fuckers who did this to Jeongguk and beating the shit out of them, and focusing only on getting Jeongguk to safety. “I’m going to get you out of here. Do you know where the people who took you went?”

Jeongguk shakes his head and winces. “Hyung-”

“I know, Jeongguk.” Jimin’s hands hover uselessly. “Is there a key?”

Again, Jeongguk shakes his head. When he coughs, more blood splatters onto his shirt and Jimin physically feels ill. “Save your strength,” Jimin says. “You’re going to be okay, okay? You’re okay.”

Jimin touches Jeongguk’s wrist cuffed to the wall, and immediately lets go when Jeongguk winces. He moves closer and sees that his wrist was clearly broken, flopping awkwardly with the bone nearly breaking through skin as if… as if he’d tried everything to pull his hand out of the cuff.

“Hurts,” Jeongguk sobs. “Hyung- hurts-”

“I know,” Jimin says, his voice shaking. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

“Your hands are shaking,” Jeongguk says, slurring something terrible. “Are you that intimidated by me?”

Jimin tries to laugh, tries because he knows that’s what Jeongguk was looking for, but it tears at his throat and worsens the ache in his chest. “Please shut up,” he says. “I need to get you out of here.”

The ring is drilled deep into the wall, and despite trying to pull, it doesn’t move at all. He’s heard before that breaking one’s wrist was a good way to get out of something like this, but whoever had secured Jeongguk had done it tightly enough that he couldn’t slip it out. He eyes the poker on the floor.

Holding the poker in one hand, Jimin uses the other to conjure up a flame and holds that hand on the chain closest to the wall to heat the metal

“Fuck,” Jeongguk curses, trying to twist away from the flame. “Too much, hyung, s’too-”

“Just a little more.” Jimin grits his teeth, building the flame until the temperature was beginning to burn his hand, too. Jeongguk cries out, sobbing as the chain gets too hot, his wrist blistering slightly. “A little more.”

Beneath Jimin’s hand, the metal begins to weaken from the high temperature, and as it does, Jimin wrenches the poker between two of the links on the chain, twisting it and pushing and bending, cursing and praying to anything that may listen- just needs, just needs a little bit more, a little more and Jeongguk won’t be crying, won’t be in pain. He just needs to get Jeongguk out, needs to get him out, find the others, get out of here, get out of here-

Jimin nearly cries when the chain breaks away from the ring, snuffing the flame from his palm. Jeongguk’s arm drops like deadweight and he falls onto his side, crying out when his wrist twists unnaturally.

“No more,” Jeongguk begs, repeating the two words as Jimin tries to help him back into a sitting position.

No more, Jimin tries to promise, but before he can get the words out, there’s a crash from downstairs and the sound of several pairs of footsteps running, shouts echoing everywhere.

Smoke begins to sweep into the bedroom.

From the dirty, tiny window on the opposite wall, Jimin sees the distinctive glow spreading to the trees and debris and wood at the back of the building. A glow he knows in a terrifying, intimate way.

Jeongguk coughs.

“Jeongguk, baby, look at me.” Jimin takes Jeongguk’s cheeks in his hands, holding him steady even as Jeongguk looks as though he’s about to collapse. He can’t focus on Jimin, breathing heavily through his mouth, his nose crooked and broken. “Listen to me, I don’t know who’s downstairs. Did you get a good look at who took you?”

It takes almost a minute, during which smoke continues to pour into the room, and Jimin can hear screaming and shouting and flinches at the shot of a gun, but Jeongguk finally nods.

“Listen, you need to shift into them,” Jimin says. “If you look like him, it’ll be easy for us to get out, okay?”

“I can’t,” Jeongguk whispers, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “Hyung, I can’t, not with the fire-”

“I know it’s scary,” Jimin says, forcing himself to remain calm. He remembers Jeongguk’s stories, the fire, the fear, the loss- “Try to focus.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can shift back, you know I can’t shift.”

“Hey.” Jimin strokes his cheeks, gentle around the bruises and scrapes. Jeongguk stares at him with one eye, the other swollen shut. “Remember what I told you about pain and fear? Listen to your magic, it wants to protect you. Wants to keep you safe.” Jimin’s voice cracks, another gunshot ringing through the building, “Please, baby.”

“Hurts.”

“I know.” Jimin presses a desperate, lingering kiss to Jeongguk’s forehead. “Please, Jeongguk. Breathe with me.”

Jeongguk’s eye droops shut, nearly deadweight, breathing loudly as the room gets hotter, and the screaming louder. Jimin contemplates their odds of survival if they jump out the window. It’s still raining badly, but the second story was too high off the ground, especially if Jeongguk couldn’t walk or hold his own weight. Jimin could try to carry them out of the building, but if they run into whoever took Jeongguk then they’re both in danger.

He’s ready to take Jeongguk over his shoulder and just risk it when Jeongguk exhales softly, and his face begins to change.

Jimin doesn’t think he could ever get used to this, watching Jeongguk’s skin shift and morph as his body adjusts to the changing limbs and features. His face rounds out, hair getting shorter, his legs just a little bit longer. His broken nose settles awkwardly, smaller than his had been, his eyes becoming more angular, his lips thinner. The bruises and cuts remain.

“You did it,” Jimin whispers. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t- know-”

“Come on, stand with me.”

Jeongguk bites hard on his lip when he stands, heavily favoring his left foot and cradling his right hand to his chest. He stumbles on his first step, Jimin catching him and pulling Jeongguk’s arm around his shoulders. Whimpers of pain slip from his lips with every step, tears and snot running down his face. Jimin’s heart breaks again, but he has to be strong for Jeongguk, so he steels himself, squares his shoulders, and walks with Jeongguk as fast as they can out of the room.

On the landing, the smoke is even worse. Jeongguk begins coughing almost instantly, hacking, painful coughs racking his body. Jimin can feel the heat from the fire, becoming nearly unbearable as they approach the stairs. Jeongguk is shaking against him, awkwardly holding his broken wrist to his chest.

Closing his eyes, Jimin breathes in deep and tries to get a hold on the fire, but it’s too much. The fire is spreading too quickly, burning too hot, and the air was too dry for Jimin to do anything. He could only hope the rain outside quelled the flames in the slightest.

“We’re almost out, Jeongguk,” Jimin murmurs into Jeongguk’s hair. “Careful with the steps.”

Anxiety and fear mix uncomfortably in Jimin’s stomach as they descend too slowly, Jeongguk unable to do more than a step in a minute or more. Jimin pulls his shirt over his mouth, blinking through the smoke.

Halfway down the stairs, two men come clambering up, both burly and huge with ugly faces, soot and scrapes on their cheeks. “Boss!” One of them shouts, stopping two steps below Jeongguk. “The fuck happened up there?”

“The bastard broke out,” Jeongguk says, the cut on his lip bleeding onto his chin. “We… we were wrong.”

“What happened to you?” The shorter one asks, eyeing Jimin. “Thought you had the kid chained.”

“He shifted and slipped out.” Jeongguk wobbles a little, and Jimin squeezes his shoulder in silent support. He doesn’t have much left in him. If Jimin doesn’t get him out soon, he’ll either pass out from the pain or the smoke inhalation, or shift back into himself. “Knocked me out.”

The shorter one hooks a thumb towards Jimin. “We taking this one?”

“No,” Jeongguk says sharply. “New recruit. Find Jeon. Check the attic.”

“Got it,” the first says. “Meet at the rendezvous at sunrise.”

“Jimin, I’m going to be sick,” Jeongguk hisses, sounding more alert than he has all night.

Jimin pulls Jeongguk’s arm tighter around his shoulders, “The car is outside. We’re almost there, I promise.”

The fire is unbearable on the first floor, causing Jeongguk to cough more violently, moaning with pain after every single one. It’s behind them, Jimin realizes, that the fire started deeper within the building. Back where Taehyung and Hoseok were. Something creaks above them, and Jimin curses as a beam of burning wood falls to their left. The fire is spreading too quickly, but Jimin-

Jimin knows. He knows he can’t check the rest of the building. He’ll lose Jeongguk and likely kill himself.

He pulls Jeongguk to the door.

They both gasp as Jimin kicks the front door open, desperately breathing in the clean air. It’s still raining heavily; not enough to put out the fire, but enough that it’s hard for Jimin to see properly.

Sirens blare in the distance, the screech of tires as several cars tear out of the area. He can’t see through the rain, Jeongguk trying to choke back his sobs. When Jimin looks at him, his wet hair matted to his face, his face keeps moving and shifting, struggling to find the energy to stay in one form. He needs a car. Where’s the car? Where are the others-?

“Jimin!” Hoseok catches Jeongguk before he can trip on debris, and Jimin nearly cries at the sight of his face, unmarred but twisted with worry.

“You’re alive,” Jimin gasps.

“We can discuss that later, they have so many fucking guns.”

Together, Jimin and Hoseok all but drag Jeongguk to the car, running idle where it had been left earlier. Seokjin stands at the driver’s side, staring back toward the house. He’s got a nasty cut on his forehead, Jimin notices as they get closer, but other than that he’s unharmed. Jimin ducks into the car, and Hoseok helps Jeongguk to lie down across the backseat.

“Hey!”

“Drive!” Hoseok shouts, panic creeping into his tone.

In the doorway to the building, now almost entirely engulfed in flames, stands one of the men from earlier. He cocks a shotgun and aims it at Jimin.

“Fuck!” Seokjin slams the door open as Jimin wrenches his shut, Jeongguk’s head on his lap.

“Go! Fucking go!” Hoseok screams.

The bullet shatters Jimin’s window.

Tires screech as Seokjin hits the gas, jerking the car around as quickly as possible and driving back the way they came. Behind them, the fire burns bright and hot, police cars and firetrucks screeching down the highway. Seokjin takes the back roads.

He doesn’t slow down until they’re absolutely certain no one is following them, and even then Seokjin doesn’t follow the speed limit because Jeongguk is crying in pain now, tears staining his cheeks as he cradles his wrist. He writhes, legs bent awkwardly to fit in the back of the car, turning his face towards Jimin and then away, the bruises and scrapes and blood brutal to lie down with.

“The others?” Jimin asks, running his shaking fingers through Jeongguk’s knotted hair.

“They’re alive,” Hoseok replies.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk gasps. “Jin- hyung-”

“Jeonggukie?” Seokjin asks, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

“You’re out of- of mushrooms.”

And with that, Jeongguk knocks out cold.

Everything hurts.

No, that’s not right.

The pain is muted, more of an aching sensation across his entire body, not centered in one spot but enough all over to be uncomfortable. Everything feels muted and fuzzy, like he’s suspended deep underwater, static rushing in his ears.

A whimper sounds in his ear as a burning feeling starts in his wrist. They’re back, they’re back and they realized he broke his wrist and they’re going to- they’re going to- again, with the ropes and the belts and his own brother’s hand-

Jeongguk wrenches his eye open, gasping in a breath and crying out when the movement hurts his chest. He doesn’t recognize the room, doesn’t know why his leg is suspended, where he is, where they are-

“Calm down, Jeongguk. Breathe, you’re okay.” Namjoon is there, sitting at the side of Jeongguk’s bed. Jeongguk can hear a monitor, beeping loudly as his heartbeat spikes and then begins to settle. “You’re okay.”

“Hyung?” Jeongguk reaches out and Namjoon catches his hand, holds it tightly between both of his. “Where are we?”

“Hospital,” Namjoon says quietly. “We’re back in Seoul.”

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, wincing at the pull on his face. With his free hand- an IV and needles are in his arm, part of him panics and wants to pull them out but he knows that isn’t a good idea- he touches his nose and finds bandages. He takes a moment to survey the room, finds Yoongi asleep in a chair on Jeongguk’s other side, his head by Jeongguk’s hip. Hoseok was asleep on the small couch on the opposite side of the room.

“What happened?” Jeongguk asks, sliding his hand over Yoongi’s, and trying not to panic at the sight of the cast on his wrist.

Namjoon is quiet for a long moment, stroking his thumb over the back of Jeongguk’s hand. “What do you remember?”

His head hurts when he thinks back to- yesterday? A week ago? Time feels like it doesn’t properly exist and he has no idea how long he spent chained in that room. “I remember my brother came to see me, and-” Jeongguk rubs his palm over his eye, hissing loudly as he aggravates the bruise and cuts there. “That wasn’t my brother, was it?”

“No,” Namjoon says softly. “No, Jeongguk-ah. Do you remember anything after that?”

“We… we got a cab. Junghyun… um, the guy who knocked, said he was taking me to see my parents.” Jeongguk drops his gaze, shame sweeping through him. “He knocked me out when I realized we were going the wrong way. I remember being questioned and overhearing a lot about rituals? Then I think they gave me something, because everything gets all fuzzy until Jimin hyung shows up.” Jeongguk’s eye goes wide, and he tries to sit up, but Namjoon stands and places both hands on his shoulders to help settle him. “Where’s Jimin? Taehyung and Seokjin? Are they okay? They can’t be hurt, hyung, they can’t-”

“They’re okay,” Namjoon says. “I promise, Jeongguk. Taehyung’s in another room. He used a lot of magic the other night and his body needs to recover. Seokjin is speaking to his lawyers and Jimin went to get a cup of coffee.”

Jeongguk frowns. “Why is hyung talking to his lawyers?”

For a moment, Namjoon doesn’t say anything. “Jeongguk, the men who took you were… hired by your parents. Over the last few years, there’s been a rise in the number of organizations that claim they can remove someone’s magic and make them mortal. That’s what those men meant by rituals. They believe there’s a certain spell or incantation that can steal magic.”

“Oh my God.”

“There was a shed behind the building, and we found a lot of files and contact information,” Namjoon continues. “That man shifted into your brother and contacted Jieun-ssi.”

“Is she okay?” Jeongguk asks sharply.

“She’s fine,” Namjoon says. “She’d been here since yesterday, so she went home to take a nap.”

“I’m sorry.”

Namjoon’s expression shifts, lips parting in surprise. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I opened the door,” Jeongguk sniffles. Beside him, Yoongi begins to stir at the noise. He tries to wipe his eyes and scratches himself with his cast. “I disappointed you guys and got Taehyungie hyung hurt-”

“Hey, no.” Namjoon brushes the hair away from Jeongguk’s eyes. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. This was not your fault, Jeongguk. Hey, look at me. This was not your fault.”

“But I-”

“Joonie’s right, Jeongguk-ah.” Yoongi rubs at his eye, looking absolutely exhausted. “That’s what Seokjin is doing right now. You know how his dad is the CEO of a technology company? He’s very vocal about condemning these organizations against witches. Seokjin is telling him what happened now so he can launch an investigation. These people target young witches to steal magic, and that’s not your fault.”

“It is,” Jeongguk says sadly. He feels tears streak from his eye, the other still too swollen. “If I was better, if my parents loved me, they wouldn’t have sent these people after me-”

“No,” Yoongi says sternly. “You are not a problem, Jeongguk. Your parents are shitty people who’d rather strip you of your magic than love you for who you are.”

Jeongguk flinches as Namjoon snaps, “Hyung, stop.”

“It’s true!”

“Don’t overwhelm him!”

“We love you, Jeongguk.” Yoongi turns away to look at Jeongguk. “Nothing will ever change that.”

“It still hurts,” Jeongguk whispers.

“And that’s okay,” Namjoon says. “But Yoongi is right. We’re here for you, and that will never change.”

Jeongguk closes his eyes, leaning into Namjoon’s touch in his hair. He wishes he could say it was hard to believe his parents would hire magical hitmen to come after him, but no matter how much he thinks about it, it doesn’t surprise him. Even after all these years, over a decade without contact, they still couldn’t accept this was who Jeongguk was.

But Namjoon assures him that Seokjin is handling things, contacting the police and other prominent media figures through his father. He only needs to focus on recovering, and the doctors said he should recover fully. His ankle was sprained and his wrist and nose were broken, he had a small concussion, a black eye, and several small contusions and bruises over his body and face.

The pain is still dull from the painkillers the hospital has him on, but his wrist itches and his leg is falling asleep from being elevated. Namjoon tells him to relax. Jeongguk just wants a cheeseburger.

“Hobi, I took your car to Starbucks because the coffee here sucks ass,” a new voice declares.

Hoseok stirs on the couch, murmuring. “Did you put gas in the car?”

“Nope,” Jimin says, sipping happily on his drink. He freezes in the doorway, his gaze locking onto Jeongguk’s before his eyes go wide and his mouth drops and then he’s running to Jeongguk’s side and handing off his drink to Yoongi. “You motherfuckers, why didn’t you tell me he was awake? Fuck, Jeongguk, fuck. You’re okay, yeah? You’re okay, fuck.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk chokes out.

Jimin’s hands find Jeongguk’s cheeks, holding him delicately as he pressed their foreheads together. “I was so worried, Jeongguk. Shit, seeing you in that room-”

“You saved me.”

“You’re the one who got us out of there,” Jimin says, pulling back slightly so he can see Jeongguk properly. “Do you remember shifting?”

“A little,” Jeongguk admits.

“You did it.” Jimin’s eyes fill with tears, slipping like diamonds down his cheeks. “You did it, baby.”

Jeongguk tries to smile, but it pulls at his split lips and turns into something more like a grimace. “Thanks to you, hyung.”

Hoseok drapes himself over Namjoon’s back, reaching forward to ruffle Jeongguk’s hair while taking care not to disrupt the bandages. “Hey, little star.”

Jimin sits on the edge of the bed, not letting go of Jeongguk’s hand while Yoongi settles behind him, Namjoon and Hoseok on his other side. He remembers the building. Remembers being strapped to a chair and slapped and beaten when his captors couldn’t find tangible proof that the ritual had taken his magic, asked over and over again if he knew anyone else with magic. But if his hyungs would risk everything to protect him, Jeongguk would return that sentiment tenfold.

Jeongguk would do anything for them.

“Jimin hyung-”

“I love you,” Jimin says suddenly. He rubs his thumb softly beneath Jeongguk’s good eye. “I wanted to say it the other day, but. Well, you know. Life got in the way.”

Jeongguk gapes at him.

Hoseok whispers, “Fucking finally” and groans when Namjoon elbows him in the stomach. Yoongi tries to hide his smile behind his hand.

“Unless,” Jimin continues slowly. “Unless you don’t feel the same, in which case I love you like a bro. In a bro way, because I’m super cool and super chill and totally not at all dying on the inside. Which is not to say I’ll die if you don’t feel the same because that’s super shitty? Like, you don’t have to like me back, you don’t even have to like me at all-”

“Hyung.”

“I can totally just love you in a bro way, it’s cool-”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk laughs, using his good hand to squeeze Jimin’s wrist. “I love you, too. Of course I love you.”

“Really?” Jimin asks shyly, his cheeks colored pink.

“I wanted to say it the other day,” Jeongguk says. He’s hyper aware of the other’s eyes on them, of his burning cheeks. “But, you know.” He gestures to his body, broken and bruising. “Life got in the way.”

Jimin chokes on a laugh, pulling Jeongguk close to kiss the corner of his mouth away from his split lip, just holding him there for the longest minute, his smile pressed to Jeongguk’s cheek. He can hear Hoseok and Yoongi teasing them but Jeongguk doesn’t care.

“Found a straggler.” Seokjin walks in with an arm around Taehyung’s waist, his face lighting up when he sees that Jeongguk was awake. “He refused to go back to his room.”

“Because I’m fine,” Taehyung insists. “Magic drain isn’t a real thing.”

Namjoon frowns. “Yes, it is, Tae.”

Taehyung waves him off, shuffling to the side of Jeongguk’s bed to push himself in front of Jimin and draw Jeongguk into a gentle hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” He whispers.

“You, too.” Jeongguk says back, burying his face in Taehyung’s neck.

He wants to know exactly what happened, what Seokjin was planning with his father and how long he’s been asleep for, but the questions just don’t come. They have time. Taehyung sits on Yoongi’s lap on the chair, Yoongi wrapping his arms protectively around Taehyung.

Soon, a few nurses shoo the others away from the bed so they can run a few tests and check on Jeongguk, but Jimin refuses to leave his side or let go of his hand. They tell him that he’s been out for almost four days to recover from the rituals and the strain on his magic, but they want to keep him at least two more days. Jeongguk’s confused at first until Seokjin explains they’re in a hospital exclusively for those with magic, which were becoming more common in major cities.

Seokjin finds a marker once the nurses are done with Jeongguk, giving him a little more painkillers when the pain gets bad again. Seokjin and Hoseok clamber onto the bed, taking turns drawing on Jeongguk’s wrist and foot casts while Jimin sits against the headboard with Jeongguk, an arm around his shoulders as he starts to drift off, even though he’ll have to be woken soon because of the concussion. Yoongi suggests drawing a bunny and Taehyung laughs, kissing the top of his head and starting to draw a bunny on Jeongguk’s wrist cast.

Jeongguk smiles, nuzzling against Jimin. He feels Jimin press a kiss to the top of his head. He doesn’t know what comes next or where they go from here, but he does know he’ll finish out the semester with his best friends by his side. They’ll deal with what happened and Jeongguk’s injuries will heal. Maybe one day, his heart will heal, too.

Looking at his friends as he dozes, Jeongguk thinks that healing may come easier than he ever imagined.

“Jeongguk, hang those streamers.”

“I can’t stand on the chair.”

“Oh, yeah.” Yoongi frowns. “Fuck.”

“Guess all the streamers need to be on the floor,” Hoseok snickers.

“Fuck off.”

“You still haven’t told me what all of this is for,” Jeongguk whines.

He’s been relegated to the couch, sitting with his ankle plopped on a few pillows while Yoongi and Hoseok were decorating Taehyung and Jimin’s apartment with streamers, balloons, confetti, and a giant cutout of Kylo Ren that was going to give Jeongguk nightmares for months.

Yoongi stands on a chair to hang streamers from the ceiling. “We’re all usually too busy with classes and work to celebrate birthdays, so we do a joint one for Taehyung, Jimin, and Seokjin a few days after Christmas.”

Hoseok finishes blowing up a balloon, coughing violently. They’ve given Jeongguk the job of cutting paper and linking the pieces into chains to stick to the ceiling with tape. It’s difficult to do with his wrist still in a cast, but Taehyung’s been helping him get used to using his left hand to do basic things.

“Stupid ambidextrous Taehyung,” Jeongguk mutters, as another of his papers comes out crooked.

“Oh hush,” Yoongi says, doing a poor job of hiding his smile.

“Hoseok hyung, can you take me to the mall?”

“Why?” Hoseok asks, still out of breath as he struggles with the balloons.

“I need to get gifts.”

“Nope,” Hoseok says. “You don’t have to buy any of us anything.”

Jeongguk groans, tipping his head on the armrest. “But-”

But Seokjin had covered the medical bills before Jeongguk or his aunt could even lift a finger, saying the mayor owed him a favor and not to worry about it. (Jeongguk is more than a little worried as to why the mayor owes Seokjin a favor but he’s decided not to question it.) Taehyung had helped him learn to write, albeit poorly, with his left hand and took him on road trips when he started to go crazy from sitting inside all day. And Jimin helped him shower to mind his casts and his head, helped him change and held him when the pain was too much or his foot itched and he couldn’t reach it and touched his dick because Jeongguk couldn’t.

The least he could do was buy them birthday gifts, especially because Seokjin was still working closely with his father to track down everyone involved with the organization that had taken Jeongguk. They’d even gotten Jeongguk and his aunt into a new apartment in a better area of the city and Seokjin took his aunt fishing sometimes. They didn’t even bring Jeongguk along.

“When’s your birthday?” Yoongi asks, taking some of the faux streamers that Jeongguk had finished taping.

“September first,” Jeongguk says.

“Oh!” Hoseok gives up on another balloon. “Fuck, we missed it. Executive decision! This is a party for Jeongguk, too. Next year we’ll do a joint surprise party with Joonie’s.”

“It’s not a surprise if I know about it,” Jeongguk points out. He grabs the pencil he keeps nearby to try and itch down his cast.

Yoongi throws a pillow at him. “Keep it up and we’ll draw dicks on your casts.”

“You guys already did that!”

Hoseok laughs, and soon Yoongi and Jeongguk are joining in, too. The door opens a few minutes later and Namjoon shoulders his way in carrying a massive cake. “Whoever ordered a hundred cupcakes in the shape of a dick is not funny and I hate them.”

“Ah, man. I love Seokjin hyung.” Hoseok says fondly, showing Jeongguk a picture of the cupcake cake on his phone because he’s too tired to move. He’s still making up assignments and finals he missed, and walking around on crutches takes a lot more out of him than he thought it would. “By the way, this party’s for Jeonggukie now, too, so we’ll need a thousand more cupcakes.”

“Jeongguk, I love you, but no.”

Jeongguk snorts, handing off his streamers to Namjoon to finish the last of the decorations before they’re dimming the lights and gathering with Jeongguk on the couch to yell and scream when the others get there. They act pleasantly surprised, even though according to Yoongi this is the third year they’ve done this, and Seokjin takes great delight in the dick shaped cupcake cake.

“There could be more pink streamers,” Seokjin says, schooling his expression into something incredibly disappointed. He breaks easily, hugging Yoongi and then Namjoon and Hoseok, taking the seat next to Jeongguk on the couch. “How’s the numerous injuries?”

“This morning I stood up and only cried a little bit.”

Seokjin pats his head. “That’s the spirit.”

Taehyung and Yoongi squish onto the armchair, someone plays music and Hoseok makes everyone hold at least one balloon because he didn’t blow up all those balloons for no one to appreciate them, dammit. Jimin brings Jeongguk three cupcakes on a plate, taking the open spot on the couch next to Jeongguk and kissing his cheek.

Taehyung whistles, winking at Jeongguk when he glares. So Jeongguk still blushes like a fool when Jimin shows him any affection, so what?

They drink some wine and eat cupcakes, ordering takeout a little later when they’re all hungry enough. To a chorus of complaints, Yoongi reveals he’d bought everyone a birthday slash New Year’s gift and didn’t want to wait until they went out to ring in the new year to give them out.

The music gets progressively worse as everyone gets tipsy and then drunk, Seokjin and Hoseok pressing kisses to Namjoon’s cheeks at the same time. Taehyung snuggles under Yoongi’s arm, gazing longingly at the new sketchpad Yoongi had given him. Jeongguk thinks Yoongi is asleep, but every time he throws a cupcake wrapper at Yoongi he complains.

Jeongguk, decked out in his new scarf, plays cards against humanity with a very drunk Jimin, who’s far more interested in giving Jeongguk as many kisses as possible. Jeongguk doesn’t tell them about the Christmas gifts he has stashed under his bed, he just lets himself enjoy this moment, the hundred kisses Jimin places on his nose, Namjoon falling asleep on his other shoulder, and laughs so hard he nearly cries when midnight hits and everyone bursts out singing the birthday song as loud and off-key as possible.

“Who’s up for birthday karaoke?” Seokjin asks, long after they’ve finished the beer and wine and repeatedly threatened each other’s lives over a deadly game of Uno.

“Someone has to carry Jeongguk,” Namjoon says, dodging the mock punch that Jeongguk aims at his shoulder. He stands just out of Jeongguk’s reach, the fucker.

Jeongguk stuffs another cupcake in his mouth before standing carefully, Jimin holding out a hand to steady him as he reaches for his crutches. The night is still young and Taehyung giggles as he wraps Yoongi up in his scarf until only his eyes, fond and sparkling when they stare at Taehyung, are visible. Jimin taps his cheek.

“You feel up to going out?”

Nodding, Jeongguk pulls his jacket over one arm and drapes it over the other, letting Jimin button it. “We have to go all out for your birthday, right?”

Jimin smiles, his cheeks bunching before he stands on his toes to kiss Jeongguk’s nose. “Just having you here, safe and happy, is the best birthday present I could ask for.”

“Yeah?” Jeongguk hums, following everyone out of the apartment. Jimin stays close to him, warm against Jeongguk’s side. “I guess I’ll return the blowjob I was going to give you.”

“Let’s not be irrational, baby.”

Jeongguk laughs, throwing his head back before he leans heavily on Jimin’s sight. Jimin complains about Jeongguk being beefy and too big and too heavy to lean on. Jeongguk shifts into him just to mess with him, even though the doctors had told him to take it easy with the magic until the casts come off, it was worth it to Jeongguk to see the smile on Jimin’s face, the way Hoseok shifts into Jeongguk when they’re in the elevator.

“Are there any karaoke bars open tonight?” Taehyung asks, his arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders once he shifts back.

“We’re not going home until we find one,” Seokjin says.

And they step out into the cold night, arms around each other and hands in pockets, smiles brighter than the holiday lights strung up around the city.

“Hey you.”

Jimin drops on the blanket next to Jeongguk, hooking his arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders to kiss him deeply. It’s cold out, but Jeongguk borrowed Jimin’s jean jacket and conveniently forgot to give it back, and it’s warm and soft on his shoulders. The others sit down after him, settling around the blanket and the fire pit that Jimin lights.

Taehyung sketches, his fingers turning red because he’d forgotten gloves, his glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses. He’d made it snow the night before, and everything was beautiful and soft in the beginning of the year. The new semester had hit them hard, Namjoon spending long hours on campus as a TA, Yoongi taking even more shifts at the radio station. Jeongguk was so close to getting the cast off his foot he could taste it, and he couldn’t wait to go back to typing more than a few words a minute on his laptop.

“Ready for dinner tomorrow?” Jeongguk asks, snuggling into Jimin’s side.

In the first few weeks of the new year, they’d slowly started back up with Jeongguk’s magic training, waiting until he could walk a little better and focus more before doing so. After what happened in the abandoned building, shifting has come easier to Jeongguk, and he’s looking forward to developing his magic and himself in ways he hadn’t considered before. He still credits all of the control he has now to Jimin, but Jimin continuously insists that it was Jeongguk on his own, remembering all of their advice as he did so.

It’s a relief, truly, to not be so worried. Jeongguk doesn’t go to class nearly sick from anxiety at the thought of shifting into someone else and getting caught, or sitting on the subway hiding himself in the corner because he couldn’t control it and if just one person noticed, he’d be screwed.

Now, he doesn’t feel that fear. He visits Taehyung at the bar and sits in at Jimin’s kendo practices and waters plants with Namjoon, driving around the city with Seokjin when his magic leads him somewhere, and feels free. For the first time, Jeongguk doesn’t feel burdened by who he is.

There haven’t been many updates about the organization, occasional phone calls that Seokjin takes in the other room before heading out somewhere for the rest of the night. Yoongi and Namjoon tell him again and again not to worry about it. Seokjin’s father had taken a public stand condemning the organization and urged people to come forward with any information they could. Jieun had told Jeongguk during one of their lazy mornings together, where Jeongguk tried to teach her Overwatch and felt nothing but pain watching her play knowing he couldn’t save the game with his hand in a cast, that his parents called her to speak to him. Jeongguk hasn’t asked for their number to call them back.

Jimin groans, bringing Jeongguk back to the moment. Someone plays soft music from their phone. “No.”

“Oh come on,” Jeongguk giggles. “You’ve met my aunt before.”

“Not as your boyfriend!” Jimin argues. Around them, Yoongi and Hoseok share another blanket, Seokjin showing Namjoon something on his phone. “What if she hates me?”

“She literally texts you Facebook memes.”

“I don't see your point.”

Jeongguk squeezes Jimin's hand. "You're being ridiculous, babe."

"Mhm, let's see how you do when you meet my parents next month." Jimin kisses Jeongguk's temple, making him smile again.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Jeongguk says softly. “I love you lots and I know she does, too. You make me happy, and that’s the most important thing.”

Jimin smiles softly, brushing the hair away from Jeongguk’s eyes with his cold fingertips. “You make me happy too, Jeongguk-ah.”

“Quit moving so much,” Taehyung scolds them. “You’re ruining my drawing.”

Hoseok shifts into Taehyung and then Jeongguk does, too, laughing as Taehyung complains that his drawing was ruined. Jeongguk sits back, the blanket cold on top of the snow, looks around at the most important people in his life, and for the first time in his life, Jeongguk feels whole.