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having a witch for a boyfriend is much different than yoongi thought it would be. not that he ever thought about having a witch for a boyfriend. not that he ever thought witches would be real outside of story books and fairy tales. or that so many people he knows would have the same magical blood. park jimin. kim seokjin. “that girl over there, with the glasses and the pink hair,” jungkook whispers to him on the train, his voice airy light and hushing against yoongi’s ear. “she has magical tattoos on her arms and legs. no one else can see them, but they sort of shimmer when she walks in light. even bad led train lights.” or, “that guy standing by the pole, smoking,” jungkook says against yoongi’s mouth in a breathless giggle. yoongi pulls away and works at his neck. “he’s watching us. not because he’s a voyeur, hyung, stop looking like that - because he knows i’m a siren witch and we don’t come around seoul a lot. he’s got these rings on his fingers - mmm - and they’re supposed to help with electrical conduit - “ ever since yoongi off-handedly spoke about how he couldn’t believe the number of witches in seoul, jungkook has been apt to point them all out. a lot of them are young, like jungkook and jimin, in college or just out of college. but then a lot of them are people yoongi would have never expected, like the lady at the card shop, or the shoe-shiner down the street. people with skilled fingers and quiet mouths. the couple over there with their hands intertwined, both of them curling their ankles toward each other. both of them magic. witches - witches everywhere, spinning their webs beneath ley lines and subway tracks. jungkook likes showing yoongi the new world whenever they go out, spending time together. they come home sharing secretive smiles. yoongi feels warmth burst in him as he thinks of all the places jungkook has never shared with anyone, not even jimin. he’s surprised to see that one of these places is the subway. jungkook takes the train nearly all the time to get anywhere. yoongi prefers buses himself, but jungkook drags him down to the train all the time. when they’re sitting together, legs pressed against one another, jungkook curls his ankles around yoongi’s like the way he say the witch couple do. he rests his head on yoongi’s shoulder and says, “underground has powerful magic, hyung. the earth holds it, and every time you go deeper, the more you feel of it.” that’s why they see a lot of witches underground. it’s on the train that most of their interesting stories happen. one day, when yoongi is reading something on his phone, headphones being used by jungkook for whatever album he wants to hear at the moment, someone sneezes. the entire train car turns pink. yoongi swears loudly and blinks at the neon color; there’s not a lot of people there, only him, jungkook, two girls and a couple of college guys. it’s late at night, after all, and he and jungkook are just coming back from walking around hongdae. one of the girls is wiping at her nose, looking bothered, while the other is panicked. the college guys startle and look around; there are four of them, and all four of them start talking in loud voices, expressing their shock and disbelief quite well. at least two of them half to be drunk. yoongi pushes at jungkook’s shoulder and wakes him, an adorably sleepy expression coming over his face. “what the fuck is this,” one of the guys with a plaid shirt says. “is this a prank? are we on some video?” mohawk-haired guy says. who the fuck looks cool in a mohawk? (this was the exact same thing he said to namjoon when the latter wanted one. he still stands by it.) jungkook blinks at the pinkness around them. opens his mouth. “what happened when i was asleep,” he says, mouth hanging wide. “shit, shit, unnie do you think you can fix it?” one of the girls whisper a little too loudly. “of course i can, but how are we gonna get those assholes to shut up and forget about it?” “they’re drunk, they’ll forget!” except one of them clearly isn’t drunk - the kid with the glasses, trying to get his friends to calm down while simultaneously looking freaked out himself. jungkook looks at him questioningly, and yoongi shrugs. “one of them sneezed.” immediately, his face turns sympathetic. “ooh, that’s tough. i haven’t had this kind of thing happen in like, a month. last time i sneezed, our curtains turned purple with orange polka dots.” yoongi just nods along; it must be a witch thing. despite himself, he’s thinking about the sheer curtains in jungkook’s apartment with polka dots. jungkook yawns and gets up, swaying toward the two girls while rubbing his eyes. “excuse me, do you need help?”one of the girls is tapping something on the now pink walls of the train car. the other looks at jungkook with a slightly worried gaze. “you’re magic too?” jungkook nods. he points to the college guys. “want me to make them forget?” “yes please,” she says, before her eyes slide over to yoongi questioningly. yoongi raises his hands in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “i’m just the human boyfriend.” jungkook pats him on the cheek and leaves a lingering kiss on yoongi’s cheek. it feels different than usual - jungkook’s lips have a bit of a tingle to them that washes over yoongi when his fingers pull away. despite himself, yoongi leans toward it before jungkook is walking over to the four college boys. “who’re you,” one of them slurs. plaid shirt peers up at him. “what’re you doing?” jungkook instead smiles disarmingly at the guy in glasses. “can i sing you a song?” when yoongi isn’t affected by jungkook’s powerful song, he realizes what the other did when he pressed a little kiss on yoongi’s cheek. his fingers reach up to press at the skin there. jungkook’s voice is lilting and soft and entirely convincing; all four boys start to slump into one another as jungkook leans over them, fixing their positions so they won’t wake up with crinks in their necks. when the last of them closes their eyes, helpless against jungkook’s song, jungkook finishes off the notes of the last melody, words unknown to yoongi. he never knows what language jungkook is speaking in. he ambles back to yoongi and leans against the pole there. he turns to the girls - the one who sneezed moved to the opposite side of the train car, finishing up some type of rune on the wall she’s drawn with her fingers. “they won’t realize what happened when they wake up, just assume they got blackout drunk,” jungkook yawns. he looks sleepy again, but yoongi did wake him from his nap. “thank you so much,” the other girl says. the girl previously mutters something and the pink color almost bleeds out of the wall, forming a little bubble in the middle of the room before shrinking in on itself and disappearing completely. the train car comes back cleaner and shinier, a fresh coat of silver paint. jungkook settles back against yoongi’s side. “wake me up when we get home,” he murmurs, eyes already falling shut. yoongi threads hands through his hair fondly.
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“hyung, why are you always here,” jimin whines, sinking down into his beanbag-like sofa. he has his hair mussed, dark circles underneath his eyes. “shouldn’t you be doing senior people things?” “namjoon,” yoongi says lazily from where he’s resting and sitting at the counter top. honestly, namjoon might have been done screwing around with seokjin ages ago, but yoongi sticks around for two things: to fuck with jimin and maybe if he’s lucky to fuck with jungkook. in a fun, boyfriend-esque kind of way. “i want to go on a date with taaaeee,” jimin leans over to stuff his head in a cushion. “jungkookieeeee.” jungkook is doing something with a bunch of empty jars. “no, hyung.” “you didn’t even know what i was going to ask.” “whatever it is, no.” jungkook states again. he’s got his tongue poking out as he concentrates, brows furrowed. it looks like he’s trying to pour something in his precious glass jars - which he bought earlier today, carrying fourteen of them home by himself before yoongi caught him and helped out - that is gold colored and viscous. yoongi is surprised he can see it at all, actually. with a lazy eye, he sets down his phone and asks, “do i want to know?” “it’s for jimin hyung’s problem,” jungkook answers calmly, not even bothering to look away. “he has - “ “i don’t know what you talk about with your boyfriend but that should not be one of them,” jimin practically shrieks. “that is secret, jeon jungkook!” jungkook doesn’t bothering looking in his direction, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling slightly. “will you tell me later?” yoongi raises an eyebrow. “if i do that, then i have to tell jimin-hyung about the, uh…that one potion where - “ “nevermind,” yoongi scowls, ears turning red. he doesn’t want to think about that potion. he’s learned the hard way that one shouldn’t drink things left innocuously on the counter, especially not in his boyfriend’s apartment. the two hours of uncomfortableness and cold showers did not help. thank god jimin was on some sleepover date with taehyung and jungkook didn’t laugh too much at him. “what,” jimin says faintly behind them, “what is this? what is this potion you’re talking about?” “done,” jungkook announces, setting down the bowl he was using, patterned with flowers. “hyung, if you want to use these, do so before they get too old and start eating through the glass again. i don’t want another acidic breakdown.” yoongi almost chokes. jimin comes rushing over, grabbing a glass jar, face red. “i will.” he runs off to the bathroom. yoongi looks after him incredulously, not wanting to know what the hell he’s doing in there but kind of curious anyway. jungkook sees this and leans over to press a kiss against yoongi’s cheek. as he’s pulling away he says, “jimin-hyung has skin problems he’s embarrassed about. don’t mention it in front of him. he would make it himself but he’s always putting too much silk powder.” yoongi wants to say that’s it, but they both know how jimin is sensitive to this kind of stuff, so yoongi just nods quietly. “please keep it secret, jimin-hyung will kill me,” jungkook asks, even though he looks half done with jimin’s shit too. “it’s kind of crazy how many secrets you keep for people,” yoongi comments, picking up his phone again, thinking about his own embarrassing stint with potions that aren’t finished giving people boners for hours. “god help whoever crosses you, huh?” “i wouldn’t use that knowledge for bad purposes,” jungkook smiles. then he turns around and leans forward so that his chin is resting on yoongi’s shoulder before he asks in his nicest voice, “can we get lamb skewers, hyung?” it’s more like a statement: we’re getting lamb skewers. yoongi pats his jacket to make sure his wallet’s there. no telling what jungkook has got on yoongi behind that cute smile of his. (it’s kind of sad how, two hours later, yoongi thinks that he doesn’t really mind if jungkook keeps all his secrets at all. at least they’d be in good hands.)
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at first, yoongi’s not really planning to get jungkook anything for valentine’s day. after dating the other for a couple of months, it’s obvious that unless it’s something of great importance to jungkook, he’s - well - not that great at receiving gifts. of course he likes it when someone gives him one, but he’d prefer it if he didn’t have to physically take them by himself. i get embarrassed, he had once told yoongi, fiddling with his fingers, and the gifts…it makes me uncomfortable. i feel guilty for taking things. yoongi wants to give him a lot of things, but he’s stupid when it comes to romantic sentimentality. they fit each other’s broken pieces. this was, of course, before kim taehyung showed up at the doorway of his studio, looking nervous and a little bit scared. yoongi didn’t know why (he completely knew why) the other was afraid of him. taehyung dropped by once or twice because this was namjoon’s studio as well, but he rarely came along without his orange tag-along of a boyfriend. yoongi lets him walk in and takes off his headphones, a sign that he’s listening.“ah, hyung, this is really weird but,” taehyung shuffles a little, his nose dusted pink. “canyoupleasehelpmeproduceasong?” yoongi blinks, unfazed, used to quick words. “what for?” taehyung turns a deeper shade of embarrassment. “uh, valentine’s day is soon, and i wanted to write jiminie a song…but i have no idea how i would do it…” “ah,” yoongi says, because that’s true, isn’t it? his female coworkers have started to pin paper hearts to the wall, wearing makeup to work, pink clothes and shorter skirts. their enthusiasm is effervescent and lights up the workplace. with hearts. “stop, i know it’s lame,” taehyung says, almost flopping down on the seat that namjoon usually occupies, “but - but that’s what valentine’s day is all about! cheesiness! so i’m writing him a song.” he hums for a moment then asks, “what are you getting jungkookie, hyung?” yoongi pauses. “uh.” taehyung’s eyes widen. “hyung? you’re getting jungkookie a gift, right?” yoongi hasn’t gotten jungkook a gift. “jungkook may look like he doesn’t want one, hyung, but - “ taehyung leans forward and yoongi finds himself doing so as well, as if they’re trading secrets. “everyone likes gifts. even jungkookie. when i used to give him extras along with his usual potions, he would always get this smile on his face and be in a happy mood all day.” taehyung leans back and nods. yoongi thinks of jungkook’s smile, his pink mouth pulling back to reveal his overbite that he’s so conscious about. he wants to see that smile. “ah, fuck,” he says. and taehyung asks, bouncing in the chair, “can we start on my song now?” /he doesn’t know what the hell to get jungkook for valentines day. yoongi usually gave past significant others whatever they wanted, or took them out on a date, but that was always a bit exhausting - try getting a nice place for yourself and one other on valentine’s day - and jungkook had expressed that he’d wanted a quiet day. yoongi asks everyone. they each give him varying answers. taehyung shrugs, saying, “i don’t know hyung, as long as you don’t write him a song! that’s my idea this year!” namjoon: “uh, underwear? i don’t know.” hoseok: “give him one of those coupon books, you know like you used to give to your parents, instead it’ll be like - one blowjob a - ow, hyung, ow!” seokjin: “just take him out to a nice restaurant! i’m sure you could…find a reservation…by then…?” jimin: “flowers. get him flowers. get him these flowers.” jimin had shown him a picture of a red and orange mess on his phone, brightly patterned. they reminded yoongi of poisonous frogs, but jimin looked entirely serious and had gone back to stare at the flowers wistfully, like it was a lost lover or something. so yoongi went home and ordered a bouquet online. he felt dumb and stupid when he did it, and they asked if he wanted to put a goddamn note, to which - yoongi was going to write something else but he chickened out last minute feeling uncomfortable with the depth of his own feelings and left a simple, from yoongi on them.fast forward a week to valentine’s day. the workplace is booming with the sound of bubbly kpop songs and no one is really paying attention to music making. one person is wearing a heart suit. he looks kind of miserable, but when two girls kiss him on the cheek he turns the shade of his suit. namjoon leaves early, citing date night. seokjin had gotten them a table at his favorite restaurant or something. yoongi finished up what he needed to do for the day and texted jungkook; want anything to eat?the younger didn’t respond back. yoongi let it go and got food anyway; chinese take out. when he got to the other’s door, it was already open. as if jungkook knew he was coming. when he goes inside, yelling out, “jungkook?” the first thing that assaults him is the scent of something floral and calming. yoongi blinks and double-takes; on the living room floor is jungkook, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bangs held back with a clip. he’s pressing down flowers on some sort of towel, the bouquet that yoongi ordered for him looking more ostentatious and gaudy in real life than in a picture. jungkook notices him and beams. “hyung! you’re here.” “yeah, i…brought food.” yoongi looks down at the pile of pressed flowers on the side, fragile and thin as crumpling paper. “um..” jungkook uncrosses his long legs and makes sure not to knock over anything with his feet; his jeans are rolled up to the knee. he holds a flower in his fingers and practically jumps on yoongi to kiss him on the cheek. “thank you so much,” he says, shoving the flower in yoongi’s face. “do you know how hard it is to get these? they rarely grow anywhere locally, so no one sells them, and you have to hand press flowers like this or else their properties won’t stay so no one sells them, and you can only buy these online but it’s always been too much money!” well, there was a valentines day sale, yoongi thinks to himself gratefully. “i’m glad you liked them?” he says, voice bordering on asking. “i love them,” jungkook tells him, already going back to his little spot on the floor. “the amount of stuff i can try making with these…i have enough of a supply for six months at least.” his face is alight with happiness. yoongi thinks back to jimin’s wistful look. of course. yoongi sets down the food on the counter, and as he’s putting everything out on the counter - he’s gonna eat at least, if his boyfriend won’t - he feels two arms around his middle, a tickle of sweet-smelling hair when he turns around. “hyung, thank you,” jungkook murmurs, burying his face in yoongi’s shoulder, hands held in tiny fists around yoongi’s stomach. “happy valentine’s day.” “mm,” yoongi says, reaching up to tug jungkook’s face toward his own, curling a hand over his jawline. he kisses him slow and quick, just a quick press of the lips. “how about you take a break, huh?” “okay,” jungkook agrees, smiling wide enough that his pink lips reveal all his teeth, the front two with his cute overbite. yeah, that was the real magic yoongi was going for.
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one would think that being a supernatural being would make holidays like halloween and all saints’ day seem like an insult, or a farce. people dress up like you and act like you and try to be you, and isn’t that supposed to be insulting? wearing orange pumpkin hats and fake witch cloaks and spouting boo in your face - that’s… insulting, isn’t it? that’s what yoongi and namjoon thought. meanwhile, when they enter jungkook and jimin’s apartment for some kind of halloween get together, presumably just to have an excuse to party or do something similar, they find that when they mean a halloween “get together” they mean an explosion of halloween in your face. jimin is the one that greets them at their door, which is innocuously decorated with a tiny little ghost saying “boo! welcome!” hanging on their front door. once namjoon fixes up his beanie - orange, for the festivities - they knock on the front. jimin opens the door in a split second, grinning wide. he has on black cat ears, a large soft black pullover, and a choker with a fucking bell. yoongi is bewildered. “happy halloween, guys!” jimin beams brightly, looking between namjoon and yoongi before pulling them both in. “come in! all hallow’s eve and all, it’s not good to stand outside the door for too long.” “you’re in costume,” namjoon says dumbly. he and yoongi step over the threshold. “well, yes,” jimin says, giving them an odd look, “why wouldn’t i be? it’s halloween.” the inside of their apartment, usually different from what is to be expected normally of two college students due to the amount of charms, bells, and talismans that there usually is, suddenly has exponentially increased in the level of general witchiness. there are draped clothes all over the ceilings with lights that make the entire place seem like an assorted set of colors ranging from gold to green to red to orange. there are spiderwebs on walls that don’t look like the fake 100 won ones you buy at the party store, but legitimate spider webs with glistening silk threads sprawled across all corners and spaces. there are orange and green jack-o-lanterns placed against the walls, seemingly hanging in midair - magic, probably. jungkook sits in the middle of their living room, cross-legged on their ancient persian rug. he’s fiddling with something in his hands and in front of him is one of those portable stoves like yoongi had when he was a freshman in college, with a - “is that a cauldron,” namjoon coughs, surprised. “oh my god, what.”there’s a tiny mini-sized cauldron on top of the stove, and jungkook is leaning over it reproachfully, as if it’s not following his wishes on purpose. he isn’t wearing anything elaborate like jimin is, just a simple multi-colored sweater and a little pumpkin headband that is, admittedly, really cute. his boyfriend has a tiny pumpkin on his head. if that won’t make yoongi like halloween, he doesn’t know what will. “it’s supposed to be witches’ brew,” jungkook mutters, “but someone dropped something in here that wasn’t supposed to be in here and now it’s all screwed up - “ “i have no idea what you’re talking about,” jimin says airily. yoongi catches the jaws of odd looking things and thinks of eye of newt, frog’s tongue before realizing he can actually see some body parts in there. jungkook takes one of those jars and twirls his finger in the air; two pink appendages come out and drop right into the cauldron. yoongi chooses not to think about it. “make it candy corn flavored,” jimin says seriously. jungkook throws the jar at him. at the moment, namjoon goes to get the door that’s been ringing for the past few minutes; taehyung is at the door, holding onto a bouquet of orange roses and dressed as sakura from cardcaptor sakura. yoongi has to blink a couple of times to get used to him, but he does, eventually. “all we need is seokjin-hyung and hobi-hyung,” jungkook says from where he’s sitting on the floor. jimin is wrangling something off his face, one of the few things that caught onto his skin when jungkook threw the open jar at his face; jimin stopped it with magic, but not everything stayed inside. namjoon is helping him peel it off now. “i think they’re coming a bit later, something about meeting with other hedge witches to bless a couple houses.” “awesome,” taehyung beams, going over to his older brother and boyfriend to help them out. he still has the orange roses in hand, but yoongi supposes that it’s a little bit null now; jimin’s a little busy.a little too late, yoongi remembers that jungkook’s mother bloomed red roses. he wonders if jungkook likes them as well; should he have brought flowers? but this isn’t a date? why did taehyung bring flowers? on second thought, why is he thinking things based off of taehyung? that kid does whatever he wants. yoongi eventually sits beside jungkook on the floor, leaning against the couch. almost immediately, jungkook waves his hand over the pot and stirs it once, twice, before it begins to steam and tip over the sides like it’s got dry ice or something in it. seemingly satisfied, jungkook waves a hand and a cup floats over from the kitchen; he dips it straight into the cauldron, bringing up a cup of dark purple liquid. then he turns it right over to yoongi. beaming, jungkook says, “so. hyung.” “nope,” yoongi replies. “ah, but hyung,” jungkook sidles up to him, the drink still in midair, “you’re the best here at holding your alcohol - “ “so that has alcohol?” “ - and you’re always up for trying new drinks, so why not try this one? the purple color is just dye i got from blueberries! see, it’s got blueberries in it!” “i’m pretty sure i saw you put a tongue of some animal there.” “that’s not important,” jungkook says seriously, looking at him with those big eyes, “you gotta try it and tell me how it is, hyung.” and because yoongi is dumb and weak, he takes it from jungkook and sips right away, not even thinking about trying to convince himself not to. it - tastes pretty good, actually. sort of like some lime fizzy soda and possibly vodka but yoongi isn’t too sure, he doesn’t really drink vodka often. he smacks his lips and says, “huh.” “yes, fucking finally,” jungkook sighs, leaning back and putting his head against yoongi’s shoulder. there’s a yell of victory from the kitchen area, where they probably got the appendage off of jimin. yoongi tries not to think about the fact that he may be drinking it as well. “i’ve been trying for hours! to get it right!” “hours?” “witches’ brew is different for everyone and takes a lot of time,” jungkook says a little primly, but his ears are red, and - “it’s because every witches’ brew is different, and jungkook forgot his own recipe!” jimin snickers, rubbing at his now red cheek. there’s a stray orange rose tucked behind his ear. jungkook’s face is pink now. apparently this is something to be embarrassed over. “i didn’t forget, i just - “ “this is why i told you to write it down!” “says the one who can’t even make a simple caffeine potion in the morning and always whines for me to do it - “ “shut up,” jimin points at him. jungkook sticks out his tongue in response and curls up next to yoongi, pushing aside the stove with his toe so that it’s laying on the side of the room instead of the middle. “i’ll fix it up later so it looks more spooky,” jungkook says. “hyung, did you eat?” “not really,” yoongi replies, taking another drink of jungkook’s brew, which is really fucking good actually. “i thought i was going to eat here.” “that’s if jimin hyung brought the food, we got stuff from outside this time around,” jungkook explains. he pauses so taehyung can give them both orange roses from his bouquet. namjoon is seriously placing his own in his hair. “let’s wait for the others,” yoongi says, entwining their fingers together. he feels the characterstic feeling of being lightheaded and - “shit, i think i might be drunk, what did you put in this?” jungkook just laughs.
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“hyung, what are you doing?” jungkook settles down next to yoongi in his apartment, getting comfortable in his boyfriend’s apartment with relative ease. his sofa is nowhere near as comfortable as jungkook’s, but the younger will take what he can get. yoongi looks like the picture of productivity; surrounded on all sides by leaflets and papers, his laptop open on the desk in front of him and his keyboard plugged in and pushed to the side. jungkook takes one of yoongi’s arms and takes it upon himself to put it over his shoulders, sinking into his side. he frowns a little when yoongi doesn’t even answer, clicking on his laptop endlessly. “hyung,” jungkook starts again, butting his head gently against yoongi’s side. “stop looking at the screen before you go blind.” “hn,” yoongi replies, opening up another program. he goes to use both hands to type, but jungkook has a hold on one of his arms; instead of chastising him, yoongi just goes on typing with one hand. “if you don’t look at me i’ll go ask namjoon to kiss me,” jungkook deadpans, and smiles in victory when yoongi scowls and flicks him on the head with the arm jungkook stole. the witch considers it a victory when yoongi lies back against the couch, tense shoulders relaxing as he heaves out a final breath. “what’s wrong?” jungkook asks quietly, nudging yoongi’s foot with his own. “just this song,” yoongi mumbles, blinking rapidly to get the tiredness out of his eyes. “i just can’t seem to make our vocal mix well with the rest of the soundtrack. she doesn’t have the kind of voice i want for the song, and it’s obvious that forcing the issue isn’t working.” he licks his lips. “damn.” jungkook starts humming, indicating that he’s paying attention. quietly, jungkook uses a hand to trace out patterns on yoongi’s chest; they might seem like nonsense or simple shapes, but jungkook finishes his humming and closes his eyes and the wind speaks back to his demand. it’s nice and cool in the room, suddenly, nothing like the stuffiness it was before, and jungkook smiles. yoongi doesn’t realize it for a couple of moments before he wryly says, “thank you.” “fresh air always helps,” jungkook says, patting him. yoongi looks on listlessly at his computer screen, so jungkook closes it shut with a wave of his finger. yoongi closes his eyes, finally, maybe just in realization that he really does need a break. jungkook’s humming turns into something else; not really a song with words, just a general murmur and a maybe a little stretching of notes, taking them for a spin. he creates any song from the depths of his memory, from his magic humming and responding, from the wind willingly carrying his tune. yoongi huffs out a laugh. “i can’t believe you,” he says, but he sounds a little awed. his thumb reaches up to brush against jungkook’s cheek, then again at his lower lip. when jungkook looks up at him, he’s smiling. jungkook smiles, too.
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when yoongi goes to visit jungkook after spring break, feeling all good and warm from his time back in daegu, he expects a lot of things; a moment alone with his boyfriend, fingering the leather bracelet in his pocket with uneasy fingers (wondering when he should give it to the younger), jungkook singing him some new composition he’s been working on, a kiss on the cheek? maybe? what he’s not expecting is a face full of black goo as soon as he enters and a shriek.“JIMIN HYUNG,” jungkook’s voice goes past yelling with a tinge of irritation all the way to pissed off. when he gets to this level of upset, his voice tends to get higher and higher until he’s positively red in the face. yoongi doesn’t want to admit that it’s cute, but it’s really cute. he never mentions this fact to jungkook. not to his face, at least. he doesn’t want to die. “shit, what is this?” yoongi mumbles, pulling the goop away from his face. it’s squishy, almost like one of those deflated slimes he used to make from prepackaged science kits as a kid. or like a deflated ball. yoongi pulls the rest off his face, wincing when he feels it tug on his eyebrows. he stops there immediately. jungkook is covered in head to toe with the black goop. he’s trying to remove it from his arms by scraping it off angrily; yoongi imagines that if he could stomp his foot, he would. their usually disordered living room is sent into a mess of black slime. it’s everywhere, from the walls to the floor and on the doorframe. yoongi even sees it coating the pretty red amaryllis flowers jungkook has potted and put on a corner table, right next to a vase of jimin’s yellow sunflowers. yoongi steps in and quietly closes the door. they never lock their apartment; something about a charm or a spell keeping people out unless they’re known by jungkook and jimin specifically. yoongi doesn’t know; his boyfriend hasn’t been robbed yet, so he won’t say anything. jimin, meanwhile, is the only one that’s not covered. he’s standing in front of a cauldron that’s situated in the middle of their living room. it’s on a stone palette, larger than any other cauldron yoongi has ever seen either witch use. when jungkook sees yoongi, his ears only seem to get redder. he points in yoongi’s direction - well, more like jabs - and splutters, “look! at him! hyung, how many times - i can’t even believe - “ “jungkookie,” jimin bemoans, “your hyung did it as an accident! the lacewing flies and crosswing flies look so alike!” “that’s why the jars are labelled!” “oh, i didn’t see...” jimin mumbles, and then chuckles when jungkook glares at him. “sorry? you know i’m usually good with reading your labels! they can just get a bit confusing - “ “are you dragging my labelling system? hyung, at least it’s better than yours! ‘just remembering’ won’t help when you’ve got a shitton of things to keep track of!” “well - “ yoongi stops listening to this conversation, already hearing it enough throughout his life so far (that being said: one too many times.) jungkook is generally disorganized, but yoongi has learned that his disorganization is a form of organized chaos. he always seems to know where something is, even if it doesn’t seem like it. his labelling system is a bit weird, yoongi knows, but jungkook always knows where his ingredients are, so who is yoongi to say anything about it? on the other hand, jimin is much more organized when it comes to schoolwork and his clothes, but he’s the type to do all that organization in one go and then slowly let it deteriorate until he’s in the mood to do it all over again. he gets confused between what he’s done and what he hasn’t done, and often forgets where he put things beforehand. yoongi puts a hand on jungkook’s shoulder just as the other raises his arms in a gesture of complete indignance. “hey, come on,” yoongi starts, “let’s clean up and then you and i will go for lunch, okay?” “ugh, lunch,” jungkook starts, “i can’t go out like this. i stink. we had reservations for the bibimbap place, right?” “reservations? what for?” jimin perks up, but then clears his throat sheepishly when jungkook turns to stare at him. “nothing, really,” yoongi responds candidly. “jungkook wanted to go and i wanted to go, so i made a reservation on the day we were both free.” “when is it, in an hour?” jungkook sniffles, wiping his face. “i hope i can get clean by then. scrubbing is the only way to get this stuff off.” “if you scrub yourself, yeah,” yoongi says, standing still as jungkook notices the goop on him and stares plucking it off with gentle fingers. “sure,” jungkook starts, “jimin can do all this by himself.” “jungkooook,” jimin starts, but doesn’t fight it. he is the reason why they have black goop everywhere. jimin grumbles something but waves two fingers; a mop, bucket, and three sponges come over to sit by him. jungkook snaps his fingers and another sponge and industrial grade soap hits jimin in the face. he manages to catch the bottle before it gets him, but the sponge smacks him straight in between the eyes. jungkook is feeling vindictive, apparently. “hyung,” jungkook starts, looking over to blink at him through black slime, “do you wanna come shower with me?” for some reason, he still looks attractive even covered in shit. yoongi swallows thickly and coughs, and jimin groans, covering his ears and talking loudly over them about something or the other. yoongi peels off black slime from his face and flicks it at jimin, where a piece of it gets into his mouth. he makes a similar sound to the shriek yoongi first heard, and jungkook starts cracking up behind him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
when yoongi traces the bottom curve of jungkook’s jaw, both of them slumped together in a mess on the couch, he doesn’t mean to start anything. his hands wander, minds of their own, from the fingers curled around jungkook’s hip, peeking through his sweats - to the other slumped across his stomach. they’ve gone through numerous configurations to get where they are right now, in this moment, in this hour; jungkook sprawled half on yoongi, the other half of him over the couch, one of his socks falling off. he’s warm and smells like detergent. they’re watching some medical drama on netflix, both their eyes tracing the beeping sounds on screen and the long, painful stares between actors. “are we on the last episode,” yoongi asks sleepily, and jungkook yawns in return. “i think so,” he smacks his lips together, shifts so that his legs are brought close to his body again and he’s digging sharply into yoongi’s side. muffled, he says, “why are we watching this.” “there was a cop drama,” yoongi mumbles referring back to when they wanted to wait for the cop drama that was supposed to come after this show. in reality, they’ve been watching this trash show for a couple hours now, so much so that yoongi doesn’t even mind jungkook’s elbows on his thigh. “the window is long gone,” jungkook sighs. “i don’t want to get up, though. crisis.” “crisis,” yoongi agrees. one of the patients on screen dies. without much sympathy, yoongi wonders how such a good premise can be afflicted with such awful writing. his free hand reaches up to run through jungkook’s hair. he reaches over and presses his mouth there; not a kiss, but intimacy. jungkook’s fingers curl into his side. “we can do this the easy way,” yoongi starts amiably, and his boyfriend huffs. it’s no secret that jungkook likes what he does, but sometimes can feel more than lazy enough to use what he’s got for simple things, yoongi rubs his hands through his hair, though, and something in him slumps, boneless and tired. jungkook moves into it and then sighs, faux put-upon, and tilts his head up. “c’mere.” this could be why he likes it so much too, yoongi supposes. jungkook’s bangs slip away from his face and his face is bloated and tired, but he’s never looked more attractive. yoongi leans down and meets his lips halfway, their mouths pressing together like every answer ever needed. yoongi’s fingers curl across his jawline, thumb against his cheekbone, and jungkook’s hand comes up to press yoongi closer to him. the tell tale tingle of magic is what makes them separate - jungkook’s little signature, yoongi thinks fondly, the feeling he gets when jungkook’s put his spell on him. slowly, he begins to sing, words of an unfamiliar language spilling from his lips, weaving through the air. the television shuts; the curtains close properly, and a blanket moves from the bedroom to settle over the both of them with a thump; one of the throw pillows is replaced with a proper down pillow. yoongi is glad that there is only the both of them in the apartment. he lies back, more comfortable on the pillow, and jungkook continues to rest on him. “i don’t know why you love that,” he mumbles, yawning. “so extra.” yoongi says nothing in return, still feels the tingle on his mouth even after the magic is long gone.