The first time that Jimin lays eyes on Yoongi, it's amongst a flurry of snow, emblazoned by flames.
The midway December snow is far from gentle as it casts it's blanket across the rooftops and cobbled grounds of Seoul. Despite the aggressive nature in which it falls, the sight of streets stretched in white and the feeling of snow crunching softly beneath the soles of Jimins shoes is enough to have him smiling, the contrast almost laughable.
Patters of it settle around his shoulders, litter his hair and the beanie he'd unceremoniously shoved on his head on his way out this morning, and seem to stick in his eyelashes, seeping cold into his skin. The touch stings, but as Jimin cranes his neck up at the sky, pure ivory, he finds his smile only growing.
The streets are busy this time of day, the afternoon dragging sleep hazed workers nursing headaches from their computer screens, outside in search for a warm lunch in an atmosphere decidedly less stressful than their own. Jimin finds himself dodging a couple women attempting to keep one another upright where the snow from last night seems to have dissipated slightly, revealing long slips of ice that can't wait to trap ankle boot wearers and those ridiculous enough to brave high heels. He presses his lips together to hold in a laugh when one of the woman skids and shrieks, almost dragging her red faced friend down with her, and silently thanks the strong grip on his own combat boots.
Taehyung had enchanted them last night, complaining that Jimin wouldn't make it two feet let alone the journey to work downtown. Jimin had scoffed at the time, but now he reminds himself to thank Taehyung as soon as he reaches the shop, lips quirking up into a smile at his friends attempt at nurturing.
He skirts his way through the evergrowing crowds easily enough, making the next left turn down towards the centre. He's not far from work now, and so he lets himself slacken his pace just a little, after all, there's only so much enchanted boots can do to keep him upright. He'll have to rely on his balance for the rest.
The centre is a bustle of a crowd, unsurprisingly. The pavement is much more shaved down of snow, footsteps imprinted in the stuff in every which way, having trampled it down to the point of a dirty brown sludge. It still bares it's own warning though, Jimin finds as he skids a couple centimetres whilst crossing into the road.
In fact, he's far too busy paying attention to his footwork to not notice the motionless crowd of people he suddenly stumbles into, and it's not until he walks into the back of a large, stocky man, that he jerks to a stop himself, breath catching on instinct.
"S-sorry." He stutters, shooting the man an apologetic look. He recieves nothing in return, though isn't all that surprised. The city comprised itself of hard shelled and miserable citizens, after all.
What does surprise him though, is what the man's looking at.
Well, what the small crowd he's somehow ended up in the middle of is looking at.
Street performers are hardly rare in the centre of Seoul, in fact they line the streets, poetry or song bursting from their lips or bodies moving with a startlingly fludity. They cradle guitars to their torsos or paintbrushes in hands usually though.
They do not, conjure fire from their bare palms.
The crowd around him seems to sing in praise, gasps and 'wow's' ripped from their lips as they stare, wide eyed at the hooded man standing on the platform before them. The man next to Jimin jerks back in shock when a flame shoots past his neck, and Jimin almost chokes on his breath because no way.
Whilst folks without magic are ,for obvious reasons, unable to really understand and percieve magic in all of it's forms, (It's hard to see something that you don't exactly believe in, after all) as someone that's grown up within the wizarding world, it hardly takes Jimin more than three seconds to realise that the ball of flames currently dancing upon the hooded mans palm, is far from a simple fake magicians trick scoured from some magic for dummies! CD.
Jimin exhales rather harshly, eyes growing wide.
Magic outside of the wizarding world is illegal!
He almost stumbles when another flame dances it's way through the crowd, only just missing a womans left ear. He can feel the heat from here, coccooning the small crowd in it's embrace. The woman laughs it off, excitement marring her features, and Jimin can only gawk, because really? This is ridiculous.
If he's discovered, he'll be arrested on the spot.
The Wizarding Bureau of Seoul is hardly soft when it comes to such crimes, and the man before Jimin could find himself facing a lifetime in prison for using magic in a world where it would cause nothing but fear and trouble. This is wrong, so wrong.
Revealing magic in public can only endanger the whole community, it could out them all, and whilst the bureau has ways to protect the privacy of the wizarding world in such instances, the trouble and the danger it could still cause them all would remain irrevocable.
Suddenly, Jimin's a little angry.
He watches, feet rooted to the snow soiled ground beneath him as the hooded figure wiggles his fingers, each tip igniting with a deep, blue flame. The people around Jimin fall into wonder fueled gasps all over again, clearly enamoured at the sight, and beneath the fabric of the mans hood Jimin just catches sight of a small smirk.
Wow, stupid and cocky.
He can't help it honestly, when he scoffs.
The sound is loud enough to cause a couple of the people next to him to shoot stink eyes over their shoulders, mouths twisted down in unfavourable frowns. The man Jimin had bumped into sends him a withering glance, and Jimin almost rolls his eyes, because seriously, they'll fall for anything.
It takes him a moment to realise that there's a striking absence of flames rather suddenly, and when he shifts to return his gaze to the figure on the podium, he's surprised to see he's already being watched. Suddenly the figure on the podium is swiping his hood down, revealing shocking blonde hair and dark, narrow eyes that settle in on him with a startling amount of intensity.
If it wasn't for the small smirk quirking at the mans lips, Jimin would find himself quaking just slightly.
"Not a fan?" A deep, rumble of a voice questions. It's loud, dances over the heads of the women infront of Jimin. He's been caught.
Without his permission Jimin feels himself start to flush, the heat travelling down from his cheeks to his neck and collarbones. His heart skitters just a little, and he sucks in a shaking breath, willing his voice to work. No need to feel embarrassed.
"Usually the ones that don't like my performances, don't watch." The man says, tilting his head to study Jimin more carefully. His pale skin stands out against the snow still, obsidian eyes raking over Jimins features with unwavering intimidation. When he cocks a brow Jimin feels his flush deepen, and he mentally curses himself because he's surely the same colour as his bloody hat right about now.
"Unless you stayed for something else?" The guy's smirk deepens at that, and Jimin grits his teeth, mortified. Of course not.
"Perhaps I just see through your tricks." He snaps before he can stop himself, crossing his arms when the man's eyes widen slightly in surprise. Jimin can see it, the exact moment that the man realises just who Jimin is, what he is, something knowing flickering behind those kohl eyes before he's nodding slightly, lips parting a little.
"I see." He murmurs, lashes fluttering when he takes a step down off of the podium. The crowd are starting to disperse now, clearly bored with the lack of actual fire shooting from the mans palms. They shuffle off in opposite directions, seeking out warmth elsewhere for the rest of their lunchbreak.
Jimin watches as the blonde stoops to pocket the money the crowd had thrown into a hat at his feet, and hopes that he atleast comes off as a little intimidating when he speaks.
"You do realise that what you're doing is extremely dangerous, right?Not to mention illegal."
The man shoots him a long look, one brow raised. "I'm hardly frightened of the Bureau." His nonchalance is honestly astounding.
"You could endanger the whole wizarding community by performing out here like some kind of monkey-"
"Spare me the lecture, kid." Blondie scoffs, raking a hand through his hair."I know what I'm doing."
Jimin colours, anger flaring. Kid?! "Oh, really? Where are your obscuring charms? Your protection spells? You don't even have someone on lookout-"
Suddenly he's alot closer, almost just inches away as he ducks his head to peer into Jimins eyes. "And are you planning on telling anyone?" He asks, the menacing tone of his voice almost enough to have Jimin choking on his own breath. The man cocks his head again, fringe falling into narrow eyes. His cheeks are tinged a little red from the bite of the snow, and his lips are slightly chapped.
Still... Jimin thinks, unable to help himself. He's rather attractive.
He promptly pushes the thought from his head as though it burns him, and narrows his eyes at the man infront of him. "Your intimidation tactics won't work on me, old man." If Taehyung was here he'd snort at the way the blondes eyes widen, clearly offended. "And I should tell someone. You're acting foolishly just to score some extra money." He uncrosses his arms, the pout on his lips thick as he glares up at the man before him. "But I guess I'll just let you get caught by yourself. You're clearly going the right way about it."
The man appears frozen, simply gawking at Jimin as though he's just stepped on his pet familiar, and then -
"Yah! You can't just-"
Jimin holds up a hand, taking a step back because he really needs to get to work. Taehyung's shift is almost over and he'll be dying to talk Jimins ear off over the undoubtedly most annoying customers he's been subjected to the past few hours.
"Enjoy the rest of your day." He mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "If you make it that far." It's a little dramatic, he knows, but he can't stand how annoyed this guy makes him. His head is spinning with it, the heat beneath his skin uncomfortable and agitating.
He's turning on his heel when a pale, strong hand reaches out and clasps itself around his wrist. The touch burns even through the fabric of Jimins jacket, and he gasps, whirling back around to tell the guy to promptly fuck off when he's met with a wide, gummy smile, and upturned eyes.
Jimin almost squeaks.
"You're rather cute." The man states, head tilted so he can study Jimin more carefully. His lashes flutter when his grin widens, and Jimin's honestly starting to feel a little dizzy.
He stammers out a protest, utterly baffled because one minute the blonde was trying to intimidate him, the next he's, well, flirting?
He's cut off by the feeling of something soft grazing his cheek, and looks up only to actually choke on his breath this time, eyes growing wide and lips parting unnaturally because-
"You!" He rasps, looking from the sky to the blonde, then around almost wildly, terrified they're going to get caught. "Stop it! You're raining bloody flowers-"
The blonde bites at his lip, corrects him with a teasing lilt. "Flower petals actuall-"
"Well stop!" Jimin cries, trying to shake his wrist from the mans grasp."We'll get into trouble!" Soft, pink petals litter his shoulders and lay trapped in his scarf. He brushes one off of his cheek, feels some of his self control slip along with the embarrassment and something else, something softer (which he won't acknowledge). He's surely the same shade as his hat by now, if the man's amusement is anything to go by.
"Sorry, can't always control it." The blonde quips, not looking apologetic at all. Though if Jimin peers just enough, he can't help but notice the deeper red that tinges his cheeks. He finally lets go of Jimin, the lack of warmth from his touch now achingly obvious. The flower petals stop too, as though a switch has been turned, and Jimin glances over his shoulder, hypervigilant because there's no way someone didn't notice a circle of flowers raining down over his head.
Surprisingly, people continue to mill about the centre, the majority of them having returned to their workplace now that lunchbreak is over. Not one glances in his direction, most far too engrossed in their phones or conversations as they rush past.
Jimin releases a long, suffering breath and returns his attention to the blonde infront of him. The man's studying Jimin carefully, hands by his sides and lips still quirked into that same, teasing smirk. Jimin would question what he's so fascinated by, but he's not sure that he wants to know.
Jimin gawks, because what. He parts his lips to throw another throng of abuse at the guy, but then then he remembers that he really has to be somewhere, his shift having began atleast seven minutes ago.
He curses, brushing a couple petals off of his jacket, and levels the blonde with a short glare. "You're insane." He cuts, shaking his head. "I've got to go." He takes another step back, ignoring the way the man's smile drops just a little. He shoots him a look over his shoulder, trying to keep his voice straight.
"You can't fool people forever." He mutters. "Be careful." Because even if the man is insufferable, Jimin has a kind heart and he doesn't want to watch one of his own get locked up.
That's really it. Right?
The man appears slightly shocked for a moment, eyes widening a fraction, and then he's stuffing his hands into his pockets, shoulders relaxing as he shoots Jimin that same, playful smirk.
"See you tomorrow, then."
Jimin almost shouts because no, that's not what I'm saying-
But shakes his head. He clenches his fists together and shoots the blonde one last withering look before he's stomping off, ignoring the mans laugh when he slips a little in his haste to get away before he says something too self incriminating.
"-It was ridiculous, he didn't even have someone on lookout, Tae, he could have-"
"Could have endangered the entire magical community, yes, you've already said." A low, deep voice drones from somewhere behind the front desk. When Jimin huffs and thows a glance over his shoulder, restocking the herbology shelves momentarily forgotten, he can just about make out the pastel lilac of his friends hair bobbing up and down from behind the acient looking cash register Jimin had managed to scavenge a couple years back when they first opened.
He narrows his eyes in Taehyungs direction despite knowing his friend can't see him, and shakes his head."You don't get it Tae, he was so cocky, so nonchelant about everything. He had no regard at all!"
"Does it even really matter? If he gets caught it's his own fault in the end, it's not like you'll ever see him again." The man's voice comes again, followed by various sounds of rustling. Jimin would ask what he's doing, but it's Taehyung, so he won't risk it. Also, he's far too preoccupied with something-someone else. (Unfortunately)
Something pangs, uncomfortable and heavy somewhere behind his ribcage, and he puts down the box of Buskobar pus vials he's carrying with little finesse, only wincing a little when the glass clinks unsteadily.
"Break one of those and you're paying for it."Taehyung hums from behind the desk still. Jimin sighs.
"It's just-I don't want him to get caught. He's one of us afterall, you know? But he wouldn't listen, he just kept smirking like a cocky little bast-"
Jimin doesn't like the sudden change in tone to Taehyung's voice, nor the look that his friend shoots him when he quickly pushes himself up from behind the front desk. He's grinning rather manically and there's what looks like a smudge of dirt on his chin (something Jimin decides not to question him on). He plants his palms on the wood of the desk and leans forward, eyebrows cocked.
"Was he attractive then?"
Jimin feels the moment his skin erupts with heat, not for the first time today, and promptly flounders as he tries to come up with something to say, his words leaving him in short, breathless attempts.
"Wha-You,what are you saying?"
The grin only widens. "You're blushing! You like-"
"No!" Jimin cries, the heat creeping down his neck."I don't even know him!" This is ridiculous. Like him? Of course not!
"What could I possibly like about him? He was arrogant and foolish and created these stupid flowers-"
"You love flowers, Jiminie."
"Not when they're raining down on me in front of everyone!"
Taehyung's eyes widen at that, and then he's buckling forward a little, shoulders shaking as he laughs. Jimin simply stands there, pout stretching his lips and cheeks a bright, surely unhealthy red because fuck Taehyung, fuck him and his stupid laugh-
"Oh my god." The man rasps, wiping at his eyes."No, he did not."
Jimin crosses his arms, redirecting his glare to the floor.
"This is amazing. He charmed you."
"No he didn't-"
"This guy is evidently a powerful illusionist, y'know, the resident hard guy shooting flames from his palms, and he conjured a shower of flowers above your head like a schoolboy trying to impress his-"
"Oh my god, stop right there." Jimin grits, palms sweating as he rakes a hand through his hair. "He didn't do it on purpose! He said he can't always control it-"
"Oh, that's even better." Taehyung snickers, pushing off of the counter."This is the best, I can't wait to tell Seokjin hyung."
"Don't you dare." Jimin shoots, eyes narrowing. There's only one thing worse than Taehyung knowing, and that's Seokjin. He groans internally, looking up at the lanterns above his head as though for comfort. They'll never let me live it down.
"Oh come on, Jiminie." Taehyung huffs, all good natured and amused."It's about time. You're really telling me that you're not flattered?"
Jimin frowns, leaning against the shelf next to him for support."Over what? A guy giving me sass for ten minutes straight?"
His friend seems to have enough energy to appear affronted, rolling his eyes as though Jimin's missing something extremely important. "Power is tied to emotion, Jimin-ah."
"He made tiny little flowers rain down on you in broad daylight without meaning to,and you're telling me that he wasn't flirting."
Something buzzes beneath Jimins skin, his heart kicking a little out of place as Taehyung's words ring in his ears. He suddenly itches to hide his face in his turtleneck, sure the flush has spread across the entirety of any of his skin on display. He winces.
"I don't...Tae.." He whines, sagging a little. His friend only snorts, lilac falling into his eyes.
"Cute." He smirks."So what now?"
"What do you mean, what now?" Jimin quips, uncrossing his arms. You tell Seokjin so that the two of you can torture me together? I avoid the centre for the rest of my life?
"Like you said, I'm never going to see him again."He directs his gaze to the counter instead of his friends face, hating how the words evoke a heavy feeling in his gut. He momentarily questions himself. You're not like this, Jimin-ah. Why does he make you feel this way?You don't even know him!
"Let's just drop it, Tae." He cuts his friend off, suddenly feeling more than uncomfortable.
"It's nothing." He sighs, shooting him a small smile."He was just a random guy in the end, totally insufferable in fact." He stoops to pick up the box of potions at his feet, not wincing this time when they clink against one another.
As he starts to restock the shelves he's met with silence, though still feels the burn of his friends gaze on the side of his face. If his heart thumps uncomfortably once more when Taehyung later pulls a small, pink flower petal from his fringe, a glint in his eyes, then noone has to know.
"Tae, I cant."
"Stop lying, you co-own this place.You can do what you want."
"And? Someone needs to stay behind and enter the codes-"
"We have an automatic system for that." Taehyung quips, crossing his arms."Come on Jimin, I promised Seokjin hyung that we'd go watch his new boyfriend perform tonight."
Jimin cringes, guilt squashing at his attempts."I know but Tae...It's underground."
The other man sighs, shooting Jimin a knowing glance."Jimin, they cast charms to obscure what goes on underground, you know that.It's completely safe."
Jimin flushes. Don't get him wrong, he's not all about rules and regulations, but still. In fact, he used to have a pretty huge reputation on the underground scene. After his accident though...
He bites down on his lower lip, ignores the cold sweat accumulating on his palms.
"Jimin-ah...you can't hide forever." Taehyung's voice is soft, the way that it only ever is with him. When he glances up Taehyung's levelling him with something gentle, the concern behind his eyes evident.
"I know." He whispers, voice tight. "But..."
"It's been two years Jimin-ah. There won't even be any dance performances. It's rap, tonight."
A faint tinge of relief shoots through Jimin at that. Shit. "Just rap?"
His friend nods, adament."I promise.I asked Seokjin about sixty times myself."
Jimin huffs, shoulders sagging. It seems like so long ago now that he was all to eager to make the journey down to the underground, the secret that not even the Wizarding Bureau knew about. A space where stragglers and those seeking life and thrill alike could meet and show their craft. Performance entwined with magic, the ultimate show.
It felt like centuries ago that he stood on that makeshift podium, cheeks flushed with exertion and limbs fluid as liquid fire danced around his body, wove through his stream and lit up the place just as loudly as the crowds screams.
"You've missed it, Jimin." Taehyung murmurs then, eyes still rooted on him."I can tell."
Jimin rolls his eyes."Tae-"
"No, I mean it." The man frowns, stopping Jimin from stepping past."Look, this shop is your life, I know. After the accident you turned to healing like a life line, and you're good Jimin, great even. The best healer I know. But dance? Dance and magic and the underground, that's you. You're a performer, and one accident is never going to be enough to quell the passion that flows through your veins. Don't let your fear stop you from enjoying what you love."
He's breathing a little heavily by the time he finishes, chest rising and falling without much rythm. His gaze is unwavering, deep rooted into Jimins and laced with a sense of pleading that Jimin's unused to seeing in such seriousness.
The sound of bone cracking and muted screams perferates his ears, the feeling of pure pain spreading along his ankle, travelling up his lower leg, his spine. For a second he's blindsighted by it, trapped in a moment, a period of time that defined him more than he ever wished it to.
But then Taehyung's threading their fingers together, his expression so, so soft as he looks at Jimin imploringly.
"Let's go have some fun, ok? Seokjin's waiting for us."
It's been two years.
Two years of abandoning the biggest part of him out of fear. And here Taehyung is, trying to drag him back headfirst into it.
Is it really worth it?
Seokjin's disappointed face swirls in his mind, and something in him clicks.
It's about time you learnt to be brave.
He squeezes Taehyung's hand tighter, presses his lips together.
"If we're late he's going to hex us, so I hope you've got a faster way to get there other than cab."
Taehyung smirks at that, shoulders relaxing with relief. He squeezes Jimins hand, something warm flickering behind those amber eyes.
"It's a good thing that we're wizards then, right?"
The underground is a hive of life, really.
It's nestled below an old car park right in the underbelly of the city, a whole world beneath Seoul made just for thrill seekers and those trying to escape reality if just for a while. It's hardly anything regal, mainly stone,brick and graffiti paint, thick pillars and extremely good magic the only thing keeping the whole place afloat. It's reeks of sweat and charms, only lit by enchanted paper lanters dangling mid air, casting thick shadows across the space that seem to move all on their own.
He and Taehyung arrive in a flurry of limbs, appearing amongst an already steadily building crowd. He shoots Taehyung a look as he ruffles at his own hair, ignoring the slightly dizzy feeling that envelopes him.
"You're getting better at apparition." He nods, almost laughing at the way Taehyung immediately brightens.
"Of course, I've been practicing." The man remarks, slinging an arm around Jimins neck. Jimin rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
Of course he has. That's the thing about Taehyung, he'd been increadibly adept at the use of wandless magic during his school days, had been something of a prodigy in fact.
But he was also a troublemaker, and much preferred using such talents for petty thievery and practical jokes. Jimin had managed to wrangle him out of the more criminal side of things when they'd become friends, though every now and then Taehyung still pilfered something of little value from a street dwellers pocket just because he felt like it. On those days, Jimin would deliver a swift slap upside the head, ignoring Taehyung's offended squawk as he ordered the man to take what he stole back.
Practical jokes though? Those never wavered. If Taehyung wasn't putting hexes on people he was charming their trousers to turn invisable on a busy street or their food to quite literally get up and walk off of their plate. It kept the other man amused, and most of the spells were good natured so he kept his mouth shut. Not to mention that it was also hilarious.
"Just you wait, Jiminie, I'll get so good that you won't even feel it next time."
Jimin manages an airy laugh, shaking his head."We'll see."
He murmurs a faint apology when a couple over excited girls shoulder past him, sqealing to themselves as they bleed into the crowd ahead, voices joining the rest. The smell of smoke curls around Jimins nostrils, something electric charging the air around them and settling to a faint buzz beneath their bones. The feeling is all too familiar, and suddenly Jimin's transported back to two years ago.
He sucks in a breath, eyes scanning the crowd up ahead of them. There's a large podium at the front, pits shooting bursts of fire standing at each corner. They seem to spill from the pits in time with the music pounding from the speakers, heavy beats of bass permeating the entirety of the underground for the night. Somewhere in the distance above them, Jimin hears the faint whirr of police sirens, more criminals of seoul nightlife on the run from their responsibilities.
Below though, they're safe.
He glances at the mottled brick wall next to them, eyes the red lion spray painted in all of it's glory along the side.It's emblazoned by flames that seem to move, and when it's mouth opens into a roar, Jimin feels something in him snap . Enchanted graffiti. It's a protection charm, keeps them obscured from both muggles and the wizarding world.
Wouldn't want them breaking up our fun, right?
For a moment he's motionless, simply letting the heated air of the underground get to him, the vibrations from the speakers rattle his bones and settle into his blood stream. Something in him tenses, seizing up because suddenly he's not so sure that-
He drags his gaze from the lion, blood roaring in his ears as he finds Taehyung's face, the other man staring down at him in a mixture of confusion and concern. He studies Jimin carefully, squeezes his arm gently. He has to step closer to speak, the sound of the crowd far too loud for either of them to have a normal conversation.
"Are you sure you're alright? I know we told Seokjin we'd come but-"
"It's alright, Tae." He cuts his friend off before his mind can catch up to his mouth, though despite that he finds that even if it isn't quite alright, that even if his muscles are seizing up and snippets of that night continue to come back to him in pained flashes, he can't keep running.
Just being here is enough to remind him of the past, but he can't deny that it's also made him realise just how much he missed it. There's nothing quite like it, the electricity charged air and the budding excitement lacing the crowd. It beats in time with the city of Seoul, a life form in it's own.
If Jimin wants to get over his past, then he's in the right place.
So even if it's not exactly alright, it will be.
"It's been two years." He mutters, meeting his friends eyes."I can't keep running."
Taehyung's expession remains the same for a moment, the other clearly mulling over his words. A couple more seconds pass, and then the furrow of his brows is gone, lips lifting up into that boxy smile that does more to soothe Jimins worries than his own attempts.
"You know, Jimin.." He starts, voice soft. "I missed it too."
Jimin releases a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Beside him, the lion roars once more, teeth stretching the expanse of the brick. Something heated creeps up his neck, an emotion he can't quite place welling up in his chest.
Taehyung had stopped visiting the underground along with him after his accident, insistent on the two of them remaining together.It'd broken Jimin a little even then, knowing his friend was missing out because of him. His fears.
He parts his lips to stutter out a reply, though finds himself cut off by a loud, obnoxious shout before he can get there.
A body forces it's way between them, heaving arms slinging around their shoulders. Jimin sags under the weight, almost choking on his breath as he cranes his neck in an attempt to glare at the owner of said voice. It's hardly a mystery as to who it is when the man tugs them in tighter, practically smothering them both against his chest.
"Yah, Seokjin hyung-" Taehyung starts, only to be cut off.
"I can't believe it, my two boy's back here after so long." The man drawls. He ignores the few side eyes that he gets from others as he turns on his heel and drags Jimin and Taehyung along with him, right for the centre of the building crowd.
"You were almost late by the way, I can't believe you'd do me dirty like-"
"Seokjin hyung, let go of me." Jimin whines, attempting to squeeze out from the elders grip. He's used to the eldests mothering, but it's not something he wants to experience whilst wedged amongst a crowd of over excited people.
The elder sighs, though lets go of them a little. He makes sure to grab both of their wrists though, smile still in place as both men shoot him a pained look.
"You're really overstepping this mothering thing-Ow!" Taehyung yelps when he's momentarily released to be slapped upside the head, and shoots Seokjin a petulant look as his wrist is grasped once more.
"Quiet down both of you, I've got to get you to the front, haven't I?"
Jimin opens his mouth to protest, because no, you don't have to do that but suddenly he's being dragged into the throng of the chattering crowd, enveloped by body heat and laughter and shouts. Seokjin's uncaring of where he steps of course, practically propelling him and Taehyung through the centre, screaming at the top of his lungs for people to get out of the way because it's his boyfriend performing after all.
He ignores the glares he recieves in turn from crowd goers, and Jimin can only exchange a horrified look past him to Taehyung as they blunder through the mass of bodies until they reach the front.
They're so close to the podium now that Jimin can truly feel the heat of the fire when it shoots from the pits at each side. It curls around the air, warmth radiating off of it. Jimin's already sweating in his jacket, so he yanks it off when Seokjin offers to stick it in his backpack. He eyes the man as he removes the small bag from his shoulders and unzips it, jamming his hand inside of the thing deep until it reaches his elbow. Not for the first time, Jimin finds himself appreciating Seokjin's ability at charms, along with his mothering instincts.
Quite frankly Jimin's not sure just how deep Seokjin's backpack goes, but as he shakes it to clear some space and Jimin hears the distant clang of what sounds like cutlery, he doesn't bother to question it.
Instead he hands his jacket over and redirects his gaze to the empty stage, half amused, half impressed. He feels better now that he's just in his tank top, the heat and the trail of his past hardly as suffocating as it was five minutes ago. The tightness in his chest is still there, the heavy weight of it settling there like a lump, but as he stares up at the stage he realises that it's more so nostalgic,more so...sad.
"So when is your boyfriend on?" He asks Seokjin in an attempt to distract himself from said thoughts. It's too early to think about such things. One step at a time.
Seokjin's face lights up at this, eyes darting to the stage."Soon, Joonie is the main star tonight!"
Taehyung, on Seokjin's other side, frowns. "It says on that poster that two others are performing with him though-"
"He's the main star." Seokjin cuts him off, waving his hand haphazrdly. "I mean don't get me wrong, the others are amazing, but nothing compares to Namjoon. He's born for it-"
"Talk about biased." Taehyung quips, only to gain a swift elbow to the rips. Jimin snickers, shakes his head.
"You must really like this guy, hm?" He questions, cocking his head to study the elder. He hasn't heard much about Namjoon, mainly because Seokjin's uncharacteristically shy when it comes to him, but from what he knows he seem's pretty decent. He works in the minstry as an Auror in fact, and from what he's heard he's pretty good at it, one of the best.
Jimin can't help but find it rather funny that said prostigial Auror moonlights as an illegal underground rapper when he's not working.
He watches the skin of Seokjin's cheeks pinken drastically, his own smile widening. "You're cute, hyung."
Seokjin swats at him then."Yah, Jimin-ah! Stop teasing your hyung." He cries, clearly mortified. Jimin only laughs, slinging his head back and letting the bass of the music run over him. He can't help how light he suddenly feels, something giddy welling up in his chest.
Seokjin watches him for a moment, something flickering behind those lids. His expression softens a little, and he hikes a hand up to ruffle Jimins hair.
"It feels like two years haven't passed." He murmurs. He looks a little distant suddenly, far away.
Jimin quiets, voice wavering a little when he speaks."Hyung.."
The elder seems to snap out of his thoughts, the smile returning back to his face. "I'm just glad to see you here, Jimin." The where you belong remains unsaid, but Jimin still hears it nonetheless. He sighs, heart skipping a couple beats before returning to it's normal pace.
"I'm glad to be here." He murmurs. The elder catches it, smile widening.
He looks as though he's about to say something else, lips parting, but suddenly the lanterns above their heads are extinguishing, the only light from the fire pits, and the music cranks up, the crowd starting to roar in preparation for what's about to happen.
Jimin absently hears Taehyung's screams ramping up in volume as three men appear on stage in a flurry of flames. The crowd goes wild, screeching different names as they all push at one another, hands in the air and lungs surely burning. Jimin can feel the purity of the energy engulfing the room, and he finds himself wrapped up in it as he redirects his gaze back to the three men.
They're dressed in rather simple street clothes, black hoodies and ripped jeans. The tallest of them owns a shock of ice blonde hair, styled back into something akin to a messy mohawk/quiff hybrid. When he turns to the audience and smirks, Seokjin practically beats down the small metal barrier trying to profess his love. Jimin shoots a wide eyed look over Seokjin's shoulder at an equally surprised Taehyung.
This must be Namjoon.
Dimples appear on either side of Namjoon's smile when he spots Seokjin, the man already gravitating towards their side of the stage until he comes to a stop just feet from them. When he shoots Seokjin a wink the elder almost screeches, and Jimin can't help it, has to make a note to tease his hyung later.
He redirects his gaze to the other two men still standing by one another, one shorter than the other. The taller of the two boasts shocking red hair that falls lightly into his eyes when he turns to beam at the audience. He radiates a different atmosphere as compared to the others, something less serious, as though he's having the time of his life by simply standing on stage. When he rakes a hand through his hair and cocks his head at the audience, several members scream a series of "Hoseok!", voices shrill. Jimin can't help but smile at the guy's reaction, laughter bubbling up his chest at the overdramatic hand motions he makes when he places a hand to his chest and flashes that heart shaped smile once more.
He shoots off to the left of the stage, crouching down to study the audience closer. He's a ball of energy it seems, dangling over the barrier to high five several excitable members. Jimin finds himself taking a liking to the guy immediately.
It's not until Namjoon's voice is ringing out across the underground that Jimin takes note of the final man, who's back is still partially turned. As Seokjin's lover shouts a greeting out across the space, excitement marring his voice, Jimin cocks his head, attempts to get a better look at the guy still unnanounced.
He's wearing a baseball cap but from what Jimin can see he's blonde, shoulders wide and the slope of his neck almost considered elegant. Jimin almost frowns to himself, tilting his head more to catch sight of a small, button nose and pale skin.
He...he seems familiar.
The black hoodie he wears almost swamps him, though still manages to look good. If Jimin peers close enough he can make out the red print of snake slithering along the arm of it. Around him the crowd convulses as Namjoon introduces himself, followed by a still, beaming Hoseok. Jimin lets himself move along with it, laughing under his breath when Seokjin haughtily elbows a woman behind him that's screaming Namjoon's name a little too excitedly.
The crowd starts to chant slurrs of 'Suga', hands still in the air and voices lifting the entirety of the underground, and Jimin's about to part his lips, to try and question Seokjin because what the hell is a Suga, when-
The final man turns, an orange glow from the flames cast across his features as he trains deadly, intense eyes on the audience. Pink lips quirk up into a smile, the kind of smile that keeps secrets, and Jimin promptly feels his stomach swoop and heart stop because-
Because it's the guy, the street illusionist from this morning.
Liquid fire dances along pale skin as the man regards the audience, none of this morning's sheepishness lighting his features. He looks almost as though he's at home, a desperation and temptation dancing behind dark irises almost covered by the brim of his cap.
Jimin merely gawks. I must be going insane. It can't be him, surely.
The man's gaze travels across the floor, almost judging of his audience, and Jimin feels himself freeze up entirely as those eyes land on him.
For a moment, things seem to stop. Suga's eyes widen considerably, the man momentarily freezing in place. The crowd continues to wave around him, yet Jimin's only got eyes for the man standing before him, expression a mixture of shock and something else, something he can't place yet that leaves a warm, erratic weight in his chest.
He's sure he looks like a fool right now, jaw slack and eyes wide. He knows he's coated in a faint sheen of sweat from the pure heat radiating from the flames before him and the audience around him, and honestly, he's barely keeping it together because he can't quite believe that the same man that he'd told off this morning is now standing before him like he owns the damn kingdom of the underground.
Something flickers behind the man's gaze then, hot and heavy, and then he cocks his head to the side, lashes fluttering and hand coming up to readjust his cap. Jimin sucks in a breath, refuses to acknowledge the tiny voice in the back of his mind screaming about how attractive the man is. He stamps down the heat creeping up his cheeks, swallows a little too hard and manages to just about school his expression into something of nonchelance.
Come on, Jimin.
Suga's still watching him when he cocks a brow, hoping to look atleast somewhat annoyed. For a moment he thinks it works, judging by the flicker of shock that crosses the mans features, but then-
His gaze on Jimin only seems to intensify, something dangerous rippling behind his irises, and then his lips slowly quirk into a deep smirk.
Jimin falters, and promptly feels his cheeks erupt into flames. He holds the mans gaze for as long as he can, sure that he's burning red, and then huffs, cursing beneath his breath as he looks away,suddenly busy with the way that Seokjin's making practically obscene romantic gestures in Namjoon's general direction.
His ears ring a little at the feeling of eyes still on him, and he shakes his head to himself, bringing sweaty palms up to grip the cool metal of the barrier infront of him. Behind him, a man shrieks Suga's name so loudly that it almost shatters his eardrums, and he feels just a little of his sanity slip.
This is unbelievable.
The one night he let's Taehyung drag him to the underground, and he's faced with him.
He makes a mental note not to reveal his newfound knowledge, lest he find himself practically shoved into the man after the show finishes. The last thing he needs is Taehyung, and even worse, Seokjin's interfering.
No, for now he'll keep it to himself. (Largely because even he can hardly believe it.)
"Now we could stand around a while and chatter, but I know you guy's came here for the show, right?" Namjoon suddenly barks into the mic he's holding. He grins, eyes lighting up as the audience shout in approval.
Hoseok laughs from his spot, the sound loud, catching. "Well then, let's burn this place down, shall we?"
The flames flicker, almost cutting out for a moment, and Jimin can only brace himself as Namjoon parts his lips to start. He laughs to himself, cuts bursts of lyrics into the mic and looks up from under his lashes to catch Seokjin's eye. When he trains his gaze on the audience it boasts confidence, power that Jimin's only ever seen beneath the streets of Seoul at unhealthy hours of the night.
The beat picks up, the blonde spitting into the mic with a ferocity Jimin's unused to when it comes to the rappers of the underground. He's been missing out on performances for the past two years, but something about the way pure passion rolls off of the men before him, tells him that these guy's are no rookies.
Next to him Seokjin almost faints when Namjoon squats, sweat dripping off of his hair and into his eyes. He trains his gaze right on Seokjin, lips quirking into the most knowing of smiles as he raps about finding hope in the most obscure of places. Jimin can hear Taehyung shrieking , catches sight of lilac hair bouncing in time to the music, and feels his own heart steady itself to the rhythm, feels his guard slip lust a little more as the complete euphoria of the crowd around him catches on.
When Namjoon slows to a stop, it's Hoseok who takes over, cheerful demenor suddenly gone and replaced by something much more teasing. He slips into his persona with startling ease, body moving in time with the beat with a fluidity that Jimin knows only belongs to a dancer. He feels his own voice join the others as he screams, unable to keep himself from moving in time with Hoseok as he raps over dreams and nightmares, voice catching when he rakes a sweaty hand through his hair to keep it from his face. There's a softness to his rap, something that combats the edge of his voice and leaves a joyous atmosphere swimming about the room.
"This is amazing!" Taehyung reaches over Seokjin to squeeze at Jimins shoulder. He looks giddy with excitement, hair plastered to his face with sweat and lips stretched into his signature box grin.
Jimin slings his head back and laughs, wipes at the sweat rolling down his temple. Seokjin's still making eyes at Namjoon between them, so he doesn't bother to shout his reply. Taehyung can see it in his smile though, reads him like a book.
I'm glad I came.
The other man's grin widens if even possible, lips parting to speak when a new, rough voice cuts across the underground, causing both men to shift their gazes towards it.
Jimin feels his stomach swoop as Suga enters the picture, a hand on Hoseok's shoulder as he passes. He's lithe in his movements, connecting with the music immediately as though it was waiting for him. His voice is what roots Jimin to the spot, gruff and full of affirmation. It rings throughout the underground, echoes as far as the obscuring charms allow and pounds right back down on them.
The intensity of the mans rap is unbelievable, the blonde breathing words of beating the system, of following the path he carved for himself, obliterating the views of those that doubted him, beat him down in order to try and get him to conform. What strikes Jimin the most about his rap is the sincerity in it, the pure belief echoed out of every lyric, every breath and huff and curse. Suga raps as though it's all he believes in, and Jimin finds himself starting to believe just as much.
His blood roars in his ears, the lump in his chest unwinding as he allows Suga's words to embed themselves into his bones, root their way into the deepest crevices of his brain. Something in him sings, and the emotion that whirs inside of him is almost laughable.
Is almost magical.
Just then, Suga dips down beside Namjoon, shoulders heaving with every ragged breath he takes. Dreams spill from his lips, and Jimin sucks in a sharp, unfiltered breath as the man looks right back at him, cocking his head to study Jimin with that familiar intensity that makes his bones rattle.
Beside him Seokjin's shouting, Taehyung pointing over his shoulder at a startled Jimin, all wide eyes and manic smile, yet Jimin can't bring himself to look away, not with the way that Suga's watching him, eyebrow quirked up and sweat rolling down pale, unblemished skin. Jimin flushes, unable to stop the embarrassment from swirling in his gut as he looks up from under his lashes at the man before him.
Yoongi laughs then, the sound breathless against the mic as he regards Jimin as though he knows just what he's doing to him. His lyrics slip into a lower tone, words almost indistinguishable, and Jimin feels a little too lightheaded, his heart practically trying to fight its way out of his ribcage. Somewhere in the back of his mind he curses himself for letting the shameless street illusionist from this morning get to him, but then Suga winks, cheeks a light dust of pink, and Jimin feels a huge chunk of his resolution slip.
When a small, knowing smile tugs at Suga's lips, Jimin knows he's screwed.
It's during the rap battles that things start to go downhill.
Battles are an important part of the underground, the entire being of it built upon them, whether it's dance or rap or craft, they're what makes the underground. The entire foundation of the underground is built on the knowledge of self expression, of getting better at your craft and showing what you can do. It's about sharing culture and coming together under a city of people trained to despise the thought of them and a world built on telling them to hide who they are.
So when the men on stage summon up three others for the battle of the night, the battle of the week, Jimin feels his stomach swirl because he knows it's about to get hectic.
The crowd, unlike earlier, seems to quiet down at first, a apprehensive silence falling about the underground as three men make their way up, expressions dark and serious as they clap the others on the shoulder.
"It's unusual to see such quiet rap battles.." Taehyung murmurs, leaning closer to both him and Seokjin. His brows are furrowed and he's still soaked with sweat, though Jimin's sure he's hardly different.
"Their battles get pretty intense." Seokjin starts, eyes still hooked on a certain blonde. "They don't go easy on their competition.A couple weeks ago Hoseok hexed a guy's toenails to grow too long."
Jimin snorts a laugh, almost withering under the sharp look Seokjin casts him."This is serious Jimin."
Jimin rolls his eyes."Yeah but that's kind of hilarious."
"It was until the same guy performed the tongue inflation hex on him and his tongue swelled twice the size."
This time it's Taehyung who laughs, the man leaning against the metal barrier for support. Seokjin looks between them, unimpressed.
"Yah! We had to take him to an out of hours healer you little toad-"
"Hey, who is that?" Jimin cuts Seokjin off before the elder can get himself worked up, pointing in the direction of one of the men now on stage. He's tall, a dark shock of black hair falling into sharp, green eyes. He studies the crowd with a smug air completely different to Hoseok who's standing next to him, looks almost as though he holds a certain contempt for it. Jimin catches sight of a tattoo on his neck, moving erratically along the muscles beneath his skin. Upon close inspection he realises it's a dragon of some sorts, curling thick and black along the guy's skin, sharp, yellow eyes trained on the crowd.
Next to him, Seokjin quiets a little. "That's Donghyun. He's part of the Im family, one of the eldest pureblood families in history." He's frowning as he speaks, brows furrowed as he studies Donghyun. "He's rather well known in the underground scene, though not for the right reasons."
"He's a cheat." Seokjin cuts."A dangerous one at that." He sighs then, gaze flickering worriedly to Namjoon."I didn't know that they were battling today. Joon didn't tell me."
"I'm sure it'll be alright, there are rules for these things, right?" Taehyung asks, though doesn't sound too sure of it.
Seokjin hums."Rules would be fine if he followed them."
Jimin winces. He watches the way that Donghyun cracks his knuckles,feels something akin to discomfort settle in his gut. His two friends, lackeys?, are busy talking with Namjoon, hands moving in wild gestures and expressions a little too serious. Namjoon's nodding along, though hardly looks amused.
Jimin looks away when he feels a pair of eyes burning into the side of his face. He scans the stage, confused, until he finds a certain blonde leaning back against the brick, hands tucked into his pockets as he gazes right at Jimin.
He's uncaring in his stare, obvious in it even. He appears relatively serious, gaze solid as it takes in every inch of Jimin,resolute. Heat licks its way at Jimins skin, and he does a poor attempt at stamping it down, instead shooting a poor glower in Suga's direction.
When the man realises that he's been caught, he smiles. He seems immune to Jimins glare, chest heaving with a huff of a laugh as he pushes away from the brick. For a moment Jimin's worried he's going to come over , talk to him right infront of Seokjin and Taehyung. (Who are far too busy bickering right now) But then he simply removes a hand from his pocket before motioning to it.
Jimin frowns. What? What does he want now?
The man rolls his eyes, before pointing to Jimin and then motioning to his pocket once again. Jimin flounders for a moment, annoyed, until he realises that Suga wants him to check his pocket.
With a frown he dips his hand into his jeans pocket, rifling around. When his fingers close around something soft and smooth, he almost jumps. He sucks in a breath, slowly pulling the thing out, and promptly feels his stomach drop.
Heat erupts along his skin, and his fingers tingle as he looks up, trains wide eyes on Suga. The man only grins, all teeth and gum this time, before he's turning and skirting off towards the group of men gathered by the side of the stage.
Jimin feels a little more of his grip on reality slip.
I can't believe this.
He decides to tuck the petal back into his pocket for later, coherent enough to not want it destroyed.
Why waste flowers?
By the time that the battle kicks off, the crowds a nervous, jittery mess. Jimin's right there with them if he's honest, though he's far too busy trying to ease Seokjin's nerves, (as well as his bruising grip on Jimins arm) to panic too much over what's about to happen.
It's Hoseok that kicks the battle off, taking on one of the shorter men accompanying Donghyun. He makes surprisingly quick work of the guy, the lines of his rap so fast that Jimin finds it difficult to keep up. There's a certain rhythm that Hoseok's good at keeping though, and before the guy even gets the chance to lay anything on him other than canary yellow hair (Hoseok still looks good with it, though it's going to take a while to come out), the rapper is bestowing upon him the foul mouthed hex.
Jimin laughs along with the crowd when the poor guy opens his mouth to rap only to release a foul, stinking odour. Laughter soon turns to disgust and Jimin covers his nose, grimacing as the smell permeates the crowd.
The guy seems to give up after that, face beet red as he skirts behind an unimpressed Donghyun.Hoseok merely grins, shooting to the side of the stage in clap Yoongi and Namjoon on the back, expression fierce.
"This is amazing. Truly amazing." Taehyung shouts over the crowd, and Jimin can't help but agree.
Next up it's Namjoon, and Jimin has to fight back a yelp at how hard Seokjin's nails dig into his arm. He almost whines at the elder to ease up, but then Namjoon trips over his own shoelaces whilst taking his spot and decides against it.
Surprisingly it isn't Donghyun who takes the stage, no, he's shoving his other friend up with little finesse before Namjoon's even lifted the mic to his mouth to call for round two.
Something uncomfortable settles in Jimins gut as he realises that Suga will face Donghyun, though he quickly tries to push it away. He hardly even knows the guy and he's worrying over him? Get your priorities right Jimin-ah.
Namjoon seems to have fun with his opponant. He dances around the guy, lulls him into a false sense of security before delivering his first charm. He spits words like fire and Jimin sucks a breath when he calls for a swirl of it to engulf the other guy, erupting from his feet upwards.
It's an illusion of course, incapable of hurting, yet Jimin finds even his own palms sweating as flames erupt all over the man. Woah.
That's the thing about rap battles, hexes are ok (aside from the ones that cause actual serious harm), but you can't just go running your mouth of with them the second you start. No, there has to be a rythm, a build up and a flow that makes sense before you deliver. Just spouting nonsense to get rid of an opponant get's you disqualified.
As Jimin watches the guy attempt to put the Anteoculatia hex on Namjoon, the horn growing hex, he realises that he's got no hope.
The hex falls flat and Namjoon takes over the next second, impossibly fast as he rounds on the guy and casts Densaugeo amidst his lyrics. The crowd bellows, laughter bubbling across the underground as they watch the guy's teeth elongate disgustingly, far enough that it's impossible for him to get his words out.
The screams of the crowd are deafening, and Jimin can feel the adrenaline in the air, feels it zipping beneath his skin, skittering along with the uneven pace of his heart as he leans further against the barrier, screaming Namjoon's name along with a half relieved, half in love Seokjin and a wide eyed Taehyung.
The man slumps in defeat, shuffling his way back over towards his friends. He pokes at his obscenely large teeth and huffs to himself, looking far more than unimpressed. Donghyun, the obvious leader of the group seems to practically growl at this, a line between his brows and green eyes deadly as he takes the stage, footsteps sure and gait rigid. A certain air seems to fall about the place, the atmosphere stiffening, sharpening.
Jimin feels something coil low in his gut as he watches Suga join him, his own movements slow, relaxed as though he's not about to face a guy that looks ready to rip him apart. Whispers fill the underground, hushed voices hissing to one another,desperate and apprehensive.
There are a few beats of silence as the men seem to eye one another up, eyes molten fire and hands curled into fists at their sides.
"Donghyun will go first this time." Seokjin curses, voice hoarse from screaming so much.
Jimin frowns. That gives him the chance to get a one up on Suga .
His heart skitters uncomfortably as the man launches into his rap, spits out words visciously, uncaringly for those around him. He raps without rythm, more so with anger, with pent up frustration and disgust at those infront of him, around him. Jimin finds himself frozen, the ball in his chest thickening because this is no normal rap.
He could hardly even call it rap, the spat of lyrics missing the same heart, the same sincerity that Suga had performed with. It leaves Jimin feeling numb, almost scared of the man on stage.
Suga however, seems fairly numb to it all. He simply continues to regard Donghyun with an air of nonchelance. He clutches his mic in hand, expression calm as he waits for his turn.
When Donghyun utters lyrics over the electricity of being on top, lightening crackles beside Suga's feet. The crowd gasps, some screaming, and Jimin feels his throat tighten.
Suga flinches only slightly, before casting that unimpressed stare right back on Donghyun. He glances out over the crowd then, gaze instantly finding Jimins. Upon doing so, he quirks a brow and Jimin feels the last of his self resolution dissipate.
He nods at the man to get on with it, desperation starting to flare in his chest because he has to do something, and quick damnit.
Somewhere he senses Seokjin's eyes on the side of his face, gaze surely suspicious, though ignores if for now, far too lost to entertain the elder.
Up on stage, Suga seems to understand, seems to have been waiting for something from him, for suddenly his lips are lifting up and he's whirling round on Donghyun, bringing the mic onto his lips.
What ensues, is pure chaos.
If Jimin thought that Hoseok and Namjoon were good at freestyle, then he's never seen anything quite like this Suga guy. He raps like he breathes, countless lyrics falling from his lips, stories spread across the floor for everyone to see laid bare. He raps over a storm, raps over the threat of thunder tearing at his insecurities and stretching across the expanse of a tired, tired mind.
Jimin watches in disbelief as he conjures up a storm all in itself, something thick and murky wrapping itself around a wide eyed Donghyun. Thunder, nearly as loud as Jimin's heart beat, cracks across the underground, causing several crowd members to scream out, and the smell of damp in the air is palpable.
"Well fuck." Seokjin stutters, looking up.
Donghyun's barely visable behind the grey, just a flash of limb as he tries to fight his way out of the storm brewed around him. Suga only watches, sweat rolling down his jawline, his neck as he readjusts the cap on his head, gaze unwaveringly sharp.
Jimin thinks that they have it then, that there's no way Donghyun's fighting back , but then the grey dissipates, showing nothing but austere marring the features of the man. He freezes rigid in place, feels his panic spike at the sight of the pure rage directed right at Suga.
He opens his mouth then, and the underground erupts.
"We need a healer, now."
"Come on Jimin, you're our best shot. You're trained specifically in hexes." The man looks physically pained, his gaze on Jimin unwavering as he gestures down the busy hallway behind him. He'd practically dragged both him and Taehyung back through the crowd and round a small corner behind the stage as soon as the battles had finished, distraught as he shoved past the security trolls with little finesse.
Jimin wilts a little, peering over Seokjin's shoulder and down the hallway. Floating lanterns flicker overhead, illuminating the brick, and Jimin's sure he hears unmistakable cursing coming from one of the slightly ajar doors down the end. Shit.
I'm supposed to heal him? The lump in his throat grows and he attempts to swallow past it, gaze flitting to Taehyung.
The lilac haired male shakes his head, eyes wide."I'm still erratic when it comes to hexes, my power is too weak to control the level of-"
"Jimin, I know you don't know him but please." Seokjin begs, sweat rolling down his temple. He looks desperate, lips twisted into the kind of frown that Jimin can't bare to see on his friends face.
I've got no choice.
"Fine." He grits out, almost throwing his hands up in surrender. Seokjin and Taehyung visably relax, the elders shoulders sagging, and before Jimin even has the chance to voice another thought he's being dragged off and down the corridor, shouldering past several bewildered people.
They reach the door at the end of the corridor and Seokjin doesn't even bother to knock, propelling himself (and a wide eyed Jimin) over the threshold and into what looks like a sort of changing room. It's not too big, a couple closets and what appears to be a bathroom leading off to the side. The smells of sweat and electricity lace the air, faint cologne wafting past his nostrils, and he's almost assaulted at the bright, yellow lights attached to the large mirrors over the dressing tables.
Dressing tables that are littered with various ointments and creams. Jimin frowns, takes note of a couple used to relieve the itch of a stinging nettle. Namjoon's currently standing over them, movements clumsy as he reads the labels and frets over the ingredients. Before Jimin can stop himself he's parting his lips, brows furrowed.
"They won't work."
Namjoon's head snaps up, and for a moment he appears confused, a crease between his brows and a frown twitching at his lips. "Who-" He cuts himself off when he notices Seokjin behind Jimin, expression morphing to something more shocked, then soft.
"We came quickly, you need a healer, yes?" Seokjin asks, hand on Jimins shoulder. "Jimin-ah is an expert in hexes."
"Oh, this is Jimin." Namjoon nods, expression lighting up a little. "Sorry for my manners its just-"
"It's quite alright." Jimin cuts him off, waving a hand."It's nice to finally meet you."
Seokjin introduces Taehyung, the other man practically still gawking at Namjoon. He launches into a series of compliments, and Jimin watches Namjoon visably flush, the man scratching at the back of his neck as he shyly accepts such flattery. Seokjin looks ready to hurl Taehyung out of the room when the bathroom door is suddenly yanked open, light spilling into the room as two figures stumble in.
"Hoseok-" Namjoon begins, eyes widening. Jimin almost chokes on his spit at the sight of the two men, a distressed looking Hoseok attempting to carry what looks like an almost unconcious Suga. The man appears even paler than usual, the pink of his lips even faded. He's shuddering, eyes not entirely focused as he leans his weight on Hoseok and lets the red head (turned canary yellow) tug him over to the small sofa in the corner of the room.
Something in Jimins gut lurches, and he's stepping forward before he can stop himself.
"Woah, who-" Hoseok begins, looking almost ready to push Jimin out of the way until he notices Seokjin. Namjoon's quick to step forward, voice surprisingly calm as he gestures to Jimin and Taehyung.
"This is Jimin and Taehyung, Seokjin's friends." The blonde nods,"Jimin here is an expert in hexes."
Hoseok's gaze flits back to Jimin."Do you think you can cure hyung?" Concern marrs his brow as he casts Suga a long, dispirited look.
Jimin winces, eyes still rooted on Suga. He's shivering, hands grasping at his arms and nails surely digging crescents into his skin. "I've seen this once before, I should be able to."
And he's sure of it now, a young boy had once been brought into the shop during his training days, his poor mother distraught as she screeched something about a neighbourhood fight going wrong. The boy had been near hysterical, scratching at his skin and screaming his mothers name. It was a case that Jimin hadn't been able to forget, the heartbroken sobs of the childs mother still enough to make his chest tighten up.
Seeing Suga like it now does nothing to lessen the pain he'd felt back then.
"What did he even do?" Taehyung asks, edging forward. He's wincing at the way Suga's breath leaves his lips in sharp pants, a thin sheen of sweat now coating his brow.
"It's a form of stinging hex." Namjoon remarks, expression unimpressed. "The bastard cast a stinging hex on him."
"The fucking cheat." Seokjin snarls, a look Jimin is far from used to seeing. He can't blame Seokjin though, not in a situation like this.In fact, his feelings for Donghyun are much the same, despite not knowing the male.
Jimin scoots past Hoseok then, unable to let the man on the sofa suffer anymore. "We need clean water and a cloth." He starts, turning to look over his shoulder at the others. Hoseok is the first to move, nodding an affirmative before rushing off towards the bathroom.
"You said before that the ointments wouldn't work?" Namjoon asks, practically leaning over his shoulder."Why is that?"
Jimin swallows, eyes raking over Suga's form."Even if charmed the hex is too strong just for topical medicines. He needs the touch and the words of a healer well versed in the art of hexes. Whoever Donghyun is, his craft in the dark arts is strong."
Behind him, Taehyung curses, the sound breathless and drawn out. Seokjin leans against the wall as though for support, casting worried looks toward Namjoon every few seconds.
Hoseok's back in moments, practically thrusting the bowl of water in Jimins direction. He bites on his lip, expression one of distress."Please do what you can."
Jimin nods, shifts his attention back to the man on the sofa before him. The adrenaline buzzing beneath his skin is starting to wear off now, and all he feels is an honest panic. He lifts a weary hand, and gently strokes a thumb across Suga's forehead, smoothing the damp strands of hair from his face. The man seems to keen at the touch, pushing into the warmth of his hand as though it'll help fight the pain of the stings. Jimin's heart does an unwelcome flip, and he scoots closer, breath fanning across the mans face.
"Suga, just hold on a little more, alright?" He asks, voice featherlight.
He soakes the cloth in cold water and presses it to the mans head in an attempt to bring down his temperature, and then sits up straighter, brows furrowing in concentration as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt. He tries not to flush in embarrassment at the sight of smooth, pale chest and sharp collarbones, and ignores the weight of everyone's stares on his back.
Now is not the time to be embarrassed, Jimin.
Gently, he places his palms against the skin of Suga's chest. Behind him Hoseok starts to speak, only to be silenced by Namjoon, who's watching rather eagerly over his shoulder. Taehyung remains in the corner with Seokjin, hands clasped tightly together and expression stoney.
Jimin pushes back the wave of emotion that tugs on his heart when Suga flinches at his touch. He's in so much pain.
He grits his teeth. Don't think about it now, cure him.
He closes his eyes, summons up the power welling up inside of him. He's never been something like a prodigy, like Taehyung, nor has he ever held such a large amount of power, unable to control it. But he's always worked hard.
Especially after his accident.
When warmth graces the skin of his palms he relaxes, lets the magic flow through his bloodstream and out of his fingertips. It surges into the skin beneath his palm, works it's way into it's target.
Below him, Suga's breath stutters. For a moment he cries out, voice hoarse, and somewhere in Jimin's peripherals he registers Hoseok flinching. Namjoon stops him with a palm to his chest.
Come on. He pleads internally. Curing the hex on the boy those years ago had taken alot out of him, depleting his energy considerably.He knows that now will be no different, if not worse. He clings to the man beneath him, continues to let warmth explode beneath his fingertips.
The laboured breathing beneath him becomes softer, calmer. Jimin cracks his eyes open, peers down at the mans form. He's no longer scratching at his own skin, no longer wears the pained frown that'd marred his features the past twenty minutes. Instead, he seems to lean towards Jimin, eyes fluttering open and closed as he tries to focus.
"Come on, Suga." He whispers before he can stop himself. He presses deeper against the mans skin, feels more of the pressure ease from his fingertips. "Wake up."
The man grunts, lashes fluttering as he fights to keep his eyes open. His body is nowhere near as taught as it once was, relaxing beneath Jimins touch. Just a little more.
He keeps going, fights against the pull begging his body to stop. He sags a little, sweat beading along his forehead and skin erupting into goosebumps.Raking in a shuddering breath he pushes, just a bit-
He releases a startled yelp as he's shoved backwards, head almost colliding with the small, wooden coffee table behind him. He lands on the floor with a harsh thump, confusion marring his features as he looks up. Wha-
"What are you doing to me?"
It's Suga, Jimin realises. He's sitting up just slightly, eyes round and bloodshot, and breathing laboured. He's studying Jimin with a mixture of shock and austerity, a crease between his brows and chest heaving. Seokjin immediately rushes to help Jimin sit up, his own eyes wide. "Jimin!"
"What the hell?" He curses, glowering."He's-
"Yoong-" Namjoon begins, only to be cut off by the blonde on the sofa. The hint of betrayal in his voice is almost comical.
"What did he do? You just let him-"
"Calm down!" Hoseok shouts, anger lacing his voice."He helped you, you fool."
Suga curses, confusion evident on his features. Jimin wilts under his gaze, drastically different to how the illusionist had looked at him earlier. Something pangs in his chest, painful, and he stamps it down.
What's wrong with me?
"I didn't need help." The man finally states, rather petulantly at that. There's a moment of silence, and Jimin's jaw drops. He grits his teeth, feels the ire tingling beneath his skin threaten to overspill. He..what?
"Yoongi, you were hexed." Namjoon states, frustrated. "You-"
"I'm sure I could have handled it." The blonde snaps, lips twisted into a sneer. "Instead you brought in a random-"
"You could not have handled it."
Jimin doesn't even realise that it's him who's speaking until Suga's gaze snaps to his, eyes laced with liquid fire. "You-"
"You were hexed with the darkest of magic, and you were hexed badly. If I had not healed you, you would've ended up camatose from the pain and the incessent itching driving you insane." He huffs as he stands, swaying a little on his feet. The healing has taken more from him than he thought. "You would have fallen into insanity if you'd been left to your own devices. If you want to act so proud then atleast do so for a reason, for stupidity is not one."
Silence settles across the room. Somewhere in the distance the sound of faint chatter weaves through the crack in the door. Jimin ignores it, chest heaving with the exertion it takes to simply stand. Hoseok and Namjoon are watching him, eyes wide, and Seokjin's gritting his teeth, still attempting to support Jimin.
Taehyung looks more than irked, the man standing by the door, arms crossed and stoney gaze set on Suga. Jimin doesn't bother to tell him to calm down, not when he's feeling just as upset. I knew I was right.
Despite knowing that his first opinion on the man was, in fact right,he can't help the suddenly heavy, burdened feeling that weighs in his chest.
He does not waver under the blondes gaze, refuses to do so even when Suga cocks his head, studying him carefully. Something flickers behind those dark irises, and Jimin feels that familiar pang in his chest once more.
"Understood." The man finally states, voice gruff. He still looks close to having a tantrum of sorts, though simply crosses his arms and looks down at his feet, sweat rolling down his temple. Too rude to even thank me.
Jimin rolls his eyes, thoroughly fed up with the day's events. He wants nothing more than to sink between his sheets and sleep for the entirety of tomorrow, his body weak and head already feeling heavy. He wants to be as far from here as possible.
"Thankyou, Jimin." It's Namjoon who finally speaks, breaking some of the intensity in the atmosphere."Thankyou for healing Yoongi hyung."
Atleast someone said it.
"It's o-" Jimin falters, lips twisting into a frown. "Yoongi?"
I thought that his name was Suga?
"Suga is his stagename." Hoseok smirks, a knowling glint flickering behind his eyes when he takes note of the flush suddenly spouting along Jimin's cheeks. "Sorry, probably should have told you that when you were talking to him.."
Jimin flushes all over again,embarrassment spreading to the tips of his ears. Oh god. They all heard me. His gaze flickers to Yoongi, and he can't help but take note of the faint smattering of pink dusting the other mans cheeks as he stares resolutely at the ground. Surely from exertion.
Now he really wants the day to be over. He's suddenly done with the furtive glances Yoongi keeps casting him, with his ungrateful manners and intense, dark gaze. He huffs, turns to bow to Namjoon and Hoseok.
"It was really nice meeting you both." He murmurs, ignoring the wave of dizziness that overcomes him."I hope we can meet again soon."
"We need to get you home, now." Seokjin breathes, a hand on his back."You haven't done this in a while."
"I'm fine." Jimin huffs, breathless. Taehyung pushes off of the wall then, expression just as worried.
"Come on, Chim."
"Will we see you again?" Namjoon asks, concern raking over his face as he takes Jimin in. He looks to Seokjin, almost helpless."This was hardly the meeting I had hoped for."
Seokjin shoots his lover a soft look."This week, alright? Now get Yoongi to bed." He sends the man on the sofa a withering look. "And tell him to stop being so embarrassed at the thought of a little help. It'll get him killed."
The blonde in question stiffens, gaze still rooted to the floor.
The others murmur their thanks and goodbyes,and the last thing that Jimin catches sight of is Yoongi's gaze flickering towards his, his eyes ladened with something heated and heavy.
Taehyung's closing his palm around his wrist the next second, whispering an incantation beneath his breath as he transports the three of them away from the overwhelming tension of the underground in a flurry of light.
Things seem to settle back to normal after that.
Jimin spends the next two days recovering from a serious loss in energy, wrapped up between his sheets in bed, his tired muscles slowly mending. Taehyung heals what he can, though still casts Jimin worried glances everytime that he's in the same room. (Which is evidently, everyday since he doesn't seem to want to leave Jimin alone for more than a couple of hours.)
Seokjin visits each day too, bringing hoards of meals round and forcing Jimin to sit up in bed and eat under his watch. Jimin doesn't miss the looks that the two exchange with one another when they watch Jimin shakily spoon soup into his mouth.
At one point Taehyung decides to bring up Yoongi, voice laced with unconcealed distaste as he laments the illusionists previous display. He rants for a while, almost vowing to make Yoongi his number one enemy for his actions, until Jimin politely asks him to no longer mention the mans name. He recieves a bewildered look at that, though doesn't bother to say anything more on the matter. Why should he? It's not as though Yoongi has affected him that much, right?
Except, he realises in that moment, that the blonde has done so.
He frowns to himself as he spoons leftovers into his mouth, gaze rooted on the bedsheets. He barely knows Yoongi, only met the guy twice after all, but he can't help but feel as though his heart's about to carve it's way through his bone and skin when he thinks about the clear displeasure and distrust that'd crossed the mans features when he'd caught sight of Jimin above him. It'd been completely different to how Yoongi had looked at him when they first met, or the smug, cocky smirk that he'd thrown him earlier on in the night.
As he sits scowling to himself, he completely misses the slow,suspicious look that Seokjin and Taehyung cast between one another.
It's later that night when he's feeling much better that he shakes his head, staring at his reflection in the mirror after a long, thoughtful shower.
"Why should you care?" He asks himself. The reflection doesn't answer of course, though he doesn't expect it to.
"Forget about him. It's not as though you'll meet again."
The conviction in his voice isn't strong enough, but it'll have to do.
It turns out that Jimin is wrong. Extremely wrong.
He's never been one for luck, not really. He's spent the majority of his life attempting to avoid unlucky situations only to be swept up right in the middle of them, and so it's really no surprise that everything comes crumbling down around him one night just a couple weeks after the situation that will not be named.
It goes like this- he's cleaning up the stock room of the store after sending Taehyung home for the night, humming along to useless lyrics fizzling out from the overhead speakers and trying not to jump at his own shadow in the dim light cast from the lanterns. It's dark out, the only light other than that of the lanterns cast from the full moon. Though Jimin's pretty much the definition of a terrified child when it comes to being alone in the shop at midnight, he can't help but feel the most relaxed of a night, when city life starts to die down and the moons glow casts an almost clean, unfiltered look across the streets of Seoul.
Though he's decidedly more relaxed when he's tucked up safely in bed, a book nestled between his fingertips and soft music drifting out of his speakers.
He's lazily checking his dwindling number of Wagenweld fungus potions and mumbling the lyrics of some english song haphazardly beneath his breath, when an almighty crash , followed by the sound of splintering wood and the shattering of glass, completely rocks the store.
Jimin shrieks (though will later on deny it to anyone whom asks), and shoots up from his crouched position, his heart practically collapsing through his chest as he ducks out of the stock room and into the main store. He's not entirely sure what he's doing, where the sudden burst of bravery comes from or what he's going to find tearing up his store, but nonetheless he's shooting into the room, lips parted and ready to yell the stickfast hex (a hex that causes the target's shoes to stick to the ground) at whoever it is.
What he see's however, makes him freeze, words dying on his lips.
Standing in the centre of the store, the large, stained glass window behind him shattered to pieces, is none other than Kim Namjoon.
The tiles beneath his feet are cracked, and there's a faint plume of smoke coming off of him, his eyes wide and jaw slack as he looks back at Jimin. Though that's not what grabs Jimins attention, not what makes his ears ring and his chest tighten no-
It's the figure that Namjoon's currently attempting to keep upright, an arm haphazardly hooked underneath the mans armpit.
Jimin releases a shuddering breath, a lump building steadfastly in his throat. Namjoon looks at him rather helplessly, and the man tucked against his side groans, the sound pained.
Namjoons voice is lost on him as he stares down at the man currently laid out on the doctors bed beneath him. Yoongi's half asleep by the looks of it, grunting every few seconds as he shifts. Jimin refuses to aknowledge that the sight is rather cute, instead focusing on the task at hand. (Which is also no better.)
Namjoon grimaces from where he's standing, edging forward to peer between the two."Jimin, say something-"
He's cut off by the finger that Jimin raises, eyes still not straying from Yoongi's unconscious form. He keeps the finger held up, presses his lips together hard because if he doesn't he's really going to lose it.
I can't believe it.
Eventually he manages to school himself, takes a deep breath and looks up at Namjoon who's still watching, hands clasped together painfully tight.
"Namjoon hyung." He finally says, voice strained. Don't lose it Jimin.
"Yes, Jimin." Comes the elders reply.
Jimin rakes in another breath, ignores the dizzying feeling as he feels another wave of laughter threaten to spill.
"Is that a tail?"
There's a long, drawn out sigh. "Yes, Jimin."
"Coming out of Yoongi-ssi?"
He presses his lips together though does nothing to hide the pleased smile tugging at his lips. It stretches across his face, leaves his cheeks aching. Namjoon cocks his head, probably expecting Jimin to burst into tear fueled laughter.
He doesn't,not yet.
Jimin schools his smirk into something more serious, though can't help the waver of his voice when he speaks next.
"So he was hexed again, but this time his opponant gave him a tail."
Namjoon runs a hand over his face, skin paler than usual even in the dim light of the store. "Hyung wasn't paying as much attention in the battle as usual. Usually he's pretty sharp but-uh, his mind was somewhere else. The guy cast the tail growing hex before hyung even reached the second round."
Jimin nods, still smiling. Honestly he can't help it, it's just too amusing. He's almost sad that he sent Taehyung home, his friend now unknowing that his newly named nemesis is currently laying on a hospital bed in store with a little white tail attached to the base of his back.
He chokes on a snicker and nods. Keep it professional Jimin.
Still, the satisfaction is otherworldly. Suddenly he's not so hot headed over his last interaction with Yoongi. What goes around comes around.
"But why is he unconscious?" He asks, brows dipping."The tail growing hex doesn't render it's target-"
"I may have uh, had to sedate him." Namjoon cups the back of his neck, suddenly appearing rather embarrassed. His lips twist and he smiles a little ruefully. "Hyung wasn't exactly forthcoming about visiting you."
Jimin swallows, suddenly a little uncomfortable. Of course he wasn't.
"So you want me to heal him?" He asks eventually, glancing up at Namjoon. The elder winces when Yoongi grunts, still lost to sleep.
"I'm sorry Jimin, really. I just didn't know who else to bring hyung to." Namjoons voice is weak, eyes pleading."I just- you're really good at what you do and I feel like I can trust you. Yoongi hyung....he's not always easy to understand, and I'm sorry for how he treated you last time. He's not usually like that and Hoseok and I really cussed him out over it after you left." He rakes a hand through his hair, looking exhausted enough himself. "Please, Jimin?"
Jimin huffs a long, drawn out sigh. He was never not going to help, he's not that awful of a person after all. He just...
He glances back down at Yoongi, feels something in his stomach lurch uncomfortably. When he looks back up at Namjoon the man's chewing on his lower lip, almost distraught as he peers between Yoongi and Jimin.
"I'll do it." He murmurs, voice soft. Despite his resentment(?) towards Yoongi, he has no ill feelings for Namjoon. In fact, the past couple weeks had taught him that he and Namjoon had a lot in common. He'd been visiting the shop alot with Seokjin lately, had spent ages asking Jimin numerous questions around various potions and herbs. Jimin liked the guy alot.
The smile that lights Namjoon's face is worth the discomfort of being around Yoongi he decides, and so he relaxes just a little, shooting the elder a smaller, genuine smile.
"I'll fix him up, but you had better go and fix my window before someone think's there's been a break in and calls the police, or worse, the ministry. The last thing we want is the wizarding world on our case for exposing magic."
Namjoon flushes a little at the words, scratching the back of his neck."S-sorry about that. I haven't gotten the hang of apparation yet."
Jimin's about to voice a proposal for Namjoon to talk to Taehyung about it, then decides against it. Those two together would be a nightmare.
"Do you need me to stay and help?" The blonde asks, standing with a grunt. He casts Yoongi a concerned look, shuffling on his feet. Jimin shakes his head despite an internal voice screaming at him yes, please stay, and sends the man another bigger, more reassuring smile.
"I've got it, thanks. Just focus on the window, that was a gift from Taehyung's mother."
Namjoon ducks his head, groaning to himself as he scuttles out of the room, mutterings of 'typical' and 'Seokjin's going to kill me' tumbling from his lips as he goes. Jimin huffs a laugh, fondness blooming in his chest for the elder man. Namjoon's heart was in a good place.
With the elder gone though, the sound of shifting glass and wood spilling through the crack in the door left ajar, Jimin finds himself looking down at Yoongi with a mixture of apprehension and nervousness.
Hyung wasn't exactly forthcoming about visiting you.
Jimin releases a shuddering breath. Maybe he really should wait for Namjoon to come back.
But judging by the sound of it out there the elder will be a while. He'd done some serious damage on the window after all. He resists the urge to sigh again and studies Yoongi's sleeping form. The elder looks pained even in sleep, though in the rare moments that his face seems to relax Jimin can't help but want to smile. The mans lips are puckered into a slight pout, his cheeks tinted slightly pink and blonde locks falling across pale skin.
Like this he doesn't seem half as dangerous to Jimins health.
He lets himself stare for a moment longer, before he's dragging himself over to the medicine cabinet to gather some glass phials. He decides not to take his time, not sure when the blonde will wake and lose his sanity again, and forces his feet back to Yoongi's side, already channeling his inner power for what he's about to do. Most hexes can't be cured just by medicine alone, a greater, inner power is needed in order to completely obliterate the problem. He internally groans at how tired he's going to be afterward (though thankfully nowhere near how tired he was last time) and moves to pull the sleeve of Yoongi's black hoodie up. He only needs the skin of the mans wrist this time, the source of the hex more localised instead of full body.
The tail stands almost proudly from under Yoongi's trousers, waving around every few minutes. Jimin ignores the faint bubbling of amusement, the whirring of heat settling along the skin of his cheeks because even if it is funny and adorable, he'll never admit it.
He shoots Yoongi one last withering look, praying he won't regret this, before closing his eyes and letting the warmth inside of his body seep out and into the elder man.
Yoongi seems to regain conciousness around the same time that Jimin's finishing up, his hands still wrapped around the illusionists wrist, feeding warm, amber light into his skin.
The man starts for a moment, a pained groan stuck in his throat, and pries his eyes open, lashes fluttering prettily against his skin as he comes back to the real world. Jimin presses his lips together, readying himself for the moment he's noticed, the moment that he's shoved away and screamed at again.
It doesn't come.
Instead, the moment that Yoongi's eyes land on him the elder seems to flinch, before his cheeks are blooming the most obscene pink that Jimin's ever seen. He looks ready to yank his wrist from Jimins grasp, but seems to hesitate, expression torn. He stares at Jimin wide eyed, his lips parted as though to shout something, and Jimin simply stays rooted to the spot, his breath stuck in his throat because god, why does he have to be so pretty?
He sucks in a startled breath when Yoongi's face twists into a scowl, the man lifting his free arm to throw it over his face, obscuring his eyes. He lets out a groan, hand twitching in Jimins grasp.
"Fuck sake, fucking Joon-" He curses to himself, voice breathless and low, still muddled with sleep. It does stupid things to Jimins insides but he stamps those feelings down, far too busy focusing on not destroying his efforts of healing Yoongi. The elders skin feels hot to touch, though Jimin puts it down to the immense power currently flooding the mans system.
"I'll kill him." The blonde mutters, arm still covering his eyes, and Jimin cocks a brow. He's not really sure how to react, not when all he can really think about is how Yoongi treated him last time,and so he decides to keep quiet, redirecting his gaze to Yoongi's hand. He's nearly finished anyway, the blonde will be out of his hair before he knows it.
He ignores the jolting pang in his chest, cursing himself for always letting his heart lead too much.
Not that this is a matter of the heart.....right?
He shakes his head. You've met him twice before, don't let it get to your head.
He thinks back to the cocky smile that'd laced the mans features as he'd brushed flower petals from Jimins scarf just weeks earlier, the light behind his eyes as he'd thrown Jimin a wink, mic cradled in hand the same day.
It doesn't matter.
He finally removes his hand from Yoongi's wrist, almost sighing in relief as he glances down the man's body to note that there's no longer a fluffy white tail sticking out of his trousers. He grabs one of the phials to his left, grits his teeth and nudges at Yoongi's arm to get his attention. The man flinches just slightly, before slowly lowering his arm, eyes dark and intense and lips stretched into a frown.
"You need to drink this." He says cooly, successful atleast in keeping his voice in check. Yoongi watches him carefully, eyeing the phial as though it contains the ability to burn down the entirety of Seoul.
Jimin sighs, really not up for his bullshit. "You really think I'd poison you with Namjoon just down the corridor?" He bites, perhaps sharper than he means to. Yoongi starts, something akin to embarrassment flushing his features.
"Drink it unless you want to wake up with another tail sticking out of your trousers." Jimin crosses his arms, sitting back in his stool to regard the man darkly. "Then I really won't heal it."
It's a bit of a lie, after healing him by hand the chances of the tail regrowing are slim, but still - the potion is a binder, should stop any hints of the thing cropping back up.
The man grimaces, skin rosy as he uncorks the small bottle and downs it all in one go. He scrunches his face up in distaste, and Jimin doesn't bother to hide his satisfaction at the sight as he takes the bottle off of him and stands, heading over to the sink to deposite the thing and wash his hands. He feels that concealed, intense gaze rooted to his back as he works, tries (and probably fails) to hide his nerves as he scrubs at himself with soap and dries his hands off with the towel next to the sink.
When he finally has enough courage to turn, Yoongi's studying him carefully, head cocked to the side and lashes weighing thick into his eyes.
Does he have to keep staring?
He suddenly wishes Namjoon was back in the room, finds himself almost tempted to scream down the corridor for him to come back because he isn't sure for how long he can handle Yoongi's staring, especially with his heart going-
"Whats up with you?"
Jimin flinches, not having expected the sudden voice that fills the room. Despite thinking about the low timbre of the mans voice continuously throughout the past few weeks, he's still shocked at how much more pleasant it is than he remembers.
Not now, Jimin.
"W-what?" He manages to stutter out, brows scrunching up. The hell-
"Why are you all jittery?" Yoongi rumbles, jaw clenched."You're acting like I'm going to curse you or something."
Jimin cocks a brow, bewildered."Excuse me-"
"Where's Namjoon? I know the bastard brought me here-"
"He's fixing the window that he broke whilst apparating your ungrateful ass here." Jimin cuts him off, growing impatient with the mans attitude. He crosses his arms, unimpressed."Problem?"
Something flickers behind those dark irises, and Jimin ignores the kick in his chest. The illusionist heaves a sigh then, sitting up rather gingerly. He checks over his shoulder, ralaxes a little at the sight of no tail.
"You got rid of it."
Jimin snorts."It's my job after all." He cocks his head, not in the mood to play nice.
"My head just wasn't in the right place, the bastard snuck up on me-"
"Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"
Yoongi levels him with a stunned glare, eyes narrowing. "Look-"
"You're welcome." Jimin cuts him off, ire colouring his tone.
The other man sighs, the sound suffering and drawn out. "I know I acted...unfavourable, last time-"
"Yeah, you really did."
Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck, cheeks still pink and eyes now darting anywhere but Jimin.He looks almost...embarrassed? Jimin notes that it seems to be a theme with the elder, a constant ruddy tinge to his cheeks whenever he finds himself standing (or sitting) before Jimin.
"I just didn't expect-well, didn't expect to see you like that." The blonde huffs.
Jimin frowns, confusion only doubling."What?" He cocks his head, studying Yoongi carefully."What is that even supposed to mea-"
"It doesn't matter." Yoongi gripes, raking a hand through his hair. It's a mess atop of his head, making the man look must less put together than he usually seems. Jimin tries (probably in vain) to ignore how vulnerable the man suddenly looks.
"It obviously does." He snaps, crossing his arms over his chest."It took alot out of me, healing you, and I was rewarded with childish behaviour. You're unbelievable. You didn't even have the decency to thank me-"
"It was embarrassing, for fucks sake." Yoongi cries, throwing his hands up. He's breathing heavily still, eyes burning into the floor as though it's personally wronged him.
"E-embarrassing?" He questions,utterly perplexed. This is ridiculous. I've got no idea what he's thinking-
The elder grits his teeth, seemingly mulling the words over in his mouth before parting his lips to speak. "It was embarrassing for you to see me like that." He states, voice trailing off towards the end of the sentence. His gaze remains steadfastly on the floor and Jimin simply stares, unblinking in disbelief.
Something warm blooms in his chest, something that makes him feel heady, dizzy almost, and despite his attempts to stamp it down it doesn't work. He feels jittery suddenly, almost embarrassed himself.
Say something, idiot.
"You....why?" He eventually settles for, the strain in his voice obvious.
It's then that Yoongi finally looks up, piercing eyes meeting his, unwavering in their glory. "Jimin-"
Whether to count it lucky or not, Namjoon decides to make his entrance at that particular moment. The door swings open, catching the wind and unceremoniously smashing into the wall from the force of the other mans swing. It startles all three of them, though it's Jimin that lets out an almost inhumane squeak, shoulders bunching up by his ears as he shoots back, almost falling into the basin behind him.
He flounders for a moment, words caught in his throat as he looks anywhere but Yoongi, who's currently coughing on his own spit in the corner.
Namjoon apologises sheepishly, before he's frowning between the two men, seemingly catching on to something that even Jimin's not sure of. He takes a moment to regard them both, eyebrow cocked and the corners of his lips curling up knowingly, before he's sighing to himself, shaking his head.
"I see you're awake then." He huffs at Yoongi, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Yoongi turns his scowl toward the other blonde, eyes lit with a certain fire. He's still red in the face, his hands balled into fists by his side. Jimin tries not to stare (and fails).
"Yeah, no thanks to you. I can't believe you fucking sedated me-"
"I had to for your own good, hyung." Namjoon drawls, leaning against the doorframe. Jimin wonders how close the two men must be to bicker so easily and for Namjoon to barely flinch under Yoongi's hostile glare. Something in him twists, and he bites down on his lip to keep it at bay.
"My own good? You cast magic on me then dragged me here of all places-"
"See? That's exactly why I sedated you." The Auror quips."You know fully well that most healers aren't open after hours, and the ones that are already despise you and your snarky attitude-"
"You would've had to go with that tail until Monday." Namjoon crosses his arms."The closest healers that can still handle you are off for the weekend. Would you really have gone all that time looking like someones idea of a fetish?"
Jimin has to cup a hand over his mouth to hide a snicker, though he doesn't think he's so successful if the glare that Yoongi throws him and the smirk that re-attatches itself to Namjoon's lips are anything to go by.
"Just grow up hyung. If you want to work underground you've gotta be prepared to get dealt a few blows. You can't always deny help when it's offered to you."
Yoongi curses beneath his breath, jaw set in a hard, firm line. "You still didn't have to bring me here."
"Do you have a problem with me?" Jimin cuts in, unable to listen anymore. He's frowning, head whirling a little from having used up his energy earlier on, but right now all he can think about is how much it hurts that the man seated before him clearly has no respect for him.
Yoongi can't quite seem to look him in the eye, his gaze set on the wall beside Jimin's head. Jimin grits his teeth , muscles clenching from how hard he's holding himself back.
Eventually Yoongi shakes his head, looking every bit a child. Jimin huffs. I'm obviously getting nowhere.
"Yoongi hyung hates getting help." Namjoon eventually states, still leaning against the doorframe. "Ignore him Jimin-ah, it's really not-"
"Will you just shut it?" The other man cuts, gaze sharp. "It's not like that-"
"Then atleast thank Jimin for healing you, again, when he really didn't have to." Namjoon snaps, anger finally leaking through the nonchelant facade he'd been putting up. Jimin suddenly feels a little too uncomfortable, wanting to apparate on the spot right then and there.
"I don't know what's up with you, but you're behaving like a child-"
The room falls into silence at the words, and Jimin sucks in a sharp breath because he hadn't been expecting them to leave Yoongi's mouth, and certainly not as sincerely as they do.
For a moment he simply stares, breath caught in an uncomfortable ball in his throat and his ears ringing a little as Yoongi looks up at him, no trace of the earlier anger behind those dark, feline eyes.
He finds his voice eventually, hoping Yoongi can hear it over the sound of his heartbeat. "You-uh, it's fine." He chokes out, unable to look away. They remain like that for a moment, seemingly stuck. Jimin tries not to let it get to him, the way that Yoongi's gaze seem's to work it's way completely through him, probably taking note of everything.
He's never felt quite so vulnerable.
"See?" Namjoon's voice cuts through the moment, both men snapping out of it."It wasn't so hard, was it?"
Jimin merely stares at the floor as Yoongi huffs something barely audible beneath his breath. The moment is shattered, and Jimin's almost thankful for it because he's really really confused right now.
"Your window is all fixed up by the way, sorry again for breaking it..." Namjoon continues, raking a hand tiredly through his hair. Jimin only nods, flashing the man a small smile.
"It's quite alright, I'm used to Taehyung's antics around here anyway. Sometimes he'll bring Jungkook and they'll practice different charms in the basement, it looks like a bomb's gone off down there." He sighs as Namjoon laughs, cracking his own smile at the sight of the elders easiness.
He's glad Namjoon's around.
"I guess we should be leaving." The blonde remarks, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room."I didn't realise just how late it was." He curses slightly, sending Yoongi a quick look before his gaze flits back to Jimins. "I'm sorry again for taking up your time, you must be exhausted."
Jimin waves him off, happy to help despite the exhaustion slowly thrumming beneath his skin. "It's no problem, really. Anytime, hyung."
He watches as Yoongi heaves himself off of the bed, expression still unreadable as he shucks his leather jacket on. Namjoon only rolls his eyes, before reaching across and patting Jimin on the shoulder.
"Let me know how I can make it up to you atleast, alright?"
Jimin huffs a laugh, but nods nonetheless. "Get home safe." He murmurs, taking a step back as he watches Namjoon wrap a hand around Yoongi's wrist. The elder looks a little apprehensive at the idea of apparating again, but Yoongi looks far too exhausted to travel otherwise so Jimin hopes they'll make it without smashing anything else to bits. He raises his hand in a wave as Namjoon utters the charm beneath his breath, and the last thing Jimin catches sight of is Yoongi's low, watchful gaze on him as the two men disappear in a flourish of air and light.
After they're gone he takes a moment to lean against the basin behind him, breath leaving in little drawn out pants. He closes his eyes, brings a hand up to scrub it across his face as he lets out a long, suffering groan. This is pathetic.
"What am I doing?"
Later when he recounts the story to a gobsmacked (disappointed) Taehyung, he can't help but snicker over the way that Yoongi had patted the small of his back suspiciously as he'd gotten up to leave, as though frightened the little white tail would return with a vengence. His friend only snorts, laughter ringing off of the walls of the apartment as he slaps his knee and leans into Jimins side.
"Looks like he got what he deserved." The man had remarked, crossing his arms with satisfaction. "Shame I had to miss it."
Jimin had only hummed.
A shame indeed.
It shouldn't really be any surprise, after that night, that Namjoon often turns up late at night whilst Jimins in the process of locking up, an either sedated, or scrambling Yoongi clutched to his side and a pleading look on his face.
Healing a disgruntled Yoongi after a bad hexing seems to become a routine of sorts for Jimin over the next few weeks. Sometimes Taehyung's there, already snorting into the palm of his hand and attempting to poke at whatever new abnormality the elder has been cursed with (without much success-Yoongi was lethal, especially around Taehyung.) , though most of the time Jimin's alone, his heart uncomfortably kicking in his chest each time he looks up to the sound of an almighty crash to find the narrow eyed blonde standing in the middle of the room, lips in a grimace and brows furrowed as though he really doesn't want to be there.
For the most part they continue to argue amongst themselves, endless bickerings and banter fizzling between the two as Jimin patches the elder up. They'll squabble over anything, the brightness of the lights, how comfortable the hospital bed is, whether or not Jimin's trying to poison Yoongi with the amount of potions he makes him drink. Namjoon (and sometimes Hoseok) will watch them silently, arms crossed over his chest and a withering, almost fond look on his face as he studies them.
Sometimes he'll shoot off to phone Seokjin, and sometimes Seokjin will already be there, snickering over whatever state Yoongi's gotten himself into for the night.
Other than that, Jimin's routine remains much the same. He'll hang out with Hoseok and Namjoon and the others during the week, will let Taehyung and a fresh faced finally old enough Jungkook drag him down to the underground to watch more performances. On the days that Yoongi performs Jimin has to stamp down whatever emotion it is that's welling hot and heavy in his chest as he watches the man rap about his past and his desires. He'll often lose himself in Yoongi's lyrics, hates how easily he flushes whenever the elder turns that heated gaze right on him, something flickering behind his eyes as he cocks his head at Jimin and spits into the mic with the warmth of a thousand suns.
On those days Jimin goes home lost for words, dreams of onyx eyes and pink lips.
Of course Taehyung and Seokjin notice, the two teasing him relentlessly over his flushed cheeks and wandering eyes. He takes to swatting and hissing at them in a blind panic whenever Yoongi's nearby, his heart practically in his throat.
His only hope is that Yoongi himself doesn't notice.He's still confused himself over what his body is trying to tell him, he'd probably have to apparate somewhere far, far away if Yoongi ever suspected he was- well, a flustered fool in lo-like...
No, he keeps to himself in the end. He continues with their bickerings and the steely glares they often exchange and instead ignores the tension between them, ignores the way that he often finds Yoongi's gaze burning intensely into the side of his face, or the way that his cheeks pinken slightly whenever Jimin presses a hand to bare skin to heal him.
It doesn't mean anything.
It's a saturday afternoon when Yoongi slams through the front door of the shop, hood pulled up over his head and a snarl snapping at his features as he growls out Jimins name.
Jimin's behind the counter with Seokjin, the two bickering over what type of mucus works best in a sleepers draught, and barely even flinches as the door slams shut on reflex, causing several glass phials and jars about the shop to shake.
Instead he turns a withering stare on Yoongi, already pissed off because he's busy damn it.
"I need you to heal me." The elder cuts him off, almost slapping his palms against the counter as he leans against it. He's breathing rather heavily, a faint sheen of sweat cast across his skin as he sags against the wood.
Jimin frowns."It's Saturday. You haven't even been underground."
He supposes it's rather amusing, how easily he and Yoongi can talk to one another now. Their constant bickering leaves no room for awkwardness,an underlying agreement settled between the two ever since Yoongi said thankyou the second time Jimin healed him, and so when Yoongi groans and flops across the counter, some of his blonde hair spilling out from under his hood, Jimin doesn't even hesitate in reaching out to scratch at his hair. It's how they are with eachother lately, more in a teasing way but touchy nonetheless. They seem to constantly gravitate towards one another.
No awkwardness, right?
Except it is kind of awkward when Yoongi cups the back of his neck and scratches absentmindedly whilst he's reading through his hastily scrawled lyrics, or when Jimin ends up having to hold his hand when they apparate somewhere with the others. Neither say anything though of course, it's a strange stale mate between the two, as though they're both too comfortable, whilst also increadibly tense around eachother. Honestly, it's confusing.
And so he reaches out to push Yoongi's hood off and scratch at his hair, and promptly feels his heart fall into his stomach at the sight of two furry, pointed ears sticking out between the mans locks.
Yoongi flinches on reflex, shooting up with a startled gasp, and curses immediately at the sight of Jimin's expression.
"For fucks sake-"
"What the hell?" Jimin screeches, pointing at the offending ears."What is that?"
"It's not my fault!" Yoongi cries, rushing to throw his hood back up. He's flushed, cheeks a ruddy crimson as he pats at the hood and turns that snarky, sharp glare on Jimin. "You-"
Jimin's head reels, almost dizzy as he tries to get a grasp on what he just saw. "Fluffy-"
"It was a fucking old hag near the town centre." Yoongi grumbles. "I was performing and some of my fire got a little too close to her fucking walking stick. The thing burst into flames so she put a hex on me-"
"Oh my god." Seokjin cuts Yoongi off, jaw slack. Before the blonde can say anything else the eldest launches into a fit of laugher, slumping over the counter in an attempt to hold himself up. He's wheezing, eyes scrunched as he slaps his palm against the table a few times.
"I can't believe this." He huffs, wiping at his eyes."Oh my god, Yoongi's a cat-"
"Shut the fuck up." Yoongi growls, lips puckered into the most ridiculous pout. He attempts to look scary, but at this point Jimin's immune to it. Seokjin only laughs harder, shaking his head as reaches into his pocket. "I-I need to call Namjoo-"
"No you fucking dont." Yoongi practically launches himself at the counter, vaulting over it in an attempt to snatch Seokjins phone. Pen pots and papers go crashing to the floor in the chaos, and Jimin can only watch, gobsmacked as Seokjin dodges Yoongi's grasp and legs it for the stock room with surprising speed. Yoongi lets out an almost inhumane growl of contempt, before he's whirling on Jimin, jabbing a finger at his chest.
"Get these things off of me."
Jimin cocks a brow, completely unbothered. He'd long since forgiven Yoongi for how he'd acted the second time they'd met, not someone to hold grudges for long. It helped that he'd said thankyou the second time he'd healed him too, but that doesn't mean he's going to just roll over and let the elder order him around. Yoongi has a stupid way of asking for help, he's noted, and so he's decided that he's not going to make it easy for him. (Much to Namjoon and Hoseok's amusement.)
"That's not a very polite way of asking." He purses his lips, ignores the barely restrained curse that escapes Yoongi's mouth.
"Fuck, fine. Jimin, please get these fucking atrocities off of my head. I beg of you."
Jimin pauses for a moment, staring up at the man who's still seated on his counter, and then sighs. "Fine. Clean up this mess first though."
Yoongi curses again, though more subdued this time before he's jumping down off of the counter and hurriedly shoving everything back onto the desk. He's muttering to himself as he goes, and when he stands up again his hood slips down, exposing the little tufts of fur encasing the ears.
Keep it together Jimin.
When Yoongi catches him staring, he cocks his head. "What now?" His ears twitch, and that's when Jimin loses it.
At first it's just a smirk, tugging uselessly at his lips as he tries to reign it in. Something flickers behind Yoongi's eyes, and his expression darkens. "Jimin-ah-"
Jimin presses his lips together, feeling his face contorting with the effort to keep control.
He can't help it, he really can't. In the next second he's giggling, the sound loud and incessent throughout the store. It echoes off the walls, bubbles low in his stomach and his chest. It's just too funny.
He looks like an angry cat.
He has to actually lean against the counter for support, his cheeks aching with how much he's laughing. Yoongi simply stands there, shoulders sagging and hair falling into his eyes.
It's not until Jimin's managed to wipe the tears from his own that he catches the fond look that the illusionist has trained on him, the elders lips pressed together, doing a poor job of hiding the faintest hint of smile.
Jimins breath catches a little, and he allows himself to stare back for a moment, before he's dragging his gaze away, cheeks heating up. He clears his throat, tries not to think about the eyes still trained into the side of his face as he turns around.
"Come on, let's get you fixed up hyung."
"First a tail, then ears. Now all you need is for someone to hex you with whiskers,then you can complete the look-"
"Shut it, Jimin."
Later there's an almighty crack that signifies the obvious arrival of Namjoon. It's not until the sound of his laughter bellows through the half open door that Jimin understands what he's saying.
"I can't believe you managed to get a picture-"
Seokjin's hacking wheeze follows, and Jimin slowly turns to look at Yoongi. It takes the man a second to realise, before his eyes are widening and he's shooting up and off of the bed, absolutely blazing.
Jimin looks up from the book on Skeet venom he's currently scanning to meet Taehyung's eyes. He cocks a brow at the way his friend is smirking, the dim light of the shop casting shadows across his face in an almost menacing manner. That can't be good.
"Yes?" He questions, not entirely sure he likes where this is going already. The look on Taehyung's face is enough to have him apprehensive.
"I saw Yoongi hyung today."
Jimin nods slowly."Okay...." What does he want me to say to that?
Taehyung lounges back in his armchair, crossing his legs infront of him and looking every bit like some kind of mafia boss. "In the town centre."
Jimins throat goes dry."Uh-"
"It's rather funny actually, because he was peformi-"
"Alright, what do you want?" Jimin huffs, slamming the book closed beneath him with a thud. This is ridiculous.
"I want to know why you lied about Yoongi hyung. He's the illusionist you met before, right? Unless there are any other magical folk brave enough to perform in the heart of Seoul." Taehyung motions, eyebrows knit together. "Why didn't you-"
"Because I didn't see the need." Jimin sighs, an uncomfortable heat spreading through his limbs."Why would I-"
"Because it changes things, Jimin-ah!" Taehyung whines. He stands then, red lanterns casting a soft glow atop his lilac hair. "If anything it's one of the explanations for yours and Yoongi's awkwardness around one another."
Jimin grimaces, already flushing. "We're not-"
"Denying it makes it worse, Jimin." Taehyung sighs. He comes over to lean against the counter on the opposite side of Jimin, eyes imploring."You two have more tension than that rope Seokjin hyung uses to tie up Namjo-"
"Please, don't bring that up." Jimin holds up a hand. "Besides, the only interactions I have with Yoongi hyung are arguments." He mutters, rather bitterly.
Taehyung rolls his eyes."You bicker." His friend states, as though there's a massive difference."But you also never leave one another alone. I don't think I've ever seen you two not touching in some way.Honestly it's starting to become kind of sick-"
"Yah!" Heat blooms along Jimins cheeks, and he shakes his head. "This is ridiculous! We're not like that. Yoongi isn't like that."
The other man cocks a brow."Last night he blushed when you told him he had a nice voice."
Jimin presses his lips together, sweat collecting along his palms."So? Lots of people flush at compliments."
"When I told him he was my favourite rapper he smacked my cap off of my head and told me to stop eating his ass." Taehyung finishes, crossing his arms."Come on Jimin, you must sense something between the two of you.It's painfully obvious to the rest of us."
"The rest of you?" Jimin exclaims, eyes growing wide.Something akin to dread starts to settle in his gut."What do you mean the rest of you?Tae-"
"I mean that all of us have noticed the weird little tension going on between you both. You can't keep your hands and eyes off of one another. Even Jungkook's asking questions, and you know how oblivious he is."
Jimin frowns, something fluttering erratically in his chest. I can't believe this, they've all been talking about us behind our backs. He suppresses a curse. For how long?
"Yoongi hyung doesn't look at me like that, Tae. You must be mistaken." He mumbles, words stringing together.
"He's always teasing me, you know? He slams in here demanding to be healed almost every few days, and he's impossible to talk to, has to turn everything into a petty argument just so he can watch me get angry. He rarely says thankyou when I heal him, and he always looks disgusted when he has to hold my hand when we apparate or sit next to me at the damn dining table. It's tiring, Tae. Yoongi doesn't like me and that's fine, but god is his attitude exhausting."
Taehyung sighs, leaning a little more against the counter so that he can extend his hand and wrap it around Jimins. He threads their fingers together, expression soft.
"You don't see what we see, Jimin-ah." He murmurs.
"I mean it." He starts."We see the fond looks he sends you when you're not looking, and the way in which even whilst you're bickering at the dining table he's still loading meat onto your plate. We see the way he snaps at the crowd when people are shoving too hard against us during the battles, and the way his gaze never strays from you the whole time he's rapping."
Jimin's cheeks are probably crimson by now, and he ducks his head down, embarrassed and wary."Tae, it's not-"
"Yoongi hyung can be difficult at times, sure." He nods, lilac hair spilling into his eyes."But I think he's just messed up over this tension as you are."
Jimin lets his gaze flicker up to meet Taehyung's, finds nothing but honesty there. "I'm...." I'm not messed up over it, he wants to say, but he finds he can't because he is. He's so messed up over it that most nights he dreams of Yoongi, that whenever he's in the elders presence he's clumsy, drops phials of suspicious liquids and stumbles over his words. (Much to the elders amusement.)
It's ridiculous how much Yoongi has messed him up, though he doesn't have the heart to get angry at the elder man for it. Not in those rare moments that Yoongi flashes him his teasing, gummy smile and ruffles his hair. Not when he's training that sultry, unwavering gaze on Jimin whilst rapping about all the possibilities of love and hope.
For a second, a brief, momentus second, he allows himself to hope. (He'll ditch it tomorrow morning.)
"Besides, Min Yoongi is notoriously a sweetheart, from what I've heard." His friend adds, eyes lighting up."He's just...shy."
Jimin sighs, squeezes Taehyung's hand a little tighter. "I don't understand him." He finally whispers.
Taehyung snorts, nods."Me either really, but I suppose that's alright for now. Things will fall into place if you let them, Jimin-ah."
Jimin rolls his eyes."Don't get all mystic on me now."
"I'm serious!" Taehyung whines."Just...just stop worrying over it all, alright? I can see the stress eating at you and I hate it." He pouts.
That has Jimin smiling. It's not huge, but it's genuine."Thanks Tae."
"No problem." His friend beams, the smile doing more to calm the pace of Jimins heart than anything else has in days."That doesn't mean I've forgiven you for hiding Yoongi's identity though."
Jimin rolls his eyes."Considering you've all been talking behind my back for weeks, let's call it even, hm?" Jimin cocks his brows. Taehyung shifts sheepishly under his gaze, smile quirking at his lips.
They leave the shop in a fit of laughter that night, the tension in Jimins limbs somewhat lighter as he lets his friend drag him through the doorway and out, onto the cobbled streets.
It's a Saturday night and once again, Jimin finds himself in the underground, slinking through throngs of over excited and leather clad people as Taehyung drags him with a firm grip through the crowd and down the corridor that leads backstage.
He and Taehyung are still laughing, the imprint of the last battle flashing before their eyes. The guy that'd challenged Yoongi hadn't had a hope, and Jimin was having trouble raking in a proper breath still from how hard he'd laughed when Yoongi had hexed the guy with the hurling hex. The poor guy had promptly bent over and vomitted across the stage, his group members proceeding to slip in the mess as they'd rushed to his aid.
A shit show, indeed.
"Did you see the look on Hoseok's face?" Taehyung's snorting, almost stumbling as he links arms with Jimin and tugs him past a couple wide eyed women draped in silk. He bumps into the hallway wall, and Jimin snickers.
"He was gagging just at the smell of it."
They can already hear Yoongi's shouts from somewhere down the corridor, and Jimin feels his heart skitter a little in response. He'd almost combusted earlier tonight when Yoongi had caught his eye, his those dark, intense eyes raking down his loose shirt and tight, ripped jeans. Taehyung had smirked from beside him, and Jimin had proceeded to practically duck behind his friend.
He catches sight of a shock of blonde hair at the same time that Taehyung does, and his friend's about to open his mouth and shout Yoongi's name when someone stops infront of them, blocking their way.
Jimin opens his mouth to ask the guy to move, when he redirects his gaze to assess the man properly and promptly feels his stomach swirl.
Jimin rakes in a breath, freezing up completely as the man infront of him tilts his head, a furrow between his brows.
Oh god. It can't be-
"W-Wonho." He stutters, voice weak. Beside him Taehyung freezes up too, eyes widening in realisation. It's been a long time since they last saw their old friend, it's been years. He looks different now, his previously bleach blonde hair replaced with raven black, falling into his eyes in sharp wisps.
"I can't believe this, I haven't seen you underground for years." The man croaks, shaking his head. "Not since the accident. This is...wow."
Jimin winces, gaze flitting to the ground. "Ah...well-" Get me out of here, please. The air around him dips and swirls, and something sick wells up in his throat. I need to get out-
"We actually have to be somewhere, Wonho." Taehyung interrupts, stepping forward. "Our friends-"
"Are you going to be performing again?" The man cuts Taehyung off as though he never heard him, stepping closer into Jimins space with excitement written across his features. The sound of bone cracking reverberates in Jimins ears, and for a second he's back there, back on the floor amongst the crowd, leg engulfed with pain and eyes burning with tears.
"Everyone misses you, y'know? You're the best dancer we ever ha-"
"Ok we really gotta go." Taehyung snaps then, anger colouring his voice.Wonho goes to speak but Taehyung cuts him off before he has the chance. "Outta the way."
Wonho almost stumbles with the force that Taehyung uses to shove past him. His friends grip is tight around Jimin's wrist as he pulls him past, expression stony as they push through the small crowd of people and onto the other side.
Jimin pushes himself into Taehyung's side, feels his breath sharpen a little as he tries to calm himself down. You're fine, nothing happened, you're fine.
"It's ok, Jimin-ah. You're ok." Taehyung murmurs, voice soft. He rubs a soothing thumb over the skin of Jimins wrist, keeps him close. "He's gone."
Jimin only nods, the lump in his throat making it impossible to speak. Are you going to be performing again?
If he wasn't currently losing it he'd snort. Not a chance.
"Jimin come on, we should get inside." Taehyung urges, gaze still over Jimins shoulder. He looks concerned, eyes flitting to Jimins slightly shaking form before back to the crowd.
Jimin only nods. I just need to get out of here, and now.
That night they find themselves sat in a cluster in Seokjin's little apartment, laughter in abundance as they bond over food and excitement. Hoseok's still shouting over their victory, and Namjoon's watching in mild embarrassment as Jungkook and Taehyung down multiple shots whilst Seokjin attempts to wrestle the bottle of sake off of them both, face red and flustered with exertion.
Yoongi's laying across the sofa, obnoxiously taking up as much space as he can as he alternates between staring up at the ceiling and then back down at his phone, and Jimin.
Jimin's nestled up in one of Seokjin's armchairs, having practically collapsed onto the thing the moment they'd finished eating. Seokjin had thrown a blanket at him, concern flitting over his features ever since Taehyung had hurriedly whispered what had happened back in the underground. He and Tae kept alternating between casting Jimin both concerned and almost nostalgic glances.
Honestly, Jimin was starting to become tired of it.
If it were months ago Jimin knows he would've been much worse, and so even though he panicked today, he feels a sense of pride at managing to keep it somewhat together.
Though if Taehyung hadn't been there...
It almost makes him laugh, the realisation that it took him this long to be recognised. He'd been pretty good at hiding himself away, at hunching his shoulders and pulling his hood up and pretending to be as far from his old self as possible.
Tonight he slipped up.
He hates how much reminders of his old life hurt.
After recieving another fleeting look of worry from Seokjin, he decides that enough is enough. He needs a breather.
He stands quickly, blanket falling from his form as he ducks out of the room. He finds himself slipping through the double doors leading out onto the balcony, clicking them shut softly behind him and leaning against them for a moment to catch his bearings.
He releases a long, stuttering breath, frigid air seeping into his skin and making him shiver. He really should've worn more than just Taehyung's jumper. The thing's so oversized that it hangs off of one of Jimin's shoulders, the skin of his collarbones exposed to the frosty bite of a winters night.
Absentmindedly he shivers, but can't help but revel in the feeling of life as he takes a step forward and leans against the metal railing. Seokjin's balcony overlooks the city of Seoul,and he finds himself smiling as he takes in the blinking lights of buildings and the travelling flashes of cars as they head home for the night. It's late, though Seoul's lit up like a birthday cake, the night rife with life in a way that has the blood beneath Jimins skin thrumming with electricity.
He tips his head up, lets the wind ruffle his hair a little. It's a nice night. A calm night.
He's almost able to forget earlier completely.
He takes a moment to just breathe, letting the night seep into his bones and the smell of bonfire in the air leave him feeling warm.
Where would I be now? If the accident had not happened?
He thinks that's the worst part of it really, wondering over the what ifs. What if he was still performing? What if he was able to make it big?
What if he wasn't?
He presses his lips together, the ball in his chest shifting. What if I wasn't scared to try again?
He shakes his head. A stupid thought.
He's so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice it at first when the door clicks open behind him. It's only the sound of Jungkooks drunken laughter that seeps out through the open crack that catches Jimins attention. He parts his lips to tell Taehyung that he's coming in in a moment, craning his neck to look over his shoulder-
He sucks in a breath, startled.
Staring back at him, dark eyes narrowed and lips pursed, is none other than Yoongi.
He's still in his leather jacket, pale skin showing through ripped jeans and a dark beanie shoved over his blonde nest of hair. He looks a little sleepy, the nights events having caught up to him, and for a moment Jimin almost expects the man to turn right back around and leave upon noticing him.
What does he want?
Silence passes for a moment, the atmosphere growing with tension that Jimin should be accustomed to by now. With the way that Yoongi's looking at him, he doesn't think he ever will.
Yoongi takes a couple steps outside, and Jimin watches as the man slowly closes the doors behind him, Jungkook and Taehyung's screaming fading into muffled shouts. Like this, they're cut off from the rest.
He thinks about saying something, making some attempt at dispelling the tension but then Yoongi's speaking, pink lips parting and eyes drifting off to the expanse of sky above them.
"I'm curious about something." He states, voice low. Jimin watches as he takes several steps closer, until he's leaning up against the railing beside him. He's still looking anywhere but Jimin, but his question remains in the air, waiting for an answer.
"W-what?" Jimin stammers out, gazing at the man as though he'll disappear any second.
Yoongi's silent for a moment, seemingly mulling the words over in his head, and then he's clasping his hands together, glancing at Jimin before back to the city.
"How do you know Wonho?"
Jimin freezes. He feels his blood drain, that familiar wave of sickness in his chest and the shift in his gut that symbolises panic. For a moment he doesn't really know what to do, how to reply. He grips the railing so hard that his knuckles burn white, bone almost tearing through skin.
How does he know about Wonho? Did he see us?
"I-what?" He stumbles over his words, voice sounding weak, shaky."What do you-"
"I saw you." The man remarks, the picture of ease as he leans against the railing. "I heard-he said that you hadn't been to the underground in years, asked you-"
"Does it matter?" Jimin cuts, face scrunching up. What if I don't want to tell you? What if I don't want to tell anyone?
Yoongi appears taken aback for a moment, turning to look at Jimin properly now."I'm not forcing you to tell me." He eventually murmurs, softer than usual. "I'm just curious. He made it seem like you were a regular there."
Jimin huffs, doesn't know what it is that propels him to answer."I was."
Surprise flashes across the elders features at that. "I thought that night was the first time, the night that we met again..." He trails off towards the end, awkward.
Jimin shakes his head."I was venturing down to the underground before I was even of age." He ignores Yoongi's surprise, moves his gaze to the city lights. "Taehyung and I used to sneak down there alot, watch the performers. We were more into the dance battles though."
He smiles at the memories, something that had always been so pure to them despite it being illegal. He and Taehyung had loved their trips to the underground, hadn't been able to get enough of almost being caught and the pure life exuded from the dancers up on stage. It'd been a highlight of his teen years, something that made him want to live a bit more.
"Didn't have you pegged as a law breaker." Yoongi remarks, gaze still on the side of face. Jimin smirks, feels that mischievious glint flash behind his eyes as he trains them on Yoongi.
"I'm not as good as you seem to think, hyung."
Maybe there's an underlying tease to his words, and maybe he doesn't say anything when he notices the tips of Yoongi's ears burning red.
"He said something though." The elder finally stutters, swallowing."Something I wasn't expecting."
Jimin cocks a brow."Hm?"
"He...he asked if you were going to perform again."
He doesn't know why, doesn't know what it is that possesses him to suddenly want to tell Yoongi all about him, about his truth, but the feeling is strong, buzzes beneath his skin and zips through his bloodstream unnaturally fast and strong.
He sucks in a breath, feeling a little lightheaded.
I want him to know me.
When he next speaks, his words are weighed down with his past, heavy amongst the lightness of the night.
"Because I used to."
For the next minute or so there's silence, the air between them both stretching out before them, vast and unreadable. The atmosphere is tinged with a weight, with something heated and almost painful.
"Dance?" Yoongi asks, voice a whisper, as though he's frightened of speaking too loudly.
Jimin nods."Street dance, contemporary, hip hop." He lists."My style was a blend, though my specialty used to be contemporary. At some point sneaking down with Tae to watch them perform became sneaking down with Tae to perform. It was a thrill unlike any other for me, who lived life according to rules and regulations above. I loved dance." He sighs, the sound drawn out.
"I wasn't bad either. Had my own fanbase and everything." He tilts his head, eyeing the moon above them.
"Why did you stop?"
Jimin sucks in a breath, prepared for the question yet not. He exhales, turning to look at Yoongi. The elder's already watching him, those eyes piercing as though he's trying to work him out.
"An accident." He finally says, voice surprisingly strong. Something flickers behind Yoongi's eyes, a change.
"During one of my performances someone cast a Jinx. I fell during a flip, landed the wrong way and broke my leg in two places." He gulps, the sound audible. "It took me ages to recover, even with Seokjin and Taehyung healing me at regular intervals. Even so, my leg made a full recovery due to magic. My mind though? Not so much."
"I can't even stomach the thought of dancing again." Jimin cuts the man off, already knowing what he's going to say. You should try again.
He's heard it before, from the majority of his friends in fact.
They don't seem to understand. He can't.
"After the accident I avoided the underground for two years, put all of my attention into training to become a fully fledged healer. It's the only thing that saved me, after all. Coming here the night of your performance....that was tough."
Jimin looks up sharply at the words, lips parted and eyes wide. Did Yoongi just say...sorry?
He frowns, tilts his head to the side in question. "What for?"
The blonde looks almost ashamed of himself, hands clasped tightly together and his lips pulled into a pout. He shakes his head. "You just went through alot hm? I can't imagine the pain, both physical and mental. I'm sorry that you lost something so important to you, and...well, I apologise for not treating you very fairly."
"It's fine now." Jimin murmurs, shivering a little. "It's in the past." All of it.
"Still." Yoongi frowns. He looks at Jimin properly this time, lashes fluttering as his gaze burns directly into Jimins. A small smile quirks at his lips then, genuine. "You're rather brave, Jimin-ah, aren't you?"
Jimin ignores the blush currently flushing at his cheeks, know's he'll be a bright, rosy pink in a matter of seconds. He feels hot all over, his chest squeezing with something that has his heart stumbling a little behind his ribcage.
"Don't argue, brat." The elder remarks. Jimin opens his mouth to playfully protest only to have a warm, heavy material suddenly thrown around his shoulders. It takes him a moment to realise that it's Yoongi's leather jacket, and he balks, almost close to passing out because god does it smell good, just like Yoongi and-
"I don't know why you thought it'd be a good idea to walk around with your body half exposed." The elder snaps, line between his brows. Jimin's skin erupts into goosebumps when Yoongi's fingers skim across his collarbones. The man seems to almost linger for a moment, the pad of his thumb swiping across the skin of Jimins neck before he's pulling away. His gaze remains however, and Jimin shivers this time for an entirely different reason.
(Don't lose it now Jimin, Taehyung will take the piss forever if you make a fool of yourself.)
"Uh, you don't have to-"
"Shutup." Yoongi breathes. When he pulls away the tips of his cheeks are pink, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. "Just wear it, before I drag you back inside to put something warmer on."
Jimin laughs, the sound quiet and breathy, and feels something inside lurch when Yoongi's smile broadens in response.
"Thankyou then." He whispers the words as though they'll break the moment if he's any louder.
Yoongi shrugs, attempting to appear the picture of nonchelance.(And failing, in Jimins opinion.) "Wear normal clothes next time."
Jimin snorts."You don't like my clothes?" He teases. He knows he's probably overstepping the thin line between them a little, but something about Yoongi's expression makes it hard not to. Not when he's just opened up about something so important and recieved such kind words back.
The elders gaze travels down his body as though on instinct, lingering on the way his jeans stretch over his thighs, faint plains of muscle peeking through the ripped fabric. Something in him internally shudders, heat creeping up his neck and that buzzing back, incessant beneath his skin.
"Uh." Yoongi eventually says, rather eloquently.
Jimin grins, unable to keep it at bay. When he leans a little closer to Yoongi, he's not even sure that he's really in control of his body anymore. "Don't be mean,hyung. Taehyung picked these out for me." He croons. It's the truth,really, Taehyung had a habit (especially just lately) of forcing Jimin into clothes of his choice.
The dark recesses of his mind scream at him, ask what he's doing, but for once, he ignores them. Just this once.
"Of course he did." Yoongi remarks, dryly. There's something heated about it, something telling about the way the man sneers, glares through the door to where they can still hear Taehyung's muffled laughter as though it's offended him.
Jimin almost breaks down and combusts on the spot because Is he....jealous? He sure looks it.
"Aw hyung, don't tell me you're jealous." He finds himself singing, smile still stretched across his face. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath, eyes narrowing as they flit back to Jimin.
"Yah, why would I-"
Later tonight Jimin's sure he'll look back on this moment and cringe, then start to plan ways in which to run off to Canada or something from the shame, but for now, he can barely stop himself from wanting to play the game, just once. In the back of his mind he faintly recognises the sound of Taehyung cheering him on as he parts his lips, ready to deliver the blow.
"You wanna dress me instead?" He asks, voice low.
The reaction is instantaneous, Yoongis pupils shining onyx. The man appears frozen for a long minute, palms locked together and cheeks still dark as he continues to stare at Jimin from under his lashes.
"You're playing a dangerous game, park Jimin." He murmurs, the low timbre of his voice sending a shockwave through Jimin.
This time it's Jimins turn to flush. He vaguely registers that he's burning up incredibly fast, the feeling of Yoongi's jacket hot and heavy around his shoulders.
Yoongi's standing close, almost too close now, warm breath fanning out across Jimins skin. His eyes are lidded, molten lava spilt amongst the irises.
He cocks his head, eyes dancing down to Jimins lips, then back up. "Jimin-"
"What's taking you guy's so long-oh." The door flies open with an unhealthy groan behind them, and Jimin doesn't think he's ever moved as fast as he does when he stumbles back from Yoongi, catching himself on the railing. If he hadn't been holding onto it he would've fallen over the strategically placed plant pot behind him. Yoongi practically chokes on his own spit as he lets out a gasp, reeling back from Jimin as though he's an explosion waiting to happen. A faint curse falls from his lips, unstable and gruff.
"Um, sorry." Hoseok stutters, frozen in place. He's still half inside of the apartment, realisation dawning across his features as he looks between Yoongi and Jimin with wide, imploring eyes.
"Did I interrupt something?"
Only my impending demise. Jimin thinks, throat suddenly tight. He parts his mouth to say something, anything that'll be enough to defend himself, make it seem as though he wasn't just openly flirting with the man he's supposed to hate, but fortunately (or unfortunately) said man gets there first.
"Not at all." Yoongi quips, voice rougher than usual. The blonde shakes the chill of the night off, starts to head towards the door. "Just mindless chatter."
Jimin merely gawks, watching as Hoseok extends him one last long, almost sympathetic look before he's sighing and dipping back inside. The wind rattles around Jimin, tears through his hair.
Yoongi pauses, hand gripping the door handle so tight that his knuckles burn white.When he glances over his shoulder Jimin notes pink cheeks, and resists the urge to squirm.
"Your jacket." He almost swallows the words in his haste to get them out, before he's moving to yank the fabric off (gently though, he's grateful after all). Before he can get it all of the way off Yoongi's shaking his head, eyes lidded as he parts his lips.
Jimin stutters in his movements, perplexed. "Um-"
He can only watch in pure, unfiltered shock as the corner of Yoongi's lips suddenly quirk into a smile, eyes narrowing. In that moment he looks the most confident he has all night, an air of smugness radiating from him as he watches Jimin.
"Suit's you." He murmurs.
He's slipping inside and clicking the door shut before Jimin even has the chance to flush all over again at his words.
Instead he leans back against the railing, breath coming impossibly fast and palms sweating. He brings them to cover his burning cheeks, eyes slipping shut.
"Oh my god."
Things uravel startlingly fast the night that Namjoon turns up cradling an unconcious, wounded Yoongi in his arms.
The Auror arrives in the usual flurry of light and explosion of sound, this time only several of the potion phials shattering as he lands almost in a heap on the tiled floor, body sagging and hair matted in his face. He looks up with wide, terrified eyes and Jimin almost falls off of his stool in his hurry to stand.
He cuts himself off when his gaze flits to the man cradled in his friends arms, and he immediately feels his world dip and swirl at the sight of Yoongi. He's completely unconcious, weight supported entirely by a breathless Namjoon, though that's not what startles Jimin, no.
It's the huge gash ripped into the side of Yoongi's stomach, thick, crimson blood blooming through his torn white shirt, and the just as terrifying wound near his temple. He's covered in other, minor scratches and bruises, and Jimin feels his stomach twist-
"Jimin." Namjoon breathes, the sound desperate. He looks helpless, real fear for the first time etched onto the elders features. Jimin snaps out of whatever shock fueled daze he's in and practically vaults over the counter, his blood roaring in his ears as he grabs Yoongi's other side and carefully helps Namjoon guide him to the back room.
"What fucking happened?!" He's shouting but he can't find it in him not to. He can feel all semblance of control slipping, his heart threatening it's way past layers of bone and skin, and just the smell of Yoongi's blood is enough to make him feel physically sick.
"It-it's not a hex!" Namjoon cries, helping Jimin deposit the unconcious man on the bed. Yoongi's far too pale, paler than usual, and Jimin feels his chest tighten at the sight of clotted blood matted in the mans hair, horrifically striking against the blonde.
"He was performing in the centre, I told him not to!" Namjoon continues to ramble, stepping back on shaky legs and clutching at his hair. There's blood on his hands, but it goes unnoticed as his attention remains on his fallen friend.
"I told him not to go but he didn't listen, and the fucking Wizarding patrol- they caught him, chased him down and-god, Jimin, I told him not to fucking go-"
"What did they do to him, Namjoon?" Jimin cuts the man off, panic causing him to snap. From the looks of it Yoongi's recieved some pretty brutal treatment, but if it's been done by magic he'll need much more than simple medicine and equipment.
The blonde stutters, completely lost, and Jimin curses."Namjoon, come on. What happened?"
"They used weapons, not wands." The other man rattles, skin pale and distress rolling off of him in waves. "Will-Is he ok?"
Jimin starts to hike Yoongi's shirt up, avoiding the head wound for now, and nearly passes out at the sight of the man's torso. It looks like he's been hit with something sharp, a tight, thick line extending from the top of his ribcage to the bottom. Dried and crusted blood sticks to the surrounding skin, and Jimin suppresses the urge to let out a whimper at the sight of the man beneath him.
He grits his teeth, reels back to start grabbing the things he needs because he's not about to loiter and let Yoongi lose even more blood than he has. He can't let personal feelings get in the way, not now when Yoongi's lifes bleeding out right before him. He turns, glances over his shoulder to Namjoon.
"Lock up the shop, don't let anyone in. Then sit down, you look like you're about to faint."
He clenches his jaw when Namjoon starts to protest, shoots the man a warning look over his shoulder. The blonde seems to get it because he nods stiffly, almost shooting out of the doorway and down the hall.
When Jimin turns back to Yoongi his chest only tightens more, and he presses his lips together to hold back something akin to a sob. After, Jimin.
He prepares himself to work the power out of his limbs, already feels the familiar heat building up as he grabs the right phials and clean cloths.
He ignores the pounding of his heart as he reels on Yoongi, and the shaking of his hands as he presses them to bare, lukewarm skin.
You can do it,
just like all of the other times.
By the time that Yoongi wakes up, Jimin's tending to his head wound, brows furrowed and exhaustion creeping into his frame as he focuses on the task at hand. He doesn't even realise that Yoongi's conscious at first, far too invested in cleaning around the edges of Yoongi's wound before he gets to work healing it. He's worried about it, used to being told that head wounds are always a worry due to the possible impact they can have on the brain. He almost regrets not seeing to it first, but Yoongi had been losing a lot of blood from his abdomen, and he couldn't let that fester.
He'd spent two hours healing the gash on his side, his whole body on fire as he worked over Yoongi, unwavering even for a second. He'd kept any personal thoughts out of it, well, had tried to, but every few minutes the panic had crept up once more, making a home in his chest and rendering him almost paralysed from the fear of it. He couldn't lose Yoongi, the world couldn't.
He swallows again, ignores the tears prickling at his eyes as he swabs once more at the cut. He'll be fine, his breathing has returned to normal.
And it's true. Jimin's a good healer, knows it, and the sight of Yoongi's chest falling at an even pace now as opposed to the earlier erratic rattling is enough to have his muscles relaxing a little. It's a good sign, as is the sight of the colour spreading back across his skin. It's a slow process, but it's positive nonetheless.
It's when he reaches for the side table to throw away the swabs that a hand, warm yet weak, reaches out to grasp his wrist.
He startles, heart jumping and a sharp, breathless squeak falling from his lips, and whips his head back around to find Yoongi staring at him through lidded eyes.
"Yoongi!" He exclaims, eyes widening. "Y-you're awake."
The elder looks exhausted, dark circles already pitching up beneath his eyes, but nonetheless, he attempts to tighten his grip on Jimins wrist, fingers shaking and crusted with dried blood. He winces when he tries to shift, a short, faint whimper spilling from his lips, and Jimins quick to quiet him, voice soothing as he leans in closer.
They stare at eachother for a moment, tension thickening in the air around them, and suddenly now that Yoongi's awake all Jimin can think about is how angry he is that Yoongi ended up like this, how downright terrified and sickened he is that the elder almost lost his life doing street tricks.
And that anger is exactly what prompts him to stare right into Yoongi's eyes as he parts his lips and grits out, "You're a fool, Min Yoongi."
Silence follows, the ire of his words stretched across the room, and Jimin thinks he see's Yoongi's lidded eyes widen a fraction, confusion and shock unmistakably flitting behind them as he gazes back at Jimin.
He parts his lips a few times, attempting to reply in some manner, and Jimin shakes his head, quick to dismiss him."No, shut up for now. You can talk after I've finished healing up this wound." He shoots the elder another ill look, before he's shifting to place a palm to his head, thumb grazing just centimetres from the wound site.
He seeths as he works, faint curses spilling from his lips in an almost indistinguishable string. He can't grasp it, how Yoongi would be so stupid as to try and perform at night.
He dislikes how angry he suddenly is, but now that Yoongi's awake he can't help it,can't help but feel the rage that hadn't been there when he thought that Yoongi was going to die.
He works tirelessly, feels the energy drain from him as he watches the cut mend itself. It's thankfully not too deep, doesn't look half as bad now that it's not encrusted in a pool of red. He registers Yoongi grunting, whimpering a little every few minutes, though ignores it in favour of focusing on his task. It's his own fault.
He ignores the man the first time he speaks, finds that he can't quite muster the energy or the will to look him in the eyes yet.
It's louder this time, pleading, and so Jimin forces himself to glance, only for a second. Yoongi's eyes are wider now, the man appearing a little more coherant as he gazes up at him, lips parted. His expression is strained, helpless, and Jimin can't stomach it.
He looks away.
I can't do this, leave me alone-
"Seriously." The man breathes, his voice almost inaudible.
His hands are shaking, and once again his bloods roaring in his ears, the sound overwhelming and-
The same pale, cold hand from earlier reaches out, pulls his hand away from the partially healed head. Before Jimin has a chance to protest there's long fingers linking between his, the weak hold tightening a fraction and tugging, tugging until Jimin has no option but to look-
What he finds brings him a step closer to losing it.
Yoongi looks so small on the bed, shirt discarded and torso still red from Jimins healing. A thin sheen of sweat coats the mans skin, casts him in an unhealthy pallor.
Yoongi's shaking slightly, perhaps due to shock or cold, and Jimin slowly lets his gaze travel from the elders chest, to soft, pink lips, and then obsidian, narrowed eyes.The blondes already watching him carefully, unblinking. He appears regretful, almost sorry as he cradles Jimins hand to his chest, just close enough to his heart for Jimin to feel it's beat against the back of his hand.
"I almost die..." He starts, expression pained. "And-and the first thing you greet me with....is, you're a fool."
Jimin presses his lips together, drags his gaze away because he can't do this, it's ridiculous-
"Why are you crying?" The man murmurs, voice low, weak still. His face twists into a grimace of sorts, gaze tracking down from Jimins eyes to his cheeks.
I didn't even realise.
He raises his free hand to his cheek, swipes at the skin halfheartedly. "I'm not crying, you're just an idiot."
The elder frowns, though for a moment something akin to amusement flickers behind that gaze, and Jimin hates him for it, hates how he can take situations like this so easily.
Your life isn't a joke, Yoongi.
"I need to finish healing-" He makes a move to tug his hand from Yoongi's grasp, though the elder only tightens his hold. It's still not enough to stop Jimin from extracting himself, but he gets the message. Don't let go.
The wound's almost fully healed, the new skin there rather pink and fresh. He just needs to seal it, complete the process, though it should hold up well enough for now. Not for the first time tonight, he's thankful there's no brain damage.
The words leave Yoongis mouth in a flurry, syllables tangled together. Jimin understands well enough what he means though, his heart cracking a little at the genuinity of his voice. He really means it.
"What for?" Jimin whispers, frightened that if he speaks any louder his voice will break.
"...For acting like an idiot." Yoongi whispers back."For treating you like shit.....for making you cry."
Jimin gets the impression that he's not just talking about tonight, and he feels the crack in his heart widen, split further until he's a breathless mess.
"I won't do it again." The man breathes, lashes fluttering. He winces when he shifts just a little, expression pained.
Jimin wonders which one of those things he's talking about. Hopefully all of them.
"You're lucky that Namjoon found you in time." Jimin murmurs, softer this time. He despises how vulnerable Yoongi looks right now, hates that he's done this to himself.
A part of him disagree's, barks at him that Yoongi's only performing, merely expressing himself. He doesn't know what side to take anymore, even if there should be sides.
The blondes eyes widen a fraction. "Where is he?" He casts a worried look over Jimins shoulder, as though expecting to find his friend there.
"I sent him to rest in the back room, he was frantic when he arrived. The exhaustion must've gotten to him as he's passed out in the other room. I'll send for Seokjin to come collect him once I've finished with you."
Yoongi frowns again, guilt overtaking his features. He looks as though he's about to apologise all over again, but Jimin gets there first, cutting him off.
"Let me finish with your head, alright? Once I've checked your vitals you'll have to drink the replenishing potion to regain all of the nutrients you lost when you bled out."
Yoongi grimaces, but nods, reluctantly disentangling his and Jimins hands. Jimin takes the opportunity to shift so that he's sitting on the bed by Yoongi's torso, ignoring the elders weighted gaze as he presses his palm back to his forehead and exhales, long and shaky. He's really tired, can feel the last remnants of energy slipping as he works, but he's not the type to leave a job unfinished.
Yoongi's warmth radiates towards him, and his eyes slip closed so that he can focus properly. He feels the mans skin reform beneath his fingertips, feels life starting to thread itself back into Yoongi's body, restoring alot of what he lost. He'll be tired and shaky for the next few days, something magic can't fix, but he'll live, and that's what matters.
As he finishes up, he peels his eyes open, only to find Yoongi's still on him. He's watching Jimin with something new, something almost reverant. The sincerity of it's softness has Jimin stuttering in his movements a little, his pulse quickening as he looks away.
He clears his throat, hopes his voice doesn't sound too shaky as he speaks. "That's it. The minor cuts on your face and body automatically healed along with the larger once. You'll still feel a little bruised for a few days, as well as fatigued, but you're in a much better position than you were when you crash landed in here."
He frets over the blood in Yoongi's hair, busies himself with brushing it from the mans eyes as he attempts to return anything but that heavy, unwavering gaze. "You should drink that potion though, my healing attempts only go so far after all, I'm no expert like the greats or-" He doesn't realise that he's starting ro ramble until Yoongi's pulling his hand away, movements decidedly stronger. He's moving slow still, unsurprisingly, though when Jimin finally meets his eyes the pure life behind them is heart stopping.
His healing must've done alot more than he thought.
"Jimin-ah." Yoongi breathes, head cocked to the side as though in question. "You worry alot."
"Yah, only about you." Jimin snaps before he can stop himself. Yoongi's eyes widen and Jimin feels his heart promptly short circuit, his own eyes growing round with alarm as he tries to save himself.
"W-wait, no! I mean, you're always hurting yourself so-"
He's cut off by a gruff, short laugh. Yoongi winces as the pain flares, but otherwise remains amused as he stares up at Jimin, hands still entangled tightly. Jimin flushes down to his collarbones, feels his lips work their way into a pout as he internally wishes for the floor to swallow him up.
Why do you always talk without thinking? Great, he's going to tell everyone-
"Would it be bad if I said I liked it?"
His internal monalogue is cut off by that, and confusion sweeps across his features, swallowing hard."W-what?"
Yoongi shrugs, glancing away and down at the bed. "I- You worrying about me....would it be bad if I said I liked it?"
Jimin stares at him for a moment, cheeks burning and jaw slack. "You...you mean.." What the hell is going on?
"You know what I mean, Jimin-ah." He states, voice growing strained. When Jimin takes a closer look he's surprised to see the tips of the mans ears growing red. Something in him jostles, and he gnaws on his bottom lip, lost for words.
He wants me to worry about him?
Realisation dawns on him, and his throat tightens with such implications. He looks down at where they're holding hands, feels his stomach flip.
Yoongi sighs, the sound exhausted and drawn out. "I'm not very good at this." He murmurs.
Jimin cocks a brow."You-"
Suddenly Yoongi's shifting, a faint grunt spilling from his lips as he sits up until he's level with Jimin, so close that their noses almost brush. Jimin goes to protest though he ignores it, gritting his teeth as he rights himself and looks into Jimins eyes. Jimin sucks in a breath, startled, and feels pink bloom across his cheeks because he's so close, too close-
"Yoongi, you're exhausted-"
The blonde breathes out, warmth fanning across Jimins face. "I was really embarrassed, that first night, you know. The night that I shoved you. I didn't mean to." He presses, brows furrowing."I just reacted on instinct. I suppose that I didn't want the pretty boy I met earlier to see me so vulnerable." He remarks.
Jimin exhales rather sharply.Pretty boy? "Yoongi, we already talked about this-"
"I think feeling embarrassed infront of you is a bit of a running theme though." Yoongi cuts him off, the rough timbre of his voice almost intoxicating. Jimin squirms a little, hates how lightheaded he feels.
"What are you trying to say..." He mumbles, unable to look away.I embarrass him? I'm nowhere near as bad as Taehyung, or Seokjin-
Up this close Jimin can see how blooshot Yoongi's eyes are, the faint red of the stains the blood had left behind on his skin. He's studying Jimin so carefully though, his expression so gentle that Jimin can't help but shiver beneath it.
Not for the first time, he finds himself thinking about how beautiful Min Yoongi is.
Suddenly there's a burst of warmth beneath the palm of his hand. He jolts, head whipping down towards the hand that's still being clasped by Yoongi's.
The warmth flares up for a moment, almost painfully hot,golden light spilling from between the cracks in their fingers, and then it's gone. Remnants of the warmth remain behind and Jimins brows draw together, baffled.
Slowly, Yoongi moves the hand that's ontop of Jimin's out of the way. A part of Jimin wants to whine at the loss of contact, but it's replaced with complete shock as what the hand leaves behind comes into view.
There, sitting daintily atop the warm palm of Jimins hand, sits a flower.
It's fresh, deep rosy petals that look as though they've just bloomed. It sits proudly in his hand, emitting this soft, comforting energy that has Jimin releasing a long, heaving breath.
He's suddenly reminded of snow and fire, of excited cheers and a smug smirk and pink, rosy flower petals raining down on him, that familiar onyx gaze directed at him for the first time as he-
When he looks back up, Yoongi's smiling.
"When we first met I told you that I couldn't always control it." He breathes, gaze unwavering."...That was a lie."
It's a fond smile, wrapped up in warmth and amusement and hope. He's looking at Jimin like he's the magic, not the flower resting in his open palm. The look renders Jimin speechless, his mind reeling and liquid adrenaline shooting through his bloodstream. The familiar buzzing that he always gets when he's around Yoongi reappears, intensifies, and he wants to laugh because he gets it, what Yoongi's trying to say.
He gets it.
He doesn't know who shifts first really, doesn't know which one of them closes the gap, but suddenly Yoongi's lips are capturing his, and Jimin's surrendering, blood roaring in his ears as he lets Yoongi give, taking in return.
Liquid fire rolls through his veins, his whole body lighting up as Yoongi runs his tongue along his lower lip and nips at the skin. Jimin gasps, hands flying up to rest against the elders chest, palm against the erratic beat of his heart. He feels his composure slip, Yoongi's lashes fluttering against his skin as he tilts his head and takes him deeper, lips parting to let him in.
Yoongi's hands are everywhere, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. They fall to Jimins sides, fingertips pressing into the bare skin where his shirt rides up. The touch elicits electricity, causes Jimin to jolt, whimper against Yoongi's lips as the elder licks into his mouth.
He shivers, shifting so that he's almost in Yoongi's lap. The elation coursing through his veins is contagious, must be beacause he can feel Yoongi smiling against his lips, nails biting into the skin of Jimin's waist as he breaks away to press kisses to the smooth planes of his jaw. A strangled whimper escapes Jimins throat, and he melts against Yoongi when the elder drags his teeth along the skin of his neck, right down to his collarbones.
The blonde sighs against his skin, moving to press a couple kisses to Jimins lips again, before he's slowly pulling away, eyes heavily lidded and cheeks flushed with exertion and something else, something heavier.
"You're beautiful." He whispers, voice thick with something Jimin can't place. He tilts his head, swipes a thumb along Jimins jawline. His touch is soothing, lights something warm in the pit of Jimins gut.
Jimin attempts to regain his breathing, and when he brings his fingers to his lips he's almost embarrassed to find them spit slicked and swollen. He glances up at Yoongi from under his lashes, feels his heart kick erratically.
I just kissed Yoongi.
He sucks in a breath, unsteady, and parts his lips in an attempt to think of something to say. "Tell me that that wasn't a dream." Is what comes out eventually, and he feels Yoongi still, before releasing a breathless chuckle, the sound reverberating across the room.
When Jimin shoots him an embarrassed glance he feels his insides melt a little more at the large, gummy smile adorning the blondes face. He leans in closer, presses their foreheads together.
"If I wasn't so exhausted after almost dying right now I'd kiss you again."
Jimin whines in response, ducking his head to tuck it into Yoongi's shoulder. Part of him feels flustered over being so close to a shirtless Yoongi, but the other , bigger part of him refuses to part from the elder, atleast not for now.
"Sorry." He whispers, lips grazing Yoongi's skin. The blonde shudders at the contact, and Jimin resists the urge to smirk. "I should have waited."
"Well I couldn't." The elder replies, hands still wrapped around Jimins waist. "I've been thinking about doing that ever since the day we met."
Jimin sits up, brows cocked."No way."
"There's no way you-"
"Jimin, I made petals rain down on you in the middle of the street. Do you really think that I, Min Yoongi, would risk anyone from the underground scene, or even worse, my friends, catching me do that?"
Jimin gnaws at his lip, resists the urge to bury his face in Yoongi's shoulder again. Eventually he shakes his head,scrubbing at his face with his hands. "I can't believe you...That's so embarrassing hyung."
Yoongi snorts, the sound almost welcomed after the sight of him earlier. "Tell me about it. Everytime I saw you after that I had to resist the urge to conjure up little flowers in your coat pockets or behind your ears. It was a living nightmare."
Jimin laughs, head slung back and eyes squeezing shut. "You're ridiculous."
Yoongi only watches him, smile stupidly lopsided. He swallows, adams apple bobbing, and lets Jimin trace the skin of his jaw with a finger.
"I..." His voice breaks a little, and something shy overtakes the elder as he starts to speak. "I really, quite like you, Park Jimin. Despite everything."
Jimin ignores the wave of emotion threatening to erupt, ignores the tightness in his chest and the flipping of his stomach as he sucks in a shuddering breath and feels an answering smile of relief and elation tug at his lips.
"I like you rather alot too.Even if you do cause me so much trouble."
They stay like that for a while longer, Jimin pressed against Yoongi's chest and the elders lips pressed to his hairline. They murmur amongst themselves, tease one another over erratic heartbeats and flushed cheeks until Yoongi's too exhausted to stay upright. Jimin feels a little guilty as he hops off of the bed and helps Yoongi settle down, finding a blanket in the cupboard and draping it over the other mans body.
Yoongi doesn't let him leave, not even to check on Namjoon, and so he's promptly dragged into the bed alongside the blonde, finds himself pressed against the wall, Yoongi on the outside, and a warm, pale arm draped over his waist. Honestly, any other time and Jimin would complain about how quick it all suddenly happened, but then he thinks of the circumstances, and of the way he and Yoongi have been dancing around one another for months, and thinks that right now, the way that they are is perfect.
He drifts off to the sound of Yoongi's breathing, the exhaustion of healing (and Yoongi) finally claiming him after the adrenaline of Yoongi's kiss.
Jimin doesn't recall the events of the following day, remaining practically unconcious for most of it as his body fights to repair itself. The only times he does wake, are rare, small grasps of coherance that last for seconds at a time. A couple times he's able to make sense of Seokjin or Taehyung's voices, garbled and rife with concern and far too close to his ears, and just once he think's he hears the low, unmistakable timbre of a certain blonde illusionist from somewhere to his left.
His eyes refuse to open, and so he remains heavy lidded and disoriented for brief spites of time before slipping back into slumber, his limbs weighted and aching, and ears ringing.
One thing that does remain though, is the familiar pressure attached to his hand. It's warm, grounds him in a way that the voices do not. He holds onto whatever it is like a lifeline until he's pulled back under by the waves once more.
He doesn't properly wake until the early hours of the next morning, his room shrouded in four am darkness, the isolated, inpenetrable kind that only winter brings. He opens his eyes with a little effort, barely makes sense of the layout due to the darkness and his uncertainty, and blinks several times in order to ward off the threat of any more sleep. (Surely this much is unhealthy.) His body is still achy and numb, but he's able to actually shift his neck a little in an attempt to peer through the curtain of darkness and gage just what's going on.
He's only just able to make out that there's some kind of mass to is left, unmoving but very much alive. He immediately acknowledges that it must be Taehyung, his friend having stayed by his side to keep up to date on his condition like he always has. The pressure in his hand is explained now, though as he clenches his fingers slightly to test it he can't help but note that the fingers certainly don't feel like Taehyungs.
He frowns, then puts it down to his disorientation.
He hasn't passed out this badly whilst healing ever since he was first training, the technicals and physicals of the subject far too taxing for an inexperienced learner. His energy comes back to him in slow bursts, his body warm with the effort it's making to get him back to what he was.
He tries to swallow, though his throat constricts painfully, dry and cracked from having laid unconcious for who knows how long. Unfortunately the realisation and the strain on it causes a sputtered whimper to escape his lips, and before he knows it the mass breathing rather shallowly to his left is shooting up, a sharp gasp leaving their lips as they almost stumble back and off of the chair that's been dragged to Jimins bedside.
Jimin catches the mass shift in the darkness, though can't for the life of him make out it's features as it shifts forward, hand tightening around Jimins and breath hot on his face.
Jimin's lost for a moment, mind still a little foggy, but as the hand squeezes his again, persistant, he slowly comes to the realisation that no, that's not Taehyung, in fact, it's Min Yoongi.
Pain bursts behind his eyelids as flashes of the night before scream in protest. Namjoon turning up at the shop, cradling a bleeding, unconscious Yoongi in his arms, Jimin trying not to panic as he gathers the necessary supplies to heal the elder, his heart in his throat as Yoongi wakes, forces him to talk. When the memory of their kiss flickers behind his irises he gasps, body erupting and his breath trapped in his throat.
"Y-" He tries to speak but his dry throat protests, and he can't do much more other than surge forward, coughs wracking his frame and eyes tearing up. Yoongi moves quickly, leaning over Jimin to snap the light perched upon his beside table on, and the room erupts into dim, orange light.
Jimin's immediately greeted with the concerned, exhausted face of Min Yoongi, the elder man grabbing the small glass of water by his bed and shifting to place a hand on Jimin's back and hold the glass to his lips.
Jimin forces himself to drink, insides squeezing and throat surrendering as he practically downs the whole glass, almost choking twice. He tries to breathe, chest heaving and sweat starting to form along his brow as he rights himself. He eyes Yoongi, bringing his hand to his chest as though to hold his heart in place.
Yoongi's watching him carefully, eyes wide and lips parted in what appears to be shock. He leans forward, grasps for Jimins hand so he can thread their fingers together."You're awake."
"You- we slept in the shop, and the next morning when I woke I tried to wake you, but-but you wouldn't. You wouldn't wake and I was terrified, Jimin-ah. I called Seokjin and he said-"
Jimin silences the elder by squeezing his hand a little too tight, his heart skittering a little in his chest when Yoongi's concern morphs into downright sadness.
"You didn't wake up...Jimin-ah." He whispers, voice cracking slightly.
Jimin almost wilts under his gaze, guilt thrumming beneath his skin despite it not being his fault. He shakes his head, tries to will his voice to work.
"It..it's normal." He croaks out, deciding that the static sound of it is better than nothing.
"Yeah, Taehyung said so." The elder sighs, guilt washing over his features now."It's my fault, if you hadn't had to heal me-"
Jimin grits his teeth, shaking his head more vehemenantly. He can't let Yoongi feel guilty for this, won't. "I don't regret it, Yoongi." He more so whispers than speaks, throat feeling raw. "I won't."
The blonde quiets, watches him through wide, glazed eyes. His gaze drops to Yoongi's lips unnecessarily, and he feels his face colour slightly. Now is not the time, Jimin.
He can't help it though, can't not think about how soft Yoongi's lips had felt against his, how right. His stomach flutters, and he pushes the thoughts away.
For a moment he's worried that he's said the wrong thing, gone too far (despite Yoongi kissing him previously), but before he has the chance to part his lips and try to save himself Yoongi's scooting closer, raising a hand to brush a lock of Jimins hair back from his head.
"Thankyou for saving my life, Park Jimin."
Despite his exhaustion, Jimin manages a smile. Yoongi smiles back, just a hint of something genuine as he shifts to press his forehead up against Jimins.
Thankyou for changing mine. Jimin thinks about saying, though decides to keep to himself for now.
"Just...just don't do it again, alright? I don't think I could bare it." The blonde presses, softly. He's serious though, voice wavering as he speaks.
Jimin would roll his eyes if he had the will. "I can't make any promises." I've come to realise that I'll always look after you.
Yoongi scoffs, but leaves it be for now, simply taking a moment to assess Jimin, lashes fluttering as obsidian eyes take him in.
"How are you feeling?" He whispers eventually, the sound soothing.
Jimin hums, mentally notes how dead his voice sounds. "Tired. Weak....but happy." He smiles wider around the last part, squeezing Yoongi's hand tighter.
The last word catches his voice, and something flickers behind Yoongi's eyes, the elders lips tilting up even further.
"You're impossible, Park Jimin." He manages, a shy smile parting his lips.
This time Jimin actually manages a choked up laugh, unable to help it. He gazes at Yoongi, lets the memories of their kiss wash over him. He feels a little lightheaded, but he's not sure if it's to do with his condition or Yoongi's smile, and so he discards the realisation for now.
"I'm so glad you're awake." Yoongi breathes, warm breath fanning across Jimins nose."You have no idea how much you scared me, you brat."
Jimin would protest if he had the energy. Instead, he moves so that he can press his head into Yoongi's neck, muffle himself against the skin as he hides a smile. A hand rakes through his hair, slow and soothing, and Jimin almost drops back into slumber right then and there.
"You should sleep." Yoongi eventually whispers, breath tickling Jimins ear. Jimin frowns against his skin, suddenly not so eager to leave Yoongi behind.
"Stay with me." He whines, scooting back a little to make space. His limbs scream in protest though he ignores them, instead gazing up at Yoongi with knitted brows expectantly.
Yoongi seems to hesitate, eyes flickering between Jimin and the bed. Jimin doesn't realise that he's pouting until the elders expression softens, a soft curse leaving his lips as he slips into the bed. Jimin almost laughs again at how easily the man's swayed, but then Yoongi's pressing up against his back and wrapping an arm around his waist, breath ghosting his neck as he buries himself against Jimin.
Why does this feel so right?
Jimin sucks in a breath, shivers erupting up his spine, and tries to quell the harsh beat of his heart. He feels Yoongi smirk against his skin when he realises his effect, and almost rolls his eyes because of course, he'd chose now to act smug.
"Don't worry, Jimin-ah, I'll keep my hands to myself tonigh-"
Jimin cuts him off with a well aimed elbow to the side, unable to wipe the grin off of his face when Yoongi curses, voice like gravel.
Unfortunately he doesn't have the energy to listen to much more, sleep tugging him back under the moment he closes his eyes.
He knows that they still have a lot to discuss, the two of them, still have to talk things out and decide what they want, but it can wait until tomorrow, he's sure.
(If when they wake, Jimin regains control of his limbs and kisses Yoongi senseless, noone else needs to know.)
The screams of the crowd are impossible to mute as he makes his way down the familiar hallway, music pounding in his eardrums and sweat rolling down his temple from the familiar routine of screaming and jumping around. A babbling Taehyung follows behind, voice drowned out by the ringing in Jimins ears as he gently shoulders past small groups of people and heads for the door at the end of the corridor.
He's aching a little from dance practice earlier, (Spending countless nights in the underground had brought the passion back. He's not ready to perform yet, nowhere near, but he's able to move to the music without the revolting need to throw up. ) and he's on fire, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He can't wipe the stupid smile off of his face as a couple passerby's cast him knowing looks and quick pats on the back. One guy in particular laughs through a 'good luck' as he scoots past, and Jimin merely smiles. He won't need it.
He reaches the door at the end of the corridor, not even bothering to knock as he pushes it open and peers inside.
He's greeted with an all too familiar sight, Seokjin shouting obscenities into the phone in the corner, a snickering Jungkook leaning up by the wall and concerned parents Namjoon and Hoseok bent over the sofa at the end of the room, eyes on the figure sitting in the centre, the biggest pout known to man (and wizard) stretching his pretty lips as he stares straight ahead, arms crossed and expression stormy.
Behind Jimin,Taehyung chokes on his spit, unconcealed laughter spilling past his lips. Jimin feels his smirk broaden, fingers already tingling with the promise of magic as he takes in the thick black whiskers on either side of Yoongi's (now pink) nose.
Yoongi's expression darkens when he spot's his boyfriend, though Jimin catches the faint wisps of fondness that the elder reserves only for him.
He cocks a brow, lips curling up as he parts them.
"Somebody call for a healer?"