Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Yoongi glanced at the clock.  

The sun had long since set, only the streetlights bleeding through the windows. The apartment itself was dim, too: their lighting was currently limited to the colorful range of candles Seokjin had set out, all circling the cauldron, and the potion inside glowed a deep emerald green. The witch’s shadow kept falling over the display as he circled the cauldron, muttering incantations in a language Yoongi didn’t know to adjust the tiniest details — to move the brew spoon slightly faster, or to lessen the strength of the flame beneath the concoction. His familiars followed his every move, clinging to the rim of the cauldron.  

Apparently, the antidote was not only extremely finicky, but had an obnoxiously lengthy simmer time, something which seemed counterintuitive for a potion that cured a curse that could literally kill someone, but it wasn’t like any of them could control that. He just trusted Seokjin to follow his instincts.  

They were on simmer hour three of seven. It was due to turn half past ten soon — it’d be a long night for Seokjin.  

He glanced at the clock again. They’d left the kids alone a little after 7:30 and hadn’t heard from them since. Not even a peep about being hungry. He’d text Jungkook’s brother at 9, letting him know the kid was staying over, just to be safe.  

Yoongi pushed himself up from his resting place on the sofa. “I’m going to check on the boys,” he called softly.  

Seokjin didn’t say anything, still whispering under his breath, but he gave a tiny nod.  

Taehyung’s bedroom light was still on, soaking the hallway wall, but the silence told him the occupants were asleep. Peeking inside confirmed his suspicions. Taehyung was turned towards the wall, still leaning himself up against the pillows to keep his chest elevated. Even then, his breathing was loud and raspy as his lungs tried to pull in air. Jungkook was laid out between him and the wall, his bangs falling into his eyes and his lips parted slightly as he slept, one arm linked around Taehyung’s own and the other hand tucked under his chin.  

Yoongi pulled his phone out and snuck a quick picture, smiling as he checked the results. They were too cute. And if things had gone the way he expected, he figured they’d probably appreciate the photo.  

He pocketed the device and crept further into the room to pick up. The tea lights had burnt out sometime in the last couple of hours, the remaining dark wax revealing the silver pans beneath. He picked each up and threw them away, then returned to the nightstand, quietly picking up Taehyung’s sticker-covered laptop and returning it to his desk. He was plugging in the lamp again when a tiny whisper caught his attention.  

“Hyung?”  

“Hey, Kookie,” he answered in a hush, coming to stand by the bed. “It’s late. You hungry?”  

Jungkook blinked sleepily. “I ‘unno. Haven’t thought about it,” he mumbled.  

Yoongi huffed a quiet laugh. He watched the kid reflexively curl his arm tighter around Taehyung’s as he yawned, slowly relaxing back into the sheets. It made his lips twitch up fondly. “Did you two finally get your shit together?” he whispered teasingly.  

Jungkook shook his head. “Tae’yungie said he wanted to wait an’ talk.”  

Yoongi felt a tiny pang of disappointment at first, but he hummed in response as he considered that. He’d seen Taehyung have plenty of crushes — his cousin was the type to jump right in: hanging out with the person of his affection as much as possible, gifting them snacks and treats, and flirting at every turn. Those relationships could crash and burn fast, too much emotion poured in too soon. But Taehyung was also quick to recover, always a little dispirited but smiling easily despite it, commenting, “No, they weren’t the one, either. Maybe next time.”  

Jungkook was diffident. The snacks and hang outs, those were the same. But the flirting wasn’t there. Taehyung was no where near as overbearing about it as he had been in the past. Anyone could say the young witch had finally learned his lesson and slowed down, but… Yoongi had a feeling he knew the real reason.  

“That’s probably for the best,” he replied gently. “I doubt this is how either of you wanted to confess.”  

Jungkook shrugged with a tiny, wry smile. Yoongi snorted, amused, and offered him a hand. “C’mon, let’s get you something to snack on.”  

He pulled the younger from the blankets, the two of them trying their best to go slow and not to wake Taehyung. When he was up, he silently ushered Jungkook out of the bedroom, turning the lights off as he followed behind him.  

Hand on the door handle, Yoongi paused to watch Taehyung. The hall light cast a glow over his back and illuminating the rise and fall of every breath he took.  

When he felt settled, he slowly pulled the door half closed.  

Taehyung was a strong kid. And a stubborn one, at that. He’d be just fine.  

✶ 

He was getting real sick of waking up like this.  

It was just a couple of huffed coughs, a result of a slight tickle. Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut with a groan of irritation and growled in an attempt to clear the sensation.  

But it grew more severe, every hack rocking him harder and harder until his chest burned with the force. He gave in and pushed himself up, one hand braced on the bed and the other on the wall to steady himself, but the movement made him dizzy and did little to improve his air intake. It took a long minute for his brain to wake up enough to realize he wasn’t getting anything in at all, his gasps pitiful and unrewarding.  

He twisted on the mattress, fighting against the blankets around his feet. Light was bathing the wall behind him, but it wasn’t giving more than a vague outline to what was around him for the rest of the room. Still, it was enough for him to realize there was nothing there to help him alert the hyungs: the cup was gone (smashed, he’d remember later), and the laptop and lamp both were, too.  

He considered, for one nonsensical moment, whether he could shove the nightstand itself over. He never got the change to even try, though. His shaking arms gave, leaving him to crash down awkwardly onto one elbow. The tension in his head, built up by the continued harsh, desperate attempts to inhale, was almost painful enough to distract him.  

Almost. Because suddenly, not only could he not get anything in, but he couldn’t get anything out , either. No stray petals, none of the disgusting spittle — nothing but a barely there puff of breath. He tried to swallow, to clear his throat, but all it did was make him gag like something was lodged.  

He was going to choke, he realized. Terror gripped him, sending goosebumps up his arms despite his fever and freezing him in place. He was going to suffocate.  

Too caught up in his own head, he didn’t hear the door creak open or what was spoken to him. Hands gripped him around the biceps and yanked him closer to the edge of the bed, sparking a soundless yelp out of him. Being manhandled into sitting up and smacked, hard, on the back, was far from fun, but whatever was in his throat rose higher. For several agonizing seconds, he shook through every hit and heave as whatever it was forced its way upwards, until it escaped him completely, petals brushing his lips as they fell away.  

Eyes stinging, he stared at the entire flower that’d fallen to the sheets, beads like wine smeared across the already red petals, and couldn’t fight the sob that crawled its way up his throat after it.  

“You’re okay.” Yoongi’s words finally got through to him, his tone thick with relief. The hands on him pulled him into a side and rubbed at his arm. “You’re okay, Taehyungie. Hyungdeul have you.”  

He turned his head and tucked himself into Yoongi’s neck, uncaring that he was probably making his cousin’s collar wet. “I want it to stop,” he croaked, petulant.  

“The antidote is almost done, Tae-yah,” came Seokjin’s voice as another hand reached out to touch him. He was smearing that balm into Taehyung’s skin again, the herbal scent familiar but too strong. “Give it another thirty… forty minutes, okay? You’ve got this.”  

Taehyung kind of wanted to throw a fit. Everything ached or hurt, his head felt stuffed, and the sleep he was getting wasn’t making him feel rested. Nothing was going well. But an exhausted sigh was all that left him when he went to complain.  

Yoongi made a light noise of sympathy. “C’mon,” he murmured, gently nudging him. “Let’s go to the living room, okay? You need to eat something.”  

Taehyung reluctantly let himself be pulled to his feet. His eyes were focusing, but he didn’t feel balanced, swaying slightly where he stood and gripping Yoongi’s arm for support. With that in mind, eating didn’t sound like a good idea — he hasn’t exactly keen on having his stomach revolt against him again. But he’d only eaten the ramen and then a fraction of a protein bar Jungkook had convinced him to nibble on, and his stomach felt hollow as a result.  

Maybe if he took it slow, he’d be fine.  

The dim living area was bathed in a green hue when he was escorted in after his pit stop to the restroom, smaller orange glows sprinkled around it like fireflies from the assortment of candles surrounding the cauldron. He couldn’t see the sugar gliders anywhere, but Seokjin didn’t look concerned when he stepped over to check the potion. He must have put them away for them to rest.  

Jungkook was on the far seat of the couch, his feet tucked up underneath him and his body awkwardly leant onto the furniture’s arm as he snoozed. Taehyung dropped down beside him and curled against him, ignoring the startled, questioning sound he got. He was too worn out and cranky to care about disturbing the younger. He wanted cuddles.  

As Yoongi ducked away to find something for him to snack on, Jungkook squirmed to better look at him. “Hey,” he whispered groggily. His bangs were a mess, sticking in all directions, but Taehyung resisted the urge to brush his finger through them, letting himself be distracted by how Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he reached up, tenderly poking him right below the eye. “…Did you cry again?”  

“I’m fine,” Taehyung mumbled in lieu of an answer. He snuggled further into him, lips twitching at how Jungkook’s arms immediately wrapped around him. “Just wanna nap.”  

“No, no napping,” Seokjin called over to them.  

Taehyung raised his head, frowning. They hadn’t been against him napping earlier. “What?”  

“He’s tired, Hyung,” Jungkook protested for him.  

The older witched tapped his spoon on the rim of his cauldron. He didn’t look particularly impressed by their complaints. “Sleeping over and over might be giving those flowers time to grow bigger. The more you’re awake, the more you’re hacking, and the more that’s breaking the flowers up into just petals.”  

“Might be,” Jungkook pointed out. The scowl that settled on his soft features was cute. “Sleeping when you’re sick is good for you.”  

“It’s fine, Kookie,” Taehyung grumbled. A cough, annoyingly, bubbled as if to prove their hyung’s point.  

Jungkook huffed but nuzzled his hair rather than continuing to argue. Taehyung tickled under his chin.  

Yoongi reappeared from the kitchen, smiling somewhat apologetically. “I thought something sugary might be a little more appealing at the moment than another cup of ramen,” he murmured, passing him two jelly cups and spoon. Taehyung took it with a mumble of his thanks, but stared at the packaging with a slow dawning sense of dread.  

The next forty minutes were going to be fun.  

✶

Taehyung looked miserable.  

Jungkook had managed to get him to eat by whining for him to feed him some every other bite, but they’d only made it halfway through the second cup before the witch started to protest that his stomach didn’t feel great and he was scared to throw up again. Jungkook had just taken the cups away, set them aside, and pulled him in for another cuddle. Then Taehyung had fussed a little about being cold without his shirt when the air vent was above them. Seokjin pointed out that he’d need to take it right back off later if he put it on, but Jungkook had glared daggers at him, irked by his weird flip-flopping between nurturing and tough-love, and begged a more sympathetic Yoongi to get them a blanket from the bedroom.  

But then, of course, it turned into a game of keeping Taehyung awake. Playing Crossy Road on his phone had only worked for a short while, until he started drifting off during Jungkook’s turns.  

“Tae, keep your eyes open.”  

“Don’t wanna,” the elder groaned into his neck.  

“I know you don’t, but you’ve gotta,” Jungkook replied back. It was hard to blame him for being so grumpy. His forehead felt hot against Jungkook’s skin, and his voice sounded like he’d made the ill choice of eating glass rather than jelly. Jungkook would be beyond peeved if he was in his situation.  

Actually.  

“How’d you even get cursed, Hyung?” he questioned aloud. “Everyone likes you.”  

“Not everyone, apparently,” Taehyung sniffed, bitter.  

Jungkook snorted at him. When a minute passed without anything else, he jostled him, lips twitching at the high pitched whine he got in response. “You’re not going to tell me?”  

There was a suffering sigh, and the breath (and following cough) puffing over his shoulder, before Taehyung finally admitted in a hoarse, vexed tone, “It was that classmate of yours.”  

His brows furrowed at the answer. A classmate? None of his classmates would— oh no.  

“Chanmi?!”  

“Unfortunately,” Taehyung muttered.  

Jungkook stared blankly at the other side of the room. He’d never mentioned Taehyung to Chanmi, and Taehyung hadn’t even known Chanmi had existed until two weeks before, when he’d been waiting for Jungkook to come out of the school and had witnessed him scramble to hide from the girl.  

(“Do you have a crush or something?” Taehyung had teased him, eyes twinkling with his amusement. “You looked ready to climb in the bushes.”  

Jungkook’s cheeks had flushed. “You know I’m not into girls, Hyung,” he’d huffed instead. Chanmi was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t what he was looking for.  

Not that he was looking. He already had his eyes set on a particular someone.  

Taehyung had just shrugged it off with a grin. “I know. So what’s the deal?”  

The scowl that had fixed on Jungkook’s face had been completely out of his control, a simple reflex after over a month of building annoyance. “The deal is she keeps asking me out over and over! And I keep telling her, ‘Chanmi, I’m really not interested,’ and she’ll say that’s fine, but then she’ll be right back to flirting with me the next chance she gets,” he’d vented, stabbing the hobbang on his plate with his chopsticks. “Valentine’s Day was on the weekend this year, right? She tried all day Friday to give me chocolates, I only avoided her ‘cause my friends were watching out for me. And she still left them in my locker Monday.”  

Taehyung had looked a little surprised by how heated he was, but not put off, rolling his own chopsticks in his fingers as he frowned. “Have you brought it up to a teacher? The principal?”  

“I don’t want to get her in trouble over a silly crush. I just want her to leave me alone,” he’d stressed. Taking it to the school wasn’t necessary if she’d just get some common sense.  

“Even silly crushes can turn obsessive,” Taehyung had reminded him, pointing his chopsticks at him. “She’s never followed you, right?”  

He’d shaken his head. “She’s not like that. Yeah, she’s a bit much, but she did the same thing to Daewhi last semester. She’ll lose interest eventually,” he’d added with a sigh, rubbing at his temple.  

Taehyung hadn’t looked convinced. A pinched look had taken over his features. “…Still. You should talk to your brother, Kookie,” he’d suggested softly. “He could go in and talk to them for you. You don’t have to ask for a punishment, just… maybe for them to try to keep her occupied with something else.”  

“I doubt that’d work,” he’d snorted. “It’ll be fine, Taehyungie. Don’t worry too much. I can handle it.”  

He hadn’t gotten a reply, just a minuscule nod before Taehyung had playfully scolded him for disfiguring his food.)  

He thought about that interaction, mulling it over, before he nudged Taehyung. “Did you do something?”  

He could feel the pout that formed against his neck. “Why are you accusing me?”  

“I’m not accusing you. But I never told Chanmi about you,” he reasoned, petting a hand over his hair. “My friends wouldn’t have told her anything, either. And you’re so protective…”  

“Within reason,” Taehyung complained. He pulled back to look at him, and yup, his lips were set in a cute, irritated pout. They stared at each other for a few long moments before Taehyung made an annoyed sound, exhaling hard through his nose. “Fine . Yes, I confronted her. But I didn’t know she was supernatural,” he groused, defensive. “If I had, I would’ve been more tactful than walking up and telling her to lay off.”  

Not surprising information, by that point. Jungkook smiled, giggling at just how disgruntled he looked. “You really didn’t have to do that, Taehyungie.”  

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t give her your number and she managed to find it, anyways. She was getting too comfortable.”  

“So you went and got yourself cursed?” Jungkook teased.  

The glower and muffed, tight-lipped cough he got in response made him grin, something warm curling in his stomach.  

“As terribly cute as this conversation is,” came Seokjin’s drawling words from across the room, “the antidote is done, kids.”  

Jungkook looked up at the elder, the green glow almost eerily blanketing him in the dark, and turned to Taehyung, gently bumping their foreheads together. “Go on.”  

Taehyung blinked at him for a moment, hesitantly like he was questing if he should say something. But he took Jungkook’s hand and squeezed it instead before he pushed himself up.  

Jungkook stuck to the couch, silently watching the hyungs sit him down in a chair Yoongi had dragged in from the kitchen and Seokjin went about curing and breaking the curse, making Taehyung drink the cup of antidote that made the younger witch gag, and running a halved lemon inches above his skin from the top of his head down to his feet.  

He couldn’t see the magic work. He was pretty sure neither could either of the witches. But the way Taehyung slowly lost all the tension in his body told him enough.  

He thought about it as they all bundled him up and brought him back to the bedroom, curled up in his bed. He thought about it as Yoongi and Seokjin went to collect their blankets and pillows from their own bedrooms for an impromptu sleepover, but Taehyung whined for Jungkook to stay there. He thought about it as he climbed up beside him and let Taehyung burrow into his side.  

He thought about the two of them, sitting on this line between what they’d had and what they could have. It was oddly exposing, to know the hyungs and Taehyung both knew the truth now, to know that while not much had changed in reality, everything had.  

It felt odd, to sit there with his heart on display. But he couldn’t help but smile despite it.  

✶  

Waking up on his own, rather than from the parts of a bouquet trying to forcibly crawl up his throat, had been a welcome start to Taehyung’s day. Inhaling and finding that every breath finally felt like it was filling his lungs completely was so blissful that he’d let himself have a handful of minutes to savor the sensation. His fever and headache had both lifted, too.  

His throat was still aching some, but it was far less seething than it had been, making it easy to listen to his grumbling stomach and trot into the kitchen to appease it with cereal.  

It took a good twenty minutes before he heard a rumbling anywhere else in the apartment. He sent a glance to the time displayed on the oven. 11:57 AM. He must have not been the only one exhausted.  

Footsteps sounded outside the door before Yoongi peeked in, a smile immediately blooming on his face. “Hey, Tae-yah. How are you feeling?”  

“A lot better.”  

“I bet.” Yoongi walked over and pulled Taehyung into a side hug. “Seokjin-hyung said you should be safe to take painkillers anytime you want them, now, if you hurt any, okay?”  

He nodded immediately. Who knew how much you appreciated medicine until you got banned from it? “Where is Hyung, anyways?”  

“His room. He woke up long enough to clean up from last night and then knocked out,” Yoongi chuckled. He stepped away towards the kitchen counter before abruptly changing directions, picking up and returning with a basket that’d been sitting under the window. “Ah, he told me to give this to you.”  

Taehyung blinked at it as it was sat down in front of him. Six corked glass bottles of green liquid sloshed inside it.  

“He bottled the rest of the antidote, too, because, and I quote, ‘both he and Jungkook are handsome young boys who will probably break hearts plenty of times over—‘“  

Taehyung groaned. Yoongi just snickered.  

“Anyways, he wants you to keep them, probably so he never has to make them for you again. And he said they’re neutralized, whatever that means.”  

“Stabilized,” he corrected absentmindedly. Where in the world was he going to store these? He’d have to put them away in a chest or something, somewhere they wouldn’t get broken. He tapped on the glass inquisitively, wondering if they’d been charmed to reduce the chance of just that, but found himself distracted by a petal-filled baggie tucked between them. He tilted his head at it.  

“Where’s Kookie?” he asked.  

Yoongi glanced over his shoulder from where he’d gravitated to the coffee machine. “His brother called and made him come home. Jungkook was supposed to do Namjoon’s chores while he’s out of town, and he forgot. Junghyun was not pleased.”  

Taehyung snorted. Junghyun was a stickler for cleanliness. His little brother? Not so much.  

He stared at the baggie. “…What do you think I should tell him?”  

“Jungkook?”  

He nodded. “I told him I wanted us to wait to talk. And I know what I want to tell him. But I don’t know what I should tell him.”  

There was a sigh, and when he glanced up, his cousin was leant back against the counter with his arms crossed. “I think,” he said slowly, “that yes, age gaps can go badly. But I also think you’re both capable of making smart decisions.”  

Taehyung frowned. “That doesn’t tell me much.”  

Yoongi waved a vague hand. “There’s no handbook to life. If the gap was bigger, yeah, I’d probably discourage you, but it’s not. If you’re willing to put in the work and monitor yourself…” He shrugged.  

The coffee machine beeped. He turned away, and Taehyung stared at his back for a long moment, considering.  

Was he willing?  

He slid off his chair, bowl forgotten and his fingers itching for a pencil. “I’ll be back.”  

✶

“Chanmi, could I talk to you, please?”  

Jungkook was a little too aware of what the scene had to look like to their classmates: Jungkook hovering by the desk she was wiping down, hand curled around his own rag.  

He probably looked like he was about to confess.  

Of course, that was the farthest from the truth.  

Chanmi didn’t know that, though. The shock on her face melted into something like excitement. She dropped the rag to the table. “Of course!”  

Jungkook led the way out of the room, purposely heading down the hall towards the bathroom, where their classmates had already finished cleaning. It left them alone there, something both relieving and discomforting.  

He caught her at the end of brushing off her skirt as he turned around, her hair better pushing behind her ears sometime during their walk. An eager smile appeared on her face when they met eyes. “Jungkookie, did you see the text I—”  

“Did you curse my hyung?” he interrupted her. He kind of felt bad for the way her face fell with her surprise. Maybe. Sort of.  

“Why would you ask that?” she giggled, an awkward smile taking over the eager one. “I can’t use magic, silly.”  

“Don’t play dumb. Hyeonji told Mingyu you’ve been practicing with spell books. Did you think that would win me over or something?”  

Her lips twisted. “Of course not! I just thought he should mind his own business, is all.”  

“ You should have minded your business,” Jungkook answered firmly. “I’ve already told you I don’t want to date you. That means whatever this is,” he waved his hand between them, “is done, not that you can keep trying to woo me. And it certainly doesn’t mean you can curse my friends, Chanmi.”  

“You haven’t even given me a chance, though, Kookie,” she complained. He raised a brow when she stepped closer and immediately took his own step back.  

“I told you I’m not interested. What is so difficult about that to wrap your brain around?”  

She stopped short, crossing her arms huffily. Her round eyes looked a lot less sweet. “You like that stupid boy, don’t you?” she accused him sharply, following it with a scoff when he didn’t reply. “I knew it!”  

“Again, that’s none of your business,” he retorted with just as much heat. “Do you even know Hyung is a witch? You’re lucky he didn’t choose to have the curse bounced back at you. You wouldn’t think this was no big deal then.”  

That seemed to give her pause. Jungkook took one look at her hesitant expression and groaned. “You didn’t stop to think it could be bounced back? Did you not do any research?”  

“The book didn’t mention it,” Chanmi retorted back.  

“It shouldn’t have to, you were doing curse work. It’s common sense.”  

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t act all high and mighty. I know you aren’t from a supernatural family.”  

Jungkook’s eye twitched. What was the point of bringing that up? Like it was an insult or something. “Whatever, Chanmi.” A surge of voices down the hall made him glance at the clock. He stepped around her to head back towards the classroom, stopping long enough to fix her with a stern glare. “If you keep this up, I’m taking it to the principal, so cut it out and lose my number. And stop messing around with curses before you or someone else gets hurt.“  

She quipped something after him, but he was already blocking her out, tired of her useless games. Her footsteps thankfully didn’t follow him down the hall. Mingyu and Yugyeom stood waiting outside the classroom door, the latter holding his backpack.  

“Thanks,” he sighed, taking it from him.  

“I didn’t think you’d ever be willingly alone with her,” Mingyu snorted with a supportive pat on Jungkook’s shoulder, chancing a glance behind him.  

Jungkook dragged a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I didn’t really have a choice. I can’t wait for her to lose interest if she’s going to start cursing every person she thinks likes me, too.” Mingyu mumbled in agreement.  

“Speaking of curses,” Yugyeom said slowly, peering out the window. He pointed towards the street outside. “Isn’t that Tae-hyung?”  

Jungkook raised onto his toes to look out the farthest he could.  

It wasn’t hard to spot him, not with the peachy hair that had faded from the bright orange of Taehyung’s last adventure with hair dye. He was standing outside the convenience store across the road, phone in his hand and a bag sitting at his feet.  

He was walking for the stairwell before he even realized it, Yugyeom’s questioning call falling on deaf ears. Backpack slung properly around his shoulders, he navigated through the throng of classmates with his eyes set on each next entryway until he could step out the school doors and focus on Taehyung, instead.  

Taehyung looked up as Jungkook reached the end of the walkway. He immediately smiled, shaking his bangs from his eyes and rocking on his heels. He jerked his head towards the crosswalk a few feet down the street. Jungkook sent him a small smile back and nodded, and they walked towards it, separated but together.  

The second the coast was clear, Jungkook hurried across the street. “I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” he rushed out.  

It felt too open, all of the sudden. In the apartment, the realization that they both liked each other had hit hard, but the privacy had sheltered him from the worst of the feeling of being exposed. But that privacy was gone now, and he was acutely aware of his classmates at his back. Most of them probably wouldn’t think anything of the interaction as they passed. Taehyung wasn’t exactly a new face, let alone the only kid to hang around, waiting for a friend to finish classes. Could they see Jungkook’s new nerves, though? The eagerness that made it difficult to sit still?  

If Taehyung was bothered by any of their distant presences, it didn’t show. His eyes were solely on Jungkook. “I told you a day or two,” he reminded him with a soft laugh, reaching out to flick him under the chin. He raised the tote in his hands. “I bought us a snack at the CU, if that’s okay?”  

Jungkook met his eyes. If Taehyung could focus on just him, he could focus on just Taehyung. He let himself bounce in place with his excitement. “Of course! Let’s go to the park.”  

Jungkook reached out and instinctively took him by the hand, pulling him down the sidewalk away from the school. It wasn’t anything new — they’d held hands a million times, sometimes to avoid getting separated in busy areas, sometimes just to drag each other along or lend their support. But even though Taehyung didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t see his face, Jungkook could feel the slight jump of his fingers in his hold, like he’d been startled.  

Maybe he wasn’t as composed as he looked.  

The thought made him curl their fingers together a little tighter.  

The walk to the park wasn’t long. They found it mostly quiet, only a stay person walking through and a couple of kids running around the playground with their mothers supervising from the side. Taehyung sat his bag down on a picnic table, waving him to sit across from him. “C’mon, let’s get our drinks before the ice melts.”  

He pulled the two prepackaged cups of ice from the bag, following them with the pouch of the blue lemonade he tended to stick to, and a pinky-colored pouch. “I thought you might like the watermelon flavor…?”  

“I’ve tried it before, it’s good,” Jungkook reassured him. He pulled the cups closer and pried the lids off them. “I’ll do the drinks if you do the food?”  

At Taehyung’s noise of agreement, he peeled the protective film off one cup and ripped open the blue pouch, listening to the ice crackle as he poured the drink of it, filling it to the top. He pressed the lid back on and poked the straw he was presented with through, and reached for the second cup.  

He glanced over and felt his stomach growl excitedly at the sight of the kimbap rolls Taehyung was carefully unfolding from the packaging. He rushed to fill his own drink, Taehyung giggling at him.  

They both properly sat down, Jungkook dropped his backpack to the side and Taehyung rummaging back in his own bag until he found the chopsticks and handed a set over. “Go ahead, Kookie.”  

He took them, but didn’t move to take any. “You’re older.”  

Taehyung rolled his eyes and snapped his chopsticks apart, picking up a slice and shoving it into his mouth.  

Jungkook immediately followed him, taking his own slice. A happy noise escaped him at the taste. Fresh kimbap would always be superior, sure, but he’d never complain about simple convenience store kimbap. It would never let him down.  

They ate quietly for a few minutes. Well, he ate. Taehyung seemed a little distracted, playing with his chopsticks and staring off.  

Jungkook didn’t blame him. He could feel the awkwardness, too, the uncertainty that divided them. There was one conversation that this interaction would lead to — Taehyung had promised him, after all. And sure, they both probably knew what the result of it would be. But that didn’t make it any less daunting.  

He let them sit in the silence for a little longer, until there was only two slices left. Taehyung startled when he kicked him under the table, whipping his head to look at him, and Jungkook pushed the wrapper closer, offering them.  

“You can have them, Kookie.”  

Jungkook shook his head, refusing. “You only had two. You should eat some more.”  

Taehyung grumbled, but reluctantly picked one up. He slid the wrapped right back, though, and Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him at his stubbornness, giving in and taking the final slice.  

“Are you feeling better?” he asked as soon as he finished. He looked better, at least.  

Taehyung smiled comfortingly. “Much better. My throat stopped aching last night.”  

Jungkook fiddled with the lid of his drink. “Good. I was worried you’d still be hurting.”  

“The antidote prevented that. It wilted the flowers, then broke them down into pure magic,” the witch explained. He did this thing with his hands: extending his fingers wide like he was waving, then curling them inwards, following it with a fluttery motion. It was cute. “No leftover bits to hack up, thank Hecate.”  

“Convenient.”  

“Very,” Taehyung huffed. He tilted his head slightly at Jungkook. “How are you feeling?”  

Jungkook blinked. “Me?”  

He got a hum in response. “You looked a little tired when you came out.”  

“Oh.” He folded the tip his straw between his fingers. “I’m okay… I told Chanmi off for you. And told her I’d take it to the principal if she didn’t quit bothering me.”  

Taehyung whistled lowly. “Do you think she’ll listen?”  

“I’m not sure. But I’m sticking to my word if she doesn’t. I don’t think she’ll be playing with curses again, though. She didn’t know they could be bounced back, apparently.”  

“That’s common sense,” Taehyung said bluntly.  

“You’d think so,” he muttered. “But I told her to keep her nose out of our business. And that you’re a witch. So maybe that’ll be enough to scare her off.”  

“Maybe,” Taehyung sighed. “I didn’t mean to cause an issue.”  

“You didn’t. It was time I stood up to her. And I’m happy you did, anyways,” Jungkook admitted shyly.  

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, looking away. His hands went right back to rolling his chopsticks. Jungkook observed the motion curiously. Taehyung’s behavior was so out of place — he wasn’t used to his hyung being so timid or reluctant. He certainly hadn’t been Saturday evening. “Are you really that nervous to talk about this?”  

Taehyung’s lips twisted. “It’s… a lot less simple than it seems,” he finally voiced.  

Jungkook tilted his head. He disagreed. He’d already done it once, a second time really didn’t seem that difficult. “Then I’ll start.” He sat up straight, an easy smile rising to his face and meeting Taehyung’s gaze head on when he turned to look at him. “I really like you, Taehyungie. I have for the last year. You’re friendly with everyone, so I couldn’t tell what you felt, but now I know. And I’d like it if you’d be my boyfriend.”  

Taehyung stared at him with an odd mix of emotions in his eyes: the fondness that he was used to, and something like dejectedness that he didn’t understand. “I like you, too,” he whispered, and it made Jungkook’s heart jump into his throat, even if he’d already known that was the answer — only for it to immediately drop at the following, “But I don’t think I can be your boyfriend, yet.”  

That… wasn’t what Jungkook had anticipated. At all. He took a slow breath, trying to not let his shoulders fall. Taehyung had left a glimmer of hope there. He just had to reach for it. “…Yet?” he asked quietly.  

The chopstick in Taehyung’s hand clacked against the table with his anxious fiddling. “I usually don’t deny when I have a crush. Yoongi-hyung can vouch that I’m not very patient with my feelings. But with you… I’ve ignored them a long time, whether I knew I was or not, because you’re younger.”  

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “But there’s barely two years between us.”  

“Two years can still be a lot, Jungkook,” Taehyung told him gently.  

“There’s two years between my parents. Almost three,” was the immediate denial that escaped him. What difference did it make?  

“Were they our age when they met?” Taehyung questioned him.  

“No? They were in college.”  

“So they were both adults?” Jungkook nodded hesitantly.  

The witch ran a hand through his hair. “That’s the issue, Kookie. I don’t feel like an adult. But when you turn nineteen, whether you like it or not, everyone sees you as one. And no matter which way we turn it, you’re still underage. You’re at a different point in your life.”

Jungkook wanted to argue that it didn’t matter. The same age gap would exist even if Jungkook was an adult. But he, annoyingly, understood Taehyung’s point.  

If he hadn’t dropped out, Taehyung would be in college right now, and it sounded little strange for a college student to be in a relationship with a high schooler, didn’t it? If someone two years younger approached Jungkook, he’d probably be a little unsure, too.

“So we wait a year and half?” His voice came out weaker than he wanted, laden with his disappointment.  

The was no answer for a long minute before Taehyung sighed out, “If I was smarter.” He leaned around his drink and pulled his bag closer, reaching inside.  

The questions Jungkook intended to ask fell away as he blinked at the paper and pencil that was pulled out. “What’s that?”  

“This is a list of rules,” Taehyung murmured, unfolding the paper. A bunch of lines of Hangul were scattered around the page like notes. “I don’t feel comfortable being in a relationship with you yet, but I feel comfortable dating you — if you agree to these.”  

Jungkook blinked at him, trying to process the rollercoaster he was being sent on. “You’re… giving me an ultimatum?”  

Taehyung stared at him with bewildered expression. “No?” He paused. “Well. Kind of? But not really.” He shook his head. “I want to be in a relationship with you, Kookie, I just don’t think that’s a good idea right now. But I think if we’re careful, we can date until then. And these rules are things that make me feel more comfortable. They’d keep you safe.”  

Jungkook frowned. “You say that like you’d hurt me.”  

“Of course I wouldn’t, not on purpose. But it doesn’t matter if I’d mean to or not,” Taehyung sniffed. “People can accidentally pressure each other into things. These rules would hopefully prevent that.”  

Jungkook eyed the paper skeptically. “…Rules like what?”  

Taehyung straightened. “Your brother has to be in the loop, at least until you’re nineteen.”

His nose automatically wrinkled. “Like what, check-ins?”  

“Basically,” came the confirmation. Taehyung’s lips twitched upwards at the annoyed noise he made. “I know, I know. But Junghyun-hyung is your guardian right now, and he has your best interest in mind. If he noticed something he felt was inappropriate, like… me being too pushy about something, maybe. I’d want him to call me on that.”  

“I could do that myself,” Jungkook complained. They didn’t need a babysitter wanting updates on what they were doing.  

“But you might not,” Taehyung refuted firmly. “Behavior you might think is fine, might not be. Being open with him protects you more than isolating yourself.”  

Jungkook’s glower did nothing to shift the steady stare he got back. His lips pressed into a pout. “You’re not going to budge on this one, are you.”  

“Nope.”  

He groaned, dropping his head backwards.  

Taehyung laughed.  

“If it makes you feel better, I’m going to drag Yoongi-hyung in on my side.” He righted himself, watching Taehyung shrug like it was no big deal. “He’s always given me good advice. I trust him to tell me if he thinks I’m out of line.”  

“Why are you so convinced you’re going to hurt me?” he asked, concerned. Taehyung had never made him uncomfortable before. It wasn’t like a new label was going to suddenly make him flip a switch and start bullying him.  

The witch tilted his head. “I’m not. But a lot of dating and relationships is figuring each other out and trying to have fun together, and sometimes people get carried away. I want to avoid putting you in uncomfortable situations, or situations that could harm you in the long run.  

“For example,” he murmured, looking down at the page, “I want you to prioritize your schoolwork over me. I’m sure we’ll both want to go on a million and one dates, but I don’t want you to tank tests and homework just because you were more focused on me. Make sense?”  

Unfortunately. Jungkook groaned, “I guess so,” but smiled at Taehyung’s snort.  

He watched him reach for the pencil. “Can we put both of those down, then?” At his nod, he turned the page and listed them out in a neater script, then lifted his head again, flipping the page back to the scribbled notes.  

“Okay, next one: no kisses below the forehead.”  

Jungkook shot up straight in his seat at that. “What?! No kisses?” Restricting the perfect, prime act of loving affection? Sacrilege.  

“Below the forehead,” Taehyung repeated, amusement dripping from his words.  

“That’s cruel! Why would you not want kisses?” he whined.  

“Because kisses below the forehead are more intimate,” Taehyung reasoned simply.  

Affronted by such a blasphemous suggestion, Jungkook twisted away from him, sulking. “They are not.”  

“…Okay.”  

He hesitated. That tone was too plain… It sounded like a trap. He slowly turned back to him. “Okay?”  

Taehyung was looking at him with a blank face. “Okay. Come kiss me on the cheek, then.”  

Jungkook’s cheeks totally didn’t go red at the idea. Not at all. “I… No.”  

“Oh?” Something like mischief sparkled in his eyes. “I thought it wasn’t anything special?”  

“I-It’s not. I’m just comfortable, is all.” Perfectly comfortable on the other side of the table, far away from Taehyung cute bread cheeks. Very comfortable.  

A smug smile sat on Taehyung’s lips. “Sure. So, no kisses — below the forehead — until you’re eighteen.”  

“What about after?” he wheedled. He could handle a few months, but if it was dragged out, he’d lose his mind. “Can I have more kisses then?”  

Taehyung hummed as though considering. “I’m sure pecks would be acceptable,” he drawled, eyes scrunching cutely at Jungkook’s sound of protest. “Normal kisses will probably be fine by then, Kookie. We’ll just talk about it when we get there. I am cutting you off if you get frisky, though. I’m not making out with a minor.”  

Jungkook gaped at him. “I-I didn’t suggest that!”  

Taehyung just made a noncommittal noise, smiling to himself as he added the rule to the list.  

“Last one,” he mumbled. He sat the pencil to the side, then stretched his arms across the table. Jungkook blinked at the hands presented to him. They’d held hands not even thirty minutes ago, but he could feel the shift between them; he could see the blatant fondness in Taehyung’s eyes, freed from the doubt that’d been lingering there, too.  

They weren’t balancing on the fence anymore. They were jumping over it.  

He lifted his own hands and laid them in Taehyung’s.  

“I want us to be able to speak comfortably,” Taehyung told him softly. “If something makes one of us nervous, or uncomfortable, I want us to feel safe to talk about that with each other. And I don’t want there to be an expiration date for that. I want you to always be able to talk to me.”  

“I’ve always felt comfortable talking to you,” Jungkook reassured him. He had been from the day they met, when the elder had responded to his questions without an ounce of annoyance. Taehyung had always been safe to him.  

Taehyung squeezed his fingers and tipped his head at him. “Do you have any rules for me?”  

“For you?”  

“I mean, all the others are for both of us. But is there anything you want to add?”  

Jungkook frowned at their hands, trying to think. He really wasn’t the planner between the two of them. “You… have to meet my parents when I graduate?”  

“Already planning on it,” Taehyung answered immediately, looking completely at ease.  

He nodded awkwardly. Nothing was coming to mind.  

Until something did, and he bit back his grin.  

“I want you to avoid getting cursed.”  

Taehyung blinked wide eyes at him, startled, before he barked a laugh. “Yah, you brat—!” He throwing his legs over the table bench. Jungkook scrambled up and took off, giggling and shrieking as he was pursued.  

(It probably should have been a little embarrassing, knowing mothers were watching them run around screeching when they were easily three times the age of the children on the playground. But Jungkook really didn’t care.  

The day maybe hadn’t been all he had expected, but it was perfect, anyways.)  

✶

Taehyung really should have expected to get roasted.  

“I mean, I can’t blame her. You started it by going in guns blazing.”  

“I didn’t go in guns blazing, Jimin,” he sighed, taking the black tourmaline crystal out of the bowl in front of him, shaking off the water. A drop landed on his phone. “I just told her to knock it off. I was polite.”  

“I doubt she read it as polite when she didn’t even know you,” Jimin snorted. “Would you take a kindly to a stranger coming up and telling you to stop talking to Jungkook?”  

“If I was the one Jungkook had already told to back off? Yes,” he scoffed. He trotted over to the window, pat drying the rock off with the bottom of his shirt and setting it in the corner of the sill. “And what beginner goes straight for curses? She’s lucky it didn’t backfire on her.”  

“She’s lucky Seokjin-hyung was nice enough to not bounce it back at her.”  

“That too,” Taehyung mumbled.  

There was a sound across the line, then Jimin voice came through, slightly distant. “What were the petals from?"

“Which flowers?”  

“Yeah! You know how Hanahaki works, it’s never random.”  

Taehyung glanced over at his shelf, where three bottles sat. He’d separated all the petals out depending on the type, figuring he could use them for something later. After he’d figured out what they were, of course.  

“Carnation, rose, and cyclamen.”  

“Those Jungkook’s favorites?”  

He shook his head even without Jimin there to see it. He’d been unsure, at first, what to think of them, and had even thought that maybe they were random. Jungkook’s favorite flower was hibiscus. And they weren’t somehow Taehyung’s favorite flower, either — his was lavender, like the dense shrubs his mother and grandmother had grown in their gardens when he was a child.  

But they’d seemed familiar. So he’d gone digging through his photos for answers.  

“No,” he finally voiced. “But they are the flowers that were in the bouquet he picked out for my graduation.”  

Jimin whistled. “Okay, maybe that’s cute. What colors?”

Taehyung looked away from the petals, narrowing his eyes at his phone. “Are you looking through that flower meanings book?”  

“Yup.”  

“They probably won’t mean anything, Minnie.”  

“They might though. Give me answers.”  

Sighing, he eyed the bottles. “The cyclamen petals are purple, kind of a dark magenta-y shade. White rose. And the carnation petals are red.“  

Jimin hummed, the airy sound of pages turning under his voice. “White rose means young love, I don’t need to look that up.”  

“You have rose meanings memorized?” Taehyung asked dryly.  

“They’re the easiest to remember. Carnation… What shade?”  

“Uh. Dark red?”  

“Light red means admiration, but dark red means love and affection. Cute.”  

“He wasn’t going to have known any of this when he picked those flowers out,” Taehyung complained.  

“Shush, Tae. Cyclamen…” More rustling pages. “There’s a variety of meanings for purple. A few would be mystery, charm, creativity, shyness, and resignation. Any of those could apply to you.”  

“None of it applies to me,” Taehyung sighed as he wandered back towards the nightstand.  

“Come on. It might! There’s a progression there: shyness, young love and—”  

“Bye, Jimin,” he called out, picking up his phone.  

The faerie whined at him, but Taehyung stabbed the red button to end the call. For someone who gagged every time people around him kissed, Jimin was oddly invested in romance.  

Just as he was about to throw his phone onto the bed, it buzzed in his hands. He expected to see Jimin complaining, but he found a message from Jungkook, instead, the profile picture of the younger as a bunny staring up at him.  

⎯

Kookie Crumb (now)  

So…  

⎯

Taehyung sniffed a laugh, swiping the chat open.  

⎯

Me (8:51 PM)  

so?  

Kookie Crumb (8:51 PM)  

!!  

When we say ‘dating,’ how often does that imply going on dates?? 👉👈  

Me (8:52 PM)  

you did not just do the finger thing through text  

Kookie Crumb (8:52 PM)  

…Is that no to going on a date tomorrow?  

Me (8:52 PM)  

all you had to do was ask, idiot  

i’ll see you then (づ ⇀ ‿‿ ◕ )づ ~★  

⎯

He giggled at the string of exclamation points Jungkook sent. He moved to set his phone down so he could put away the bowl of moon water, but he hesitated, returning to the chat log and opening Jungkook’s contact.  

⎯

Kookie Crumb was changed to Kookie <3 .  

⎯