Chapter Text
The first ever time Seokjin steps into a church in his entire life, it’s to ask a priest about demonology and possible ways to ward off evil spirits upon throwing a slumber party at an infamous haunted house.
Go figure.
Really, it's all because of Hoseok.
Almost every single weird occurrence in Seokjin's life so far – shouting a slew of profanities at a mythical goat demon on a bridge, sitting and discussing about boats with a probably long-dead spirit, driving over to abandoned parking lots with heat-sensor cameras strapped around him full gear – has been because of Hoseok.
Jung Hoseok is Kim Seokjin’s best friend, partner-in-crime, and his business partner. Or, well, it’s more so along the lines of Seokjin being a middle-level manager and Hoseok’s his CEO or something. After all, it's Hoseok who has all this ghost stuff wrapped around his finger.
Incidentally, Hoseok also has Seokjin wrapped around his finger. But maybe, like, just his index finger or something. God. God, his index finger. Seokjin had always shuddered at the thought of waxing poetry for a significant other, and look where he is now: comparing his nothing-serious, extremely minor infatuation with a type of finger.
(Hoseok disgusts him. Vexes, really. His cute heart-shaped mouth and incessant belief in spooky bedtime stories and how he always smells a little like shaving cream and peaches at all times. Jesus, it’s almost unfair.)
See, in all actuality, it boils down to a pretty simple formula.
Hoseok is a die-hard ghost superfan, who gets into all these unsolved cases and theories, always being fascinated with the presence of the otherworldly. Seokjin thinks the supernatural creatures are about as real as his will to live, which is, to say, practically non-existent.
Or – Hoseok believes in ghosts and Seokjin doesn't.
So one night in college, Hoseok cooks up this idea of creating a Youtube channel where the whole premise basically revolves around Hoseok busting out his ghost-guns and Seokjin aiming to dodge the bullets with his Shield of Ultimate Scientific Evidence. Ghostbusters, but low-budget, Hoseok had beamed, and we explore all these unsolved mysteries, we go to actual haunted places, right, and we scout out any evidence that they exist.
But Seok-ah, I don’t believe they’re real, Seokjin had wrinkled his nose. I won’t be of much help.
That’s the fun thing about all this, hyung – I’ll try my best to convince you they are. Wanna bet?
Seokjin had quickly agreed. He says, to anyone who asks, that it’s fun to see Hoseok get spooked. He tells himself he wants to prove Hoseok wrong, that he won’t be convinced about anything. It’s definitely not because he’d wanted to have a legitimate excuse to spend more time with Hoseok, or whatever. Not at all because of the tightening in his lungs, the slight way he’s always out of breath whenever Hoseok so much as looks at him.
It’s not.
It’s really not – it’s just Seokjin wanting to brush up his video-camera skills, and getting a kick out of seeing Hoseok get absolutely shit-scared. He's never once believed that spirits or afterlife or any of those sorts of thing exists.
In this universe, Seokjin concludes, matter is matter. That’s all there is to it – we are physics and science and, when we die, dust to the soil. Everything is ground down to atoms and star stuff and tangible things that come together and break apart over and over again. He believes in what he can see, in what’s tangible, identifiable – things you can keep track of, things you can hold in your hand like tangerines and a bird and someone else’s hand.
Call it neurotic, but Seokjin thinks of it less as being narrow-minded as being pragmatic and grounded. Ghosts just don’t exist. They are, quite literally, out of his world.
And so, every fortnight, the two of them would take an unsolved cold case, some mystery Hoseok had somehow managed to dig up from the Internet’s dregs. They’d investigate it, talk about their opinions and theories, sometimes even going so far as to visit some of the real-life locations to get a feel of the crime. Mostly, it’s just Hoseok trying to convince realist Seokjin of weird energies and spiritual hauntings, and then they’ll edit the clips into 20-minute videos to post for online posterity.
Hoseok mostly does all the research, diving deep into news articles and interview transcripts available online, following conspiracy forums for updates. He compiles all his notes into a neat, bulging binder, tabbing and highlighting and summarizing them into bullet points.
Seokjin, on the other hand, just shows up for the cameras and tells ghosts to go fuck themselves. Although sometimes he switches tacks and tries to politely confer with them about current news events, recent movie premieres, that kind of stuff. It’s good to keep a little variability, and he figures if there’s the slightest chance that a ghost does exist, they would probably love to know about the latest pop trends, like Taylor Swift's feud with Kanye or maybe Brexit.
So, yeah, a couple of best friends go stake-out on cold, chilling cases. It actually makes for some pretty good views. Their channel's grown a respectable fanbase now, and Hoseok has recently proposed amping up their brand with an idea of visiting one of the most haunted houses in Korea.
"Get this, hyung," Hoseok says, excited, his eyes crinkling up to the sides in that trademark of his, "this time we'll stay overnight."
Seokjin shoots him a look. "Seok-ah. Don't get me wrong."
"Every time you say that it's always an insult, hyung, don't do it -"
"–what, I'm just saying, okay. You're like. One of the bravest and wimpiest ghostbuster I’ve ever come across.” Seokjin’s starting to laugh into his sentences now, and Hoseok is, too, both of them trying to argue still.
“No – you – it’s perfectly natural, it’s called a natural reaction –”
"Like you hear a wind move through a window or whatever, and you go screaming your head off, and now, what, you tell me you’re going to cozy it up in a spirit’s lair, braid their hair or some shit –”
Hoseok wheezes, “that’s not true – fucking braiding their hair –”
Seokjin’s cheeks hurt from laughing so much. “Seok-ah, you’re a wimp.”
"Shut up. Shut up – okay, alright, in my defense –” Hoseok makes eye contact with Seokjin, both of them rosy-cheeked and eyes squinted from all the laughter, and they promptly burst into more giggles. Hoseok’s cheekbones curve, rounded apple-red, and he has to struggle to get his words out, "I like the thrill, okay, it's the whole possibility of – like, of finding out this entire realm exists. Come on, you know? It's literally right next to your own world, and yeah, no shit, it's scary because we don’t know anything about it for sure, but. It’s just, the thrill of the entire thing. It’s the adrenaline."
There's a short pause.
They're both just sucking their lips in to hold back more laughter, trying their best to maintain normal eye contact with each other, until Seokjin audibly whispers ghost kink, and they're off laughing again.
Hoseok swats at Seokjin's shoulder, shut up hyung, fuck you, and they can't stop giggling. Over nothing, really. Seokjin always finds himself laughing over nothing much whenever Hoseok's around.
So. Yeah, again – a couple of best friends go stake-out on cold, chilling cases, but this time with a sleepover. Right up Seokjin's alley.
That's how he finds himself sitting on a slightly rough church pew on a Saturday noon when he should be sleeping in, next to an eager-looking Hoseok and opposite a stern-looking priest.
"Father Min, thank you again for meeting with us," says Hoseok, almost deferentially.
Father Min is quite young to be a Father with a capital F. His black hair looks cut and layered well, his sharp nose and dark eyes bring a regal sort of presence to him, and the black robes he has on for Sunday mass nearly drowns him. Still, he has an almost jaded air, like he's seen a lot of the world. Very convincing, and it ages him, makes his studious gaze carry more weight. He smiles at Hoseok. "Of course, child."
"Yes," Seokjin echoes, "thank you, Father."
Father Min gives him a perfunctory nod, and a rather suspicious gaze. Seokjin wonders if it’s his non-believing realism seeping through his pores that’s putting Father Min off, but then realizes it’s probably just his shirt. He’d thrown on the cleanest crew neck shirt he could scrounge around for in a rush – which happens to say punch me in the face, I need to feel alive in huge bold letters below a picture of a cat with sunglasses drinking wine, but dejectedly. It’s one of Namjoon’s gifts from his annual trips back from Japan, so Seokjin’s blameless in this.
Obviously.
Still, Hoseok had given him a lecture when Seokjin had came to pick him up, grumbling about how that shirt is sacrilegious, hyung, this is the church for God's sake.
“What?” Seokjin had argued, defending himself. “There’s no time to change. Plus, Jesus is a huge fan of red wine, anyways. If anything, this shirt is a church merchandise.”
Hoseok now launches into a brief explanation of why they're here – he wants advice, for if you're going to host a siesta in a ghost house overnight. Father Min's gaze slides from Seokjin's suspicious shirt and back to Hoseok.
Tuning out, Seokjin looks around the church instead, surveying it with an almost detached air like that of a curator attending an art exhibition. It's a typical church, just like the ones Seokjin had seen in movies. Rows of wooden pews are lined up to the sides of a main walkway, leading up to the altar with a podium and a huge hanging cross. The walls are bricked brown, and off to the side, Seokjin can make out the confessional box. No stained glasses, although there is a rather stylish painting of Baby Jesus in acrylic colors, so that makes up for it at least. It smells like leftover perfume, wood polish, and a faint scent of gardenias.
Seokjin had never tagged along to any of his friends' church group activities. His parents are devout Buddhists, so they have their own small shrine at home. Every once in a while, they'd all pile into the family car and travel up the outskirts of Seoul to this semi-isolated temple his family had frequented ever since he was young. It's airy, spacious, with a garden for the monks to meditate in, and he always comes home smelling like incense and the tangy smell of oranges they’d bring to offer and bless.
It's probably a good time to mention that Seokjin's agnostic.
Which means he's not saying God exists, but he's also not saying that God doesn't exist. He's just Switzerland. Nothing's known until it's known, and it's all a little Schrodinger's cat, so Seokjin mostly stays out of religious conversations altogether.
“...to give you advice on how to possibly defend against demons, given that you’re planning to stay overnight at an infamous haunted house infested with ghosts?”
Seokjin tunes back in from his internal monologue to find a rather confounded Father Min. He seems more than a little consternated, but then again, he's performed exorcisms, baptisms, and the likes. Compared to that, two boys going ghost-hunting is hardly a comparable event.
"Yes. It's for research purposes." Hoseok nods, and Seokjin watches in awe as a curl of Hoseok’s faded orange hair shakes loose with the movement and bounces off his forehead. It looks so on-brand with his presence, how the tangerine of Hoseok’s hair is rustier now, how it’s always in a state of disarray. It's just this warm comfortable thing, being around Hoseok, like slipping under a childhood blanket that's become worn-out but in a cozy sort of way. Like nothing's fake or gelled in place, and you don't have to think of motions and motors and what to say next – you just get to be.
Seokjin doesn't understand how a curl of hair has him utterly whipped. Maybe it is as they say, after all – feelings are mysterious, a complex thing, yet to be deciphered by even the most insightful, and then some other times you're just a smitten idiot with a potential hair kink.
Father Min blinks. "And this is a...conscious decision?" He looks not-so-discreetly over at Seokjin again, a little furtive like he's convinced Seokjin has somehow hexed Hoseok into agreeing with this whole plan.
"Yes, Father, and I know it sounds crazy -"
Seokjin cuts in, a little prickly. "For the record, good sir, it's all his idea, not mine-"
" – and we are both aware of the dangers." Hoseok shoots Seokjin a glare. "Which is why we come to you for help."
Father Min blinks again, slower this time. "Right…well." He doesn't say anything for a while, just stares off at the Baby Jesus painting, his eyes a little weary like he’s hoping Baby Jesus could somehow promise him an early retirement with sufficient welfare.
A few seconds pass, and –
“My God, Seok-ah,” Seokjin whispers to Hoseok under his breath, hushed and grave. “We broke him.”
“Shh.” Hoseok’s elbow is very skinny, very pointy. Seokjin’s ribs find this out the hard way, but he sees Hoseok trying to hold back a smile, and he ends up grinning too.
Easy, easy, easy.
At last, Father Min sighs. It’s an ancient sound, like he's suffering from great pain. "Well, I would honestly advise you not to go to any haunted areas in the first place, but you both seem very...stubborn."
That's priest code word for stupid, probably, but Seokjin can work with that. He thrives on adversity.
"There are a few things you need to know, then." Father Min starts rattling off about demonology, origins of spirits, and a few cases he'd worked on before.
Hoseok listens like an attentive schoolboy the entire time, nodding at points, asking questions. He even has an actual legal pad out, and his tongue is slightly sticking out the side of his mouth, like he always does whenever he's trying his best to listen. He never talks about this much, but Seokjin knows Hoseok doesn't have the easiest time focusing, so Hoseok always tries his hardest at it, full laser-focused attention, and it might take someone aback the first time around. It’s a little like his mind has so many tabs open it’s hard to pick only one to focus on. They’re all going on tangents, and it takes Hoseok a while to get things down.
Seokjin thinks it's really nice how hard Hoseok's trying, even if it's just for a ghost-hunting Youtube video channel. He’s so caught up thinking about this that he doesn’t realize Father Min had finished his advice, until:
“Seokjin-ssi?"
Shit.
“I'll repeat that again, just in case you missed it.” Father Min throws Seokjin a side-eye that is decidedly not very priest-like of him. "You are - in under no circumstances - allowed to invite or taunt the ghosts. You should not invite them into conversations or actions. This means no talking to them, no violating their properties, and no challenging the spirits."
All this seems to be directed more for Seokjin's sake than Hoseok's, as if Father Min's priest radar had picked up on Seokjin's neutrally chaotic feelings towards God and spirits in general. Seokjin arranges his lips into a perfectly pleasant smile - almost shit-eating, one might say, in hopes of placating the young priest.
Father Min’s brows narrow even more.
“Hyung,” Hoseok mutters low out of the corner of his mouth, nudging Seokjin in the ribs. He sounds like he’s warning a petulant child to be on their best behavior.
This all pleases Seokjin indefinitely. “I know, I know. No taunting the ghosts.” He raises his hands in the air, then clasps them together on his right knee. He nods seriously. Then, after a second thought, he nods again, just to show how Serious he really is.
"This is serious, child," Father Min warns, tone stern, arching an eyebrow. "Demons are dangerous beings, and messing around with them is not recommended."
Seokjin says, somber, "it's okay, Father, I can defend myself. I've taken about three and a half boxing classes."
Father Min looks like he himself was ready to put any boxing skills to use on Seokjin when Hoseok pipes up, trying to defuse the tension.
"Uh, actually, Father - I was wondering if you can maybe bless something?"
Mercifully, Father Min rests his piercing gaze now on Hoseok. He actually smiles when he replies, "of course, child, what do you want me to bless?"
Before Hoseok gets the chance to reply, Seokjin perks up. Ignoring Hoseok's wary stare, he retrieves a bottle of clear fluid. “Can you bless this, Father?”
“Mineral water? Of course.”
Father Min starts chanting and murmuring, and Hoseok shuffles closer on the bench, ducks his head way too close next to Seokjin’s ear. Hoseok’s lips very nearly graze when he asks, strained, “that’s not water, is it, hyung?”
Seokjin slightly turns his chin towards Hoseok, so he’s speaking to the younger’s cheek. “Of course it is, Seok-ah. Don’t you trust me?” They’re so close together now it’s disarming. He can feel warmth start gathering under his skin, pooling in his stomach.
Just as Hoseok pulls back, a grimace on his face, muttering not really under his breath, Father Min finishes his blessing and hands the bottle back to Seokjin’s waiting hands.
When they get back to the car, Hoseok having profusely thanked Father Min and Seokjin promising again that he is not going to incite the ghosts’ wrath, I legally bind this verbal contract in the presence of Jesus, Seokjin packs up the not-water bottle into their bag.
“You just made a priest bless a bottle of vodka.”
Seokjin looks over to a disbelieving Hoseok, sitting in the driver’s seat. He watches the younger carefully for any signs of potential simultaneous, multi-cellular combustion.
It’s probably a good time to say that Seokjin’s not that good with biology, either.
"Why do you – why do you have that on you anyway?"
Seokjin just shrugs. "I thought we could use some, uh, fun times. You know." He makes grabby hands meant to be scary ghost gestures. "For if the ghosts want to party with us, too, or whatever."
“Huh. Okay. I guess I have to hand it to you, hyung,” Hoseok says at last, sounding a little faint, like he’s about to wheeze. “That was nuts.”
Grinning, Seokjin leans back in his seat, shrugging an overly-casual shoulder, trying his best to act as if pissing off a priest and making him bless a bottle of vodka all in the span of an hour is a Normal Everyday Occurrence.
But then he makes eye contact with Hoseok – Hoseok, his best friend with the lovely, lovely eye-smiles and genuine warmth weighing Seokjin's lungs down into the deepest of tides, Hoseok who never seems to make Seokjin feel any less, makes him feel like how he is now is just enough – and they both burst out into giggles and hoots.
Laughter, ghost-hunting, road trips and easy jokes and sleeping side-by-side in haunted rooms. That's how it goes with them.
So, yeah.
Seokjin thinks he couldn't possibly want anything more than this, here, now – couldn’t ask for anything more from Hoseok, ever.