Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's a sweltering Monday night. Jeongguk's just minding his own business, silently doing homework like any normal person would, when he feels a chill run up his spine.

Jeongguk sets his pen down and sighs. He reaches for the hoodie strung against the back of his chair and dons it on with the practiced motions of someone who's gone through this way too many times before.

As he continues to write, the temperature continues to drop lower and lower, cooling the sweat on his brow and his damp back. At least ghost hauntings make up for his lack of AC.

He hears a whooshing of air close to his ear and pulls the zipper on his sweater up higher.

It's one of those persistent ones, which is annoying, but Jeongguk's glad that it's at least not making the lights go all wild. He has an exam in two days' time and can't afford that kind of distraction.

With one hand on his pen, Jeongguk reaches for the salt shaker on his table. He sprinkles it in a swooping motion around his books, then swivels on his office chair to connect the line of the circle, all the while keeping his eyes glued to the reference book in his lap.

He turns back to his desk and sets the salt down calmly. Sweeping his room every night is a bother, but it's the better alternative to all of his stuff levitating off the table.

Just as he's about to continue writing, he hears a noise like footsteps behind him.

"Crap," he mutters to himself, losing the count for the equation on his paper due to the repetitive thud-thud-thud. He starts to count again and hears a particularly loud noise, almost like someone tripping over their feet, which throws him off the count again.

Jeongguk gives a long exhale and slams his pen down onto the desk.

"I had to stop using a calculator because of you guys,” he speaks out into the empty air. “You could at least have the basic decency to stay quiet while I count."

The noise comes to a sudden, almost bemused halt.

"Thanks."

Jeongguk counts out loud.

"'kay, I'm done," he says, reaching for his pen in order to scribble down the result. It's not there.

Further investigation shows a scattered line of salt and Jeongguk figures that it must've rolled out of the circle and is now gone forever.

"Just so you know," Jeongguk intones, picking up another pen from his case. "I've had this trick pulled on me a dozen times. It's not funny or interesting anymore."

A clattering sound, like something was suddenly dropped.

"If the tip broke, I'm gonna be seriously upset," he mumbles distractedly, his mind engrossed in numbers. There's a light draft blowing behind his back, which is mildly disconcerting, but Jeongguk is willing to ignore it if it doesn't escalate in any way.

"Huuuaaaaagh," comes a comically gravely noise, from what sounds like a safe distance away.

Jeongguk flinches, dropping his second pencil. It's rare that he ever gets to hear actual noises during these hauntings. He's not too concerned by it, though. 

What does concern him, however, is the pencil with a now broken tip by his feet. To someone, it might seem like something insignificant, but Jeongguk is not just someone. Jeongguk is a someone who once got an F on an assignment because a ghost chucked it out of the window during rain and he didn't have the time to redo it. What was he going to say, really? A ghost ate my homework?

And that's not the end of his troubles. Malfunctioning electronics, ripped sheets, missing stationary supplies – Jeongguk’s been through it all. On top of all of this, he's sleep-deprived, mildly hungry, and he's lost the goddamn count for the third time.

Jeongguk reaches for his candle and lighter. He holds the items in his hands like weapons and swivels his chair around.

"Listen, you-"

His words cut off as his eyes zero in on a person, standing at the outside edge of his makeshift salt circle, palms held up like they're being held at gun point.

They stare at each other for a short moment before Jeongguk flicks his lighter and brings it close to the fuse. The flame trembles in his shaky hands, the freezing atmosphere in the room washing over his body and making his fingers go numb.

"What are you?" he challenges with more confidence than he actually feels. "What do you want from me?"

The thing in the middle of his room blanches and lowers its hands slowly. It keeps staring at him without moving at all, looking completely material, from the hem of its washed-out jeans to its round cheeks and wide-eyes. It's absolutely terrifying.

"Answer me," Jeongguk warns, the wheel of the lighter starting to get uncomfortably hot. "Right now, or I'm exorcising you."

"I'm not a demon," it says, voice human and boyish, carrying a slightly offended tone.

The heat is scalding on Jeongguk’s skin by now but he's afraid that this thing is going to burst through his flimsy salt defence if he turns the lighter off for a single second.

"Whatever you are," Jeongguk pushes, unable to stop his voice from coming out thin and trembling. "Get out and don't come back. I learned the Latin chants."

"Latin doesn't - wait." Its eyes boggle even wider. "You can hear me?"

Jeongguk grits his teeth, sweat gathering on his temples. The heat is too much to handle but he's scared of just lighting the candle and having it turn the thing vengeful. It doesn't look too scary right now, but Jeongguk doesn't trust anything that has an aversion to human spices.

"Hey." It pouts, Jeongguk swears it does. "Was I wrong after all?"

Before the fire goes out, Jeongguk makes a flip decision and lights the candle. The thing's face crumples in confusion as it squints at the candle in Jeongguk's hand.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immunde spiritus-" Jeongguk mumbles, clutching the wax so hard he feels it give under his fingers.

It wrinkles its nose. "Hey, what's that you got in your hand? Stinks like hell."  It chuckles then. "Well, not like hell, but yeah."

Jeongguk starts reciting louder and faster.

"That's not gonna work, I told you," the thing tells him again.

"It will," Jeongguk mutters back, quietly praying that his words don't just turn out to be a bluff. "Apage sotonas."

"Hey, so you do hear me!" it says, inching closer to the edge of his salt circle. Jeongguk thrusts the candle in the direction of its face and it moves back with a small yelp.

"It burns," it whines, rubbing at its eyes. "C'mon, turn it off."

"What are you?" Jeongguk persists. "Why do you look so - tangible?"

"Look?" it mutters gruffly, lowering its hands from its eyes. It blinks and gives Jeongguk a bloodshot stare. "Wait. You  - You can see me!"

It lifts his hand and Jeongguk panics, grabbing his salt shaker and spraying it towards the thing before it can claw his eyes out. At the same time, the thing shrieks so loudly that every muscle in Jeongguk’s ass clenches in sheer terror. He gives a yell of his own and the thing jumps and screams again, cradling its hand.

"What are you yelling for?" it demands tearfully. "Your stupid salt burned-”

"Get out of my house!" Jeongguk bellows, jumping to his feet, tapping into his adrenaline rush. "Get out right now! You stupid, goddamn demon-"

"Jeonggukie?" he hears from downstairs. "Are you alright?"

Jeongguk clears his throat. "Yeah, mom! I'm fine!"

“Alright!” he hears from downstairs.

He turns his head back to the thing to furiously (but quietly) command it to leave but finds nothing of what was standing there.

Carefully, the salt shaker in his hand, he sprinkles it around himself as he moves closer to the spot. On further inspection he finds a little bundle of strange looking dust on the floor.

“Ew.”

He sweeps it up and tosses it into the bin under the desk.

"Gross," he mutters, dusting his hands.  

Before he goes to sleep, Jeongguk sprinkles salt all over his bed and keeps a candle lit on the bedside table. No one is stealing his homework tonight.

Chapter Text

"You're really unfriendly, aren't you?"

Jeongguk puts his phone down and sits up on the bed. A glance around his room finds the thing getting comfortable on top of his closet, the only place that he couldn't reach with salt.

Jeongguk takes out a lighter from his pocket and starts to light up the six candles lined up on his coffee table.

"I think I should take that as a yes."

Jeongguk finishes the work and goes back to the screen of his phone, which is now flashing neon-bright colours,  the words glitching out randomly.

"You know, it can't be healthy, sitting in the middle of all of that smoke," the thing rasps.

"Choke," Jeongguk squeezes out, squinting to see the screen through blurry eyes.

"That's terrible." It coughs. "I haven't even done anything to you."

"Except-" Jeongguk wheezes. "Invade my room."

It scoffs and immediately transitions into coughing.

"Not really - my fault. Your room's like a - a magnet."

“A - what?"

"Interested?" The thing sits straight up, its face clipping through the ceiling like a bad videogame glitch. "I can tell you."

"No thanks," Jeongguk says, any desire he might have had of conversing with the thing disappearing along with its head.

"Really?" It coughs. "You'll never get rid of the hauntings like this, y'know."

"I couldn't care less about the hauntings, I just want you to go away." Jeongguk bites back, leaving the gust of smoke by the bed for some slightly more breathable air by his desk.

The thing leans forward, face passing through the ceiling to gaze down at him with an affable expression.

"See- those two... go hand in hand... Also – I'm -" he pauses to cough. “My name… is… Jimin…”

"Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo..." Jeongguk hums, following the bouncing letters on his screen absent-mindedly.

"I'll... be back..." the thing says before fading out, leaving the words hanging in the air like an ill omen.

Jeongguk jumps onto his feet, blows the candles out and opens the window as wide as possible before his mom sees smoke coming out of his room.

"Nice and steamy in here. You know, salt doesn't work if you mix it into a bath."

Jeongguk calmly picks his salt shaker and reinforces the wall of salt on the edges of his tub.

"Get the hell out, pervert."

"Oh, you said the 'h' word!" the thing presses a hand to its mouth. "I'll call Lucifer hyung to come get you now!"

Jeongguk’s hand stills and he shoots the thing a furious glare. It chortles and crosses its legs over, sitting on the top of the toilet seat like it's a chair for a prince.

"Just – kidding,” it drawls out playfully. “I told you, I'm not a demon.”

"Then what are you?"

“I’m Jimin!” it leans forward, grinning candidly. "If you'd like to, I can tell you all about-"

"Nope," Jeongguk sets his shaker back down and leans his head against the back of the tub, closing his eyes.

It's silent in the bathroom long enough for Jeongguk to hope that it picked up a hint and left already, but - no cigar.

"Feels like the water is hot. Is it?"

"Get out."

“Or is it lukewarm? I like lukewarm water, myself.”

“You don’t like anything. You’re dead.”

“Well. I was alive once.”

A moment of silence. It's really simple logic, but it hits Jeongguk like a slap in the face. The ghost looks young, too, somewhere around his age, or maybe a little older. They might have gone to the same class if things were different.

Jeongguk feels a headache setting in as soon as the thought hits him. He really, really doesn't have time for this.

He squints through his eyelashes, trying to sneak a peek at the ghost on his toilet without getting caught.

He gets caught, of course.

The ghost meets his eyes and gives him a crook of its head.  Round cheeks, straight, wheat bleached hair, a glimmer in its slanted eyes. "So, did it work? Feel sorry for me yet?”

“Get out,” Jeongguk repeats. It lacks the proper bite so he adds on: “Get the – get the heck out.”

“Heck?” it gives a delighted laugh. “Y’know, I was just teasing you. The big D can’t really come out if you say hell and stuff.”

“I - I know,” Jeongguk bristles. “Now get out.”

“Aw." The ghost stands up and gives him a crooked smile. “That almost sounds like ‘stay here forever’.”

“Get ou-!”

In the next moment, it’s gone.

Jeongguk halts, the rest of his shout turning into a small, breathy exhale. The seed is planted and thoughts brew in his head, and even after finishing his bath, he isn't able to relax for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

“Are you really not a demon?” Jeongguk asks with his arms crossed over when the ghost materializes in a small clear circle in the middle of his room. Jeongguk appraises its attire more closely - washed out jeans ripped over the knees and a green sweater, the colour vivid and real. It's skinny. Pretty short, too.

“Oh,” it says gallantly and Jeongguk snaps his eyes up. “Were you waiting for me?”

He was about to feel embarrassed over staring so obviously, but the infuriating question whisks any bashfulness right out of him. He glares at the ghost mutely.

The ghost mimics sighing.  “Yes, I’m really not. I told you that, like, a lot.”

“So why aren’t you invisible or at least transparent?”

The ghost shrugs. “Dunno.”

Jeongguk silently points to the candles lining the circle around the ghost. It follows his finger and looks up with a toothy grin.

“Came prepared, didn’t you? All guns out.”

“I won’t have to use it if you just fess up.”

“Sure I will, but not for free.”

“Funny that you think you’re in any position to bargain.”

“Well, if we’re being like that,” the ghost leans away, crossing its arms over. “As far as I can tell, your entire house isn’t salt proofed, is it?”

Jeongguk scowls. “Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not,” the ghost rolls its eyes. “I’m just proposing a simple, small, itsy-bitsy deal.”

“So, you’re threatening me.”

“There’s really no need to put it like that,” the ghost puts on a conciliatory tone that Jeongguk immediately feels distrustful towards. “I won’t ask for the blood of a virgin or anything – not a demon, remember?”

“I didn’t say you would,” Jeongguk says suspiciously.

“I just need you to do some detective work for me,” it continues smoothly. “Really, it will be fun for the both of us. Fun for the whole family!”

“You’re not going anywhere near my family,” Jeongguk bites back, a threatening edge creeping into his tone.

“Who says?” the ghost gives an uncanny smile.

Jeongguk takes a step forward and the ghost raises its hands in defeat again.

“Hey, hey." It gives a laugh, and its face looks eerily human. Wide cheeks, a hint of alarm in its eyes. “Just kidding.”

“Well,” Jeongguk says haltingly, feeling off-kilter. “Your joke fucking sucks.”

“Or you just don’t have a sense of humor?”

Jeongguk takes another step forward and it mimics a huff.

“Okay, fine, I’m done.”

“You’re done talking?” Jeongguk widens his eyes in mock astonishment. “I’ll mark that on my calendar.”

“You should." The ghost beams widely. “It’s the day you actually tried to make a joke.”

Jeongguk halts, looking at the ghost. Carefully, “For a dead person, you sure talk back a lot.”

“Nothing to do with me being dead,” the ghosts says smoothly. “You’re alive, and yet you’re about as fun as a literal corpse.”

Before Jeongguk can get seriously ticked off, the ghost continues on to say: “What I mean is, I was probably just like that before I, y’know. I kicked the bucket.”

Jeongguk halts mid-comeback. “Stop trying to guilt-trip me. It won’t work.”

“Oh?” The ghost gives him a sincere look. “I really wasn’t, though?”

 Jeongguk grits his teeth harder and tries to look away in a surreptitious manner.

“So, tell me,” the ghost asks, tone unaffected. “You really haven’t talked to a ghost before?”

“What’s it to you?”

The ghost clucks its tongue, a little reproachful as he says, “Hey, I’m just curious. This is a first for me, too.”

There's vulnerability there. Even Jeongguk can tell. The fact that it makes him feels bad only makes him angrier, and he lets it show as he glares at the ghost. “No, I haven’t. Fine?”

“Hm,” the ghost’s voice brightens up suddenly. “Hey, I should bring my friends over. They don't get a lot of chances to talk to living people!”

“No more ghosts,” Jeongguk interjects. Instead of his words discouraging the ghost, it only seems to serve to make it more satisfied.

“Aw, sure," it says, leaning back and looking at Jeongguk under its eyelashes. An almost salacious smile spreads over its features. "It's gonna be just the two of us."

“Stop that," Jeongguk frowns in distaste. "You're... you're being gross.”

The ghost laughs. "Gross? Why?"

"Because, you... you're insinuating..."

"I am?" The ghost raises its eyebrows in innocent surprise. "Aren't you reading into things a bit too much?"

“Who’s... reading into stuff,” Jeongguk grits out. “With a ghost…”

“You’re saying like it’s impossible. You know that movie, what’s it called,” the ghost ponders, snapping its fingers. “Oh, right! Scary Movie, though I don’t remember which one. It had that one scene, literally banging on the-”

“I haven’t seen it,” Jeongguk interrupts sharply.

“Well, I think you really should." The ghost gives him an earnest look. “I think it’ll be very educational.”

“Get out.”

The ghost raises its hands again, laughing in earnest. Jeongguk takes his lighter out and steps closer.

“And that’s my cue to go,” it announces, grinning widely. “Oh, and-”

The ghost halts, giving him a grin loaded with meaning. “Watch the movie. Don’t end up a demon sacrifice."                               

Jeongguk chucks the lighter through its immaterial body right as it disappears. It hits the wall with a loud clang and falls apart.

Jeongguk feels like it’s a pretty apt metaphor for his life.

Chapter Text

“So, did you watch the movie yet?”

“Don’t bother me,” Jeongguk says, ignoring the smiling face in his peripheral vision. “I’m busy.”

“Aren’t you just on your phone, though?”

Jenogguk sends the ghost a sideways glare.  As soon as their eyes meet, it flashes him a big beam.

“Aw, c’mon.”

“No.”

The ghost juts out its lower lip, crossing its arms over in an eerie attempt for cutesiness. “Since you’re so boring, I guess I’ll just call Hobi over.”

“Don’t you dare bring your demon friends,” Jeongguk warns the ghost.

“Why not? We could have a whole party and everything, it would be great!”

“What would be great for me is if you could just leave me alone right now.”

“Honestly, what kind of a friend would I be if I did that? You’re always sitting alone in this dim room, all bored and lonely-”

“First of all, you’re not my friend. Second of all, butt out of my business.”

“Aha!” the ghost lifts a single finger, eyes twinkling. “You didn’t say you weren’t lonely.”

“I’m not lonely,” Jeongguk retorts, flipping over to his side so that his back is turned to the ghost. “There.”

“Hmmm,” the ghost drags out jovially. “You’re being friendlier today than usual.”

Jeongguk ignores the ghost’s comment, pretending that he's reading the jumbled text on his phone.

“I think you saw the movie. I think you liked it.”

“I think you should shut up,” Jeongguk bites out, angrily jabbing at the white screen of death.

“Suspicious,” the ghost practically sings out.

“You’re suspicious, you – you perverted demon,” Jeongguk blurts out, the screen now black, striped with neon green and yellow lines.

The ghost lets out a high-pitched laugh. “Did you… did you just call me a perverted demon?”

“Why?” Jeongguk challenges acidly. “Gonna do something about it?”

“Well. Only if you’re into it.”

Jeongguk sits up quickly and brandishes his pillow as a sword. “I’m going to beat your ghost ass if you don’t get out right now.”

The ghost laughs. “Or we could do it that way, I’m versatile.”

“Goodbye,” Jeongguk squeezes out, picking up his phone and feigning to read again.

“Aw. You’re not that feisty today. I was hoping you’d try to throw something at me again.”

Jeongguk doesn’t grace the ghost with an answer.

“Well, never mind. Oh, and also. I almost forgot, but, happy birthday! You’re a real big guy now, twenty one and all! Cool!”

Jeongguk stills. He looks up and finds the ghost sporting a smile on its face.

“Sorry, I didn’t get you a present, but you’ll just have to do with my sincere wishes,” the ghost waves. “Well, gotta go. Catch you later, birthday boy!”

“Wait, how-” Jeongguk starts, and the ghost vanishes with one final chuckle.

Jeongguk stares at the place where the ghost was a moment before. He throws a look at the annotations bar on his now functional mobile  – no new messages. His phone reads 01:30, 1/09.

Suddenly exhausted, Jeongguk puts his phone down and lays his head down on his pillow. It takes him a while to fall asleep but when he does, he dreams of marble beads and cotton on his skin.

Chapter Text

“You didn’t salt-proof your room this time,” the ghost says cheerfully, perched on the edge of his table.

“How do you know when my birthday is? And how old I am?”

The ghost shrugs. “Had a feeling, is all.”

“And you don’t think it’s weird at all? That you just had a feeling?”

“Sure I do,” the ghost says amicably. “There are a lot of weird things about you. That’s why I’ve been coming over all of the time.”

“About me?” Jeongguk presses the pen harder into the paper. “That’s rich, coming from a ghost.”

“And you’re talking to the ghost. Wouldn’t you like to know why?”

“I would. I’d just rather the process didn’t involve you.”

“Aw, c’mon. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve such antagonism.”

Jeongguk frowns and puts his pencil down. “Well, for starters, you appear whenever you want and wherever you want, you intrude on my privacy and you keep making these – inappropriate comments -”

The ghosts laughs. “What, are you actually getting flustered?”

“No, it’s just – it’s annoying and – stop looking at me like that.”

“Hmmm,” the ghost rests his chin on his hand and looks at him knowingly. “Like what?”

“Stop it. Stop talking like - that.”

“I can’t look at you, I can’t talk. Is there anything I can do?”

“You could shut up. For once.”

The ghost smiles. “You know, for all of your prickliness and general Edward Cullen-ness, I have to say that I don’t dislike you.”

“A weirdo and a masochist. Got any more to add to the creeper list?”

The ghost laughs. “Damn, that one tickled my masochistic bone.”

“Will you just stop,” Jeongguk deadpans. There’s something tugging at the corner of his lips. It’s tiny and it’s more like a minute twitch of his nerve ends but it’s there and it’s freaking him out.

“Hey, look. For real now,” the ghost puts his hands down and gives Jeongguk a serious look. Jeongguk doesn’t want to see the span of his emotions, doesn’t want him to seem more human than he already does, and yet–

“If we set up a time when I could come, just to talk a little and try to figure things out, would that be okay?” he takes a breath, soundlessly. “If you’re really annoyed by all of my– shit talk, or whatever, I swear I’ll stop that. I didn’t mean any offense, I was just – I don’t know.”

The ghost frowns at his lap. “Not to get fake deep or emo, but yeah, I just want the whole wandering around without a real body and existing but-not-really to be over. It’d be cool if you could help me out.” He looks up and gives Jeongguk an awkward smile. “So… what do you think?”

Jeongguk stares back at him, at a loss for words. The ghost fiddles his fingers and shifts in an uneasy sort of manner.

“If I said no… you’d actually leave?”

The ghost flinches, face shifting into a grimace. “I mean… I guess if you really hated me that much. There’s no actual reason to stick around.”

Jeongguk studies his face. The ghost shuffles in his seat, eyes darting to Jeongguk's just to look away again, fitfully.

He's making a mistake. This is a mistake.

He's all too painfully aware of it, yet he still listens to his own voice, saying,  “Three times a week, eight p.m. on the clock, twenty minutes tops. That's all you're gonna get."

“That’s-” the ghost gives him a smile, warm, honest. Jeongguk hates it. “That’s so great, I – thank you, really.”

“Yeah, well,” Jeongguk grumbles, eyes darting around the room but coming back to his smiling face. “Like you said, it’s not like it’s only a good thing for you.”

“Right, yeah. See, I knew you could be reasonable-”

Jeongguk gives him a sharp look, and the ghost mimics zipping his smiling mouth shut.

“Right. On my best behavior. Nothing humorous or vaguely flirtatious will ever escape my lips again.”

“You can start now,” Jeongguk mumbles and looks away.

They sit in silence for a solid minute or two, until Jeongguk realizes that he can’t really concentrate with someone looking over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” the ghost says, smiling at him cheerfully. “I’m just trying to be inconspicuous and the opposite of annoying.”

Jeongguk gives a noisy exhale. “I didn’t mean to forbid you from talking. How are we even supposed to figure anything out if you’re just sitting here like a statue?”

“Hey, I don’t know. Wait a sec, is this included in the visits quota?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I figure I should get a trial period, even those infomercials give you the option to refun- oh, right, sorry. Nothing funny, I’m quiet.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“Your eyes were, though. You’ve got a scary pair of eyebrows, did anyone tell you that? They’re all like, y’know, v-shaped and everything.”

“Like Edward Cullen? Feels like I’ve heard that before.”

“Oh, right,” the ghost laughs, then halts immediately. “Wait, is this alright?”

Jeongguk scowls. “Are you going to be asking me that for everything you say now?” 

“Do you not want me to? I just…" The ghost looks at him uncertainly, worrying his lower lip. "I wanted to be sure.”

Jeongguk holds back an exasperated sigh.

“Just go back to how you were, alright? Just maybe a bit… less.”

“How much less? Are we talking, like, five percent bit or like, ten-”

“Figure – it – out.”

The ghosts stops for a beat. “You know, you’re being really nice. My mom always told me that being sensitive and in touch with your feelings worked with girls, but I didn’t really think it would work that well-”

“You’re about at a hundred right now? I’m going to need you at a fifty, tops.”

“You think this is my hundred?” the ghost grins. “Dude, you haven’t seen me when I really go off-” he catches a glimpse of Jeongguk’s face and tapers down on the enthusiasm. “Not that you ever will, of course, yeah. Fifty, that’s cool. I’ll spare your eyebrows the workout.”

Jeongguk consciously relaxes his facial expression and realizes that he has indeed been scowling the whole time. This might be why the kids at the school give him weird looks - he's not even angry.

“Anyway, has it been twenty minutes yet?”

The question catches Jeongguk by surprise. “Uh, I guess so? I wasn’t really checking the clock, or anything.”

The ghost nods cordially. “To keep the goodwill, I’ll leave a bit earlier today." He jumps down from the table and grins. "Thank you, Kookie. You won’t regret it.”

Jeongguk feels an instantaneous cold rush down his spine. The ghost raises his eyebrows and gives him a slightly concerned once-over.

“Hey, you feeling alright? You're looking kinda pale all of a sudden.”

“What – what did you just call me?”

"Huh? The ghost gives him a startled look. “Did I call you something?”

“Yeah, you said - Kookie. That’s what you said, just now.”

“Huh. It must’ve just… slipped out,” his eyes widen and he leans closer. “Why? Did you think of something?"

“It just… it feels kind of..." Jeongguk trails off as realization hits him with a flash. He looks at the ghost firmly. "I haven't even told you my actual name. So how could you just make up a nickname like that?"

“Hey.” The ghost raises his hands. “I’m as clueless as you on that one.”

Jeongguk bites on the nail on his thumb, his stomach churning. He has a very funny feeling all of a sudden, and the fact that he can't place it at all makes it worse.

“Hey,” the ghost starts, voice low and gentle. “I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of it, yeah? We’re partners now, so you don’t have to worry about it alone!” The ghost’s smile fades at Jeongguk’s expression. “Aw, did I overdo it again?”

Jeongguk swallows and takes his already gnawed-out nail out of his mouth. “It’s fine. I – thank you.”

The ghost blinks, looking so shocked that it's almost a bit offensive. “Ah, that’s… yeah. Uh. Don’t worry about it.” He looks to his hands, still a bit wide eyed. As if talking to himself, he mutters: “Damn. My mom was so right.”

Jeongguk huffs quickly through his nose. If he wasn’t so worried, he thinks he would have probably laughed. He doesn't think he's felt like laughing for a long time now.

“My name is Jeongguk," he says quickly, wanting to dispel the thought as soon as possible. "You can just call me that.”

The ghost looks at him with an expression that makes Jeongguk think he’s about to say something embarrassing again, but instead he goes: “Aw, but I prefer Kookie?”

Jeongguk levels a hand in the space between them. “Fifty.”

“Right, fifty. Not sixty, though? Fifty five?”

“Nope.”

“Aw. ‘Kay. I’ll be going now. Oh, and, I don’t know how old I am, but I’m pretty sure you can’t be older than me? Since you’re so baby faced. See you Thursday, Jeonggukie!”

“You-” Jeongguk blinks and he’s gone. He’s never not going to get tripped up by that.

Anyway, if anyone’s baby faced, it’s him, with the roundish cheeks and puffy lips.

“Stupid,” Jeongguk mumbles into his chin. He thinks he sounds a bit like a protagonist of some anime.

And not even the cool ones.

Chapter Text

 “Hello,” Jeongguk hears behind him and jumps a little. His pencil is about to fall down when it moves back into place smoothly, counter to the laws of gravity.

He looks to his side and finds the ghost, Jimin, standing by the desk. He looks the same today as always, ruffled bleached hair and green sweater, and it shouldn’t be a surprise to Jeongguk but it somehow is.

“Is - Is it that time already?”

He checks the analogue clock ticking on the wall and – lo and behold – it’s eight sharp. He must’ve gotten absorbed in homework.

“What, did I miscalculate?”

“No, you’re alright. I kinda – undercalculated, I guess,” Jeongguk closes his textbook and lays his pencil by its side.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Nothing. How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Move the pencil.”

“It’s my ghostly voodoo-doodoo magic. Or, no, wait,” Jimin grins in a way that tips Jeongguk off to the fact that he’s about to exceed fifty with a leaping bound. And it’s only been a minute. “It’s my perverted demon magic. That’s how I get all the cute boys, I move their pens. Oh and also, it's called an incubus? If you didn’t know.”

“Did you ask your weird demon friends that? You’re being extra again, by the way.”

“You know, I actually looked into it. Not the incubus thing, but the percentage and all? Usually a five percent deviation is allowed, so I think I’ll just comfortably hover around fifty-five. If that’s alright with you.”

“That’s not how you do percentages. And besides, that wasn’t a fifty-five, at all.”

“Why?” Jimin crosses his arms over and cocks his head to the side. “Is it because I called you cute?”

“That’s – no.”

"Sure, Jeonggukie."

Jeongguk frowns and then makes an effort to smoothen his angry eyebrows. He’s not flustered. He’s never flustered.  Just because they're on a first-name basis now doesn’t make Jimin any less of a ghost than he was before. Neither does him looking at Jeongguk like there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

“You- You said you’d come over here to talk about useful things. This isn’t useful."

“It’s useful enough for me,” Jimin quips. “Putting that aside, I do have a question for you.”

“Yeah?”

“How long has it been that you’re able to see ghosts?”

Jeongguk thinks for a moment.

"Um. It's kind of hard to tell."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, because I thought I was imaging it at first. It's not until I realized that the meds weren't working that-" he cuts off, only realizing what he was talking about when he sees Jimin's eyes going sharp.

"Uh. About three years," he finishes awkwardly.

Jimin looks at him longer, and Jeongguk knows that he's thinking about how to ask, pry into his business, and he grasps for a curt response when Jimin turns his head away and mumbles,  “Three years, huh."

"What?"

"Nothing," Jimin replies quickly. "Just that, y'know. That's a pretty long time."

"I... guess." Jeongguk gives him a confused look. Jimin glances at him again and gives him a smile so soft it makes Jeongguk's stomach somersault. Startled by his body's reaction, he blurts out the first thing on his mind.

“Do you remember when you...?” 

“When I...? Oh, died?" The bluntness of it makes Jeongguk frown, and Jimin smiles. "Nope, not a thing. Just that it hurt like a bitch.” His smile widens. “Oh, well, it wasn’t that bad, probably. It was over quickly, at least – that’s what I can remember.”

“That - That sounds like when the doctors tell you when they’re going to prick your finger and it's not going to be that bad but it always is.”

Jimin halts, then bursts into a tinkling laughter. “That’s a cute way to put it. Death from blood drawing. Plausible.”

They sit in silence for a beat or two, then Jeongguk asks what was niggling at him all this time. “Was there a reason why you asked that, before?”

“Nah,” Jimin quirks his mouth to the side. “Well, maybe.”

Jeongguk waits for him to continue but he doesn’t. Instead, he backs up a step and spreads his arms out.

“So, do I look familiar to you at all? Y’know, anything at all?”

His eyebrows are arched upwards, eyes playfully wide. Thick lips, smiling now, one of his front teeth crooked. It's not so much a handsome face as charming, especially when he smiles. The thought flusters Jeongguk, and he's about to look away when, with a nervous smile, Jimin ducks his head.

 "Uh. You looked really intense just now." Jimin mumbles, and Jeongguk doesn't think that he's imagining his bashful tone.

"I... I was thinking." It's only half a lie.

"And?"

“N-No. I don’t remember meeting you. Do - did you live here?”

Jimin lets his arms drop. They make no sound when they meet his sides.

“Can’t recall," Jimin peeks up at him, then smiles, seemingly encouraged by whatever he sees on Jeongguk's face. "Really, I can’t remember anything at all about myself. Except for my name, obviously. But I seem to remember things about you."

“That sucks."

Jimin looks surprised and then gives a quick smile.

“Nah, at least I remember something. Some of the guys down there don’t.”

“Down there?”

“Well,” Jimin drums the fingers of his left hand on top of his knee. His fingers are short, a bit chubby, decked with three silver rings. “You know. There.”

“What... what does there look like?”

Two of them are thick and metallic, on his thumb and index, while the one on his little finger is intricately engraved. Jeongguk looks away when Jimin pulls the cuff of his sweater over his hand.

“I actually - don’t think it’s good if we talk too much about this. Especially if you don’t want to be connected with the, ah, ghostly crap anymore.”

“Yeah. Guess so,” Jeongguk agrees quietly, even though he's still curious. While he’s thinking it over, Jimin moves back to the table, propping himself up to sit on the edge. On closer inspection, Jeongguk realizes that he’s not really sitting, just floating very closely to the surface. It’s uncanny to look at, so he looks up at Jimin's amicable expression.

“But just because you don’t recognize me doesn’t mean that we’ve never met. You might’ve just forgotten me.”

“You think?” Jeongguk voices out sceptically. “Well. I don’t think I would’ve forgotten you.”

Jimin gives him a long look. It puzzles Jeongguk, at first, then he realizes what he just blurted out and a wave of heat rushes to his face.

“I mean – just because – well, you’re really, kind of, extra or whatever, so I don’t think I would’ve just – that easily...”

Jimin gives a slow smile and looks away, and Jeongguk’s words unravel and settle into a silence.

“Nah, you’re probably right. I don’t know.”

Jeongguk has a sudden thought. “There is one thing, though. I asked my mom about the whole Kookie thing. Seems like that was my nickname back when I was at Busan. Everyone used to call me that.”

“Busan?” he says it sharply.

 “Yeah, used to live there up until I was, like, five. Then we moved because dad got a job and yeah. Stuff.”

Jeongguk glances at Jimin, expecting a reply, but he's looking straight at the wall, eyes a little glazed over.

"Um... Jimin?"

"Huh?" Jimin flinches, looks at him wide-eyed. He doesn't say anything for a couple of moments, just holds his gaze with an unusually sharp expression.

"You alright?"

"Oh," Jimin blinks and his eyes go softer, more alike his usual demeanour, but there's still an edge to the curve of his lips. "Sorry. I kind of... spaced out."

"You okay?"

Jimin gives a faint smile. "Yeah. Just that, it kinda... jostled something in my head. I just can't get it out completely."

"Are... Were you from Busan?"

"Possibly," Jimin taps his chin, awkwardly, and Jeongguk gets a feeling that he's trying to avoid the subject. “So, uh, technically, if you had met me in Busan, you might have forgotten, yeah? Since you were a kid then.”

“Well, I guess."

"Huh," Jimin scratches the back of his neck, then runs a hand through his hair, dishevelling it. “I need to think about it.” He turns to Jeongguk and halts for a second before speaking again. “I was wondering, would it be okay if I brought someone with me next time? He's got a pretty strong presence so I'm curious whether you'll be able to talk to him.”

Jeongguk screws his lips and thinks for a moment.

“He’s okay, I swear. Mostly he just wants to sleep. That’s probably why he still hasn’t gotten out yet, because he can’t be bothered to try.”

“Relatable.”

Jimin cracks a smile. “Yeah. So, it’s fine, yeah?”

“Ah. Yeah, alright. I guess so. I’m going to take some precautions though.”

“Okay, that’s cool. Just don’t get the salt too close to him. That stuff sucks so bad, really.”

“Oh, really?” Jeongguk remembers that one time, the first day when he popped up, how he reached for him when he was in the circle – “Hey.  Did you get hurt back then?”

“Back when?”

“When you first – appeared?”

“Oh,” Jimin gives an unconvincing smile. “It’s fine. That was my bad, really. I shouldn’t have tried to touch you. Groping is never cool, even when you’re a ghost and there's, like, a really cute guy. Consent, and everything.” As he’s babbling, Jimin pulls his right sweater sleeve lower.

“Let me see,” Jeongguk insists.

“It’s fine, really.” Jimin fiddles with his sleeve. “Really.”

“No, really, let me see.” Jeongguk reaches forward, as if to take him by the hand. Suddenly, his fingers pass through Jimin’s wrist, with a plunging sensation like he dipped it in a cold bucket of water.

Jeongguk jerks his hand back, getting a cold shower in every sense of the word. Jimin gives him a resigned look and Jeongguk struggles, a moment too late, to school his expression back into indifference.

“I’m – sorry,” Jeongguk breathes. “I didn’t mean to-”

“We’re cool.” Jimin pauses for a moment. “Sorry I scared you again.”

“No, you didn't! It's just...” Jeongguk doesn’t know why he feels so weird all of the sudden. He clenches his jaw and tries again. “I was too pushy."

“Oh my god, a stubborn guy and a pushy guy, we’re such a good match,” Jimin says with a smile. The words settle in between them, the amicable implication. It does nothing to unravel the knot in Jeongguk’s stomach, and it must show on his face because Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Aw, man, ease up." Jimin pushes his sleeve upwards and sticks his arm in front of Jeongguk’s face. “Here. Happy?”

There are thin, garishly red cracks running up the Jimin’s arm, spreading like a spiderweb. It's as if he’s been cut into with a fine razor blade. They look fresh too, like they’ve only stopped bleeding recently.

“They go somewhere up to my elbow.” he says, showing him his palm. The cuts run up his bare fingers, some curling around them like vines. “Personally, I think it’s a cool tattoo. Like, y’know those coloured tats, they’re really expensive, right? If you look at it like that, I think I got a pretty sweet deal.”

Jimin closes his fist and pulls the sleeve back down.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Jimin laughs quickly, high pitched and sweet. “No, really, though. Your eyebrows are about to converge and soar into the sky.”

Jeongguk still doesn’t say anything. Jimin furrows his eyebrows. “What, are you still mad?”

“N - No! I’m just –“ Jeongguk inhales, air whittling past his clenched teeth. “I’m really fucking sorry. That looks – bad.”

“Geez. Thanks,” he says, not without humour. “Hey, it’s not a big deal, Kookie. If a guy materialized in my room and tried to grab me, I’d have probably stuck a scented candle up his ass and rocketed him outta there. Those candles are nasty too, by the way. Not as nasty as salt, though. Which is sad, because I suddenly remembered I used to really like salty food.” Jimin smiles. “You see! There’s a silver lining in everything.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No, not at all," Jimin chirps, too quickly to be even a little bit believable.

 Jeongguk waits in silence until Jimin gives in with a begrudging, “A bit.”

“Fuck,” Jeongguk rubs a hand over his eyes and lets it rest there for a moment while he feels like the biggest asshole in the world.

“Aw, Kookie.”

The absolutely affectionate sound of his voice makes Jeongguk's stomach flip and turn.

“C’mon,” he feels a cold sensation on his back, coming and fading away. Jeongguk realizes that he’s being tapped consolingly on the back by a ghost who he almost burned to death. Of all the irony in the world. “As cute as this is, you need to stop feeling bad. I like you better when you’re talking shit.”

Jeongguk laughs into his hand.

“Hey, hey, what was that? Did you crack a smile, aw? Lemme see, c’mon.”

“No freaking away,” Jeongguk lowers his hand, trying to be serious but smiling again when he sees Jimin’s white grin.

“Aw, fuck. Aw. Damn,” Jimin ducks his head, still grinning. “Wait up, gimme a sec. Existential crisis.”

“What?” Jeongguk laughs. Jimin peeks up at him and recoils like he’s been wounded by something.

“Aw, shit. Now I understand. Now it’s all clear to me.”

“What is?”

“Everything. And nothing,” Jimin says dramatically. “Ah, man.”

“What? Tell me already.”

“No way. I already gave in once today.”

“Gave into what?”

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously, tell me.”

“What, I showed you my arm, didn’t I? I feel like I’ve met my quota of Kookie-demands-things for the day.”

Jeongguk smiles. “Your quota is one?”

“Yeah, it’s one,” Jimin smiles back. “Wanna complain? At least it’s not a zero.”

“Well, okay,” Jeongguk looks away and wrings his fingers. “I still really want to know.”

“Yeah, well, we all want things in life. Or death. What?” Jimin grins when Jeongguk gives him a look. “Anyway, don’t worry about the wounds, we’re cool. I’ll have Yoongi with me next time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” the smile on Jeongguk’s face wobbles when he remembers the painful-looking lacerations on Jimin’s pale skin. He writes a mental note to take all of the salt and candles out of his room. “Sure.”

“’Kay,” Jimin looks up idly. "Oh, right. Time's gotta be up."

He jumps off the table and stops for a second, opening his mouth, then closing it.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jimin smiles. "See you."

"Yeah. Um, see you."

Jimin shifts on his feet awkwardly, then waves. When Jeongguk blinks, he's gone.

Chapter Text

Almost a week later, Jeongguk looks up and finds Jimin standing by the closet, grinning like he never even left.

“You’re on your phone again,” he remarks, leaning back.

“I was – waiting for you.”

“Oh,” Jimin smiles. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“That’s alright.” Jeongguk squints at the space next to Jimin. “Is your friend here? It's colder than usual.”

"Oh?" Jimin gives a small burst of laughter. “He's kind of an icy guy. But he’s mostly very lazy, which is why this took me so long.”

Jeongguk looks over the room, but apart from the tangible coldness, he can’t sense a presence other than Jimin. “So, where is he?”

“Oh,” Jimin looks to his right side, frowning like there’s something there. He moves his fingers and they curl around something immaterial, shoulder-height. Suddenly, the air next to him starts to glimmer, taking on an uncertain shape of a man with tired, heavy-set eyes and bedraggled dark hair. The figure ends somewhere around his knees, tapering into thin air.

He looks like an old photograph, grainy and frayed at the edges, completely different from Jimin who’s standing by his side, in full Technicolor.

"He's - he's here."

"Huh." Jimin takes his hand away and the ghost flickers out of existence. "Now?"

"Nothing."

"That's bizarre." Jimin frowns. He places his hand on the ghost's shoulder again, and he reappears, the expression on his face washed-out annoyance. The ghost opens his mouth, and there is a faint noise, like the crinkling of fallen leaves underfoot.

"I don't hear him," Jeongguk tells Jimin.

"Oh? Interesting." Jimin worries his lip, then looks up. "He said hi, by the way."

“Oh, um," Jeongguk inclines his head, feeling weirdly shy. "Hello. Nice to meet you.”

Jimin and the ghost look at him. The crinkling again, and then Jimin giggles.

"Right? He really is."

"What?"

"Nothing," Jimin quips, and laughs again when he sees Jeongguk's expression. "Oh, don't frown. I'm just keeping to my allotted percentage."

Jeongguk shuts his mouth and tries not to mull too hard over what that means.

The ghost opens his mouth and Jimin frowns, pats at the pockets of his jeans. Even though his expression isn't as clear as Jimin's, Jeongguk thinks that he can detect fondness. The thought of Jimin having friends, some sort of semblance of a life wherever he goes after his visits, makes the subconscious knot in Jeongguk's stomach wind tighter than ever.

"Yoongi's gonna go now. He's kinda tired."

"Oh. Alright." Jeongguk lifts his hand to wave him goodbye, thinks better of it, but feels too awkward to just let his arm fall. In the end, he gives him some weird twitch of his fingers.  He thinks he sees Yoongi smile before Jimin takes his hand away. Like the pull of a switch, he's gone.

"See you, Yoongi," Jimin says into the empty air next to him.

Jeongguk knows that Yoongi's completely gone when the slight trembling of his body abates and the air turns less oppressive.

Jimin turns and looks at him. "Looks like I'm the weird one after all."

"Maybe... maybe he was just playing with you."

"Mmm, yeah," Jimin echoes, like he doesn't believe it himself. He brightens up, then, smile on his face. "Thanks for going along with it, Jeonggukie. It must have been really strange, talking with two ghosts. Were we scary?"

"It was okay," Jeongguk replies quietly. "You're both kinda small."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Jimin bristles, a bit of heat entering his usually relaxed voice. Jeongguk looks up to find his eyebrows arched in disbelief and nostrils flared, but he's still smiling, like he can't help it.

He laughs. "I mean, you're pretty short."

"What?" Jimin crows, voice rising in pitch and volume. "You're like, almost the same height as me, you little-"

Jeongguk snorts. "No way in hell."

"Get up then, big boy. Let's see it."

Jeongguk grins. "You're gonna swallow those words."

Jeongguk stands up from his chair and strides over to Jimin, who wilts with each step. Jeongguk stops in front of him and looks down at Jimin; he doesn't have to posture at all, since he's already at least five centimetres taller, possibly more.

He's about to gloat, very loudly, when he finally realizes that Jimin's cheeks are suspiciously toasty and his eyes are entirely too bright as they dart up and down his body.

"U-Uh," Jimin croaks, looking up from what seems to be his shoulders and finding his eyes. "Guess you really are a big boy."

Jeongguk wants to tell him to cut it out, but his throat is way too dry. And he knows that Jimin's a ghost but he sure doesn't look like one right now, backed up against the closet, glancing up at him, a nervous smile parting his lips.

Jeongguk's just glad all of his blood seems to be in his burning face.

He licks his lips and Jimin's eyes zero in on his mouth, making him stutter over his words. "You've-you've only realized it now?"

"I mean, I knew you were tall, but you're kinda... built? I guess it's because you usually wear that hoodie, or something, or maybe because I'm usually distracted by- fuck, I need to stop talking."

Jeongguk halts, mind spinning. "I-I go to the gym," he says lamely.

Jimin nods enthusiastically. "Cool. I think I used to go to the gym too."

"Really. I couldn't tell."

"Hey, you-" Jimin bellows and lunges forward, like he's going to smack him. By reflex, Jeongguk dodges the blow and laughs.

He glances at Jimin, still smiling, and finds him smiling back at him, eyes affectionate. He's thought it before, but there really is something special about his smile, whether it's the squinty eyes or that crooked tooth, or maybe the generally the sunny vibe he seems to exude.

Jeongguk wants to smack his head against the closet.

Either Jimin can read his vaguely self-destructive impulses on his face or there's something else on his mind, because his smile goes a bit nervous again.

Licking his lips, he says, "Um, I think my time is up. Anyway, it's been lit, I've had at least five existential crises in the last two minutes, thanks, see you next time."

Jimin lifts his hand up to wave before Jeongguk can get a single word in, and then he's gone. Jeongguk stares at the absence of Jimin in front of him, closes the gap and gives his forehead a hearty, wholesome thunk on the closet door.

Chapter Text

"What are you reading?"

Jeongguk flinches and looks up. Jimin's looking over his shoulder, his face only a couple of centimetres away. Jeongguk gapes at him until Jimin catches on it and moves away.

He fumbles with his sweater sleeve, smiling awkwardly. "Did I scare you? Sorry."

"No. Freaking short Jimin."

"You-" Jimin says, voice pitched low with anger, smile sharp. "You brat."

 Jeongguk doesn't think he means to sound like that, but whether Jimin means or doesn't mean to, it doesn't seem to matter much to his dumb hormones.

"History," he blurts out, thankful that his voice comes out much steadier than he actually feels. "I'm studying History."

"Oh," Jimin clears his throat, only a sliver of that previous look in his eyes. "You know, I meant to ask, but aren't you supposed to be in uni by now?"

The subject makes Jeongguk nervous for a whole another reason.

"I, um, took a gap year. Or, like, two."

When he glances up, Jimin's giving him a sort of an intense look, like he'd want nothing more than to x-ray his brain.

He doesn't try, though. He looks away like last time, eyes wandering around the room, like he's looking for something to change the subject to.

"Your room is really tidy."

Jeongguk raises his eyebrows. "Is it? I think it's just normal."

"It's definitely not normal," Jimin retorts, then halts. His eyes go glazed over for a second and then he snaps out of it, giving him a guilty half-smile. "I swear I clean up, I really do. It's more of a creative mess than anything else."

For a second, Jeongguk doesn't get it. Then he sees the sudden brightness in his eyes, alight with lucidity, and realizes: he's talking to Jimin. The way he was before. Unfortunately, his lack of response is quickly noticed - Jimin blinks, surprised, then looks away, reality casting a somber pall over his features.

"Did. That's what I meant."

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. "Did you remember something?"

Jimin worries his lip, his brows furrowing lightly. "Yeah. Vaguely."

"What was it?"

"A... A sort of cluttered room. A ceiling-to-floor mirror, covering the entire wall."

"Your apartment?"

Jimin shrugs. "Maybe."

 "You might have been a dancer." Jeongguk muses out loud.

"Or maybe it's really not my room at all."

"Maybe," Jeongguk pushes further. "You should try it out. Even if you don't remember, your body might."

"You think?" 

"Yeah. Why not?"

"I dunno." He pulls at his sleeves, what Jeongguk now recognizes as a nervous habit.

"What's there to lose?"

Jimin fidgets, exhales. "You're asking all the existential questions today, Kookie."

"I thought you were here because you wanted to get to the bottom of things."

"I do. I do. I'm just - I don't know. I feel weird about it."

"I swear I won't laugh if you're shit."

Jimin cracks a laugh, some of the tension bleeding out of his stiff shoulders. "That's reassuring."

They stay in silence for a moment, Jimin worrying his lip and avoiding Jeongguk's gaze, and Jeongguk doing his best not to be pushy. Still, when he finally meets Jimin's eye, he can't help but quirk his brow at him.

"Next time," Jimin gives a faint smile and fumbles with his rings.

"Okay," Jeongguk says doubtfully.

They don't talk about it next time, or the next next time. In fact, they don't do much at all, least of all any investigative work.

One day, Jeongguk is busy with schoolwork so Jimin quizzes him. Another day, he's happy with just sitting on the floor and looking at some sketches Jeongguk drew on loose pieces of paper. Jeongguk, already used to Jimin's presence, leaves him to his own devices and does his work in peace.

In fact, he gets so used to him that he starts humming under his breath, like he usually does when he's alone. He goes so far as to sing, and only notices when Jimin pipes up with: "That's a nice singing voice."

Jeongguk starts. "Huh?" His face grows warm immediately when he realizes what just transpired. "It's, um, nothing special."

"You downplay compliments a lot."

"I'm-sorry?"

Jimin laughs, and that's the last of it.

After that, Jeongguk starts singing more freely. It's second nature to him, and if he gets to show off in front of Jimin, that's just an added bonus. One day, he gets especially into it, one earbud playing his favorite male artists' new song, the other hanging by his neck.

Still singing absent-mindedly, he turns around to try and consult Jimin with something he found in his homework, but when he does, he finds Jimin twirling gracefully, landing nimbly on the tips of his feet.

Jeongguk catches a glimpse of his face as he dances like water, eyes closed, lips parted, so precarious that Jeongguk realizes it's one of those times, a moment that you'll only get to experience once. He tries to keep steady but it's impossible; emotion bleeds into his voice and it wobbles, tapers out. Jimin opens his eyes and their gazes meet.

His chest is heaving, poised firmly on the flats of his feet, muscles tense. A dancer's posture.

"Um. Sorry," Jimin says weakly. "This is probably pretty weird, but I just... really felt like dancing."

"That's okay," Jeongguk looks away, chest tight. "Seems like you're a dancer after all."

"Yeah," Jimin breathes it out. "Thank you, Kookie."

"What-What for?"

A faint laugh. 

Jeongguk looks up and finds Jimin's eyes, trained on him already. His lips are still parted, cheeks flushed, eyes glowing with a blinding light. Jeongguk feels like there is a strange clawing in his chest that makes it impossible for him to talk.

So he doesn't say anything, and the moment passes.

"I- I think I've overstayed my welcome," Jimin says, still sounding breathless. "I'll... I'll come over soon. Next week, right?"

"You, um. You can come over again this week," Jeongguk says before he can stop himself.

He doesn't look at Jimin, studying his hands in his lap instead.

"Oh. Okay. I'll try."

His voice sounds weird when he says it, and Jeongguk frowns.

"I mean, you don't have to."

"N-No, I- I really want to! It's not just on me, though," Jeongguk looks up at a flushed, wide-eyed Jimin, and promptly looks away again. "It's, um. A story for some other time. Or no time at all. Well, you'll see."

"...'kay."

"Yeah. Thanks. See you, Kookie."

"Yeah, Chim."

They both flinch at the same second and meet each other's gaze, probably a perfect mirror of shock.

"What-" Jimin starts, and Jeongguk finishes: "I don't know."

"Okay. Well. I, uh. I don't mind."

"Okay. Um, thanks."

The silence crawls between them, coils around Jeongguk's warm cheeks. Finally, Jimin breaks it with, "No problem. Uh. See you, then."

"Yep. See you."

Jeongguk glances up, expecting Jimin to be gone, but he's still standing there, surprise still in his widened eyes. Jeongguk gives him a quizzical look and Jimin answers with a flustered smile.

"Just... could you say it again, maybe? It just sounds really cute."

The look that Jimin gives him, half-apologetic and half-expectant makes Jeongguk burst out in a laugh. He must be as red as a tomato by now, but Jimin doesn't seem to mind it. If anything, his smile goes wider, eyes pressing together.

"Get out, Ch-Jimin."

"Aw," Jimin drawls out in a pouty voice, but his smile is nothing but sincere. "I'll get it out of you yet."

"Sure. Good luck."

With one last grin and a wave of his hand, Jimin is gone. The clawing in his chest exacerbates, and Jeongguk goes to lie in his bed and tries not to think of anything at all.

In his dream, fingers on his cheek, a fuzzy warmth pressed into his hand.  A memory - but it fades as soon as light breaks.

Chapter Text

Now that Jeongguk knows Jimin was a dancer, he wonders how he didn't notice it before.

It's so obvious, with the graceful way he holds himself, the tightness of his jeans over his muscled thighs, the flourishes of the simplest of his movements. Singing for him quickly becomes Jeongguk's favourite pastime.

He doesn't tell Jimin that, but he doesn't think he has to. The words are spoken inaudibly, during the downtime between Jimin's routines, when he stares at Jeongguk as he catches his breath, a soft smile on his lips, the world reflected in his dark eyes.

Still, it isn't that simple. Nothing ever is. Jeongguk thinks that something is up with Jimin, but he can't exactly tell what. It's just that whenever he tries to pry something out of him or help jostle his memory, Jimin just gives some vague or flippant response and turns the conversation to something lighter.

He vehemently refuses when Jeongguk suggests he find the dusty albums his mother filled with photos of him growing up. Jeongguk knows he ought to check them out himself, but knowing is just one step on a long, winding road.

He doesn't ask Jimin anything. He can't force himself to.

The knot winds tighter, tighter.

One Wednesday night, they're sitting on Jeongguk's bed, side by side against the wall. The air is sticky warm, even with Jimin's cooling presence, and Jeongguk shifts, trying to find a spot on the wall not heated with his body warmth.

"Hey, Jimin. Since you've been coming over, the hauntings have stopped."

"Hey, you." Jimin gives him an exaggerated scowl, eveybrows arched, nostrils flared. "I'm haunting you now. Or are you underestimating me, brat?"

Jeongguk laughs. "There's, like, nothing scary about you. Apart from your face, maybe."

Jimin laughs and makes a move as if to smack him on the shoulder. Jeongguk feels it like a chill coursing through his body, and a shiver grips his body.

Jimin notices, of course, and draws his hand back, smile fading.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Nah, it's fine," Jeongguk says quickly. "It's fuckin' hot, anyway."

"Potty mouth," Jimin chides, but gives him one of those under-the-eyelashes looks. "Why don't you speak in accent more often?"

Jeongguk didn't even realize he let his dialect slip out. He's conscious of his speaking again when he says, "Because it's hard to switch back to standard if I do that."

"Why'd you stick to standard, anyway?"

"Uh, because you need to speak it in school?"

"Yeah, but, like, in private."

Jeongguk screws his lips, Jimin's intense gaze making him discomforted. "Because."

He's expecting Jimin to drop it like usual, but instead he follows up with, "You don't wanna talk about it?"

And it's not that he doesn't want to, it's just that sometimes he feels as if there's a cork in his throat stopping him from letting anything out. Letting anything in.

"It's... it's just... hard."

It's such a silly understatement, but it's all he can manage. 

"Yeah, I get it,"  Jimin says, smiling. The kindness in his eyes awakens a difficult emotion, inspires words that Jeongguk has to stamp down with sheer willpower.

Before the silence can turn stilted, Jimin changes the subject, smoothly. "About the hauntings, I think it's probably my doing." A brilliant grin. "I know, you're welcome."

"What do you mean? Have you been telling people to keep off?"

"What, like, hands off my man?" Jimin giggles, covering his mouth, and Jeongguk knows that it's a joke, but common sense has nothing to do with the pang he feels in his stomach. "Nah, it's not like that. It's more like... a shared consciousness, I guess. But not thoughts or anything, it's not like they know what we're talking about. Just, uh. General sentiments."

Jeongguk wants to ask him what that sentiment would be. For a second, he's glad that he's so tightly-wound and can't force the words out, because he's pretty sure that he's not ready to deal with whatever the answer would be.

"What, uh, what does it feel like? Down there?"

Jimin worries his lip, his eyes hesitant. "Are you sure you wanna know? Like I said, it seems like you're sort of specially bound to us. I don't think learning more is gonna help you with that."

"It's whatever. I mean, I said I'd help you. I feel like I can't bind myself more than I already have."

Jimin swallows, gives him a searching look. Jeongguk wants to hold his gaze firmly, but finds himself looking away after just a couple of seconds. He used to be better at dealing with this sort of thing.

"Uh, I guess... it's kind of hard to explain." Jeongguk watches Jimin's hands in his lap, picking at the skin around his nails. "Like... you know, when you go down the stairs, but you miss one step and you feel like you're about to, like, die or whatever?"

When Jeongguk looks up, Jimin's face is tight with an unfathomable emotion.

"I mean, obviously, I'm already dead, but it's just that feeling of waiting for the ground to come, but instead you're just... falling. And it never really comes." Jimin glances at him, his smile a little embarrassed. "Yeah, it sounds dumb, sorry. I'm really shit at explaining things."

"No, it's-" Jeongguk struggles to sort out his thoughts, the feeling that he can't put into words pushing his expression closer to anger than anything else, but if he scowls like that, Jimin is sure to misunderstand. "I'm sorry," he grinds through his teeth.

Jimin laughs, and miraculously, seems to understand. A cold sensation on his shoulder, and Jeongguk looks down on Jimin's small fingers overlapping with his shirt.

"It's really fine. I get to come here, so it's all worth it," Jimin gives him a silly, exaggerated grin. "You make me feel alive."

"Ew, gross," Jeongguk smiles, moves to swipe Jimin's hand off his shoulder. Jimin catches on it and moves it at the appropriate time, giggling. They could both be actors.

"You - you said that you can't come here all the time. Why?"

"Oh, it's just that it takes effort to keep this form. I start feeling antsy and really wrong if I stay here for too long. I just don't... belong."

Jeongguk thinks that he understands what he's talking about. It's probably the same oppressiveness that was in the air when both Jimin and Yoongi were in this room. The realization makes his stomach squeeze tighter, like hands squashing him from all sides.

He scrambles for something else to say.

"When you first came here, you made this really weird frickin' noise, like, hruaagh."  Jeongguk throws his hands up and imitates him, overly animated. Whether Jimin finds the behavior strange or not, he laughs.

"Well, I didn't know you'd hear. I'd, like, do something much more sinister."

"Like what?"

"Uh, like... huuaaaah?" Jimin makes a high pitched noise and presses a peace sign next to his face, blinking at him cutely. Jeongguk groans, then gives in and laughs.

"Super sinister."

"Told you," Jimin smiles, dropping his hands back into his lap.

"Did you haunt a lot of people before me?"

Jimin stares at him, then gives a very wide, very smug smile. "What's this, twenty questions?"

Jeongguk frowns. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Jimin giggles, eyes pressed together and teeth white. Jeongguk looks away.

"Nah, I didn't, really. I'd just probe for a response, like I did with you. Although, if they were cute, like you, I'd stick around and stare at them for a while."

"Dude, that's fuckin' creepy," Jeongguk says roughly, trying to stop the barrage of cutecutecutecute going through his head.

Jimin imitates a shiver passing through his body and gives him a crooked smile. "Mmm, diss me some more in that hot accent."

"Shut up."

Jimin giggles. "Ah, I missed this. You've been going soft on me lately."

"Who's... soft..." Jeongguk mumbles, looking at his lap. He thinks that he's probably acting grossly childish, but Jimin makes a noise and Jeongguk feels cold down both of his sides, for a short second. A hug.

"You're so powerful," Jimin tells him, completely honestly. 

"Of - Of course I am. I go to the gym."

Jimin laughs loudly, shaking his head. 

He leans away and even though he's no longer touching him, the coldness lingers on Jeongguk's skin, tingling like an old habit.

Chapter Text

 Jimin stays longer and longer hours, and even if Jeongguk's schoolwork suffers for it, he doesn't much care. It's a bit hard to organise their activities, since they can't watch TV or play videogames or do much at all, but they end up managing. Jimin's interesting enough by himself.

One night, he stays particularly late.

The lights in Jeongguk's room are turned off, save from the table lamp, throwing flickering shadows over the floor. His parents think he's sleeping, so they're sitting closer together than usual, both speaking in hushed voices even though only one of them can actually be heard.

"So, what's up with your dialect?"

And Jeongguk doesn't know what it is: The proximity of their hands on the bed, pinky fingers almost touching; the calm and understanding expression on Jimin's face that seems to tell him that it's okay whether he wants to talk or not; or the quiet evening atmosphere enveloping them in a dream-like embrace - but Jeongguk takes a deep breath, and it goes straight down, into his lungs, unobstructed.

And he talks.

He tells Jimin how he moved around for six years because of his dad's job before they finally settled in Seoul, how by then he had forgotten how to make or keep friends. That it was hard, at first, especially since it was the middle of the school year and he was sporting a weird accent and inadequately fashionable clothes.

Things only started looking up for him in high school, when he finally got used to the city.

"Well, I did get a haircut, too. I had this stupid bowl cut before. Also, braces." Jeongguk frowns. "Though my teeth still kinda..." He gestures in front of his mouth vaguely.

"I love your teeth," Jimin interjects then, eyes fervent. "I mean, your smile. It's really amazing."

Jeongguk waves him off, embarrassed by the sudden compliment.

He continues the story, how his carefree teenage days ended with the hauntings. He has difficulty continuing, then; it's not something he can relay in an indifferent manner, like he's retelling someone else's life.

Jimin encourages him with, "You mentioned something about taking meds?"

Jeongguk's words falter. He looks at Jimin and finds his gaze so gentle that it makes his hands tremble, lungs expanding wider and wider.

"I mean, when it first happened, obviously, I had to tell my mom I was seeing shit and couldn't sleep. Since it mostly happened at night, they thought it was sleep paralysis or something. So, um. We went to a therapist and stuff. He gave me some pills which made me really sleepy and moody. That's around the time I stopped going to school. I mean, I couldn't get out of bed."

Jeongguk forces a smile. "The worst thing was, I really thought I had gone... I mean, even now, I guess that I- there's no way of knowing. The pills didn't help, but maybe I'm just too-"

A cold touch on his hand. He looks down and he sees Jimin's hand on top of his, holding onto nothing. Jeongguk turns his head away.

"And... not just that, but it... it really made my mom..."

Jeongguk clenches his teeth, forces the quaking in his body down. His teeth are chattering too hard for him to get any semblance of a word out, even if he could form it somehow.

"Kookie. I'll make it stop. I promise."

Jeongguk gives a laugh, then swallows it when it comes out all broken. Jimin doesn't give any further comment, and Jeongguk can't fathom a way to tell him how the words make him feel.

He rubs at moist eyes and gives a big exhale. 

"Sorry for being... yeah."

"What? You're really cute, Jeonggukie."

Jeongguk chuckles, weakly.

"You really are. I wish I could..." Jimin trails off, and there is a hardness in his voice, something almost pained. Jeongguk meets his gaze, eyes serious, and warmth creeps into his chest, taking the chance to sneak down his windpipe as he breathes; or maybe it was always there.

The warmth scalds when Jimin gives a bitter sound and averts his eyes. Jeongguk follows his gaze to their hands, touching but not at all. It's his right hand, the one he burned.

"Does it... does it still hurt?"

"What?" Jimin looks up.

Jeongguk points a finger at a line stretching between his ring and middle finger.

"No," Jimin laughs. "Are you still hung up over that?"

"No," Jeongguk retorts. Then, "I'm sorry."

Jimin's next laugh is breathless. "It's okay."

Jimin stays quiet for a couple of moments longer, then just says, "Thank you."

"You keep saying that."

"That's because I want you to know how much you've done for me," Jimin tells him, catches his gaze and holds it firmly. Jeongguk can never figure out how he can just say things like that so easily.

"I haven't done anything."

Jimin clicks his tongue. "See? That's why."

Jeongguk laughs and Jimin watches him, like he always does. Jeongguk finally realizes why -  your smile is amazing - and he ducks his head, cheeks warm. After that, nothing is said. There's no need to share words.

They sit there until Jeongguk drops off. He wakes up in the morning, alone, a crick in his neck and his spine sore. In his dream, faint memories of Busan, escaping into the morning light, like all good things do.

Chapter Text

The next time that Jimin comes, he's all business. Jeongguk's almost glad, because the words he wants to say seem to be suffocating him. If Jimin looked at him like that again, eyes serious, a slight smile on his lips, they would surely come tumbling out, and then what would they do?

Jimin walks around Jeongguk's room and peeks at his things, books, the baubles on his shelves. He asks them where he got them, nods thoughtfully, but ultimately, doesn't seem to find out anything substantial.

The change makes Jeongguk a bit unsettled, although he knows that's how it's supposed to be. From the start, this was just a business deal.

"Can you open your closet?" Jimin asks him one day, apparently tiring from just circling his room like a bird of prey. "I kinda wanna take a peek at your stuff."

"That's... sorta weird."

"Is it?" Jimin grins. "You got heart-patterned underwear or something?"

"Shut up, Jimin," Jeongguk retorts heatedly. Still, he gets up from his desk and opens the wardrobe.

Jimin moves to stand by him, crosses his arms over. The small frown on his face makes Jeongguk just a little self-conscious.

"You've got a lot of white t-shirts."

"I guess."

Jimin sneaks a look at him and grins. "You look good in them, though." He turns back around and points at his top shelf before Jeongguk can say anything about it. “I see you still got your teddy bear.”

Jeongguk follows his gaze to his old teddy, a ratty, brown plushie. He reaches forward and grabs it, unreasonably wanting to hide it from Jimin even though it’s already too late for something like that. “It’s – from Busan.”

“How cute.” Jimin smiles at him, his eyes pressing together. "Do you have a name for him or something? Like Captain Snuggles or Fudge Biscuit?"

 “No. Well, even if I did, I don’t remember.”

“Aw, you forgot the name of your childhood toy. That’s kinda sad.”

“It’s a toy.”

“Well, haven’t you watched Toy Story? Toys have feelings too.”

“Stop it,” Jeongguk grumbles, feeling pretty bad about it himself.

"Hey, Kookie. Can I see it from up close?"

"Why?" Jeongguk asks, hugging the teddy bear protectively to himself. Jimin notices and gives him an affectionate look.

"I'm not gonna eat it. I'm just curious about something."

Jeongguk pouts and turns the teddy bear around so Jimin can see it properly. He hopes Jimin won't give him a hard time about keeping it - it's the only thing he has left from Busan, and he remembers feeling happy back then, if only faintly.

Instead of teasing him, Jimin gets an unusually solemn look in his eyes. He stares at the teddy bear, head inclined, lips pressed together.

Jeongguk leans forward and examines it; it's just a normal toy, only made special by the fact that it only has one marble eye, the other having fallen out sometime during the years. Jeongguk wonders if Jimin is actually mad because he really, really likes Toy Story and he thinks Jeongguk used to mistreat his toys.

"Um, Jimin?"

Jimin gives him an unreadable look, long and hard. Jeongguk's starting to feel pretty nervous when Jimin looks away.

"Did you get a good look at it?"

Jimin nods.

"Well, okay." Jeongguk turns to put the teddy bear back onto the top shelf and closes the wardrobe. "Hey, Jimin, you're done with the closet, right?"

Jimin's staring at his open palm with furrowed eyebrows.

"Hey, Jimin?"

He starts and hides his hand behind his back. Jeongguk's curious, but he still feels bad about being pushy from last time, when he forced him to show him his scars. So instead, he just asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jimin grins, and it doesn't reach his eyes at all. "It's just that, I've got this headache, or something. So, um, I'll think I'll go now."

"Already?" Jeongguk tries not to sound disappointed, but his voice still comes out smaller than usual.

Jimin makes a face at him, shifting on his feet. "I'm - I'm sorry. I'll come back soon."

"Okay?"

This time, Jimin doesn't wave before he disappears.

Chapter Text

Exactly two weeks later, Jeongguk is woken from a fitful dream about the beach by a cold sensation on his cheek. He's taken to sleeping with his desk light open, a product of haunting-induced paranoia.  That is why, when he opens his eyes, he can see a familiar figure standing by his bed. His expression eludes his sleep-bleary eyes, but he knows it's him, can see the flash of a white smile and wheat bleached hair.

He slurs something out, struggling to sit up with stiff limbs and a half-asleep brain. The figure doesn't say anything, and that makes Jeongguk think that he's still dreaming. It wouldn't be a first.

He rubs at his eyes, blinks, and they focus in on that familiar face.

"Jimin!" he half-shouts, and Jimin starts. He presses a finger to his own lips and shushes him.

Slanted, dark eyes, short index still pressed against full lips, a cut of red glinting off his knuckles. Green sweater, light-wash jeans, and Jeongguk's chest squeezes so tight that he has to fight to catch his breath.

"Is it-" He struggles to get the words out. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah," he says, voice low and husky, and Jeongguk feels a puncturing in his chest, acid filling his stomach.

"You said soon."

Jimin blanches, apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry, I... I really wanted to come."

Blood rises into Jeongguk's face and he jumps out of his bed like a furious panther. He shoves Jimin's chest and his hands go right through him, like he plunged them into freezing water, and Jeongguk wants to cry from how frustrated he is.

He loses his balance and falls back onto his bed, all the while Jimin looks at him with a look bordering between pity and sorrow, arms lifted like he wanted to catch him.

"Fuck you. You fucking suck."

"It hasn't been easy for me either," Jimin says matter-of-factly.

"What hasn't?" Jeongguk spits out. "At least you haven't been sitting here, wondering if your - if you were never..."

"Jeonggukie," Jimin says, so gently that Jeongguk wants so badly that he was material just so he could sock him on the face. "This was always going to happen, from the start."

"I know. Don't talk to me like I'm fucking stupid."

"You're not stupid, you're wonderful."

Jeongguk's throat feels like it's been rubbed raw and his eyes ache. "Stop. Stop it."

"Jeongguk. I - I really don't know what to do. I -"

"What?" Jeongguk demands, pain clawing out of his chest and painting his voice in shades of anger. "What's going on?"

"This-" Jimin closes his eyes, looking like he's in physical pain, and the sharp pinprick he feels at the sight makes Jeongguk even more furious. "This isn't the right time for this. We can talk tomorrow."

"What if I don't want you to come?"

Jimin gives him a sad smile. "We can do it like that, if that's what you want."

"Fuck you," Jeongguk says emphatically. He stares at his clenched fists, poised on his knees.

"Tomorrow." Jimin starts, voice faint. "Before I come, look at your old photo album."

Jeongguk looks up and spits out, "Don't tell me what to do."

Jimin has the gall to laugh, although weakly. Jeongguk's about to curse him out, but he doesn't find himself angry enough to do so, not when he's hit with the full force of Jimin's smiling face after two weeks of being deprived of it.

Jimin must have caught onto his weakening resolve, because his expression softens and he wrings his fingers.  "Jeongguk. I, um - I really-"

Jeongguk lifts his hand and stops him, glaring. "I dare you to finish that fucking sentence."

A laugh. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"I know I don't wanna hear it, whatever it is."

Jimin laughs again, a little stronger this time. The angry ball in Jeongguk's stomach burns fainter and fainter, leaving only cinders of fatigue. He just wants to sleep. Sleep it off. Wake up tomorrow and things will be the way they were. No ghosts, no Jimin. No smiles that remind him of childhood happiness.

That's not what he really wants, but it might as well be.

"Can you leave now?" His voice comes out faint, and he clears his throat softly before saying, "I need to think."

Jimin opens his mouth to say something, then he halts. His eyes dart up and down Jeongguk's figure, staying fixed under his neck.

Jeongguk covers up his bare chest with his arms and gives him a tired look.

Jimin lifts his eyes, smiling a little guiltily. "Uh. Sorry."

"Go."

Jimin gives him one last look, and the longing in his eyes is so visible that Jeongguk feels it like a physical blow. He disappears then, and Jeongguk sits on his bed until he makes up his mind. Then he gets up and heads for the living room, the sound of his footsteps silent in the sleeping house.

In the lower middle shelf, he finds what he's been looking for.

The end of the road.

Chapter Text

He awaits Jimin the next day, sitting on his bed with the album in his lap. He had to fake being sick to avoid going to school. It wasn't hard to do, with the fact that he didn't sleep a wink throughout the night, stomach twisting in knots.

The nausea abated during the day, now simmering low in his stomach.

He holds one of the photos in question in his hands, the edges going dog-eared from how many time he put it down and picked it up again. Two boys hugging, one shorter, the taller with round cheeks and pouty lips. The resemblance is uncanny, even though it was more than a decade ago and his hair is not black anymore.

When he lifts his gaze, he finds Jimin looking at him, standing in the middle of the room. 

"I hoped you'd be naked again," he jokes, but Jeongguk can tell that his heart is not in it.

Jeongguk lifts the photo mutely. On the back of it, Kookie + Chim, 2011, Busan, written in faded black sharpie.

Jimin draws closer and observes it with his eyebrows drawn. He smiles faintly after a minute and leans back.

"Yeah, I thought you'd find something like that. You were so small back then, aw."

"How long have you known?"

Jimin looks away, smile falling away. He visibly sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I don't know it myself. I got a weird feeling when you mentioned Busan."

"That's... right at the beginning."

Jimin gives him a rueful smile. "Yeah. I didn't know all of it then, but I was sure I knew you. I just felt too strongly about you, from the very start."

Jeongguk looks away. "So, when you saw the teddy bear..."

"Yeah. It didn't come to me right away, but I figured it out almost immediately after I left. The entire collective consciousness was shook, I'll tell you that."

"But why?" Jeongguk looks back at him, his throat painfully tight. "Why the teddy bear?"

"You don't remember?" Jimin gives a self-deprecating smile. "Man, I'm such a whipped loser."

Jeongguk watches him mutely. After a moment of silence, Jimin smiles and digs into his pocket. He takes something out, holds it between his thumb and forefinger and shows it to Jeongguk. A round, black bead, reflecting the ceiling light.

"That's..." Jeongguk whispers, the realization hitting him hard.

"Your teddy's missing eye," Jimin finishes for him, gently.

"Why... why didn't you tell me you had that?"

Jimin shrugs. "I had a feeling I shouldn't. If I did, you might have remembered, right?"

"You're saying that like it's a bad thing," Jeongguk mutters, thinking out loud.

"Depends how you look at it." Jimin's smile is so sharp it could cut. "'Sides, I only found out after Yoongi's visit. He told me he felt something weird on me."

Jeongguk feels like he's floating, his nausea and lightheadedness combining to make his limbs airy and weak, and he wonders if this is how Jimin feels every day. 

"Oh, I remembered his name, by the way." Jimin laughs, brings him back into the present. "Nochu. It's not really a word, but everything was a Nochu to you. Dogs were Nochu, people were Nochu. It was really cute."

"Nochu," Jeongguk smiles hollowly. "Right. It's just... how did that end up with you?"

"You gave it to me, before you moved away," Jimin laughs, suddenly. "Well, I don't know if give is the right word, exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"Here." Jimin holds the marble forward and Jeongguk puts his palm up numbly.

He sets it down slowly and Jeongguk curls his fingers around the cold surface.

Memories rush into him like the sea, stinging at the surface of his skin. A series of images and sensations, presented like a collage of snapshots; running with laughter high in his ears,  hair carried by the wind; his face, messy with ice-cream, Jimin's fingers wiping it off his chin; building sandcastles on the beach, hands digging into the wet sand like putty; his high-pitched voice, singing some intelligible song as Jimin spins in wobbly pirouettes in front of him.

He resurfaces into the room, where Jimin is standing, his Jimin, his face all matured and sharp, jaw narrow, but there's that light in his eyes that Jeongguk now remembers. 

"You cried so much when the eye fell off." Jimin plays with his fingers and Jeongguk remembers how large his hand used to feel back then, how dependable . "So I said I'd fix it. I didn't know how, of course, but I had to do it. For you." Jimin laughs like he used to, tinkling, with all of his heart in it. "I pricked my fingers so many times with the needle, trying to learn how to sew. I hadn't figured it out, though, and you had to move, and I wanted to give it back but you wouldn't let me."

Everything about him is bittersweet, the taste of Busan, tangy salt and the song of cicadas in the air.

"I was two years older, but you always bossed me around. 'Chim Chim, piggyback me, Chim Chim, take me to the park'. You were so cute you got away with it. I spoiled you rotten."

Jeongguk tries to swallow but finds his throat clogged, the expression on Jimin's face so bright it makes his eyes water.

"So when you were leaving, you said, 'promise me you'll fix it'. And I said, 'I promise'. I told you we would definitely see each other again." A disarming smile. "I could never say no to you."

Jeongguk feels himself form the words, pushing the conversation onwards involuntarily, to its inevitable end.

"So... so you didn't move on..."

"Because I felt so bad about going back on a promise I made when I was seven. Yup," Jimin smiles, but this time it's all hard and curved, like jagged glass. "Oh, well. It's not just that, of course. I think I probably... just wanted to see how you were doing, one last time. I didn't think it'd cause so much trouble for you, though.Three years, fuck. I'm really the worst."

Jeongguk wants to stop him, but he can't. There are no words that he can say. He clutches the bead tighter, hand trembling.

"Anyway, I think that bead was what was keeping you tethered to me. Tethered to that place. Now that you have it back, it should be done." Jimin's smile goes relieved, and his hands unclench. "You can finally have a normal life-"

"Don't go," Jeongguk whispers.

Jimin halts.

He crumbles in stages, first his hands, then shoulders, then smile. His eyes go last, round, gleaming with pain.

"Don't say that. Please. If you do, I can't..." he struggles visibly, face contorting in emotion so profound Jeongguk can't begin to put a name to it. "You... you deserve better."

The words strike a chord in Jeongguk. 

Falling, falling, waiting for the ground to come up, but it never does.

He knows with a frightening clarity what he has to do, but he grasps for the seconds, wishing that the hands of the clock could stop moving. 

"Why... why was it in your pocket?"

Jimin looks at him mutely, hands relaxing from fists.

"That day, I was going to an audition. It was my lucky charm."

Jeongguk bites into the inside of his cheek hard, forcing the tightness in this windpipe down. He wants to ask what happened but he can't - if he does, he won't be able to keep holding on.

"Why didn't you ever contact me? If you knew..."

"I don't know. I just... I figured you've forgotten all about me."

The words hurt, but not as much as Jimin's smile, pale and forgiving. Like it's only natural.

Jeongguk averts his eyes, a faint taste of copper in his mouth.

"I do remember. Busan. Being happy." Jeongguk inhales a shaky breath. "It's thanks to you that I had those memories. They... they helped me go through bad things."

He's not going to cry. He's doing a good thing. The right thing.

"You never went back on your promise. You came to see me. So it's okay. You're okay."

There is no response from Jimin. When Jeongguk looks up at him, he finds him with his eyes wide, mouth parted in shock. After a moment, he smiles, so sweetly that Jeongguk can hardly bear to look at him.

Jimin's mouth opens, but Jeongguk can't hear the words that come out. Jeongguk shakes his head, and says, voice cracking, "I can't hear you."

Jimin halts, realization filtering in. His eyes are stricken, but he tries again. Thank you. The sound comes to Jeongguk warbled, like waves crashing over rock.

Jeongguk panics, knowing that time is slipping like sand through his fingers. "Chim Chim, three years ago, how - how did you-"

Car crash. Jimin mouths the words. Jeongguk can't hear him at all anymore.

He nods and the knot snaps, his lungs constrict, gasping for breath. Jimin reaches for him, his touch on his cheek doesn't feel like anything, not even coldness, but Jeongguk tries to place his hand over his, feels his own skin under his fingertips.

Jimin is trying to tell him something, his skin going fainter, the light in his eyes turning dull.

Jeongguk swivels his head from left to right. "I can't-"

Jimin moves his lips slower, body tapering out from the bottom, like he's being sucked into a vortex.

Each other, he reads.

Jeongguk feels for the shape of the vowels, then understands it, all at once.

We'll see each other again. 

His eyes go all blurry and Jeongguk blinks, tears spilling down his cheeks.

When he opens his eyes, Jimin is gone.

The air warms up around him, drowning him in sweltering heat, and any last goodbye he might have said turns into dust in his mouth. The analogue clock ticks-ticks-ticks in the absence of Jimin, his hand hovering in empty air, touching his own wet cheek.

He's going to show up. Any second now, he'll throw his pen off his table, make his phone glitch out, smile at him, put his hand on top of his. 

Jeongguk presses his hands to his face and furiously tries to wipe away the tears that are flooding up, making his palms wet, and he hates it, he told himself he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't...

Bang. Like a firecracker had gone off under his desk, and a high-pitched, "Fuck!"

Jeongguk startles, halting mid-sob. He feels frozen in time as he rubs away the tears streaming down his face to see a person under his desk, a person with bleached platinum hair rubbing the top of their head, an upturned trash can next to them. Squinting through the pain, the person looks up and locks eyes with him.

"Jeonggukie," Jimin breathes it like a prayer, crawling from under the table and getting on his feet. He's naked down to the waist, stomach flat and arms unblemished, clad in leather pants and combat boots.

There's a cat bell choker around his neck that tinkles softly as he moves.

"It's me, I swear, don't try to exorcise me," Jimin says, and it's his voice, it's him, but when he grins his fangs are sharp and he has a tail. "I can explain."

He holds his hands up in front of him in a conciliatory gesture, a powerful deja-vu. Jeongguk can barely follow him as he prattles on.

"-so if you have bad thoughts you don't get to go up to heaven or whatever, and since I had, like, a lot of inappropriate thoughts about you, I ended up becoming an incubus." Jimin drags in a long breath, then exhales it in a laugh, like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. "I skipped orientation to come here, Namjoon's gonna kill me!"

Jeongguk stands up. He almost collapses the moment his feet touch the floor and Jimin's arms twitch as if to catch him, but Jeongguk stops him with his palm in the air. They're almost head to head now, with the couple of centimeters the boots give Jimin.

Jimin's face goes pale as he looks at him closely. "Jeongguk, are you cryin-?"

Jeongguk makes a fist and punches him square in the face. There's a satisfactory collision of his knuckles with Jimin's cheek, although Jimin doesn't even budge a little bit and it seems like most of the damage he does is to his own hand.

"Owww, fuck," Jeongguk nurses his hand, a savage laughter bubbling up. "I've been wanting to do this forever."

Jimin places a hand on his stricken cheek and gives Jeongguk a confused look. "Uh, was I wrong? Do you actually really hate-"

Jeongguk reaches forward and claps his hands on Jimin's cheeks, feels his skin, his warmth. Their noses knock and Jeongguk practically punches him with his mouth but Jimin lets out a shaky breath, his arms come up around him and hold him impossibly tight.

His skin is silk under Jeongguk's hands, the ridges of his ribs hard, smooth contours of his arms, and he smells so wonderful, indescribable. Jeongguk stops kissing him, digs his face into the crook of his neck, lips against the velvet of his choker, and inhales fitfully.

Jimin runs his hands through his hair, the other holding him by the back of his neck, cooing unintelligible words of comfort. Jeongguk has to bite the inside of his mouth hard to stop the tears from coming again.

Jimin holds him tight until Jeonnguk's breathing evens out, the shaking of his body melting at Jimin's touch. He relaxes his stiff fingers, realizing that he's been digging his nails into Jimin's back hard enough for it to hurt. 

"Did you know that you were coming back?" he mumbles against Jimin's neck, half-expecting the other not to hear.

"Nope, no idea."

Jeonnguk leans back then, slowly, Jimin's hands sliding to his waist and holding him loosely. Jeonnguk's fingers find Jimin's skin immediately, tracing the sharp, smooth slope of his collarbones. "Then why did you say that?" He moves one hand up his neck, over the band of his choker, feels his throat bob with a swallow. "That we'd -"

"Oh. I just thought it would work out, somehow. " Jimin gives him a smile so beautiful, glowing so brightly that it's impossible for him to feel even a little bit angry. "Since it's the two of us."

While Jeongguk looks at him, unable to process the words, Jimin tears the bell off his choker with one hand and dangles it in front of Jeongguk. "You can call me over with this, and I'll be here right away. I'm only supposed to give this to my chosen partner, so here you go."

Jimin places the small silver bell into his hand, the metal peculiarly hot against his palm. He takes his hand, still holding the bell, and kisses his still aching knuckles, one after another, before letting go.

"It's a promise."

Jeongguk slouches, presses his face into Jimin's neck, the sharp curves of the bell cutting into the skin of his palm. Jimin gives a muted giggle and presses a soft kiss onto his hair.

"You're cute, Jeonggukie."

"Don't talk."

Jimin laughs, fingers drawing patterns over Jeongguk's back, chasing the goose bumps under his clothes. They stay like that for a while, until Jimin speaks up.

"Do you have any idea how I managed to come here? Because it's not supposed to be possible unless you have something that belongs to me." Jimin pauses for a second, and Jeongguk can feel the smile in his voice. "Well, apart from my heart."

"You're horrible," Jeongguk mutters, drowning in warmth.

"No, seriously," Jimin laughs. "Do you know?"

Jeongguk looks over Jimin's shoulder, at the overturned trash can under his table. He doesn't empty that one often, because he doesn't really use it - the last time he did, it was for...

"Nope."

"Hm. Well, okay." Jimin leans his cheek against his head. "Maybe it's just the providence of the universe." 

They're silent for a moment.

"What-"

"Don't," Jimin interrupts before he can finish his question, voice rough with embarrassment. Jeongguk laughs and leans back. Jimin's face immediately lights up, smile settling on his full lips.

Jeongguk touches the side of his face and Jimin leans in to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

"Hey, Jimin?"

"Yes?" he mouths against his skin.

"What the shit are you wearing?"

Jimin halts for a moment, and then breaks into a laugh like music. He lowers his forehead onto Jeongguk's shoulder and Jeongguk laughs with him, holds him tight around the back as Jimin curls into him.

"You look like you've robbed some sort of fetishist sex shop blind."

"I know," Jimin hiccups between laughter. His breath fans over Jeongguk's skin and sends shivers down his spine. "I begged them to give me some kind of shirt, but this is how they dress, apparently." Jimin leans back and grins wider. "Oh, by the way, did you see my tail?"

Jimin whips it around. Thick, smooth and black, with a heart-like shape on the tip. "Kinda cute, right?"

"Y-Yeah. Cute."

"I still can't control it very well, but I hear that it can be used like some sort of third hand," Jimin gives Jeongguk one of his devilish smiles, but it's absolutely lethal with the addition of fanged teeth. "And you should see my -"

"Okay," Jeongguk interjects, face toasty warm. "I get it-wah!"

A hard touch against his inner thigh, coiling around his leg. Jimin's tail.

"But don't worry, I'll get the hang of it." A sharp-toothed smile. "Since you've got my bell now, I can pretty much come whenever I want, so we'll be able to practice a lot."

He opens his mouth to answer but Jimin dips him low and Jeongguk gasps, throwing his arms around his neck. He doesn't have time to complain because Jimin draws him in for a open-mouthed kiss, tongue flicking at his lower lip teasingly.

Jimin pulls him upright again and Jeongguk holds him tight around the neck, bodies flush together, breathing harshly.

Jimin's hands slide down his sides, tail tightening around him. A tingle of pleasure courses through Jeongguk's body. "We've got a lot of catching up to do."

As he says it, his eyes flash red.

Jeongguk gets the distinct feeling that his troubles have only just begun.