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Every supernatural species had its abilities, ones that they learned to use or control as they aged. Witches were no different.
Every witch was born with a specialty. Spells, potions, weather control, animal communication; the possibilities were vast, and with their internal magic already suited for their individual specialties, it was simply a matter of waiting until young witchlings discovered what calling sung to them.
Taehyung’s born gift was herb work, helped discovered by the fact that his mother and grandmother were wood nymphs, both of them avid gardeners and occasional forest foragers. They’d taken him under their wing as a toddler, at first purely to just share something they enjoyed, only to later realize that the sparkle he’d had in his eyes when they were out in the greenhouse wasn’t due to childlike curiosity, but life-long passion blooming before them.
Needless to say, he spent as many summer day’s on his grandparents’ farm as possible and many more days with his mother in the garden, soaking things up like a sponge.
It had been quickly very clear he was extremely talented with herbs, even from a young age. He was never quite prodigy level, sure, but he excelled in learning the ropes of his born specialty faster than most witches his age picked up their own natural talents.
By eight, Taehyung could name well over half of the plants in the greenhouse just by smell, as well as recite their uses. At nine, listing their potential dangers was added to that. When he turned thirteen, his collection of thick herb books expanded from ten books to fifteen, and he read each one over and over. By seventeen, he was begging his parents to let him apply for his herbalist license early, impatient to wait for his next birthday.
On one hand, this seemed like a great thing. On the other hand…
Taehyung struggled to learn magic skills other than his natural affinity. This was pretty typical among young witches, but that didn’t stop it from discouraging him in school, put out by how other kids understood the assignments easily while he floundered, the main, important skills of spell and potion work difficult for him to grasp.
Turns out his problem had been nerves, because you can’t shake in your own boots while using magic and expect it to respond as you wished. But while that knowledge helped him improve his spell work, he barely passed his potion class in his last year of high school, spending countless hours hunched over textbooks and cauldrons, trying to understand what he was doing wrong so he could at least prove to his teacher he wasn’t a lost cause, that he was trying.
(She knew that, of course. She’d walked in on him in tears in the cauldron room during lunch more than once. He appreciated that she never made him talk about it; she’d just plop down beside him, offer him some of whatever she was snacking on, and politely request to observe. And when he was done, whether he failed or not, she’d stand up, pat him on the shoulder with a smile, and simply say as she started to help him clean up, “It’s a dance, Taehyung-ah. If you worry about having two left feet, you’re going to miss the beat. Trust yourself, hm?”)
He did end up passing, both by actual success and the extra credit he jumped on every chance he got. But it wasn’t an escape from potions. To be a freelance witch like he wanted, it was often highly recommended that you still be proficient in various types of magic work if you wanted to ensure steady business.
So here Taehyung was yet again.
“No, no,” he whined, flailing his hands frantically over the angrily bubbling cauldron. “Stop it!”
“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, the faerie’s tone concerned as he looked up from his own work, studying a journal on how ancient faeries revived entire forests after disasters in order to help a man who’s tree nursery had been destroyed in a fire.
(Taehyung had taken a peek at the journal when Jimin left it sitting out and immediately winced. Basic Old Fae was regularly taught in supernatural-based schools for the sake of familiarity, but that hardly made writing or speaking, let alone reading, the language any easier, even for modern Fae themselves. Taehyung’s appreciation for his best friend’s stubbornness grew at the sight of his page of messy translation notes. Trying to understand Theban writing made him want to throw things.)
Taehyung sighed, slumping defeatedly in his chair. He kicked the switch of the burner at the foot of the cauldron off. “This potion is being temperamental. The book said it was best to start at noon so it’d finish its brewing and be to its full potency by sunset, but it’s been three hours and it’s not cooperating.”
Jimin frowned. He stood, setting down the journal and wandering over to pet soothingly through Taehyung’s red hair. The two of them watched the orange concoction slowly calm as it cooled. “Maybe you put in the ingredients in the wrong order. Or an ingredient wasn’t as fresh as it needed to be,” he suggested gently.
Taehyung couldn’t help but sulk. You would think that, after graduating high school, working on his own would force him to improve if he wanted to be able to make an income. But that was the thing: while Taehyung was improving, it wasn’t at a very fast pace, which meant he sometimes spent way more time and money trying to perfect a potion for a client than was probably worth it. Taehyung was stubborn by nature, though, and when he wanted something, he didn’t quit until he succeeded. That’s how he’d made a name for himself as a freelancer, after all. He kept adjusting herbal remedies until they helped his customers as they needed, and somewhere along the line, people got the idea that if he was that persistent with remedies, he surely had to be with potions, as well.
And, annoyingly, they were right. He wouldn’t turn down a request even if he knew it was going to kick his ass. Did that lead to lots of sleepless nights and headaches? Yes. Did he care? No, because he was determined to improve and teach himself.
“I’ll have to start over tomorrow,” he muttered, covering his eyes with a palm. “And go grocery shopping tonight. I used the last of the carrots for this dumb potion.”
Jimin blinked. “Carrots? This is for that old man from last week with bad eyesight, right? The huge glasses dude? I thought carrots helping eyesight was a myth.”
“It’s half true, I think?” Taehyung shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s not my own potion, anyways. It’s from one of my old potion books, and if it says use carrots, then. Well. You use carrots.”
Jimin made an agreeable noise above him. Taehyung leaned back slightly, basking in the feeling of his best friend’s short fingers trailing through his hair.
“Tell you what. I have to run errands tonight anyway. If you make a list of anything you need, I’ll go get it for you while I’m out. You can stay here, clean up and set up whatever you’ll need for tomorrow, then relax for awhile. I’ll bring home some dinner, and we’ll eat together. You can even ask that brat you call your boyfriend to come eat, too, if you want.”
Taehyung sniffed a small giggle at Jimin’s prod at Jungkook, but he tilted his head back, staring at Jimin. Faeries, while usually pretty nice, tended to be rather mischievous by nature. Jimin was kind, but he was a little shit plenty of times as well, poking and teasing Taehyung with easy laughter.
“What’s the catch?” he asked warily.
Jimin snorted. “You’ve been working on potions back to back for days now,” he replied simply. “It’s been stressing you out, Taetae. Give yourself a little break before you go insane, yeah? Hyung can handle some shopping.”
He wasn’t wrong. Taehyung had been taking job after job, really more so as a chance to practice potion work than to make money. The annoyance and stress had been fizzling in his tense muscles for days.
Park Jimin, while a menace, was also the purest human alive. (Well, faerie, technically, but whatever.)
“Thank you, Hyung,” Taehyung said softly, touched.
Jimin preened at the use of the honorific, smiling so hard his cheeks pushed up and turned his eyes into crescents. “Say it again,” he teased as he walked toward the table to grab his keys.
“Thank you, Tiny-Hyung.”
He laughed, dodging the rag chucked his way.
✶
Jimin had only been gone for around an hour when Jungkook arrived at the apartment.
At his knock, Taehyung got to his feet from where he’d been wiping down the inside of the cauldron turned on its side.
The potion had been moved into a large bin that Seokjin and Namjoon had gifted him for his birthday. It was made specifically with magic workers in mind, intensely charmed to nullify the effects of whatever was dropped inside, making it extremely handy for failed and potentially hazardous potions, or items with negativities attached to them, such as cursed dolls.
With a small huff, the boy ruffled his hair, walking to the door and pulling it open. Jungkook smiled at him when they met eyes. “Hi, baby,” the younger greeted him, leaning to peck Taehyung on the lips.
With a happy hum, Taehyung took his hand and gently pulled him inside, pressing the door closed behind them. “What’ve you been up to?” he asked curiously, smiling a bit to himself at the way Jungkook trailed after him like an excited puppy.
“I’ve been helping Haseul and Namjoon-hyung organize all the books and tomes and scrolls and all that stuff at The Rkive all day,” Jungkook recounted, plopping down to sit beside Taehyung. He took the wet, soapy rag the red haired man offered, starting to scrub the exterior of the cauldron without needing to be asked.
Despite all the times he could be arrogant and bratty, Jungkook loved to help his friends in any way he could. It was one of the many reasons why Taehyung loved him so much.
“That must have been boring.”
“Kind of,” Jungkook admitted. Then his nose twitched cutely as he smiled. “But nothing is ever completely boring with Joon-hyung. He’s always got cool tidbits of information to drop at random moments, you know? You just gotta be listening for them. And it’s always fun to hang out with Haseulie, even when she’s in cleaning mode.” He shrugged and grinned. “Plus, I got fed lunch, so I can’t complain.”
Taehyung laughed.
They worked silently for some time, scrubbing and wiping down the dark metal of the cauldron, then drying it off. After they’d moved it out of the way to the side of the room, Taehyung huffing a bit with the exertion, Jungkook glanced over at the abandoned potion where it was sitting in the Null Tub.
“I guess this one didn’t work out?” he questioned, peering into it. Taehyung sighed, wrapping his arms around the boy’s smaller waist and leaning into him.
“No, it didn’t.” The lingering frustration was clear in his voice. “I don’t know why. I keep trying all these potions, and it feels like it takes damn forever and who knows how many tries for them to work out correctly.”
Jungkook made a small noise. His hands rested over Taehyung’s, fingers tracing his knuckles. “You’ll get it, baby,” he encouraged. “It takes a lot of practice, but you’ll get it. Don’t give up.”
Taehyung closed his eyes, resting his head against his boyfriend’s back. “I just... Sometimes, I feel like I’m not good enough,” he whispered. He hated voicing his doubts, but he knew he could trust the younger. “Seokjin-hyung taught himself how to make potions and do spells and charms. It’s so easy for him. I don’t understand why I can’t do it. I’ll have all the materials, the instructions right in front of me, and yet I always just... fuck it up.”
“Oh, Taehyung,” Jungkook breathed. Carefully, he turned around in the elder’s grasp, his hands coming to tenderly cup Taehyung’s face. “Love, it’s okay to compare styles and things of that sort, but not if you’re doing it just to tear yourself down. Everyone learns things at different paces. You know potions are Hyung’s born specialty. Of course they come easily to him. And for everything else, just because it’s easy for Hyung now, doesn’t mean it always was. I’m sure he struggled plenty, too.”
Jungkook bit his lip, hesitating, before suggesting softly, “Why don’t you talk to Seokjin-hyung? You don’t have to do an apprenticeship if you don’t want to, but maybe Hyung can give you some advice or pointers. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”
Taehyung frowned, pouting a little at him. But Jungkook was giving him that look, the one that always screamed please do what I say, puppy dog eyes in full force.
“Alright,” he relented, sighing. “I’ll talk to Hyung.”
Jungkook’s expression went from pleading to ecstatic. He pressed a kiss to Taehyung’s temple, a small squeeze following right after. “It’ll all work out,” he hummed. “You’ll see.”
✶
Sunlight filtered into Taehyung’s bedroom the morning after, weak through the translucent curtains, but there nonetheless.
The boy groaned, stretching his legs under the blankets, curling and spreading his fingers as he yawned quietly. Slowly, he blinked his blurry eyes open.
A brushing against the fabric of his shirt had him directing his eyes downward.
“Oh,” Taehyung murmured, voice thick with sleep and amusement. “Good morning.”
There, sitting in the middle of his chest, was Jungkook.
Well, not exactly.
Rabbit Jungkook’s eyes stared into Taehyung’s, cotton tail brushing his stomach. Small and cute with gray fur and an adorably pink tinted nose, the boy could fit into two hands easily in such form.
Jungkook’s nose twitched, his whiskers bouncing with the movement. He made a strange, honk-like sniffing noise, thrusting his head down against Taehyung’s chest and rubbing against it like a cat.
Taehyung chuckled. He brought a hand up to pet between two long, perky ears, then ran his fingers down the rabbit’s back.
“Thank you,” Taehyung told him quietly. The pair of eyes that looked up at him were curious. “For last night. I needed someone to talk to. I’m happy you’re always there.”
Jungkook stared. Then he hopped forward with a purpose, his fur tickling Taehyung’s skin as they touched noses. The rabbit gave a happy squeak.
“Yeah,” Taehyung hummed affectionately, a fond smile curling upon his lips. “I love you, too.”