Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jimin wakes up to gentle fingers running down his back. There is magic in the air as he tastes it, the ripeness that comes before rainstorms and lightning. He hisses something soft, a murmur of a sound that carries no meaning but a grumble of being awoken. The laughter that rings around him is deep, a warm sound that curls around Jimin like crackling warmth of a burning fireplace.

“Come on now, we have work to do, Jimin,” the deep voice rumbles like distant thunder.

The fingers don’t stop their travel down Jimin’s back, they stay gentle and unhurried as the path they take curls along with the diamonds of Jimin’s scales. It’s a ritual and it’s not. Something just between them, a gesture of weight when it’s between them and also of complete uselessness when others see it. No one else would try it, not when they know they look at Jimin and feel only fear.

Only Namjoon knows how it feels to be loved by Jimin, the warmth and sweetness of Jimin’s protection and help. The burn of Jimin’s expectations and the gaze that evaluates his worth and power.

With a sigh Jimin uncurls from where he has been sleeping in the last moments of warm sunshine and soft moss. His tongue flickers out and tastes the air, the heavy scent of herbs that never truly leaves Namjoon’s skin – it has seeped so deep into the man after so many years. He hisses a low greeting, a good morning  and hello entwined into one sound that only Namjoon understands.

“Morning to you too. Although it’s the middle of the day by now.” Namjoon laughs once more, his aura calm and collected. He lets his palm rest on the damp earth and waits patiently for Jimin to slither up using it, hums a tiny grunt when Jimin wraps himself around his shoulders and chest. “You’ve gotten heavier. Did you eat something before your nap?”

“A rabbit. It smelled of blood before I even got to it, so it let me catch it. Smart rabbit.” Jimin flickers his tongue against Namjoon’s cheek and curls himself tighter together, a little annoyed when the man’s comment truly catches up. “I’m not fat.”

Namjoon straightens out and arranges his hood to cover most of Jimin as well. “I didn’t say you were, just that you’re heavy.”

“Same thing.” Jimin blinks lazily as the forest moves past him slowly, the mossy road taking him and his human towards the town where it’s loud and smelly.

For a while there are no words said, nothing exchanged. Only the sky above rumbles more often with preparation for the storm that is to come. Perhaps unnoticed by humans, but Jimin can smell the change, the same way Namjoon has long since learned to read the winds’ songs. The town looms closer and closer, although only the chimney that smoke rises above the rooftops iis the only thing properly visible of it for now. But even from here Jimin can already tell that something is wrong, a dark stain has settled between the mud and the wooden buildings, stinking up the place.

“Something smells there,” Jimin grumbles in Namjoon’s ear.

“Mhmmm. Seokjin sent a crow after us a while back, that’s why I woke you up. Seems like they came especially for us.” Namjoon runs his fingers atop Jimin’s scaly head as a way to calm both himself and Jimin, to make sure their connection thrums with closeness that only they share between themselves.

Jimin hums, almost a purr if he could make the sound, at the touch. “I hope it’s not some nasty spells. Those always taste horrible.”

“We’ll have to see. But Seokjin didn’t sound urgent.” Namjoon looks up at the sky, eyes narrowed in thought. He shakes his head, careful not to jostle Jimin around too much, and picks up his speed towards the town. It’s no good to be caught up in rain, if it does come sooner than the winds first expect it to. Any good warlock knows that they sometimes like to play around and lie.

…

Jimin wraps himself tighter around Namjoon’s neck. The humans of this town know them, they know that Jimin is special , should not and cannot be touched. But there are memories that remind him of a different time and life, a time when he had to run from them, had to be careful not to be seen or heard. It may have been years ago, but to Jimin those are fresh memories. Painful memories.

And even with them he doesn’t know what he really is. Was .

“This one feels different.” Namjoon licks his bottom lip in thought. There is a black crow flying above them, following their path.

Jimin hisses a tiny hum of agreement. It’s in the air, after all. A sharp, biting scent of wrongness that seeps in the tiniest of corners and most tightly wrapped up boxes.

Seokjin’s house is almost in the center of the town. A little to the side, a two-story wooden thing that seems to be holding on by the barkeeper’s willpower alone. Jimin loves it, usually. It’s full with the kind of magic that comes from years of gentle and genuine care and love. From the smallest of vines and leaves to the most walked-on splinter – the tavern is a place that Jimin would gladly call home if Namjoon had never found him.

But today is different. Today there is something invading the tranquility of Seokjin’s home.

Namjoon has only just raised his hand for a knock when the door is wrenched open. 

“Ah, you were waiting, weren’t you?” The warlock grins an easy smile, uncaring of the worry lining Seokjin’s beautiful face.

“I thought I made that clear in my message.” Seokjin clicks his tongue as he steps away to let the warlock in. His eyes linger on Jimin. “They showed up yesterday evening and asked for you. One of them knew you live somewhere around here.”

Namjoon finally drops the hood off from his head, lets his fingers linger on the curls of Jimin’s body. He draws a rune on Jimin’s scaly side, featherlight and meant for protection, for courage. It’s not for Jimin’s sake, but more his own. Another ritual that has come about after so long spent together.

“Well, finding one of my kind has always been a test in its own. If they pass, they really need me.” Namjoon turns around to look outside of the tavern windows once, grimaces at something that only he can sense. “The storm, huh.”

Seokjin sighs. He seems tired, wary. But his gaze speaks of gratitude and fondness unlike the previous nervousness. “Yes, well, that’s great. Just… Please go and see what they want. One of them looked worried this morning.”

Jimin doesn’t pay the two humans any attention. Instead, he raises towards the ceiling, tongue darting out again and again to taste the air, take in the nastiness that hovers above him, the reason why the town seems to be covered the smog of dark .

“It stinks,” Jimin hisses.

Namjoon hums.

The door to the room is left open. The two men inside are ragged and tired, but still hopeful when they notice Namjoon lingering at the threshold. Jimin doesn’t care about the two wary glances sent his way, his attention focused on the bag left by one of the beds. The reason why the two travelers are here, the reason why Namjoon is needed.

“Hello. Namjoon, the warlock, yes?” The shorter of the two stands to speak. The action is stiff and reluctant, as if it’s uncomfortable for the man to do so. “I’m Yoongi, I work for a man named V. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”

“Ah, him. I do know of him.” Namjoon nods, smiles. When he steps inside of the tiny room, he closes the door behind him. There is a tiny rune for privacy left on the handle when the warlock pulls his hand away. “Before we start, do you mind if my familiar roams about? He likes exploring.”

Yoongi’s fingers twitch, his face unchanging while his body language speaks of reluctance. He exchanges a silent question with his partner, wrinkles his nose at the shrug that is given as an answer. “If the snake doesn’t attack us.”

“Jimin is more than that.” Namjoon doesn’t elaborate. He does crouch down to allow Jimin to slide down his arm, onto the floor and under one of the beds.

“His leg is bad,” Jimin hisses as he disappears into the dusty underneath of the bed, his scales already turned matte from the filth that has gathered there for days and, maybe, even years. The two jumps are fun to see and feel, even more so when he knows it’s because of him.

Namjoon dusts off the knees of his pants. “Don’t mind him. Now, what did you need me for. I’ve heard that V is more than capable of handling some magic on his own.”

Yoongi sits back down on the bed. His body sags in relief. “He can, but this is outside of his skills. There are many rumors about you.”

While the men talk Jimin slowly raises his body parallel to the tiny table that the bag is sitting on. The closer he gets the less it stinks. It’s not the object itself, Jimin thinks, but something that has been anchored to it. Or infused in it. Despite working with Namjoon for years Jimin can’t tell the difference, doesn’t really care to anyway. His job is not magic and reasons. He is here to channel, to devour and tear apart that, which Namjoon pulls out.

“We found it in one of the sites. If it were a usual object then V could have just cleansed it and we could move on. But nothing happened when V tried, apart from a man dying and the… mist getting thicker,” Yoongi explains. His voice is pleasant, a cat’s rumble and drunk’s slur stitched into one. “Jungkook here knew where to look for you.”

Namjoon turns from Yoongi to Jungkook. He feels wise and old. “That’s an interesting thing you brought me, then.”

A nasty, grating sound comes from somewhere deep inside of Yoongi. “Sure, interesting. A fucking magical trash that kills innocent people.”

“To you, sure. To me it’s something else.” Namjoon is calm in the center of a brewing storms inside and outside of the room. His tone is light and truthful, almost playful as he takes Yoongi’s ire and molds it into meaningless sounds.

Jimin noses the bag and pulls back when the scent makes his nose itch, insides squirm in distaste. “This will ruin my rabbit. I don’t like this at all .”

Until now Jungkook had not said a word, but finally the youngest of them all breathes out a startled laugh. “Isn’t this a bit more important than a rabbit, snake?”

Jimin turns to Jungkook and flicks his tongue. There is a scar on the man’s cheek, sage somewhere on his body. There’s nothing negative hanging around Jungkook, not like Jimin is used to being around humans save for Namjoon. There is more there, inside. But Jimin isn’t here to discover buried secrets and new truths.

“To you humans, maybe.” Jimin can feel the rabbit he ate earlier inside his belly. It’s a heavy, pleasant weight that he doesn’t want to ruin with whatever nasty thing that lives within the bag.

“I told you, Jimin is more than that,” Namjoon cuts in smooth like water. There is sharpness to him that is hidden within the depths, the waves of his calmness a distraction masking a dagger that never grows dull. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Yoongi’s fingers massage his thigh in slow circles. “V wants the object back unharmed.”

Jimin plops back down on the floor and makes his way back to Namjoon. Jungkook is watching him, but still not with either fear or malice. Perhaps, the man has never seen a true familiar, perhaps he just likes snakes. Jimin doesn’t care, he never has or will for anyone other than Namjoon.

Namjoon doesn’t make promises. He hums, bends down to let Jimin use his hand as a way up and around his upper body. The bag’s stench dims in intensity when Namjoon picks it up, but not by much. A curse, after all, doesn’t lessen just because a warlock holds it in his palm and observes it as it were a new plaything to pick apart part by part.

“Jimin is right, Yoongi, you should let a healer look over your leg. It’s not good to let it fester.” Namjoon erases the rune he left on the doorknob when he grasps it again.

…

“Yoongi is coming over,” Namjoon says. His voice barely travels over the constant rumble of rain that makes all other sounds obsolete. Today the man smells of pine smoke and running water, of frustrated excitement.

It has been raining ever since Namjoon took the bag and brought it here. The forest doesn’t seem to mind the rain, everything with it reaching towards the skies as if searching for more water. There are animals hidden in burrows and caves, some that still make their way through the downpour, uncaring of the weather and only thinking of their next meal, of the smothered scent of predators that lurk around, hidden behind the curtain of raindrops.

Jimin breathes in deep and slithers even closer to the fireplace. He’s cold, been cold ever since the rain started. The rabbit in his stomach has long since disappeared, digested into nothing. He’s freezing. He’s hungry. But it’s so hard to move, so hard to force himself to think of anything, to care and be interested in whatever Namjoon has found out and cracked in terms of the cursed object.

“Jimin?” Namjoon calls from within the house. This time he sounds and feels confused, perhaps a little worried.

Jimin hisses, flicks his tongue towards the slowly gleaming embers that still cling to their fiery life. He wonders if it’s smart to burrow between them, curl inside the lingering warmth still available to him. Jimin moves slowly, the weariness  and cold weighing him down like it usually does during winter months.

Just as the tip of Jimin’s nose pokes the metal fence at the front Namjoon steps into the room. There are round glasses perched on the man’s nose, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows. Jimin ignores the warlock and tries to find a hole wide enough for him in the fence, but before he has managed to do so Namjoon pulls him away.

“No.” Jimin hisses. His body twists as it hangs in the air, held up only by Namjoon’s hands. “Let me down, I want to go inside the warmth.”

Namjoon breathes hard, though he is gentle in handling Jimin. “Not in there. You may be magical, but you’re not fireproof. You’ll burn.” The man holds Jimin close to his body then, like a mother would cradle her child.

It’s warm like this. Jimin pokes his head in Namjoon’s armpit, always in search for more warmth, the warmest place he can get into. “This is your fault.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Namjoon agrees.

Jimin opens one eyes and watches Namjoon’s hand move through the air. He has seen the warlock weave his spells many a time, but he never tires of it. The delicate way the man’s fingers rise and dip with every rune that shines in the air for just a second, the dancer’s grace that follows the sway of Namjoon’s arm and murmured spell – magic has never been seen as art, but Jimin thinks it should be counted as one.

These kinds of spells, the harmless and pure ones, they always smell floral. Like a new morning, almost. Jimin would usually scent the air throughout the whole process and absorb as much of magic residue as he can, but today he is tired.

“Here. I’m sorry I didn’t notice anything sooner.” Namjoon is gentle as he puts Jimin down, settles his long, scaly body in as tiny a pile as possible atop the pool of soothing warmth. “I almost broke our promise.”

Jimin would purr if he knew how to. “But you didn’t. That thing is messing with everything.”

On the table the object that used to be in the bag pulses once. It’s a human skull with open eye sockets and neat, white teeth. It has otherwise turned yellow with age, with spiderwebs crisscrossing inside of it to make an intricate labyrinth of the space. In the thin, age-worn forehead bone there is one, dull jewel that absorbs any light that hits it.

“It is. But I think I can manage to break it, though it’s not a curse. Or it didn’t start as one.” Namjoon slides his fingers along Jimin’s back, lightly pets the top of his head. There is still magic clinging onto the warlock’s fingertips and he gladly leaves it behind on Jimin’s scales.

Outside the rain continues to fall. There is thunder drumming along the clouds in the distance, the echo of it travels through the drops and bounces off trees. It’s an illusion that seems to be bigger than it should be, one that scares children and overly believing humans into obedience. The knock that comes from the door is nothing but a mockery of the thunder, but it is far more real.

“That must be Yoongi. And his friend as well, it seems.” Namjoon stands up and with him some of the plants stand straighter as well.

Not even umbrellas had managed to protect the two hired hands from the rain’s damage. They come in dripping and wet to the bone, shivering and teeth clattering a strange rhythm. Namjoon moves his hands through the air and this time Jimin does raise his head enough in the air to scent the magic, to try and catch whatever might float his way by accident.

Yoongi’s and Jungkook’s clothes dry with every three ticks of a clock. First there are tiny patches that soon grow out of the dark tones of a wet cloth and return to the light color that their shirts and pants were meant to be. Jimin watches them settle down on a couple of well-worn chairs, very obviously relieved to be there and out of the rain, to no longer have rainwater stick to their skin like slime.

“It’s cold here as well,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath. He has his eyebrows furrowed, a harsh drip on the canvas that makes his face age by years.

Namjoon has fire crackling in the fireplace already, there’s cups of tea on the table, where before there was nothing. His opened coat has been buttoned shut and wrapped around his waist as tight as it can go. Jimin sighs where he sleeps on his tiny pocket of forever-warmth, slowly thawing the curse residues out of his system.

“Yeah, that’s both your problematic skull and the nature of where I live. The magics are too different, they clash. But the weather is… well, the weather.” Namjoon tries to smile but it slips off his face like water as quickly as it bloomed. He takes another cup of tea and leaves it on the floor, next to Jimin.

Yoongi raises one eyebrow as he follows the warlock’s track. “The snake also gets a cup? I thought familiars only need magic, and the like.” There is something weird in his voice, in frantic taps of his fingers along his thighs.

“I’m special like that.” Jimin knows he’s not as loud as he can be, but that doesn’t seem to matter. He was heard and that’s all that matters. Peppermint wafts from the cup and Jimin breathes it in, holds it inside of him and waits until the steam soaks into his lungs.

Namjoon stands before the skull. “Jimin is, yeah.” He cups the top of the skull, lets his palm settle over the curve of the bone and the jewel that doesn’t belong atop of it. “This one. It’s a spell, mutated into curse. A dark thing indeed.”

“Can you get rid of it?” Yoongi doesn’t seem too interested in the details – the why, how and when. The man’s nose twitches when he brings the cup of up for a sip. “I don’t care about what it is. V didn’t seem to care either.”

Jungkook has not look away from Jimin this whole time.

“Ah, you young ones are truly impatient and shallow.” Namjoon caresses the skull like it’s precious, a wounded child that has come for reassurance. “Always in a hurry to just destroy and done with it. Magic doesn’t work that way.”

Yoongi’s face twists in annoyance, his body taut with something Jimin doesn’t know how to name. But the intent of anger and, maybe, attack is there, in the shadows that curl around Yoongi’s tiny but broad frame, in the sudden alertness that flits over Jungkook. Namjoon still has his back turned, though he must know what is going on.

Jimin twists on his spot, unfurls and twists his body into loose loops, ready to defend as he promised to do years ago. There is the familiar tingling setting into his bones, twisting his flesh and making his scales shift. A change that he hates, but welcomes anyway.

“ Listen , we don’t have time for this magic bullshit. Just get rid of it like I asked and be done with this.” Yoongi raises from his chair, chest puffed and everything about him twisted into sudden agitation, rudeness that has no visible seed to grow from.

Jungkook reaches out, but flinches back halfway to Yoongi’s hand. He seems unsure, a little bit confused. Still so young, Jimin thinks as he watches the youngest of them all turn towards Namjoon with a plea in his eyes and silence on his lips.

Namjoon is calmness in the middle of a storm. “Jungkook, did he carry the skull the whole way to here?”

“W-what? I mean, yeah. Why?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows once more and it still ages him in a way that seems wrong. Though the way he reaches and hold the hilt of his sword speaks of experience earned the hard way. The way that leaves behind handprints and scars.

Namjoon hums. “Jimin, are you up to it?”

And Jimin is already changing. His body grows and stretches, bones break only to shift and rearrange, extend and duplicate. It’s easy to change shapes now. It used to bring Jimin nothing but pain, lingering discomfort and unwillingness to completely give into his new self.

Jungkook looks stunned, even Yoongi’s eyes are wide and mouth parted in shock, when Jimin stands before the two of them as human. There is no actual magic that he can wield, not the way that Namjoon has been born to do. But Namjoon also refuses to harm innocents with the power that courses through his blood, so Jimin steps in in times like this.

“Told you, I’m special.” Jimin grins, is unashamed of the snake-fangs that push against his bottom lip and are full of poison. There is a smattering of scales that run down one side of his face, pale but still there, that pull against his skin, still tender from the change. “And more than your sword can handle.”

There is a curse lingering on Yoongi as well, just like it had seeped into Jimin. But in the man it’s stronger, having grown and festered for a while, feeding from Yoongi’s emotions. Jimin is strong, to him it’s nothing but tiredness and cold. For a simple human it’s much more than that. It’s mold that clings onto Yoongi’s every breath and rational thought, muddles everything in its way.

“Get away.” Yoongi steps back, overturns the chair behind him.

Jimin moves swiftly, like he would as snake, fingers already wrapped around Yoongi’s elbow before anything can happen. The man shouts, struggles, but Jimin grins wider and pushes him down, cheek pressing onto the rough wood of the floor and arm bent behind his back.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook is still clutching onto the hilt of his sword, though there is hesitance in his scent.

“I need to get the bad magic out of him, then make sure you’re fine as well.” Namjoon moves around the tiny kitchen. Jars clink as he moves and pushes them around, there is something glittery already shining inside the pestle, dark liquid dripping slowly down its side.

Jimin glances at Jungkook, kinder than he had been to Yoongi, and tries to be calming, reassuring. “This happens sometimes. But doesn’t show so quickly, he must be sensitive. Once Namjoon helps him it should be back to normal.”

Beneath Jimin, Yoongi grunts and kicks out, struggling in vain. Jungkook releases his sword, but seems worried anyway. He’s young, still young. Jimin exchanges glances with Namjoon.

…

“What are you giving him?” Jungkook is standing now, away from the other three. He smells like a misty forest.

Jimin tightens his hold around Yoongi, makes sure the man can’t flail his arms around. The smoke from the remedy that Namjoon prepared wafts in his face, thick and hard to breathe in. But not all magic is easy. To do harm is easy, when the consequences are negative it’s easy as breathing to cast the spell and mix the brew. Healing is hard. Fixing what is broken or invaded is hard for both the one with the magic and the one being cured and fixed.

“It’s morning smoke. The magic hasn’t affected Yoongi as much as it could have, so I don’t need to make something stronger. Though, this won’t be easy either.” Namjoon rakes his hand through Yoongi’s hair, snaps the man’s head back and holds it still as the smoke tumbles upwards, inside.

Yoongi coughs and whines. There is resistance against Jimin’s hold, and it doesn’t feel like the curse alone. Yoongi is also fighting, still conscious enough to, probably, be aware of what is going on. But Jimin knows that it’s hard to fight something that is meant to lure you into a hazy headspace of a muffled world, where you’re vulnerable and defenseless. Easy to manipulate.

Namjoon speaks the language of magic. His voice is a quiet rumble, enough so that Jungkook doesn’t hear, but loud enough for it to wrap around Jimin and Yoongi both. There is a plea of safety and luck wrapped in the centuries old syllables, a prayer of belief to a higher power. Jimin curls his lips when he feels magic brush against his skin, but stays silent and attentive to Yoongi.

“Maybe you should bite him?” Namjoon mutters under his breath and breathed the last of the smoke into Yoongi’s lungs.

Jimin hisses. In human form the sound is not as pronounced, since his throat is different, tongue too big. But it still carries the clear and definitive refusal towards Namjoon’s proposition. “I will not .”

There is a sudden shift in the air, a kind of flinch that has comes as natural response to possible danger. Jungkook’s eyes lose his frightened wonder and instantly narrow into the predator that hides within the human skin. “I won’t let you do that.”

Jimin knows how he looks glaring over Yoongi’s shoulder, past Namjoon’s wide frame. He smells the changes in air, sees the way Jungkook’s body settles and changes just subtly enough to mask the readiness for a fight, if one should come. He grins, teeth sharp in his mouth and aura threatening. “Don’t worry, I refuse to waste my poison for something like this. Not even for Namjoon.”

“It would make it easier.” Namjoon moves away.

The fire has finally warmed the house enough to feel comfortable. A shining shield now encircles the skull – Namjoon’s doing before he properly started on the cure for Yoongi. Jimin can hear it beating against the shimmering gold bubble, the blackness of the nasty magic living within the skull. He wants to hiss at it too, but knows it would futile.

Now nestled in Jimin’s arms Yoongi sighs and falls asleep.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Jungkook kneels before his friend, Yoongi’s hands held in his. “He’ll be fine now, right?”

Namjoon smiles kindly, reassuringly. Only Namjoon can create an aura like that, or say a million things with a look alone. It has nothing to do with magic and everything with the warlock himself. “He will. But I don’t think we’ll talk about V’s request today, not anymore.”

Outside the rain falls.

Jungkook looks up at Jimin, down on Yoongi’s slumped form. There is worry weaved in the gentle slope of his nose, in the shadowed slash of his jawline. “I don’t suppose it will be smart to bring Yoongi back to the tavern?”

“Not really. But going out in the storm would be stupid. I have a room I can lend you two.” Namjoon looks outside in thought. His gaze travels along the water sliding down the window panes, then back towards the skull. “I wonder.”

No longer needed, Jimin lets go of Yoongi and feels inside of himself for that tickle of change, the snake part of him that is always, always there. The change back is quick – clothes meld into his skin, patches of scales expand and cover everything, bones shrink down painlessly. As a snake now Jimin falls on the floor with a dull thud . He hisses once in discomfort and then makes his way back to the magical warmth still gleaming invitingly.

Jungkook is back to a curious child, jaw strangely set and out of place for the thrum of interest that Jimin can feel in the air. A mystery for another day.

“Come on, I will show you the way.” Namjoon finally breaks the stalemate and moves to cover Yoongi’s forehead with his palm. “Sleep will do good.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook picks up Yoongi and follows. His pants brush against Jimin once when he passes the snake.

…

During the night Jimin dreams. Of warm sunlight, of easygoing days, of a heart-shaped smile.

Nights with this dream are the hardest.

…

“So, it changed?” Yoongi is still pale, rumpled like old sheets.

Namjoon doesn’t smile, not exactly, but Jimin can see a tiny shine of fond and special shining through the patient hum of acknowledgement. The snake stays quiet and out of the way for once, curled inside one of the tiny cabinets and looking out to the world from a tiny slit in the cabinet doors. He doesn’t want to be seen and looked at today. Perhaps it’s the magic. Perhaps the strange way Jungkook tracked his every move in the morning.

“Yes. The magic was intended to be used, but with so many years it stayed dormant… Misuse and time wear away and change magic, even the strongest and best kind. Just like it does humans.” Namjoon has his palm on the skull again. The silver bracelet on the warlock’s wrist tinkles.

Yoongi bites his lips redder than they already are. Jimin can smell dull pain coming from the man’s leg today as well. “But it’s dangerous. Now, I mean.”

Jungkook shifts in his chair, glances around. Today his sword is not hanging from the man’s hip, but, instead, has been left leaning against the wall of the tiny kitchen. Jimin blinks once, slowly. It’s not smart to trust so easily, not even when Namjoon has done nothing but help.

“Now, yes. But it wasn’t meant to be when it was cast. Or, I don’t think so. The base of it is still there, useless and inactive, but not malicious. Neutral, I would say.” Namjoon pets the top of the skull like one would a small child.

Jimin isn’t needed here, not now. Or at all, maybe. But staying hidden works for the time being, away from Namjoon and the two humans, hidden in this tiny spot where no one can see him, find him. Namjoon’s magic slides along his scales from time to time, as if trying to make sure that he is fine, that he’s here and not affected by the skull’s magic.

There are things said that Jimin doesn’t pay attention to anymore. Instead he stretches out and slithers through the labyrinth of passageways winding through the house walls, made by rodents that allow Jimin to use them from time to time. They are a fast way to move about when Jimin wants to stay unseen, wants to leave quickly and easily.

Outside the air feels like a fresh start. There is still the scent of rain hanging heavy, saturated with lightning. But the water gathered in the grass feels nice against the itch of Jimin’s scales. It’s an aftereffect of his shift, a punishment for not doing it as often as he should.

But Jimin likes being a snake. For all the stigma that follows that form it’s still more freeing that being a human. Or, someone that looks like a human.

Not even Jimin remembers what came first – the snake or the man.

He slithers between rows of Namjoon’s herbs and the earth vibrates under Jimin’s belly with movement above and below. There are many scents wrapped in the after-rain, a palette of everything that creates an artwork not meant for just anyone.

Jimin isn’t that hungry yet, but he wants a hunt. There is too much that he feels now, the unease that Yoongi and Jungkook brought upon him the biggest one of them all. Usually a hunt helps. Jimin slips into the snake more, forgets the other half of himself and forgets. There is only his animal and his instincts. No worries, no fear, not even magic.

Before Jimin has raised his head above the tall grass the doors to Namjoon’s house opens and someone comes out. Jimin hisses, agitated and annoyed, slithers deeper into the overgrowth that his warlock never bothers to maintain. The grass rustles but not loud enough for any human to hear, the sway easily masked thanks to the wind.

“Jimin?” Jungkook’s voice carries across the tiny herb garden and almost into the forest that spans out before the house.

More footsteps that come closer to where Jimin has hidden himself underneath a wild shrub. With a flick of his tongue Jimin tests the air, tastes the confusion that comes off from the human in waves, it seems. Because of the sun Jungkook’s face is hidden from Jimin’s gaze.

“Uh… Jimin? I just, could we talk? Please?” Jungkook looks around, and with his back turned to the sun and shadows now playing across the bridge of his nose the way his mouth has turned down into a slight pout is easy to see. “Namjoon said you might be out here somewhere.”

There is a thrum of affirmation that flows through the bond that Jimin shares with Namjoon, a light plea to hear the young one out. Jimin flickers his tongue out once more, curls his body around the trunk of the brush. He could listen, but does he really need to? And why should Jungkook’s thoughts and needs matter to him that much anyway?

“What do you want?” Jimin hisses out eventually. The tip of his tail flicks against the ground and kicks up a bit of wet dirt and pine needles.

Jungkook looks around in confusion, then scratches the back of his head. “Could, um, can you turn into human while we talk? Please?”

Jimin can guess why. But he’s annoyed and stubborn and doesn’t like to be human at all. For Namjoon, sometimes, at most. “I don’t want to. If that’s all you want, then I’m leaving.” He turns away from the human and into the forest.

“Wait! Sorry, you don’t have to, sorry. I wanted to... ask something, to you. I didn’t know you were cursed, so--”

“I’m not cursed .” Jimin’s hiss is more of an angry spit than a reply, a garbled noise that he doesn’t make often. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

The anger is back. Jimin moves fast, uncaring of what Jungkook calls after him and the confusion that Namjoon seems to emit. After years with the warlock it’s simple to cut off a part of the bond and be alone, to disappear from a tiny part of Namjoon’s magic and just disappear into the undergrowth of the forest.

Up ahead there are tiny rodents and rabbits – a hunt in the waiting. Jimin twists in-between tree roots and fallen branches and scents the air to know where to go. A hunt is easy and simple. A hunt is what he needs right now.

…

“That boy didn’t mean what you think he did.” Namjoon is cradling the skull in his hands, only now the bone is no longer home to the jewel. There are deep, dark circles under the warlock’s eyes.

Jimin hasn’t seen the man in three days, since that day after the storm, and he does feel regret. Regret for not being there when Namjoon obviously needed him, the magical balance that only a familiar can provide, a well that gives when it is needed. But Jimin refuses to feel true guilt in the face of being hurt himself and unwilling to be in Jungkook’s presence more than needed.

“Did he.” It’s not a question and Jimin won’t pretend to care about explanations.

Namjoon turns the skull around in his hands, so that the jaw is upside down and he can peer into the curved inside of the forehead bone. “He didn’t tell me what he meant to say, since it’s not for me to hear. But it wasn’t meant to hurt.”

“He said I was cursed.” Jimin’s hisses are once again bordering agitated and annoyed. Despite the hunt, the day spent in the mindset of a snake, rather than the state of in-between that he adapts usually. “I am neither a curse, nor curs ed . Before he knew of the human I was looked at as some freak, now it’s pity. I refuse both.”

In the absence of Jimin’s sharp hisses there is only the bubbling of a potion and the quiet song of a cicada outside the musty windows. The storm outside might have passed with no problems, but inside it still rumbles in the shadows and dust-covered shelves.

“No, you’re neither,” Namjoon finally breathes out and his voice is sad. Sad for Jimin, as it always is when this topic comes up.

Jimin hesitates for but a moment before he slithers to curl around and up Namjoon’s leg. The warlock puts away the skull and instead slides his fingers gently over Jimin’s scaled back, lets his magic scatter along the grooves and catch onto where dirt is stuck to Jimin still.

The memory is still far away, but Jimin remembers being small, tiny enough to fit into the palm of Namjoon’s hand, when the warlock found him. The stronger their bond became the larger Jimin grew, the more his own truth came to be seen. Namjoon never asked and Jimin has never told. Though, Jimin no longer remembers what came first – the snake or the human. He’s both and he is neither. And nothing more truly matters.

Outside the sun sets slowly, like a heavy jar filled with burning fire would sink down into murky lake waters. Jimin rests against the rise and fall of Namjoon’s chest and dreams of elven fingers and promises never to come through. If he could, Jimin would cry in his sleep.

Instead, Namjoon holds him through the night and allows his magic to draw out gentle dreams instead of nightmares.

…

Namjoon leaves for the town with Jimin wrapped around his shoulders as usual. This time, however, the familiar is under Namjoon’s coat, so that only his head can be seen if he peeks through the warlock’s hair. It’s warm. Jimin breathes in deep the scent of herbs and magic as usual, basks in the closeness that always calms him down with how simple it can be.

“Did you dream of him again?” Namjoon asks as they near the town. The man stops to read the winds just for a tiny moment, hums along the whoosh and crinkle of leaves that follow.

Jimin’s sigh is but a tiny hiss. “Yes. It’s weird, not like the usual.”

Namjoon tickles his finger along the underside of Jimin’s head, where the scales are softer and more giving. “Perhaps something will happen. Or so I think, from what you have told me of him.”

It’s colder than previous days, though not as cold as it was during the storm, when the skull still housed magic gone bad and harmful, when it felt like Jimin is slowly turning into ice. A calm day. Even nature seems to be relaxed and gently nudges Namjoon forward in her own ways. Closer to the town, where forest has given way to open fields, there are cows and horses grazing along.

Seokjin is busy when Namjoon walks into the tavern. There are people quietly talking amongst themselves, mostly tired landowners, with some travelers scattered about. Despite everything, though, Seokjin does greet Namjoon with a smile and nod towards the second floor, a tiny sign that Yoongi and Jungkook are waiting.

Though, before Namjoon has had the chance to climb up, Seokjin stops the warlock with a tiny, surprised sound. “No Jimin today? I thought you two were inseparable.”

“Ahh, not today.” Namjoon smiles and Jimin can smell the tinge of sadness that seeps out just a little. “One of the two said some things… You can imagine how Jimin felt.”

Understanding dawns on Seokjin’s face and he sighs. Despite the man’s own unsureness the first time he met Jimin, now the tavern owner is quite fond of the familiar. “Well, better he stays home then. He does have quite the temper.”

“We thought the same.” Namjoon nods once and makes his way up.

Just like when they first met, Namjoon puts a spell on the door as he closes it, greets the two men and stays standing. Jimin stays wrapped around the warlock, hidden from sight. He can smell and hear just fine, Jungkook’s confusion the most pungent scent of all, in this room at least.

“Hello. I come with happy news, for V especially, I suppose.” Namjoon unhooks a satchel from his side and hands it out to Yoongi. It no longer smells of magic and wrong . All that’s left is the old and musty aura, signs of age rubbed deep into the bone. “I managed to separate the two, and seal the gem. As V wanted.”

Yoongi takes the satchel and looks inside. He squints at the skull and then back at Namjoon. “Well, yeah. But what about the thing inside of the forehead? The rock. Wasn’t that the cause of the problem?”

On the other bed Jungkook shifts, the mattress creaks under his weight.

“Indeed. Which is why the gem comes separately.” Namjoon takes out the gem from his pocket.

For safety the warlock has it wrapped up in leaves, tied with a string made out of some of the herb plants from Namjoon’s tiny garden. While removing the spell has not been possible, Namjoon instead chose to keep it contained and weakened with an herb paste and some of his spells, a protection and sealing wrapped in one.

Yoongi holds it gently, far gentler than he had the skull. “And it will be fine now?”

“Yes, it should. As long as you keep it wrapped up as it is now and away from the skull. V will know what to do afterwards, I’m sure.” Namjoon smiles. 

“Is… is Jimin not with you today?” Jungkook cuts in before Yoongi manages to say anything. The younger’s brows are furrowed again, this time rather than confusion or annoyance, it feels like he is lost. His heels click against the floor quietly.

Namjoon pauses, tilts his head to one side. “Unfortunately, no. He wanted to stay home.”

Underneath Namjoon’s coat Jimin sits still, even if the spell put on him would mask any movement. He flicks his tongue out, no doubt tickles the back of Namjoon’s neck on accident. He knew this might happen, but that doesn’t mean that Jimin is happy knowing that Jungkook can’t just drop it.

“Leave it, Jungkook. The snake doesn’t want to deal with you, I think that’s already clear enough.” Yoongi clicks his tongue and waves away the look that Jungkook gives him. He turns back to Namjoon, long fingers still gently cradling the gem. “Thank you. I know we already gave you money, but is there anything else we can offer?”

Jimin tunes out the rest. He sighs and zones out, uncaring of the rest of the transaction that is slowly taking form.

Namjoon leaves the room and the tavern, with a gentle goodbye directed towards Seokjin, as usual. Once outside of town Jimin slithers out of his hiding spot around Namjoon’s chest and neck, just enough to raise his head above the warlock’s and scent the air. With the magic now gone it should be fine, but there is something still. Hidden well. Underneath all the humans, the sweat and animals, the nature – it’s there if Jimin looks hard and careful enough.

Nothing big, just an echo.

“Did you find something?” Namjoon plays with a small spell as he walks, the corner of his mouth smeared with leftover jam from Seokjin’s sandwich.

Jimin turns towards the town. “No, I don’t think so.”

…

Tree shadows keep moving along Jimin’s body, getting in the way of the warm sunlight that he had decided to sleep in. He’s content and to lazy to move. Inside of his belly is the heavy weight of a hunt well done, a meal that will take a while to settle properly.

He’s so out of it that he doesn’t hear the rustle of old pine needles and leaves, the quiet snap of twig and pine cones. The forest around Jimin is like it usually is – both silent and a constant buzz of movement and sounds, a perfect blend of everything in the right balance. But Jimin is full and tired. He knows nothing will touch him in the forest, not even predators that would usually go after snakes.

Jimin is not a regular snake and doesn’t smell like one. There is magic and human to him, a tampered scent.

Treetop shadows shift once more and Jimin yawns. He flicks out his tongue sleepily, more a reflect than an action he is aware of. The new presence of someone, the known scent comes as a surprise. Like cold water upon a sleeping man the scent wakes Jimin up instantly, though he doesn’t show it.

Jungkook is crouched close by. There is sweat coating the man’s skin, a lingering presence of his breakfast.

“Sorry. I know you don’t want to see me.” Jungkook speaks softly. As if he was speaking to a frightened child. A wary being that has been hurt before. It’s a well-known tone. “But I, I really need to speak with you. And apologize.”

It takes a moment, a couple of breaths that Jimin takes to let his form shudder and change. Once more his scales give way to soft human skin, to the shifting of his center of gravity, to the way his view on the world changes. Jimin sits on the warm blanket of pine needles and moss as everything rearranges carefully into place and then breathes in again. Gone is his animal and in place sits that which once was human.

One breath and then two. “What do you want?” Jimin knows there is a bite to his words, but he refuses to smother it in false politeness.

Jungkook’s eyes widen with the transformation, though it’s not surprise like it had been before, that first time the man saw Jimin shift from snake to human. “To apologize. And explain. And to also ask you something, something important.”

There are pine needles poking into the soft meat of Jimin’s palm. He curls his fingers in and breathes through the discomfort. “Then apologize.”

“I’m sorry I called you cursed.” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate this time. There is sincerity about him, determination to make this right that seeps into air. “It’s just that… My… I’ve known about you and what had been done to you as something bad that, that I never imagined that you would view it differently. I’m sorry for assuming.”

Jimin feels off-kilter. Confused. There are not many that know how he became what he is. Namjoon knows, of course he does. After so many years together, with a bond that connects them deeply, it would be impossible to keep secrets to begin with. And Jimin trusts the warlock fully. The same way Namjoon trusts him. But Namjoon is (was?) not the only one who knows. There are (were?) two more.

The same nightmare flickers before Jimin’s eyes. The heat of an unbearable summer’s day, the itchiness of his own sweat, warm hands and an even warmer laugh.

“What do you mean you’ve known about me? How ?” Jimin knows his pupils have thinned out, much like a snake’s eyes contracts when it zeroes in on a hunt. The few scales still clinging onto his skin itch.

Jungkook swallows. “It’s a story passed down my family. From Hoseok, your… well, no one was ever sure what exactly you two were and, supposedly, he never told that part. But ! But he only passed the story in hopes of having his apology reach you. Please don’t hate him.”

There is a faint tremble making its way down Jimin’s spine. He takes a deep breath and bites his tongue to keep everything inside. The memories, the regrets. Even now, after many years, Jimin can picture Hoseok’s smile perfectly. The shape of his lover’s eyes, the slope of the man’s nose and how he used to always smell of hay.

It seems silly to cry, but Jimin can’t hold the tears back.

The days spent running through Hoseok’s father’s fields while hiding from chores seem so far away, like a dream that is too good to be. To have been true. The phantom touch of Hoseok’s fingers parting Jimin’s hear is still there. The feel of the man’s shoulder resting against Jimin’s. It hurts and it’s a precious, irreplaceable treasure in one.

Jimin breathes through a sob. “I-I could never . Not Hoseok. Never him.”

Jungkook seems hesitant, almost unsure if he is allowed to touch. Nevertheless, the man’s fingers are gentle as they curl around Jimin’s hand and hold it. “I’m sorry. He really, really loved you, until the last moment.”

Everything feels raw and misplaced. Jimin was ready to hate and simply accept Jungkook’s apology for the empty gesture that he thought it would be. But now the dreams make more sense. Yet at the same time, nothing else does. All Jimin can do is breathe it all in and hold it inside until it’s safe to unravel the raw and hurt, look at it on his own.

Unconsciously, Jimin squeezes Jungkook’s hand.

“Are you alright now?” Jungkook’s worry is somewhat grounding.

Jimin shakes his head and licks his lips, the tip of his tongue scraping against his teeth. “Was he happy? After… after everything I thought it would be better to leave, to take the blame so that Hoseok can... can stay. I had nothing, unlike him.”

So many ends were left hanging then. Jimin knows he took the coward’s way out, but he’s also not lying to Jungkook when he says he had nothing. Hoseok was the one with a future in that village, the one that had everything to lose if their secret was found out fully. For Jimin it was easy to leave the village, even when leaving Hoseok had felt like a betrayal.

“He lived a long life, a happy life. Though at times it seems like he did feel sad and regretful about how… how you left, I think. The details got muddled with time and his diaries harder to read, but… He missed you greatly.” Jungkook slides his thumb over Jimin’s knuckles, face open while his voice stays soft.

“That idiot. He shouldn’t have… He always felt too strongly, too fully.” Jimin laughs to himself. He closes his eyes and pulls himself together as best as he can, just for a little bit. Until he is alone again. “You said you have something important to ask me, what is it?”

Jungkook finally pulls his hand back. He shifts on the forest floor slightly, as if uncomfortable about something. His eyebrows are furrowed again, lips pulled into a thoughtful pout. “It’s, well. One part was to pass onto you Hoseok’s apology. The other one was to ask if you’d be willing to come and visit his grave. But, you’re with Namjoon now, so…” The man trails off, unsure how to continue.

Jimin stays quiet. He gazes off into distance, sends a thrum though his bond to Namjoon and thinks. It has been a lot. And looks to be just as much to come, if not more.

…

In the pit of Jimin’s stomach sits something strange. Relief and guilt mixed together and turned into something slimy and unrecognizable. He’s still in his human form, still too raw to shift back to his snake. There is too much to try and run, hide from, so much that coming back to it would be even harder than breathing through it right now.

Jungkook is a worried presence on Jimin’s right side. The warm presence of Namjoon flutters like butterflies at the back of Jimin’s mind.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook reaches out to touch but pulls back after a second spent hovering his fingers close to Jimin’s elbow. “You’re trembling.”

There is still a part of Jimin that hasn’t cried until the end, a tiny part that longs for the safety of Namjoon’s hold to let the last tears out. For now, though, it’s enough. “I will be.” Jimin breathes in the forest and holds it in in hopes that it will absorb that slimy thing. It does a little, surprisingly.

Namjoon’s tiny house is a beacon that calls for Jimin in gentle touches and homely warmth. Under the tiny awning stands Namjoon’s, hands clasped before him and a frown marring the usual peacefulness of his face. The harsh lines relax when Jimin comes in the warlock’s sight, his eyes gentle and worried all at the same time, a smile and a welcome home whispered in the wind.

It’s then, at the edge of the forest and home that Jungkook curls his fingers around Jimin’s, pulls the shifter back just a tiny bit. Enough to get his attention and nothing else. “When can I come back? To talk properly, I mean. I, uh, I don’t want to burden you so much all at the same time.”

The worry soothes some of the jagged edges left behind by this new truth. Jimin breathes in and out, thinks. There is so much that he needs to come in terms with, decisions that should be made. “I will ask Namjoon to send you a message.” Jimin ends up with a non-answer. He’s still dazed and confused, too raw to think of anything else that would be a better promise.

Jungkook smiles, a shy thing. Unsure. “Yeah, okay.” He pulls back, stops again. A battle starts in the warm brown of his gaze. “I’m sorry, for bringing bad news. And, and what I said to you first.”

Jimin watches the man go. He turns around as well and walks into Namjoon’s open arms, lets the warlock absorb those last tears in the soft material of his clothes. There is safety in Namjoon, one built up with years and agreements, with feelings that echo each other even now.

…

“He died happy,” Jimin whispers into the fire before him. He’s still human, curled up on the floor and with his head resting on Namjoon’s knee. “I glad he was happy.”

Namjoon’s fingers weave through Jimin’s hair, clumsy as they make wobbly braids. The warlock hums. “But were you?”

That tiny slimy thing in Jimin wobbles and turns in a circle. “I think so, maybe. Only after you found me, though, since before that I was lost and had given up. I didn’t have anything before Hoseok, so it wasn’t anything new. But it was so lonely. So hard.”

“It’s hard to go back to nothing, when you know there is something better out there. But you did it. Because you’re selfless and strong, Jimin. In the ways that matter the most.” Namjoon twists a lock of Jimin’s hair around his finger and then watches it untwist and flop back into place.

It takes a while for the correct meaning to show itself, even more so for Jimin to let it sink into him and settle down. Even after all this time when he remembers that night the fear is fresh. Hoseok’s lips bitten red in worry and eyes wet with tears, guilt and fear dripping off from him in wave after wave. Jimin left with a kiss and prayed that Hoseok would forget and live on, that their secrets remained exactly that.

Jimin had to gather all of his willpower to let go of his lover’s hands, to look away and disappear into the night. It was only once he was days away from the village he had called home that Jimin allowed himself to break down and scream towards the sky the despair that had pooled into his bloodstream like poison. The hurt never truly went away. He grew surer and accepting of his decisions, yes, but remembering Hoseok’s smiles and laughter, the man’s gentle touches and whispered love letters always hurt like an open wound.

“I miss him.” Jimin swallows.

Namjoon hums again, this time a few notes of a song. “That’s good, it means his memory lives on in you. The memory of a Hoseok only you knew.”

There is more that Jimin might say, questions he could ask to Namjoon that the warlock would have answers or solutions to. But Jimin just closes his eyes and takes in the scent of his home, of the man that has become so close and important to him. Namjoon already knows, from their bond, the same way Jimin knows what the man would reply with.

It’s not always that words are needed, not between the two of them.

“Do you want to go?” Namjoon asks when the sun has started to rise. The skies shimmer in deep oranges and pinks as a new day rises and Namjoon shines in the glow of the morning light. On his skin faded freckle constellations play games.

Jimin watches the random patchwork of scales glimmer on his hand for a moment and then turns his head up to look up at Namjoon. “I do. It’s been so long; I owe it to him. But...” He stops as a new kind of worry blooms as a flower seeking sunlight.

Once again Namjoon slides his fingers through Jimin’s hair to calm the familiar down. Something playful flickers in the warlock’s eyes, there and gone in mere moments. “Even gone you are still bound with me, no matter if it’s a few days or years. Our bond can only be broken with a spell, the same as it was made. But if you worry, I can come with.”

“Will you?” Jimin swallows. He knows how important this place is for Namjoon. He knows that the warlock is not one to travel.

“For you, of course.” Namjoon laughs.

They sit wrapped in the morning light for longer still. It’s another world inside of the tiny house, another reality that begins and ends with Namjoon and Jimin, a space shared between the two of them and no meant for anyone else. Jimin closes his eyes allows himself to let go of another part of the slimy thing tumbling around inside of him. All of it will be gone with his last goodbyes to Hoseok, he thinks, but for now this is enough. More than enough.

Namjoon drums his fingers along Jimin’s shoulder. “Don’t stop yourself from feeling. Like I said, our bond is strong and untouchable by others.”

…

Waiting for Jimin and Namjoon by the crossroads are both Jungkook and Yoongi. They don’t stand in the middle of it, as that’s knowing between old and young alike as a bad omen, but before them, perched in the grass by the side of the road. Yoongi is squinting up at the sky. Jungkook looks close to falling asleep.

“Hello again.” Namjoon steps up to the two men and looks towards the blue sky the same way as Yoongi had been doing, only he looks serene and pleased. “Don’t worry, Yoongi, no rain in sight.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes at the sky and then glances at Namjoon. “Sure.”

“Ah, morning.” Jungkook slowly stands up, still sleepy. His last words slur into a large yawn that makes his jaw pop. The man stumbles a little before focusing on his two companions for the travel to come, then rubs at one eye. “Is Jimin here?”

“He is. But sleeping around my neck. If you ask nicely he might be willing to wrap around you from time to time, give me a bit of a break.” Namjoon pulls away a part of his coat to show the sleeping snake.

Yoongi hoists up his bag. “Let’s go. It’s about a week on foot until V, who knows about the rest.” He taps the heel of his boot against the ground, grunts at the impact.

“Still hurts?” Namjoon asks.

“Healer fixed it up, shouldn’t be a problem. Thanks for the advice.” Yoongi licks his lips, wipes off sweat from beneath his nose.

Jimin isn’t sleeping, not really. He knows what is happening, what the other three are talking and feels the gentle rock of Namjoon’s large steps. It’s easier to be asleep than awake, especially during the beginning of this journey that he never thought he would be making. Or rather, could make. To him years have been as short as weeks and days, sometimes longer than a decade. There is an ebb and flow to time that Jimin, as most magical, was not a part of.

But something Jimin wishes he could have been. For he was, once. By mistake or not, that is a different question.

When the midday sun has hidden away behind wispy clouds Jimin finally comes out from his hiding spot in the hollow of Namjoon’s throat. The air still smells the same as it did near their house, it’s too soon to expect changes. The scents of before are what Jimin wants to catch as soon as he can. Even if his rationale knows there are ways to go yet, there is an impatience drumming along Jimin’s nerves that is hard to smother.

“Oh, hello.”

Jimin turns his head slowly to blinks once at Jungkook. There is an openness on the man’s face that is still surprising to see, but Jimin will try. For his own sake. For Hoseok. “Thank you. For this.”

He doesn’t specify what this is. This is the devotion of Hoseok’s blood to find Jimin even when the man himself could not. This is Jungkook’s softness when Jimin broke down. This is Jungkook taking him back to the one place that was home before Namjoon. This is looking past the snake that stops anyone else not magical.

This is too much and too little.

Jungkook smiles and his eyes scrunch up at the corners. “Of course, it’s like a family duty by now. Not that I’m forcing myself to—I mean, I’m glad I can take, uh, show you back?” There is panic and confusion taking over Jungkook’s whole body, as if the man is all or nothing kind of person, no matter the situation.

Thankfully, Yoongi interferes just then, with a quick and soft slap at the back of Jungkook’s head. “Calm down, kid.”

“You two have such a warm relationship.” Namjoon has cookie crumbs dotting a corner of his mouth.

“Warm?”

Namjoon doesn’t seem to care who asked. He swipes away the crumbs from his mouth and licks his thumb clean. The warlock then tickles lightly under Jimin’s jaw. “Yes. The aura between you two is very warm. Like sitting near a fireplace on a winter evening. It’s very nice to feel.”

Jungkook has a blush high on his cheeks, while Yoongi looks just surprised enough to let out a loud bark of a laugh, a little unexpected from a man usually so quiet and calm. All of this is a form of magic all on its own – the natural kind, the one that is woven into the little everyday things. Jimin absorbs the dust that floats from this magic as well, lets it settle in his scales and spread warmth all across his body.

“Like you and Jimin?” Jungkook asks, still the color of a ripe peach.

Namjoon hums, thoughtful. The bond between him and Jimin twinkles. “I suppose. We have different beginnings than you, but the time we have spent together has shaped us into an entity with the same kind of warmth. Well, not the same, but... alike?”

“We’re special,” Jimin agrees, but also brags a little. His coils tighten around Namjoon briefly in a version of a hug. “Because we started differently.”

“Magic stuff?” Yoongi adjusts the strap of his bag around his chest. He grunts when Jungkook bumps into his shoulder, pushes back against the younger in an equally playful manner.

Namjoon chuckles. “Yes, the familiar bond.”

…

They pass through a smaller village and Jimin takes on a human form.

Namjoon is a burning fire as he walks through the muddy pathways woven between houses. Jimin hides his arms in the long sleeves of his coat, his face in the shadows cast by the hood pulled over his eyes. The tiny smatterings of scales feel pulled too tight on his skin this time. He doesn’t know why, but it’s not always that there is a reason.

With each unsure and suspicious gaze that they pass Jungkook shuffles closer to Jimin’s side. It’s an awkward shuffle that Jimin ignores, perhaps even allows to happen, for even in this form he craves human warmth.

“Hey, you, old lady. Is there a tavern around? Or a place to stay for the night?” Yoongi is leaning on a rickety fence. The tips of his boots are smeared with mud and gone darker from water. There are sweat stains on his shirt.

“Unless someone lets you in their house, no.” The old lady spits by her feet. There are a few tangled locks of gray hair that have escaped from under her scarf. She doesn’t seem to mind much. “The next village is bigger; it’s a couple hours walk from here. They had a tiny inn, like three rooms.”

So they continue on, with the sun beating down upon them. Only Namjoon seems unaffected by the weather, most likely due to his powers. Yoongi glares at the warlock in jealousy, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, the man takes off his shirt and stuffs it in his bag.

Jimin takes off his coat and passes it back to Jungkook. “Thanks.”

“Ah… It’s okay. I hope it wasn’t too scratchy. Or something.” Jungkook is careful as he folds up the piece of clothing, a tiny smile on his lips. “It was really big on you though.”

A hiss rumbles in Jimin’s throat as he punches the other man’s shoulder. “Shut up. It was only for the village.” He’s not annoyed. Playful, more like. Unused, but welcome, to the idea of having fun with someone else by teasing each other.

With Namjoon it has always been different. There is no push and pull – only an equal flow that comes together and mixes evenly thanks to Jimin’s laziness and Namjoon’s calmness. They tease each other, but never more than that.

“Ya brats! Get moving already!” Yoongi’s face is red from the heat and exhaustion that settles after long periods spent traveling and sleeping on grassy earth.

Namjoon’s smile is curved in a teasing, amused sort of thing that only Jimin ever notices since the warlock hides himself well. “I’m pretty sure Jimin is the oldest one among us.”

This tiny tidbit of information seems to surprise both of the hired hands. Yoongi opens his mouth, but closes it just as fast when he looks over his shoulder at Jimin. His brows are furrowed in thought. Jungkook, on the other hand, is openly gawking at Jimin.

“I thought that was obvious, since I was with Hoseok.” Jimin wiggles the tip of his tongue along one of his fangs. It’s uncomfortable to be put on a spot so obviously. It reminds him of the people that never truly understood the kind of magic that is a part of Jimin, the type that allows him to switch between forms and live as both versions of himself.

Jungkook shakes his head slowly. “No, I mean, yeah, but. Uh. I thought Namjoon was older than you?” He blinks once and sounds unsure of himself even as he poses the statement as a question, rather than a fact.

Yoongi hums in agreement.

At the very front, standing in the relieving shadow of a tree, Namjoon shakes as he tries to surpass his laughs in vain. It’s only when Yoongi’s thrown dirt bounces off of his shirt, that the man takes a deep breath. “Ah, thank you. But, no, I’m pretty sure Jimin is the oldest of us.”

“Namjoon feels old because of his magic.” Jimin huffs in agitation that his partner, his warlock is the best. The most powerful, the gentlest one out there. Age doesn’t matter, not to Jimin.

“You also look like you’re barely past maturity, you know.” Yoongi walks to squat next to Namjoon in the shadow. He regards Jimin with a long look. “Are you really the oldest?”

Jimin lets his fingers run over the smooth patch of scales along his neck for a moment. “Maybe. I don’t think about the time before Hoseok anyway, so I don’t know. It never mattered to me.”

Jungkook makes a tiny, soft noise. He then grins wide and as playful as before, eyes crunched up from the force of it. “Well, you’ve held on well for your age then. Like a well-preserved grandpa.”

This time Yoongi joins Namjoon in laughter while Jimin is left unable to decide how to respond.

…

Jimin knows he shouldn’t be bothered by people by now, but the negative of past is hard to shake off, despite the years that have gone by. The food is not the best in this tavern. Neither are the smells seeped into the building’s walls and the chatter that buzzes around him like mosquitoes.

Yoongi’s meal has also been left barely touched. The man’s nose is wrinkled in disgust, has been like that for a while now. He sighs long and drawn out before leaning closer to Namjoon to whisper something in the warlock’s ear, mouth hidden by his palm.

There is a continuous itch at the back of Jimin’s neck. Without the coat he would be immediately singled out as a freak, but with the coat on he is still suspicious and strange. Magic can do a lot, but not when there is a guard by the entrance that breaks spells. Even Namjoon, as powerful as he is, can’t make his spells last when there is protection cast beforehand.

The barmaid stops by their table and slams a pitcher of honey water on the table. “Your last order, travelers.” She adjusts her dirty apron and casts a curious glance across them. “Where ya’ travelin’ to? We don’t get a lot of new folks around here.”

“Boss sent on a long errand; you know how it goes.” Yoongi leans back in his chair. The bag with all his things lays in his lap. “We just stopped for a quick lunch.”

Namjoon slides his finger along the dented metal fork. He has eaten the most out of all of them, but it’s still not that much. “We should be there soon, however. I love nature, but sleeping on the ground gets a little tiring after a while.”

From his seat Jungkook quietly giggles.

Quietly and carefully Jimin reaches for the jug of honey water and pours himself some of it. Unlike the food the drink is delicious, and it doesn’t take long for him to finish everything. The barmaid keeps talking to Yoongi and Namjoon the whole time, though her eyes stray to Jimin from time to time, as if she’s just waiting for the familiar to slip up.

“No staying the night then?” The barmaid focuses on Jimin this time, head tilted in a question, though her eyes are narrowed ever so slightly.

Around them the chatter doesn’t stop, but Jimin can feel some farmers at the back pay extra attention to what is happening here. He pours some more honey water for himself, relaxes just a bit when Jungkook’s arm settles on the back of his chair. It’s not an actual barrier or a shield, but it works as well as one. There is Jungkook’s scent clinging onto the coat as well.

“No, we’re expected,” Yoongi says at last.

The plan had been different. They would eat and ask for rooms for the night. But that had changed when Namjoon felt the protection spell, when Jungkook pulled the sleeves down Jimin’s hands to hide his scales from view, when Jimin heard someone hiss about strangers and weirdos coming by again.

Jungkook takes a sip of honey water and glances somewhere behind the barmaid. There is no more humor, just year-honed attentiveness and readiness for anything that might happen unexpectedly. It reminds Jimin of that rainy day in Namjoon’s house, when the curse had taken over Yoongi.

“Oh. So you will be leave soon, then?” the barmaid raises her voice just so. She’s still looking at Jimin.

Namjoon hums and his calmness seeps into Jimin’s mind like sweet syrup.

“Yeah. We’ll just finish the drink and be on our way.” Yoongi eats one more piece of his meal, wrinkles his nose yet again and takes a sip of the beer that he had ordered instead of the water. His gaze dares the barmaid to dig in deeper with questions.

Only when they leave past the last of the village houses Jimin shakes the long sleeves off from his hands. He’s hot under the coat, has been for a while, but taking it off in a place where baseless fear made the whole place stink would have been suicide. It will be a little while still before he takes the coat off completely.

“Now I know why we skipped this place on our way to Namjoon.” Jungkook stretches his arms above his head. The bottom of his shirt raises just enough to flash a little bit of skin of his stomach.

Yoongi snorts. “Not because of the magic fear, but because we didn’t have any reason to. Though if we had stopped, the protection whatever would have fucked us over, right?”

“Hmm. I think so. All non-passive spells and magic was targeted by that rune.” Namjoon reaches out his hand for Jimin to take, their fingers tangling together as their bond glows warm from the closeness. “The wind doesn’t like it there.”

“At least we’re not far from V’s house now. After that it shouldn’t be too far to Jungkook’s family farm, right?” Yoongi pulls out a slightly stale bread from his bag and breaks it in two, offering the second half to whoever wants it.

Jungkook takes it immediately. “Yeah, we’re pretty close to V. I think my horse should still be in V’s stables, so it will take even faster.”

“Horses don’t like me.” Jimin throws a look behind him to judge how far they have gone from the village and then takes off the hood. The wind is pleasant against his face, between his hair. “But I can be a snake it will be better. They react better to the animal form.”

“Does it matter that much?” Yoongi has breadcrumbs on one corner of his lips.

It’s Namjoon that replies this time. “Jimin is magic. The snake has a more… animal magic to it than when Jimin is human. It’s not a difference that’s noticeable for us, just animals. They are more sensitive.” The warlock swings his and Jimin’s hands forward and back as they walk. “Well, and me. Because we’re connected.”

“Connected… Does that mean you can’t be apart?” Jungkook’s voice is quiet, as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to ask. But there is a steely resolve there.

Jimin and Namjoon share a secret little smile between them. Usually Namjoon would be the one to explain, but this time Jimin doesn’t mind doing it himself. Before the question is tinged with disbelief and, sometimes, open disgust. As if a warlock would care about his familiar apart from how deep the trust between them grows. It’s only normal humans who see evil in specific animals and not in decisions and taught wrongs.

“It’s not a physical thing. If the bond would be young and fragile, then closeness is important.” Jimin squeezes Namjoon’s fingers briefly. “But we have been together for so long that space doesn’t matter. But we are always tougher, in our heads. But I need to be there to protect him, since that’s part of the contract.” Jimin breathes in the nature around him, the magic that is Namjoon, Jungkook’s scent.

Namjoon hums along. “A familiar is there to protect, and  a warlock is there to protect, as well. It’s just a matter of what kind of protection.”

Jungkook’s gaze is unlike the ones at the tavern. It’s warm, filled with wonder. It’s not often that those connected with magic actually speak about it, no matter how small the information may be. But there is also something else there, Jimin can tell. Once, one long ago Hoseok looked at him the same way. It’s been so long that Jimin’s not sure how to react to it.

But he’s not against it. Not anymore.

…

V’s house is a mansion. The fence around it is  woven with just flowers and plants, the red roof a fascinating contrast to the yellow walls. Jimin watches from Jungkook’s hold as snake. While not the most powerful around, V still possess some magical gifts and Namjoon respects the man’s borderline points.

When the man comes out to meet them his beauty is something that takes Jimin aback. V looks like a painting come to life, eyes of a dragon drawn onto a man’s face and grace of a nymph gifted to a mortal. All those that have magic in their veins stand out in some ways, be it physical or something different, but never has Jimin seen someone with signs so stark.

“Oh my, oh dear, was my granddaddy’s spell that powerful that you had Namjoon come all the way here?” V plays with the pearl earring as he speaks. He’s warm, warmer than anyone Jimin has met before.

Yoongi pulls out the skull and the gem from where he had kept them safe throughout the journey. With some help from Namjoon along the way nothing has changed from when the warlock had given the two to Yoongi for safekeeping. And now the hired hand hands it off to the rightful owner.

“No, not quite.” Namjoon slides a lock of unruly hair behind his own ear. He glances towards Jimin. “I’m here to accompany Jimin. A support.”

V is turning the skull in his hands one way and another, a pleased grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. “Granddaddy sure looks good now, wow! Thank you, I hope the pay was adequate.” He blinks down at Jimin then. “You smell like magic from my bloodline. The not human one. Why?”

Jungkook pulls Jimin closer to himself. Perhaps on reflex, maybe because he thinks that V might do something, but Jimin enjoys the moment, nonetheless. He scents the air, twists around to wrap himself around Jungkook’s head so that he sleeps atop of it, close to the sun.

“A nymph helped me, long ago. She later fell in love with a human, from what I heard. I wasn’t around then anymore.” Jimin still doesn’t know if V is in any way connected to the nymph, or if the man can even smell magic. Either way, no matter how magic lingers, the difference never stays for long. Unless it’s the beginning.

Namjoon chuckles as his bag slides off his shoulder and falls on the ground. “All nymphs’ magic is the same, they share it. I doubt there is a connection apart from a nymph being involved in some way with the both of you.”

“This is all too complicated for me,” Yoongi grumbles through a yawn. His hand rests on V’s hip.

V grins. He tosses the skull up and down in the air. “Probably. Anyway, thanks for this, Namjoon. I knew I was right to entrust you with this. You’re staying here?” His one earring glints in the sun, as the other is hidden behind a curtain of thick, long hair.

This time Jungkook speaks up. “Ah, no. They are coming with me up to the farm. Is my horse still around, by the way? My brother said he might come and take it back, maybe. Before I left, I mean.”

Jimin tunes out the rest, uncaring of the details. If he were in human form it would be different, but the snake doesn’t see much point in worrying about horses and how to get where he needs to be. Well, not quite. But as a snake these worries take a backseat, become nothing but passing thought that linger along the sides for when Jimin deems himself ready to take them on.

Soon there are two horses waiting for them, grazing on the short grass by V’s borderline markings. Namjoon pets his horse gently, murmuring something quietly to the animal. Jimin is still wrapped around Jungkook, even when the younger man pulls himself up to sit in the saddle. The horse protests a little, but Namjoon reaches out to calm the animal down, murmuring the same things he had said to his own horse. A reassurance for Jimin.

V stands back inside of his property, now leaning against Yoongi. His long fingers are cradling the skull as something precious now. “Good travel wind. Don’t steal my hired hand for too long, Yoongi is nice but lazy. I need someone to actually do something around here.”

“Shut up.” Yoongi elbows V’s side lightly – it looks more like an old, loving gesture than a reprimand.

Namjoon shares some deeper words of parting with the other magic user before they are on their way again. There is a camaraderie that Namjoon feels with anyone that embrace their gift, however little it may be. A companionship that all those with magic feel towards each other, no matter how they use that has been gifted to them.

“Strange man.” Jimin can’t look away from the mansion that keeps on becoming smaller and smaller.

Jungkook’s fingers are unsure as they slide along Jimin’s back. “But fun to be around.”

“His aura is pleasant.” Namjoon adds. His gaze has now moved towards the sky as his lips pull together in thought, jaw slightly protruded as he loses himself in the treads of wanderings that consume so easily.

When Jimin looks away from what is behind him and looks to the front, he knows it will be soon, now. The place of beginning, the place where Hoseok lies in old soil. If he closes his eyes and thinks of those days - when kisses were a gift and a secret, when Hoseok’s tanned skin was addictively warm, when Jimin thumbed Hoseok’s tears from his cheeks - when he thinks of those days it almost feels like he never left for long.

…

Hoseok’s grave is simple. Covered in moss. There are freshly weeded-out flower beds around the tombstone, someone has cleaned out the indents of the lettering, so that every word and message is easy to read.

Jimin’s hand is trembling as he reaches out to touch the warm moss, the cold stone. The years etched into the rough stone speak more of how long ago he last saw his lover. They mock Jimin. They remind that his mistakes were the cause of their separation, that his carelessness forced him to leave – the farm and Hoseok. Jimin lets his fingertips rest atop Hoseok’s name, breathes in deep in hopes to keep it together. He has cried enough. Maybe not about and for Hoseok, but for his own sake, Jimin has cried enough already.

“I’m waiting for my moonlight even now,” Jimin reads the one sentence that has been put into the stone, underneath the dates. The words are heavy on his tongue.

Hoseok’s lips against his ear, giggles shaking his whole body. The older had whispered into the night my moonlight as they sneaked away from the main building, fingers barely holding on and bare feet dirty with mud and grass. Jimin was moonlight, Hoseok sunshine. They were happy. They were in love. Love made them do stupid things, love made Hoseok beg the nymph for help. Love was the reason why Jimin chose to leave, in hopes that Hoseok is happy.

“Oh, you idiot. I never blamed you, never forgot you.” Jimin doesn’t care about the water that soaks the knees of his pants. He leans his forehead against the tombstone and shudders. “Even now I love you so. My sunshine, I never left. I never stopped hoping and thinking about you, loving you. Trying to make myself believe that my choice was right.”

Namjoon’s presence is there, in the back of his head. Jungkook is just a couple of steps behind, gaze averted for privacy. Jimin is not alone, he knows this. And Hoseok was not alone, not even in his final days. What they had was precious and irreplaceable. But life moves on, has moved on.

“I wish I could have met you again. More than anything else.” Jimin presses a kiss to Hoseok’s name and pulls away. Once more he pets the tombstone, regretful and relieved. It’s another goodbye. This one more permanent than the first one and more painful because of it. “You’d have liked Namjoon, I think. He’s my warlock, someone who found and took care of me when I was at my lowest. I asked him to make flower bloom here, ones that will never wilt. Your favorites, of course.”

And then Namjoon is there, warm hand on Jimin’s shoulder and magic dancing along his fingertips.

The warlock kneels next to Jimin with a grunt. “Hello, Hoseok. Jimin has told me a lot about you. Good things and bad, of course. Thank you for taking care of him before me, for loving him the way he deserved to be loved.” The man then caresses the roughs stone gently, as one would pet a child.

When Namjoon’s hand rests on the bare soil in front of the tombstone, tiny forget-me-nots sprout between his fingers. They unfurl their bright blue blooms and sway from side to side as magic sparkles around them. Jimin laughs when the flowers tickle Namjoon’s palm as the warlock pulls away.

“There. This a gift from me and Jimin.” Namjoon laughs too.

Jungkook looks a little uncomfortable and worried when he sees the tear tracks on Jimin’s cheeks. The man doesn’t say anything, just offers a clean handkerchief and looks towards Namjoon with questions burning the tip of his tongue. None come out, but the warlock seems to understand anyway.

“Thank you, Jungkook. For bringing me here.” Jimin hands back the handkerchief and clears his throat, feels one of his fangs prick the inside of his bottom lip.

“Of course. I’m glad you could come.” Jungkook scratches the back of his head. He looks towards the grave briefly. “I bet he’s happy up there. And the flowers are very pretty.”

Jimin laughs, a soundless thing that is more a breath than anything else. “Yeah. I think so too. Happiness came to him so easily, from the smallest to the biggest of things. It was like he was born to always smile.”

The way back to Jungkook’s family farm is quiet. From time to time Jungkook’s hand brushes against Jimin’s, not on purpose. The familiar smiles to himself, doesn’t pull his hand away and pretends to not see the light blush on Jungkook’s cheeks. A possibility of more hangs between them, an invitation that Jimin is still not ready to take. Not after the visit, when everything is fresh, but already starting to scab over.

Jimin doesn’t turn into a snake and instead stays human. He rests his head against Namjoon’s shoulder as the warlock exchanges last words with Jungkook and the man’s mother. She also seems to the thankful and so happy that Jimin was found and brought here. Namjoon keeps refusing any food that the woman is trying to pass onto them, while sharing amused laughter with Jungkook.

“I, I can visit you, right? Even when I don’t have a reason to?” Jungkook holds Jimin’s hand in both of his. Despite the stutter and question, determination shines bright in his eyes, in the way he puffs himself up.

Namjoon snorts. “Of course. Friends are always welcome, Jungkook.”

Jimin shakes his head at everyone. The horse, of course, doesn’t really like him, but with Namjoon’s help the animal calms down and allows Jimin to get atop of it. Later in the trip back Jimin will turn back into a snake and make it easier for Namjoon to ride. But right now he doesn’t want to lose himself into the instinct and simplicity of an animal, not when Hoseok’s memory burns so incredibly bright inside of him.

“I’ll come to you.” Jungkook says as if he is making a promise.

Jimin shakes his head, fond. “Sure. I’ll wait.”

…

When Jimin dreams there is still a heart-shaped smile and elven fingers running through his hair. The echo of laughter bounces around them as Jimin falls into Hoseok’s arms and they spin around, blue flower petals fluttering around them.

…

Jimin sleeps in the midday sunshine. His scales are pleasantly warm, body curled into loose circles atop the flat rock. Namjoon is outside his house for once, burning herbs in a tiny fire and collecting the dust into tiny glass jars, sealing them in with magic. The air smells like meadow flowers and pine, like Namjoon’s magic and season about to change.

With a yawn Jimin blinks awake. There is a new scent in the air, brought in by the wind. It’s a know one. An awaited one.

The shift is easier now. He sits on the rock with one leg bent and other straight out in front of himself. Jimin purses his lips as he waits, gaze sharp despite the recent sleep as he watches the road that winds through the forest and out of it. Jimin promised to wait and so he will, even when Jungkook seems to be so close, and getting even closer.

Jungkook’s hair is longer now. The strands hanging on both sides of his face are slightly curled at the ends, though Jungkook has pulled the rest into a tiny ponytail. The man looks tired – his forehead is covered in a layer of sweat, as are his arms. Though once he notices Jimin a large smile blooms on his face, nose scrunching up with the force of it.

“Hey.”

Jimin is too fond to pretend he hasn’t been waiting for this meeting so. “You took a long time.”

Jungkook drops his bags on the ground and pushes hair away from his eyes. He licks his lips and makes a tiny giggle, one of nervousness, perhaps. The first step is a stutter, though the next ones come surer when the man walks up to Jimin. He drops on his knees and rests his palms on the firm muscle of Jimin’s thighs. “A long time for a long time. But... Sorry I made you wait. It, well, it wasn’t supposed to be that long.”

“Hmm.” Jimin slides his fingers along the top of Jungkook’s palm, up the man’s arm. “You did warn me.”

A tiny butterfly heartbeat beats steadily inside of Jimin. A quickstep thump-thump of nervousness and excitement for what will come now. Jungkook’s warmth seeps through his pants and bleeds into him. Different than how Hoseok felt, but precious and wanted all the same.

This time Jungkook just shakes his head. He breathes in deep, still nervous, and swallows. “Can—well, no. May I? K-kiss you? If, if you’re okay with that. And, uh, want me to.” His fingers tighten around Jimin’s thigh.

“I do want you to,” Jimin says.

It’s not a discovery of something new. It’s not a swarm of butterflies bursting open from Jimin’s ribcage. The kiss is light at first, slow as Jungkook finds a better angle, wraps the base of Jimin’s head gently in his hands and lets a tiny sound rumble in his throat. It’s Jimin opening his lips and biting Jungkook’s bottom lip, licking the sting better afterwards.

Jungkook tastes like nothing and whatever he ate last. He grunts a little bit before his tongue slides against Jimin’s, whines when Jimin bites down on that as well. The sharp point of one of Jimin’s fangs rests against Jungkook’s lip. Jimin grabs ahold of Jungkook’s hands and holds onto them, ignores the twinge that comes from how uncomfortable his position has become.

They pull apart and Jimin can’t help but laugh quietly at how flushed Jungkook has become. “How long can you stay?” Jimin slides his thumb over the pink jut of Jungkook’s cheek and marvels how soft it is despite the sharp angle of it.

“Oh, uh. Uhm. Well, however long I want? V said he doesn’t mind letting me go if I’m in Namjoon’s care.” Jungkook’s eyes shine with a million stars inside of them as he speaks, each word surer than the last.

Jimin pulls his legs closer to himself and folds them up. “Namjoon won’t have work for you, but there are always things to do in the smelly town. Especially for Seokjin.” He wraps a strand of Jungkook’s hair around his finger and doesn’t pretend he’s not staring at the man’s lips.

“As long as you’ll have me.” Jungkook scrunches up his nose. He’s soft, so soft right now.

“I’m selfish, I will have you forever.” Jimin pulls on the lock of hair still wrapped around his finger and blinks up at the other man. “If you let me, of course. If you want me.”

The reply doesn’t come in words, but more soft kisses. Longer and shorter, mixed between soft murmurs and breathy giggles, with the coppery tang of blood when one of Jimin’s fangs comes down too sharp against a lip. Jimin’s apology is eaten up by Jungkook’s moan and then there are now words at all. Just the sun warming them from above, the tickle of grass against bare palms and clothes legs.

Jimin lays his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, both now sitting on his favorite rock. He’s sleepy again, will have to go out to hunt another dinner today – he hasn’t hunted in a few days now, hadn’t felt the need to. Jungkook seems mesmerized by a patch of scales shining along Jimin’s forearm.

The scent of Namjoon’s spell is still thick in the air.

“Won’t Namjoon mind?” Jungkook finally asks. He glances back at the house, finds the wizard still lost deeply into his spell, surrounded by the smoke he has been collecting earlier.

Jimin scents the air, momentarily forgotten that he’s human and not snake. It takes a second, or maybe three, but then he comes back. “Mmmm. I don’t think so. You can ask him later. But probably no. He’s very kind.”

“Yeah, yeah he is.” Jungkook kisses the top of Jimin’s head. He smells light, fresh like happiness.