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Yoongi has always liked walking down this familiar path. The little Bluebells and Bleeding Hearts that were planted with love. The Snapdragons greet him with playful chittering and puffs of fire from the feistier ones, and Noisette Roses sway lightly in the wind. Their welcoming scent wafting softly in the breeze as he approaches the little stone cottage, equally surrounded by greenery and trees.
Of course, the black smoke pluming from the chimney should be a worrisome vision, but Yoongi just shakes his head.
“Joon? Are you okay?” He asks as he opens the door. The smoke makes Yoongi’s eyes water and he can’t stop coughing. He waves his hands around to clear the smoke, then reminds himself what am I doing, I’m a witch then proceeds to snap his fingers, the smoke sucked out the open door before promptly shutting.
It doesn’t take Yoongi more than two steps to see a crouched figure in the corner of the kitchen area. The sight is almost endearing if not for the little flame at the crooked tip of the black hat atop a messy head of purple hair. Yoongi licks the tips of his fingers and the flicker of fire sizzles out.
“Namjoon-ah, what are you doing in the corner?” He stoops down and taps the man on his shoulder. When he finally turns his head Yoongi extends his finger and pokes Namjoon on the cheek.
“Instead of putting in the Bitter Garlic into the potion, I added Swamp Sage. I thought that the blue tint would turn into the purple it’s supposed to, but hyung it just- I ruined it. I messed it up and ruined the third cauldron this month,” he pouts.
Yoongi should feel so bad about this recurring predicament, but he is so impossibly cute he thinks. He pokes Namjoon on the cheek a couple more times until that dimple reveals itself along with a sad sort-of smile.
“Accidents happen. It’s okay, Joon-ah. We’ll just go take one from Jin-hyung’s kitchen. He won’t miss another one,” he jokes (not really though, Jin-hyung keeps a giant stash of cauldrons in the attic of his home, being a kitchen witch and whatnot, but honestly, Yoongi thinks it’s just to replace all the ones Namjoon goes through).
Namjoon pulls a face and pouts as hard as he can. He pulls the hat lower on his head. He tries to lift the droopy tip only for it to flop back down, as if it were perpetually fatigued from all the wear and tear it goes through daily.
Yoongi senses the sadness coming off him in waves, so he slips his hands into Namjoon’s palms and pulls him up. Once standing, the shorter mint-haired wood witch reached one hand up and pat him on the head, then pulled the taller with the other to sit down on the couch. Only, instead of letting go of the hand in his, Namjoon pulls him down with him and lands down with an oof.
Namjoon grabs one of the mismatched cushions, brings his knees to his chest and wraps his gangly arms around both.
“Green witches are supposed to be good with potions like we’re good with plants. I know how to do it, theoretically, but—”
Yoongi cuts him off before he can spiral further into one of those self-hating, philosophical rhetorics he knows Joon is prone to.
“You’re just as capable as any other green witch. Just because your clumsy body—no offence— doesn’t catch up to your brain fast enough doesn’t mean that you’re a bad witch.”
Namjoon leans over and puts his head on Yoongi’s shoulder and he thinks he might just implode. He adjusts and sits higher so he doesn’t have to crane his neck too much.
“I take all the offence,” he playfully digs pointy shoulder into Yoongi’s arm.
Yoongi hums in acknowledgement, the corners of his lips curling into a small smirk. He buries his face into it and lets out a sound equivalent to a noise a dying whale might make, and mumbles sometime akin to I burned my spoon, too, and Yoongi can’t help but let out a snicker. That earns him an instant pillow smacked to his face, only making him laugh harder.
“Hyung. It’s not funny. I don’t even have a spoon to use now!” He whines.
“Okay, Joon-ah, I’ll go get a new cauldron and spoon from Jin-hyung for you. Now…” Yoongi extends his hands out in front of him and makes grabby hands.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m only good for my herbs,” Joon smacks his hands down and sticks his tongue out, “I might as well become one of those medicine men that pass through the village all the time.”
Yoongi tries not to stare as Namjoon smooths out the brown cotton Locksley pants before making his way over to the kitchen once more. The little sliver of skin that shows as the green witch stretches his arms above his head definitely did not make Yoongi rethink his decision to look. He can feel the warmth spread across his cheeks.
“Don’t forget the Stag Weaver talons and Pygmy Thyme this time,” he ducks his head and is glad that Mother Goddess might be listening to his prayers. He also reminds himself to make a bigger offering the next time he prays to her.
He twists around and rests his chins on top of his stacked arms on the back of the couch once he’s sure that his face isn’t the shade of a ripe tomato.
Watching the other rummage through the drawers for his scissors to cut down the little bunches of dried herbs hanging from the hand spun twine wrapped around the wooden beams without even having to stand on his tippy toes makes Yoongi wonder. More like daydream about having him around his own little cabin down the river. It makes his stomach feel like it’s full of swallowtails fluttering about. He gulps it back down.
“Here you go, hyung.”
Namjoon bends over and dangles a small linen satchel beside his own face, a mere couple of inches away, making Yoongi cross his eyes. He smiles before quickly realising just how close he was and fakes a cough into his sleeve, hoping that his embarrassment will go amiss in Yoongi’s daze.
“Uh, I- the talons are in there with the thyme. The starflowers also bloomed last night. They let me prune a couple handfuls,” he thrusts the small package at Yoongi, who takes it with a gentle grasp around the top.
“Oh, thanks.”
Namjoon eyes the other as he runs his fingers through his minty locks.
“I know you’ve been running low. You mentioned you were making some Moonlight Draught for Hobi the last time I saw you, so…”
Namjoon mirrors the other by carding his own fingers through his own purple hair. It’s only when Yoongi smiles that gummy smile that Namjoon relaxes his shoulders, smiling back.
“Thank you, Joon-ah,” his eyes sparkle as he adds, “now I really can’t get out of sneaking that cauldron from Jin-hyung’s attic, huh?”
It makes Namjoon chuckle.
“Don’t forget the spoon. I want a new spoon too. As payment for my excellent services.”
That earns a big hearty laugh from Yoongi, making Namjoon’s pride soar through the roof.
“Yah, have you been hanging around Kook again? It’s like all you younglings don’t have any respect for your elders anymore,” Yoongi scolds, with no actual heat to his words.
It feels like he’s swallowed a flock of Collywobbles and they’re diving into the depths of his heart, quickening his heartbeat from its sweet chocolate cheeks and Namjoon can only grin at the banter that goes back and forth between them so easily.
Namjoon waves as Yoongi disappears down the path, a trek he makes almost daily, to make sure your cottage hasn’t burned down, he told Namjoon. Namjoon smiled so hard that the dimple on his face was so deep, Yoongi thought he could pour some of Jimin’s homebrew into it and drink from it.
That fluttering feeling returns.
Yoongi doesn’t push it away this time.
*~*~*~*
“I’m telling you, hyung, he definitely li—”
“I’m stopping you there Jeon Jeongguk. Don’t finish that thought. I’m just here to ‘borrow’ one of Jin-hyung’s cauldrons from his stash,” he bullies his way past the brunet making air quotes on his way up the well-worn ladder into the attic.
Yoongi looks at the tall stack of spare cauldrons that the kitchen witch squirrels away and curses his short stature internally. He braces himself on the big antique wooden trunk and attempts to reach for one of the cast-iron cauldrons from the top of the pile. He huffs when his finger only grazes the side.
“You know I could just grab one for you if you ask nicely, hyung,” the younger teases.
“Don’t be patronizing,” he glares back at him.
Jeongguk chuckles, shoving Yoongi over with his overly broad chest and easily grabs the alembic. He holds it just out of Yoongi’s reach and only relinquishes it when Yoongi pokes him in the ribs.
Jeongguk wrapped his hands around his sides murmuring this is what I get for being helpful as he pouts in the cutest way that Yoongi can’t resist. He messes up Jeongguk’s hair and offers an almost apologetic smile.
*~*~*~*
Namjoon greeted the pink Lady’s Slipper orchid sunbathing on the window ledge on his way out to the garden. The warmth of the mug in his hand combined with the sunrays on his skin made him feel the good kind of fuzzy. He sipped on his coffee.
The garden was buzzing with life, and on this particular morning the flowers were chattering loudly amongst themselves. It was a pleasant drone. Until the sapling Elfin fern (bless its little leaves) blurted out loudly of the “cute mint-haired witch” making its way through the forest, on its way here. Suddenly the sounds became more than white noise. He tuned in and words were thrown around about the birch in front of Yoongi’s cabin telling the old oak about missing his breakfast, and how nice his shoulders looked when—
Namjoon blushed and shook his head.
“Come on now, you know better than to gossip with the Bergamot across the river,” He gently scolded.
The sounds fizzled as his stomach grumbled.
Well, if the little whispers weren’t as exaggerated as he knows they can be, he thought he might as well get some breakfast on the table.
No more than half an hour later, the chatty Marigolds signalled Namjoon to look outside the window, but instead chose to go outside to shush the little buds.
It never got old. Seeing Yoongi walk towards his quaint little abode brought a smile to his face.
Like clockwork, he spied the Cresswood Ivy tangling itself around Yoongi’s leg as he stopped to smell the Tea Roses.
“Come on now, let go of Yoongi-hyung.”
“It’s okay, it’s not like it’s trying to eat me,” he cooed as the ivy tickled his hand before unwinding from him.
The little interaction made a genuine smile spread across the wood witch’s face. As gruff as he seemed, Namjoon knew that the man in front of him was anything but. He was kind to the plants and animals, he made sure to check up on the ahjumma at the vegetable stand who had arthritis in her fingers, and—
“Do you want breakfast? I made eggs benedict. The fisherman a town over gave me some smoked salmon and I know you like it on your eggs,” he blurted out.
Yoongi’s eyes widened and guffawed.
“You don’t even like salmon, Joon-ah.”
“Yeah, but you do,” Namjoon shrugged, then offered, “and the flowers were whispering about you coming over earlier.”
“This is why we can never throw surprise birthday parties for you,” Yoongi jokes.
Before the clumsy green witch can even stop himself, he lets out, “And maybe put some blinds up on your window.”
The comment made Yoongi choke on the forkful of eggs.
“Oh my Goddess, have some water, hyung,” he hands a glass to Yoongi, who gulps it down. Namjoon pats him on the back as the elder sputters out incredulously, “What?”
“The oaks have wandering eyes… and word travels fast when you live in a forest and the Black-eyed Susans don’t stop talking about the pretty mint-hair witch who comes everyday.”
“They must have the wrong mint-haired witch, because pretty, I am not.”
“Well, not to speak on their behalf but I’d say they have a pretty accurate description of you down.”
“Oh, so you agree with them, huh?” A playful smirk paints itself across Yoongi’s face and Namjoon curses his inability to keep his mouth shut.
“Well, yeah,” He puts it bluntly. Namjoon stuffs his mouth full of food lest he decides to blurt out any more confessions.
The way that Yoongi ducks his head down as his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink makes Namjoon feel so endeared, but he isn’t sure if he should be more nervous or happy about that fact. The air between them is thick and both men let the awkward silence hang for a second too long, but Yoongi is the first to speak up.
He offers to clean up (You always break something when I’m not here. Go talk to your plants or something.). The tall lanky witch just sits and watches the other clean up, listening to the little melody he hums mindlessly.
He finds himself getting lost in the domesticity of the situation and resolves to be more productive instead. Namjoon doesn’t have it in him to listen to more idle talk about Yoongi’s delicate collar bones, so he busies himself with tending to his herb garden.
He hears the familiar shuffling of Yoongi’s boots behind him.
“The pots are just drying in the sink, but I’ve put away the plates and cutlery.”
“Thank you, hyung.”
Yoongi tells him to stop stacking the cups in the cupboard before taking his leave, waving without looking back.
The flowers chit-chat about how even his shoulders look like a good place to perch for some sun.
Namjoon covers his ears and starts singing as loudly as he can, banishing the thought from his mind, and if it annoys the Snapdragons just enough to spit out fireballs in the vicinity of the Marigolds at his side, he doesn’t even bat an eye.
*~*~*~*
The wind has picked up significantly since the afternoon of a gloomy day, and Yoongi’s cloak is fluttering about his slender body. Namjoon watches as he holds it closed with one hand, the other fixing his soft curly hair. He eyes the loose thread hanging from where a clasp probably once was.
Yoongi picks at it.
“The button fell off and I keep losing track of time to sew a new one on.”
Namjoon just takes note silently.
“How is the cauldron?”
“It’s fine, but the spoon I’m using is causing funny reactions to my elixirs.”
“Are you sure it’s not because you added the wrong ingredient?” Yoongi quips.
“That was once, and it was a new recipe that Taehyung gave me. You know how atrocious his writing is. A guy just can’t catch a break around here, I swear,” he crosses his arms, to which Yoongi says a half-hearted apology in between his snickers.
They joke about for what seems like hours, but Namjoon never really keeps track of time when he’s with Yoongi. The conversation lulls, and Yoongi pulls something from his leather satchel.
“Well… here.”
The wood witch puts a wooden spoon in his hand.
Namjoon can tell that it’s a piece that is handmade. It’s carved with delicate details. There’s a braided ring on the neck, curly Coral Bell leaves etched into the handle and a small crescent moon cut out of the end. The part that catches his eye though is how smooth the bowl of the spoon is, probably from hours of sanding.
“Wow hyung, this is… this is beautiful. Did you make this?”
“Yeah,” he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “It’s made from a solid piece of Oak from one of the trees that fell during that storm a couple of months back. I also charmed it so it’s practically indestructible. Unless you feed it to a Whippled Jellyfish who drank a giant vat of acid, in which case then, all the hard work I put into it would be destroyed.”
“well, good thing I don’t have any use for either of those things then.” Namjoon turns the object in his hand, using his fingers to feel the little etchings.
Yoongi wrings his hands together then asks, “Do you…. Like it?”
“Yeah, I’ll be extra careful with it, hyung. Thank you.”
His dimple is as deep as his toothy grin is wide.
Namjoon’s heart feels full.
*~*~*~*
“Jin-hyung?” Yoongi calls into the home.
“In the kitchen,” Jin’s voice echoes through the narrow hallway. Yoongi makes his way to the back of the house, where Jin is making a new batch of tinctures to sell in his apothecary in town.
“What brings my favourite little woodsy goblin to my humble abode?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes at the cheeky comment. He could make a comment about the pink apron Jin has on, or about the new shade of platinum blond he’s sporting clashes with his collection of mustachioed dolls that lined the top shelf of his living room, but he arrives at the conclusion that being exiled from his hyung’s house would leave him foodless and lonelier than he wanted.
He opts for the next best thing.
“I gave Joon a spoon.”
The statement makes Jin stop stirring his concoction to stare Yoongi straight in the eyes.
“Did you tell him about your intentions, then?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer.
“You know, I don’t say much when it comes to your business, because of all the weird things that you and Joonie do while you dance around each other is your business, but sometimes I just wish that you would stop being so stubborn.”
Jin paces to the spice rack and takes out some bay leaves that he tosses into the mixture. Yoongi can tell he’s frustrated by the speed that Jin’s lecturing him at, compounded with the little huffs of sound he makes when he isn’t talking.
Jin lets out an exasperated sigh, his eyes softening.
“Your bull-headedness will only get you so far, Yoongichi.”
He turns back to the big cauldron and brings the spoon in his hand to his mouth to taste the mix.
Yoongi eyes the delicate details carved on the handle and on the back of the spoon. Etched on the neck is a ring of oak leaves, at the end of the spoon on the finial is a beautiful rose, finally on the back of the bowl of the spoon are his and Jeongguk’s initials, notably newer and crisper marks.
Jin notices the way he looks at the spoon, and just looks at Yoongi with soft understanding eyes.
“I’m not going to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do, but if you’re anything like Joonie, you’re both probably pining unnecessarily, and you should tell him what it means, Yoongichi.”
He knows he should.
He knows he should and yet, Yoongi’s answer to that is just letting out a big puff of air he didn’t even know he was holding in.
*~*~*~*
A pitter patter of paws barrels towards him and Namjoon crouches down in the middle of the spacious kitchen to pet the little white ball of fluff. “Hi Soonshim, did your owner leave you here all alone while he goes into town again?” He asks as he scratches under the small dog’s chin.
“Namjoon-hyung?”
Namjoon lifts his head to the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Ah, Ggukkie, is Jin-hyung home?”
“No, he’s delivering something to Jimin-hyung for the flock of ducklings he and Taetae-hyung are raising, and then he has to grab some Sunlight Essences from Hobi-hyung across town.”
Namjoon snaps his fingers at the mention of the astro-mage’s name and reminds himself to package up the dried bulbs of Lightning Ginger for him.
“Why? Did you need something?”
“I was just going to see if he had a tin of Quick Heal Balm to spare, but that’s fine, I’ll come back another time,” he says.
Just as he gets up to exit, Jeongguk exclaims, “Oh! Don’t leave yet, Jin-hyung saved you the biggest pumpkin in the patch for you to take home, let me go grab it from the back for you!”
He watches the young witch hop out the doorway and come back with an enormous pumpkin in a cart trailing behind him.
“When you said big, I thought it was like yea-big,” he gestures with his hands.
Jeongguk shrugs. He offers to help take it home with Namjoon, citing his boredom and lack of work to convince him.
Namjoon just ruffles his hair and agrees.
When they arrive at Namjoon’s, Jeongguk asks for Namjoon’s help to tip the cart as he eased the oversized gourd onto a patch of grass. By the end of the 15-minute-long ordeal, both of them are sweaty and parched.
Jeongguk settles himself on the counter (Yah, that’s where I cook, you brat) and takes the cup of water he is handed.
Once he’s downed the entire thing, he walks over to rinse it out when his eyes spot the spoon resting on a small plate.
His eyes twinkle with delight.
“Did Yoongi-hyung make it for you?” He asks, excitedly.
Namjoon finishes his own glass of water then says, “Yeah, he said he carved it for me. It’s honestly a lifesaver. Probably the best one I’ve owned considering the charm he put on it to make it indestructible.”
Jeongguk picks up the spoon delicately in his hands. His mouth is agape, as if he were holding in a hushed gasp.
“Oh my Goddess, he actually did—that’s a huge step. Hyung, this is a huge step.”
“What do you mean?”
Namjoon raises his eyebrows, watching as the younger’s doe eyes widen, shimmering with awe.
“Well, usually a wood witch only weaves a part of their soul into hand carved lovespoons—” clasps hands over his mouth.
“A what?” He somehow manages to ask as his jaw hung open, questioning whether he heard that correctly. “A what-spoon? Jeongguk—"
Jeongguk intercepts before Namjoon has a chance of finishing his sentence.
“I’ve said too much, I—I just, I’ll tell hyung you swang by and um, bye Joonie-hyung!”
“Wait—Gguk!”
Just as quick as he drank the water, Jeongguk speedily disappeared down the path and out of Namjoon’s sight.
His heart beat so fast
He jutted his jaw out, more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this.
*~*~*~*
What the village library lacked in size, made up for in the wealth of information, amongst a well-curated collection of books on a wide variety of topics. Hopefully the one that Namjoon was searching for was also there.
His search was aided by the local historian, who pointed him to the small shelf of books on traditions and rituals. It took Namjoon more time than he thought it would, but he enjoyed the menial task of sifting through the index of each book. It was almost relaxing to go through the repetitive motion.
His eyes scanned each page until he finally located what he was looking for. In the thick book titled “Vade Mecum of Elemental Witchery: Established Practices and Ceremonies” was a singular page on the subject. What surprised Namjoon more was the chapter it was under.
Chapter XVI: COURTSHIP AND MATING RITUALS
-Lovespoons-
The tradition of hand carving lovespoons in witching history dates back to the 10th century. Lovespoons, usually carved out of singular blocks of hardwoods, were first gifted from one witch to another as a symbol of trust and alliance between covens. It eventually evolved to be an item most traditionally gifted during courtship to symbolize affection and commitment. The classical woven or braided design of the spoon handle has been recorded to represent everlasting love. It should be noted that the gifter witch would often include the greatest offering by weaving in a sliver of their soul in order to create an indestructible bond between them and the giftee, found only in older artifacts collected.
Upon receiving a lovespoon, the giftee often wore the spoon around their neck to show that they were spoken for. In recent years, this practice has died out, instead replaced by the act of exchanging a handmade gift in return to show one’s acceptance.
This time-honoured custom is still practiced today in some communities around the world, though soul-weaving has died out, save except for a handful of established families.
Namjoon read and reread the page. His hands tremored. His chest felt like it was filled with glee and terror at the same time. A hundred thousand questions popped into his mind as the giant waves of the emotional tsunami hit him in the chest. He’s courting me? He weaved his soul into the spoon? What do I do now?
The question was less of a question than it was a means to an end. He knew what he wanted to do. No, what he had to do. He decided it was time to seize the horse by the reigns and he needed to make his own feelings known. First, he had to make a short stop to visit one kitchen witch’s home to speak to one Jeon Jeongguk.
*~*~*~*
It’s a fact that Namjoon has never been quite so good at keeping secrets. It’s one thing to tell him something in secrecy but it was another for him to keep a secret for himself. Yoongi knew this from the way the Namjoon was being more squirrely than usual.
The way he held back didn’t make Yoongi suspicious, but the level of comfort Namjoon had in holding back was fixed in the grimace he was sporting, and that? That was what got Yoongi worried.
“Is something the matter, Joon-ah?”
“Oh, um, no. I- there’s a big order for my elixirs, that’s all.”
Yoongi doesn’t let the way he’s side-stepping the question get to him and lets the subject drop. Not a minute later though, he grabs the younger’s hand and flips his palm up.
“Why are your fingertips bandaged up and your hands covered in cuts?” Concern is laced through Yoongi’s words as he inspected Namjoon’s hands.
Namjoon quickly retracts his hands but immediately regrets it when he sees a tinge of sadness colour Yoongi’s face.
“I just had a close call with one of his more temperamental Banshee Boxwood in the greenhouse. Got some cuts from it, is all.”
Yoongi just takes his hands in his and closes his eyes. The warm tingle spreads through his body and channels it to the connection with Namjoon’s hands.
He tenderly unwraps a bandage to check that all the little nicks are gone.
“I get a lot of cuts from his woodworking on smaller pieces, and when I was doing my apprenticeship with my master, he taught me this neat little trick.”
Yoongi can’t get a good read on the look he’s seeing when Namjoon just nods. An uncomfortable feeling sits at the bottom of his stomach. He tries to brush it off as best as he can. He’s brought out of his own thoughts when Namjoon clears his throat.
“Tomorrow’s the full moon. Are you going to the Autumn Solstice gathering at Jin-hyung’s tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
The unreadable look from before is replaced with what Yoongi thinks is relief, but the discomfort he feels inside still doesn’t leave.
“Okay, good. I-I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
He grunts and bobs his head.
On the way to town, Yoongi frowns, frustrated at the lack of clarity between him and the green witch.
*~*~*~*
It takes a bit of time, but Yoongi sees Jin’s house in the distance, though he was wishing that it wasn’t so windy and promises his cold, cold torso that he will sew a new button on his cloak firsts thing tomorrow morning before working.
He makes it just in time for the moon to hit the pinnacle in the sky, and Jin-hyung leads them through the Autumn Solstice ritual. Instead of the usual blood sacrifice to the Goddess of Harvest (It’s too barbaric, hyung!) they used a jar of mixed berry jam (it looks close enough to the real thing) that Taehyung supplied. They joined their hands and wordlessly prayed for a bountiful season, and that they would have success in all their endeavours until the new year.
Afterward, they ate the glorious spread that Jin had prepared, drank the crimson Snakeberry wine that Jimin had mulled, and when the dancing began, Yoongi pardoned himself for a breath of fresh air when he saw Namjoon gesturing for him to go outside.
Yoongi looks Namjoon up and down, watching him shift on his feet.
“Wh-what’s the matter, Joon-ah?”
He watches with a keen eye the way that the tall man fiddles with something in his pocket.
“You have to promise you’ll let me talk before you say anything, hyung.”
“Okay.”
Namjoon takes a deep breath.
“I know what the spoon means.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen almost comically as Namjoon continued to speak.
“I know that it’s a lovespoon, and I’m sorry that I’ve been so dense. I don’t know why I didn’t notice earlier, I-I should’ve seen it, but I was so lost in my own head that I didn’t, a-and—” He stutters and lets out a high whining noise from his nose.
He pulls out a small object from his pocket, though it’s still held in Namjoon’s closed fist. Yoongi’s heart is beating so fast he thinks it might come out of his chest.
“I read that it was tradition to exchange a gift to show you reciprocate the feelings,” Namjoon wipes his hands on the seat of his pants and reveals a small wooden brooch in his open palm, and continues, “and us green witches, we usually gift brooches in courtship, but I also wanted to incorporate your tradition into it too, so that’s why my hands have been so nicked up. I didn’t realize how much splinters hurt until I was picking them out in bushels from my fingertips.”
Yoongi opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. He reaches out a tentative hand and brings the brooch close to his face. His eyes begin to water, making Namjoon look at him in concern. He puts his hands on Yoongi’s waist, bringing him close enough to feel the warmth radiate from his body.
“I know this is ugly, and it’s not made as nicely as a wood witch would, but I tried my best to follow Jeongguk’s instructions.”
The silence from the shorter man is petrifying, and the fear of rejection finally hits him, so he backpedals, “You don’t have to take it, hyung. I don’t even know if you’d still accept me after hiding this from you for so long. I’m sorry, I'll just go. I’ll—"
Yoongi slaps his hand over Namjoon’s mouth.
“Shut up and kiss me already,” he breathes out, closing the distance between them, their lips brushing together until their lips touched. Their eyes fluttered closed and time stood still. Yoongi snaked one hand around the back of Namjoon’s head to deepen the kiss, the other wrapping around his back.
They separate their lips to embrace one another, trying to live in the moment for a little longer.
Yoongi pokes the dimple on Namjoon’s face, who then speaks up.
“So, does this mean that… y’know—you want to…?”
“Pin it on me, Joon-ah.”
He pierces the tough woolly fabric with care, somehow managing to avoid sticking himself with it, then leaves a lingering peck on Yoongi’s cheek, making him blush.
*~*~*~*
They both go back inside thinking everyone is still getting drunk on the honey mead Jimin and Taehyung brewed, only to be bombarded with knowing eyes.
Jeongguk ends up being the one to speak up.
“So?? Did Yoongi-hyung accept it?”
Namjoon blushes furiously and shyly eyes Yoongi whose face is just as red as Hoseok’s drunken flush on his body. He shoots a blazing glare at the younger boy and grabs Namjoon’s hand in his and drags him to sit down in front of the fireplace. ‘M cold.
A chorus of finally’s and a shrill took you both long enough light up the room.
Neither Namjoon nor Yoongi has enough energy to justify their friends’ reactions tonight, and just entwines their fingers together.
*~*~*~*
(We’ll deal with it tomorrow.)
(Maybe they’ll be sober enough to remember it.)
(Probably not, Joonie.)
(Hey! Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, you two dumb-dumbs. Show some respect for your elders!!)