Chapter Text
Yang Jeongin isn't lacking in much.
He's a straight A student, a member of his college’s student council board, and not too shabby in the face-and-personality department.
He's not lacking in much, but there is one category Jeongin is quite deficient in.
A boyfriend.
Jeongin is single as the day is long, and it's starting to wear on him. He just wants some goddamn companionship already! Some love reciprocated! Someone to wear matching hoodies with and take cute pictures by the river-walk with!
But sadly, Jeongin is smack-dab in the middle of summer vacation, so it's not like he has the endless sprawl of campus to hunt for a boy to hang on his arm. He's not in any classes, so he has no opportunity to plant himself next to a cutie, send him a coquettish grin, and leave the lecture with some new digits in his phone.
So Jeongin wants a boyfriend, and has zero chances to get any—especially in his wonderfully suburban neighborhood, filled with excited kids speeding on their trikes and parents pushing strollers, not college-aged single boys looking for a partner.
Not wanting to cast his proverbial line into the shadowy abyss known as dating apps, Jeongin took the next most logical step in his mission to get a boyfriend before summer vacation ends.
He swung by the potion shop on the corner of Beech Street and Ocean Avenue. It's a small, quaint little place, built of lichen-encrusted stack stone and a lovely thatched roof. It looks startlingly out of place in the middle of the built up shopping district downtown, but its dichotomy with its surroundings is one of the magic shop’s distinct charms.
A wrought iron, cauldron shaped sign hangs from rusted posts above the mite-bitten door.
Chanie’s Room of Potions is scrawled across the sign face. Barely readable, what with how the march of time has chipped the white paint to smithereens. A gust of summer wind blew through, making the rusty hinges squeak and the cauldron shaped sign bob in the breeze.
Jeongin has visited the magic shop many a time before, mostly to pick up bushels of dried mugwort and lavender so he has something cleansing to burn when school got particularly stressful. But he's never purchased what the store is titularly known for; potions. Spells. Magic, bottled up in little vials for easy ingestion. Hexes, hidden in a locked trunk in the back room, only accessible if you pester Chan about it for two weeks or more. That way he knows you're serious. Hexes are serious. Period.
Jeongin tore his gaze off the sign, and pushed through the door. Equally ancient bells strung above the lintel sang upon his entrance, and the heady scent of musk and dust and residual spells and fairy dust hit him upside the head. It smells like an attic, but an attic that has woven wildflowers and peat moss for walls. The scent of post-casted magic has always been a doozy for Jeongin, as far as explanations go.
The store may be small as far as square footage goes, but it packs just about everything you could ever want from a potion proprietor in those four squat walls. Wreaths of dried peony and marigold hang from the low rafters, petals dried to a crisp and occasionally chipping off; only to fall onto an unassuming customer’s head, like a first snowfall. Evil eyes made of azure beads are fastened above the door, to keep the energy within shop as pure as possible. There's a mounted “unicorn horn” hanging above the checkout counter, but as far as Jeongin's concerned, it's from a narwhal.
Chan spins a mighty tall tale about finding the horn in a supposedly enchanted wood years ago, but Jeongin isn't that gullible. He'll believe it when the hornless-unicorn it fell from comes in to claim what's theirs.
And then there's the potions. Everywhere you look, shelves upon shelves of multicolor bottles greet the eye. Shoved into every nook and cranny, red and blue and purple and green and every color in between. Sparkling vials, as if brewed with glitter. Disconcertingly matte bottles, as if the liquid contents within is purely painted onto the inside of the glass. Each lovingly made by hand in Chan's very own cauldron, in his upstairs enchanting room. With help from his doting apprentice Felix, of course.
There’s potions for temporary happiness, and drinkable spells for bursts of mental clarity during a pinch. Spells to help ease the ache in your heart after a breakup. Potions to lessen fear of heights, marketed to be taken minutes before a flight departs for maximum efficacy. Anything your heart and mind could desire, Chan has a potion for it. Even dried spells, compressed into pill-form for easy swallowing. Even chewable versions, for those who never learned to swallow. Call Chan what you want, but you can't leave “enterprising” off that list.
There's a telltale figure behind the counter, muscular and pale to the point of appearing to glow in the artsy lowlight of the store. Dark hair visibly curly and extra puffed from the severe humidity of the summer day. The vintage sconces along the walls seep fuzzy gold light onto the hundreds of potions, adding to the already apparent air of magic in the shop.
“Hello, welcome to Chanie’s–oh, Jeongin!” A familiar voice called from behind the thick mahogany counter, so tall and imposing it comes up to his broad chest.
“Hi, Chan.” Jeongin greeted the magic-store owner happily, sending his friend a wave. He and Chan have grown relatively close, since Jeongin's first visit to the little shop. Extremely encouraging and caring, Chan always eagerly helps Jeongin pick out just the right sachet of purification herbs, depending on the cause of his stress.
School stress? A packet of dried aspen leaves.
Family stress? A tied bundle of rosemary and sage.
Boy stress?
Well...Jeongin’s never come to Chan about that before. …..Until now, that is.
“What can I help you with, ‘Innie? I haven't seen you ‘round in a while! Felix missed seeing you in the shop.” Chirped Chan, as he waved Jeongin over to the counter. Chan’s dimpled smile is so inviting, so addicting to the eye, Jeongin felt a genuine grin of his own already upturn his lips.
As always, Chan is donning the all-black ensemble of a practicing enchanter, but in the form of a thin black cotton tee and ripped jeans in order to combat the heat.
In a way, Chan has filled the role of magic-mentor in Jeongin's life. And that of a nurturing older brother as well—just don't tell Jeongin's actual older brother, away at an out of state college, he said that.
“Sorry for taking so long, Chan,” Jeongin sing-songed, mock bowing to the elder. “Is Felix here today?” He added, as he righted himself once again.
Chan shook his head, but the affectionate smile is still gracing his lips. “Nope, out at the meadow gathering some fresh lavender for me today. Bless his heart, the mosquitoes are out in force today.”
Jeongin chuckled, wincing at the thought of his freckled-buddy fighting off more buggers than picking fragrant flowers for Chan. “At least you have that potion for bug bites, right?”
Chan hummed, “Yup! Chan’s Own Bug-be Gone,” The owner warbled like a songbird, happily pointing off to a corner of the store. Somewhere to the left, near the corner showcase featuring spells for pleasant dreams. A setup of bright green vials, the label printed with a cartoon mosquito being crushed under the sole of a boot. “Currently on sale, two for the price of one.” He tacked on, coupled with a waggle or his brows.
Ever the savvy businessman, that Chan.
Jeongin shook his head, unsurprised at Chan’s antics but equal parts bemused. He swallowed down his laughter like cough medicine, before speaking again.
“So…” Jeongin began, suddenly feeling exponentially hotter than he was mere seconds prior. “The reason why I'm here is…”
God, how is he gonna put this?! How can he put this, to make it seem the least….sad ? Desperate? Ridiculous?
Chan leaned closer to Jeongin from across the counter, prompting him to continue.
“I was hoping you had a spell, or something, to help me get a…. boyfriend?”
And there you have it. The most severe mortification of Jeongin’s young life, right there. At least he managed to murmur the request without tripping over his words. A little victory. Not like it helps the big picture.
Jeongin is still staring at the scuffed toes of his sneakers, cheeks flushed to volcanic temperatures and wishing for the creaking floorboards to swallow him whole, when he heard Chan hum again.
At least he's not laughing at me, Jeongin thought, somewhat relieved. He didn't expect Chan to judge him, of course. As far as he's concerned, Chan doesn't have a judging bone in his whole body. If anything, Jeongin is judging himself for coming out with the proposition. Like, who turns to magical means in order to get a boyfriend ?! Isn't that...cheating, or something?
Oh well. It's too late now.
Jeongin forced his gaze off his shoes, only to find Chan staring off into the store, eyes vaguely glazed and his lips pursed in thought.
Chan tapped at his chin, before his eyes widened with realization. His irises seemed to shine with inner light, as an idea visibly burst into his head.
A huge, beaming smile pulled onto his lips, as he exclaimed, “I think I have just the thing!” Chan rounded the counter as he made the announcement, gesturing over his shoulder for Jeongin to follow him.
Jeongin toddled after Chan, the store owner half-jogging down the center shop aisle and then hanging a sharp right. Past the knit talismans for good luck. Past the dried sunset lilies, tied with twine. Jeongin tried to keep up, but the store is so tightly packed he feared he would knock over a nearby display case if he revved his speed past a brisk walk.
Much to his relief, Chan skidded to a halt before an unassuming box on an unassuming shelf.
He plucked a small, thin packet from the box, looked it over, nodded in satisfaction, and turned on his heel. He extended the tiny slip to Jeongin, a triumphant look on his face.
Jeongin furrowed his brows, but took the packet with a tentative hand nonetheless. The thing is crazy light, and no bigger than a run of the mill tea bag. The brown paper is soft, as if layered with a thin coat of velvet.
“This should do the trick, ‘Innie.” Chan mused, and it just hit Jeongin that he hasn't even read the packet yet. He doesn't even know what the thing is! It's not a potion, that's for sure. Maybe it's one of those chewable spell-tablets Chan is so proud of? Maybe something to make him more attractive? Or to make boys flock to him like bees to a flower?
Jeongin squinted down at the print on the packet, fighting for clarity in the increased lowlight in the back of the store.
'Grow Your Own Boyfriend!’
The packed reads in bold, blocky lettering. Jeongin was much too taken aback to stop reading in order to question his, and by proxy, Chan’s sanity. Maybe he spoke too soon with that bees to a flower thought.
‘Just plant, water, and in 3-5 days you'll grow a fully functioning boyfriend of your own!’
‘Grow your own boyfriend corp. is not to be held liable for any non-growing boyfriends’ is typed in extremely-small fine print beneath.
Jeongin blinked down at the sachet, as if it's merely a hallucination. He turned it over. The back is completely blank. No serial number, or batch referral, or ‘ Made In_” to be seen. Jeongin turned it back over.
'Grow Your Own Boyfriend!’ is staring back at him again. He's not hallucinating.
“Chan,” Jeongin muttured, suddenly breathless. “What is this?”
Chan cocked his head, as if it's weird for Jeongin to be confused right about now. “It's exactly what it says it is!” He chirped, as if that should explain everything.
At Jeongin’s continued expression of severe, severe bafflement, Chan elaborated. He pointed at the tiny packet, and said, “These are magic seeds. Just plant them in the ground, water them twice a day, and boom!” Chan made a vaguely dramatic gesture with both hands. “You'll grow a nature elemental that will–for all intents and purposes–be your boyfriend!”
A nature elemental? Jeongin thought, scrunching his brows in turn.
“But isn't that...unethical?” Jeongin wheezed, still finding it difficult to catch a full breath.
Chan seems confused again. “How so?”
Jeongin shrugged, looking down at the packet as if it'll sprout teeth and bite him. “Growing a sentient being just so I can... date it seems...icky.”
And when he put it that way, Chan now seems to fully understand everything. He winced, “Yeah, I guess ,” Before he quickly got himself back on track. “But you asked for a quick boyfriend fix, Jeongin! This is all I got–take it or leave it.”
There's a lump in Jeongin's throat preventing him from answering, and Chan seems privy to that.
“ Look,” Chan said, “Just try it, ok? If these seeds aren't planted within the year, the elemental will die. Who knows, maybe you and the guy will hit if off, and you'll both fall in love. And if not, you can just release him into the forest, and never see him again. Nature elementals are great pollinators, so you'll be doing a good deed for the environment if it doesn't work out. See? Win win!”
Jeongin seriously considered each of Chan’s statements. He let them ruminate in his brain, unpacking each in turn as he gazed up at the archaic rafters.
The innocent elemental dying, without ever getting a chance at life? Sounds bad. Jeongin not taking the seeds and willingly allowing the poor thing to wither sounds even more unethical than his previous call out! Them possibly, and naturally, falling in love? Sounds good. An extra pollinator to help summer flowers flourish in the woods outside town if they don't mix? Also good!
Plus, Jeongin lives alone in a quaint little bungalow, so it's not like he has to worry about explaining to his family why there's suddenly a new tenant in the house.
The pros outweigh the cons, just like that. He's thought it over. He knows his answer. However, the idea of packaging, buying and selling these elementals, even if they are currently in a non-sentient seed form, still leaves a bad taste in Jeongin’s mouth. But for his own sake, he elected to ignore the unsavory connotations, and the possible repercussions this decision will have on his once-squeaky clean moral compass.
Jeongin tightened his grip on the seed packet, but still kept his hold gentle enough so that delicate pods aren't crushed.
His heart is pounding, and sending waves of heat through his body. He looked Chan right in the eye, and said with surety, “I'll take him.” Him. It sounds right. No matter what happens, it'll be fine. A win-win, like Chan said.
Chan nodded, and sent Jeongin a knowing smile. He clapped the younger on the shoulder, and ushered them back down the aisle, towards the storefront.
“Will that be cash or credit?”
🌱🌱🌱
Three dollars and twenty cents later, Jeongin is the (maybe) proud owner of a packet of boy-seeds. Who knew nature elementals are so dirt cheap—no pun intended.
Luckily for him, the weather is ideal today, and the temperature and sunlight is perfect for doing some gardening. And also luckily, Jeongin has an empty spot right next to his petunia bush, in his side garden.
Chan left him with detailed instructions on how to properly grow his “boyfriend”, and they seemed simple enough. Perhaps too simple, given how Jeongin is about to quite literally grow a living being out from his garden. Hopefully. If everything goes according to plan.
The nature elemental needs full sun, watering twice a day (three times if there's no cloud cover) and preferably enough space on either side for a human body to emerge from under the mulch. Apparently the hole itself doesn't need to be any deeper than any other plant, according to Chan. Which is a relief, because Jeongin was not looking forward to digging a 5-foot plus hole by his white picket fence.
Jeongin sighed, apprehensively, and picked up his trowel. He stuck it deep into the dirt, and with a bit of elbow grease a perfectly-sized divot is dug in the free spot.
With that done, Jeongin gently picked up the seed packet, and tore open the perforated seal. He poured three small, beady seeds into his palm. They're delicate yellow. Almost blonde.
Jeongin stared at them, somewhat longingly. God. What is he doing? Is he really going to do this? Has he really gotten desperate to the point of growing a fucking boyfriend? Who might not even be his boyfriend, on the otherside of this?
Yes. The answer is yes.
But as far as Jeongin is concerned, he's setting himself up for failure, so he can say this was an exercise in environmental protection. We need more pollinators out there, that much he knows!
Without another thought to make him double back, Jeongin set the three seeds in the shallow pit, and used his trowel to cover them up with the tiny mound of dirt beside it. He patted it firm, before snatching up his bright red watering can and saturating the seeds with enough H2O to last it through a desert drought.
Jeongin sat back on his heels, and stared at the dirt. It glistens in the sun, as the water soaks deep into the pit and feeds the seed pods.
He sighed again.
He suddenly remembered another of Chan's instructions, as he gazed dazedly at the wet mulch. “You know how people say to talk to plants to make them grow faster? That works with nature elementals too!” The store owner eagerly recounted Jeongin. “You can tell him about yourself, so he'll know a bit about you when he blooms.”
Jeongin looked at Chan like he had three heads. “He’ll...hear me?”
Chan nodded. “Yup! Just try it, alright?”
Jeongin gulped, and quickly gave the street outside his picket fence a once over. The coast is clear, thankfully. Just in case, he scooted even closer to the new resident in his garden, uncaring of the muddy brown stains he rubbed onto the knees of his jeans.
Jeongin leaned down, and muttered towards the damp earth, “Hey? I'm Jeongin. Nice to...meet you?”
He's talking to the dirt. He's talking to the dirt.
“Um,” Jeongin stammered, pushing down another gulp. “I hope we can be...friends? I'm not a weirdo, I promise!”
You're having a one-sided conversation with an empty spot in your garden, and are attempting to grow a fucking boyfriend. You're a weirdo, Jeongin’s subconscious sneered at him, but he forced those intrusive thoughts away as best he could.
Jeongin felt his cheeks begin to redden, as he coughed out, “W-well, I’ll, uh, talk to you later? I guess?”
With that, Jeongin pushed himself off the grass before his side-garden, and up to his feet. He dusted whatever splotches of mulch off his knees he could, but the light denim is bordering on indigo, what with how much dirt is caking the grain.
Jeongin wiped a tack of sweat off his brows with the back of his hand, and collected his watering can and trowel.
Well, now all he has to do is wait? And water the patch, and...talk to it? Tell it about himself, as Chan recommended?
Sounds easy enough, he supposes.
Jeongin can't deny it, but his heart is thundering with a strange sense of excitement, as he makes his way back to his front door. In fact, he found himself smiling, as he stole a glance over his shoulder and back at his garden.
And maybe it was a trick of the sunlight, but as he gazed at the patch of dirt next to his petunias, Jeongin could have sworn the earth seemed to sparkle a bit brighter than it did moments before.