Chapter Text
It’s dark and cold outside. It has been for a while. The rainy season is upon them, and summer slowly fading away. Jimin kind of hates the new schedule. He much preferred waking up at noon, gorging some noodles with his eyes half open. Only once his lips looked twice their size due to spiciness would he open up his laptop to check what he had to review.
He’s really lucky, though, that he was able to find Yoongi when he did. It wasn’t like he really had that many options for employment given his…specialty. So, working in an office filled with like-minded people sounded like a dream.
Like-minded meaning they were all witches.
It had been an uncomfortable discovery process. And yet, somehow, it’d been much less of a struggle than figuring out he was bisexual. It really did make sense that most—if not all—witchy coworkers were also part of the alphabet mafia, though. But sadly enough for him, instead of getting all his dreams of magical queerness realized, the year 2020 hit him like a bus, and he was forced to be home with his cat. At first, he’d mourned the absence of those he already considered part of his family—even though they’d barely seen each other before quarantine—but now…it’s been really difficult going back to the “office.” Especially given the fact that he’s been forced to share a desk with a witch he wishes he could actually turn into a frog.
Today, at least, he gets to go to the actual “front” of the office. The one with the nice desk that he, unfortunately, has to share.
He may not be the most expert witch in the world, but he knows enough to enchant his umbrella to actually avoid the shitty, angled rain that gets his pants wet and his socks too. He normally doesn’t get to do this kind of thing in public—magic, that is—but nobody really pays attention when it rains. Another blessing for him, really.
Jimin tries to turn on the lights as soon as he opens and unlocks the front door of the store—aka, the “bookshop” that passes as the “normal” side to their office—but all the switch does is make noise.
The power was cut off because of the rain.
Of course, it was.
Jimin sighs and closes the door behind himself. He shakes off some rain off his umbrella before putting it with all the others, shaking off his boots as well even though they’re mostly dry, and then he hangs his coat on the hanger and walks toward the desk with his kitty slippers on. Normally, he’d keep his boots, but they’re not meant to be open today, so he takes the chance to be as comfortable as possible.
He opens a drawer, grabs a scentless candle, and places it on the pretty little plate Yoongi had made in one of those rare pockets of pandemic freedom. They’d taken the course together, and Yoongi’s work had turned out to be incredible. It really looks like it could be sold at an art gallery—Jimin’s turned into a paperweight at his house, meanwhile, but he doesn’t want to think about that—so he should’ve at least considered that Yoongi channeled his magic whilst working with the porcelain. Jimin sighs again, God , he really wishes he could do that too.
For now, though, he pinches the wick of the candle with his index and thumb, takes a deep breath and—
“Yes!”
The flame flickers in the darkness, the candle illuminating the desk while Jimin admires his work. It’s not a lot, but hey, a couple of years ago, he didn’t even know he had powers, so he’ll take it. He moves around the place and lights up a few more, enough so that he can see where he’s going.
He’d love to procrastinate a little more, but he has to actually get to work now. There’s a reason why they call it a “company” and an “office” and it’s more than just so that humans won’t be confused (and so they can follow the law). It’s because Yoongi is quite the businessman. They have to live under capitalism, so might as well make some money off it.
Jimin was working for a boring publisher that paid relatively well before he met Yoongi, but the types of books he used to edit were, to put it kindly, awful. Not so much for the quality of the writing—though that, too, was often nightmarish—but more so because he found most people just writing autobiographies or fictionalized ones, so clear that the protagonist winning in the end only left a bitter taste in his mouth at the amount of pride and self-righteousness those authors showed.
So, it should’ve come as no surprise when, after following a pretty black cat down to the door of a store, he would’ve without hesitation let himself fall down the metaphorical rabbit hole. He still remembers turning the corner of the street, the cobblestone making every step of his echo. He called out for the cat, but instead got the door opening up to a strange man with long, black silky hair, cat-like eyes, and the words, “Would you like to work for me?”
Thankfully, Yoongi never did anything as dramatic after that—maybe because Jimin teased him about it relentlessly for years afterward—but he kind of looks on it fondly now. He only started doing little freelance things for Yoongi at first, keeping his job at the publisher, being bored out of his mind, and then going to Yoongi’s store, Seesaw, and helping him prepare spells and potions like he had any idea what he was doing.
And of course, when Yoongi asked him to join them full-time, that happened, so…
To say it hasn’t been a struggle would be a lie.
Because editing magical books from home was almost as monotonous as editing some random man’s autobiography that no one would ever read (Jimin’s favorite pastime for a while was looking up the books he edited on Amazon and seeing 0 purchases).
But now that he was here he wanted to learn more! He wanted to make trees grow, burn down things, and heal wounds! And yet things were still so restricted he was reduced to inventory checking, potion prepping, and investigating “the gatherings.”
Yoongi had him written down as an “apprentice,” which was absolute bullshit because meanwhile, Jimin’s number one enemy and newbie at the office, Jungkook the Demon—alternatively, his deskmate—was actively in the research team, traveling around the country gathering artifacts, getting lost in the woods in search of magical flowers, and possibly even talking with fairies! (Jimin really wanted to meet a fairy, okay?)
Jimin wanted to be out in the field too, but instead, he was forced to just study what they gathered and stay within these four walls. He feels himself pouting at the desk at the mere thought of it.
It was really only fun when Yoongi was there with him—which was rare given restrictions—because watching his hands hover over a possible magic object, watching the way that it glows, talks, and sings …nothing could compare to that.
His iPad tells him that the doll in the big jar in front of him is apparently cursed, but he doesn’t feel anything. Could the research team have been wrong?
He touches the jar: it’s cold.
Trying a different approach, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and focuses .
There’s something there , oh he can feel it . Something breathes, and he tries to find where it exactly is, the doll feels like it’s getting colder, there’s a gust of wind around him. He knows the candles go out without even opening his eyes. There are goosebumps on his skin, and he’s not sure if it’s out of fear or cold, but the wild beating of his heart is making it hard for him to make up his mind.
He’s starting to lose it, the thing is not in front of him, it’s behind him .
He turns around with a gasp just as the door to the back room opens and the dark figure behind him makes him scream.
The figure scrambles, back hitting the door that just opened as he screams too.
Wait.
“What the fuck?!” Jungkook’s very recognizable voice yells.
Jimin wants to curse him back but he’s gripping the desk behind him for dear life and his heart is barely starting to go back to its proper place down his throat.
“Who are you?!” Jungkook yells again.
Jimin only knows it’s him because of his voice. He’d only heard him in the audios he’d send sometimes—complaining about them having to share a desk, of course. Their “meetings” don’t require cameras, and apparently for Jungkook that meant no pictures either. Jeon Jungkook, the demon, his deskmate, the man Jimin is convinced can’t actually be in his twenties. Call him biased, but he can’t really think otherwise when most of their communication added up to passive-aggressive post-it notes, angry stickers, and hate letters.
Still, recognizing that it’s Jungkook there with him doesn’t ease Jimin’s nerves in the slightest either. Even though he’s not afraid his coworker will end his life on the spot, it’s hard to feel safe when the entire place is pitch black.
And then Jungkook snaps his fingers and it’s like the sun comes up right at that second, right at the moment their eyes meet. The cold of the morning has a different feeling.
Jimin opens his mouth to speak, not really thinking of what to say, but he doesn’t manage a single sound before Jungkook’s voice cuts through the silence.
“Pretty,” he whispers.
And Jimin melts . He giggles. It’s so high-pitched and so sudden that he can’t even pretend when both his hands fly to cover his mouth. He feels like his face is on fire, like actually in flames. He’s not covering his eyes, but he might as well be because he’s so focused on the floor, his vision gets blurry.
Jungkook is not doing that much better, but instead of looking away, he’s taking the sight of Jimin in. From his rosy cheeks to his pretty black hair, shining with the sun. His hands are so pretty, they look small, and given how bashful he is acting, that only adds to how cute Jungkook finds him.
Jimin finally ventures a glance back, and when their eyes meet, he squeaks .
“What?!” he barely manages, trying to anger himself back into some semblance of confidence. He stomps his foot and crosses his arms, hoping to be intimidating, maybe. Jungkook just finds it cuter.
“Nothing, I just…” Jungkook trails off.
“Just what, Jungkook?”
“When I saw your notes calling me an immature child for literally just organizing the desk and complaining about it, I didn’t expect you to be so…” Once again, he trails off, but this time, Jimin waits—in spite of his lack of patience—to hear what his self-proclaimed arch-nemesis has to say. “So fucking cute.”
Jimin gasps like Jungkook just insulted his entire ancestry rather than compliment him, and that just makes Jungkook grin. And that only pisses Jimin off even more.
“You once left a creamy cupcake on the chair , and I sat on it and ruined my favorite pair of pants! You don’t get to call me cute.”
“No?”
“No!”
“Okay, but you are cute, though.”
“What the f—No, you know what? You’re not gonna get me.”
Jimin turns back around, suddenly not feeling an ounce of fear for the stupid doll on the desk—well, their —desk, doing his best to pretend Jungkook isn’t even a real person anymore. His attempt lasts a whopping 30 seconds before Jungkook pulls out the chair before him—somehow teleporting by his side, stupid fast, muscly little…
“What are you doing?” Jimin snaps.
“Pulling the chair back for you, like a gentleman.”
Jimin scoffs.
“Okay, now I don’t want it.”
“Okay, then I’ll sit.”
Without a second to waste, Jungkook sits down, leaving Jimin standing right beside him, mouth agape.
“That is my chair!”
“Well, you didn’t want it, so.”
“That’s because I wasn’t going to fall for your tricks!”
“What tricks? Did you think I was going to pull it from under you? Come on, Jimin-ssi, I’m not twelve.”
“You sure act like it.”
“Excuse me? I’m not the one claiming a chair that, need I remind you, we both have been sharing.”
At that, Jimin quiets down, arms crossed once more. He’s way too tired at 8 in the morning to have a proper argument, as much as he’d love to eloquently drag Jungkook through the mud for all the stupid little pranks he’s pulled in the last couple of months they’ve been forced to share this space.
There’s another chair at the other side of the desk, but he hates that spot in the morning because the sun shines right through… Logically, he should walk around and sit there, but he’s feeling way too stubborn for that. As frustrating as it is, if Jungkook finds him cute, then maybe…
“Jungkook…” Jimin pouts, puppy-dog eyes at full effect as he leans down a bit.
Jungkook had already pulled out his laptop from his bag, but at Jimin’s call, he nearly drops it before it reaches the desk.
He can’t even get a word out, he just nods in acknowledgment.
Green light.
Jimin runs his fingers through his hair, proudly watching the way Jungkook’s entire body is now turned to him. He knows he looks good.
“Could you please let me sit here?” he says, a whine in his voice.
Jungkook nods and stands up before he can even finish the question, stumbling over his steps. It’s maybe a little adorable too. And Jimin can’t help it, his cutesy act drops a bit because watching his coworker struggle to move his things from one side of the desk to the other gets a genuine smile out of him. And he’s staring, he should probably know, but he doesn’t until their eyes meet again, and all he hears is his own heartbeat and the early morning birds outside.
A second, a minute—it feels like an eternity between then and finally looking away.
It’s hard to get any work done after that.
So he doesn’t try anymore. He disregards his iPad and the possibly cursed artifact and leans forward on the desk instead. He really has no idea why Jungkook even brought a laptop, but he’s too curious to just let it go. Maybe “interested” is more like it, but he doesn’t want to think about that. This is purely professional, of course.
“What are you working on?” he asks.
Jungkook glances at him for half a second and goes back to typing. His pupils were definitely shaking.
Not deterred in the slightest, Jimin asks, “What were you doing in the back room?”
This time, Jungkook doesn’t even pause typing.
“How did you turn the sun on ?”
At that, Jungkook snorts, fingers stopping before he just moves the computer aside.
“I opened the curtains, Jimin-ssi, it stopped raining an hour ago.”
“Okay, there’s no need to sass me about it,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes. “I thought you’d be out gathering mushrooms or something; isn’t that what your team does on Fridays?” He pauses. “Why are you here?”
Jungkook’s gaze wanders around the room, looking at all the candles Jimin had lit—there’s a quirk to his lips that makes Jimin want to slap him, the previous soft atmosphere completely crumbling—and then he settles on the jar.
“I’m supposed to be studying that,” he says, pointing out the doll again. Then, he hesitates. “Please tell me you didn’t open the jar.”
Jimin’s shaking his head in disbelief before he can even think it through. “How stupid do you think I am?”
“Enough to touch the jar,” Jungkook immediately fires back.
“What? How—”
“I just guessed,” Jungkook says, smirking. “I must’ve guessed right.”
Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
Jimin focuses on a loose string of Jungkook’s shirt, smoke starts to ooze off it.
And then he’s flicked on the forehead so hard he whines. “What was that for?”
“Are you joking? You were trying to set my shirt on fire!”
“Just the one thread,” he pouts. “Besides, you were being an asshole.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he catches himself before giving Jimin another revenge opening. “What if there’s a demon in there, huh?”
“Well, there’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“I couldn’t feel anything,” Jimin adds, crossing his arms. “I thought I did, but it was just you being a creep in the back. Which, by the way, you still haven’t told me why. Do we not both work here when we’re at the actual office?”
Jungkook sighs, mirroring Jimin’s body without really thinking. “I don’t like using the front entrance when I come over.”
Jimin waits for him to elaborate, but when he doesn’t, he asks, “And?”
“And so I come in through storage.”
The silence is so… Jimin wants to rip his skin off, but Jungkook looks so comfortable it’s insane. It’s unfair!
“We don’t have the same work schedule, so why are you here ?” Jimin finally asks, each word slower and slower like he’s talking to a small child.
Jungkook’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t react further. He just goes back to typing like the conversation never happened in the first place.
“Are you just going to ignore me, now?” Jimin asks.
He counts to ten, but when Jungkook doesn’t even glance his way, he tries to think of a different tactic.
He should probably get back to work, whatever that is now since he’s too embarrassed to investigate the doll any further but getting the cold shoulder like this after asking a question is so…disrespectful to him that he just can’t let it go.
So he stands up, rounds the desk, and—
“Don’t even think about it,” Jungkook snaps, spinning the chair around to face Jimin—wait, since when did the chair have wheels?
“How do you even know what I was going to do?”
“You’re literally standing behind me—well, in front of me now, I guess.”
Jimin tries to look over his shoulder to see what Jungkook was working on, but it seems that the screen went black in record time because he cannot see a thing.
“That’s on purpose, you know?”
“Huh?”
“I put a spell on my laptop so only I can look at what I do on it,” Jungkook explains.
“Oh,” Jimin starts, “that’s dumb.”
Jungkook gasps, almost kicking his chair to the ground when he stands up.
“Oh yeah? I bet you can’t do that,” He retorts.
Jimin scoffs. “Why would I want to? Did you learn that to hide your porn?”
Jungkook narrows his eyes at him, looking a little smoky again—not Jimin’s fault this time. But then he takes a deep breath and turns around again.
He doesn’t get too far before there’s a whole Jimin standing in the space between his body and the desk. Way too close. Jungkook’s breath catches, but he doesn’t take a single step back.
It makes Jimin smirk.
Gently, he puts his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, his eyes traveling up and down his arm at the same pace as his fingers. He has to suppress another giggle when he finally takes a look up and meets Jungkook’s eyes. The poor boy gulps .
“We have to work here together, right?” Jimin asks, softly. His voice is so low, Jungkook hears his vocal fry; it makes his whole body tense up, and he can’t even think. Still, Jimin continues, “Be nice to me; I’ll be good .”
Stumbling back, Jungkook barely manages to catch himself before tripping on his feet on the way out.
Once again, he’s very easy to fluster; noted.
Later, when Jimin is testing the ingredients for Yoongi’s headache-reducing potion, he pretends not to notice Jungkook staring—more like drooling—at him while he chews on his pen.
-
The rest of the week goes as smoothly as possible for Jimin. He—thankfully—doesn’t run into Jungkook again, not even for a second. He can't really say that he misses him, but every day since their encounter, he still finds himself checking the back room for him—just in case. Jungkook's never there, but it's like his presence still lingers. It's that eerie feeling Jimin felt when studying the possibly cursed doll…before he nearly had a heart attack at seeing his coworker behind him. It feels almost like he's being watched. He tries to push the thought to the back of his mind, and it works for the most part, but every now and then, all the hairs on his arms will stand on end and his heart will race…over nothing.
Counting his blessings, he's at least glad that after their unfortunate run-in, and consequent hours of barely-amicable cooperation in desk-sharing, there didn’t seem to have been any pranks.
He does feel a lot more lonely than he’s willing to admit just working on his own, though, especially when the creepy vibes invade him. The front desk, the one glass-cased and with the pretty antique register on it, sits pristine and clean to his side, and the desk he uses to work is just as clean. Someone must have stored back all the candles he’d lit that day—and may have forgotten to put them away. He hopes that’s also the case for the jar-doll because ever since then, it was nowhere to be found.
So, as it just so happens, Jimin has no distraction or excuse not to fact-check the gathering reports from Jungkook’s team. Earlier in the week, Yong-sun, Jungkook’s supervisor, had sent him a cute message bombarded with emojis asking if he could proofread and give some feedback on the writing of her team, and as much as he didn’t want to have any kind of interaction with Jungkook past the necessary, he immediately replied, “I would love to 🥰.” She told him there was no rush, that the project was no priority and that he could take the whole week if he wanted, so… He did exactly that. It’s not his fault that it just so happened to take that long because he decided to ignore the one Jungkook wrote, for obvious reasons. He couldn’t avoid it forever, but he kind of felt entitled to check it last and be the most critical of it he possibly could.
"Last" ends up being exactly at the end of the week, at the last possible moment. He decides to start his Friday with it for ultimate grumpiness.
“Magical mushroom gathering,” he reads out loud. He can’t hold back his snort. “I said that as a joke, I can’t believe…”
Jimin did find the reports interesting—not counting Jungkook’s, of course—and he’s not going to lie, he kind of loves it when these gatherings end up in those pretty little books with detailed drawings of every item captured. They’re always so pretty and informative, especially for someone so new to this world. But no amount of quirky, “Surprisingly, these will not get you high,” comments, along with his natural interest, could make any of those a captivating enough read so early in the morning.
And especially after reading so many… He's primed and ready to be insufferable to Jungkook. That's what he gets for being both stupidly attractive and also extremely annoying.
-
Maybe karma truly is a bitch, as they say, lovingly .
In retrospect, Jimin can admit that maybe nitpicking everything Jungkook wrote just to be petty wasn't his brightest moment, but how was he supposed to know that he would file a complaint to HR? He was expecting Jungkook's initial response, which was short and to the point: "This is so homophobic of you." It made him chuckle before he caught himself because no, it was not funny.
And now he's just pouting, playing with the rings on his fingers while Yoongi (the HR department, of course) scolds him like a child.
"I just don't understand why you two can't get along. You literally both managed to find the intersection of acting like you're five and also forty at all once," Yoongi continues.
Jimin wants to tune him out so badly, but it's almost as if he literally…can't… Oh.
"Did you put a spell on me so I would listen?"
"Jimin, I've known you for years, I knew as soon as you saw my face you would stop listening."
Jimin grumbles. "That's not fair."
"No, you know what's not fair? That I have to come here and tell you to be nicer to the new kid because you decided he's your mortal enemy just because you ruined your favorite pants sitting on his cupcake."
"That's not all he's—"
Yoongi raises his finger and shakes it no. "Ah ah ah. I do not want to hear this." He sighs. "Come on. Aren't we both too old for this?"
And suddenly this isn't some funny quirky moment anymore. Suddenly Jimin feels hot all over, like he's burning up from head to toe. He tries to hide it, especially the tears in his eyes welling up involuntarily, but he knows by Yoongi's silence that he must have picked up on it.
It makes him feel so angry with himself. And it’s because this shame should’ve been expected. It’s because he agrees. But neither his brain nor his body have caught up to the last three years yet, so it’s as if he’s tired in every imaginable way, far too much to fully comprehend on the spot why this hurts so deeply. It was fun to fight with the faceless nerd that would leave him a note saying, “You suck.” Or opening the lid of the laptop he’d forgotten the day before to find a very detailed drawing of a hand flipping him off. It was fun to focus on him, to think he was the worst thing possible on earth at the time. It was fun to forget what was really going on outside of their little desk rivalry.
Jimin counts three whole seconds before he feels a comforting pat on his head, messing it up completely. He really hopes Yoongi doesn't catch on to him wiping a tear as he does that.
"I know things have been rough, and I know you're just messing around, but…give him a chance, yeah?"
"A chance to what?" Jimin mumbles.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Please, there is no way you haven't picked up on it. The guy really likes you. It's borderline annoying."
"No, he doesn't."
Yoongi drags his hands down his face like his skin is just a mask. It's both a little funny and kind of scary given that Yoongi could probably pull off that illusion if he wanted to.
It's exactly why Jimin lets out a little gasp once Yoongi stops and stares at him so intensely he's afraid he's being cursed.
"Why did you even write those?"
"Huh?"
"The feedback on the mushroom gatherings."
"Oh, um…" He clears his throat. "I didn't really have much else to do…?" The mere sight of Yoongi’s raised eyebrow and his impatiently tapping foot tells him that is not enough. So he just rushes to add, "Yong-sun-ssi asked me to check them out to make sure they were okay."
Yoongi hums. Just. Hums.
It gets Jimin sweating.
"I swear that's it! None of them are writers and I'm a good editor!" He nervously says.
"Okay," Yoongi immediately replies. His expression is blank. An unreadable man. It makes Jimin want to scream.
Like that cliché of a person that puts on white gloves and wipes their index fingers over every surface looking for dirt, Yoongi looks around, as disinterested as ever while Jimin struggles to keep his cool on his seat. They’re both behind the front desk, and just seeing both of their reflections on the glass makes Jimin feel even more uneasy like, at any moment, they could move independently of their real selves.
He’s starting to feel a little cold, just as when…
“Jimin.”
“Huh?” Jimin jumps. “Did you say something?”
“Yes, I was talking to you, and you zoned out.”
“Oh.”
Yoongi narrows his eyes at him like he can see right through him, but before Jimin can nervously blurt anything out to stop whatever thoughts his boss can read, Yoongi speaks again.
“I think we’re done for now. Please be mindful.”
“Okay.”
With one last glance, Yoongi nods his head, like he’s just confirmed his theory or something. At the very least, he doesn’t look mad, just tired. It’s one of those moments where Jimin feels like they’re the same person in different fonts. It’s not like they’re really that similar most of the time—Yoongi’s far more introverted than he’s ever been—but the all-encompassing exhaustion… Oh, that’s shared.
“Please, remember not to miss the company dinner next month, yeah? At least play nice there.”
Jimin opens his mouth to protest, to defend himself, anything , but Yoongi’s already out the door before he can even decide.
-
The next week finds Jimin freezing his mind off in the office. He doesn't know why it's so unbearably cold, but he decides to brave the desk in the storage room just to get that concentrated heat because he cannot stand being anywhere near the main entrance.
It's much nicer here, and he actually manages to make a pretty decent tea to warm himself up. His magic is still not incredible, but he's been practicing this one, and he can’t help but clap for himself when a single sip helps him regain feeling in his fingers and toes.
As luck would have it though, karma strikes in threes—or something like that.
Jungkook enters the office the instant he feels good about himself. Bursting through the back door like he's a gift to mankind when he shouldn't even be there . Once again, they're “accidentally” at the office at the same time—Jimin’s not so sure this time is a coincidence, though. And as if his presence weren't enough, the first thing Jungkook does when he spots him is laugh.
Jimin's been practicing his patience ever since his conversation with Yoongi, but he can't hold back his reflex: “Why in the world are you laughing?”
Jungkook grins, like a cartoon villain before his monologue—well, at least, that's how Jimin sees him. As if that weren't enough, then Jungkook opens his arms wide as if he were about to give someone a hug, and then he says, "I got the last laugh."
Jimin merely crosses his arms and waits. He knows he doesn't have to say a word for Jungkook to elaborate, but he has a really bad feeling about this.
Walking a little closer, Jungkook struggles a bit not to break eye contact. Jimin wonders how deadly his gaze is given the reaction. Good .
"I told Yoongi-ssi about how much your comments hurt me," he says with far too much flair. He pats his chest twice, as if he actually believes what he's saying, but his expression betrays him; he’s a terrible actor. He's still smiling. And as if that weren’t enough of a given, he keeps on giggling like it’s the most fun prank in the world.
“I wish I could’ve seen your face!” He adds, wiping what seems to be an inexistent tear.
Jimin doesn’t even give him an inch of a smile.
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t actually hurt your feelings, then,” he responds, monotone.
Jungkook’s mood immediately catapults itself to hell. “Huh?”
Jimin sighs. “Oh, Jungkook, Jungkook… You know what? I figured you were messing with me, but I think this was good, despite your worst intentions. I really needed that wake-up call from Yoongi. I have been acting like I’m a child around you, and it’s just embarrassing.” He shakes his head. “I’m not your boss, but I’m still older than you, I should’ve known better.”
“Wh… You’re barely older than me!”
“Not the point. The point is that I’m not going to provoke you anymore, and I hope you’ll respect me and follow suit.”
Jungkook deflates like a sad, little balloon.
He pouts all the way to the desk. He’s not sure why he kind of feels like crying now too. He wonders if Yoongi made Jimin cry. Maybe this is just some elaborate revenge plan , he thinks. But as he looks at Jimin on the other side of the desk, he starts to believe this is not an act. Jimin is as serious as he’s ever seen him, and to be quite honest, it’s an intimidating sight.
He doesn’t even know why he came here. He shouldn’t have. He was supposed to be working from home today, but he knew Jimin would be here and he wanted to boast. Was that really all there was to it?
Once again, Jimin sighs, though this time, he sounds so genuinely exhausted that it makes Jungkook cringe.
“Could you stop staring at me, please, and get back to work?”
Jungkook licks his lips—why are they suddenly so dry —to buy himself some time to say a singular witty thing back, but it seems his inspiration is just as dry as his skin during this horrible autumn cold.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, instead. He can feel himself pouting as he tries to force himself to focus on his screen, but he can’t do anything to stop it.
“Jungkook.”
“I said—” he yells out without realizing it. He barely manages to cover his mouth by the time their eyes meet and cold sweat runs down his spine.
Strangely enough, Jimin doesn’t look angry. But he gulps audibly, and before Jungkook has any time to process what’s happening, Jimin is off his chair and standing by his side.
“I know we started off on the wrong foot,” Jimin says. “But I’d rather not have a repeat of what happened last time we worked here together, so—”
“Jimin,” Jungkook interrupts. He sees Jimin clench his jaw, and he knows he must be pissed that he cut him off, but he just had to. “I had fun, okay?”
Jimin takes a step back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… At first I was a little confused, you know? That one morning I came in and saw that whole handwritten letter you’d left me? Really made me think you were for real like forty at least… And all ‘cuz of the cupcake I left on the chair?” He snorts just thinking about it. “I didn’t mean to, but… You were very fun to mess with.”
Jimin narrows his eyes at him, crossing his arms like he’s holding back from punching him in the face.
“But!” Jungkook adds, suddenly unable to look up at Jimin anymore. “It was nice to just… you know? I knew what to expect from you.” He gulps. “Does this make any sense?”
Jimin relaxes a bit; he does get it. But the fact that he gets it also means that he does not want to acknowledge this with Jungkook at all. So, instead of any level of opening up, he just nods.
“Let’s just be civil now, yeah?” he asks, softly.
Jungkook nods without looking up, but it seems sincere enough for him to let it go.
-
Their little truce lasts all of one week—five days to be exact. Because when Jimin walks into the office and spots Jungkook already sitting in his chair, he feels like pulling his hair out. He knows they’re not meant to be there at the same time; he’d checked in with Yoongi after the backroom debacle. Jungkook probably doesn’t realize that he’s not being that sleek.
But Jimin is just too tired for this. So, he closes the door behind himself, gets his coat off and his slippers on and makes his way to the desk. He mumbles something akin to “morn,” and receives an equally unengaged nod.
Three hours pass. He feels like a zombie the entire time, but his autopilot brain gets him through the more mundane stuff. He’s in the middle of sending Yoongi their updated inventory when he hears a huff. Then, someone blows a raspberry.
He looks to the side of his screen and sees Jungkook staring directly at him.
“Pay attention to me,” he mumbles. And Jimin chokes on air.
“Wow,” is all he can get out. After a lot of blinking and barely breaking eye contact, he shakes his head and decides, Nope, not gonna deal with that now .
Under his breath, he says, “Yoongi was right, I guess.”
“About what?” Jungkook asks, at a decent volume this time.
“Nevermind.” With that, he decides to ignore Jungkook completely, turning back to his screen. He sends Yoongi the list, and then…
Actual magic stuff, huh?
The list of tasks he’d written for himself today… Most of what he has left to do are things he’s not fully familiar with yet. Yoongi has helped him, taught him some magic, but he’s no teacher, and Jimin promised he’s a fast learner and would get this on his own.
He’s not so sure about that now. He couldn’t even feel that cursed doll’s energy when it was in front of him, for goodness’ sake! He can work with herbs and infuse some magic into his tea… He can keep himself dry from the rain… He can make tiny little fires if he’s ready to suffer the migraine that comes to him hours later, but… That’s it. And those are all luck, he thinks. Sometimes he can’t do any of those either; sometimes the tea makes him sick, the umbrella actually works the other way around and he gets drenched, or he gives himself a horrible headache but no fire.
He feels the urge to look at Jungkook just to wonder how he’s supposedly so much better that he can go around meeting magical beings and frolicking in the woods, but he fears Jungkook might already be looking, and he’s not ready for that now.
Carefully, he reads, “Spell to lift a curse from an object.” Simple enough . “These are small enchantments by other witches, not demon possession. Feeling out the difference should come second nature.” Okay, sure . “In order to do this, you need…”
When the instructions start to get overly specific… he’s lost. Well, no, that's a lie. He was already lost to begin with. He's supposed to understand this so clearly that he can explain it himself, but he has no idea how to do this. He bites down on his lip, pulling on his skin like he knows he shouldn't. Fuck, this is too hard! And what do the mushrooms they gathered have to do with this? he wonders.
"Need help?"
Jungkook's voice makes him jump. For a moment, he'd forgotten he was there.
"Ah, I—"
"Before you say no… Wouldn't it be more professional if we helped each other with work?" Jungkook asks, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis.
Jimin wants to argue, but he's right . So he slumps in his chair like his body is melting and whispers, "Help me, please?"
And Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes crinkle and his teeth… Oh, he's so cute, a whole bunny .
Jimin has to force himself to look away just so he won't smile back.
But as it turns out, he ends up smiling anyway because Jungkook is good . So good, in fact, that Jimin would even be willing to admit that out loud (he doesn’t, actually, but he would if asked).
Jungkook had scooted his chair closer to Jimin and after one single read of Yoongi’s minimal explanation, he was on it. He asked for Jimin’s notepad (which immediately reminded him of the letter again), and then he started drawing as he explained. From the shape of the mushrooms to the cursed doll, it was impressive how well he could draw it all. And Jimin could finally get a grasp of what “feeling it out” meant. The sensation each curse can give off if one focuses… The way those mushrooms can be sensed through smell, like dirt that has just been dug into. He didn’t even know cutting specific parts of the mushroom and the amount of mixing could factor into the curse.
So now, he’s just in awe.
“How are you so good at this?”
Jungkook scratches his nose, bashful as he looks down at the pencil in his hand.
“I’m not so good with words,” he says, “but I thought some images could help.”
“They did! Well, do.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
Jimin’s gaze still lingers on the drawing; he wonders if Jungkook has any part in working on those drawn books he likes so much from them. He should probably know, but… Maybe he’s been a bit too petty when it comes to him to actually have that knowledge.
“A-actually,” Jungkook starts, stuttering a bit. “I was in school for design before I found out I was a witch so… There’s that.”
“And you dropped out?” Jimin looks down at the drawing and then back up at Jungkook. “Why?”
“Um…” Jungkook clears his throat. “I think it was just the safer choice?”
Now that makes no sense to Jimin, and he says as much. He takes Jungkook’s awkward chuckle in response with just as much confusion.
“How is being a full-time witch safer?”
Jungkook clears his throat.
“I didn’t mean financially, I meant… physically.” At Jimin’s raised eyebrow, he continues, “It was during exam week. Honestly, I wasn’t far from graduation, I mean, I’m twenty-four, I’m not actually lazy, you know?” He gives Jimin a once-over and receives an apologetic smile in turn. “Anyway, I was super stressed, like out-of-this-world levels. And I…cursed myself.”
“What?”
“I went to bed, and the next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, a whole four days later.”
“You what?!”
Jungkook nods to himself, thinking back on it all. “I don’t know how it happened, but I was supposed to meet up with Namjoon-hyung for lunch one day that week, and… When I didn’t show up, he asked around. He couldn’t reach my phone or anything. Nobody had seen me in days… So he broke into my room and found me there. Borderline dead from dehydration.” He gulps. “I can’t remember much from around that time. I am glad I didn’t die, though.”
Silence lingers after that, Jungkook quietly scribbles random shapes on the corners of the paper while Jimin takes the whole thing in. He can’t even imagine being in that position.
“I didn’t even know I was a witch, but Namjoon-hyung is too, and I guess he could sense what I’d done to my body,” he continues, so softly that Jimin has to lean in closer to listen. “He made me promise I would learn more about it so I could be safe on my own. He didn’t ask me to drop out, but I was too scared to finish. I didn’t know if I’d be as lucky again.” His scribbling stops. “So I looked for courses and books, anything I could get my hands on, and for years that’s all I did. I only found Yoongi-ssi because Namjoon-hyung told me about him.” He shakes his head. “I guess it would be kinda hard if he didn’t given that they’re dating now.”
Jimin vaguely remembers Namjoon, he thinks he’s the incredibly handsome, soft-spoken, tall, and kind man that usually comes around on Monday mornings to drop off fruits, herbs, or whatever other greenery Yoongi requested at the time. They’ve never really spoken that much, but he’s always been respectful. To be honest, the only reason he also knows that he and Yoongi are dating is that one of those days, he’d mentioned “Yoongi, my boyfriend.” It was kind of adorable, honestly.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook quickly adds, and it interrupts all train of thought Jimin had.
“For what?”
“You didn’t ask for my depressing backstory, and—”
Jimin aggressively shakes his head and Jungkook stops.
“No, actually…” He takes a deep breath. “Thank you.”
Jungkook stares at him like he’s grown a third head, so Jimin elaborates, “Thank you for sharing that with me. It couldn’t have been easy. So thank you.” It’s hard to get that out, he feels like his tongue is made of lead, but when he sees the way Jungkook’s eyes shine… He’s really glad he managed to say it.
All Jungkook manages in response is a shy nod, but the air feels a lot lighter, like something’s finally clicked between them.
Neither of them notices that the room is no longer freezing cold.
-
Time is a fickle thing. One moment, they were hate-flirting in front of a possibly cursed doll, and now… Jimin and Jungkook walk side by side as they enter the Korean barbeque place Yoongi had reserved for their company dinner.
Restrictions are still in place, so not everyone could go, but after such a soul-sucking time of solitude, it feels weird to be around more than two people at a time. That’s exactly what Jimin says when he walks into the room and greets everyone. He feels really awkward, way too shy, but Yoongi gives him a harsh slap on the back that takes his breath away and he can’t really focus on that anymore.
Namjoon is there too, as is Kim Taehyung—the only one Jimin really talks to outside of work—and then there’s Jungkook’s supervisor, Yong-sun, and a few people he’s never really met before even though he’s read their names: Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Son Seungwan, and Moon Byulyi. He’s a little sad he doesn’t get to meet everyone else, but he’s already a little overwhelmed as it is.
That is no longer the case by the time food arrives, though. He finds himself hysterically laughing at Seokjin’s out-of-pocket jokes before he even has a drop of alcohol, and when he and Byulyi high-five from across the table after Namjoon hits his knee, Jimin thinks he’s actually going to lose his mind with these people.
In fact, he’s animatedly having a conversation with Taehyung and Hoseok about the quality of the meat when his eyes catch the person to his left from his peripherals. Jungkook sits there, eating just as much as everyone else, but more or less mute. Both Jimin and Taehyung had handed him food when it arrived, but he can’t really think of him saying any words past “hi,” “please,” and “thank you” the entire night.
So Jimin leans back in his chair to avoid cutting him off so much and turns to him. Jungkook looks like a deer in the headlights, meeting his gaze almost immediately, but Jimin is determined to make him feel included. Maybe food wasn’t his in, but…
“Want some soju?” he asks him.
Jungkook nods, and like a uni-mind, the entire table roars with agreement.
It only really takes Jungkook one bottle before he’s standing up and imitating Yoongi like this is a whole comedy routine. Jimin can barely breathe, he’s laughing so much, and that seems to encourage Jungkook even more past Yoongi’s endeared headshakes.
At one point, Jimin brings up the one thing that’s been in the back of his mind since his first encounter with Jungkook. The one thing that continues to bother him after all this time. He does it to continue Yoongi’s roasting session, but the reaction from him is a little odd.
“And what’s up with that ‘cursed doll’ or whatever? One of the first days I’m back at the office and suddenly I’m in Annabelle? And why hide it after, hyung?!” he blurts out.
Yoongi looks confused out of his mind, and he even mumbles, “Cursed doll?” But Jimin is so high on giddiness that he completely misses it. Jungkook, on the other hand, feels goosebumps all over his skin.
Things get a little blurry after that. More bottles, more meat, more side dishes. Jimin hangs off Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook throws Taehyung a balled-up napkin that lands on Yong-sun’s glass. She tries to get it out, but she’s so dizzy by that point that she drops most of the liquid on Hoseok’s lap, who was so out of it that he accidentally elbows Seungwan trying to escape the liquid. The drunk chain of events leads to them all laughing entirely too much as Yoongi tells them grumbling to clean it up before the owners ban them for life.
-
They don’t see each other for a while after that dinner. It seems they actually do have different schedules to adhere to. But Jimin does practice his magic a lot more, and to much surprise to his past self, he does message Jungkook when he’s unsure about things. It’s actually nice talking to him. He kind of wishes he knew his schedule so he, too, could accidentally show up during his hours, but he holds back. He knows he’d never hear the end of it if he asked Yoongi for it.
For now, at least, he’s content with this.
It’s nice to have a new friend.