Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Welcome back after the commercial break, here on Radio Star. With us today, we have a famous guest. Roll of drums!"

From the mixing board, the producer complies. The host joins in the sound and happily drums her fingers on the table. She says, after a pause of suspense:

"Jung Hoseok!" 

A registered applause follows and simmers down as she continues: 

“Unless you live on the moon, you must have heard this name: Jung Hoseok! Or The Love Mage, Hope for the Heartbroken, and, I read here, the most powerful seer of our generation. Is Wikipedia right or is everyone exaggerating?”

“I think Wikipedia might have exaggerated a little,” Hoseok replies, leaning down to speak at the microphone. 

The radio host looks at her notes and picks up a news article. 

“You have an extremely high success rate, though. 95%, according to the latest poll on your website. This means that of all the people you helped through your agency, almost everyone is happy with the outcome of your visions. How do you do it?”

“Magic,” Hoseok shrugs with a charming smile. The host laughs with a hand covering her mouth.  

“Of course! You’re here today to talk about your new column in the newspaper The Chosun Ilbo called Letters to Cupid where people can ask you for bits of advice about their love lives. How is it going?”

“Pretty well, I would say,” Hoseok answers. “For now it’s only a weekly appointment, on the Friday edition. But we are getting wonderful feedback, so we are thinking of making it a biweekly column. It’s still under consideration.”

They chat some more and answer a couple of messages from the audience. During a music break, the host asks for an autograph and holds his hand on both of hers, bowing deeply. The radio interview doesn’t last long after that. Hoseok leaves with his manager and best friend Jimin on his toes. 

“It went well,” Jimin comments as they climb into the car. He drives through the packed streets of midday Seoul. He keeps glancing at Hoseok, obviously dying to say something more. 

“Are you going to be ok at the Tinder gig?” he finally surrenders after a few minutes. 

“Of course! You worry too much. I rested all day yesterday. I’m wonderful!” Hoseok cheerfully answers.

Jimin scowls but doesn’t comment further. They stop briefly at the office so that Hoseok can change into his fresh-tailored dark blue suit. After that, it's immediately time for Jotun Palace. 

He tells Jimin, as they walk through the entrance door of the hotel:

“Come on, Jiminnie. Don’t make that grumpy face, we are here to celebrate love!”

He reaches over to lightly pinch him on the cheek, a gesture that manages to melt away the hard expression on Jimin’s face. 

“Fine,” the man says, relaxing. “But let me know if anything happens.”

“Of course.” Hoseok coos and pats Jimin on the cheek once more before letting him go. 

Hoseok enjoys crowds and parties, so he's the right fit for the speed dating event sponsored by Tinder. It’s a swirl of people in fancy dresses and glasses of wine that have ten minutes to make an impression. At the end of every round, the couple can choose to talk more or change partners. 

Hoseok makes his speech on the stage for the joyous crowd, a flute of champagne in the air to toast the possible futures, and accompanies a cute MC in a bubblegum pink dress through the crowd. Her name is Violet. She has a microphone and her questions and comments get broadcasted on the speakers.  

At one point, they approach a middle-aged pair. He’s well dressed and groomed, hair grey at the temples. She has sweet eyes and a small handbag. Hoseok sighs happily, sudden visions of homemade kimchi and coffee dates. The smell of sea salt on a summer holiday. This is a good one, he knows. 

He makes a gesture at them. Violet sees it and brightens up.

“Oooh, hello!” she greets the couple, walking closer. “How are you? Are you enjoying yourselves?”

“Yes,” the man says, speaking on the microphone. He gives a short, shy glimpse at the woman. She looks back at him from under her eyelashes. 

“Great! Because we have good news for you! Jung-seonsaengnim pointed at you guys! And you know what that means! Ding ding ding! You are one of the lucky couples Jung-seonsaengnim sees a lovely future for! You can now decide if you would prefer to stay or have a private talk at the bar. Drinks are on us!”

Violet hands the microphone to the woman, who curls her spine in itself like she wants to disappear. She still says, low voice streaming on the speakers:

“I would love a drink…”

“Me too,” Hoseok hears the man promptly replying.

Violet claps happily, as most of the people around them do too. 

The couple relocates. Violet speaks again:

“They were lucky Jung-seonsaengnim caught them, but don’t be afraid if our master of love doesn’t point at you! It doesn’t mean you are not a good fit! Love works in mysterious ways, as Jung-seonsaengnim reminded us earlier. Let it flow!”

She walks again, moving smoothly between people. 

It shouldn’t happen because Hoseok has barely used any magic at all, and yet, he takes a step to follow her and suddenly feels something wet running down his nose. He touches it and when he looks down at his fingers he sees blood. Oh, not again. 

A young man notices first. He asks if Hoseok is ok, the voice arriving muffled to Hoseok’s ears. Hoseok doesn’t answer because the room spins a bit and his head feels heavy. Someone grabs him by the elbow and the crowd separates like the Red Sea in front of Moses but it’s only Hoseok and an annoying nosebleed making their way out of the room. 

It’s Jimin, of course, who makes him sit on a chair at the bar and presses a handful of napkins against his face. Hoseok is disoriented but still knows the drill. He pinches the bridges of his nose, leans forward, and breathes with his mouth. 

“The paramedic is arriving,” another person says. He’s a guy from the small group of distressed staff members that are surrounding them. Hoseok knows Jimin answers them because he hears him speak. He can’t make out the words, though. 

When the paramedics arrive, they soon start looking even more distressed than the Tinder and hotel staff. Hoseok doesn’t make any sense, medically speaking. He’s full of magic, and thus he doesn’t have a normal heartbeat, blood pressure, or even pupils to gauge some information about his health. They suggest a hospital but no, thank you. 

Hoseok stands and sways only a little on his feet. He stopped bleeding a while ago, while everyone around him fretted. He takes the glass of water Jimin offers him, opens his mouth into a large smile, and convinces the small group it’s fine. He can continue. By now, Jimin knows Hoseok does whatever his mind sets him up to and doesn’t argue. The others lead him back to the party where the audience cheers for him. 

The night continues. Hoseok works and doesn't have any other accidents. 

**

It happened before and happens more after that. At least once a week, Hoseok's nose bleeds and he feels so dizzy he needs to sit. Hoseok thinks it’s a mere annoyance, Jimin and Taehyung freak out. Taehyung, his secretary at his marriage agency Cupid Secret, stages a mutiny and postpones all his appointments even though they have a waiting list of three months. Jimin spends all the time at the office either pacing like a caged animal or googling symptoms online. Which is, understandably, a horrible idea. 

“It says here you… you…” Taehyung’s lower lip trembles. He looks at the webpage again and then at Hoseok with wet eyes. “You could have a terminal illness! Brain cancer! You could die!”

Hoseok joins him and Jimin at his desk and glances down at the computer. He shakes his head.

“Oh no, my poor Tae!” he says, patting his head like he would with a dog. “I’m magic, remember? We don’t have the same illnesses as you. Don’t worry! I’m sure I’m just tired.”

Taehyung’s sniffs slow down. Jimin, however, is still glaring at Hoseok with a furrowed brow. 

“You should see a doctor,” he says. 

Hoseok smiles at him but doesn’t answer. He sits at his desk, pushing aside one leaf of his bird of paradise plant that has the bad habit of growing and tilting towards him. 

“We know you don’t trust doctors. So what, you’re just gonna have a nosebleed forever? What if it’s serious?” Jimin insists.

Hoseok tidies up his pens and notes, an excuse to avoid looking at his friend and busy his hands. His smile is smaller by now, but always present.

“It’s not serious.”

“You don’t know that.”

“We don’t get sick.”

“I’m aware of that!” Jimin exclaims. “That’s why this is strange! You’ve been healthy all our lives and now, suddenly, you bleed from your nose, you get dizzy, and can’t stand. It is concerning, stop pretending it isn’t.”

Hoseok raises his eyes to study him. Jimin is seriously worried and Taehyung has already gone through an entire box of tissues. 

Having magic sounds fancy, Hoseok thinks, but it's usually nothing more than a nice small bonus. Prediction of weather, sharp intuition, predisposition for languages, bigger muscular strength. With his rare insight into the future, Hoseok is an exception more than the norm. 

With magic, though, comes a long, healthy life and  that , more than anything, had been an interest to all sorts of characters, for centuries. There's nothing better than a small glimpse of immortality for humans to go batshit crazy.

Nowadays magical beings are mostly left alone. Magic is a protective power that doesn't make sense to science, and that doesn't like to be prodded. Many had to experience it on their skin to understand it, but in the end, the general opinion is that people are people and shouldn't be experimented on. 

The end. 

The end? 

Well, not really. Hoseok has heard a few bad experiences with people and doctors especially to know reality is not as good as people would like it to be. And  doctors …   their position of authority over patients usually made matters even worse.  

He’s wondering about how to tell them the truth while pacifying his friends’ concerns when Taehyung sniffs one last time and says:

“My roommate has a friend who is magic. Maybe we could ask him? For an opinion? He could know someone?”

He seems so hopeful that Hoseok doesn’t want to refuse. He shrugs and says:

“Sure, why not?”

**

They meet with Seokjin and Jungkook in a coffee shop the next Sunday afternoon. Seokjin, the magical one, doesn’t even let them speak before doing a head-to-toe check of Hoseok with his eyes. He raises one eyebrow at him.

“You look horrible, dear,” he says. “You  feel  horrible. What are you doing?”

Jungkook, Taehyung’s roommate, brushes a hand down his face. 

“I’m sorry. He’s very straightforward. I’m Jeon Jungkook, by the way. And this is Kim Seokjin.”

A waiter arrives and they order drinks.

“So, what’s your story?” Seokjin presses immediately after. 

They are sitting side to side and it’s not hard to notice Seokjin is frighteningly handsome. It would be intimidating but Hoseok chooses to lean on the table and rests his chin on the palm of his hand, observing the man with an interested smile.

“I’m a seer,” he says. “What about you?”

“Aaah.” Seokjin mimics his position and gets closer, eyes sparkling and lips curled up. “Is it normal for you to feel like a tangled mess of Christmas lights? Your energy is all wrong, dear. I’m a model, by the way. My magic is pretty useless. I have a general sense of people’s emotions, and nothing much. But you won the lottery! A seer! Must be interesting to have a private preview of everyone's life!”

The waiter comes back with the drinks. Hoseok sips his iced cappuccino before answering:

“I don’t see everything. And what I see, it’s mostly love-related.”

Seokjin hums.

“I wonder. How is your conception of life and fate, then? Do you only see one possibility? Is our love life set in stone, already planned by some obscure, higher entity?”

“I see potential outcomes.” Hoseok mixes his drink with the straw, ice clicking against the glass. “Life is a vast supermarket where you get to pick what to put in your shopping cart. I see the products, sometimes, and have the special intuition to know which one you’d like the most.”

Seokjin straightens his back, a giant smile on his face.

“Isn’t that precious?” 

He looks around their table where the others are witnessing their exchange, head moving from one side to the other like they are watching a tennis match. 

Seokjin is not expecting an answer. He doesn’t wait for one and reaches over to wrap long fingers around Hoseok’s wrist. 

“Your eyes change color when you talk about your magic. Is it normal? They become a pretty shade of pale blue.”

“It’s normal,” Hoseok replies. “Or at least, it has always happened when I use it.”

“Are you using it now? I can't tell.”

Hoseok makes an affirmative sound. His magic turns on when it wants to. This time, it shows something about Seokjin that sends shivers down Hoseok’s spine. He fights off a blush from his face and presses his lips together when Seokjin asks:

“What do you see?” 

Telling the man wouldn’t make a difference, Hoseok sees. The genuine awe in Seokjin’s eyes is endearing, though. Pity that it soon turns into shock when Hoseok feels the now familiar tightening circle around his head. He knows his nose starts bleeding because red spots start dripping on the wooden table. 

“Fuck,” Jimin says. “Here, take the napkins!”

Hoseok blindly grabs them. Seokjin still has a hold on his wrist and it’s the only thing anchoring Hoseok to the present, black slowly filling his vision. 

“That was what I was referring to, dear.” Seokjin gently presses the tissues to his nose. “You are all wrong. What are you doing?”

Hoseok can’t answer. He feels too sick.

“We should call the hospital!” Taehyung says.

“It would be useless,” Seokjin replies. “But I may know of a private clinic. It’s fairly new but an acquaintance works there. It seems like a respectable place. They’re magic, like us!”

Well, that might change everything , Hoseok thinks. 

So that’s how, a few days later, Hoseok finds himself led to a white building in Jongno. The sixth floor opens to a generic-looking clinic - modern, calming, and clean. Even the seaside and mountain paintings are boring. Hoseok is skeptical but Taehyung and Jimin insist on coming with him and seeing him at the door. Afraid, maybe, he would run away. 

“We’ll wait for you at the park,” they say. Jimin looks homicidal like he dares Hoseok not to go. Taehyung seems worried but positive. 

Hoseok smiles and waves at them as they leave. 

The front desk nurse asks him to fill out a registration form and tells him to settle down in the waiting area, where a young boy with his mother is going through a book. Not even five minutes later the mother with her child are called by the nurse and escorted to a separate room down the hall. Hoseok either scrolls TikTok on his phone or stares at the painting in front of him, legs jumping up and down in smothered anxiety.  

When the nurse finally calls his name, Hoseok springs to his feet. He follows her. The examination room is different from what he expected. The orange curtains framing the windows, the carpet, and the velvet armchairs belong more to a psychotherapist studio than a general medicine one. A lamp is casting a soft glow on the walls, even though outside it’s still a bright sunny day.

There’s also a desk with a computer and behind it a man with glasses and a small smile on his face. 

“Jung Hoseok? Please sit.”

Hoseok hesitates for a split second between the normal plastic chair at the desk and the armchair, and in the end, he opts for the latter. Because if he has to do this, at least he’ll do it comfortably. 

“I’m Doctor Kim,” the man continues, with his hands folded in front of him. “I was reading through your file. It says you have been experiencing dizziness, headaches, epistaxis, and fatigue for a few weeks. Any other symptoms? Insomnia, weakness in the limbs, for example?” 

Hoseok shakes his head. 

“No. I sleep well. I only get disoriented and weak when my head hurts and my nose bleeds.”

Kim hums, and writes something on the computer. The glasses reflect the blue light of the screen. 

“How is your blood pressure? Do normal measurements apply to you?”

“Not really. My levels would make a non-magic doctor die of a heart attack.”

“That high, eh?” Kim says, eyes curling in half-moons. He ends typing and stands up. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

Hoseok nods. While Kim is tall and imposing, his expression is friendly when he settles on the armchair opposite Hoseok’s, sitting on the edge with his elbows resting on his knees. 

“You wrote on the form that you had previous negative experiences with doctors. You’ll be surprised to know you’re not the first to tell us the same. All personnel here are magical, so we get what you might have gone through. That’s why we want open communication and for our patients to understand every step of the diagnosis and treatment process. Do you have any questions so far?”

“No.” 

“Good.” Kim says, “I’ll explain what I’m going to do. Magic flows in our bodies, not so dissimilarly to blood. It reaches everywhere. As a standard procedure with a new patient, I’m now going to check a few strategic points that will tell me what is going on. These points include your forehead, the neck, the chest, and the upper back between your shoulder blades. I’ll also check the area around your navel, your wrists, knees, and ankles. You won’t need to undress and you won’t feel any discomfort. At most, you’ll sense warmth from my hands.”

“How will you know what’s wrong?” Hoseok asks. 

“To put it simply," Kim says, "it’s like submerging your hand in water. You’d feel the temperature, the currents. If it’s clean or viscose. If small objects are floating. Similarly, with our new understanding of magic, we are now able to sense the health of our patients by a simple tactile connection.”

“Do I need to do something? Should I stand up?”

“No, you can stay seated. If at any time and for any reason you feel uncomfortable, do tell me please.”

Hoseok rubs the sweaty palms of his hands on his jeans. 

“Sure,” he nods.

Kim moves forward. He touches the top of Hoseok’s brows and forehead. Hoseok feels the magic under the doctor’s fingers like a slow buzz on the skin. Thirty seconds later, Kim makes a noise in his throat, and with the same delicateness, he comes to cup Hoseok’s neck, thumb, and index finger brushing Hoseok’s jaw. 

It’s damn intimate, Kim forgot to say. They’re so close that Hoseok can hear his breathing. The doctor is not looking at him, gaze empty and focused inward, but Hoseok’s heart still speeds up. He does not appreciate the closeness and the way Kim’s big hands shift around on his body. 

When he feels the pressure of Kim's touch on his navel, Hoseok can’t handle it anymore. It feels too… too much. Too close. 

Hoseok pulls away. Kim blinks in surprise and Hoseok takes this chance to stand up and put the armchair between him and the other man. 

He clears his throat and laughs. It sounds a bit hysterical. 

“I was uncomfortable,” he says. 

Doctor Kim straightens up like electrocuted. 

“I’m deeply sorry…” he starts but Hoseok interrupts him.

“Oh no, please. It’s me, not you.” 

He grimaces when he hears it and rushes to explain himself:

“I mean, I told you I’m not a fan of doctors in general. I thought I could do… uhm, I could accept… but yeah! You asked for my permission and did nothing inappropriate.” 

Kim’s shocked expression turns to horrified. He seems to understand Hoseok’s words as exactly their opposite. 

“I’m deeply sorry…” he repeats, standing up but keeping his distance. Hoseok wants to dig a hole and disappear inside of it. He raises both hands to stop him again. 

"I'm fine. It's just way more physical than I'm ready to accept. You didn't do anything wrong. Your magic feels quite kind."

"Oh, thank you?" 

"Is there any way you can conduct your check-up without getting physically close?" Hoseok asks.  

Kim thinks about it. The glasses are sliding down on his nose when he replies: 

"It’s alright. We can take a pause. I have an initial guess on the root of the problem already, anyway. You see, your magic doesn’t flow as it should. It gets stuck, in a way, and creates multiple physical symptoms like headaches and nosebleeds.”

“Why?”

“It’s probably congenital.”

Hoseok blinks. 

“Ook. So what do I need to do? Take some medicine? Rest? Acupuncture? What?”

“No,” Kim replies. He moves to the desk, where he takes off his glasses and brushes a hand over his eyes. “What we would need it’s message therapy. Three to four times a week, for at least a couple of months, to start with. I call it a massage but it’s more similar to what I just did. I would give gentle pressure with my magic to the same key points as before, the forehead, etc., to encourage the natural flow of your energy. As your condition is probably congenital, after the first two months you would still have to have a… let’s call it a maintenance massage once in a while, to make sure the magic runs smoothly as it should. Depending on how well the first few sessions go, I’ll be able to understand if you’ll need an appointment once every six months or even a year.”

Hoseok smiles wider to cover the sudden spike of nerves. 

“There’s no alternative to this massage therapy?”

Doctor Kim looks at him. His eyes are soft and understanding. He sits down and folds his hand on the desk.

“I understand you would prefer not to be touched. Would a mild sedative help you relax?” 

“Nope. They don’t work on me.”

His hands are veiny, Hoseok notices. He’s a handsome man, all in all, and in other circumstances, Hoseok wouldn’t have minded getting under those hands. But Kim is a doctor, and the room where they are sitting looks cozy and relaxed but it’s still a medical studio.

“A nurse could assist, or a friend of yours could be present. Or both,” Kim is saying.

Nope again. Hoseok shakes his head.

“I’m sorry and please believe me when I say it’s nothing personal.” 

The doctor nods as he was expecting the answer. 

“Ok, then we have one last option. Do you perhaps have any friend who is magic?”

**

“Seokjin!” Taehyung exclaims.

Hoseok rubs his forehead. He’s home and cornered by Jimin and Taehyung. After the doctor’s appointment, the last thing he wanted was to be interrogated by his friends and so he opted to run away without saying anything and hiding in his apartment. Of course, the Inquisition didn’t take long to track him down. In less than an hour, Jimin and Taehyung rang the bell at his door. At least they brought dinner. 

“Seokjin is perfect!” Taehyung continues. "He's magic and he's nice."

"He's also a model with a busy life,” Hoseok argues. “I can’t ask him to drop everything to help me. Kim will have to teach him how to… how to massage me. And it’s three to four times a week! I can’t ask him!”

“I can!” Taehyung takes out his phone and holds it up in the air. “Or, I’ll ask Jungkook to ask him!”

“Do you know anyone else magic?” Jimin cuts in. Until this moment, he’s been sitting quietly on Hoseok’s couch, eating his Chinese take-out. “Because I remember no one from your family is, and there was barely one girl in high school you haven’t talked to in forever.”

Hoseok gives him his last spicy stir-fried chicken and avoids his eyes. Jimin takes it as a chance to go on with his light scolding. 

“We understand you don’t want this Kim or any doctor to touch you. But you need to take care of yourself and find a solution to your health problems.” 

“Seokjin is a nice person,” Taehyung says again. 

They both let the conversation sink into silence after that. They eat and watch a marathon of The Simpsons, with only a few comments on the show. Jimin and Taehyung are on their way out when Hoseok sighs and surrenders. 

“Fine, I’ll ask Seokjin.”

They immediately look relieved. Taehyung beams and hugs him tight. 

“Great!” he says. “Because I’ve already asked and he agreed.”

What?!

Hosoek makes to shove him away but Taehyung sticks to him like they’ve been glued together. 

“Don’t be mad. I love you! I did it for you! I don’t want you to die in a pool of your blood!”

Hoseok wants to get angry but he’s weak for cuteness and, in general, for Taheyung’s antics. He lets the man koala-hug him some more with only a low-volume grumbling. 

“You should have waited for my decision…”

“You’re right, I’m sorry!”

“It’s a sensitive matter for your hyung…”

“I know, I’m sorry!!”

Hoseok rolls his eyes and fights down a smile. Taehyung doesn’t even bother looking that contrite. His lips are curled up, showing his teeth. He even manages to steal a kiss on Hoseok’s cheek before Jimin forces him off Hoseok and out of the door. 

**

Through a message chain that involves Jungkook and Taehyung, Hoseok has Seokjin’s number in less than an hour. He forces himself into texting him. 

Hoseok had the impression that the man is a giant, sassy flirt but he shows another side through his texts. He doesn’t need anything explained since Taehyung already updated him, he's agreeable and seems genuinely concerned for Hoseok and eager to help. 

He also insists on meeting Hoseok at the doctor’s office the following afternoon. Hoseok believes there’s not that much of a hurry - mostly because he dreads the massage, Kim, and everything related to them - but he relents. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get out of this morning’s appointment, or I would have arrived earlier,” Seokjin says as soon as he sees Hoseok in the waiting room, the day after. He looks rushed but also like he just escaped the front page of a fashion magazine, with long legs in black jeans and styled hair. 

Hoseok waves a hand at him, shaking his head. He replies with something and he’s smiling as usual, but his throat is dry. He’s nervous as f. He wants to thank the man and apologize for the trouble, but the nurse calls for them and he doesn’t have the time. They relocate to Kim’s office. 

“Hello,” Kim greets, shaking hands with them. He lost his white coat and looks like a buff daddy in his green sweater. If it’s an attempt to put Hoseok more at ease, Hoseok appreciates the effort. “Please sit down.”

He gestures for Hoseok to use the armchair, while he remains standing with Seokjin. 

“It will be more or less as I told you on the phone,” Kim starts. 

“You talked before?” Hoseok interrupts immediately.

Seokjin glances at him and looks away with what seems a light blush, his attention focusing on the doctor.

“I wanted to know as much as possible before coming,” he says.

“Which was a great idea, now we can concentrate on the practical,” Kim says with a smile. “It’s easier to show you. After you get the gist of it, you can try it on me.” 

He gently moves his hands on Seokjin’s chakra points or whatever, going through a long explanation Hoseok soon ignores, not because of a lack of interest. He feels his heart thundering in his ears and it’s difficult to concentrate. The fact that Seokjin is the one who’ll give him the “massage” and not Kim is a small consolation. Hoseok hates to be here. 

After a few minutes, roles are reversed and it's Seokjin who tries to manipulate the doctor's magic. He must be equally handsome  and  smart because Kim looks surprised at how fast he’s picking up at it. Not even twenty minutes after they crossed the clinic’s door, Seokjin was ready to start. Bless him. 

They try standing first. It’s easier, or so the doctor says, and Seokjin doesn’t have to kneel in front of the armchair or something uncomfortable like that. Hoseok and Seokjin place themselves in front of the other, Kim on their side at arm's distance. 

“Alright. Let’s start with one wrist, a more neutral point. Nice and steady, as I showed you.” 

Seokjin glimpses at Hoseok, a little line between his eyebrows betraying his nervousness. 

“It’s fine,” Hoseok assures and, to show him, raises his arm and offers his right wrist. 

Seokjin’s fingers are warm when they touch him. His hand is bigger than Kim’s and softer. At first, Hoseok doesn’t feel anything unusual, just the touch of a man he finds particularly attractive. It then turns on like a switch, the foreign magic that suddenly pushes against his. 

Hoseok makes a choked nose. Seokjin looks at him in alarm. 

“It’s fine,” Hoseok repeats, not believing it fully. Seokjin does, though. He doesn’t let go, his cool magic a startling contrast to the warmth of his skin. 

It quickly builds up, hurting a little. If he had to describe it, Hoseok would say it’s like an animal coat being brushed from the wrong direction, but in his veins. His magic is resisting it. 

“It’s normal, it’s ok,” Kim murmurs, so as not to disturb them. He steps closer and seems ready to intervene. “Try to continue as long as you can.”

Easy for him to say. He’s not the one with an alien sensation forcing its way up his arm. Hoseok blinks and swallows a pained whine. He sees black spots in his vision and something wet runs down his face. 

He would have probably fallen on his ass if Seokjin hadn’t grabbed him by the waist to hold him flush against his chest, Hoseok’s wrist kept tight between their bodies.

"Should I stop?" Seokjin’s panicked voice reaches him.

The doctor’s face swims in Hoseok’s vision.

"Jung-sshi. I need to check on you by touching your forehead. It shouldn’t be painful. Could you give me your permission?"

Hoseok nods. The blood on his face and mouth is making it difficult to speak. He's probably staying on his feet only thanks to Seokjin. The man is way stronger than it seems. 

Kim’s hand comes and goes, and Hoseok barely notices. Compared to how Seokjin’s magic is inching its way into Hoseok’s veins, it feels like a feather on the skin.

"He's alright," Kim is saying. "Let's help him sit down. Please don’t stop suddenly. Let’s ease him out of it.”

Hoseok is dragged to sit on the plastic chair, Seokjin crouching and still holding him up. Hoseok’s head lolls back and he can feel himself slowly losing consciousness when Seokjin’s magic subsides and disappears. The clock ticks on the wall. Seokjin is cupping his face in his hands and talking to him. 

“Hoseok. Can you say something? You’re scaring me.”

Hoseok wets his lips, tasting blood. He opens and closes his eyes a couple of times, getting his bearings. When he thinks he’s got it, he sends a smile to Seokjin. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. 

Seokjin exhales loudly. 

“What for?”

“For your shirt. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Seokjin lets out another breath. He rises on his feet, his hands inevitably leaving Hoseok. 

“I don’t care. Don’t worry.”

Kim quickly takes Seokjin’s space in front of Hoseok. 

“Jung-sshi, I’m sorry but I need to run another quick check-up on you. You had a stronger reaction than I anticipated.”

Hoseok can’t avoid it so he stoically stares ahead while the doctor does his thing, going through the forehead, temples, neck, and chest, and fortunately stopping before it starts migrating south. Hoseok’s body shakes from the tension. 

“What’s the verdict?” he asks when the doctor moves away. 

Kim is scowling. It’s not a good sign. 

“It should have worked but it didn't. It’s not your fault, of course,” he quickly adds when he sees Seokjin’s face fall. “I have to do some more research and talk with my colleagues.” 

Hoseok straightens in the chair and bites down a sigh of his own. All that pain for nothing. 

“What didn’t work?” he asks, rubbing a hand under his nose and mouth and grimacing when it gets stained red. 

Doctor Kim presses his lips together in an unhappy expression. 

“I call it a massage for practicality, and the main concept is similar. Press on a tense knot until it relaxes and unties itself. But instead of bringing your magic to a more fluid state, Kim-sshi's magic exacerbated the original strain.”

“So it’s worse, now.”

“Yes,” the doctor replies. “However, I am confident we can find alternative therapies.”

Right. 

Kim talks some more but Hoseok can’t concentrate to save his life. He feels tired to his bones. The taste of blood in his mouth and its sight down his and Seokjin’s clothes make the scene even more dreadful. 

They agree on an appointment in a few days to keep Hoseok’s situation under control. Hoseok excuses himself to the bathroom to wash himself and then meets Seokjin at the elevator, out of the dreadful clinic. 

The man is like a silent Adonis statue. His shoulders, though, are curled forward. He looks pale and exhausted.

Hoseok studies him and then himself in the mirror in the elevator. When they arrive on the ground floor, he decides that only one thing can make the day slightly better. So he asks Seokjin:

“A drink?”

**

They start with soju shots because why not? It’s late enough in the afternoon, almost evening, and the bartender couldn’t care less. Their stomach and liver would complain if they were normal humans, but Hoseok has never suffered from hangovers and he’s surely not starting to mind his alcohol now. 

“To our ruined shirts,” he makes a toast. Seokjin cheers. 

They cling their glasses together and swallow their drink like it’s the cure to Hoseok’s health issues. They take two more shots, then decide to slow down, and order beers and fried chicken. They eat their way through half of the food before any of them has any wish to speak. 

“Aah,” Seokjin says, leaning back on the booth and patting his belly. “I needed that. I haven’t eaten fried chicken in forever.”

Hoseok eyes him. He could have guessed that. The man doesn’t have an ounce of fat.

“Only steamed broccoli and cod. When I feel generous, it’s a beef steak. That’s it. That’s my diet,” Seokjin continues. He takes one more chicken wing and bites it with gusto. “A boiled egg with avocado in the morning. A splash of milk in my Americano if I have a long working day.”

“That sounds like hell,” Hoseok comments. 

“It is, but I’m paying my bills thanks to this body. I have to treat it like a temple.”

Seokjin winks at him. Hoseok chuckles, his mood slowly lifting. The fat and salt are helping. The alcohol, too. He’s almost drunk. 

In this fuzzy state of mind, Seokjin’s presence is like an itch he needs to scratch. It’s difficult to reconcile the serious, caring man in the clinic with the boisterous flirty one he’s seeing now and saw before, the first time they met. Without any input, Hoseok’s magic keeps flaring up and he has a private view of a muscled naked back, expensive cotton bedsheets, and lazy Sunday mornings. 

When Seokjin notices, he wraps his fingers around the same wrist that had been tortured not long ago. 

“None of that, dear,” the man says, observing Hoseok’s eyes. “Didn’t you hear the doctor? No magical exertion until he finds an alternative cure.”

Hoseok shrugs.

“I can’t exactly control it.”

Instead of answering, Seokjin moves to wrap Hoseok’s shoulders with an arm and fills their glasses with more soju. He’s so warm, tall, and broad that Hoseok almost feels like disappearing in his body. 

“Did it hurt you?” Hoseok asks, after another shot and a short pause. 

Seokjin finishes a chicken leg and licks his fingers - it’s quite distracting. Only when he seems satisfied he picks up his beer and replies: 

“The massage stuff with the doctor? Not at all. It was pleasurable. Both ways, giving and receiving.”

He’s looking at Hoseok from over the brim of his glass with amused smiling eyes. Hoseok doesn't know if he should laugh or blush at the obvious innuendo. He ends up snorting and pouring another shot of soju for himself. 

"You're shameless," he says. And he kinda likes it. He imagines that with a face like his, the man gets away with much more than horrible jokes. 

Seokjin puts down his beer, leans his chin on the palm of his hand, and looks at Hoseok with the same intense, ridiculous attention. 

“I am. But can you fault me for flirting, even if so ungracefully? You’re one of a kind. No wonder everyone wants a piece of you. I googled you. Did you know you have fan clubs? Accounts on social media that follow every step of yours?”

Hoseok knows, of course. They started after that Vogue article on him and his picture in a shirtless suit. Some fans even book appointments at his agency just to take a glimpse of him and try their fortune. 

“Between your looks and your insightful bonus, you must have lovers queuing out of your door for a minute of your attention,” Seokjin continues without pause. He’s looking at Hoseok with his eyes half-closed, languid. A purring cat. 

Hoseok is used to people courting him, true, but few spark his interest as Seokjin does. He wonders if the man’s empathic ability is a major player here. He feels hot and lightheaded, but in a good way, and Seokjin reads him with practiced ease. 

“You would be one of my favorites,” Hoseok teases back. He plays with the collar of Seokjin’s shirt, tracing the hem with one fingertip. 

They’re sitting so close now Hoseok might as well sit on his lap and be done with it. Instead, Seokjin hugs him closer and murmurs with hot breath on his ear about all the things he would do if only Hoseok were so kind as to give him a chance. The list is long and it makes Hoseok quiver in expectation half through it. It doesn’t take much after that for a few bills to land on the table, and for Hoseok and Seokjin to move to a cab first and then to Seokjin’s apartment, the closest one. 

While Seokjin methodically undresses him, Hoseok recognizes the sighs he heard before in his visions, the pale cream color of the walls, and the perfume of fresh flowers. He has known of this moment but the anticipation is not ruining Seokjin’s fingers running over his naked skin. If anything, it’s like finally drinking the cold beer in your fridge on a summer day. Satisfying, freeing. 

Seokjin fits so well above him, weighing him down against the mattress. He kisses Hoseok like he also has waited long for this moment and can’t decide between taking his time and devouring Hoseok in one nice bite. 

It's no wonder Hoseok doesn’t notice in this mix of emotions. He’s enjoying being masterfully conquered too much to pay attention to the way his sight blurs a little and sharpens, his ears pop like on an airplane. His magic buzzes under his skin and he has to blink away thousands of dreams and visions similar to the one he’s currently living.

“What is this?” Hoseok murmurs between one kiss and the other. 

Seokjin stops and cups his face in his hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks in comfort. 

"What? Are you ok? Is this ok?" 

He pets Hoseok's hair up and away from his forehead. He's urgent and tender in a way that squeezes Hoseok's heart. 

The truth is that Hoseok has never felt like this. He's threading a fine little line between pleasure and overload. He doesn't want to stop but he has this thrum under his skin, against his bones. At the moment, he doesn’t connect it with Seokjin’s magic. It's too difficult to understand what it is when there's still too much alcohol in his veins, when Seokjin is inside and all over him, in his mind and his eyes. 

"Yes," he can only answer.

He wraps his legs around Seokjin’s waist and urges him to move. Seokjin groans in pleasure and complies. 

"Yes," Hoseok whispers again. 

And again. 

And again.

** 

He wakes up in the early morning drooling on Seokjin's pillows, the man snoring softly behind him, weighting on Hoseok’s back like a giant, breathing blanket. 

The first thing that Hoseok realizes is that he feels good. His head feels clear. A little light, a little sharp. It’s not a pain, just a sensation. 

He slowly frees himself from Seokjin to go to the bathroom. When he comes back to bed, Seokjin is awake, lying naked in white sheets, and waiting for him. He immediately pulls him down and to his chest. 

“Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?” Seokjin asks. 

He rolls them so that Hoseok’s back is against the mattress and settles between his legs, peppering his face and neck with kisses.

“Uhm, yes,” Hoseok replies, feeling blissed. He’s still tired, it’s not even seven yet, and wouldn’t mind a nap, but the mouth on him is starting to change his mind. He sinks a hand in Seokjin’s hair, and with the other, he intertwines their fingers together. Seokjin is following a long trail down his neck to his collarbones and, uhm, isn’t that nice. Sleepy morning sex is at the top of his favorite things to do.

Seokjin bites a tender spot. Hoseok hisses and tightens his hold on the man, curling his spine to get even closer to the other body. The back of his consciousness does register something then, starting from the palm of his hand. It's a warmth, a light pressure, a tingling. Hoseok doesn't mind it one bit. That's why he's taken by surprise when Seokjin suddenly breaks off from him and kneels on the bed in his naked glory, the duvet sliding off his shoulders. His eyes are wide open in shock. 

"What?" Hoseok asks, struggling to sit up. 

"Didn't you feel that?" Seokjin asks back. 

"No? What?"

Seokjin gestures at the space between the two of them. 

"I was… manipulating your magic through your hand. Like, the massage thing? I felt it. Didn't you?"

"Oh?"

Hoseok scratches the back of his neck. Now that he thinks of it, yes, he did. 

"It felt good, though?"

"I think it's supposed to feel good. With Kim, it did." Seokjin says. He climbs down the bed and starts dressing. "I think I did it last night too, while we were having sex. Fuck! I was too drunk to notice! We need to get you to the clinic. What if I made things worse? Fuck!"

He runs a hand through his hair and meets his eyes with Hoseok. He looks wild and exactly like someone who jumped from bed directly to yesterday's clothes. 

Hoseok stares at him for a second. Since it was all pleasant sensations and he feels ok, he can’t bring himself to worry. 

He stands and walks up to the man to hug him. Hugging an ironing board probably feels the same. The man is tense. 

"You didn't make it worse," he tells Seokjin with a bright, confident smile. "I'm sure. Now, how about we shower first? I also want to go home and change clothes, if you don’t mind."

He manages to drag the man around until he gets exactly that. It’s a little after eight when they step inside the clinic together. Doctor Kim is not in yet, but since it’s an emergency Seokjin’s acquaintance agrees to meet with them. He presents himself as Doctor Min; a short, serious-looking man who greets Seokjin with half a hug. He bows to Hoseok before he invites them to sit. 

His office is much sparser than Kim’s and looks more like a hospital. Hoseok fidgets in his chair and sweats a little at the temples while Seokjin tells the doctor what happened and Min browses his files. The man runs a quick check on Seokjin and finally takes Hoseok’s wrist to sense his magic.

He leans away again before he says:

"From what I read from Kim’s writings, I expected much worse. I’ll go out on a limb and say your magic feels improved.” 

Seokjin blinks at him. 

“Improved?”

“Yes. There’s less obstruction in the chest area. Do you feel any different than before?” Min addresses Hoseok, who shrugs:

“I feel well.”

Min considers them. 

“I see no reason to be worried,” he affirms at the end. “Nor a reason for you to avoid sexual intimacy. Seokjin hyung’s magic doesn’t appear changed or fatigued, and yours shows signs of healing.” 

Hoseok and Seokjin share a surprised look. 

“To be perfectly sincere, I would suggest that you continue what you were doing. At your discretion, of course. You still have a follow-up appointment with Kim Namjoon next week and you could discuss other alternatives. I read it was the intention from the beginning. Meanwhile, I strongly advise you to consider daily meditation,” the doctor goes on. “Recent literature shows it helps with restoring and maintaining the natural flow of magic. I'll have our nurse send you all the info."

"Doctor Kim didn't say anything about meditation," Hoseok says.

"Doctor Kim believes the cause of the problem to be congenital and that your body naturally stores magic instead of letting it flow,” Min answers. “Normal magical people probably wouldn't have had consequent health issues but you are extremely powerful compared to the average population. For this reason, the magic your body has been storing is becoming increasingly overwhelming, bringing physical symptoms."

"You don't agree with him."

Min looks at the ceiling and presses his lips together, in deep thought. 

"Your body is indeed accumulating magic,” he says after a pause, “but the ease with which sexual intimacy helped while massage therapy in a clinical setting exacerbated the problem suggests that with a little prompt and lower inhibitions, your magic could flow as it should. Meditating could assist you with both. My theory is that your body learned to store magic like we do fat, in the event your usual reserve wouldn’t be enough to let your precognitive abilities work.” 

“I see,” Hoseok says. “So you’re saying my magic is now too fat. And that the best way to burn this fat is through sex?”

Seokjin chortles. Min makes a face that is in between frustration and resignation. 

“Yes,” he confirms. 

Well, that doesn’t sound too bad. 

The visit ends soon after. Hoseok has an appointment with Kim in less than a week and has no idea how to feel about that. Maybe doctors are not too bad either, he decides. 

Seokjin places a hand on his lower back.

“I left my car nearby here yesterday night,” he says. “Come with me. We can have breakfast together.”

Hoseok has no will or mind to refuse. They chit-chat about nothing along the way. It’s only at the Starbucks they decide to have coffee and a salty croissant that Seokjin brushes a hand over Hoseok’s and asks:

“What do you want to do?”

Hoseok looks up at him. 

“What do you think?”

Seokjin’s lips curl into a small smile. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think...”

“Of course it does,” Hoseok argues. “It’s the two of us, not just me.”

Seokjin doesn’t answer and just looks at him, a first. The man has probably never been this quiet in his life. Hoseok is caught off guard for a couple of seconds before he decides he might just as well be the vulnerable one. It’s easier when you already have a good preview of what might happen, it’s just a matter of putting it into his shopping cart.

“Fine, I’ll start. I don’t want this,” he gestures at the space between them, “to be just clinic sex to help my magic lose weight.”

His words seem to unfreeze Seokjin, whose smile grows more authentic.

“Helping you with your health would never be clinical sex. It would never be like that.” 

He holds Hoseok’s hand more firmly over the table. 

“I find you extremely compelling. Intriguing. Delightful. You gave me a taste of you yesterday night and I'm like a starving man lost at sea after a first bite of food. I can't help wanting more of you. Whatever you can give me."

Ugh, the intensity. Hoseok can’t fight the blush that is creeping on his face. He chuckles and suddenly finds interest in the tea menu on the wall. He doesn’t move his hand. 

“We barely know each other.”

Seokjin shrugs. 

“Do we, really?” he replies. 

A flash, a vision of Seokjin at another table, on another day, another year. There are a few lines on his skin, proof of time passing, but he’s just as handsome, or even more so. The pink sweater would give him a soft look for not the strength and depth in his black eyes. They’re looking at Hoseok, shaking butterflies in his stomach. Present Hoseok feels a squeeze in his chest that could compare with  joyhopehome . He sees Present Seokjin exhaling in a laugh and a sudden understanding of the way he’s now regarding Hoseok. That’s his magic, Hoseok remembers. Hoseok can see the future, and Seokjin can feel him seeing the future and being happy about it. 

“Do we?” Seokjin echoes himself. 

Hoseok snorts and says:

“Alright. Let’s date.”