Chapter Text
Jimin is impatiently twisting his hands together against the steering wheel when Hoseok and Yoongi dash out and throw themselves into the car, carrying the final spell of all the remaining ingredients scraped out of their jars. And the spell isn’t effective this time, as Jimin speeds down the winding path through the forest towards the final gem, Jungkook looking too small tucked between them in the back, trembling, eyes bright and feverish with pain. Namjoon murmurs worriedly that Jungkook’s skin is like ice as he huddles into them and shakes and whispers, heartbreakingly quiet, “h-hurts, I’m c-cold” over and over. It isn’t long before Jin is shouting in alarm that the magic is carving into Jungkook’s skin again as he cries out in pain and arches against them in the backseat, blood welling up as Jungkook begins to pant, choking frantic apologies as they try to hush him.
“-but please, you can't lose your f-freedom because of me, you have to get the gem, you h-have to-"
"-and I’m - I’ll - I’m going to t-try to stay in control, I - I’ll try not to b-beg this time, I… I’m sorry-"
"-no, please don’t feel g-guilty, it’s not your f-fault, you all lost s-so much already, please, please don’t lose your f-freedom because of me-”
But the closer to the destination, the darker the blood seeps through the front of Jungkook’s shirt, the greyer his skin, and when Jungkook begins sobbing apologies to them, Jimin has to tighten his grip on the wheel until his fingers ache.
“I’m s-sorry, I want you to be f-free, I’ll t-try not to… I’ll t-try not to make it w-worse, I’m s-sorry-”
The drive is endless and agonizing and terrible. When Jimin brings the car to a slow halt, they’re right in front of the towering stone structure that holds the final gem, visible already and glinting from between corroded metal bars. As he shifts the car into park and unlocks the door, Jungkook is sobbing, is begging brokenly, and when Jin scoops him into his arms and steps out of the car, Jungkook thrashes wildly, terrible cries of pain and ragged gasps, tears pouring uncontrollably. Jin is pale and shaking and looks like he’s facing execution, and Jimin thinks he must be dying himself, that it must be his own chest that’s splintering and stabbing, bleeding heartbreak everywhere.
They all take a single step away from the car, towards the gem, and Jungkook jolts in Jin’s arms, and jerks harder when they take another. He twists and tries to curl into himself when they set their jaws and take the next step, but at the next step, Jungkook throws his head back and screams, agonized and heartbreaking, and Jimin’s hand flies to his mouth. He can’t sob, forces it down and chokes on it as tears pour down his face. He can’t turn his head, can’t see the tears he knows are blinding his boyfriends around him, and he reaches unseeingly for Hoseok’s hand beside him, grabs it tightly. One of them sobs at his side, and he can see them linking trembling hands as they brace themselves for another step, as they stand rooted, as they don’t move.
Yoongi’s face is still and white and agonized, his eyes terribly hollow, the way he always got after the worst jobs he was sent on, when he was forced to hurt people, when he was forced to take lives and ruin lives and set himself ablaze for it. They need the gem, they need to do this, because Yoongi can’t be put through it again, not ever, because now they’d have to offer him willingly, and they can't. Yoongi had bargained too much for this, and they would lose him to the consuming darkness of actions no soul should have to shoulder.
The terror drawing Taehyung’s face makes him look achingly young, too much like the scrawny, weak Taehyung Jimin who had met so many years ago. That Taehyung hadn’t yet had to survive the inhumane conditions he’d force himself through, hadn’t starved through impossible hours without eating or sleeping or ever feeling safe enough to close his eyes. They can’t send Taehyung back to that, can’t let him suffer through it again, but if they can’t do this, he’ll have to, and nothing will remain of his warmth and kindness and bright heart, not once he’s used up and the hollow remainder of him is spit back to them.
Hoseok’s grip on his hand has turned strangling, but Jimin won’t let go. Hoseok has spent countless sleepless nights since the very beginning, when they’d first discovered the possibility of this heist, when Hoseok had thrown himself tirelessly into finding proofs and meeting with dangerous sorcerers and returning not entirely unscathed every time. If they don’t find this gem, Jimin knows in his heart that Hoseok’s family won’t let him risk the factory, where no one survives even one year. He’ll be forced to try to run, and no one runs with a debt unpaid, no one gets away, and Hoseok will be found and dragged back and punished, and the interest charged for his escape will be his life, slow and merciless.
Jin’s shoulders are shaking violently, tears pouring down his face as Jungkook thrashes and sobs, pleading mindlessly in his arms. And Jin won’t survive half as long in the factories as Jimin managed to, and it won’t be from the hazardous machinery that would slice and snap at his hands, or the toxic, polluted air that would blaze through his lungs and eyes. It would break Jin watching the ragged, much too young workers around him collapse and be dragged off into the shadows, unable to help any of them without getting punished, without getting himself killed. Hoseok’s voice is strangled as he offers shakingly to take Jungkook, but Jin shakes his head so sharply, so immediately, so desperately that Hoseok ducks his head abruptly, his exhale sounding like a sob.
Namjoon looks rooted in place, eyes shut so tightly and face completely bloodless, hands in tight fists at his sides. Jungkook screams again, jagged and agonized, and Namjoon’s shaking fingers clutch at his own chest. And Namjoon has never had to take a life, has never had to kill another, and if they don’t win their freedom and pay their debt as Namjoon had sworn to far too many important, terrible people, Namjoon will be forced to offer his skills as collateral in the worst, most heinous way. Namjoon will track the punishments and debts and suffering, will keep families and children chained in the system that’s held him and his boyfriends all captive and starving their whole lives. And if anyone steps out of line, any man or woman or child, Namjoon will be the one tasked to eliminate them, and he’d have to obey, and it would break him and he can’t do it, he can’t. They need the gems, they need their freedom, they need to escape this.
Jimin’s hand is numb and unfeeling where Hoseok has it in a death grip as Jungkook’s scream chokes and breaks off, but his bloodless fingers don’t hurt compared to the bloody mangling of his chest, to the charring decimation of his heart that’s searing and seeping and drowning, the hot agony of heartbreak as Jungkook sobs raggedly, desperately. Namjoon jerks and shivers and swallows convulsively before he takes one shuddering step forward. Jimin forces himself to do the same, closing his eyes when they all take another step across the twig-strewn clearing, and Jungkook screams, anguished, please please.
But even with the pulsing red behind his eyelids he can’t block out Jungkook’s suffering, can hear Yoongi muffle a sob and Taehyung’s stricken gasps as Namjoon takes another step forward. Jin’s face is crumpled and ruined like he’s never seen before, when Jimin looks over with burning eyes to see where Jungkook writhes in his arms, begging. Jimin’s heart is warping in his chest, is crumbling under the crushing weight of this, and Jungkook’s voice is getting too jagged, his throat must be scraped raw with the force of his screams, and Namjoon jerks to a halt, chest heaving.
Jimin’s heart thunders in his throat when Namjoon drops Taehyung and Yoongi’s hands abruptly, when he stumbles to Jin and yanks Jungkook into his own shaking arms. Jungkook pushes his tear-streaked face into Namjoon’s chest desperately, sobbing helpless and broken, “h-hurts, please, please, please” and Jimin staggers back into Hoseok, despair gouging deeper and harder into his heart. Namjoon sobs sharply, shoulders trembling, and when he forces his head up, there’s a blazing question in his eyes, a terrible question with terrible consequences for all of them, an impossible question for any of them because they can't. Jimin’s heart is blazing and erupting, he’s going to suffocate on the insidious smoke sealing his lungs because they can’t do this, they can’t make this decision, this isn’t an option, they don’t have any options, any choices.
But Namjoon’s tortured gaze travels over each of them in turn, and he sees something in their blinding stares and tear-filled eyes, because Jimin watches five shuddering boys take one stumbling step back, then another. Jimin feels sure he’s going to collapse, head throbbing and pulsing with impossible, screaming turmoil and despair as he watches Yoongi wrap his arms tightly around himself, face crumpling as he sobs sharply, once, twice. Then he’s whirling around and dashing for the car, Jin swaying and stumbling behind him. Taehyung is clutching Hoseok as if he holds his entire weight, as if he holds any possible answer, and they’re both gasping and shaking as they drag themselves back to the car.
Jimin is falling, crashing, shattering into irreparable shards even as he takes each dazed step towards the car, as he tries to lift an unbearably stiff, heavy hand to the door handle, the finality of it dizzying, terrifying. Everything they spent to get here, the time and the money they didn’t have and won’t have, won’t ever have now, because this is going to cost them everything, cost them their freedom, cost them each other.
His dazed, unfocused eyes stare into the car, where all five of his boyfriends are crammed into the backseat. Jungkook is huddled in Taehyung’s lap, tears streaming down his face, shoulders shaking. Yoongi is curled around Jungkook, expression hidden and face pressed into his hair. Namjoon and Jin are crouched in front of them with their heads bowed over each of Jungkook’s trembling hands they’re clutching. Hoseok is wrapped around Taehyung, forehead pressed into Jungkook’s shoulder. Jimin forces his hand up, yanks the door open, sits down robotically, starts the car. When he pulls sharply away from the roughly cut stone structure with the gleaming purple stone, he doesn’t look back, not once.
Jimin doesn’t look back when Yoongi gasps and begins to cry into Namjoon’s chest, doesn’t look back when Taehyung tips his head back and begins to hyperventilate, doesn’t look back when Jin crawls onto Hoseok’s lap to clutch his shoulders tightly and press their foreheads together, both shuddering in terror. Jimin doesn’t slow down when Jungkook drifts back into awareness and slams into the terrible realization of what they've done, when he sobs anguished apologies even as the pain visibly loosens in his face and limbs. Jimin pushes the car forward steadily, street after street, their shoulders dropping alongside Jungkook’s as the pain wavers and lessens, as the exhaustion and agony of the ordeal sink Jungkook into sleep, tucked warm and safe in their arms as they drive on, the final gem receding further and further.
When Jimin allows himself to glance in the rearview mirror, a tear is streaking down Namjoon’s devastated face as he presses a kiss into Jungkook’s hair, as Taehyung tucks him further into his chest and Hoseok presses a limp palm against his cheek and exhales, as Yoongi clutches at his own hair almost frantically but catches his gaze in the mirror, nods firmly. Jimin returns the nod, throat constricting, and presses harder on the accelerator. There’s something shaking apart inside him, ricocheting and collapsing past his ribs, and he needs Jungkook in his own arms, in all of their arms, now, now. The car is empty but for gasping breaths and muffled sobs and one set of deep, steady breathing in sleep, and Jimin inhales unsteadily, again, and drives on.
Even with the brutally forced steadiness of Yoongi's hands, patching up Jungkook takes far too long, because there’s that much blood. Yoongi feel nauseous at the merciless way the magic has carved through Jungkook, gouged deep, like some terrible sun winding from the center of his chest with dark blood seeping from snaking, vicious wounds. He nods tersely to Jimin when the last bandage is taped down firmly, and Jimin finally lets go of the tight, soothing grip he’s had on Jungkook’s hands since the moment they stepped out of the car, since Jimin had pried his white knuckled grip from the steering wheel he’d clutched so desperately. Yoongi can’t imagine not having been able to touch Jungkook for so long, to be forced to just listen to the sobs and terrible cries he’d made, the pain he’d suffered because of them. In a second, Jimin is on Jungkook where he’s laying limply on his back, limbs haphazard and weak, big eyes shining as he blinks exhaustedly, staring up at the scratched ceiling. Jimin has tears steadily pouring down his face as he guides Jungkook so gently and carefully to lay against him, and Yoongi feels his jaw loosen at the way Jungkook bonelessly collapses into him, the way he buries his face in his neck and shudders, the soft way he sighs when Jimin’s fingers reach up to stroke through dark hair.
Yoongi curls his fingers into a fist, releases them, and closes his eyes to lean more heavily against the bedside table. There’s something searing in his chest, glacial and bitter, the way hurting people always makes him feel cold, hollow. But there’s a fluttering warmth slipping through it now at the way Jungkook had been so warm and soft in his arms when Yoongi had laid him gently on the mattress, the way Jungkook’s weak hands had gripped at his shirt when he’d hugged him slowly and carefully. Jungkook’s small voice when he’d breathed a broken apology into Yoongi’s neck, his too-warm skin when Yoongi had pressed a kiss to his forehead long enough that Jungkook had laughed breathlessly.
He shoves down the freezing tendrils of dread curling around his heart, the unavoidable knowledge that he’s going to have to hurt people again, that he’s trapped himself into this terrible servitude forever. That he’s never going to have that life he’d let himself dream of, with these six boys he loves, with clean hands that don’t shake and shudder, with a heart that won’t seep and bleed, and a conscience that won’t scream when he closes his eyes. He viciously forces down the dark thoughts and darting terror, and thinks instead of the desperate way his boyfriends had clung to the small, shaking body huddled between them in the car, the terrible screams that had echoed through the clearing, the way Jungkook had writhed and begged. They could never have done it. They could never have gone through with it, it would have killed them, and he thinks maybe it almost did, maybe it was almost enough pain to break their smiles, to pierce their warm hearts, and it would never, ever have gotten them freedom.
Namjoon has a hand over his face when he emerges from the bedroom with a pale Jin and a shaking Taehyung, and when both of them sink to the table, Hoseok looks up from where he’s slumped against the wall, head on his knees. Namjoon wipes at his eyes with a sleeve, clears his throat, and looks up at them, eyes desperate and apologetic but absolutely unwavering.
“We’re going to return the gems.”
Yoongi’s chest feels like it’s crumbling, his heart hollowing dust, but he knew, he knew from the moment he’d turned back towards the car, the choice they were all making, the consequences they were all agreeing to. He knows they have to return the gems, knows every single buyer had made it clear the gems didn’t hold power or value alone, but it’s with bitterness and trepidation and insidious dread that his voice emerges roughly, drawing all eyes to where he’s clutches at his arms too tightly, shoulders too tense.
“I’ll go.”
The car ride with Hoseok is near silent, the rushing of the wind past the windows and the rushing of dark and terrible thoughts in his mind, the fears for himself and for the others threatening to send him to his knees with every unsteady step through the ominously swaying trees, and every gut-wrenching step into the stone vault. He places the gem back into the metal bars he’d retrieved it from so recently, so long ago, in a different lifetime, one in which he was going to be able to love and be loved and hold on to the people he’d sacrificed everything for. It’s almost anticlimactic, the quiet of it, the rustle of the breeze through the trees around them, the surrender with which Hoseok hangs his head before turning back, the tension in the silent car on the way back.
But when they get to the hideout, they reenter the room to find Jungkook sitting up in bed, flushed with colour in his cheeks, eyes wide as he breathlessly asks them, with hardly a rasp, what happened. Yoongi and Hoseok have hardly processed the sight before them when they're diving into the bed to embrace him from either side, and it almost makes it ache less sharply when Namjoon and Taehyung rise to return the other one, when Jin tugs Hoseok with him to return the last. Jimin hasn’t left Jungkook’s side and doesn’t seem likely to, the furthest he goes being the bathroom, but it’s while Jimin is taking a quick shower that Yoongi straightens from where he’s pacing nervously around the table just outside the bedroom where Jungkook is sleeping soundly, brow hardly furrowed in pain anymore, barely shivering.
Joonie: Our gemstone has been returned.
Jin: done
Yoongi feels a jolt slam through him, and he rounds the table at a run and staggers into the bedroom, heart racing, then freezes. Jungkook is standing steadily on his own beside the bed, cheeks rosy and expression stunned, looking up at Yoongi with his sparkling eyes clear, beaming. Jimin collides with Yoongi from behind with a gasp, and Jungkook, glowing, jumps in place with excitement, then laughs brightly as Jimin dashes past Yoongi to crash into him and yank him in. There are tears sliding down Yoongi’s stunned face, and it feels surreal to watch Jungkook grin and hug Jimin around the waist, to see Jungkook lift Jimin and spin him happily, Jimin throwing his head back and laughing.
Then Jungkook is the one frozen as Jimin wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him deeply. Yoongi feels himself smiling softly as he shakes himself back into motion, Jungkook’s eyes wide as he lets Jimin down and steps back. Jimin’s hands are frantic and his eyes sincere as he apologizes, but Jungkook shakes his head vehemently and mumbles that it was fine and better than fine and very good before he looks worriedly between Jimin and Yoongi, then down at his own hands where they fidget with the hem of his shirt - Namjoon’s shirt, adorably wide around his shoulders.
“Is that… am I…” Jungkook begins shyly, and Jimin smiles at him, reaching out to link hands with Yoongi and tug him to stand beside them.
“If you want to. Only if you want.” Jimin emphasizes, and squeezes Yoongi’s hand nervously until Jungkook looks up with a bashful smile and eager eyes and a quick nod. Jimin beams. “The others are waiting. Until you’re better. When they’re back-” Jimin explains, but Yoongi is finally processing Jungkook standing on his own, Jungkook’s face flushed and healthy, and not pale and wan and exhausted, Jungkook’s eyes sparkling with life again and not dull and exhausted, Jungkook vibrant and energetic and alive.
Yoongi is yanking him into a hug before he’s aware of it, but Jungkook has hardly melted into it when Yoongi pulls back just enough to lean their foreheads together, then tip them into a gentle press of lips. Jungkook smiles, blushes, and then presses forward, not breaking the kiss until they’re both gasping. By far, it’s the best kind of breathless gasp either have heard from Jungook so far, his eyes bright with happiness and his body warm and strong in Yoongi’s arms, and Yoongi wants to hold him forever. Then Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and his startled gaze drops to his own chest as he steps slightly back, as they each inhale sharply, because Yoongi can see it now.
It looks like a large marble, just as Jungkook had described, with a chain of bright, thin light locking it around his neck, and the light forms a chain that hangs down to wrap around his wrists, terrible and binding. The sphere is hanging over his chest right where Yoongi darkly knows the jagged cuts lash out from. As he and Jimin lean forward, words flash in front of it, hovering in the air before them as Jungkook reaches tremulously for each of their hands.
The chaos gemstones have vanished and will re-form in alternate locations to ensure their safety. The Serenity releases you from your servitude.
There’s a strange shift in the air of the room, an odd pressure releasing around them and the sensation of standing in a forceful wind, and Yoongi feels his eyes being forced closed, tightens his grip on Jungkook and Jimin’s hands reflexively as they do the same. Then his eyes are flying open as it lifts, as the room goes back to normal, and they’re all standing exactly where they were, eyes wary and surprised as they look each other over. Jungkook’s dark hair looks windswept, but his fingers as he gently tugs them out of their grasps and raises them to his chest are steady. When he looks up at them, the hope and shock brimming in his eyes tremble through his whisper.
“It’s gone. I’m… I’m free.”
Yoongi feels his heart thudding as Jimin squeals with delight beside him, as Jungkook throws himself into Jimin’s waiting arms. And there’s a dark thickness shifting around his heart at the word free but he shoves it down, bites it back forcefully as the door flies open behind them. Jin is the first one into the door, face lined with weary resignation and terrible with defeat, but he rears back in shock at the sight of Jungkook hurriedly releasing Jimin and hurtling across the room towards him, cheeks flushed and bounding with energy. Yoongi finds himself instinctively lunging to catch him as if he’ll unbalance, but Jungkook is diving into Jin’s arms and twirling them around in his excitement, and Jimin laughs brightly beside him at the way Namjoon’s jaw drops in the doorway at the sight. Jungkook’s laugh is clear and high as he spins around to crash into Namjoon’s arms.
“I’m free, it’s gone, it’s gone, I’m free!” Jungkook is gleeful and disbelieving and bright, and Namjoon’s grin is dazzling as he sweeps Jungkook into his arms, hugging him tightly, both their eyes squeezing shut as they sway together, Jin still frozen behind them. Then Namjoon is leaning back to cup Jungkook’s face so gently it makes Yoongi’s heart flutter, and when Jungkook’s sparkling eyes sweep all of them in the room, radiating happiness and excitement, he nods at Namjoon, and Namjoon leans forward and kisses him, long and deep, until Jungkook breaks off giggling breathlessly.
Yoongi feels Jimin’s hand slip into his own as Hoseok unfreezes from beside Jin and lunges forward to latch onto Jungkook from behind, beaming with relief at Jungkook’s laugh as Hoseok presses kisses onto his face and hair. Jungkook turns in Namjoon’s hold to kiss Hoseok back, and they smile against each others lips for a moment that flares warm and content in Yoongi’s chest. Then Taehyung is wriggling between them, insistently peppering kisses to Jungkook’s face as tears pour down his own, and Jungkook is tugging him into a fierce hug. Jin stumbles over, still looking dazed but overjoyed, to embrace the three of them, laughing when they all latch hands onto his shirt and yank him into the middle.
Namjoon slides over to tug Yoongi back against him, arms around him from behind and leaning down to rest his chin on his shoulder with a shaky exhale, and Jimin releases his hand to link their arms and press close against his side, expression wavering as he bites his lip. Something in Yoongi's chest twists and yanks, and he tries to inhale and exhale steadily, to lean into the safety he always feels in their arms, the calm he can always draw being between them. Because a part of his chest is cold and hard and dark with the knowledge that they aren’t free, that they aren’t going to be free, not anymore. Jungkook is free, and Yoongi’s throat is thick and his heart quivers with what this means for them, what this will cost them, what this will cost him. Because Yoongi has done terrible things and has hurt people and he’s going to have to do worse, and for longer, and ruin so many more lives, starting with his own and those of his boyfriends, and some part of him is shattering apart with it. He needed his freedom, needed it desperately and miserably, and the only possibility for it is gone forever now, and Yoongi has only his dark path forward and he isn’t going to be free, none of them will.
But Jungkook is free. Jungkook is free and he isn’t going to be hurt anymore, not ever again if Yoongi can help it. And when Taehyung and Hoseok start pressing kisses all over his face again and he laughs, bright and vibrant, Yoongi sees the enraptured way Namjoon and Jin watch, eyes glowing with joy and relief as Jimin dashes over and winds himself around Jungkook from behind him with a grin. And Yoongi thinks if this can just last a bit longer, if he can just hold this moment warm in his fluttering heart and cling to it forever, maybe things can be alright after all, maybe he can be alright somehow, in the end.
* * *
Jungkook leaps out of the car from the passenger seat with a grin just as Jin is shifting into park and grabbing for him from the driver’s seat, not quite quick enough.
“Jungkook!” Jin calls exasperatedly, scrambling to yank out the key and grab his bag, but Jungkook is laughing and darting through the garage door into the house, takeout bags held aloft as he calls, “I brought food!”
He can hear Jin’s loud grumble about his stealing credit for the food Jungkook’s only contribution had been carrying in now, after Jin carefully and lovingly prepared and cooked it and set it aside at his job as head chef of the restaurant downtown. Taehyung is bounding down the stairs excitedly, and Jungkook pouts when his boyfriend bypasses him with a quick peck, snatching the bags from his hands and spinning off towards the kitchen. When Hoseok slinks down the stairs, eyes lighting up at the sight of the food, Jungkook leaps into his arms on the last step, and Hoseok affectionately yanks him tight and presses kisses into his hair.
“You all know it was from me,” Jin sighs where he’s unlacing his boots. “I’m the one who cooked these and picked up Jungkook from class, his only contribution was-”
Jin cuts off when Taehyung sprints from the kitchen to dive into his arms and tug him into a kiss, and as Hoseok loosens his arms enough for Jungkook to turn and lean against his chest and poke his tongue out at Jin, even as he and Hoseok chorus, “Thank you for the food!”
Jin huffs, but he’s smiling as Taehyung helps him out of his coat and he hangs his keys by the door, keychain swinging, an impractically large and fuzzy stuffed mouse Jimin had bought him as a joke. The sight of Jin managing to cram his keys into his pocket and retrieve them was always just as amusing, and sent Jimin into peals of laughter, tipping into the nearest person or surface or right onto the ground. Jimin should be home from dance class soon, having signed up for the afternoon sessions to get a ride home with Namjoon after he dismissed his last class, while Hoseok was in the morning dance classes and dropped off Taehyung at the elementary school he taught at every morning.
“Ggukie, grab Yoongi for dinner?” Hoseok calls from where he and Taehyung are setting the table. “He’s been in there for hours.”
Jin is rolling his eyes fondly, and Jungkook nods eagerly and dashes down the stairs to where Yoongi is sequestered away in his soundproof studio. It hadn’t been just Jungkook, but all six of them who had been the best kind of surprised to discover Yoongi’s overwhelming passion and love for music that he’d never had the chance to explore until now, until he was free and could do what he wanted and do what makes him happy, so happy. Because Yoongi at his most focused and content and satisfied, headphones on his ears and hunched over in his studio, passion gleaming in his eyes, is a sight that never fails to make his boyfriends' hearts soar.
Jungkook knocks carefully, and waits for the distracted call for him to enter before slipping in and closing the door behind him. The studio is dim, and he bounds over to where Yoongi has his head down, eyes closed, nodding along to a beat. Jungkook can feel the affection coursing through him as Yoongi clicks a few times before he looks up, and his face lights up as he tugs the headphones off.
“Jungkook.” Yoongi says his name so softly, so warmly, and when he reaches for his hand, Jungkook smiles and lets Yoongi tug him into his lap. Yoongi wraps his arms around him as Jungkook sinks into his chest, heart thrumming with joy as Yoongi presses a kiss to his forehead and sighs. When Jungkook tips his face up for a kiss, Yoongi’s eyes are tired, but the regular weary of long hours on a project he’s enjoying, not the bone-weary exhaustion of endless hours awake and struggling. Namjoon had quietly pointed out last week how much Yoongi has cut down his coffee intake too, and Hoseok had mentioned that days at a time have been passing without any nightmares for him or Yoongi, both sleeping so much better lately.
“Did you finish your project?” Yoongi murmurs into his hair, and Jungkook eagerly nods, looking up with shining eyes at Yoongi’s proud smile. Jungkook had been working on an elaborate piece for the art class he’s been taking at the community center, a hobby he’d never let himself entertain the possibility of when he couldn’t afford it, couldn’t even afford the time much less the money. For the hundredth, thousandth time, Jungkook closes his eyes and sends up a silent wave of gratitude for the bookshop that had granted him his freedom, that had won him the freedom of those he loved most, and who loved him most.
The bookstore, unprofitable as it had been for selling books, had been in his family multiple generations, and he’d clung to it so desperately and tried so fervently to keep it open that he’d never fathomed the possibility of selling it, of even checking its value or worth. But it turned out the costly repairs and renovations he was constantly needing, the complicated repairs on the wiring and electrics, had all been explained by the magic running through so much of the foundation of the store, the ceiling beams and the shining shelves and even the handrails on the stairs, interfering with the modern electricity. Ancient magical building materials had turned out to be near priceless, and they had definitely been priceless enough to him when they’d painstakingly taken the bookstore apart piece by piece.
The price of some of the carved designs on the ceiling had bought him Namjoon and Hoseok’s debts, the curving metal decorations on the walls had bought him Taehyung and Jimin and Jin’s freedoms, and the finicky, temperamental old cash register had paid Yoongi out of every terrible forced association and tie. And the rest of it, the floorboards and the walls and the shelving and some of the most valuable books had paid to bring everything down with their debts, to destroy the despicable people who had held their lives in the balance for so long, to shatter their shadowy networks and condemn their decrepit factories and free the endless trapped people they’d worked around and with for far too long.
And the six of them didn’t share with Jungkook all the details, or even many of them, didn’t let him into the dark side of their lives they were leaving behind, but he saw enough. He saw the vindication and quiet triumph on their faces those first weeks, felt the desperately relieved way they all held him tighter every time they returned exchanging heavy looks and trembling, eyes bright and heads held high. But it’s over now, all of it, and they’re free, they’re all free.
Yoongi shifts them both to their feet, and lacing their fingers together, leads them up the stairs and down the hall to the kitchen, where Jungkook can hear Namjoon’s distinctively loud voice. Jungkook feels a pulse of warmth at Namjoon and Jimin’s arriving in time, dinners always best with all seven of them. Yoongi slips into the living room to set down a notebook, and Jungkook trails behind him, looking at the bright, clear sky through the enormous windows lining the room. They’d built the house themselves, chosen enormous glass panels lining the walls in every room, and the house was always bright and open and made Jungkook’s chest soar, made his boyfriends' eyes lighten and their shoulders lose their tension.
Namjoon looks up when they enter the kitchen, where he’s draped across Jin at the counter as he and Hoseok carefully scoop noodles into plates. Namjoon grins, and opens his arms right in time to catch Jungkook as he sprints over to throw himself into them. Namjoon laughs brightly and spins them, and Taehyung leaps off the table where he’s setting out silverware, giving no warning before he’s diving into Jimin’s chest. Jimin’s reflexes are too quick not to catch him, and his eyes gleam as he dutifully twirls them around.
“What about me?” Yoongi mumbles around the spring roll he’s chewing, giving no indication of any intention to move at all, and Hoseok raises an eyebrow at him with a grin as Yoongi shoves him with a chuckle. Jungkook drops heavily into the chair beside Jimin as Taehyung slides back to grab more cups, and Jimin tugs Jungkook towards him for a kiss before he wraps his arms around his shoulders and hugs him tight.
“You’re all sweaty.” Jungkook protests half-heartedly even as he melts into the embrace, and Jimin just laughs and rubs his damp hair against Jungkook’s shirt. Hoseok ruffles both their hair before dropping into the chair beside Taehyung, and Jungkook’s gaze drifts across the table to where Jin tugs Namjoon down beside him, to where Yoongi is passing the vegetables across the middle of the table. He smiles brightly as he yanks his plate towards him and digs in.
Above their heads, a protection charm rotates, slow and calm and serene, twinkling in the bright sunshine streaming through the windows as it pulses and wards firmly against any magic in any form. Beneath the charm and within its solid protection, seven boys chatter and laugh and lean into each other, happy and warm and safe and protected and free.