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Peaceful Home or Distant Blue

Summary:

As the district witch for a rural mountain, Hoseok has a lot on his plate—fielding requests from the local council, making sure his three apprentices don’t kill themselves or each other, and, when he gets a spare moment, trying to solve the mystery of why a freak earthquake almost destroyed the mountain four years ago.

Oh, and Kim Seokjin wants to take him out for a drink.

Notes:

Hello! Welcome to the weird, found family mountain witches AU that has been living in my head for. . .a while.

The idea was sparked by wishing, sometime last winter, that I could use a spell to defrost a car, rather than having to scrape it, because it there is nothing more annoying when it’s -20 Celsius. Then Jack in the Box came out, and about six months later, they smashed together in my head with a dash of the 2021 winter package, I saw this fest, and we got. . .this. For obvious reasons, this one is a self prompt, but this has been a blast to participate in—thanks for running such a well-organized fest 😊

The first three chapters are up now, the rest has been mostly written, and will follow as I edit it.

A few things:

1) I've exaggerated the age difference between the hyung and maknae lines here, so Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook are younger that the rest of BTS. The characters do use Korean ages, so Hoseok, on the older end, is 24 Korean age (23 international age) here. Jimin and the rest of the maknaes are aged down—Jimin and Taehyung are 19 in Korean age and about to turn 20 (18/17 international age) and Jungkook is 17 (16 international).

2) I don't have a beta, so there may well be typos--I'll do my best to fix those before I post, but I may make changes to some after. I also don't know much about rural municipal politics in Korea, despite them kind of playing a role in this fic. I did do some googling, and am chalking up the majority of any weirdness to the fact that this world also has magic. I’m also not Korean, so it’s possible I’ve missed other things. Feel free to let me know if anything is particularly egregious.

3) I'm tagging major character death to be on the safe side for now because so far as the characters know, that character is dead, and that plays a fairly large role in the early part of the fic. I will change that tag later, as the story develops. If you want more details on this, you can jump to the end notes for spoilers. EDIT: This tag has been removed, but details are still at the end notes if you want them.

Title is adapted from Safety Zone.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: One

Chapter Text

The car, when he gets to it, is freezing, windshield iced over. Hoseok glances back at the house, shadowed against the pale grey of the sky and blue of the mountain, but sees no tell-tale yellow glow in the windows. Still asleep, then. He places a finger against the ice on the driver side window and draws a warming charm, watching the ice turn to water as he does. He doesn’t need to do it, so it’s exactly the sort of thing he’d scold the kids for, but they’re still warm in bed and not paying attention.

A puff of warm air floats out when he opens the door, and he slams it shut as soon as he’s in, enclosing himself in the warmth and feeling his shoulders drop. He pulls his hat off and tosses it on the passenger seat beside him, starting the car and heading down the driveway.

The farm looks dead when he pulls in. He has change for the milk and eggs he needs, so it doesn’t technically matter; he can just put cash in the box. Still, that would leave him with only half his errand finished. He’d call, but he doesn’t want Taehyung to know unless the answer is yes. With three sets of ears, it doesn’t really matter if Taehyung himself overhears or not. He’d know almost as soon as the words left Hoseok’s lips.

In the early days, he’d worried about Jimin and Taehyung fighting, but of course it turned out that’s not really an issue anymore. Now sometimes he wishes they were a little more distant, despite himself. It might prevent the gossiping, at least.

A light flickers on in the house as he turns the car off, and he winces. Muppet is plainly outlined in the sudden light, shaggy fur shaking as she barks. It’s already seven, and it’s a Tuesday, so everyone outside of his band of sleepy teenagers should be up, but he hopes he hasn’t woken anyone.

The store section of the barn is dark except for the light of the glass door of the fridge. He grabs biggest carton of milk he can find, a squash, and two dozen eggs. He knows he ate lots as a kid, but he’d always through people were joking about the appetite of the teenage boy, and then he ended up with three. He sets the groceries on the counter and starts poking through the baskets on the counter. It’s candy mostly, today, which they don’t need, but—

The barking warns him the moment before the door opens, and he turns. Muppet barrels in, clearly intending to do her level best to lick every inch of him with her usual enthusiasm, so he drops to his knees to scratch her ears and let her shower his face with kisses.

“I guess she knows you,” a voice says.

That’s not Sooyeon or Jihun.

Hoseok looks up and immediately regrets every choice that led him here. How could he have ever gotten so complacent, in the casual comfort of the mountain, to have left the house in sweatpants?

The voice belongs to the most handsome man Hoseok has ever seen—clear skin, strong jaw, and full pouty lips. He’s dressed practically; jeans, work boots, a high collared felt winter coat covering broad shoulders and a surprisingly narrow waist, but impeccably. Hoseok is suddenly, viscerally aware of not only the fact that he is wearing sweatpants, but how threadbare they are, shoved into the tops of his grey rainboots. Worse, he’s wearing his warmest, and therefore ugliest, winter coat, and—god, the hat. It’s awful. It was the first thing Jimin ever made, and it’s jarring orange. Hoseok wears it, of course, because Jimin hates it and Hoseok is nothing is not committed to disrupting Jimin’s perfectionist streak as best as he can, but. It may have been the wrong choice. At least today.

“Where are Sooyeon and Jihun?” He says, and then curses himself again when the man’s smile falters. Shit. Not the best start.

“Oh, did you—I can,” the man gestures towards the house with his thumb.

“No I—sorry.” Hoseok stands. “Sorry. I’m—it’s early. No coffee!” He doesn’t understand people who complain about clichés, they are conversational lifeline that should never be underestimated. “I just needed some—” a gesture at the groceries—“and I’m Hoseok,” he finishes. This is embarrassing. This man has struck him dumb, which isn’t something that normally happens. He’s gotten good at holding his composure, over the years.

The man’s mouth quirks. His lips are so plush. “I’m Seokjin,” he says. “Jihun’s my uncle.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hoseok says. “I’m just gonna—I don’t need change—” he digs into his pocket, which mostly contains loose bills. Muppet, sensing an opportunity for a treat, barks at him. He fumbles, slaps the bills on the table that doubles as a cash. He doesn’t look at Seokjin, but he thinks he’s watching him. Muppet noses at his pocket. Hoseok should have brought a bag.

“Hoseok…” Seokjin says. “Jung Hoseok? You’re the district witch?”

“Yup!” Hoseok says, “That’s me! Here for all your witchy needs!” He gives up on the squash and turns to Seokjin, waggling the milk jug in a half-hearted wave.

Seokjin chuckles. His laugh is squeaky, a little awkward. It’s surprising, but somehow relaxing, and Hoseok feels himself switch from tracking how handsome Seokjin is to noticing the curve of his smile, the way his eyes crinkle in a way that just feels kind. Instantly, he can feel himself smiling in response, a bright, uncontrolled thing.

“Let me get that,” Seokjin says, coming over to Hoseok and grabbing the squash. He smells good, clean and neat. The tops of his ears are just a little red.

“Sorry,” Hoseok says. “I should have brought a bag, probably.”

“’s fine,” Seokjin says, following Hoseok to the car. Hoseok puts the eggs and milk in the back, and then opens the front door, leaning on it to face Seokjin and take the squash from him. Muppet snuffs in vague interest at the side of the seat below them, before clearly deciding that Hoseok’s car is not, in fact, the place for her.

“Actually, if you don’t mind,” Hoseok says. May as well finish his errand. “I did need to ask Sooyeon and Jihun something. I wondered if they might be willing to let Taehyung work on the farm a little bit—he’s one of my apprentices—and I think he might have some promise with gardening, but I’m not really—it’s not totally my area, and I thought they could help.”

Seokjin quirks an eyebrow, but if he has a question, he doesn’t ask it. “I can check,” he says. “I think probably it would be fine, the extra help won’t go amiss—that’s why I’m here, really.”

“Oh, is everything okay?” Hoseok asks, “I didn’t realize—”

“Oh no,” Seokjin says, “They’re fine. I just—it’s a lot for only two people, you know.”

“Right, of course,” Hoseok says. He’s never seen any real signs that Sooyeon and Jihun need major help on the farm, as least not more than the locals they hire in the warmer seasons to help with planting and harvesting and the markets (often teens and some retirees who are a little strapped for cash) but he guesses they are getting a bit older.

“Anyway, I’ll ask,” Seokjin says. “Should I just give you a call or text or something and let you know?”

“That’ll be perfect,” Hoseok says. “Sooyeon has my number. That’s probably simplest. And they know Tae, so they might be able to make a more informed decision. Tae’s—well. He’s very enthusiastic about things.”

“Oh,” Seokjin says. He takes a step back, his smile fading for a second before it returns. “Well, we can definitely do that.” He reaches down to grab Muppet’s collar, holding her still. “We’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Thanks,” Hoseok says. “The kids and I really appreciate it.” He slides into the driver’s seat and closes the door, tossing the squash on the passenger seat and waving as he turns the key and then pulls away. He glances back in the rear-view mirror, where he can see Muppet dancing around at Seokjin’s feet as he walks back towards the house.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon, and three of them—Seokjin, Muppet and the house, are lit up with the early morning sun, still pale in the chill late October air. He wonders how long Seokjin is going to be in town. It isn’t often that new people come by, at least not in late fall and winter, when the tourists are deterred by the cold wind and the wet.

It might be nice to have someone new his age around, he thinks. He spends too much time with teenagers.

 

“Good morning!” Hoseok yells, when he opens the door. The house is still dark. He flips on the lights. Kongji, asleep on the top of the cat tree by the window in the kitchen, opens an eye and glares at him with the sort of vitriol only a cat can muster. He puts the groceries away and then starts making breakfast, listening to the tell-tale thump as someone rolls out of bed and directly onto the floor. The sound comes from Jimin and Tae’s room but is probably Jungkook. He’s more or less abandoned his own bed since he got more comfortable with them, and he wasn’t in Hoseok bed when he got up this morning.

Despite the fact that it’s his day for solo training, and he doesn’t actually need to be up yet, Hoseok can hear that Jimin, as usual, is awake enough to get the others out the door. As he listens, he can hear Jimin’s voice, demanding “how can you still be asleep on the floor? Jungkook-ah!” from upstairs.

Their dynamics are fascinating to Hoseok. His weird, lovely babies. It’s not exactly what he thought he’d be doing after he finished school, but he’s found, more and more, that he likes it. He does often worry that these particular kids—smart and talented as they are—would be better off with more; a bigger coven, more teachers, more resources. At this point he’s selfish enough that it would be hard to let them go.

Taehyung, still half asleep, fumbles his way into the kitchen, makes a bowl a granola apparently without opening his eyes, and shoves three spoons directly into his mouth without chewing. One eye opens as his cheeks bulge, and he glances at Hoseok. “Were you out?” he asks, words slurring a little as Jungkook and Jimin enter the room.

“Yes,” Hoseok says. “To the farm. We were outta milk and I wanted more veggies.”

“Hyung went to the farm?” Jungkook asks, yawning. “It’s so early.”

“It’s late, actually,” Hoseok says. “You and Taehyung need to go.”

Jimin is still in his pajamas, but at least his eyes are mostly open. “Yeah,” he says, settling at the table haughtily. “Go away. It’s my day with hyung.”

Hoseok glances at the clock, winces, and just shoves half a leftover roll of kimbap in Jungkook’s hand, pushing his back to propel him out the door. Taehyung hands his half-eaten bowl of granola to Jimin, who trails behind him feeding them both with alternate spoonfuls. Only a little yogurt lands on the floor.

“Say goodbye, hyung,” Taehyung demands at the door. Hoseok screeches happily, planting a messy smack on Taehyung’s hair and then on Jungkook’s, who cringes and blushes scarlet, before Taehyung pulls him out the door.

“Have a good day,” he yells, as they leave. “Stay safe!” Jungkook’s still hunched, but Taehyung’s swinging their hands, yelling back that Hyung shouldn’t be so protective and weird, god, what’s wrong with him, as if he hadn’t been demanding kisses just 15 seconds before.

“Training in the city cannot be like that,” Jimin says, as Hoseok closes the door behind them. He’s finished Taehyung’s granola, empty bowl in his hands.

“What?” Hoseok says, “Jimin! You don’t like my methods! When I slave away to offer you the best witch training experience this mountain has to offer?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. He’s right, of course. No one ever kissed Hoseok’s hair as a student, and Yoongi and Namjoon weren’t exactly super physically affectionate, unless Hoseok practically climbed into their space to demand it. “It’s the only witch training this mountain has to offer,” he says.

“Well,” Hoseok said. “That doesn’t mean it’s not good!”

Jimin grins. “Well then,” he says, turning on his heel, “I suppose you ought to teach me something.”

They spend most of the morning working on perception spells, which are a lovely combination of fiddly and dangerous, mainly because they’re so tied up in the body that they’ll drain the energy right out of you. Hoseok prefers to draw them, which Jimin is pretty good at, so at least it’s simple. Jimin is clever and smart and works hard, so he’s fun to teach, especially as he nears graduation and the spells get more complicated. He’ll be the first to become a full-fledged witch. Hoseok doesn’t think it’ll be that far away, and for now, the one on ones with him are easy. Honestly, one on one’s with all of them are pretty easy. Fridays, when they are all together, are a little harder, but still, he’s fairly lucky. They’re good kids.

After dinner, Hoseok has a meeting with the local councillor. District administration is not his favourite part of being a witch, but it’s also unavoidable, unless you are employed by a corporation or city big enough that they hire a full coven, and you can divide the labour. Then administration is some poor witch’s fulltime job.

Here, the town councillor is a tiny, imposing woman who has very little time for Hoseok unless she needs something. She asks after the kids, of course—Jungkook is her nephew, and her parents took in Jimin, for a bit, before he manifested his magic—but doesn’t, in practice, seem all that interested in his answer.

“No major things that will require your input on the agenda this week,” she says, once they’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way. “The district is hearing a proposal for further wind farm installations on the eastern side of the mountain, which will be close to your home. I imagine they will go through, it will be useful for us, and very few other people live to near you.”

That’s on purpose, of course. It’s customary to have the town witches’ dwelling be a bit further away from the rest of the town, if you’re training apprentices there. Not all apprentices become witches. Not all apprentices make it through training.

“Of course, Kim Binna-nim” Hoseok says. “The extra energy will be good for the village, I’m sure. My current apprentices have very good control already. It shouldn’t cause any issues so long as no one else manifests.”

Her nostrils narrow, just a little. Hoseok waits.

“Is 500 meters enough?” she asks, directly.

“A couple kilometers would be better,” Hoseok says. He looks at the map of the mountain behind Kim Binna, rather than make eye contact. She’s very scary. “I understand it may be inconvenient.”

“The ground further up the mountain is more rocky.” Kim Binna says, “and installation will be harder—if there was something you could do—”

Getting it, Hoseok grins. She wants them up there anyway, but didn’t, for some reason, want to come out and ask him directly—probably so that he didn’t owe her a favour.

“I’m sure we can come up with something.” Hoseok says, “to make the rock a little easier to push through. It will still be difficult. As you know, inactive contact spells are—”

Kim Binna shrugs, cutting him off. “No one wants a fresh witch apprentice to explode a trillion won infrastructure project either,” she says. “My ward accepts the risk of having all the district witches—no disrespect, of course—so I’m sure I’ll be able to come to an agreement at our next meeting. So long as you all help out a bit with the construction issues.

“Of course,” Hoseok says. He didn’t like Kim Binna when he arrived, but now he sort of admires her practicality. She’s not direct, necessarily, but she is pragmatic. She's also sort of predictable, now that he knows her a little better.

“Excellent,” she says. “That’s all then, I think, unless you have anything for me.”

“No,” Hoseok says. “No news.”

“You are monitoring for any earthquake like disturbances,” she says. It’s not a question. “I assume you are no further in discovering what caused the first one?”

“I have to admit that it hasn’t taken up too much of my time,” Hoseok says, “Between training my apprentices and my other responsibilities—”

“It’s not a priority,” she says. “I’ll be asked, is all. The scientists have no explanation for it, but if the district won’t find the funds to support another witch full time, there is only so much we can ask of you.”

“I’ll try and sneak some time in,” Hoseok offers.

“If you can it would be appreciated,” she says, but he can see that she’s already moved on. Her gaze is already drifting towards her monitor in a dismissal.

“Thank you for your time, Kim Binna-nim,” Hoseok says. He stands, bows, and slips quickly out the door.

There’s a missed call from Sooyeon on his phone when he gets into the car. Hoseok checks the time, and then sits in the parking lot to call her back. He tries not to be home too late, but it’s not long enough that Jimin will start to worry.

“Hoseok-ah” she says, when she picks up the phone. “Perfect! I just called you,”

“I know, Auntie.” Hoseok says, laughing a little. “I saw the missed call.”

“Oh right,” she says, and then “our Seokjin said you wanted to know if Taehyung could help out on the farm.”

“Yes, auntie.” Hoseok says. “He’s showing some interest in gardening and farming.”

“There’s not much to do in the fall,” she warns, “and it’ll mostly be boring. Lots of prep work, other than the strawberries, and at this point that’s just a little weeding, until they ripen.”

“That’s okay,” Hoseok says. “Slow work’ll be good for him. He’s impatient.”

She snorts. “So he’ll be annoying.”

“You know Taehyungie, Auntie, that’s why I wanted to ask you, not just Seokjin-ssi. It’s not like he won’t be a hard worker.” There is a patter of rain on the roof of his car, and he flips on the overhead light. He should really clean up the garbage in here.

“I might—” a pause. “I might ask Seokjin to help him, actually. If that’s alright. He knows what he's doing—he’ll make sure Taehyung learns.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says. He feels a brief pang of—something. He thinks of the curve of Seokjin’s smile in pale light of the barn that morning, before anyone else was awake. Imagines a version of events where he kept Seokjin’s shoulders and the curve of his lips to himself without ever sharing. It would be selfish, though. Taehyung deserves to learn, and if Seokjin is the best way for that to happen, that's how it will have to be. “That’s fine. Maybe we could come over to talk about it? Figure out hours, and stuff?”

“Of course,” Sooyeon says. “I’ll give your number to Jin. You two can coordinate.”

“That sounds perfect,” Hoseok says.

 

Seokjin texts to suggest that Hoseok and Taehyung come by on the weekend, so Hoseok leaves Jimin and Jungkook to homework and takes Taehyung to the farm the next Saturday morning. The sun is bright, making it unseasonably warm.

Hoseok has gotten over his brief spout of selfishness and feels bright and hopeful to match the weather. This will work, he thinks. Taehyung will learn something, more than Hoseok can teach, which is mostly just the standard things—drawing and basic textiles and spoken spells—and dance. It’ll be good.

Seokjin is waiting for them outside when they arrive, dressed once again in a neat wool coat and sturdy jeans. Hoseok, despite himself, spent a little more time than usual picking out his outfit, as if to make up for the embarrassment of their first meeting—a big and loose coat, and a cute hat that folds down the tops of his ears. He looks good, he thinks. Cute. At least it’s not sweatpants.

“Wah, hyung,” Taehyung breathes, when he sees Seokjin. “He’s so handsome. Is that why you were so fussy before we left?”

Hoseok frowns. “I wasn’t fussy,” he begins, but Taehyung is already out of car, waving brightly and yelling a hello, before immediately repeating himself about how handsome Seokjin is at top volume. At least that’s all he repeats.

Hoseok gets out of the car a little more slowly. “He’ll be your teacher,” he reminds Taehyung. “Please be respectful.”

It falls on deaf ears, through. Seokjin’s squeaky laugh rings out instead. “Thank you!” He tells Taehyung. “It’s a gift of course, to be this handsome, but I try not to use my powers for evil.” He pouts his lips, posing cutely.

Taehyung grins, clearly sensing that Seokjin will not be a particularly strict teacher. “Thank you, seonsaeng-nim,” he says, “please take care of me!”

“Oh no,” Seokjin says, looking a little horrified. “I’m not a teacher—you can just call me Jin-hyung, if we’re going to spending time together. The younger trainees at my old job used to call me that.”

“Jin-hyung,” Taehyung repeats. Seokjin turns to Hoseok.

“Hoseok-ssi,” he says, “I’m glad to see you again.” Unfortunately, he seems even more handsome in person than Hoseok remembers. He can feel himself helplessly smiling again as he watches Seokjin take him in—his giant fluffy coat and folded up ears. Thank goodness he did take some care in getting ready, even if Taehyung, and therefore probably Jimin and Jungkook too, saw straight through him.

“Seokjin-ssi,” he says. “Thank you very much for your help.”

“I thought maybe you and Taehyung could tell me a little bit about what witches need to know about gardening, and then I could show you around,” Seokjin offers. “I’m not sure what time you have, Taehyung, if you’re still in school, but then maybe we can figure out when you can come over?”

“I’m on a reduced classwork schedule, since I’m an apprentice witch,” Taehyung says. “No one wants our magic boiling over and turning some classmate into a frog, so Jiminie and Jungkookie and I only go three times a week.”

“He won’t turn anyone into a frog” Hoseok says, immediately. He doesn’t know how familiar Seokjin is with witches. “Transmutation is so complex it’s almost impossible to do on purpose and it’s almost never worth it. He won’t do it by accident, and it also won’t last after the spell is completed.”

“Oh well,” Seokjin says, amiable. “That’s sort of a shame. It might be neat to try out life as a frog—but I suppose we shouldn’t deprive the world of this face.” He smiles at Hoseok, then takes on a formal tone, and sketches a quick bow towards Taehyung. “Taehyung-ssi, I would very much appreciate it if I remained human after all our lessons.”

Taehyung giggles. “Of course, seonsaeng-nim,” he says, bowing back. “I shall do my best.”

“So,” Seokjin begins, after a moment where he and Taehyung appear to have been communicating primarily through making odd faces at each other. “Is there specific stuff that will be helpful for magic? I’ve not worked closely with witches before, so I’m not sure what you need to know.”

“It’s just the basic stuff, really,” Hoseok says, feeling Seokjin’s focus narrow onto him. Taehyung’s eyes are flicking between him and Seokjin, which feels dangerous.

It’s just basic conversation, but he can tell the tone of his voice is a little more flirty than formal, his face sunny and bright, and Seokjin is matching him. He doesn’t know if it’s just that Seokjin does that, responding just to Hoseok’s energy and tone—he certainly seems to be matching Taehyung’s energy, when his attention is on him—or if Hoseok’s interest is matched as well.

“Planting, and harvesting would be good,” Hoseok says. “We—witches don’t need to manage a farm or anything, but a small garden would be helpful. I can keep some herbs, but honestly sometimes I even manage to kill mint, so your expertise would be much appreciated.”

Seokjin’s eyebrows raise. “Well,” he says. “The mint is impressive, I will admit. Taehyung, is there anything in particular you’re interested in?”

“Not for magic,” Taehyung says. “I like to eat most things, but I’m bad with spicy food, so I guess I don’t want to grow chili peppers.”

“Do you have to...eat it, to do magic?” Seokjin says, and Hoseok shrugs.

“We might,” he says, while Taehyung tries claim that it’s not allowed for witches to share their secrets.

They decide that Taehyung should come by twice a week, that Seokjin will focus more on quick growing greens that they can grow in the greenhouse, which “don’t grow that great even in the greenhouse in the winter, but it’s the best we’ve got” and maybe some farmed mushrooms, which “grow in the back of a closet, so long as they’ve got food, so it might be more useful for magic if it works year round”, and that Taehyung will help the strawberry season and then with planning for spring planting the rest of the time.

Taehyung seems happy enough with this decision, poking at the piles of oyster mushrooms growing out of an old log curiously and asking about the cows and the chickens.

“I don’t think that’s in the curriculum,” Seokjin says, glancing at Hoseok, who shrugs.

“Garden’s traditional,” he says. “If you need the help, though, and there’s the time, he can help out.”

“We’ll see,” Seokjin says.

“Jin-hyung,” Taehyung says, “How come you know all this? Did you take it in school? Did you work on a farm?”

“Ah, no,” Seokjin says. “I used to come here every summer to stay with Sooyeon and Jihun, and I learned from them a lot, and I spent a year here before I went university. That would have been before you all came here, though. I always kept a little garden, too, when I was in Seoul, just herbs and things.”

“Yeah, I grew up on the other side of the mountain, and Hyung was raised in the Seoul,” Taehyung says. “You might know our Jungkook, through. He grew up in town.”

“Ah, little Jeon Jungkookie?” Seokjin says. Of course. Seokjin has family here, unlike Hoseok. He was always going to be connected to more than Hoseok. He might not have grown up on the mountain, but he has roots here.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, “he manifested almost nine months ago. His parents came home to all the furniture floating ‘cause he got a bad grade on a test.”

Seokjin laughs. “Well, tell him Jin-hyung says hi, then. I’ll have to come by sometime, if you’ve got a house of my dongsaengs, Hoseok-ssi.”

“Hoseokie-hyung’s probably your dongsaeng too, Jin-hyung,” Taehyung says. “He’s only twenty-four.”

Hoseok wrinkles his nose at Taehyung, who wrinkles back. “Only,” he says. “Older than you, Taehyung-ah”

“I’m twenty-six,” Seokjin says, “so I suppose that’s right, you can call me Jin-hyung too, Hoseok, if you want.”

Hoseok can feel himself blushing, which is terrible because Taehyung can still see him.

“Alright, then, Jin-hyung,” he says, “I suppose I could manage that.”

Seokjin grins at him. “Good,” he says, grandly. “That’s all I can ask for, I suppose.”

“It’ll be nice to have a hyung around, I’ve been bereft.” Hoseok says. He turns to Taehyung, teasing. “I spend all my time herding these babies around, so—”

“Hey!” Taehyung says, “We’re not babies. Well, Jungkookie maybe a little, but not Jiminie and me.”

“Maybe not Jiminie,” Hoseok says, to make Taehyung pout and Seokjin laugh.

“Well,” Seokjin says. “I am happy to help you escape from the clutches of your only sort of teenage babies.”

“You could save me a lot, hyung” Hoseok says, laughing. “My schedule is pretty free, honestly! Lots of time for hyung.”

The schedule thing is a lie. He’s insanely busy, but he thinks that maybe—if Seokjin wanted it—he would try and make time.

“I’ll have to save you only on occasion, of course.” Seokjin says. “Can’t go taking you away too much! I’m not getting the sense they would be particularly happy without enough hyung time.” Hoseok is taken aback for a moment, but then he feels Taehyung inching closer to him, almost pressed against his side, and realizes that Seokjin’s been paying attention to Taehyung even when Hoseok wasn’t.

“Perhaps not,” Hoseok says. He reaches out to touch Taehyung’s back, soothing. Seokjin is handsome and kind, and Taehyung clearly likes him, but still—Hoseok’s been taking care of Taehyung for longer. He bites back a smile. “Thank you, Jin-hyung. I’m really glad you’re willing to take the time to help us with this.”

“Yes, thank you Jin-hyung,” Taehyung echoes. He’s still pressed to Hoseok’s side, but not as tight. “I’ll work hard.”

Hoseok can’t quite pull his eyes away from Seokjin’s face, even though he won’t quite make eye contact with him.

Seokjin waves a hand. “It’s no problem,” he says. “Happy to have more young people around here. I’m usually only making friends with uncles in this town.”

He walks them to the car, clapping Taehyung on the shoulder. “I’ll see you Tuesday, Taehyung-ah,” he says. “Wear something sturdy.”

“Yes, hyung,” Taehyung chirps, and bends to say goodbye to Muppet, who’s been let out of the house to come greet them.

Seokjin reaches out to touch Hoseok’s elbow, gently, where Taehyung can’t see. Hoseok can feel a slight shiver ripple up his spine.

I’ll text you? he mouths, and Hoseok nods, grinning and bubbly.

“Bye hyung,” Hoseok says. It comes out a little quiet, soft. “Taehyung-ah, let’s go.”

“Bye Jin-hyung, bye Muppet,” Taehyung says.

Taehyung waits until the car has made it to the end of the driveway before he turns to Hoseok.

“Well.” He says, like it’s a complete sentence, and waits.

“What,” Hoseok says.

“He’s very handsome,” Taehyung says. He pauses. “And he likes you.” Hoseok waits, focusing on driving as they make their way up the twists and turns of the road. “Do you like him?”

“Taehyung-ah, I’ve met him twice,” Hoseok says. “Yes, he’s very handsome, and I do—you’re right that I wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with someone a little closer to my age.” He glances at Taehyung. “I don’t know if you’re right that he likes me—he probably just wants to spend time with someone who isn’t his aunt and uncle.” Taehyung is biting his lip. “I wouldn’t mind spending more time with him. Is that okay?”

Taehyung shrugs. They’re almost home.

“Is it not okay?” Hoseok asks. Another shrug, and then a pause.

“I dunno,” Taehyung says, finally, as they pull into the driveway. “It’s—we’re just your apprentices, right? I don’t think it matters.”

“Well, maybe not,” Hoseok says. He puts the car in park and then turns off the engine. It’s late afternoon, so the sun has set and it’s all grey out, but he almost wishes it was darker, that he and Taehyung could have this conversation in the cover of nightfall. “But you’re a big part of my life, and you live with me.”

“You won’t like, stop spending time with us though, right?” Taehyung says, finally. “It’s okay if Seokjin likes you, and you like him, and I want you to be happy and I know you called us babies, but we’re almost grown-ups, Jimin and I are eighteen, really, but, like—I just think Jungkookie would be sad, if he didn’t get to see you as much.”

Hoseok laughs. “Oh, Jungkookie would be sad, would he?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Taehyung responds.

“Well,” Hoseok says. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to make Jungkookie sad. Or you and Jiminie.”

Taehyung lets out a sigh. “Well, that’s okay then, I guess,” he says.

The door opens, Jimin outlined in the bright light that spill out from the outside.

“Why are you still in the car?” He yells. “Come inside, it’s time to make dinner!”

These kids. Hoseok cracks his door open to yell back that they’re coming.

“Well hurry up!” Jimin calls, and then the door slams. Hoseok laughs, and looks at Taehyung, who looks more relaxed.

“Come on,” Hoseok says. “We can’t keep Jiminie waiting, right?”

“Right,” Taehyung says, and gets out of the car.

Hoseok still pulls him close to his side as they walk towards the house. Taehyung lets him.

 

“I think you could dance this pattern, through,” Jimin says, tracing the lines of the spell in front of him. “Hyung’s so controlled.”

It’s late evening. Dinner was chaotic, Taehyung reassured enough to breathlessly gossip about how nice and hot Seokjin was, and how much he liked Hoseok. Hoseok wonders if Taehyung will tell the others what they talked about in the car, if he’s willing to admit to that insecurity with them in private. He’s not sure. Jungkook, at least, remembered Seokjin, admitting quietly that he was a very fun hyung, and that he used to give Jungkook piggyback rides around the farm when he was little, which makes Hoseok melt a little bit inside. He bets that would have been adorable.

Now, Taehyung and Jungkook are playing a game in the other room, and Jimin’s practicing his perception spells at the table while Hoseok cleans the kitchen.

Hoseok shakes his head. “I could,” he admits, “and honestly with a little more training, you probably could too, but I would still draw it.”

Jimin frowns. “But there’s so much more kinetic energy when you dance patterns rather than draw them—what if you needed to see really far? Or needed to expand all your senses, not just one?”

“In most cases, you don’t want to expand all your senses like that—and the more energy you have flowing through you, the more likely it is that you will lose track of where it’s coming from. You know the risk of dancing, rather than drawing or speaking spells.”

“Cause the energy comes from me—but that’s the same thing with drawing, really. I’m still moving the pen across the paper. My muscles are less engaged, sure, but it’s not like I’m not the source of the mechanical energy. That’s why it only works so long as you are tracing the pattern.”

Sometimes, Hoseok wishes Jimin were less clever. He wishes that he had a real coven. That Nam—well, Yoongi, was here to help teach, if only he had finished his training. Even Yoongi would have been better at this sort of thing, these intellectual explanations. Hoseok isn’t smart, not like that. He’d always just felt things out.

“But there are all those tools you use with drawing. There is energy is the pen, in the ink—even in the resistance of the paper. It’s less you—and it’s less powerful.”

“And the more powerful it is, the easier for a spell to start yanking on your life force,” Jimin finishes. “And if you’ve majorly upped your ability to see, and you are like, looking at an island 200 kilometers away...”

“Pretty easy not to notice. It ups perception, not how much you can pay attention to.”

“Ugh,” Jimin says. “I knew magic wasn’t like, simple or anything, but that energy thing is a pain. Why does it have to be channeled through something living like that? How have witches not solved that? It all comes from the sun, which is like—right there!”

“Jimin.” Hoseok can tell his voice is a little hard. He doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t want to scare him. Still. There is a reason that graduation rates for witches are low, that he and Yoongi and Namjoon aren’t a coven, the way they’d planned. There is a reason Jimin always stays with Hoseok, doesn’t go home see his family for Chuseok the way Taehyung and Jungkook do. “Witches have tried. They die or go insane. Please don’t repeat those mistakes.”

Jimin’s spine straightens. Hoseok wants to look away. He could, right? He supposed to be doing the dishes. It would be okay to look away. Jimin’s so clever.

He’s not even that much younger than Hoseok, only five years. As much as he’s like, Hoseok’s baby, he’s growing up a lot.

Jimin’s seen shit.

Jimin knows this stuff is dangerous.

It’s okay, that he can see Hoseok.

“Okay, hyung,” Jimin says, and his voice is gentle. “I won’t, I promise.”

Hoseok breathes out, a little gasp, and looks at the plates in the sink again. He doesn’t know what Jimin can see on his face.

“What about growing and cooking it?” Jimin says. “Like Taehyungie will learn with Seokjin. That would be ideal, right, you have living things involved, but not just you? A potion can last a little longer than the cast—oh wait, but then you need physical contact.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, and if his voice trembles a little, Jimin takes pity on him. “But, maybe—if you like, drank it, it would work. Of course, for best results, you’d grow them in the pattern, so even if you cooked with like, pea shoots, that’s some significant planning and lead time. Plus, the faster things grow the more likely they are to get outside of the pattern, by accident. Then you have to start over.”

Jimin sighs and goes back to practicing. Hoseok chews his lip. It happened years ago, now. It’s not that he should be over it, but he can’t—he shouldn’t be freezing up about this. Not in front of the kids, not in front of Jimin, who knows the consequences of uncontrolled magic even better than Hoseok, really.

What happened to Hoseok isn’t exceptional, not really. Most people who train in larger covens have experience losing at least one classmate.

It's just that those people didn’t lose Namjoon, is the thing. Hoseok maybe wasn’t special, but Namjoon was—top of their class, most promising witch in almost a decade. Doesn’t that make Hoseok and Yoongi special, if only by association?

His phone, face up on the kitchen table, buzzes. He looks over. It’s Seokjin.

Hoseok-ah! The message reads. Come have a drink with hyung? When are you free?

Tomorrow is Sunday. Maybe Hoseok shouldn’t be too eager, should suggest something later in the week, but there is an itch under his skin, and Sunday is a good, quiet day; Hoseok could leave the kids alone for a couple hours.

Sure. He sends back. Dinner and drinks tomorrow? We can get barbeque.

There. That’s good. Maybe he just—needs a friend. Or more, if Taehyung is to be believed.

It’ll be good for him.