When the clock strikes twelve, most would imagine a scene to the whimsical tune of Cinderella to play. In reality, it's quite the opposite. You see, when both the big and little hands meet at the number twelve and the phantom chimes ring throughout the city, something, or rather some things much more... devious make themselves known.
Not so coincidentally, a trained eye might be able to catch the stark white Open sign of a certain little shop on a certain famous street tucked into a certain little corner of Gangnam-gu flicker to life.
“Hyung! Are we ready to go?” a pleasant, tinkling voice calls. The owner of this voice can't be seen right now, as he has yet to emerge from a room marked Employees Only in the back of our infamous little shop.
“Go ahead!” Another voice replies, belonging to a handsome man seated behind a chic desk near the front of the shop.
On the outside, you might find yourself feeling lightheaded. A little hazy, perhaps? If you looked quickly enough, you might see the last smoky tendrils of a fully furnished building fading into nothing. Now, there's just an empty space.
If you're human, that is.
The dim lights of the large blue sign fronting the loopy cursive Live or Dye slowly morph into the blood red, more modern font of Blood, Sweat, and Shears.
Inside, five men scurry around the space to get things in proper shape before the first customer arrives. In the middle of those six is one more, small and compact with sparks shooting from his fingertips. The dust in the air around him floats at a standstill, and when he looks up, vines of sparkling warmth wind around the skin of his face and arms. Behind him, translucent wings flutter.
Then, he exhales, and the aura is gone. He wipes the palm of his hands on his black jeans and beams at the man behind the counter.
“Excellent as always, Jimin,” the man comments, sending him a thumbs up.
Jimin’s smile grows wider, if possible. “Thanks, Jin-hyung! It's getting easier and easier now. It used to take forever to do the entire shop! You should really pay me more.”
He's swatted on the head by another man passing by. The friction brings strands of his baby pink hair to stand on end, making him look like a ball of wispy candy floss. “That would mean paying us all more. This shop makes more than enough to do that, but Jin is stingy.”
Whatever he was hit with falls to the floor and he scrunches his nose up at the artificial metallic smell that rises when the thing hits the ground.
“Hoseok, please refrain from dumping your blood bags on the floor,” a disgusted voice chastises before Jimin can. Hoseok throws a tube of hair dye at the lanky man, but it just passes through him and hits the window. He sighs, bending down to pick up the smelly, offending item to chuck it in the trash.
“Careful Namjoon-hyung, you know how he gets when you call it real blood,” another employee calls from the door. Jimin instantly brightens at the sight of Taehyung, his best friend. Taehyung sees this and laughs. “Hiiii. I'm happy to see my advice helped! You took the barrier down twice as fast as yesterday.”
Jimin hums to himself quietly as he walks over to tidy his station. They'd had more customers than usual earlier, and he still has to sweep up some hair and take a few brushes over to the washing station in the back room.
He grabs his apron on the way and knocks twice on the door in the back of the shop as a warning and enters with bated breath.
He never knows what Yoongi is up to in here. After the chicken incident, he'd rather be safe than sorry.
The back is Jimin’s favorite place in the shop. It's not only for the...company here, but he loves looking at all of the cool stuff they create in store. Everything is organized perfectly, down to the letter. There's an island in the middle of the room with various equipment: bubbling pots and pans, herbs steeping in cauldrons, and a simmering mix of sparkling slime that gives off the scent of berries.
Despite having all of his ingredients labeled properly and kept up to date, Jimin’s hyung still manages to make a mess when it comes down to the work itself. Jimin avoids a puddle of sizzling goo on the floor and quietly makes his way to the figure hunched over a table in the corner. He can see tufts of silky black hair peeking out of a worn grey beanie. When he's close enough to speak, he's startled by a snore.
Fast asleep, as usual.
“Yoongi-hyung, I have some brushes here. Can you spell them after I wash them please?”
“Hyunnngggg,” Jimin whines, poking the man’s cheek. “Wake up, it's almost time for customers to start coming in.”
Yoongi groans in his sleep and a bottle shifts to their left. Jimin reaches out just in time to catch a vial from crashing into and breaking on the floor. When he reads the label, he shudders. Serpent’s Tongue .
There's a damp sensation on his leg and Jimin leans down to scratch the ears of the big black wolf he knows is there without looking. The animal huffs and sits at Jimin’s feet, waiting.
“Hold on Kookie,” Jimin soothes offhandedly. “I have to wake hyung up, customers will be arriving soon.”
The wolf whines. Kookie huffs and plops down on his belly, closing his eyes to have a rest himself.
“Not you too! I know you guys are tired, but we only have one more shift!”
Jimin doesn't get a response from either party.
He sighs, dumping the pile of mixing brushes and dye bowls onto the table next to the other. “Just remember that you made me do this.”
Jimin closes his eyes and concentrates. He can feel the glamour around him fading a bit, as it usually does when he uses his magic, and concentrates his power into his fingertips. His hands buzz with the current flowing through them, and with a roar he tackles Yoongi, digging his fingers into the witch’s sides.
The impact throws Yoongi from his chair and sends the both of them careening into the floor. A few vials and beakers that were near the end of the island topple off the edge and crash into the ground.
Yoongi awakes with a shriek that he'll probably deny ever producing to his grave and scowls at Jimin. Jimin smiles sweetly in return.
“Rise and shine, hyung!”
The wolf gives a non-threatening growl and snips lightly in their direction.
“Oh shut up , Jungkook. You never help me with these things so I have to do them myself,” Jimin grumbles petulantly.
Jimin squeaks as he feels himself being lifted until he's suspended in the air, hovering. Yoongi still scowls at him as he takes his time standing up and brushing himself off.
“No one told you to zap me with your dumb fairy magic!” Yoongi growls. He turns Jimin to an upright position and lets him down with a flick of his fingers. “Why can't you just wake me up normally like a normal person?”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “That would mean that both me and you are normal people. Which we aren't. Normal. Or people. Especially you.”
“Whatever,” Yoongi mumbles. He plucks the beanie off of his head and ruffles his hair, sighing. Jimin sort of feels bad now. If he knew Yoongi was that tired then he wouldn't have woken him so abruptly.
“Sorry hyung,” Jimin whispers. Yoongi laughs quietly to himself and shakes his head. “If you want I can leave you alone until clients come in.”
Yoongi shakes his head in refusal and stretches. “What did you need?”
Jimin perks up, stepping over to grab the bowls and brushes he set on the table earlier. “I'm going to wash these and I need you to spell them before customers start coming in. Can't risk cross contamination and all that.”
Yoongi waves him off to go about his business and so Jimin scurries over to the sink in the corner of the room and scrubs the brushes until they're squeaky clean and wipes the bowls until there's no residue left.
After he's finished, he hands them off to Yoongi and watches in curious fascination as the witch mumbles words in a language he can't understand underneath his breath. Crystal particles rise from the utensils and then dissipate into smoke.
“I love it when you do that,” Jimin says in awe. Yoongi smiles a small smile, just for Jimin, and shrugs.
“Dunno why. You're a fairy. It's not like you've never seen magic before.”
“But it's different . My magic is just physical things like glamour and maybe the occasional wish being granted. You have actual spells with recipes and stuff, hyung,” Jimin argues.
Yoongi shrugs again. “The principle is the same. Magic is magic.”
Jimin huffs and collects the tools once more. “If you say so, hyung. I have to go finish setting up my station.”
He walks towards the door, giving a thanks to Jungkook who nudges it open with his muzzle, but he's stopped by a timid call.
Jimin stops and looks over his shoulder, to where Yoongi stands. He's hunched over himself and twiddling his thumbs. His cheeks are red and dare Jimin say...nervous?
“Uh. Would you like to...um, shit.”
“Hyung?” Jimin asks in confusion.
Yoongi runs a slightly shaky hand through his hair and bites his lip. “I was--I was wondering if you'd like to go with me--”
“JIMIN! FIVE MINUTES!”
That would be Hoseok.
Jimin purses his lips and gives Yoongi as much of an apology as he can convey with a smile. “I'm sorry hyung. Can you ask me whatever it is later?”
Yoongi looks pained as he nods yes. Jimin bows and bends down to give one last scratch to Jungkook’s ears before speed walking across the shop to set up his station.
Tonight, they have a huge order. A kitsune turning 200 is a huge deal, as that's when it is custom to reveal their tailed form after the appearance of the second tail. But this isn't just any Kitsune’s birthday, this is Hiari Momo’s , one of the nine daughters of one of the most influential gumiho of all time: Park Jinyoung.
Not only does the crew have to style the main lady to perfection for the event, they also have to style every one of her sisters and close friends.
To say there’s a huge stress on everything turning out perfectly is an understatement. It’s a pretty big fucking deal.
But Blood, Sweat, and Shears isn't one of the most notorious beauty bars in Seoul—otherworldly or otherwise—without reason.
Luckily, they'd been able to do everyone else in good time and the only person left is Momo herself.
Jimin turns the girl around with a flourish, revealing her new hair color. Momo gasps at the drastic change, eyes frantically roaming over the reflection of soft peach fading into cotton candy pink.
“Oh Inari!* I..I don't know what to say.”
“Well you said you wanted to step out of your comfort zone of blonde and brown, right?”
“Hoseok-san also did a great job on the cut,” Momo praises.
“I think this color fits you well.”
Before, her hair fell in soft layers down to the middle of her back. Now, it’s cut in a blunt shoulder length blunt bob with a gradient color. Momo nods enthusiastically at Jimin’s comment.
Jimin removes the cape from around Momo’s shoulders and sends her off to Namjoon, who will style her.
Once she's out of earshot, he groans tiredly and massages a sore spot on his neck.
“God and this is just the consultation and practice run,” Jimin moans. “What’s it gonna be like on the night of?”
“I'll sweep, you take these back to Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok offers. Jimin nods tiredly and accepts the scissors and comb Hoseok thrusts into his hands and adds them to his own pile of used materials. “Also Jin-hyung said he needed Jungkook to help him with something, so let him know.”
Jimin collects everything in his arms and trudges to the back room, not even bothering to knock before entering. He passes Jungkook on his way through the doors and passes on what Hoseok told him, looking away out of respect when Jungkook shifts and jogs to the front desk to talk to Seokjin.
Yoongi is mixing something together in a pot and loading it into a tube when Jimin’s eyes fall on him. Judging by the color and smell, it's a base for wolf dye.
Ah, no wonder Jungkook was so eager to get away. The base for any werewolf hair color always contains a little bit of wolfsbane.
(“ The motherfuckers have stubborn hair. Gotta make the pigment penetrate somehow.” - Min Yoongi, certified genius)
It’s not too much, definitely not enough to harm anyone, but Jungkook steers clear of any recipes involving it, and with good reason.
“Hey hyung,” Jimin greets tiredly. He walks past Yoongi without saying much else and sets off to wash the things he and Hoseok used.
It's been a long week. Business is going well--which is great, it really is because more business means more money going into Jimin’s paycheck--and it’s taking a toll on Jimin’s general homeostasis. Working the day shift and the night shift has its downfalls, he guesses.
All he wants right now is his bed, his cat, and maybe a certain elusive witch to pet his hair and take pity on him.
He sighs tiredly and rotates his neck, shoulders sore from having his arms up all night.
It's calm for a minute, with Jimin finally rinsing the bowls and dye brushes out and Yoongi stirring whatever magical concoctions he has bubbling in various pots.
Then, he hears Yoongi shuffling around. The sound of pages turning echoes throughout the mostly quiet room and Jimin hums. This isn't out of the ordinary, considering his job, so Jimin doesn't pay any mind to it. That is, until he feels unnaturally warm hands applying pressure to either side of his neck.
“Sorry,” Yoongi apologizes sheepishly at Jimin's surprised squeal. “You’re kind of tense so I figured you needed a pick me up.”
And oh, this is strange, very strange.
Yoongi isn't necessarily standoffish, but he doesn't purposefully go out of his way to make someone feel better unless it's something serious. At least not directly.
Very strange indeed.
“Oh,” Jimin says as an echo of his thoughts because oh indeed. His eyes shut and he can feel the knots at the base of his neck and the tension in his back melt away with ease.
He lets his entire body relax and enjoys it for what it is because it's not often that the man he's been pining after touches him like this.
His eyes pop open.
It's not often that the man he's been pining after touches him like this .
Suddenly, Jimin is too aware of his own body. Does he look okay? Is his hair messed up? Is his nape hairy? What if he's standing weird? Do guys even care about those types of things on other guys? Would Yoongi even take notice of these things or is Jimin just freaking out over nothing?
Heat creeps up the back of Jimin's neck and seeps into his ears. He really hops Yoongi won't notice it. It's a struggle trying not to tense up again and not to make any weird noises because attractive man I've been crushing on has hands on my body help.
He can't take it anymore.
He awkwardly turns around in a rush with a very stilted thanks on his lips, but whatever he was going to say dies on his tongue at the look of pure awe he's met with.
“Hyung?” Jimin questions, voice small. He scratches his arm and looks away. That look makes him uncomfortable, but in the best way.
Yoongi clears his throat awkwardly. “Nothing, it’s just.”
“Your glamour. It...your glamour faded,” he chokes out. Jimin’s cheeks explode with a heat that he hopes isn’t too visible, and he whips his head up in shock.
Jimin chooses to keep up the facade most of the time. He knows that it’s kind of strange to cloak himself during the night shift, when it’s safe for them to show their true colors, but that’s just how Jimin is.
Growing up around humans has made him more comfortable posing as one of them, he guesses. He knows that sometimes his true form makes people uncomfortable, normal, supernatural, and the like, so an apology forms on his tongue.
He’s distracted though, because Yoongi is distracted. His hyung is looking past him, to where Jimin knows his wings are, fluttering softly and swirling up the residue of whatever magic Yoongi has been working with.
When he registers the attention, his wings begin to beat harder, creating a soft breeze that smells of fairy dust and warm summer days.
Yoongi tracks the movement with his eyes.
“You can touch them, if you want,” Jimin blurts out.
Yoongi’s eyes snap to his in shock and Jimin kind of wants to melt into a puddle of magical fairy goo and never show his face ever again.
This is a big deal. Like, a big deal.
Fairies are very prickly when it comes to their wings.
(Fairies are prickly in general, but that’s not important right now.)
Not just anyone gets permission to lay their hands on a fairy’s most prized possession, their most coveted artifact, one of their main sources of power.
Jimin doesn’t even let Taehyung touch his wings, and they’ve known each other for almost one hundred years.
Yoongi is very much aware of this.
Jimin wants to cry. How does one politely rescind their invitation of doing something extremely intimate that only lovers usually do? How does Jimin save himself from this situation?
Yoongi stares, wide-eyed with his mouth slightly open in shock, and then he nods.
Jimin’s throat runs dry; he gulps loudly and nods back.
Slowly, Jimin makes to turn around, but Yoongi stops him before he can. He places a warm hand on Jimin’s shoulder and gently holds him in place before stepping forward, into Jimin’s personal space.
They’re pretty much sharing breaths at this point, and Jimin is trying really hard not to freak out. Yoongi is so close to him, close enough that he can make out the normally indistinguishable difference between the deep brown of his iris and the black of his pupil. Jimin’s senses are invaded with a whiplash of scents; sandalwood and clover, some type of spice that makes him heady and a hint of something fresh that reminds Jimin of back home.
His heart drums a rhythm in his chest, quick and light, his traitorous wings quivering something similar, the two bouncing off of each other in a fast paced melody.
He’s mortified when he feels himself lift a millimeter from the ground.
There’s not much Jimin can do about his wings, but he really hopes Yoongi can’t feel his heartbeat.
Yoongi reaches forward with the hand not on his shoulder and traces a single finger along one of the veins.
Jimin shudders, pushing down a giggle at the ticklish sensation.
Less cautious, Yoongi lets his hand follow the shape of his wings, tracing the various dips and swirls along the surface of the membrane.
He looks concentrated, completely focused on the task at hand and the sight makes something warm shimmer in Jimin’s belly. He clenches his fists, feeling the crackle of the magic resonating within him, a helpless response to his emotions and being in such close proximity with another magic user.
“I like them,” Yoongi murmurs. He leans forward and his hands trail across the area closest to Jimin’s back, his fingers brushing against the skin peeking through the slits of Jimin’s sweater. “They’re warm. I thought they would be cold, but they’re pulsing.”
Jimin bites his lip. They’re pulsing in time with Jimin’s heartbeat, but he won’t let Yoongi know that.
“And soft. They feel like skin.”
He looks at Jimin now, the hand leaving his shoulder to cup his jaw and stroke his thumb across a warm cheek.
He nods to himself. “Exactly the same. They’re very nice, Jimin-ah. Thank you for showing me.”
Jimin nods, unable to trust himself not to make an embarrassing noise if he opens his mouth. His skin is burning, his blood simmering with the magic beneath the surface.
“Really. They’re beautiful. I wish you’d show them more,” he praises.
And Jimin, bless his soul, his poor, easily flustered soul. He can’t help it, not really, when then the magic he’s been trying to contain bursts forth. He smiles brightly, almost blindingly, and his wings let out a torrent of fairy dust, piling at their feet and swirling around them with the force of the gentle breeze those very same wings create.
His jaw drops a little in shock, and he covers his face with his hands. Yoongi steps back a little, which Jimin takes a second to pout over, before the embarrassment is back tenfold.
He hates being a fairy. Jimin really, really hates being a fairy sometimes.
He takes a peek, wanting to see the damage, and immediately covers his face again with a groan.
“Oh my god. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, hyung.”
His usually chic and grumpy faced hyung is covered from head to toe in sparkling gold dust, some of it catching in patches on his skin and clothes. It coats his eyelashes and makes him sneeze a little, but that only seems to make more settle on him.
He coughs and takes another step back—which no, no, come back, Jimin whines internally—and shakes his head.
He looks a mess and Jimin doubts he looks much better.
“It’s okay,” he says after another quick cough. “You’re— it’s , it’s pretty,” he stammers. “Really really pretty. I don’t mind.”
Jimin blushes and smiles again, so broad and wide that it’s kind of painful. Yoongi whispers something to himself and with a quick wave of his hand, all of the dust floats into the air in one big cloud and deposits itself in an empty jar on his work surface. At Jimin’s incredulous look, he shrugs.
“Fairy dust is a rare and important ingredient. Might as well take advantage of the situation.”
Jimin snorts at his silly antics and puts his glamour back up. He’ll come back for the bowls later, when his skin isn’t still buzzing and his cheeks aren’t as red.
He misses Yoongi reaching out to him in his haste to leave, eyes bright with a question on his tongue. The witch sighs and drops his hand, going back to check on the fragrant mixture of nightshade and rubus berries.
“I swear, if another changeling kid comes in here asking me to style them with iron accessories, I’m gonna scream,” Namjoon groans. He goes to sit in one of the salon chairs but he falls right through, to the ground.
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “You better thank Yoongi for spelling the floor with that ghost entrapment. You’d be on your way to the pits of hell if it weren’t for him.”
Jimin snorts, grabbing an almost empty teacup of blood, a complimentary drink for a very friendly rokurokubi who complimented him on his color and asked for the same thing to be done to her.
Namjoon huffs and stands back up, sitting down delicately.
“I’ve never seen a ghost who constantly forgets he’s a ghost,” Jimin snickers. Namjoon rolls his eyes and turns his attention to Taehyung.
“Who even started that trend anyway?” Taehyung asks. “I’m all for breaking barriers and stuff, but that’s dangerous.”
Namjoon nods tiredly. “I’ve had to refuse so much service because of it.”
Hoseok makes his way to his station to gather his tools used for the night. On his way by, he pats Namjoon on the head.
“It’s okay, it’ll pass. It’s just a trend. Besides, Jin won’t dock your pay because of that.”
“Are you a vampire or a dragon, hyung? Always going on about money,” Taehyung sighs.
Instead of carrying on and going to the door in the back, Hoseok makes a beeline straight for Jimin. He all but dumps everything in Jimin’s arms and rips his apron off, sprinting out of the shop with some flimsy explanation about a date, leaving a flabbergasted fairy in his wake.
Jin laughs at Jimin behind his fancy desk stationed at the front of the shop because he’s a horrible boss and Jimin hates him.
“You’re a horrible boss and I hate you,” Jimin grumbles, dodging the folder chucked at him in retaliation. He sticks his tongue out at Jin and takes his merry self to the back room to where he won’t be teased.
He gently kicks the door with his foot and waits.
“Hyung?” Jimin calls, kicking the door gently again. Is Yoongi asleep? “Can you open the door for me? My hands are full.”
Which is strange, because even if Yoongi is asleep, usually Jungkook would get up and open the door.
He cranes his neck around to see if anyone else is witnessing this, but everyone is off doing their own thing, little odds and ends needed to prep the shop for closing. Jimin huffs and kicks the door again, a little harder this time.
There’s a scuffle behind the door, and then it’s being opened by Jungkook--or Kookie as he is now.
The wolf plops his furry butt right in front of the crack of the door, blocking Jimin’s way. Jimin narrows his eyes at him and tries to step over Kookie’s body, thinking he’s just being weird, but the wolf gently bites Jimin’s ankle before it can make contact with the ground.
It almost sends Jimin careening to the floor and he drops a pair of scissors.
“Kookie!” Jimin snaps. He squats down and manages to pick them up without falling and impaling himself on them or spilling everything onto the floor or anything catastrophic like that. Kookie paws at his leg in apology and moves out of the way.
Jimin nudges him with his foot, to show he’s not really that upset, and enters.
He’s not expecting to almost get bashed in the head with a flying cauldron.
He ducks out of the way just in time, following the thing with his eyes. It stops just before it hits the wall, and hovers. Jimin’s eyes fall to the center of the room, where an extremely ruffled Min Yoongi stands.
It’s then that he notices that almost everything in the room is floating, some things suspended in air, some things bobbing in place, and others lazily moving around.
“Um,” Jimin says dumbly. Yoongi sighs and runs a stained hand through his hair, leaving a trail of pink that JImin tries not to laugh at.
“Hey Jiminie,” he greets tiredly. He waves his hand around, gesturing the the general mess in the room. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just a test gone wrong.”
Jimin nods slowly, stepping further into the space now that he knows nothing is going to come flying at him again. Yoongi shakes his head and mutters a simple spell, and everything floating in the air settles itself back where it belongs.
“What were you even trying to do?” Jimin asks as he walks back over to the sink. “Are you working on that new hair bleach formula for ghouls?”
There’s an audible sigh. “No, this was something else.”
Jimin makes a soft noise of inquiry whilst he turns on the water and grabs the sponge and special soap.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Yoongi replies flippantly. Jimin is skeptical, but it’s fine. It’s not his business after all. When he’s finished, everything washed and dried and ready to go, he takes them over to Yoongi in order to purify them.
Now, Jimin’s not one to pry. He’ll usually be fine sitting next to someone reading and be able to press down the urge to look over their shoulder and snoop, but Yoongi looks particularly frustrated about something, and well, Jimin’s a fairy. Curiosity is in his nature.
Yoongi is absorbed in the text he’s reading, so Jimin discreetly leans over to take a peek.
It’s a spell of some sort, but he only gets as far as the ingredient list, a few things frantically underlined that Jimin can’t even begin to understand before Yoongi clears his throat and shuts the book abruptly.
Jimin, fearing he’s been caught, blinks wildly and whips his head around to face Yoongi, but the elder still has his eyes on the shut book.
“Sorry about that,” Yoongi says after a second. He shakes his head lightly. “I’ll do the thing, here.”
He beckons, gesturing to the supplies. Jimin, never one to hold his tongue, asks, “Hyung, what’s that spell you were working on?”
Yoongi kind of freezes up at the question, which is worrying, but at least he doesn’t tell Jimin to shut up and get out.
“Oh, it’s uh--it’s just something I’ve been working on for a while,” he replies. His tone is kind of stilted, awkward.
“What is it?” Jimin presses. “Maybe I can help?”
Yoongi purses his lips and looks down, away from Jimin’s gaze. “I don’t think you can. It’s the ingredients, not the magic itself.”
Jimin hums, cocking his head. Ingredients, huh? Yoongi is tight lipped after that, refusing to reveal anything more no matter how much Jimin begs. Yoongi pats his shoulder and pulls the materials toward himself, muttering his spell and watching as every speck of residue on the tools disappears in a poof.
He’s even nice enough to stack the bowls and put the combs and scissors into them for easier transport. Jimin bows, thanks him softly, and gathers his things, ready to go back out and put them where they go so that he can retire for the night.
“I need fire.”
Jimin looks up then, brows furrowed.
“Fire? Hyung, that makes no sense. You can make fire.”
Yoongi scrunches his face up and shakes his head, clarifying immediately. “Not just any fire. I need fire that comes from the blood of the gods.”
Jimin frowns. “Hyung, what type of things are you cooking up in here? You’re not going dark, are you?”
Yoongi looks at him like he’s crazy. Jimin sighs and shakes his head. Can Yoongi really blame him for asking? It sounds like a load of dark magic.
“Jimin-ah, please. I’m not doing anything bad, but I don’t know any gods and I’m certainly not on friendly terms with them. I asked Taehyung since he’s fae, but he isn’t pure enough ‘cause he’s only half,” Yoongi explains.
Ah, right. Faekind and gods go hand in hand, unfortunately.
Faekind and gods go hand in hand, unfortunately.
Technically, Jimin is faekind.
“Hyung,” Jimin says carefully. “Are you sure you’re not getting into some weird shit? This is sounding more and more dark as you go on. Borderline Warlock territory.”
Yoongi makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and turns on his heel. He grabs the book he was looking at and marches over to his shelf of various herbs and potions, growling, “Nevermind, Jimin-ah. Forget it.”
Jimin feels bad. He doesn’t even know why he just implied that. He knows Yoongi and he knows better than to be so careless with his words.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin says, chastising himself. That’s a sore subject and they both know it. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Yoongi sighs, grabbing a mason jar filled to the brim with chunks of amethyst and another holding a small vial of something glowing bright green. “It’s fine. I sound crazy, I know.”
He wants to scream. This is where being nosy gets Jimin, hurting feelings and in turn feeling like trash himself. He sets his bowls and combs back onto the surface of the island and timidly walks over to Yoongi.
“Hyung,” he calls, tapping him on the shoulder. He holds up a single finger and blows gently on it, watching the spark at his fingertip bloom into a flame, a violent violet shade that casts the room in a soft purple hue. His glamour has faded with the use of his magic, as he can feel a disturbance in the air from the soft fluttering of his wings. “Here.”
Yoongi turns, mouth open, but whatever he was going to say dies in his throat as round eyes focus on the sight in front of him.
“J-Jimin?” Yoongi croaks, his pupils reflecting the light of the flame. It makes him look ethereal, like a child of the heavens. “I thought you were a forest fairy. I..I’ve seen you make flowers bloom before.”
Jimin shakes his head, smiling. “No, hyung. My parents want me to be versed in all types of fairy magic but my gift is of the elements.”
“ Oh, ” is the breathy reply. “All elements?”
“No, just fire and sometimes lightning on a stormy day. My eomma is of the Flame of Forge and my dad is of the Sky. ‘swhy I spark.”
Sometimes Jimin forgets that his mother comes from a long line of fae blacksmiths. He should probably call her and ask how that’s going.
Yoongi blinks, still transfixed on the fire. Jimin waves his other hand in front of his face to get his attention. Yoongi clears his throat and holds up a finger before walking carefully past Jimin to grab something from the table he usually takes his naps at and scurries back over. Jimin sees that it’s a candle of some sort. He grabs a conveniently placed candle holder from the island on his way.
“May I?” he questions, gesturing to Jimin’s hand. He nods and Yoongi carefully wraps his fingers around the wrist of the hand containing the flame and gentle brings it near the wick, waiting a few seconds until the flame jumps from Jimin’s finger to sit proudly on the tip of the candle.
“This is a special candle,” Yoongi explains. The wick is made from the wool of a salamander and the wax comes from melting down the shells of hatched dragon eggs mixed with hardened phoenix saliva.”
He laughs at Jimin’s look of disgust.
“As long as I don’t blow it out, it’ll burn continuously,” he continues. Gently, he places the candle into the holder and says a quick spell, encasing the flame in a protective barrier. He sets it down on the island carefully.
Then, he pulls Jimin in for a hug.
“Thank you,” he whispers. His breath hits the exposed skin of Jimin’s neck and the poor fairy has to suppress a shiver. Jimin pats his back awkwardly to try not to reveal too much of his excitement, muttering a quick ‘no problem, hope it works’ , and Yoongi’s fingertips accidentally brush Jimin’s wings when he pulls away.
Yoongi smiles at him, a rare treat, and sends Jimin off with a ruffle of his hair.
“This is really important to me, Jimin-ah. Thank you.”
He nods and gathers his things in a daze and leaves the tiny room, heart still rabbiting in his chest. It’s not until he’s halfway home, grinning like a madman that he realizes he never got clarification for what Yoongi needed the fire for in the first place.
“You smell like a teenage girl with a crush,” is what Jungkook says when he barges into the back room after everyone else is gone. Well, everyone except for Yoongi and himself.
Yoongi looks up from the wall, where he’s re-organizing the things he’s used for the day and flicks him off with no remorse. Jungkook tuts and speed walks around the island to gather various clutter stacked on the surface and put it where it goes, mindful not to put too much weight on his left side.
Shifting back and forth multiple times a day does a number on his human body, after all. He’ll be fine after a night of rest, so he’s not too worried.
He makes sure to gather the remnants of Bat’s Wing (an overly dramatic name for holly, really. Jungkook doesn’t understand Yoongi’s flair for dramatics but he doesn’t question it either) and Lupine stems to safely dispose of them in their correct bins, watching as they disintegrate and disappear as soon as they hit the plastic. He avoids the buds of nightshade and wolfsbane for obvious reasons.
Yoongi is busy simultaneously watching a metal cooking pot boil a sweet-smelling substance--potion, probably--while checking one of his many spellbooks and charming his jars and vials to float back to their proper places.
“What’s this one for?” Jungkook asks. The sweet smell is charged with something tangy and minty; oddly enough, it’s making him hungry.
“Energy,” Yoongi mumbles, holding up a hand. A wooden spoon dislodges itself from a holder on the opposite wall and flies toward his open palm. He stirs the solution twice, chants a spell three times, and breathes deeply. “He’s been feeling tired lately standing up all the time and keeping up the glamour around the shop all day.”
Jungkook hums, quietly walking over to peer over Yoongi’s shoulder. A translucent green solution bubbles away, reminiscent of green tea.
As soon as the steam wafting from the bubbling mixture hits his nose full force, he immediately perks up, the ache in his bones from shifting back to back dissipating immediately.
“Wow,” Jungkook breathes, taking a deep breath. It invigorates his senses too, and when he looks around, the colors of the room seem brighter.
Yoongi nods and Jungkook can picture the self satisfied smile on his face.
“Good, huh? If you want some, you need to get it before I steep the willow bark.”
Jungkook nods excitedly, turning on his heel to go find something to store it in, settling on a discarded cork bottle he sees on Yoongi’s table. It doesn’t smell like anything has ever been inside, so he takes it back over to the witch so that his new potion can be bottled.
“Be careful with that, Jungkook-ah. Before you know it, you’ll be addicted if you don’t use it in moderation,” Yoongi warns. Jungkook nods and accepts the tiny bottle with grateful hands, carefully pocketing it in his sweatpants. “Can you grab me one willow shoot and one stem?”
Jungkook wordlessly travels to the shelf next to Yoongi’s table and retrieves the things asked, handing them over and watching Yoongi work.
“I have to steep this for exactly fifteen hours,” he explains, glancing over to make sure Jungkook is paying attention. “I was originally gonna use bark, but I just found out that Jimin is an elemental fairy and one of his blessings is the opposite of water.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows raise at this. “I thought he was of the Trees.”
“Right?” Yoongi snorts. “Fooled me damn well. I’m glad I found out, or this could have ended up pretty fucking horribly.”
Jungkook nods solemnly. If Jimin is of fire and willow bark is of water, that would only spell disaster.
Yoongi nods in return.
“Why are you using the stems though? Willow is still willow.”
Yoongi plops the shoots in first, then the stems before answering. “Uh, well it’s kind of like how when you dry things out they become more potent, right?”
Jungkook really enjoys when Yoongi teaches him things. He has a way of going about it that makes it easy for a non-magic user like Jungkook to understand.
At Jungkook’s noise of confirmation, he continues. “The bark is the dead part of the tree. So it’s more powerful in potions because of the concentration of its magical properties. The shoot is new, kind of like the baby part? So it’s not as powerful.”
“Yea,” Yoongi says as he watches the willow sink to the bottom of the liquid and turn it a vibrant, opaque orange. “The stems are apart of the leaves before they fall off. The shoots aren’t powerful enough on their own, but the stems would be too powerful, so they kind of have to balance.”
Jungkook watches in fascination as the mixture settles to a simmer and then slows to a standstill, and when Yoongi stirs it once counterclockwise, it becomes thick and viscous.
“I wish I could eliminate it completely, but it won’t be complete without the willow. This is the only mellow magic I could find that won’t clash with Jimin’s nature. Do you understand?”
Jungkook nods and steps back. “Yeah. Witch magic and fairy magic don’t always mix, right?”
“Unfortunately,” Yoongi sighs.
Jungkook is hesitant to voice this, but he’s curious.
“Hm?” comes the belated reply, Yoongi double checking the potion and cross-referencing it with the notes in his spellbook.
“Why...why don’t you just ask him out? Isn’t this just making it more difficult for you?”
Yoongi stops what he’s doing and turns to face to the werewolf. His arms are crossed and he has a slightly rueful expression on his face. “One doesn’t simply ‘just ask out’ a fairy, Jungkook.”
At the younger’s deadpan expression, he laughs.
“Yea, I know,” the witch continues. “but Jimin is a fairy, this is kind of a big deal.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at this. “But you’re not a fairy, hyung. Or anything of the sort. You don’t have to follow their rules on this.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Taehyung is different, Jungkook-ah. He’s only half and even if he wasn’t, he’s not as traditional anyway.”
“I don’t think Jimin-hyung would mind.”
And yeah, Yoongi doesn’t think he’d mind either.
But Yoongi has never been one to do shit by halves, not in all his years of living on this earth, and he’s not planning on starting now. He wants to do this right, to show that he cares about the other as a person and everything that makes up the walking enigma that is Park Jimin. He doesn’t want Jimin to think that Yoongi considers him as another pretty face, another pretty fairy.
This will drive that home.
“I know,” Yoongi says quietly. “I don’t even know if this is possible, to be honest. I don’t think it’s been done before. I can’t find any texts on it, even in the ancient books.”
“So what will you do, hyung?” Jungkook asks carefully. Yoongi bites his lip and looks down at his feet.
“I’ll keep trying. Jimin is worth all of this effort and time, y’know?”
Jungkook blows a stray piece of hair out of his face and grins. “Hyung, you are so whipped.”
Yoongi lets a smile of his own creep onto his face. “Yea, I kind of am.”
“You could always just ask him to fuck you.”
Jungkook dodges the glass jar that flies at his face, laughing uncontrollably.
“YAH! Jeon Jungkook! Just because Taehyung makes you question your sexuality every day doesn’t mean we’re all like you! Get your lust driven brain out of your dick!”
“I mean, you never know, he just might agree--”
“ YAH! ”
Jimin feels refreshed.
He’s back from a two day break, his reward for working a double shift three days in a row. He only has to work one shift today, the day shift, so he’s excited to finally have a night to himself.
He grabs his favorite broom, the one that Seokjin procured from a friendly healer in Sri Lanka when he was travelling to the Arabian Sea for some business.
Whatever business sirens have, Jimin supposes.
As he’s sweeping, the shop fills with the spicy aroma of tangy cinnamon and cloves. Jimin inhales, savoring the flavor filling his lungs and resting on his tongue.
Their last human client has just left, giving Jimin the freedom to amble over to the front desk and hit the switch on the fluorescent Open sign.
He quickly makes quick work of the glamour around the shop, choosing to forego putting his own back up for the time being. Jimin finishes sweeping in good time, making sure to rearrange everything at his station so it’s in proper order and drape his apron on the back of the salon chair. He says goodbye to everyone; a hug for Taehyung (who’s mindful of his wings, Jimin loves having an understanding best friend), a scratch on the head for Kookie, allowing his cheeks to be pinched for Hoseok, a smile for Namjoon, and a pat on the shoulder for Seokjin.
When he’s done with the staff in the front, he goes to the back and knocks on Yoongi’s door, waiting a beat before going in.
Yoongi is asleep as he usually is during the day shift, there not being much for the witch to do. Jimin should really just let him sleep, he’s probably tired, but he always makes sure to say goodbye to everyone before he leaves.
He especially likes his goodbyes with Yoongi. They make him feel soft and gooey.
“Hyung?” Jimin whispers, walking over to the small table the witch is hunched over and squatting so their faces are level. He pokes Yoongi’s cheek, huffing out a soft laugh at how the other mumbles something under his breath and shifts slightly. He pokes his cheek again, slightly harder, and huffs at the lack of response.
If Yoongi won’t entertain his vanilla efforts of rousing him, he’ll just--
“Don’t even fucking think about it, Park Jimin,” Yoongi growls, startling Jimin into quickly retracting his sparking fingertips and falling backwards on his ass. He hisses and glares at Yoongi, who sits up with a yawn and paws at his own hair.
“You were awake this whole time?” Jimin pouts.
“As of five seconds ago, yes. Your magic woke me up,” Yoongi says around another yawn. He angles his body towards Jimin and reaches out a hand as a peace offering. Jimin takes it and gets pulled up as Yoongi stands.
“I hate that you can do that,” Jimin grumbles.
Yoongi rolls his eyes at him, biting back, “ Sense magic ? Right, cause it’s not like every magic user can do that, including yourself. Not at all.”
Jimin swats his arm. “Shut up , you know what I mean. Not all of us can be ancient witches.”
“Not all of us can be ancient fairies either,” Yoongi tuts. "You and your complicated runes that only like four people can read." Jimin crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, causing Yoongi to laugh at him and tousle his hair. Jimin swats his hand away and sighs. “Anyway, what did you need?”
“Oh, um,” Jimin stammers, looking away. “I just wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”
Now he feels kind of silly.
Like, okay, Jimin makes it a point to say goodbye to everyone because he was raised with some manners, and he really likes it when he wakes Yoongi up and his eyes are all puffy from sleep and he looks kind of soft and his face is swollen and his voice is a little rough--
Jimin clears his throat.
Yes, he feels kind of stupid now. Did he really have to wake him up this one time? Couldn’t he have just left him be?
Heat blooms in the center of Jimin’s cheeks.
“Ah, in that case,” Yoongi declares. “I’ll walk out with you.”
Jimin’s head snaps up at this. Yoongi snorts at his surprised look. “I have the night shift off too. Thanks for waking me up.”
The fairy nods quietly, mind reeling at the prospect of leaving together, and what it brings.
They’re a well known salon, after all. Even with the team that comes in during half the week, there’s always things that need to be done. Jimin’s schedule and Yoongi’s schedule hardly line up, especially with Jimin being of the day and Yoongi being of the night.
Unconsciously, Jimin begins to twiddle his thumbs, keeping a close eye on Yoongi as he pulls a small backpack from underneath his table and shoves a few items in. He looks like a schoolboy when he puts it on.
It’s so cute.
They leave the small room together, Jimin to the left and Yoongi to the right, making a quick stop at the desk so that Jimin can get his own bag from Seokjin, and he pointedly ignores the suggestive looks Taehyung shoots him.
The autumn air is cool when they step outside. It’s cool teetering on the edge of cold, but not so brisk that Jimin feels he needs a jacket. They left a little early, it only being a quarter until midnight instead of the usual twelve a.m. official shift change.
They walk until they reach the end of the street, where there’s a light. Normally, Jimin would cross and turn a left, whereas he knows Yoongi would make a right, but today he stalls for a second.
As usual when they’re alone, the atmosphere is thick. Not heavy, certainly not awkward or uncomfortable, but thick with a certain tension that makes Jimin’s tongue want to stick to the roof of his mouth.
“Do you, um,” Yoongi starts, taking ahold of Jimin’s wrist. Jimin looks to his right to find Yoongi looking right at him. “Do you maybe want to grab something to eat from Lotteria? Or wherever you want. I’ll pay.”
And honestly, who is Jimin to say no? Who is he to say no to Yoongi, when he looks so gentle and nervous while he’s holding Jimin’s wrist? Who is he to say no to Yoongi, after all this time they’ve known each other, all this time that Jimin has craved his affection?
So Jimin smiles, gently tugging his wrist from Yoongi’s hold only to slide his fingers up until their hands are joined.
“Sure, hyung. Lotteria sounds good.”
“So, I’m calling bullshit,” Yoongi says as he slides into the seat across from Jimin’s with a tray holding their food. “I seriously doubt this is actual wagyu beef. There’s no way.”
Jimin giggles at Yoongi’s outraged expression and makes grabby hands for his food. Wordlessly, Yoongi hands over the food that he did in fact pay for.
Jimin likes a man who keeps his word.
He watches as Jimin excitedly unwraps his burger: a juicy beef patty topped with bacon, hash browns, and a thick disk of fried mozzarella cheese, every unhealthy bastard’s wet dream. Jimin groans as he bites into it and pulls away, enjoying the long stretch of the cheese.
“Ah, hyung, this is so good! I haven’t eaten since before opening,” he whines. Yoongi frowns at him and hands him a napkin before starting to unwrap his own burger.
“Yah, Park Jimin. You need to take better care of yourself,” he says sternly, but Jimin knows he’s only half-serious. “Where are your cheeks at? They’re not here anymore,” he teases. He reaches across the table to pinch at Jimin’s cheek which is still very much full of food and he has to try way too hard to make sure he doesn’t accidentally spit it out.
Jimin smacks his hand away. “I know, hyung. I’m just really busy lately, I can never find the time to eat.”
Yoongi sighs, reaching back over to flick Jimin’s forehead. “What kinda mentality is that, huh? You won’t be saying that when you die. Even fairies can starve, y’know?”
Jimin rolls his eyes, assuring Yoongi that it’ll never get that far, and if he wants, he can personally make sure Jimin eats three times a day.
Yoongi looks kind of flustered at that, swiftly changing the topic.
“But seriously. Wagyu for ₩8,500? I don’t believe it.”
“Try it?” Jimin offers, shrugging a shoulder. He discreetly reaches over to steal one of Yoongi’s potato wedges because he didn’t get a side of his own. He wrinkles his nose at the taste. he doesn’t know why Yoongi likes these so much, the fries are way better.
Yoongi shoots him a glare but lets him continue to take more, and takes a bite of his own burger.
Based on his disappointed face, it’s not all that great.
“Damn, I was really excited for a sec,” Yoongi bemoans. “I can’t believe I actually thought it might be good.”
“Is it that bad?”
Yoongi holds the burger out; Jimin leans over to take a bite. He wrinkles his nose. It’s not bad, but it’s not terribly good. Certainly not wagyu standard, just an average tasting burger.
“Sorry, hyung. I think you just got scammed.”
Jimin offers a bite of his own burger as compensation cackling like a madman when the cheese stretches and breaks, smacking Yoongi square in the nose.
Friday of the same week, the employees of the night shift at Blood, Sweat, and Shears are faced with a summons.
Jungkook promptly whacks Taehyung on the arm and tells him to stop using outdated and overly dramatic language.
As they’re preparing to open for the night, a package appears, swathed in tufts of pink--kind of an odd color--foxfire. They all gather around it, even Yoongi, who was out of the back room to talk to Seokjin about an order going wrong. When Hoseok makes to grab it, the fire disappears, leaving a smoky aroma.
It’s a letter.
A letter in a fancy envelope with gold and silver detailing, intricate swirls lining the border with a neat font printed on the front.
Sent to The Staff at Blood, Sweat, and Shears Hair Salon.
Taehyung, ever impatient, snatches it from Hoseok’s hands and rips it open, eyes scanning over the paper hungrily.
“Oh my god,” the fae gasps. “OH MY GOD, JUNGKOOKIE!”
He throws himself on his poor boyfriend, shrieking in his ear and squealing like a banshee.
With a sigh and roll of his eyes, Hoseok catches the paper before it can hit the ground. Much like Taehyung, he quickly reads the contents and goes stock still.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, a rarity in himself seeing as he doesn’t use profanity often. “Oh, my god? Am I dreaming or did we just get an invite to Hirai Momo’s two-hundredth birthday bash?”
“ What!? ” Namjoon blurts out at the same time as Yoongi’s “No way in hell that’s real.”
He plucks the letter from Hoseok’s still form.
“‘ Seokjin-san, as a thanks for doing such lovely work for me and my sisters, I’d like to formally invite you and your staff to my birthday party on the ninth of November two-thousand and seventeen from midnight to 6am. ’”
Seokjin coughs, then screams.
This is a big deal. Remember how earlier, we established that just being chosen to dress and style Momo and her entourage was a pretty big fucking deal?
This beats that by tenfold.
Blood, Sweat, and Shears and its daytime counterpart, Live or Dye most definitely prides itself on its reputation of being the best. All of their advertisements say so, going so far as to have sign pointing in its direction at the end of the street. With an owner like Kim Seokjin, that’s to be expected.
As individual stylists, they’ve been invited to different events as guests, whether it be for their services in hair or clothes or even the odd makeup job, they’re no strangers to expressions of gratitude through invitation.
However, most of those clients are human, none too close to what they are, and certainly not as high profile as Hirai Momo.
Being invited to such a big Underworld event to represent their brand is…
“This is because of Jimin,” Hoseok hisses. He points a finger at the boy, shouting, “It was the hair! You did her hair and that’s what sold her!”
Jimin is quick to backtrack.
“No, no. I’m sure it had to do with Namjoon-hyung’s outfit choices and Taehyung’s makeup.”
He grabs Jimin and pulls him in for a tight embrace, laughing joyously. “Jimin, you’ve done it! You little monster!”
Jimin lets himself be bounced up and down and hugged repeatedly, but he still disagrees. They’re a team and this was a team effort.
“Hyung, stoppp,” Jimin fusses, wriggling so he’s out of the vampire’s hold. Namjoon guffaws at a still shrieking Seokjin and trips, falling right through Jungkook who looks as pale as--excuse the awful pun--a ghost.
“Hyung, never again,” Jungkook shudders, shaking his head. He sneezes and wipes his clammy forehead, trying to ignore a now fussing Taehyung even further in his space. “Never again, god .”
Hoseok finds this entire exchange absolutely hilarious, which is relieving because it means he finally leaves Jimin and his sore cheeks alone to go bother the couple and very apologetic ghost.
Jimin rubs his cheeks and sighs fondly, shooting a small smile to his feet.
He feels a presence come to stand behind him, and he doesn’t even have to look to know it’s Yoongi.
An arm snakes around his waist and pulls him into a warm side. Jimin flinches, but settles into the warmth soon enough. He feels huffs of laughter against his ear and the contact makes the power buzzing at his fingertips go haywire. Jimin purses his lips, trying not to lose control and accidentally shock his hyung.
“You did good, Jiminie. Hyung is proud of you,” he whispers quietly. He laughs again when the fairy’s fingers sparkle and pop. Jimin nods stiffly, beyond elated and embarrassed at his own reaction, but Yoongi takes it in stride and just squeezes his waist gently before pulling away.
Thursday is a feat.
They have to come into work early, even earlier than the day shift starts, in order to be able to get everything done. Jimin shows up at the absolutely atrocious time of five a.m.
Which normally wouldn’t be too terrible, considering that Blood, Sweat, and Shears operates from midnight to six, but then again Jimin can usually go home and rest right after.
Today, they’ve had to close Live or Dye and take extra precautions with concealment, with Jimin and Taehyung having to combine forces to remain hidden during daylight hours with so much traffic in and out. They’ve even called in the other staff that works shifts together when they don’t, because there’s no way in hell the seven of them can do this by themselves.
Everyone is busy from the time they open, with Namjoon as well as another designer by the name of Hyungwon triple checking measurements in order to make last minute alterations, Taehyung and Changkyun having to have a consultation with every single client in order to ask if they’re absolutely sure about this color scheme and look you’ve chosen for your face today ?, and Seokjin holding down the front and direction everyone to where they need to go and answering any extra questions while simultaneously checking in appointments and answering phone calls.
Jimin and Hoseok hardly have time to breathe between one customer and the next, Hoseok and Minhyuk quickly taking care of the cuts while Jimin has to almost literally fly back and forth from his chair and Yoongi’s room in order to get the necessary materials for each different species. It gets to a point where Jimin is working five chairs at once, even with Hyunwoo and Jooheon on the other side of the mirrors taking care of more chairs, and Jungkook takes a break from flitting around the shop to take care of little odds and ends to solely helping him by bringing things he needs.
Jimin doesn’t even want to think about the stress Yoongi and another witch, Kihyun, must be under. Even though they’ve prepared certain things like special dyes and custom shades of pigment and base makeup, they still has to make other things on site. From the small glances Jimin was able to steal when he was back there, the room is a war zone.
Each time a client is finished, they have to spritz them with some potion Kihyun has whipped up that ensures not a hair will move out of place for the entire day until the night, nor will any makeup applied.
Jimin feels like he’s dying by the time the clock strikes one in the afternoon, and they’re nowhere near done.
“There you are,” he says to a pixie named Yuna, better known as Yuju, as he turns her to face the mirror. She wasn’t available during the first round of color and styling, so he had to pay extra care to ensure that her look turned out well. The lighting in the shop bounces off of her new color, a gorgeous mix of sangria and eggplant that accentuates her pale skin and large eyes.
She smiles so hard that her eyes close and jumps up to squeeze Jimin in a hug, mindful of the loosely curled tufts of hair he’s left out of her halo braid. “Thank you so much! I love it, Momo will be so jealous when she sees me!”
Jimin nods and gives her a polite smile back, before instructing her to close her eyes while he sprays her hair and directs her over to Taehyung. She bows politely before shrinking down in a shimmery poof and flies over to meet the fae.
A glance at the clock shows it’s two-thirty. He doesn’t know how they’re going to manage getting everyone in and then styling themselves, but they’ll make it work.
They aren’t the best for nothing, after all.
Much like the first time, Momo herself is last. It’s nearing nine p.m. at this point, and all Jimin wants to do is pass out for a good three days.
She greets everyone pleasantly when she comes in and quickly makes work of the bill with Seokjin. The total must be huge with her paying for everyone that’s been styled today using every single service they offer, but she doesn’t bat an eyelash and hands over a sleek card with ease.
She’s sent to Hoseok first, so that he can make any modifications to her cut that she may wants, but she just ends up asking him to make sure it’s still perfectly even before sitting in Jimin’s chair for styling.
As per Jimin’s recommendation, she goes with sleek and straight with her signature straight bangs over her forehead but above her eyes. When Jimin is finished, she thanks him with a warm bow and proceeds to go to Taehyung, who sets out immediately to do her glitzy makeup.
When she’s a far enough distance away, Jimin spins the chair around and collapses into it, not even minding the leather still being slightly warm.
“Hyung,” Jimin cries. “ Hyung. ”
Hoseok collapses into the chair next to his and leans over to pat his arm. “I know.”
“I don’t think Shownu-hyung and I have had a shift that labor intensive, like, ever,” Jooheon groans as he and Hyunwoo round the mirrors. Minhyuk just sits on the floor where he stands and sighs.
Hyunwoo nods. “I don’t know how you guys do that multiple times a week. I think I’ll stick to the day shift.”
“It’s not this crazy all the time,” Jimin says. “It’s just--” he finishes with a vague wave of his hands. They get it though, as all three of the day shift employees not solemnly.
They sit in silence and Jimin dozes off a little, coming to when Momo leaves with a loud thanks and formal bow.
Hoseok pokes his cheek. Jimin swats his hand away tiredly.
“C’mon, Jiminie. Time to make you pretty.”
A knock sounds on the door before Jungkook peeks his head through.
“Hyung, you alive in here?” he calls, eyes scanning the room.
“No,” Yoongi grunts, slumped over his table in the corner. Kihyun had left a little while ago, claiming to need some air after being surrounded by a thick concentration of potions and magic for such a long time.
Jungkook quietly steps into the room. It’s a mess, Yoongi knows. There’s pots and bowls and herbs and globs of colorful goo everywhere. He wonders when he went from being a witch to being a chemist.
Yoongi digs his forehead further into his forearm, yawning. Jungkook silently slides behind him and pats him on the back.
“Good job, hyung. We couldn’t have made this work without you.”
Yoongi grunts again.
“I got what you asked for,” Jungkook tries. Yoongi perks up at this. Slowly, he raises his head and sits up, leaning his head back to look at the underside of Jungkook’s chin. The wolf snorts and looks down so their eyes meet. Then, he dangles something in front of Yoongi’s face.
It’s too close, so Yoongi ends up going a little cross eyed trying to look at it, then sneezes when Jungkook lets the thing touch his nostril.
Yoongi reaches back and smacks his side when he laughs, but sits back upright and stands up to make sure it’s what he’s looking for.
A single strand of baby pink hair is held tightly in Jungkook’s fingertips. Yoongi gasps and holds his palm out, watching the strand float down to rest in his hand delicately.
“Y’know, out of context this is really creepy,” Jungkook says. “Even in context, it’s kind of creepy. Do you know how hard I had to work to get that? Looking for hair on the ground and trying not to seem weird when I picked it up.”
Yoongi pokes him in the side. “Thank you, Jungkook-ah. This is the last thing I need.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes good heartedly and punches the witch in the arm.
Yoongi scowls at him, rubbing the sore spot before huffing and bending down to collect his bag from where he stores it underneath the table. He unzips the biggest compartment and reaches into a smaller pocket within that one, pulling out something wrapped in tissue paper.
He stands up and walks over to one of the few clear spots on the island. Jungkook follows and looks over his shoulder with wide eyes as he unwraps the paper. As soon as the covering is gone, the air pulses with warmth, the item sitting on the table casting a pale yellow glow over Yoongi’s hands where they rest on the surface next to it.
“Wow,” Jungkook croaks. His eyes become impossibly wide as he takes in the piece, it’s shimmering golden surface. “Is this really for him?”
Yoongi opens his other palm, where the hair sits. He holds it up and lets it touch his lips briefly, before laying it on the glowing object. Immediately, it disappears, sinking into the metal. What follows is silver, sprouting from the first contact of the hair to the surface, overtaking it from its previous golden hue to a chic silver.
It’s cool to the touch now when Yoongi grabs it. He holds it up to the light and turns it this way and that, nodding when he deems it satisfactory.
He holds it out for Jungkook, knowing the other would be going insane with the want to examine it. The werewolf cradles it in two hands and holds it up to his face.
“Hyung, are these freaking rubies ?”
Yoongi nods and Jungkook shakes his head.
“Man, if he says no your life is over.”
Yoongi scowls and snatches it back from Jungkook’s hands.
“Out of my room. I have to get ready.”
Jungkook sticks his tongue out on his way out the door.
Jimin fights to stay awake as Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair for the last time before letting him see the finished result.
When he gets the okay to open his eyes, he’s shocked. Instead of its previous blush pink hue, his hair is parted three-fourths of the way across his forehead in silvery layers. Hoseok took a few centimeters off his ends and shaped up the bottom, and honestly, Jimin looks good.
A low whistle sounds behind him and he turns to see Seokjin eyeing him up and down.
“Yah, Park Jimin! That’s lethal!” Seokjin teases, patting him on the shoulder. Jimin shrugs his hand off with a fierce blush, a smile threatening to overtake his features.
“I’m no Jiminie, but I can do a mean dye job, y’know?” Hoseok gloats. He removes his apron and ruffles his own hair, a pretty merge of smoky orange and light pink that Jimin did a few days prior. He pouts, slinking over to Jimin and poking him in the arm over and over.
“Jiminie, the love of my life, my favorite dongsaeng ever, my special fairy baby, my soulmate--”
“ YAH! ” Taehyung screams from across the shop.
“--okay not my soulmate but my prettiest, most special glowing fairy--”
Jimin holds a hand up and stands from the chair. “Just sit down, hyung.”
Jimin chugs a small potion, something Jungkook brought from the back for everyone to drink. As soon as it hits his tongue, he feels refreshed.
“Sorry hyung, this one has blood in it for you. Not a lot, but I understand if you don’t want to drink it,” Jungkook apologizes. “Yoongi-hyung told me to warn you and apologize because he couldn’t find another recipe that wouldn’t mess with your vampire...ism..?”
Jimin hears Hoseok sigh. It’s no secret that the vampire rarely drinks actual blood, and when he does it’s definitely not that of a living being.
“It’s okay, I need it. As long as it’s only a little, I’ll be okay,” he quips. Jimin purses his lips but doesn’t say anything. With Taehyung doing whatever crazy things he envisions to Jimin’s face, he has to keep his eyes closed, but he imagines Hoseok with a pained grimace as he downs whatever substance Yoongi’s cooked up for him. Jimin just hopes he doesn’t run a hand through his hair as he’s prone to doing. Putting texture in such straight hair was no easy task. Oh well. If it gets messed up he’ll ask Jooheon to fix it.
Taehyung hums absentmindedly as he runs a brush over Jimin’s lids with a light hand. Jimin tends to zone out during these kinds of things, used to Taehyung dragging him back to his studio apartment to test out a new look or color on his face.
“You’re so pretty, Chim. Why are you still single?”
Jimin sucks his teeth and doesn’t respond.
“‘s cause he’s waiting for Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon taunts. Taehyung giggles and Jimin rolls his eyes even though they’re closed.
“So what if I am?” he asks quietly. Then, a little louder, “Besides, I don’t think he’s actually interested.”
Taehyung scoffs, in conjunction with Namjoon’s snort.
“Jimin-ah, let me be frank for a second,” Namjoon interjects. “Yoongi-hyung asked you to go somewhere during his time off. As in he chose you over more sleep. I heard you guys stayed out pretty late. Do you understand what that means?”
Jimin shrugs, careful not to move his head as Taehyung applies something sticky to his lips. “I dunno, I’ve just liked him for such a long time y’know? I thought there was something there, but maybe it was just me projecting,” he responds dejectedly. Taehyung pats his shoulder whilst swiping something across his cheeks.
“You’re definitely not imagining it. Trust me, I’m probably the smartest man you’ll ever meet,” Namjoon affirms. He sounds closer now, and Jimin’s suspicions are confirmed when he taps Jimin’s arm, muttering a thanks when he holds it out.
“Hyung, you’re dead,” Jimin deadpans, yelping when Namjoon pinches his arm in revenge. Taehyung tells Namjoon to stop bullying his soulmate.
“Ghost, whatever. I’m still a man, even if I’m dead,” he grumbles.
“Anyway,” Taehyung says loudly before the ghost can go off on one of his infamous tangents. “Don’t worry, Jiminie. Hyung likes you a lot and if he doesn’t, he definitely will after we’re done with you.”
Namjoon makes a noise of affirmation and Jimin presses down a pout.
He doesn’t want Yoongi to start taking notice of his after he’s all dressed up, he wants his attention now.
Taehyung instructs him to hold his breath as he powders his face, and then he can open his eyes. Before he has time to blink, Namjoon is urging him to stand and shoving a pile of clothes into his hands.
Then he’s being dragged to a door behind the desk, which is apparently a bathroom Jimin wasn’t aware they even had, all those times he had to run to the cafe across the street and then buy something out of guilt, what the fuck--
Right, more important things to do.
He makes quick work of his cream button down and black jeans. Then he looks at his outfit.
Jimin doesn’t know how the hell Namjoon’s done it, but he’s done it.
He holds up a black suit jacket, expertly crafted and soft to the touch, but with a certain roughness to the fabric that ensures the quality of the fabric used. The detail is beautiful, intricate patterns of silver that span the surface of the shoulders and travel down to the hem of the jacket. When he turns it, the silver reflects prettily off the fluorescent lighting in the bathroom.
“Woah,” he whispers to himself. He hangs the jacket over his forearm and next pulls up a black button down, matte to the eye but soft to the touch, as well as a ruffled choker that Jimin has no idea what to do with and black dress pants that are cut more like jeans than slacks, as well as a pair of sleek black shoes.
He wastes no time, excited to see how everything looks. He starts with the button down followed by the pants--that are surprisingly easy to slip into, considering how well they hug his legs--then the choker and finally the jacket. Jimin doesn’t want to look until he has access to a full length mirror and those are outside. He doesn’t understand how his clumsy friend managed to make such perfectly fitting clothes so well, but he won’t question it. There’s a reason people come back for Namjoon’s services, after all.
The theme of the party is regal, and boy does Jimin feel like a prince.
He smoothes over the fabric once more and decides that the choker was probably meant to go under the shirt, so he fixes that swiftly before opening the door with bated breath.
Hoseok is the first to see him and Jimin is happy to see that his hair is still intact.
“Wah, Jiminie!” Hoseok hoots. “Look at this sexy mochi!”
Jimin looks away at the praise, bringing a hand up to subconsciously scratch his neck as everyone’s attention is drawn to him.
“Hyung,” he whines quietly. Hoseok ignores him and all but runs over to inspect him. Now that he’s closer, Jimin notices that he’s dressed to the nines as well. He’s decked out in his own suit jacket, except his is adorned with roses of multiple colors, bright yet muted at the same time. His jacket is less form fitting and more open than Jimin’s drawing attention to the ruffled color on his white button down. He also wears slacks and a pair of shiny dress shoes.
Taehyung has given him a light smoky eye in shades of rust and ginger that compliments his hair nicely.
“Hyung, you look so nice!” Jimin gasps. Hoseok grins at him--his disguise gone and pointy teeth on display--and laughs, saying that Jimin looks ten times better than he does. Jimin doubts that’s true, because Hoseok looks amazing.
He takes notice of everyone then.
Hyunwoo was the one to do Taehyung’s hair for him, the previously long black hair now styled in choppy ash-brown layers. He’s kept his makeup simple, only choosing to pop a hint of tinted lip balm on his lips and lined his eyes thinly in black khol. Taehyung’s always been handsome in Jimin’s eyes, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t need much to look great.
Namjoon has chosen to give him a black blazer (Why so much black? Are they all supposed to be matching?) that’s heavily accented with a gold leaf pattern that plays off of his hair nicely. It’s buttoned but not all the way, so that a silk shirt peeks through the opening in, you guessed it, black. He informs Jimin that Namjoon had to go back home to get his own outfit and that he’ll meet them at the party.
Seokjin is nowhere to be seen, as well as Jungkook and Yoongi, but Jimin guesses they look amazing as well.
“Yah, Namjoon didn’t hold back huh?” Taehyung says appreciatively. “If you weren’t my best bro soulmate and I wasn’t obsessed with Jungkook, I’d totally bang you.”
Jimin rolls his eyes fondly and shoves his best friend away.
“Whatever, nasty. Where’s Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin asks curiously. “And Jungkook,” he adds after a second.
Jungkook appears in the doorway of the back room, only dressed in his pants and shoes with the rest of his clothes in his arms.
“Wow glad to know I’m a priority to you, not an extra thought at all,” he bites sarcastically, causing Hoseok and Taehyung to snicker. “Really feeling the love here.”
Jimin smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”
Jungkook sighs, mumbling a petulant ‘whatever’.
Before he can say anything else, he’s shoved out of the way by a frazzled looking Yoongi who settles his eyes on Jimin and beckons him over. Jimin frowns and takes a step forward, worried.
“Hyung, are you--”
He’s interrupted by an impatient sigh. Yoongi's beckoning him again with a single fingertip, except this time Jimin flies forward until they’re inches apart, and then he’s grabbed by the wrist and dragged into the room, much to the confusion of everyone in the shop. Yoongi closes the door behind him hastily, then turns so he’s facing Jimin.
Jimin is still a little disoriented from Yoongi’s magic, blinking to clear the residual dizziness away.
Yoongi regards him carefully and kind of apprehensively, swallowing audibly and drumming a rhythm on his thighs with his fingertips.
“Uhm,” Jimin says dumbly. “Hyung?”
Yoongi remains silent, still looking at Jimin nervously, before sighing and stepping forward. He reaches out for Jimin’s hand and Jimin lets him take it willingly, as the contact seems to calm him down a bit.
“I heard what you, Taehyung, and Namjoon were talking about earlier.”
Jimin freezes. Yoongi, sensing his panic, is quick to continue.
“Well I didn’t hear hear it, Jungkook actually heard and then he told me.”
Jimin’s first thought is that he wasn’t even aware that Jungkook was present when the three of them were having that conversation.
His second thought is that he’s actually going to murder Jeon Jungkook, no matter how much Taehyung begs him to spare his life.
Jimin is at a loss for words. His throat feels like it’s closing up and he can feel his forehead start to get clammy, which sucks because he knows Taehyung worked really hard on his makeup and he doesn’t want to ruin it prematurely.
“So, I heard what you guys were talking about and I...I, fuck.”
Jimin actually wants to die? Like, he wants his good friend Jihoon to appear and read him his time of death and have him sign the certificate and everything. He’s fucking mortified. What do you do in this situation? How does he handle this? There’s no way to play this off as a joke, no way to insist that it was a misunderstanding or misinterpretation of the conversation. It had been pretty damn clear at the time what they were talking about.
Jimin feels his cheeks heat up and his eyes sting. God, he’s so embarrassed. He hates Jungkook, he’s gonna replace all his ramyun with the super spicy kind and stick dried sage all around his apartment because he hates the smell.
He sniffs and tries to pull his hand away to save himself any more embarrassment, like crying over his crush while clinging to him pathetically or anything dumb like that, but Yoongi holds firm.
“Hyung, let me go. Please don’t tease me,” Jimin begs. He looks down at the toes of his shiny new dress shoes and waits to be released. He hears Yoongi suck in a breath and then he’s being pulled into a solid hug.
Jimin tries to push him away, wailing, “I don’t want to be pitied hyung, please let me be.”
“No,” Yoongi replies simply. “I won’t. And I’m not pitying you.”
“Yes you are.”
“You are. ”
“‘m really not,” the witch growls. “I’m happy, you idiot.”
He releases his grip on Jimin enough to where the fairy can step back and think clearly, away from the witch’s deep voice and pleasant scent. Jimin squints his eyes at him skeptically and Yoongi groans, stepping back and walking around the island to his table, where his backpack sits. He reaches in and digs around for a few seconds, then pulls something out.
“This is literally the worst fucking time to do this, but.”
It’s hidden by his fist, so Jimin can’t see what it is until Yoongi comes back to stand in front of him and tentatively lets his hand fall open.
Jimin almost faints.
In Yoongi’s hand rests a ring.
Not just any ring, oh no.
In the center of his palm is a silver ring, the band split into three parts that swirl and curve around each other, almost like a braid. In each segment sits tiny jewels of a multitude of colors, beautiful crystals embedded into the metal. The center almost forms the shape of a tear, and nestled into the shape of that tear is an opal, Jimin’s birthstone.
When Jimin reaches out to touch it, the ring throbs in time with his heartbeat. Jimin can feel himself in this ring.
No, this isn’t any ring, not at all.
It’s a ring crafted from him, his dust was used to forge this ring, using fire…
Using the fire of a fairy, linked to the gods.
Jimin’s eyes widen, mind racing a mile a minute.
There’s no way…
But there’s no other explanation.
“...How?” Jimin whispers, voice laced with disbelief. “How did you do this? Who did you…”
“I made it.”
Jimin’s head whips up so fast he’s afraid he’ll get whiplash. Yoongi’s eyes bore into his own, completely serious. Jimin shakes his head, laughing shakily.
“No...No, that’s impossible. Hyung, that’s--that’s never been done before,” Jimin stutters. Yoongi shakes his head.
He reaches out to take Jimin’s hand again, squeezing lightly. “Just because it’s never been done doesn’t mean it’s impossible, Jimin-ah.”
Jimin can’t compile his jumble of thoughts into anything that makes sense. If this is what he thinks it is, he’s gonna flip his shit.
“I want something serious. With you,” Yoongi continues. There’s a pale dusting of pink on his cheeks as he talks. “I really wanted to show you that I’m genuine about wanting more than just a quick relationship with you so I, uh. I um. I wanted to court you. Properly.”
Jimin is going to pass out .
Obviously, Jimin is a fairy. Fairies are very, very particular when it comes to any type of romantic endeavor. They’re creatures of passion and love, so matters of the heart are never taken lightly. As the world has become more advanced and times have changed, the rules have become a little more lenient, but it’s still something that shouldn’t be taken lightly.
In order to pursue a relationship with a fairy, you must court them. And in order to court them, you must somehow find a way to collect enough of their dust to take it to a fae or fairy who is gifted in the art of forge and have them craft a ring for your partner.
It’s a grueling, exhausting process that takes a long time, formatted in such a way as to show your dedication to whomever you're courting and to prove your sincerity. Even today, most fairies only court and then go on to marry one person.
However, this is a rule that doesn’t apply to interracial and intraspecies couples.
Jimin likes to consider himself a traditionalist when it comes to relationships and love. So for Yoongi to go out of his way in order to somehow do this, to somehow figure out a way to make Jimin a ring, such a beautiful, gorgeous ring that Jimin’s already so gone for and possibly...possibly court him…
“Hyung,” Jimin mumbles, voice cracking. “Hyung, you didn’t need to.”
Yoongi squeezes his hand once more and grins, a wide, pretty little thing that shows all his teeth and gums and makes his eyes crinkle shut.
“Of course I didn’t, but I wanted to. I have no traditions of my own so I wanted to respect yours.”
Jimin is in love with the best man ever to exist.
“You should also thank Jungkook. He helped a lot.”
Jimin takes back every mean thing he’s ever thought about Jeon Jungkook, he’s gonna take him out to a super fancy restaurant and buy every single video game and overpriced bottle of perfume the boy wants.
Yoongi shifts his grip so that the ring is clasped between his index finger and thumb and looks and Jimin expectantly.
“May I?” he asks, nodding to the hand he’s still holding. Jimin nods slowly, not quite believing what the hell is going on. Yoongi raises their joined hands and lets go, carefully cradling his wrist and slipping the ring on his index finger with a suave ‘Keep your fourth finger open, Min Jimin.’
Jimin could scream, honestly.
Soon after that, Namjoon bursts through the front door of the shop fully dressed. He takes on look at Jimin and Yoongi’s joined hands, at the finger on Jimin’s wrist, and breaths out a long drawn ‘ finally! ’.
Taehyung is extremely happy for him while simultaneously bragging about how ‘I told you so, Chim, you never listen to me!’ and enthusiastically whacking Yoongi on the back. Jungkook just looks downright smug, like he knows that Jimin knows that he owes him big time but Jimin just resigns himself to his fate. Seokjin appears from out of nowhere when he strolls through the shop doors and sends the new couple a wink before rounding everyone up to leave.
They have an awesome time, Jimin still kind of high off of being courted by his crush, what the fuck, and his happy moods must be contagious, because everyone he talks to ends up smiling as wide as he is by the end.
Momo looks amazing when she makes her appearance, dressed in a beautifully shimmering royal blue dress, her makeup a unique combination of peach and aqua in a way that works with her dress and her hair. Her two tails flick lazily behind her and her pointy ears perk up when she sees Jimin. They exchange small waves and Jimin’s just honestly glad she likes her look and he hopes they’ll be able to do it again for her three-hundredth.
Although, Jimin has no idea how she’s gonna top this. The venue is massive, bigger than any room Jimin has ever been in and it’s still packed. He sees friends who he hasn’t seen in forever, dances happily with his boyfriend, and refuses to spill the details on his shiny new ring.
All in all, it’s a good night.
And when they’re all singing happy birthday to Momo, watching her eyes light up in delight as she uses her foxfire to light up all two-hundred candles with pink flame and urges the crowd to help her blow them out, Jimin thinks it’ll be the best night of his life for a long, long time.
(P.S.: They totally make out in Yoongi’s small room at the back of the salon when they return in the early hours of the morning.)