4

Jungkook wakes up sprawled in one of Taehyung’s lawn chairs. The porch is conspicuously cleared of Fingers. It’s disorienting; the peacefulness that surrounds him. For a moment, he honestly wonders if the last two days have all been a dream. Blinking away the grogginess reveals Taehyung hunched in the chair next to him, looking pretty exhausted but otherwise in one piece.

“Tae?” He croaks.

The other witch hops up and starts fussing over him, “Kookie! Oh thank god you’re waking up. I mean, Jimin said you would soon, but I didn’t know…”

“Jimin. He’s okay?”

“Well…yes. He’s been pretty sick—puking and stuff. But he says that’s because of what he did to my house.” He gestures over the porch railing and Jungkook sits up to take a look.

“Holy shit.”

Taehyung grins, “I know.”

His patchy and yellowed lawn looks like it’s been replaced with a tropical garden. The grass is green and overgrown, flowers of every kind bloom in between thick, impenetrable hedges, and his tree is full in foliage. Jungkook looks around in disbelief. It’s like just on Taehyung’s lawn it’s spring instead of almost winter—although truthfully his lawn never looked like this in the spring.

“Jimin….What did he do?”

Taehyung looks out across the lush lawn, “He called it “purifying”. Said it was the only way to get rid of the other demon—“

“Crowley.”

“Yes, Crowley. Anyway he said it’s an old angel thing—but he can’t do it too often because it makes him so sick. Apparently my property is now a Holy Site.” Taehyung chuckles. “Eventually some human will probably have a vision or a prophetic dream here but in the meantime demons can’t enter the boundary.” He grimaces a little, looking uncomfortable, “Uh…Jimin said he really shouldn’t be here either but he can sort of stand it. He’s just…pretty…out of it.”

“That’s amazing.” Jungkook can’t seem to look away from the lush plants, “So weird to think Jimin did something like this.” He stands up to lean on the railing. “Where is he? If it’s uncomfortable for him to be here we should probably go.”

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, long enough to make Jungkook look over at him. The other witch seems to be struggling with how to say what’s going on. Immediately Jungkook feels his guard go up.

“He’s…inside. With the others.”

“Why do you sound so weird? What’s going on?”

Taehyung fiddles with one of the tangle of pendants around his neck. “Well, it’s Joon. He got…pretty mad at Jimin after the whole thing with that demon and the shadow things was over.”

“Mad? Why? He saved us.”

“Well, during the fight we—the coven—noticed our spells were a lot weaker. We were having trouble doing magick the way we’re used to. Like we aren’t as strong or something.” He drops the pendant against his chest. “He asked Jimin if he had anything to do with it. And Jimin said yes. But he didn’t—he didn’t explain like he does with you. He just said “yes” and Joon got really really mad.”

Jungkook’s neck prickles uncomfortably. Some more pieces fall into place about his restricted magick.

“He also blamed Jimin for Crowley showing up. Jimin actually tried to explain that but Joon told him to “shut the hell up” so he had to. Because of the…yeah.” Taehyung fidgets, looking really guilty. “And that, I guess, made him remember that we could order him around too.”

“Oh god…are they—?” He can’t bring himself to say it but Taehyung gets his implication well enough.

“N-no! No! At least…they weren’t when I came out here. I couldn’t…stay. It felt like we should say something? Should stop Joon but he scares me, Kookie. It’s no small thing to criticize the Supreme.” Taehyung blinks and Jungkook can’t believe it took him this long to notice how obviously emotional his best friend is. “He’s not acting like himself—he’s being…cruel. I didn’t know what else to do so I came out here to wait with you. I figured Jimin likes you—it’s your deal, maybe you would know what to do?”

Jungkook has no idea what to do. This was part of the deal he made, right? He wanted his coven to have power over the demon. Because Jimin is evil.

But honestly, all he’s done since he’s gotten here is make Jungkook stronger, free him from the binding of his magic (thinking about the tattoo makes Jungkook even more leery of confronting Namjoon), fight one of his demon brethren, and save his whole coven from being devoured by a demon army.

That was the deal though. All the deal. He promised to protect them.

He leans over the railing again to look at the garden. There’s vibrant life springing from every patch of Taehyung s property—even vines climbing up his house. How can something so evil do something like this? His fingers twine together. As he spends more time awake, the nausea ebbs away. He feels stronger. Can feel the endless expanse of his magic released from the puddle into a balmy ocean. Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns back to the other witch.

“Well, I don’t know what to do but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing we can do. Let’s go see them.”

As soon as Taehyung opens the door Jungkook can feel Jimin’s distress. Maybe he had been feeling it all along but his own disorientation had confused the source for him. Tendrils of fatigue and resentment reach out for him as he and Taehyung stand in the hallway. He almost sways on the spot. For whatever reason, the wall between their magicks isn’t nearly as impermeable as normal. Taehyung’s hallway curves around into the living room so they come upon the scene all at once—an uncomfortable tableau laid out across Taehyung’s furniture.

“Jungkook! You’re awake.” Namjoon’s voice booms across the room to him. Closest to where Jungkook entered the room, Seokjin and Hoseok are sitting on the same armchair, smiles tight and forced. Yoongi is practically buried in the corner, facing away from all of them. Namjoon, by contrast, is proudly sprawled across the entirety of the couch. Plates of food and drinks float around his head, obviously held up by magick. Namjoon is decked out in all sorts of luxury clothing but Jungkook barely spares a glance before his focus is drawn down between the elder witch’s legs. At Namjoon saying his name, the hunched over figure on the ground turns his attention over his shoulder to Jungkook.

Jimin looks awful.

Well, not awful by human standards—he’s still several deviations above any other person in the room—but by his own standards he looks a wreck.

His hair is disheveled, his skin is pale and sickly, there’s bags under his eyes and his whole demeanor is smaller, diminished. That would be bad enough, but…

Jungkook hisses involuntarily as he sees what Jimin is doing.

It’s not sexual (for once) but Jungkook almost wishes it was. At least it would seem more in character. But the proud demon is huddled on the floor—rubbing Namjoon’s feet.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The words are out almost as soon as he registers what’s happening. Maybe it’s Jimin’s emotions—the anger and resentment and the touch of resigned fear—that make him brave. Maybe it’s remembering how hard he had to work to do the simplest magick because of the binding. Maybe it’s watching someone who was his beacon of self control and logic demean and humiliate another creature just because he can.

But whatever the reason, the outcome is the same. Jungkook stalks over to stand before his Supreme. The others in the room flinch at his tone, Taehyung hesitates by the door and Yoongi stirs from the corner. Namjoon’s mouth thins into a hard line, just for a moment, before he forces a jovial laugh, “What do you mean? Jimin’s our servant, right? Just getting some payback for this little fucker—“ Namjoon jabs at Jimin with his free foot and Jungkook’s fingers curl into fists. “—messing with our magick so that we couldn’t even defeat shadow demons—“

“They’re called Fingers.” Jungkook says, “And Jimin didn’t do anything to your magick.”

“That’s not what he says,” Namjoon’s eyes glint, and Jungkook is unsettled. Something isn’t right. “He admitted to it and he can’t lie.”

“He didn’t do anything to your magick because it was never yours to use.” Jungkook snaps, “It was mine that you were piggybacking off of.” The rest of the coven audibly reacts, stiffening and leaning in to the conversation, “Which I don’t know why I’m explaining that to you considering you already know, because it was YOU who stole it from me! Jimin broke the seal you put in my initiate tattoo.”

Namjoon looks genuinely confused, which throws Jungkook off, he will admit.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What seal? I didn’t even know you were a sourcerer when you were an initiate!”

“I’m not very good at this so I can’t tell if you’re lying.” Jungkook grits out, “But the fact remains that all Jimin did was give me control of my magick back.”

“He’s right—I saw it.” Taehyung pipes up. “All Jimin did was break the line of the tattoo and all of a sudden Jungkook could do things he couldn’t before.”

Namjoon flicks his eyes over to Taehyung briefly before returning to staring Jungkook down. Jimin is still working on Namjoon’s foot, but his head is half cocked towards Jungkook—he’s clearly listening. A swirl of disbelief comes across this bond of emotions they’re sharing—Jimin can’t believe Jungkook is sticking up for him. Once again, Jimin’s low opinion of humans and witches settles sickeningly in Jungkook’s belly. And looking at him now, ordered to be silent, procuring countless snacks like a maid and rubbing the Supreme’s feet like a servant, can Jungkook really blame him? He wants to tell the demon that this isn’t the Namjoon he knows.

“He still brought that thing here. And—“ Namjoon set his jaw, “He tricked you into this ridiculous deal. Why SHOULDN’T we take advantage of it?”

“Because we’re better than that!” Jungkook snaps, “Jimin, get off the floor.”

The demon drops Namjoon’s leg and wobbles to his feet. He still looks just as out of it as he did when Crowley threw that necklace on him.

Namjoon clears his throat from the couch. “Yes, come sit on my lap instead.”

Jungkook gapes at the older man. At the nerve. Namjoon meets his incredulous expression head on so that they’re basically staring each other down. A muscle works in Jimin’s jaw but he has an order to follow. It’s deathly silent as the demon goes to settle in the Supreme’s lap.

“Straddle me.” Namjoon declares, never taking his eyes off of Jungkook.

Jimin pauses for only a second before slipping his thighs on either side of Namjoon’s waist. It’s almost exactly the same as when he climbed into Taehyung’s lap this morning—but the mood of the room is so different. Jungkook feels it when the slight revulsion passes through the bond from Jimin. If he contradicts Namjoon now, it’s a clear opposition to his Supreme. But the uneasy silence from the room, the negative feelings from Jimin, the smug—predatory look in Namjoon’s eyes; Jungkook can’t just let it happen.

“Joon…please reconsider. Don’t do this.” Jungkook pleads.

“Why, Kookie? This is his whole job, you know. This is the whole reason Lucifer allows him to do whatever he wants. Aren’t you curious?” He smirks and runs his fingers up Jimin’s arm, “Or are you just jealous because you want him all for yourself.”

“Joonie…” Seokjin interjects with a tremulous voice,“What is this proving? This isn’t like you.”

“Why are you all so CONCERNED about a DEMON’S feelings?” Namjoon barks, “Am I the only one who remembers that were it not for the deal he would’ve killed all of us by now?”

“That doesn’t make this okay.” Yoongi says quietly. Namjoon’s attention flickers over to the corner. For a second Jungkook thinks he sees consternation pass across his mentor’s face—there has to be something deeper going on with the Supreme. He wouldn’t do this.

Namjoon snorts and looks at the demon in his lap. “Take off your shirt, Jimin.”

The demon’s fingers are just shakily fumbling with the hem of his hoodie when Jungkook has had enough, “No! No—Jimin, you don’t have to—I release you from that order. You can get out of his lap too.” Jimin scrambles up and starts to back away. He only gets to standing before Namjoon snatches his wrist.

“Are you usurping my authority?” Namjoon asks quietly. Magick crackles in the air as Namjoon activates some spells as an obvious warning.

Jungkook swallows and forces himself to be brave, “Jimin isn’t under your authority; he’s under mine.”

“YOU’RE under my authority, Jungkook. Are YOU going to break that trust?” Namjoon’s voice is low, dangerous.

“Jimin, get away from him.” Jungkook mutters. The demon twists his wrist out of Namjoon’s grasp and backs away. Jungkook seizes his arm and draws the demon to his side, half-shielding him from Namjoon.

“You broke it first, Namjoon. The deal was put in place to protect us from harm and control Jimin’s magick—not abuse him and sexually molest him.” He’s seething, nearly spitting the words at a man he barely recognizes as the father figure who pulled him from the lowest moments of his life.

Namjoon, at Jungkook’s tone, pushes out of the sofa to stand toe-to-toe with him, “You dare contradict your Supreme? After everything I’ve done for you—you’ll really go against me like this?”

“I feel like I don’t even know you right now.” Jungkook says bitterly, and he takes just a second to breathe through the sense of betrayal before leveling his gaze back at Namjoon, “And I’m not a witch, remember? Calling you my Supreme is just a courtesy at this point.” He gestures around the room, “And not a courtesy I’m willing to bestow on someone who would treat a creature who just saved all of our lives so pettily.”

Namjoon stiffens in anger, “Courtesy? You mean like the courtesy of taking in a fucking drug addict, hopeless degenerate kid, and making him into a productive human being when everyone else had given up on him?”

Taehyung sucks in a sharp inhale from behind him.

Jungkook doesn’t even react, “Jimin, you no longer have to follow orders from Kim Namjoon. That includes any he has previously given you.”

Jimin’s emotions are a whirlwind of conflicting feelings, but all that happens is the demon says quietly, “Thank you.” Belatedly, Jungkook realizes that only now has Jimin been released from forced silence.

Namjoon flushes, “You ungrateful little—“ his spells light up.

Everyone reacts very quickly.

Seokjin and Taehyung step out from behind Jungkook. Hoseok draws a spell in the air to hold. Yoongi physically plants himself in front of Namjoon.

“Joon. Let it go. This isnt you.”

“Something’s wrong witb him.” Jungkook says, “His eyes—they don’t look right.”

“He was possessed.” Jimin says matter of factly. The rest of the coven whips around to look at him.

Namjoon bristles, “Fuck you, whore—I’m not fucking possessed—“ Yoongi winds a gleaming magickal lattice around the Supreme, keeping him from attacking anyone. “Are you really going to listen to that MONSTER—“

“WAS possessed. Was.” Jimin’s voice barely modulates. Jungkook expects the sarcasm, the eye roll, the biting wit. But Jimin is rather subdued since Jungkook has woken up. A subdued Jimin…Jungkook is flooded with imagery of Jimin, all fluffy and soft, in a variety of positions agreeably following his orders. He almost gets whiplash from the suddenness of these dirty thoughts and mentally chastises himself.

He realizes he’s still holding the demon’s wrist, giving him a head start on the source of his little fantasies, and gives it a little squeeze before dropping it. Jimin looks at him like he’s lost his mind. Jungkook quickly coughs to diffuse the mood, “Can you elaborate, Jimin?”

“Crowley must’ve possessed him when he found you. The seal on your tattoo was draining your magick into Namjoon for Crowley to take. That’s the only way he would’ve known so quickly after it was broken to come up here. The timing is too perfect. Plus all of you saying he’d been acting differently—“ Jimon shrugs. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“What do we do for him?” Taehyung worries his bottom lip and looks at Namjoon’s malevolent glare.

“He needs to stay here. Being possessed by something like Crowley takes its toll. That’s extremely powerful dark magick that just needs to work itself out. Luckily, we’re in a purified site. That’s why he’s getting worse—the darkness is being drawn out. In fact, it’s in all of your best interests to stay here for a little while until I can deal with Crowley. This is the one place I’m sure he can’t go.” Jimin pauses to catch his breath, shaking a little bit. Jungkook doesn’t miss it. It must be excruciating for Jimin to stay here. “Burn some sage, throw him into a eucalyptus bath, and he’ll be back to normal soon.” He holds up a hand, “Try very hard not to kick his ass. He will be obnoxious, and possibly violent.”

“Are we in danger?” Hoseok voices. “From that demon—Crowley?”

Jimin hitches a shoulder, “Maybe. Maybe not. Crowley wants Jungkook, and possibly me. But he is certainly not above leveraging your loved ones against you. And Jungkook, for one, is pretty susceptible to that.” Jungkook huffs, but Jimin doesn’t appear to mean it ill-intended. “In order to fulfill my part of the deal and protect you, I’m strongly suggesting you stay here until I have recovered.”

“Do you need to leave Tae’s house for that to happen?” Jungkook says lowly.

Jimin hesitates, “Ideally, yes.”

“Okay, we’re going.” Jungkook says firmly. He looks at his coven members, “I’m glad you’re all okay, and that we can be safe here for a while.”

“Ah, that reminds me.” Yoongi hums. His lattice has pushed Namjoon back down onto the couch, where occasionally a flash betraying the Supreme’s efforts to escape from confinement will peek through. The shorter witch comes over to Jungkook and Jimin. He nudges Jungkook out of the way with his hip and folds Jimin into a hug. The surprise ripples through the room and across the bond from Jimin’s emotions.

“You saved all of us, and we have done a poor job of repaying you.” He steps back from the demon—color a little high in his cheeks, breath catching a little in his chest—perhaps regretting touching the demon directly. “Thank you. I still am not thrilled about you being here, but thank you.”

And abruptly Yoongi turns and stalks off into the kitchen, not waiting for the demon to answer.

“Yes.” Seokjin says decidedly after Yoongi departs, “Thank you, Jimin. I suppose we owe you one now.”

Taehyung bounces forward and kisses Jimin full on the lips, “Thanks, sexy. I’m very glad we’re not dead.” He backs off, giggling, at the look on Jungkook’s face.

Jimin, for his part, looks somewhere between bewildered and indulgently amused.

Jungkook is very certain his own expression could be more closely categorized as “murderous” and “embittered”

Hoseok rolls his eyes at all of them and claps Jimin on the shoulder, “Thank you, Jiminnie.” Before disappearing into the kitchen after Yoongi.

The demon gazes after him with a lost look, “Since when do I get a nickname?”

Jungkook notices how pleased the demon looks but doesn’t comment on it. “I guess since now.”

“Hmm.” Jimin murmurs. Jungkook gets a little distracted by looking at him, so they continue to stand there for a moment. Jimin’s knee starts trembling and he reaches out to brace himself on the wall.

“Sorry. We should go. Can you take us to my home?” Jungkook checks himself where he’s reaching out to support the demon.

Jimin swallows and shakes his head, “I can’t do that until we get off of Taehyung’s property.”

Jungkook nods quickly and starts towards the front door. “We’d better head out, then.”

Jimin totters after him. “You should know, that there’s a high possibility Crowley will send something after us once we’re off this purified site.”

“Yeah, But you’re pretty banged up and staying here is only making it worse. Let’s go.” Jungkook opens the front door and Jimin stumbles out after him. They get about three steps down the porch stairs when it becomes clear that whatever effect the purification is having on Jimin is getting worse. He’s sweating, and shaking. And when they get down onto the lawn he lurches to the side and coughs up blood.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters. “This looks bad.”

Jimin presses the back of his hand against his lips, “It gets worse the closer I get to where the purification happened.” He manages a thin smile, “Demon nature fighting angel nature, and all that.” He breaks off again in a fit of coughing and he looks so small and fragile, suddenly, so Jungkook does the only thing he can think of—he sweeps Jimin up into his arms in a wedding carry.

Shock, confusion, and…a little embarrassment travel across Jimin’s bond, “What the fuck—“

Jungkook sets off steadily across the lawn, “I’m just—getting you off Tae’s property. Then I’ll put you down.”

I’ll have to, he thinks, I don’t know how much of this I can take.

Because touching the demon results again, like it always does, in a slew of inappropriate thoughts. But Jimin’s weight feels good in his arms—he’s not light, exactly, but it’s no hardship to stride across the grass with him clinging to his chest. He tries to focus on that instead of the increasingly x-rated thoughts invading his brain the longer he registers skin on skin contact with the demon. By the time he sets Jimin down on the street, he’s breathing hard. He’s sure his face is flushed and his hands don’t want to release Jimin where he’s bracing him to set him on his feet.

They stand there for a moment, locked into each other’s gaze. Jimin’s color starts to come back to his face as they are no longer on Taehyung’s property. Jungkook can’t help the appreciative stare at the warm color spreading down the demon’s neck to disappear under the collar of his hoodie.. Jungkook fits his fingers into the curve of Jimin’s waist like it’s the most natural thing. The demon starts to flush prettily in the cheeks; Jungkook is sure his own thoughts are loud and unsubtle,

“You have to let go. You have to let go if you don’t really want it, Jungkook.” His voice is raspy, and lower than normal. “We’re off the lawn.”

“I—I…” Jungkook can’t seem to formulate words. Or get his hands off of the demon. Or stop looking at his lips, and remembering the way they taste.

“If you want to kiss me so badly…maybe you should just kiss me.” Jimin whispers. “Why do you fight it so hard?”

Jungkook determinedly shuts his eyes and almost wrenches his fingers off the demon’s hip. “Because it isn’t real. It can’t be real. It’s your—this thing you do—“ he breaks off and stares down at his feet to not see whatever mocking expression Jimin must be sending him. He feels a swirl of something that is suspiciously like pity through the bond.

“Jungkook…”

“Just take us home. Please.” Jungkook can hear how pathetic he sounds. “If—if you can now that we’re off the purified ground.”

Jimin doesn’t answer. The next thing Jungkook feels is a light touch of Jimin’s hand on his arm and a whoosh. He stumbles onto his own lawn and sets off for the trailer immediately. Jimin follows behind, but at a distance. Embarrassment and arousal are slow to drain away. They buzz in his brain like a high and he all but runs to his room to put some distance between him and the demon, leaving him in the living room. And it’s fine, for a while. But the wall never quite goes up between them again and Jungkook can feel various pained lashes of emotion as Jimin deals with the aftermath of all the strain of the evening.

It’s pitch black outside. Jungkook is leaning against the door, arguing with himself. He wants to go out and take care of the demon—already an alarming emotion. But what can he do that Jimin can’t do for himself? What would be the point? And after Jimin had felt all this crazy attraction he has towards him…

He lasts about another hour.

When he tiptoes into the living room, Jimin looks up sharply. “Do you need something?”

Jungkook falters, taking in Jimin, shirtless, sprawled on his couch. “Uh—“ The demon’s flawless skin is covered in murky runes that Jimin seems to be prodding or otherwise examining when he turns towards Jungkook’s interruption.

His eyes drop. He honestly can’t help it. Jimin follows his gaze in the direction of his own torso. He jerks his head back up, and Jungkook must be imagining the slightly apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry, sorry.” Jimin mutters, and the hoodie blinks back into existence, covering him back up, “l didn’t know you’d be—“

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Jungkook says, “I didn’t mean to interrupt—you can…I was just—“ he takes a shaky breath, “That is…do you…need anything? Are you…okay?”

They stare at each other. The bond is incredulous again. Jimin’s face is a little harder to read, carefully blank.

“What?” Jimin’s voice is equal parts confused and amused.

Jungkook gestures between the two of them. “I can feel that you’re still in pain.” He abruptly feels silly. He knew he would, but still. “Do you—can I do anything?”

Jimin doesn’t react for a long moment.

Too long of a moment, Jungkook begins flailing, “Ah. Never mind. Of course, of course I can’t, it’s just—“

“Why would you ask?” Jimin’s mouth twists and the barest hint of a furrow appears in his forehead. “Is the bond that distracting? My barriers should be back up soon—you won’t have to feel—“

“No, it’s not that it doesn’t bother me. It’s just—“ Jungkook exhales, well aware of how insanely awkward this is, “I’m….sorry. For, everything today. For you having to deal with Crowley. And for—for what Namjoon—“ He shakes his head. “I’m just, sorry about all that. And I wanted to know if you needed help. That’s—that’s all. I’ll go back if—“

“You’re…sorry? I’m confused.” Jimin bites his lip, “It was part of the deal—me protecting you, following the coven’s orders—“

“No, I know. It’s—“ Jungkook wants to sink into the floor. Is it too much to ask to be struck by lightning? “I felt how it made you feel. When Namjoon was…and the necklace thing with Crowley.”

“Oh.”

The silence is loaded.

“What was that thing, anyway?” Jungkook asks, remembering the way the chain had yanked Jimin to the ground, “I thought you said Crowley wasn’t more powerful than you.”

Jimin winces as another ripple of pain wracks the bond; Jungkook nearly mirroring the action. “He’s not.” Jimin scoffs as well as he can manage in his weakened state, “That necklace doesn’t belong to him; it’s Lucifer’s. Although…” he chews thoughtfully on his lip for a moment, “The fact that he gave it to Crowley is problematic. But it’s the one thing Lucifer holds over all of the 7–His trump card to control us, if you will.”

“So it’s like, really powerful dark magick?”

“Actually no.” Jimin shifts uncomfortably, “They’re artifacts from Heaven’s Armory.” At Jungkook’s face he clarifies, “Where the angels and archangels store their weaponry. They’re made from the characteristics and magick of 7 angels called the 7 Holy Virtues. They’re pretty much our exact diametric opposite, and their powers cancel ours out.” He smiles a little ruefully, “Actualky, the only reason I was able to do the purification and not be in much worse shape was the exposure to Chastity’s essence. Crowley sort of lost the battle for himself by revealing he has it so soon.”

“Why is everything the 7 this, or the holy that?” Jungkook grumbles.

Jimin cracks a blinding, if fleeting, smile. “Heaven and Hell are very obsessed with titles.”

“So did Lucifer steal those from Heaven when you all fell?” Jungkook has perched on the edge of the sofa, too engrossed in the conversation to care about the proximity to the demon.

Jimin winces, But no pain travels across the bond, “Ah. No.” He shifts uncomfortably again, “I stole them. And it was well after we fell.”

Jungkook gapes at him, “But why? It’s the one thing that can control you and you would just hand it over? And how?? You’re a demon. Who would let you into the armory of the angels?”

Jimin smiles again, but it doesn’t touch his eyes, “Even angels are susceptible to my charms, Jungkook. All it took was getting one of the archangels alone, and I’m sure you can guess what happened after that. As for the why…” he sighs, “At one point I believed I was in love with Lucifer. And during that time I did…many things that acted against my own self-interest. I foolishly believed that he loved me too.” He studies his hands, “I now know that I am not capable of the emotion—nor is anyone capable of feeling it for me.”

Jungkook knows that’s probably the most important information, but his brain gets hung up on,

“Wait I’m sorry. You were in love with Satan? The devil, right? We’re talking about the same Lucifer?”

“Yes, Jungkook.” Jimin sounds a little peeved.

Jungkook slumps back on the couch. “This is insane. So when Crowley said Lucifer wanted you back…”

“I imagine he is getting suspicious of my long absence. I think he had become rather dependent on my adoration of him.”

“What happened?” Jungkook whispers, “What happened to make you leave?”

“He finally asked too much of me. And I finally realized that, regardless of how special you think you may be to him, in the end he sees us all as tools. And he will shackle and betray us.” Jimin’s mouth has pressed into a hard line. “Even those who cannot lie can delude themselves into thinking they’re serving a great cause—when it is really their own whims. The devil cannot be trusted, no matter how sincere he can seem. After all, he betrayed the father who created him.”

Jungkook feels so far beyond his depth. He sits in his dilapidated trailer, on an understuffed sofa, calmly discussing machinations so outside of his human concerns.He honestly can’t conceive of it. So he instead turns his attention to some practical matters that occur to him, “So Crowley will be back. I saw him take the necklace. He’ll come back for you.”

“And you, Jungkook. Don’t forget—you’re an important asset to us now. Yes, he will. As soon as I am able, I will ward your trailer against him. And then we will brand your coven members with a seal that will make them invisible to him. Although I imagine at some point this will all not be enough and I will have to actually kill him.”

“Kill him?”

Jimin shoots him a slitted glare, “I told you, I’m NOT going back.”

“Yeah but killing him…don’t the two of you have, history?” Jungkook winces when he thinks back over his own absurd jealousy.

Jimin startles him by barking out a laugh, “History? Are you implying Crowley was my—what? Boyfriend? Lover?”

“I mean…” Jungkook flounders, “Was he not? The way he was talking…”

“Jungkook.” Jimin is wearing an annoyingly patient look. “You will be very hard pressed to find a demonic creature who has not had my physical affections at one point or another. There’s no point in spending jealousy on it.”

“I’m not jealous.” Jungkook shoots back, wounded.

“Okay.” Jimin says, tone more reminiscent of himself—maybe he’s feeling better, “If you say so.”

“Whatever.” Jungkook snaps, lurching to his feet. “Obviously you don’t need my help so I’m just going to—“

“I never said that.” Jimin says quietly. “I never said I didn’t need your help.”

It’s probably calculated, the tone shift, the demure fold of the demon’s hands and the slope of his neck as he bows his head.

But damned if it doesn’t work like a charm on Jungkook.

“Well What can I do?” He says, irritation melting away.

“The pain will pass—it’s only a matter of time, just like with your Namjoon. But until then…” Jimin stands up and studies him. “If I showed you how, would you help me draw and activate the wards on your trailer?”

“Sure. I’m afraid I’m a pretty slow learner though…you might get frustrated. Do you need my magick to do it yourself?” Jungkook says eagerly.

Jimin’s eyes go wide, the demon almost gasps. “You would voluntarily allow me access to your magick? Just like that?”

“Well…yeah. If you need it, why not? Can you use it to make yourself better?” Jungkook doesn’t see what the big deal is.

“Yes…But. Why, Jungkook? We’ve been over all this, right? All your friends have told you to be wary of me, right? Why do you trust me so easily?”

“You do realize you’ve given me no reason not to trust you.” Jungkook looks at him candidly, openly.

“Jungkook, I blackmailed you into a deal by mutilating your friend and threatening to kill your coven.” The dry sarcasm is back.

“Yeah, But since the deal…”

“Just—don’t forget what I am, Jungkook. You shouldn’t relinquish your magick to anyone…especially not to me.” Jimin shakes his head at him gravely, “No matter what I say—don’t give it to me until you’re dead and the deal says you have to.”

Jungkook’s neck tingles unpleasantly. “Why are you warning me about it? Shouldn’t you just take advantage of me not knowing anything?”

Jimin ducks his head, looking a little shy, “Well. You did…you did do me a favor today. You released me from something distasteful. And you pulled the necklace off—saving us from Crowley. It’s fair. It’s fair that I not let you do something so stupid.”

By the end, Jungkook isn’t sure whether Jimin is trying to convince him or himself more.

“Okay. Okay Jimin. Thank you.”

“I’ll teach you how to draw them yourself, yeah? We’ll go slow.” The demon procures several sheets of paper out of the air. A heavy ebony fountain pen thumps onto the couch cushion next to where Jimin is seated. He pats the space next to him. Jungkook shakes his head, “I can’t sit that close.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and nudges the pen another foot away from himself before looking up with a theatrically anxious expression. “Is this okay, Master?”

“Why do I get so nervous when you call me that?” Jungkook mutters as he plops down a safe distance away and pulls some paper towards him on the coffee table.

“Maybe because you’re not naturally a dom.” Jimin teases.

Jungkook just quirks an eyebrow at him, “You’ve been inside my head—I think we BOTH know that’s not true.”

Jimin frowns, “Oh NOW you got jokes, I see.”

“And now you’re feeling better, I see.” Jungkook quips.

“I’ll feel better once Crowley can’t barge through your flimsy door in the dead of night and drag us both to hell.”

Jungkook pauses where he’d been doodling his name, trying to get a feel for the old-fashioned pen, “Is that likely?” He flicks his eyes over to the trailer door. It is, indeed, flimsy.

Jimin lifts his palms, “Who knows? He got pretty scorched by my ritual—but he also knows how much that takes it out of me. I think the chances are pretty great that soon we’ll see one of his many monsters. I doubt he’ll be back out after us himself before he comes up with a better way to use my binding necklace. Now that he’s lost the element of surprise, thanks to you.” Jimin shoots him a small smile. Jungkook has that familiar sense of being stunned. “The point is…the point is—this first ward looks like so…”

Jimin uses his own pen to sketch a complicated looping pattern without a single stray mark out of place. Jungkook does his best to copy it, but has to have the demon dramatically slow down his process in order to even get close. On top of that, his penmanship is so shaky he takes draft after draft to produce a clean enough version to set aside as correct. Each rune and ward has to be done this way, so the minutes and the hours tick by in companionable tedium. Jimin is patient (relatively) restraining himself to only two or three jokes about how worthless Jungkook is as a sourcerer (per hour). It’s a welcome change from the almost crazed delirium accompanying Jimin’s presence in his life until now.

However, the casual nature of their activities makes it far too easy to forget to mind his space. It happens slowly. It happens gradually. A scoot closer here on Jimin’s end to check his work. A lean over and reposition to see a clearer angle there from Jungkook. Standing up and passing over a paper before sinking back down. Hurried fingertips pressing down on the paper to hold it still from across the low coffee table. Their gravity is so subtle that Jungkook finds himself nearly pressed up against the demon the next time he has the presence of mind to pay attention. Thigh to thigh, hip to hip, arms nearly grazing each other every time one has to start a new sketch. He makes the fairly grave mistake of finishing the last sketch and turning to face the demon with a grin on his face, “I did it! They’re all done.”

Jimin is no more than two inches away from his face. Jungkook can feel the puffs of air from Jimin’s exhales on his upper lip. His pupils dilate as he zeroes his focus in on Jimin’s mouth. The demon has appeared to do the same. They just breathe like that in each other’s space for a moment as the triumphant grin Jungkook is wearing slowly slips away.

“Good job.” The demon says quietly.

A fantasy comes to Jungkook, as it always does. But this one makes him squirm—not from explicit content—but by how soft it is. He wants to run his fingers through Jimin’s hair, push his bangs back out of his eyes. He wants to fit himself behind the shorter demon and nuzzle into his hair. As Jungkook has these embarrassing impulses, Jimin’s face betrays his own surprise at the content of his “theoretically erotic” musings.

“Interesting…I’m trying to decide if this counts as a kink.” His tongue snakes out to lick his own lips, leaving a slick, shiny trail along the fat swell of his bottom lip. Jungkook doesn’t swoon, but he doesn’t entirely “not” swoon either.

“You know,” Jimin’s voice is soft and he leans one more inch closer, closing the gap between then until one big, chest expanding breath from one of the men would bring them into contact with each other “There’s no rules about YOU touching ME.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches, and Jimin’s seems to stop altogether. There’s a moment where the inch between them is full of possibilities—endless possibilities—and Jimin’s smirking assurance of pleasure hitherto unmatched. Jungkook trembles under the weight of Jimin’s gaze.. He can’t do it. He shouldn’t do it. He won’t.

Jungkook starts shaking his head automatically, denial rising in the back of his throat. Already banishing the vision of leaning in and over Jimin, pressing him into the cushions and leaving his own trails and marks on that ridiculous bottom lip.

Jimin huffs and retreats a little bit, “Why? Because it wouldn’t be REAL?” He stretches out the consonants of “real” to make the word hard and mocking. “What does that matter? It’ll FEEL real—it’ll feel really goddamn good—“

“N-no, Jimin. I’d better go to bed.” Jungkook sighs and slips off the couch to stand a safe distance away.

Jimin pouts.

Jungkook is DEVASTATED by the sight of a pouting Jimin.

“I’m not accustomed to rejection. Especially this much rejection. Especially this much rejection from someone who can’t stop thinking about me in that way.” Jimin is nearly whining.

“Goodnight, Jimin.” Jungkook has to nearly punch himself to get his head to turn in the direction of his bedroom, and his heavy, unwilling feet to start their plodding journey.

“Wait—Jungkook.” Jimin’s voice is back to normal, no whining or cajoling so Jungkook chances a glance back at him.

The demon runs a hand back through his hair end gestures with the other to all their completed wards. “I need you to touch these—exactly in the center, with your dominant hand—and use your magick to activate them. Please. Before you go.”

A little undone at the word “please” leaving Jimin’s lips, Jungkook staggers back over and starts pressing his hand against paper after paper. The wards light up a soft, fluffy blue. So different from the murky dark runes splashed across Jimin’s chest and back earlier. The demon busies himself sticking the completed and shining wards to the walls, where they melt into the aluminum and plywood as though they were part of the wall itself. When the table is cleared, the runes are softly glowing from every wall and door and window. Even on the floor, and the plumbing, and several around Jungkook’s bed. Jimin visibly relaxes when they’re all in place, and Jungkook can feel some of the remaining tension ebb out of their bond.

The wall between them is almost completely restored, Jimin’s magick having retreated back behind its safety now that the vessel was no longer compromised or traumatized. Jungkook abruptly feels tired. Exhausted even, now that it’s mostly just him in his head at the end of a very long day.

“G’night” he mumbles as he shuffles off to his room.

Jimin stands by the edge of the couch looking more and more like his untouchable original self as the hours have gone by. “Good night, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook can spare a smile for that, “Since when do I get a nickname.”

Jimin shrugs carelessly and turns away, “Since right now, I guess.”

The door closes between them and Jungkook faceplants on his bed. For all his big talk, his resolve against the demon is waning. He knows that, just like Jimin and Namjoon’s healing, the contact between him and Jimin is only a matter of time.

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