Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jungkook isn’t lonely.

He’s just a little lost, maybe.

Lost in the monotony of life, getting up early, going to work, coming home from work, going to bed early, rinse and repeat. 

The only thing he looks forward to these days are train rides. 

Jungkook doesn’t know when it started, but after several weekends home alone, he decided that he needed to get up and leave his apartment for once. And ever since then, he’s taken the train into the city every weekend just for an excuse to get out. 

His coworkers have always found it peculiar. They ask him why he doesn’t just move there since he goes so often, but Jungkook doesn’t really care about the destination, it’s secondary. He mostly just goes for the journey.

There’s something calming about the ride, train cars rattling along the tracks and jostling Jungkook’s forehead against the wide window. He feels at ease here, watching the trees whiz by, eyes catching on the houses, few and far between, dotted out in the distance. 

He chooses the same seat every day, toward the back of the train car so he can see all the people that board and deboard. There are some regulars, like himself. Sometimes they acknowledge each other and sometimes they don’t, but Jungkook is always more interested in the new faces. Excited for the people that are going on their own new adventure.

But lately, these train rides too have started to feel monotonous. His stomach clenches as if a rope was tied around his middle, suffocating his organs, squeezing and pulling and yanking him in every direction. 

He starts to feel like he’s missing something.

It’s a gloomy day when he first notices the train stop with no station.

Jungkook glances out of the window, body swaying forward with the sudden stop on the rails. His eyebrows furrow when the intercom buzzes overhead, half-expecting an announcement about technical difficulties, but all that comes over the speaker is the conductor’s garbled voice announcing the name of the town that they’ve stopped in. Jungkook tilts his head to the side but the driver’s voice is too distorted and he can’t quite make out what it says.

He racks his brain thinking back to the numerous times he’s taken this line and he can’t for the life of him recall ever stopping in this town. He swivels his head left and right, resisting the urge to cross the aisle and plaster his face against the window in search of the train platform. Jungkook straightens up a little in his seat to peer over the tops of the seats in front of him, but nobody else seems as confused at the sudden stop, almost like they haven’t even realized that they’ve stopped in the first place.

Jungkook doesn’t have long to ponder it though, because soon enough, the train starts up again and continues along their normal path. Jungkook slowly leans his head against the window once more, pushing the strange stop to the back of his mind. He focuses on the gray clouds padding the sky overhead, threatening to burst, fingers tapping against the handle of his umbrella as he waits for the clouds to overflow, but they never do. Jungkook sends a silent thanks to the sky for holding in the droplets for as long as it takes for him to get back home.

It’s only when he’s safely inside that he realizes it. The rope tied around his stomach has loosened. He takes a deep breath and feels his lungs expand easily for the first time in months.

He exhales.

It happens again the next weekend. 

Jungkook had almost forgotten about the strange stop with no platform, but as the brakes hiss beneath him, he finds his curiosity piqued once more. He peeks his head out into the aisle to see if anyone makes a move to get up, but it’s almost like no one can even hear the intercom, or maybe they just don’t find it as odd as Jungkook does. He swallows and straightens back up in his seat trying to shake off the feeling of unease.

No one gets off at the stop, at least not in Jungkook’s section, and no one gets on either. Vaguely, Jungkook registers that he doesn’t hear the sound of the doors opening at all, he strains his ears but can’t seem to hear that telltale whoosh of the mechanical doors sliding apart. He tips his head against the window again searching for any sign of movement outside, but there’s nothing except for a sea of browning sunflowers, droopy and out of season, swaying sadly with the erratic gusts of wind.

The more times they stop at the place with no train platform, the more Jungkook’s curiosity grows. 

Still, no one ever gets on at the stop, and, still, no one ever gets off. He keeps his eyes peeled, body thrumming with anticipation, only to be let down when they start rolling along the tracks once more. 

Jungkook has grown used to the stationless stop now, forehead tipped against the glass as if this time, maybe this time, he’ll see a platform. But of course, he never does. 

Winter gives way to spring, and Jungkook watches the way the sunflower field starts to brighten just a bit more. They’re not fully bloomed yet, but they don’t look quite as sad and downtrodden. Jungkook could even be convinced that they were swaying toward the sun these days, and not just being moved by the harsh winter winds.

Until one day, something feels off.

The air is charged somehow in the train car and Jungkook feels that tightening in his stomach, a feeling he had almost forgotten about. He crosses his arms over his midsection securely, bending forward slightly as if he could wiggle the imaginary rope loose, but it just squeezes tighter. He focuses his attention out of the window and when he finally reaches his stop, his eyes widen in shock.

They never pulled into the stop with no platform. 

In fact, Jungkook doesn’t even think he saw the sunflowers pass by his window. He swallows thickly, scrambling to get up before the doors close and distractedly falling in line with his fellow passengers as they all scramble to make their way home.

Jungkook walks a little slower that night, mind racing but his feet dragging, rubbing lightly over his stomach to try and ease the tension.

Jungkook feels more and more uneasy when they miss the stop again the following weekend. He keeps his eyes glued to the window, afraid to blink, but he never catches the sunflowers, and he never hears the conductor over the intercom. 

He tries to convince himself that it was just a mess up in the route, that they finally fixed it and there’s nothing to worry about. It was strange anyway, obviously a mistake on their part, but that apprehensive feeling in the pit of his stomach doesn’t loosen. As if the rope tied around his insides is trying to yank him back toward that field. He presses his fist hard into his belly button and sinks down further into his seat.

It’s pouring when Jungkook finally sees the sunflowers again.

Jungkook watches, mouth slightly agape as the petals bob harshly with every raindrop hurtling from the sky above. His heart seizes and he sits up straight in his seat as the train slowly rolls to a stop. The conductor’s staticky voice echoes through the speakers above once more, words indistinguishable but Jungkook isn’t really listening to them anyway.

His hand slowly wraps around the strap of his backpack tucked between his legs on the floor and he curses himself for not bringing his umbrella, on today of all days. He sits frozen for just a fraction of a second longer, contemplating his next move.

How dumb of an idea is it to get off at a place he’s never heard of, with no station, in the middle of a storm? What if he gets lost and the train doesn’t come back again? It hadn’t been showing up to this stop for several months, what makes today so different?

Jungkook sucks in a deep breath and it whistles through his clenched teeth before he hauls his backpack over his shoulder, stumbling into the aisle without a second thought. He puts his hands gently on the backs of each chair he passes, trying to steady himself and apologizing to the other passengers he bumps into, but they don’t acknowledge him as he makes his way toward the doors.

When he breezes into the center compartment, he waits patiently for the doors to slide open. They seem to be taking longer than usual and Jungkook vaguely remembers thinking that he could never hear them open whenever they stopped here in the past. 

He peers through the small, circular window in the door, wiping away the fog with the edge of his sleeve and watches the sunflowers nod along with the rain. He raises up a little on the balls of his feet to see down, wondering how far the drop is to the ground with no platform to catch him. He squints but the rain is coming down so hard that he can’t see far enough and he huffs a little, rocking back on his heels.

Jungkook glances over at the train attendant, dutifully checking ticket stubs, but he can’t seem to catch his eye, no matter how much Jungkook ducks around to get in his line of sight. He can feel his heart beating dangerously in his throat, blood thundering through his ears, but it doesn’t seem like the doors are going to open. 

And why would they? There’s no station to open up to.

Jungkook heaves a breath, shoulders sagging as he turns to go back to his seat, but then he hears it, the steady whoosh of the train doors sliding against the side of the train compartment.

Jungkook pauses a moment to stare out at the expanse of field in front of him, horizon obscured by fog and thick sheets of rain. He takes a deep breath and before he can talk himself out of it, he jumps down from the train and braces himself for impact.

He stumbles when his feet find solid ground quicker than he thought, knees smacking painfully against brick and hands slapping down to catch himself before he face-plants. He blinks his eyes open slowly, furrowing his brows at the nearly pristine brick flooring before shakily pushing himself up to his feet.

His eyes go wide as he realizes he’s unmistakably landed on a train platform.

He whirls around and finds the train already chugging away in the distance. He watches the smoke for a moment, curling up through the atmosphere and blending in with the clouds, before he turns back around to look at the station.

“Where did this come from?” Jungkook wonders out loud, flinching as his voice echoes, bouncing between the pillars on either side of him. It’s not that big of a platform, to be fair, just enough room for one bench and an analog clock, but it’s still big enough that there’s no way Jungkook missed it when he looked out of the window.

He scrubs at his eyes a little disbelievingly and immediately feels the tightness in his stomach release, as if the rope tugging him to the field was dropped on one end, now hanging slack around Jungkook’s abdomen. He rubs absentmindedly at his stomach before he notices that his clothes are still completely dry.

He glances up to find an awning just wide enough to cover the platform, rain pinging so noisily against the tin of the roof that Jungkook wonders how he missed it.

He moves away from the train tracks, the heels of his boots clicking ominously against the brick and echoing up into the roof, weaving through the sounds of rainfall overhead. Jungkook wraps his fingers securely around his backpack straps, shrugging his shoulders up into his neck as he steps toward the far edge of the platform, gazing out at the field of sunflowers that are still being steadily pelted by raindrops.

He jumps when a flash of lightning spiders across the sky, illuminating the tops of the trees and creating eerie shapes at the forest's edge just beyond the field. Jungkook swallows harshly, counting the seconds under his breath and bracing himself. He gets all the way up to seven before the inevitable clap of thunder echoes across the field, so loud Jungkook thinks he feels his bones rattle with it, splitting him further apart at the seams. 

Jungkook can’t remember if seven seconds is long enough or not, how close that means the storm actually is. He glances back over his shoulder at where the train disappeared. He’s come this far already, so he pulls his backpack over his head to provide some shield from the rain and sets out across the field, heading toward the tree canopy, for shelter if nothing else.

His shoes feel too small for his feet as he sloshes carefully through the mud, toes suffocating in their confines but he continues forward, trying not to disturb the flowers anymore than he needs to. He ignores the way his socks are already soaked through, squishing uncomfortably with every step.

He should stop and turn back around, he thinks vaguely, eyes flitting up to the sky as another bolt of lightning streaks past. If he goes back now, he might make it back in time for the next train before it gets too dark. But the minute the thought enters his head, the rope tightens, so quickly Jungkook lurches forward at the pressure.

He holds his breath as he feels the pull, tugging him toward the mouth of the forest. Jungkook doesn’t ignore it now, speeding up his steps to try to get out of the rain as fast as possible, even though he’s already completely soaked to the bone.

When Jungkook passes under the first tree branch, a wall of silence closes in around him. His breath catches in his throat as he looks over his shoulder at the rain still pounding down into the dirt below, but he can’t hear the rainfall anymore, just the gentle rustle of leaves.

He turns back around and has to hold back a yelp, jaw slack as he stares at a stone house, almost completely overrun with plants.

Was that there before? He wonders, eyes tracing the branches of ivy as they tangle together along the walls of the house.

At first glance, Jungkook thought the house was abandoned, plants let loose and strangling the exteriors, but on a closer look, Jungkook thinks it might be intentional. The house looks well-kept, if a little rustic, and the plants seem like they were planted with care rather than abandon. There’s just a lot of them.

Jungkook wonders if it was a poor attempt to blend in with the forest, because despite all of the plants, something about the house shimmers . Jungkook blinks his eyes a few times to shake the raindrops from his lashes, but the house still glows somehow, brighter than anything around it despite the lack of actual lights.

He stares until his eyes begin to blur, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder. He takes a cautious step toward the house and immediately the rope around his midsection loosens, going completely slack.

The closer Jungkook walks, the easier it is for him to breathe, sucking in air almost greedily as if he hasn’t been able to inhale correctly for months.

He bounds up the steps before he can lose his nerve, raising a hand up to knock on the door before he notices a makeshift sign in the window that reads ‘OPEN FOR BUSINESS.’

Jungkook stares for a moment too long, debating if it’s an actual store or not. He steels himself, pressing lightly just above the handle and feels the door give way almost immediately. He flinches as the hinges grate loudly against each other, before revealing a dimly lit hallway. He gingerly steps over the threshold and is met with a wall of warmth. He scuffles his shoes along the mud mat inside before taking a squeaky step forward.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Jungkook calls out, ducking his head to dodge the bushels of dried flowers hanging from the ceiling. “I don’t mean to get water all over your clean floors, but it’s raining pretty hard out there.”

“What mess?” A voice responds from the room to his right. Jungkook blinks and turns his head toward the voice, walking toward the entryway of the adjoining room.

“The rain,” Jungkook starts to say, glancing at the floor beneath him but there’s no water there. He drags a hand up to tug at the front of his hair but it no longer hangs damp in his face, curled in dry ringlets just below his brow bone. “Oh,” he whispers, clutching his hands tight into fists.

Jungkook walks through the doorway revealing the most cluttered room Jungkook has ever seen. Books and crumpled paper litter the floors, haphazardly stacked between shelves taller than he’s ever seen. Jungkook looks up, neck straining to see the top of the ceiling, but it seems to go on forever. He swears he sees a skylight at the top though, beams of sunlight arching down. He scrunches his eyebrows together as he lowers his chin again. The house didn’t look that tall from the outside, Jungkook thinks to himself. Maybe three stories, maximum, but when he tries to follow that train of thought, he finds himself lost, eyes refocusing on the room in front of him once more.

“Hello?” Jungkook calls out again. His eyes fall on a small till just to the left of a large fireplace, which lays dormant and full of ash. He jumps a little when a man pops up from behind the counter.

“Welcome back!” he says, dusting off the front of his shirt. Jungkook thinks the gesture is completely unnecessary; he’s never seen someone look so perfect in his life, broad shouldered and handsome and not a hair out of place.

“Welcome back?” Jungkook asks, shifting his weight uncomfortably, burning under the attention. “Sorry, I’ve never been here before,” he says. The man stares back at him, making no move to correct his mistake, eyes shining with something that Jungkook can’t quite place. “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” Jungkook says shyly, clearing his throat.

“Yes, of course,” he says after a moment, mouth turning up into a secret smile. “I’m Seokjin.” He moves to straighten up some of the things on the counter before dragging his eyes back to Jungkook, patient and waiting.

“I’m Jungkook,” he responds quickly, eyes following the swift movement of his hands across the countertop, almost inhumanly fast.

“Yes,” Seokjin replies, shooting him another one of those smiles. “What can I help you with today?” he asks, tilting his head a little to the side. “Oh wait!” he shouts, holding his hand up before Jungkook can even get a word out. “Let me see if I can guess.”

Jungkook snaps his mouth shut, a little confused, and waits as Seokjin stares back at him, hands on his hips and eyes scanning him up and down. Jungkook shifts a little uncomfortably under his gaze and Seokjin smiles in apology. “I’m not seeing anything yet, sorry,” he says, “but if I focus a little harder.” He chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning forward a little over the counter before he lets out a puff of breath. “Nope, I’ve got nothing.”

“Can you normally tell?” Jungkook asks, a little warily.

“Well, I’ve never been able to before,” Seokjin admits, “but that doesn’t keep me from trying!”

Jungkook nods, rolling his lips between his teeth and attempting to school his expression into something neutral. He turns back to one of the shelves, focusing on the stacks of trinkets and ignoring the way the back of his neck tingles, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder at the distracting man behind the counter. 

“Are you sure I can’t help you find anything?” he hears, face flushing as he shakes his head, avoiding Seokjin’s eyes.

“No,” he says, quietly, tapping absentmindedly on the outside of his own thigh. “I’m just looking around.”

He bunches his shoulders up to his neck, tightening his hands on his backpack straps as he weaves back further into the store, attempting to get away from Seokjin’s prying eyes.

He walks toward the back wall, eyes slowly widening as he surveys the shelves. He can’t seem to find a system for the displays at all. Most of the shelves are so completely overrun with plants that Jungkook can’t even see what they’re actually putting up for sale behind all of the leaves. 

There’s several unmarked bottles, some too dark to see inside of, but the clear ones are just as peculiar, with everything from dried herbs and gems to roots and sticks. Jungkook huffs a little wondering who would come to this house in the woods to buy a jar full of rocks. He sees a few terrariums that seem to be housing snails and he taps a little on the glass to make sure they’re still alive.

Jungkook has to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he passes a jar of dirt simply labeled “stardust.” He quirks his mouth a little. The shop sort of seems like a scam and Jungkook starts to understand why it’s as deserted as it is.

He continues to walk back into the store, eyes slowly glazing over the items until he finds himself back at the counter, standing in front of Seokjin.

“Did you find everything alright?” Seokjin asks. His smile is warm but his eyes bore into Jungkook’s own and he shivers at the intensity of it.

“Oh, sorry,” Jungkook whispers. “I thought I was going to the back of the store.”

“You were,” Seokjin says, simply, the smile never leaving his face.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder, but to his surprise he doesn’t find the shelves he’s been wading through for what felt like hours. He finds the front entrance. He turns back around, eyes unfocused as he stares over Seokjin’s shoulder, eyes latched onto a crack in the paint behind him.

“I think I got lost,” he whispers, swaying a little on his feet.

“That happens a lot,” Seokjin replies, fingers tapping an unsettling beat against the glass counter. “There’s a lot of shelves packed in here, it’s easy to get turned around.”

“I guess so,” Jungkook replies, uneasily.

“So,” Seokjin says, fingers pausing on the counter. “Did you find everything okay?” he repeats.

“Oh, I wasn’t really looking for anything in particular,” Jungkook says, eyes following Seokjin’s as they slide down to Jungkook’s hand, dangling loosely at his side, a glimpse of something shiny catching in the light.

“I don’t remember picking this up,” Jungkook says a little dreamily, staring down at the ring sitting in his palm. The band is silver, so thin that Jungkook just barely makes out the twisted vines carved into the side. And it’s warm, already acclimated to Jungkook’s body temperature, so he must have been holding it for quite some time.

“I can ring you up?” Seokjin says, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Pun definitely intended.” He slides over to the cash register and motions Jungkook forward.

“Oh, I don’t really need this,” Jungkook says, apologetically, still holding the ring in his palm. “I wasn’t really planning on coming into a shop today.”

“Most people don’t plan on coming here,” Seokjin replies, eyes boring into Jungkook’s. “Why don’t you keep it anyway,” Seokjin shrugs. “Consider it a thank you for being a regular customer.”

“A regular?” Jungkook asks, swaying forward a little wearily and leaning his hip against the glass of the countertop, feeling the cool through his clothes. “I told you, this is my first time here?” The words come out as a question, feeling less and less sure of himself.

“Of course,” Seokjin says, smiling again. “Then consider it a thank you for keeping me entertained tonight.”

“Entertained?” Jungkook asks, slowly placing the ring on the counter top, watching it rattle unevenly against the surface. He taps at it to keep it quiet, placing a finger gently against the metal, but the minute he pulls his hand back it starts rattling again.

Seokjin glances over at the ring, a small frown etched across his face before turning back to Jungkook with a carefully blank expression.

“Yes, entertained,” he nods. “I’ve been sitting behind this counter all day and not a single customer has come through.” He reaches a finger out to slide the ring closer to Jungkook, metal scraping against the top of the glass. “You’ve saved me from utter boredom.”

Jungkook picks up the ring and slides it onto his pointer finger but it doesn’t quite make it past his second knuckle. He huffs and tugs it off, having to twist a little for it to give way.

“Try your fourth finger,” Seokjin instructs, leaning his elbows on the countertop between them. “I can adjust it for you if you wish,” he offers, then continues on so quietly Jungkook has to strain to hear it, “but I don’t think I’ll have to.”

Jungkook blinks back at him but does as he’s told, sliding the ring onto his fourth finger.

“Ah, see!” Seokjin claps his hands together. “It’s a perfect fit!”

“I guess it is,” Jungkook mumbles, moving his thumb to rub at the metal on his finger, sliding the ring around in circles. “Are you sure about me keeping this?” Jungkook asks, worrying at his bottom lip.

“Absolutely,” Seokjin says, waving his hand at him. “Just do me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Jungkook asks, fidgeting nervously under Seokjin’s gaze.

“Promise you’ll come back to visit sometime?”

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes out, glancing around the room. “Yeah,” he nods, ducking his head down to stare at his shoes. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Then I look forward to our future meetings,” Seokjin says, quietly. “Thank you for stopping by,” he says, voice much more formal than it was before.

Jungkook nods and all of a sudden the energy in the store becomes stifling. He clenches his hands into fists as he gasps a little, warmth clogging up his airways. He swallows thickly before Seokjin’s voice filters through.

“You better get home now,” he says, walking around the counter to usher Jungkook to the doorway. “It’s getting dark and I don’t want the train to leave you behind.”

“Home?” Jungkook whispers, letting Seokjin push him toward the front door, eyes never leaving the ring, warm and comforting on his finger.

“Yes, Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin nods, opening the door for Jungkook but not passing the threshold himself. “Home.”

The word grates on Jungkook’s ears a little, and he shakes his head to rid himself of the feeling.

“Right,” Jungkook nods, allowing Seokjin to push him through the door. “Time to go home.”

He leaves with one final wave over his shoulder but refuses to look back at the little shop, shimmering and overrun with ivy. He keeps his eyes straight ahead as he finally makes it out from under the canopy of trees and through the field of sunflowers. He only realizes that it’s still raining when he reaches the train station, shoes smacking against the brick and splashing into a leftover puddle.

His clothes are once again completely soaked through and he immediately misses the warmth of the shop, thumb still trailing gingerly over the silver ring on his finger.

Just as Jungkook starts to wonder when the train will arrive, he glances up and realizes it’s right in front of him, waiting at the platform with the door open for Jungkook to slide right through.

Jungkook drifts down the aisle to his regular seat. Every inhale hurts his throat, air wheezing out of his mouth until he finally sits back down, head tipped toward the window once more. 

Only when the train starts moving forward and the sunflower field is far out of sight, is Jungkook finally able to breathe again. The air rattles out of his lungs, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, all that’s left in its place is numbness. 

Jungkook walks back to his apartment that night much later than usual, feet kicking through puddles that splash up to his knees. He bounds up the stairs to his apartment and wrenches open the door before slamming it shut securely behind him. His sneakers squeak harshly against the linoleum floor and he almost loses his balance on the slippery surface when he attempts to pry them off his feet.

He leaves them in a heap just inside the doorway before stripping off his own clothes, once again weighed down with water. They drop against the floor next to his feet with a resounding splat, water already puddling up around the dark fabric. Jungkook leaves it there, shoving the pile aside with his foot and grabs a dirty towel draped over his kitchen chair. He rubs it harshly through the ends of his hair, shivering as the water droplets begin to dry against his skin.

He ambles over to his bed, and launches himself under the covers, skin sticking to the sheets uncomfortably. He nuzzles under the fabric, pulling it up and over his head, shivering until his own breathing warms up the space underneath the blanket.

Jungkook clenches his eyes shut as he thinks about Seokjin, the pretty tilt of his mouth, the way his shirt stretched taut across his shoulders and draped loosely over his waist.

He can hear the low thrum of chatter in the restaurant below his apartment, the clang of metal utensils scraping against dinner plates and the steady beat of music vibrating up to his bed. He scratches at his ear and presses his head further into his pillow to dull the hum of sound waves trickling through the recesses of his mattress.

“Home, sweet home,” Jungkook mutters to himself, but the word ‘home’ rings bitterly through his head, just slightly off-key.

The rope tightens.

Chapter Text

The work week drags on for Jungkook.

His hand is weighed down with the feeling of the ring on his finger, reminding him of where he could be, reminding him of where he was last happy.

He itches to go back to the little shop tucked away just behind the forest’s edge of that stationless train stop, and he definitely can’t seem to shake his thoughts from Seokjin. Jungkook’s skin grows warm when he thinks about his kind eyes and handsome features. 

He lasts about half the week, endless hours of staring at the clock, before one sharp tug to his midsection has him giving in.

He calls in sick and sprints to the train station.

He feels jittery as he sits in his normal seat, leg jiggling up and down and fingers tapping against his kneecap in an uneasy rhythm. The train car is less crowded than it normally is on the weekend and Jungkook anxiously looks out the window, wondering if the stop that isn’t a stop will actually come. 

He doesn’t even know if the train lines are on the same schedule during the week and as the train chugs along he starts to get more and more antsy until he finally sees it, the field of sunflowers looking much more lively than when Jungkook saw them last. 

He bolts out of his seat, heart beating so fast he thinks he’ll choke on it and practically leaps through the doors as they open. He’s more prepared for the landing this time, and only stumbles a little when his feet meet the ground of the train station. It’s not raining today, thankfully, although the sky does look a little grim and Jungkook hopes it’ll hold off until he gets inside.

He doesn’t waste time, gathering his bearings quickly and heading off toward the edge of the forest. The imaginary rope is still tugging insistently and he pictures himself grabbing hold of it and using it to guide him back to the house, just beyond the canopy of trees.

Jungkook huffs when he realizes he’s been walking around in circles for about fifteen minutes. He stops in his tracks and frowns, rubbing lightly at his stomach. He could have sworn the shop was in this clearing. He whirls around to look back at the entrance of the forest and that’s when he feels it, a steady thrumming energy rolling under his skin and the air around starts to warm up, the same kind of warmth he felt emanating from the shop last weekend.

He turns his back on the sunflower field once more and lets out a deep breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding, shoulders sagging in sympathy with the release.

There stands the little shop, overrun with ivy and just barely blending into the background of the forest, but the faint glowing around its edges is impossible to miss.

Jungkook doesn’t question its sudden appearance, too relieved to finally find the shop again as he jogs up the front steps. He finds himself breathing easier as he steps over the threshold, as if he was leeching energy from the shop itself with every inhale. He feels the rope drag limply behind him as the door clicks shut.

“Hello again,” Seokjin says, surprise coloring his features.

“You remember me?” Jungkook whispers, taking a step forward.

Seokjin furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, surveying Jungkook from across the room.

“Of course I remember you,” he nods, leaning his hip against the side of the counter. “My favorite customer.”

“Oh,” Jungkook blushes, ducking his head as he steps further into the room, carefully moving around the stacks of books littering the floor.

“You’re still wearing it.” 

Seokjin’s soft voice stops Jungkook in his tracks. He glances up to find Seokjin staring down at Jungkook’s hands as they bunch up into the hem of his sweatshirt.

“Yes,” Jungkook nods, even though it wasn’t a question. He nervously pulls his sleeves over his knuckles to hide the ring from view. “Is that,” he swallows, “is that okay?”

“Is it okay?” Seokjin asks, eyes finally clearing as he snaps his gaze back up to meet Jungkook’s. “Of course it’s okay,” he says, his mouth turning up at the corners. “It’s yours, after all,” he says. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, taking a tentative step forward toward the till. “Yeah, I like it a lot.”

“Good,” Seokjin replies with a definitive nod. He clears his throat and straightens up behind the counter. “You’re here earlier than usual, I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Earlier than usual?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion. Seokjin hums, offering no further explanation and claps his hands once in front of him, making Jungkook jolt a little at the sudden noise.

“Is there anything I can help you find today?” he asks, a professional smile once again plastered across his face. 

“I don’t really know,” Jungkook responds, scuffing his shoes against the floor and twisting around to eye the shelves on either side of him.

“Well, if I might make a suggestion?” Seokjin offers.

“A suggestion?” he asks, eyes wide. “I mean, yes, please!” he rushes to say, standing up a little straighter. “If you’re not too busy, of course?”

“I’m never too busy for you,” Seokjin says, stepping out from around the counter. Jungkook finds his eyes slowly trailing down his body, vaguely amazed at having never seen Seokjin’s legs before this moment. He’s elegant as he walks, heeled boots clicking against the floorboards as he weaves through the shelves expertly.

“Do you mind following, Jungkook?” he calls from the depths of the shelves and Jungkook clears his throat, tamping down the happiness he feels at Seokjin remembering his name.

“Yes,” he blushes, rushing to follow the sound of his footsteps. “I can follow.”

“There was a shelf that was curious about you the other day,” Seokjin mumbles to himself. Jungkook huffs out a laugh but quickly swallows it when he catches Seokjin’s sharp gaze snap back toward him. “Why? Are you surprised that they would be curious about you?” he asks. “You are quite unlike anyone we usually get in the store.”

Jungkook shrugs a little helplessly, unsure of how to play along but weirdly flattered at the words nonetheless, fighting back a blush. 

“I can’t quite recall which one it was, though,” he mumbles as he rounds another corner, running the tips of his fingers along the wood grain of the bookcases. “They can be so particular, sometimes.”

They pass a series of bookshelves that look almost identical to Jungkook, the same unlabeled jars spaced evenly apart and so close to the edge of the shelf that Jungkook subconsciously holds his breath, worried that even the lightest puff of air would send them toppling to the ground.

“What’s the difference?” Jungkook asks warily, hurrying to keep up with Seokjin’s long strides, but his line of thought is cut off when he feels it, a sort of buzzing in the atmosphere around them.

“Aha!” Seokjin says, plunging his hand into a shelf, narrowly missing a few jars, which don’t even seem to shift at the sudden movement. Jungkook blinks, bewildered, as he watches Seokjin’s arm disappear into the shelf, up to his shoulder now. 

Surely the shelves aren’t that deep?

Jungkook peers around Seokjin’s frame but all he sees is darkness inside the bookcase. Seokjin’s arm is only visible up to the elbow before Jungkook’s sight drops off into nothing. He blinks a few times as if to clear his vision but Seokjin finds what he’s looking for soon enough, hauling something out from the depths of the shelf.

“Here we go!” he says triumphantly, a large smile pulling at his mouth. The jar in his hand is rattling somewhat aggressively and Jungkook takes a wary step back before it lurches forward toward him. He puts his hand up defensively and catches the jar with ease, almost as if it was magnetized toward his own palm.

“What?” Jungkook whispers a little uselessly, but Seokjin is already walking ahead and Jungkook’s fingers grip tighter around the jar, nails scratching against the grooves on the lid as he scrambles to keep up.

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin says calmly, but he sounds anything but apologetic. “It was a little excited that you decided to come early this week, I think.” 

“How can I be early if I’ve only been here once?” Jungkook asks, bringing up his other hand to clutch around the jar, trying to muffle the vibrations to a dull hum.

“Yes, I guess you’re right,” Seokjin says a little dreamily, glancing over his shoulder to survey Jungkook once more. “And yet, here you are,” he says, “early.”

Before Jungkook can even formulate a response they’ve made it to the front entrance of the building.

“What?” Jungkook asks, confused. “I thought we were walking further back into the store.”

“Maybe,” Seokjin shrugs, nonplussed. “It’s easy to get turned around in here.”

They blink at each other for a moment before Seokjin continues.

“You might want to head out soon, I don’t want you to miss the train.”

“Right,” Jungkook sighs, “but I haven’t paid yet,” he says, digging into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Seokjin replies.

“No, I can pay for it!” Jungkook starts almost defensively, bunching his shoulders up toward his neck.

“I’m sure you can,” Seokjin shrugs, “but I don’t see why you should.”

Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows together, opening his mouth to argue again before Seokjin holds his hand up again in a placating manner.

“I don’t mean to offend you,” he says, “it’s just that your money is of no use to me, it’s the shop that wants you to keep coming back so I don’t see why you should have to pay for that.”

“The shop wants me to keep coming back?” Jungkook asks a little warily before gathering up all of his courage. “Are you sure it’s not you that wants me to keep coming back?”

“Well, that’s a given,” Seokjin says offhandedly, not a trace of embarrassment on his face.

“Oh,” Jungkook whispers, holding the jar tighter to his sternum, trying to match the rhythm of his heartbeats to the thrumming of the jar.

Seokjin steps around him to open the door, leaning his hip against the side as he motions for Jungkook to head out, but it seems that the sky had finally given into the gray clouds while Jungkook was inside. He gets lost a little looking at the raindrops as they soak into the earth outside, smacking loudly against the front steps. 

“It’s pretty magical, isn’t it?” Seokjin sighs when he notices Jungkook’s gaze locked on a puddle at the foot of the steps, the front porch light reflecting in shimmering lines across its surface.

“Magic doesn’t exist,” Jungkook says on instinct, body tensing as he tears his gaze away from the rain.

“Doesn’t it?” Seokjin says, cocking his head to the side as he leans forward a little into Jungkook’s space. Jungkook has to resist the urge to take a step back, resist the urge to run out of the shop altogether.

“No,” he breathes out, unsteady on his feet. “It doesn’t.”

“I think it does,” Seokjin hums to himself. “I think there’s maybe a little bit of magic everywhere, if you look hard enough.”

Jungkook swallows thickly, tongue like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth as he plays with the ends of his sleeves nervously. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, tersely avoiding his gaze before Seokjin breaks the palpable silence around them.

“You’re safe here, Jungkook-ah,” he whispers, so quiet that he can hardly hear it over the pattering of the rain outside, so quiet it could just be a whisper of a creaky floorboard.

Jungkook shakes his head, clenching his eyes shut as he shifts the jar from hand to hand and scuffs the toe of his boots along the floor.

“Will you be back at your normal time this weekend?” he asks.

Jungkook huffs again at the idea that he has a “normal” time but decides to let it go once more, too grateful for the change in subject to put up too much of a fuss. Some small part of him hopes that it’s just a weird form of flirting, that Seokjin might feel that same pull that Jungkook feels toward him.

“I’ll be back on Friday, if I can,” Jungkook nods. “The train can be a little unreliable sometimes,” he shrugs.

“Yes, the train is very particular about its passengers,” Seokjin nods gravely. “But you don’t have to worry about that,” he says dismissively, “she seems to like you a great deal.” Seokjin tilts his head to the side in thought. “It’s not hard to understand why.”

Jungkook opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure of how to respond before Seokjin seems to take pity on him.

“Well, if you do happen to make it by again, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he says. “He knows much more about that jar than I do, I think he could be of great use to you.”

“Oh,” Jungkook swallows, nervously. “Okay, I look forward to it,” he replies, but the words sound a little strained to his own ears. He doesn’t know how he feels about his alone time with Seokjin being taken up by someone else.

“Well, thank you for stopping by once again,” he smiles. “I’ll see you in two days!”

“See you,” Jungkook says a little weakly, whirling around to hide the flush of his face and stepping out into the forest once more.

It’s not until he’s safely back on the train, sinking low into his usual seat that he realizes he didn’t even ask what the jar was or what was in it. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he gazes down at it, mentally berating himself. How could he be that hung up on a guy that he would just take a random jar and not even ask what was inside? 

Jungkook shakes off the feeling and tells himself it doesn’t matter, he didn’t pay for it so no harm no foul, but for some reason, away from the warmth of the shop, the jar starts to feel a little unnerving, out of place in some way. Jungkook swipes his thumb along the lid, but can’t bring himself to open it.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before shoving it deep into the bottom of his backpack. He’ll deal with it another day.

Jungkook successfully makes it through the last two days of his work week, but he finds himself continually making dumb mistakes that he wouldn’t normally. 

His thoughts are elsewhere, locked in that warm shop just beyond the sunflower field, caught on the kind gaze of the shopkeeper and all the peculiar trinkets he surrounds himself with.

He bounces on the balls of his feet as he waits for the train to arrive, shivering when a breeze catches him off guard and his fingers immediately go toward the ring on his finger.

He’s developed a new habit of spinning it around and around whenever he feels cold. Whenever he feels lonely. Whenever he feels that tug on the rope around his stomach. 

But he can’t say he’s developed the same attachment to the over-excitable jar, still stuffed into the bottom of his backpack.

However, when he tucks himself in for the long train journey once more, he holds his backpack close to his stomach and feels that energy rush through him and he starts to understand it just a little bit more.

He heaves a deep sigh of relief when he finally steps over the threshold of the shop once more. It’s only been two days and Jungkook wonders how he’s gone his whole life without feeling this warmth, how he was able to cope.

He locks eyes with Seokjin behind the counter again but before he can open his mouth, a large crash sounds from the back of the store and Jungkook startles, knocking his hip painfully against the doorframe.

Seokjin doesn’t even flinch though, smile growing wider as he stares back at Jungkook.

“Don’t worry,” he assures, stepping out from behind the counter, and Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing him do that. “That’s just Taehyung.”

“Taehyung?” Jungkook asks, nervously, moving to follow Seokjin even though he hasn’t been invited to follow yet.

“Yes,” Seokjin says, simply. “You brought the jar with you didn’t you?” he asks, gaze sliding down to Jungkook’s backpack, clutched tightly to Jungkook’s chest.

“Yes, I brought it,” Jungkook nods, loosening his grip a little on his bag. “Is Taehyung the one you were telling me about last week?” Jungkook prods a little more.

“Yes, my employee,” Seokjin replies, weaving expertly through the shelves in the direction of the noise.

“I heard that!” a deep voice calls out from the back of the store.

“You were supposed to!” Seokjin yells back, chuckling as he throws a wink over his shoulder at Jungkook.

“We’ve been best friends for years,” the deep voice grumbles back as they finally get closer.

“You’re right, that was insensitive of me” Seokjin hums, stopping in front of a shelf, more plain looking than the rest of them in Jungkook’s opinion. “Jungkook-ah, this is my acquaintance, Taehyung.”

He sees a tuft of blue hair poke up from around the shelf and then a pair of eyes, narrowing at Seokjin’s words.

“I don’t know why I even bother,” Taehyung mutters, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in exasperation, but he throws a sly smile to Jungkook anyway to show that he’s joking. “It’s nice to see you again,” he says and Jungkook waves a little too excitedly in response. He finds that he’s not too upset anymore about his time with Seokjin being invaded.

“Hello,” he whispers, voice cracking halfway through the word. His ears tingle and he moves to cup them, feeling the heat emanating from his skin, nervous about meeting another stranger. 

Another beautiful stranger , he mind supplies, before Taehyung’s words catch up with him.

“Again?” Jungkook asks. “Have we met before?”

Taehyung blinks back at him innocently.

“Right, of course not,” he says, and Jungkook convinces himself that he imagines the way his smile fades just a bit. “Are you a friend of Jin’s, then?” he asks conversationally, still just a head poking out from behind the shelf.

“Oh,” Jungkook replies, caught off guard, “Jin?” he swivels his head over to Seokjin, a plea for help.

“Just a nickname my friends call me,” he shrugs, but doesn’t answer Taehyung for him as Jungkook had hoped. Are they friends? 

After too many beats of silence, Seokjin seems to have mercy on Jungkook and steps in.

“He’s a repeat customer,” he tells Taehyung, eyebrows raising conspiratorially. “It’s his third time here,” he says, words more pointed than usual and Jungkook can’t quite place his tone until he sees Taehyung’s mouth pop open in shock. Jungkook flushes, glancing back and forth between them, feeling like he’s missing a huge piece of the puzzle. 

“Your third time?” Taehyung asks, turning to Jungkook as if waiting for confirmation.

“Um, yes,” he stutters out. “I stumbled upon this place just last weekend,” he says. “It’s nice,” he supplies when the silence drags on for too long.

“No shit?” Taehyung says, eyebrows raising as Jungkook shrugs his shoulders a little helplessly.

He brings the tip of his pointer finger over to the ring that still sits just under his knuckle. He twists it in circles, counting the rotations as he waits for the conversation to continue. Jungkook’s not exactly a fan of loneliness, but he’s gotten used to it, and he might be a little overwhelmed at all of the social interaction he’s willfully subjecting himself to these days.

“How did you manage that?” Taehyung asks finally, the question is directed at Seokjin but Taehyung’s eyes stay glued to Jungkook, scanning him up and down as if there’s some sort of secret to him that he’s trying to unfold.

“I’ve learned over the years not to ask too many questions about good things,” Seokjin replies.

“Well,” Taehyung hums, shrugging his shoulders. “You must be someone special then.

“I’m not special,” Jungkook chokes, almost dropping the backpack still pressed to his chest. “I’m just nobody,” he huffs out a laugh, eyes once again finding solace in the cracks between the floorboards.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Taehyung says a little cheekily. “Jin likes you, the shop likes you, the forest likes you,” he snorts, “hell, even the train likes you, and she’s a tough one to get a handle on.”

“Like might be a strong word,” Jungkook mutters a little meekly, glancing up at Seokjin for help.

“I don’t think so,” Seokjin says, softly.

“Well,” Taehyung claps his hands together, “since you’re here I’ll let you see some of my work.” Jungkook finally relaxes, shoulders sagging in relief at the change of subject as Taehyung waves a hand motioning for them to follow him around the shelf.

Jungkook blinks in shock, bringing a hand up on instinct to shield his eyes from the bright light emanating from the shelf in front of him. Both Seokjin and Taehyung seem used to it though, huddling closer to the source of the light.

“What…” Jungkook clears his throat, side stepping to get a better look. “What is that?”

“It’s a star,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly, plunging his hand into the core of the light. Jungkook barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, biting it back at the look that Seokjin throws him.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I think I might have misunderstood you.”

“Probably not,” Taehyung replies, grabbing a jar that looks very similar to the one pulsing in Jungkook’s backpack, before pushing his other hand into the shelf as well. “It’s very hard to contain, you see.” His arms are completely obscured by light, washed out so completely that Jungkook can’t even make out a shadow.

“A star?” Jungkook asks skeptically as he stares at where Taehyung’s hands have disappeared. “And what are you,” Jungkook clears his throat again, stepping behind Seokjin’s back almost childishly and fighting the urge to grab onto the back of his shirt for protection. “And what are you doing with the star?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“I’m gathering stardust,” Taehyung replies, pulling the jar back from the depths, now filled halfway with what looks like gray soot. “It’s a huge seller here for some reason,” Taehyung shrugs. “People who don't know what they’re looking for will always find the answer to their questions in the cosmos, it seems.”

Jungkook nods a little dumbly as he stares at the jar in Taehyung’s hand. Taehyung pulls back the curtain in front of the shelf, effectively shutting out all of the light. Jungkook blinks the white spots from his vision as he tries to get used to the orange glow of the shop once more. 

Taehyung stands up and holds the jar out to him proudly.

“Stardust!” he exclaims, shaking the jar in front of Jungkook’s face.

“Thanks for that, Taehyung,” Seokjin replies in his stead, grabbing the jar out of Taehyung’s hands. “I’ll put this behind the counter for the next lost customer.”

“Does it help them find their way?” Jungkook asks gently, eyes following Seokjin as he disappears back toward the front of the store.

“Sometimes,” Taehyung says, patting him gently on the shoulder before steering him toward the sound of Seokjin’s footsteps. “The stardust itself doesn’t really do all that much, really it’s just the suggestion of being found that carries a lot of the weight,” he says, sucking his cheeks between his teeth. “People tend to think that the universe knows better than they do, and stardust is part of the universe.” 

Taehyung leans in a little conspiratorially, breath puffing at the ends of Jungkook’s hair and tickling his ear. “But what they fail to realize is that they are also a part of the universe,” he whispers, leaning back and giving a wink.

“So the stardust doesn’t do anything?” Jungkook asks a little helplessly, huffing to keep up with Taehyung as he weaves in and out of shelves toward the front counter.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Taehyung says. “Otherwise why would I spend the time harvesting it?” Taehyung ducks under a stray vine from an overhead plant, holding the greenery aside until Jungkook successfully passes through. “It gives a lot of our customers confidence,” Taehyung shrugs. “The stardust bears the heavy everyday burden of being alive and makes it so they aren’t alone with their decisions.” 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks.

“Well,” Taehyung sighs, “if they make a decision and it goes terribly, they can blame it on this weird little shop that they’ll never find again and the useless jar of stardust that brought them nothing but bad luck.” Taehyung turns around abruptly and Jungkook has to rear backwards in order to not run into his chest. “But if it goes well? Then they have a new good luck charm,” Taehyung explains. “Nothing can harm them and their decisions are valid as long as they’re holding onto that little batch of stardust.”

“So you’re basically providing a scapegoat,” Jungkook says.

“Suggestion can be a powerful thing,” Taehyung mumbles, turning around and walking the rest of the length back to the front of the store.

When Jungkook finally catches up, Seokjin is up on a ladder behind the counter, pushing the jar of stardust onto the top shelf while Taehyung keeps a steadying hand on his lower back. Jungkook eyes the pair for a moment, swallowing down a lump of jealousy, and he can’t even seem to decipher who he’s jealous of more.

“So,” Jungkook starts, averting his eyes away from them as Seokjin hops off of the last rung of the ladder and onto the floor. “Is that what you gave me last time, then?” he gestures to his vibrating backpack. “Is it stardust?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Seokjin says. “Not quite, at least.”

“Stardust isn’t that insistent, unfortunately,” Taehyung laughs rounding the counter to stand in front of Jungkook. “May I take a look?” he asks, holding a hand out toward him and Jungkook scrambles to yank his own jar from the depths of his backpack.

“Ah, I see,” Taehyung says, sucking his lips between his teeth and rolling them around. “You gave him this?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at Seokjin.

“Well, ‘gave’ is a strong word,” Seokjin shrugs. “The shelves were insistent upon it.”

“They were?” Taehyung asks, surprise evident in his voice. “Well, that really is something, then.”

“Sorry, what is it?” Jungkook asks, tentatively.

“It’s certainly stardust adjacent,” Taehyung says, “but it’s much more… aggressive isn’t quite the word.” He huffs, turning the jar over in his hands one more time before handing it back to Jungkook, who takes it back a little hesitantly. “It’s more tenacious, let’s say.”

“So… it’s tenacious stardust?” Jungkook asks. Taehyung barks out a laugh and Jungkook colors, simultaneously shrinking away from and reveling in the sound.

“Sorry, sorry, I need to stop being so cryptic,” he says, waving a hand in front of his face. “It’s dust from the moon.”

“The… moon?” Jungkook asks, disbelief evident in his voice. “Our moon?” he says, rounding on Seokjin. “You gave me a jar of moon dust?”

“Well, the shelves did,” Seokjin amends, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder to point to the back of the store. “They thought you could use it.”

“Use it for what?” Jungkook asks, looking helplessly between Taehyung and Seokjin. “The suggestion of confidence again? Like you were saying for the star?”

“It’s a little stronger than suggestion, I think,” Taehyung hums, eyes tracing the outline of Jungkook’s fingers as they clutch at the jar now buzzing louder in his hands. “I’m afraid it’s not really my place to tell you,” Taehyung says, shaking his head.

“Oh,” Seokjin blinks, glancing at him. “Sorry, Jungkook-ah, I thought maybe Taehyung would be able to help you.” 

Jungkook fights down a blush at the sign of familiarity from Seokjin. Despite his professional demeanor, Jungkook has caught him slipping a few times and can’t quite seem to parse out what that means.

“The shop doesn’t want me to say,” Taehyung whispers, tilting his head to the side as he continues to survey Jungkook. “I’m sorry, I think you have to figure this one out on your own.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to ask more but finds himself unable to form any coherent questions. He shakes his head and snaps his mouth shut once more when he hears a distant train whistle break through the quiet of the shop.

“I guess I should be going,” Jungkook says, wanting everything but to leave but not really having a reason for staying any longer.

“Why?” Taehyung asks, blinking back at him slowly. “You haven’t found what you came in here for yet,” he says. “Have you?”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, shaking the jar of moon dust in front of him as a way of explanation.

“But you got that last time didn’t you?” Taehyung asks, glancing at Seokjin for help.

“I did,” Jungkook responds, a little warily. “I’m sorry, is it okay that I came here without getting anything?” he suddenly feels a little foolish, like maybe he’d completely misread their kindness.

“Do you want to?” Seokjin asks.

“Do I want to… what?”

“Do you want to come here without getting anything?” Seokjin amends, bending forward to lean his elbows against the countertop, gazing at Jungkook as if he’s a new puzzle he has to solve. “You know, people don’t usually come back here more than once,” he confides. “They find what they need and then they never return,” he hums, trailing his fingers along the counter in front of him. “But you keep coming back,” he ponders. “Why is that?”

“It’s nice here,” Jungkook whispers, eyes flitting back and forth between Taehyung and Seokjin. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep coming back. I don’t need anything, really,” he says, “I just like it here,” he clears his throat before barreling on, “with you, of course. I like it here with you.”

“Of course,” Seokjin says, a little dreamily. He straightens himself behind the counter before sliding over to stand next to Taehyung, both now gazing back at Jungkook appreciatively. 

“Well, you’re welcome here anytime then,” Taehyung says, a small smile playing on his lips. “Whether you need something or not.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook chokes out. “Seokjin-ssi and Taehyung-ssi,” he says their names just to feel the syllables roll around on his tongue. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Jin.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, taking a step back toward the doorway as hears the train whistle sound louder, a little closer than before.

“Call me Jin,” Seokjin says. “All of my friends do.”

“Right,” Jungkook swallows, nodding his head. “See you around, Jin-ssi.”

Jungkook lays on his bed that night staring helplessly up at the ceiling, wishing more than anything that he was back in the warmth of the shop. He rubs at his stomach as he feels the rope cinching in once more. 

Now that he knows what it’s like to not feel that tightness, he finds the sensation to be almost unbearable.

He can’t get back to that shop quick enough.

Chapter Text

It feels different when Jungkook gets off at the train station this time.

The familiar tug in his stomach is more insistent somehow, stumbling with the force of it as he  makes his way through the field. He trails his fingertips along the petals of the sunflowers to distract himself, just barely brushing against them and counting down the rows in his head until he reaches the forest’s edge.

It’s empty.

This has happened before though. Jungkook takes a deep breath to try to calm his rapidly beating heart but the rope around his middle only tightens, constricting his lungs and making it harder to breathe. He sucks air in through his nose greedily as he closes his eyes, counting to ten before opening them again.

It’s not the shop that sits before him, but a house.
Jungkook blinks a few times to clear the blurriness from his vision as he stares back at the large house in front of him. He should probably feel scared, maybe a little wary, but he senses that same warmth from the shop and knows that he’s safe. 

The house is small and just as run over with ivy as the shop, but there’s a large greenhouse just next to it, even bigger than the house itself. Jungkook jumps when he sees movement in the garden between the house and the greenhouse. He takes a step forward and a twig snaps underneath his boots, making him flinch.

“Oh, hello,” the man in the garden says, straightening up and smiling wide. Jungkook’s stomach drops, constricting at the two dimples cratering his face. “What are you doing here?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, furrowing his brows. It’s a weird thing to say to a stranger sneaking up to you at your home, but he brushes it off. Everything is a little weird at this train stop anyways.

“I was looking for Seokjin actually,” Jungkook murmurs, taking a step closer to the pretty man.

“Ah, yes, Jin’s at the shop like he usually is around this time,” he says, rolling his lips between his teeth. 

Jungkook nods, ducking his head a little embarrassed. Jin , he thinks to himself, feeling a little more at ease. He must be a friend then.

“I think I might be a little lost,” he admits. “I was looking for the shop when I came through here,” he whispers, looking around at the surrounding trees. “I always seem to be at the mercy of the forest.”

“Ah,” the man hums, laying his basket down and running his fingers through his hair to swipe it off of his forehead. Jungkook licks his lips at the tips of his hair soaked in sweat, pointy and drenched, he blinks a few times to try to focus on what he’s saying. “The forest thinks it knows what’s best,” he says, “and I tend to agree with her.”

This isn’t the first time someone has referred to the forest as its own entity. Jungkook looks up at the branches above bowed around them like an archway. He watches the way they sway in and out at the will of the breeze and thinks that it sort of looks like breathing.

“Sorry for showing up here out of the blue though,” Jungkook says, distractedly, dropping his head back down to look at the man. “Or I guess, sorry that the forest thought I should come see you.”

“It’s no trouble, but unfortunately I don’t know that I can take you to Jin,” he says, eyebrows drawing together in a hint of remorse. “But you’re more than welcome to stay here with me if you want.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says, without an ounce of hesitation. He watches as the man’s face lights up and Jungkook’s stomach sparks with something that he can’t quite place. “What’s your name?” Jungkook asks, mouth a little loose just by staring back at him.

He watches as his face drops minutely before rearranging into something more proper.

“Namjoon,” he says, jaw clenching in something that was probably meant to be a smile. “I’m Namjoon.”

“Jungkook,” he responds, taking a step forward toward the garden and leaning his hip up against the gate.

“Yes,” Namjoon says, turning back toward the flowers. “Nice to meet you, Jungkook-ssi.”

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks in lieu of a response, clearing his throat as he steps up next to Namjoon, keeping a wide enough berth that they aren’t touching but just close enough that Jungkook swears he can feel the body heat radiating off of him, shivering at the added warmth.

“I’m just harvesting some of the wisteria around our home,” Namjoon says, eyes flitting over to Jungkook as if checking for his approval.

“Our?” Jungkook asks, rolling his neck to shake off the weight of Namjoon’s gaze. “How many of you live here?” he asks. “Jin and Taehyung?”

“Yes they both live here,” Namjoon nods, eyes pointedly focused on the task at hand. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says softly, “that must be nice.” He steps up even closer to Namjoon, resisting the urge to place his chin over his shoulder to get a better view. “Why does the wisteria need to be harvested?” he asks.

“She’s beautiful,” Namjoon says, “but she’s deadly.”

“Deadly?” Jungkook asks, taking a small step back and Namjoon chuckles.

“She has a penchant for strangling,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at Jungkook, mirth in his eyes.

“Strangling who?” Jungkook gulps a little, drawing his arms up to hug himself nervously in reflex.

“She can choke out large trees,” Namjoon clarifies. “She’s not really meant to be around here, the others always ask me to get rid of her but I think she’s gorgeous,” he says a little dreamily. “Just a little misunderstood,” he concludes. “Fighting for her place in the world.”

Jungkook watches as Namjoon clips off the purple vines.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I think I can relate.”

Namjoon glances over towards him with a small smile.

“Me too,” he agrees, a glint of something important in his eyes.

They stand there in silence for a while, Jungkook quietly watching Namjoon work, breathing in deeply and letting the comfort settle deep into his lungs until the rope completely loosens.

Once he can finally breathe again, Jungkook plops down on the ground, leaning back against the gate as he watches Namjoon work.

"Your garden is beautiful," he says, reaching his hand out to draw lines in the dirt, averting his eyes when Namjoon turns to smile at him.

“Thank you,” he says, ducking his head a little abashed, and Jungkook feels his own smile spread across his face in response. “It’s been a long time coming, but now that I finally have my own garden I can treat it the right way.” He turns back to the wisteria. “The way it deserves.”

Jungkook clenches his fingers into the ground beneath him, feeling the soil give way and gathers a large handful until it spills out through the cracks of his fingers.

“They’re lucky to have you,” Jungkook whispers, nodding his head as his eyes trail over the planes of Namjoon’s back.

Namjoon pauses, straightening a little to blink over his shoulder at Jungkook.

“I think it’s me that’s lucky,” he replies, gathering up the basket close to his chest as he turns around fully to address Jungkook.

“Would you like to come inside?” Namjoon asks, a basket full of wisteria as he turns toward the front door.
“Yes, please,” he replies instantly, nodding eagerly. He thinks there should be some trepidation in following a stranger into his house in the woods, but there’s something about the way the rope around his stomach tugs him up the stairs after him, something about the warmth emanating from the house that lets him know that these are Jin’s people too, let’s him know that he’s safe.

“More wisteria, Joon-ah?”

Jungkook’s breath catches when he hears the new voice filter in from a side room and he stumbles a little, toe catching on the floorboards before Namjoon places a grounding hand on the small of his back.

“It’s just Hoseok,” he whispers, eyes twinkling in reassurance as he guides him toward the sound of the voice.

“You know the wisteria doesn’t really help much with any of my potions, right?” Hoseok calls out, but his face is pulled into the brightest smile Jungkook has ever seen, not a hint of disappointment in his features.

“Shh,” Namjoon hushes, cradling the basket closer to his chest. “Not so loud, you’ll hurt her feelings.”

Jungkook bites back a laugh at that, but Namjoon’s face is serious as he walks around the dark wooden table in the center of the room, placing the basket down gently in front of him. Jungkook follows after him, ducking under several other wisteria vines hanging from the ceiling. He reaches a hand out in awe at how vibrant they are. He assumed that they’d be dried out after being harvested from outside, but their lavender petals are soft to the touch as if they’ve just been watered.

But that’s impossible, Jungkook thinks to himself, looking upward to where the vines taper off, cut off at the ends and bundled around the ceiling rafters. Jungkook trails a finger over the petals so delicately, afraid that they’ll snap off if he touches too hard.

“Oh,” he hears Namjoon whisper, and Jungkook pauses a little, apologies piling up on the tip of his tongue until he sees the look of wonder painted across Namjoon’s face. “They really like you.”

Jungkook colors, letting his hand drop limply at his side, swallowing a few times as he stares back at Namjoon.

“The wisteria is going to take over the house one day, Joon-ah,” Hoseok laughs loudly, breaking them out of their trance. “We’ll be booted out of our own home,” he smiles, turning off the burner of the stove top. “I’d rather you let them strangle out the trees than strangle us out of house and home.”

“She won’t strangle us,” Namjoon insists, finally turning away from Jungkook. “She just doesn’t know her own strength,” he whispers. “She loves a little too hard.”

Jungkook watches as Hoseok’s features soften at the words, eyes scanning over Namjoon’s face so tenderly that Jungkook fights the urge to step out of the room. Something about the moment feels too intimate, like he’s interfering.

He takes a step back but before he can get any further, Hoseok’s eyes flit over to him instead.

“Jungkook-ah,” he smiles, grabbing the pot from behind his back and moving it to a trivet on the table between them. “Since when do you come to the house?”

“What?” Jungkook asks, stunned, looking a little helplessly at Namjoon.

“Jungkook-ssi, this is Hoseok,” Namjoon says a little pointedly, eyes flitting over to Hoseok with an expression that Jungkook can’t quite place. “He lives here with us,” he clarifies.

“You mean with Jin and Taehyung?” Jungkook asks. “Have they talked about me? Is that why…”

“Yes, of course,” Hoseok says quickly, but his smile is tighter than before and Jungkook shifts uneasily on his feet. “You’re Jin’s favorite customer after all.”

Jungkook flushes, ducking his head down to stare at his shoes, dragging them along the cracks between the floorboards.

“Are you looking for Jin?” Hoseok asks after the silence has gone on for too long.

“Oh,” Jungkook whispers. “I guess I was originally,” he shrugs. “I just sort of ended up here.”

“Was he not at the shop?” Hoseok asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

“I never quite made it there,” Jungkook sighs, a little embarrassed. “I think I got a little lost,” he admits. “I’m sorry for intruding.”

“Not intruding,” Hoseok says, pulling a chair out for Jungkook. “You’re never intruding, you’re more than welcome here whenever you want.”

Jungkook takes a seat, tucking his hands nervously underneath his legs and swinging his feet a little underneath the chair.

“Is it just you four who live here?” Jungkook asks, watching as Hoseok brings a giant ladle over from one of the kitchen drawers.

“There’s six of us actually,” Namjoon answers instead, taking a piece of twine to bundle together his wisteria from the garden. “Yoongi and Jimin,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll meet them soon,” he glances over, “if you want to of course.”

“Oh,” Jungkook whispers. “I’d like that, I think.” He tries to think back to the outside of the house, furrowing his brows together, but it didn’t look big enough to hold six rooms. He feels his neck start to warm up at the implications, that maybe they share rooms. His stomach swoops with something akin to jealousy, but Jungkook swallows a little looking back and forth between the two men in front of him. No, it’s something like longing, Jungkook corrects in his head.

“Why is the wisteria not helpful?” Jungkook asks, curiosity winning over. Hoseok glances up, pausing his stirring of the pot in front of him.

“It’s not great for my elixirs,” he says simply.

“Elixirs?” Jungkook asks and Hoseok nods.

“I make healing potions, and wisteria unfortunately is not really helpful in that arena,” he says and Jungkook wrinkles his nose together at the use of the word potion. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“It’s not her fault that people have started to use her for the wrong things,” Namjoon pipes up, still protectively cradling his basket.

“I know that, Joon-ah,” Hoseok says fondly.

“What kind of healing?” Jungkook asks. “You mean like medicines?”

“Something like that,” Hoseok nods a little vaguely. “Wisteria is more commonly used in things that would do harm.”

“Do harm?” Jungkook asks, glancing up at the purple bundles hanging overhead. “You mean poison?”

“Most of the time, yes,” Hoseok agrees.

“They won’t hurt you,” Namjoon says gently. 

Hoseok ladles some of the liquid from the pot into a jar that looks very similar to the ones in Jin’s shop. The liquid from Hoseok’s ladle falls into the bottle like waves of silver fabric, moving so unnaturally that Jungkook has to rub at his eyes to make sure he’s seeing it correctly.

Jungkook watches quietly for a few more minutes until all the bottles are filled up and corked. He could ask what they are, whether they’ll be going to Jin’s shop, why the liquid seems to defy gravity the way that it does, but all Jungkook can seem to muster up is –

“It’s breathtaking.”

And it’s worth it for the dazzling smile that Hoseok turns toward him. The sight has something tickling at the back of Jungkook’s brain and he shivers a little, averting his gaze.

“It’s for Jin’s shop, right?” Jungkook asks, clearing his throat.

“You remember?” Hoseok asks.

“Remember?” Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “I just sort of assumed since the bottles at the shop are the same,” Jungkook shrugs, “at least the one that I have with the moon dust looks like those.”

“Right, of course,” Hoseok nods, turning away to stack the bottles into a large box, before turning back around a little too quickly. “Moon dust? You have moon dust?”

“Well,” Jungkook squirms. “I haven’t exactly confirmed its contents but that's what they told me.” He ducks his head a little. 

“Tae gave it to you?” Hoseok asks.

“No, Jin did,” Jungkook shakes his head, “or, I guess he said the shelves gave it to me, but I think he was just being funny.”

“The shelves gave it to you?” Namjoon asks, straightening up a little and Jungkook shrinks in response.

“I don’t know, that’s just what they said,” he whispers. “I didn’t steal it I promise.”

“Of course not,” Hoseok soothes, “it’s just interesting that’s all, I thought they might have mentioned that in passing at some point.”

“Interesting is one way to describe it,” Namjoon says, blowing out a long breath, shoulders sagging as he deflates his lungs.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispers, just to fill the silence.

“What are you sorry for?” Hoseok asks, eyebrows crinkling together on his forehead.

“I don’t know, you just seemed upset,” Jungkook shrugs a little helplessly.

“We’re not upset,” Namjoon says. “Just surprised.”

“And don’t apologize for something if you have nothing to be sorry for,” Hoseok says.

“Right,” Jungkook says, swallowing so hard he’s sure the others can hear the way his throat contracts painfully. Hoseok grabs a sheet of labels from the counter behind him and Jungkook leans to the side to get a better look.

“Sleeping draught?” he asks and Hoseok glances up at him.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s so shimmery.”

Jungkook doesn’t really get the correlation but finds himself nodding in agreement anyway.

“I thought you said it was for healing?” Jungkook asks, not able to hold back any of the questions piling up in his head.

“It is,” Hoseok says, simply. “Is there anything more healing than a good night’s sleep?”

“I suppose not,” Jungkook replies. He rocks back and forth in his chair trying to organize his thoughts and come up with the next question, but in the end it’s Hoseok that shatters the silence.

“Do you mind doing me a favor?” Hoseok asks, turning around to tilt his head at Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook asks, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “Yeah, anything,” he says, words coming out a little breathy as he waits for instruction and he’s rewarded with another bright smile for his efforts.

“Do you mind taking this box over to the shop?”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, rolling his lips between his teeth as he makes a move to stand.

“You don’t have to,” Namjoon says quickly, reaching a hand out into the empty space between them. “You just might be able to catch Jin before you have to catch the train.”

“No, I don’t mind going,” Jungkook clarifies. “I’m just not sure that I’ll be able to make it there.”

“It’s not that far of a walk,” Hoseok says, closing the flaps of the box and sliding it over the table in front of Jungkook.

“I wouldn’t know,” Jungkook replies quietly, but he picks up the box anyway, balancing it on his hip. “Like I said, I seem to get turned around a lot whenever I come here.”

“Don’t worry,” Hoseok waves him off, ushering him over to the front door. “The forest will make sure you get there safely.”

Jungkook keeps his mouth shut from saying that the forest didn’t really help him get to the shop earlier today when he ended up at their home instead, but he decides better of it.

“Okay, well it was nice meeting you, Hoseok-ssi,” he says, hoping that it’s too dark for him to see the blush rising to the high points of his cheekbones. “And you too, Namjoon-ssi,” he calls into the kitchen. “Thank you for showing me your wisteria.”

“Remember,” Namjoon says, appearing in the doorway just before Jungkook turns to leave, “you’re welcome here anytime.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, swallowing thickly. “See you around, then.”

“See you,” Hoseok nods.

Jungkook immediately shivers when the door to the house closes behind him, mourning the loss of their warmth as soon as it’s gone. He heaves a deep sigh before walking forward, not really knowing where he’s going, just following the natural path between the trees.

There’s something a little unnerving about the way light filters in through the leaves overhead, laying out shadows in odd shapes on the path in front of him. He shuffles forward, almost as if he could smudge out the darkness with the toe of his boots. 

He’s not sure he believes in everything the others have said to him, but there’s something comforting about the thought that the forest likes him. That it’s guiding him to where he needs to go.

“They were nice,” Jungkook whispers to the forest, just to hear the words outside of his own head. “All of them have been so nice to me.”

He balls his hands into fists, nails scraping against the box as he shrugs his shoulders up self-consciously toward his ears.

“I don’t think I’m used to that feeling,” he whispers. “Of someone being nice.”

The forest doesn’t respond except for the whistle of the wind as it bounces off the branches overhead, the leaves brushing together from the force of it, and Jungkook strains his ears to try to make out any sort of words.

He huffs out a breath, feeling ridiculous, as he continues to trudge forward, and sure enough it’s no longer than a few minutes before Jungkook starts to feel that familiar warmth again. The feeling he’s been starved for since he left the house.

He jogs up the steps of the shop, careful not to shake the box too harshly as he tugs the door open, desperate for that sense of comfort once more.

The shop smells different today, spicier almost, like tea leaves or herbs. There’s something sweet too, cutting through, like honeysuckle. Jungkook inhales greedily, almost lightheaded when he finally blinks his eyes open to survey the shop, jolting when he realizes it’s not Jin behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” the man asks, voice so kind and light that Jungkook feels he could float away just by hearing it.

He makes an aborted sound in his throat, whirling around to stare at the door behind him, and then back to look at the shop. It’s definitely the same shop, he’s sure of it, but something feels different today. Something odd and yet familiar all at once.

“Is Jin here?” Jungkook asks, sucking in deep breath to try to keep his voice steady. 

The man’s eyes flick up to him, widening a little in something like surprise.

“You’re looking for Jin?” he asks and Jungkook nods, taking a tiny step forward, holding the box out just slightly as if offering an explanation.

“Hoseok sent me here,” he says, “wanted me to bring these jars of.. sleep?” Jungkook cuts himself off, huffing a little. “Well, I guess I don’t really know what they are,” he says, shoulders sagging as the man’s mouth quirks up a little at the corner.

“You know Hoseok already?” he asks and Jungkook nods, finally taking the last step toward the strange man to place the box on the counter between them.

“I just met him,” Jungkook says, a little thrown off by the phrasing, “and Namjoon?” he says almost like a question, as if just saying the two names would be enough explanation for his presence here.

“Ah, I see,” he says, straightening up behind the counter, expression smoothing over into something indecipherable. “You’re Jungkook,” he says, it’s not a question but Jungkook nods anyway. His tone is not as warm as it once was, but it’s not altogether unwelcoming either.

“Are you one of the others that live with them?” Jungkook blurts out, fingers tracing hesitantly along the edges of the box, the movement just slightly clinking the jars together.

“Jimin,” he says, a sweet smile spreading across his face. “Jin should be around here somewhere,” he says, waving his hand around behind him. “But I’m afraid it might take too long for you to find him.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, trying to muffle the air of disappointment around him.

“I can take this from you, though,” Jimin says, reaching out as if in a daze. “Nice ring,” he says offhandedly, fingertips just slightly brushing over the tops of Jungkook’s knuckles, dragging along the ring on his finger.

Jungkook feels his face heat up, pulling his hands back abruptly.

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. “I got this on my first visit here.”

Jimin nods as he drags the box toward himself and brings it down on the floor behind the counter.

“I think Jin mentioned it,” Jimin says, but his eyes are still a bit glazed over, lost in thought.

“Well, I’ll get out of your way,” Jungkook says, taking a small step back and watching as Jimin’s eyes seem to clear at the prompt.

“You don’t have to leave,” he rushes to say. “You’re more than welcome to look around while you’re here.” He gestures his hand in a large swooping motion around the store. “I’m sure you’ll find something that appeals to you.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, bringing his arms stiffly back down to his sides.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

Jungkook gets the feeling that the conversation is over so he holds his sigh in his chest. He sort of wants to just turn around immediately and come back another day. He wants to ask when Jin will be back, but he feels like it would be too rude. Jungkook tells himself he’ll just walk through the shelves and then once five minutes have passed it will be an acceptable amount of time for him to finally leave the shop without buying anything.

He wanders over to a shelf on the wall to his left, one that he must have seen before on his countless trips here, but for some reason feels new, odd. It’s somewhat mundane, books and clocks stacked precariously one on top of the other, except for the globe on the far corner. It lights up blue every few seconds with what looks like lightning inside. Jungkook reaches a finger out to touch it, expecting the bolt to be attracted to the energy from his finger, but jumps and pulls back when he hears Jimin clear his throat behind him.

“It’s probably best not to touch that,” he says, a light laugh echoing off the shelves around them. Jungkook flushes, dropping his hand down to this side and drawing his sleeves over his fingers. He doesn’t turn to look at Jimin, but mumbles out an apology of sorts before venturing further into the store, away from his prying eyes.

Jungkook wanders, not really seeing anything on the shelves, before he decides that an acceptable amount of time has passed and starts making his way back over to the door.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Jimin asks, straightening up and sliding over to the cash register when he sees Jungkook approaching.

“Oh, I wasn’t really looking for anything,” Jungkook says, a little embarrassed, touching his finger to the bridge of his nose where his face has gone warm. “I was just perusing,” he whispers. Jimin gives him an odd look, fingers falling a little lifelessly against the keys of the register in front of him. “I should get going,” he says apologetically, clearing his throat as he makes his way to the front door.

“You’re sure?” Jimin asks, a little dejectedly and Jungkook feels bad, almost regretting not picking up just anything, but now the air just feels awkward and Jungkook sorely wants to go home and forget that this entire interaction occurred.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, shrugging before backing away toward the door. “Can you tell Jin I’ll be back later this week?” he rushes out before he loses his nerve.

“You’ll be back?” Jimin replies, slumping in confusion against the counter top.

“Yes,” Jungkook huffs out, inching backwards out of the shop door. “I think,” he shakes his head. “He said it was okay,” Jungkook shrugs a little helplessly.

“Of course it’s okay,” Jimin says quietly, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “I’ll let him know.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook nods, taking small steps backward until he makes contact with the front door. “Actually I have one question,” he says before he can stop himself.

“What is it?” Jimin asks, voice so tender and welcoming that Jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous anymore.

“The warmth,” he says, leaning back heavily against the door. “There’s something warm about this shop,” he says, “and the house.”

Jimin tilts his head a little innocently, gesturing one hand over to the fireplace.

“Too warm, you mean?” he asks. “We can try to regulate it a bit more, I suppose.”

“No, not like,” Jungkook huffs, knocking the heels of his boots against the molding next to the door, trying and failing to gather his thoughts together. “It feels safe,” he says, sagging back. “It’s nice.” Jimin’s eyes widen almost comically at that.

“Ah,” he says, a smile spreading across his face. “That would be Yoongi’s doing.”

“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks. “He’s the other one that lives with you guys, right?”

“Yes,” Jimin nods, leaning forward to cradle his chin in the palm of his hand, propped up on the counter in front of him. “He’s pretty protective of us,” he says, eyes twinkling and Jungkook feels that deep sense of longing return once again. “He makes sure we’re safe out here.”

“Oh,” Jungkook nods, hands scrambling behind him until his fingertips brush against the door handle. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” he says, “and if you see Yoongi, could you tell him I said thanks?”

“Thanks?” Jimin says, eyes still shining.

“For the warmth,” he clarifies. “Tell him I said thanks for the warmth.”

He wrenches the door open and falls out onto the front steps before Jimin can get out another word. He heaves a sigh of relief when he manages to latch the door shut behind him, a little embarrassed. He plays the interaction over and over again in his head, torturing himself until he huffs, frustrated, and sets off for the sunflower field.

It’s nearly sunset when Jungkook finally makes it to the train station that shouldn’t exist, falling in a heap on the lone bench there as he waits. After a few minutes, he starts to get a sinking feeling in his chest. He can usually hear the whistle echoing over the tops of the sunflowers as he makes his way through the field, but now it’s quiet. Even the wind doesn’t make a sound as it rustles through the treetops.

He hunches his shoulders up to cover his neck, wrapping his arms around his middle when he feels the rope tighten once more. 

He stares helplessly at the tracks in front of him, overgrown with moss and clover, until the sun dips so far below the horizon that Jungkook can’t even make out the shape of his own shoes on the brick beneath him.

The train never comes.

Chapter Text

Jungkook stays still, staring at the train tracks as they disappear into the night until his eyes start to adjust to the darkness, helped only slightly by the sliver of moon peering out over the treetops. His heart is rapidly beating in his chest while he strains his ears, hoping to hear the train’s whistle in the distance. Jungkook curls his fingers around the slats of the bench beneath him as if he could feel the vibrations of the wheels when it comes hurtling through, but the station remains quiet and still.

Jungkook shivers, trying to keep his breathing measured, wondering how long he should wait before trying to find the shop again. He looks over his shoulder at the forest behind him, and suddenly it doesn’t feel as inviting as it once did. The opening is so cavernous and foreboding that it makes the hairs on Jungkook’s arms stand on end. He rubs at the skin there, trying to calm himself, before he turns back to the train tracks and takes a deep breath, counting the seconds it takes to fill his lungs to their capacity before exhaling slowly through his nose. He presses a hand to his stomach and he realizes what feels wrong. There’s no tugging there, nothing pulling him toward the forest. He doesn’t feel wanted there.

“Jungkook-ah?”

He startles in his seat, elbow smacking painfully against the arm rest as he whips his head around to the voice. It’s a man he doesn’t recognize, but he finds himself relaxing minutely in his presence. The warmth of this person is familiar, even if his face is not, and Jungkook thinks he can guess his name.

“You know you shouldn’t be out here this late,” he scolds, reaching a hand out toward Jungkook’s shoulder before halting in the air between their bodies and dropping his arm dejectedly to his side.

Jungkook swallows, eyes trained on the other man’s hands as they twitch helplessly, as if his fingers are still reaching out toward Jungkook. He rolls his shoulders back to brush off the feeling of want. Of missing a touch he never had.

“You’re Yoongi, aren’t you?” Jungkook whispers quietly, getting up a little unsteadily from the bench and forcing his eyes up.

“Oh,” he replies, releasing a slow breath as his eyes blink back lazily at Jungkook. “Yes, I’m Yoongi.”

“Did the others tell you about me?” Jungkook asks, not even believing his own words as they leave his mouth, but offering Yoongi an explanation anyway.

“Of course,” he grunts, nodding his head and tucking his hands into his pockets. Jungkook immediately feels colder, like Yoongi has closed himself off and in doing so, stole some of the warmth. He immediately wants to take back his words, but it’s too late now and all he can do is barrel forward.

“I didn’t mean to be out here this late,” Jungkook says, clearing his throat as he motions toward the tracks, overgrown and empty behind him. “The train just never came.”

“What do you mean the train never came?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Were you late?”

“No,” Jungkook says, huffing when Yoongi looks back at him pointedly. “I really wasn’t!” Jungkook whines. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, I don’t know why it never showed up!”

“You should have come back to the house the minute it started getting dark,” Yoongi scolds, ushering Jungkook to follow him as he leaves the platform, venturing back into the sunflower field. Jungkook follows without hesitation, walking a little too closely behind him, wanting to feel as much warmth as he can while he has the chance.

“I thought about it,” Jungkook admits, but his eyes track up toward the forest’s edge that they’re slowly getting closer to. “Something felt off.”

“The forest?” Yoongi asks, glancing sideways at Jungkook as they continue forward. “She has been acting weird lately,” Yoongi hums, nodding a little in understanding as they get closer. “She would never hurt you though.”

Jungkook nods, barely comforted by the words.

“Why did you say I shouldn’t be out this late then?” Jungkook prods, subconsciously moving closer to Yoongi’s side.

“I didn’t say it to scare you,” Yoongi hesitates and Jungkook snorts, rolling his eyes a little.

“Too late.”

“Right,” Yoongi says, and Jungkook feels Yoongi’s pinky brush against the tendons on the back of Jungkook’s hand. He flexes his fingers out as if to reach back, wanting to slot their fingers together, but Yoongi pulls back before he can.

“The shadows have a mind of their own,” Yoongi eventually says. “And at night, they’re harder to spot.”

“The shadows?” Jungkook replies, uneasily, giving up all pretenses  and wrapping his fingers securely around Yoongi’s arm, just above his elbow.

Yoongi huffs a laugh, reaching up to pat his hand reassuringly.

“You’re okay, I promise,” Yoongi says. “I just get nervous about you being out here alone. I always feel better knowing you’re safe.”

“Me?” Jungkook asks, sidling up a little closer.

“Well, all of you, obviously,” Yoongi shrugs. “You just tend to get lost a lot easier than the others,” Yoongi teases, mouth pulling up into a smirk.

Jungkook can’t even bring himself to argue back, vaguely pleased at the gentle ribbing until he notices that they’ve finally reached the forest’s edge.

Yoongi moves to take a step through the leaves but Jungkook clings to him a little harder, tugging him back to his side. Yoongi looks up at him patiently, leaning more assuredly against Jungkook’s side.

“I’ve got you,” Yoongi whispers, but makes no move to step forward again until Jungkook gives the go ahead. They’re quiet for several long moments, Jungkook’s grip never loosening on Yoongi’s arm until he feels fingertips skating hesitantly over the back of his hand.

“I like your ring,” Yoongi whispers, dreamily, fingers catching against the metal on Jungkook’s finger. 

“I got it my first time here,” Jungkook says. “At the shop.”

“Your first time?” Yoongi asks, fingers still tracing along the edges of the band.

“A few weeks ago,” Jungkook agrees. 

“Right.” Yoongi clears his throat, looking away. “A few weeks ago.” Jungkook’s eyes trace over the outlines of Yoongi’s profile, willing him to turn back.

“It’s weird,” he says, eyes still glued to Yoongi’s face, “that first visit is sort of a blur in my mind. I didn’t even remember picking up the ring until I had it in my hand at the front counter.” Jungkook shakes his head as if trying to physically knock the memories into order. “It’s like I was in a trance or something.”

“That sounds scary,” Yoongi whispers, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“It wasn’t though,” Jungkook protests, leaning more heavily against Yoongi’s side. “It’s the nicest I’ve ever felt.” He runs his own thumb over the ring on his finger, where there should be cold metal, Jungkook only feels warmth.

“It fits you perfectly,” Yoongi says quietly, and Jungkook looks away, abashed until Yoongi’s touch brings him back.

“Jin said the same thing.”

“Of course he did,” Yoongi agrees, and then, so quietly that Jungkook has to strain to hear, “It looks pretty on you, Jungkook-ah.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook whispers back, at a loss for what else he can say. They stand in silence for a few beats more before Jungkook returns his attention to the mouth of the forest.

“So I have to be on the lookout for… shadows?” Jungkook asks, heaving a deep breath as his eyes scan over the trees in front of him, branches hanging low in jagged lines.

“I didn’t say it to scare you,” Yoongi says. “It’s just always wise to exercise caution, especially in such a vast place as this.” He shrugs, sniffing and looking off to the side. “The forest would protect you, anyways, of course, I just like to be sure.”

“The forest?” Jungkook asks. “Does she protect anyone who walks through?”

“No, of course not,” Yoongi says. “Just those that deserve protecting.” Jungkook scuffs his feet along the dirt, pleased and embarrassed.

“And I deserve protection?” he asks, staring into the pure darkness laid out in front of him.

“Yes,” Yoongi says simply.

Yoongi rolls his shoulders back as the silence holds for a beat too long, averting his eyes from Jungkook to stare back at the leaves, eerily still despite the sound of wind whistling through the branches. “It’s mostly for my peace of mind anyways,” Yoongi whispers. “It makes me feel better to have confirmation that you’re safe.”

“Oh,” Jungkook whispers, flexing his fingers as they continue to grip at Yoongi’s bicep.

“Are you ready?” Yoongi asks after several long minutes have passed.

“I guess so,” Jungkook says. “Promise we won’t get lost?”

“Me?” Yoongi snorts. “I’ve never gotten lost in these woods,” he glances sideways. “Unlike someone else I know.”

Jungkook huffs but doesn’t respond, opening his eyes widely trying to stay alert as they duck under the low-hanging branches.

Once they make it to the first clearing, Jungkook finally feels it, the rope tightening around his center, pulling him off in the direction that he’s sure is the house.

“See?” Yoongi whispers, quietly so as not to startle Jungkook. “Not so scary, is it?”

“How far until we get there?” Jungkook asks, tugging Yoongi along in the direction that the rope is pulling him. “It never seems to take the same amount of time.”

“Not far,” Yoongi assures, not commenting on how Jungkook suddenly knows the way to their home. 

There’s only a few more minutes before the house comes into view, that same glowing aura that Jungkook has become used to. They make it past the front gates, but just as they’re reaching the front steps, the door bursts open so suddenly that Jungkook flinches, reeling backwards and hiding slightly behind Yoongi’s frame.

“Where have you been?” Jin calls out, hurrying down the stairs toward them. “I almost sent Namjoon out on a search, don’t you dare ever worry me like that again.” Jin scolds, reaching toward Yoongi before his eyes seem to clear, taking in the two of them. “Jungkook-ah?”

“The reason I’m late,” Yoongi says, gesturing to Jungkook who is still clinging to his arm, huddled a little behind him. “I’m sorry I worried you,” he tilts his head, voice lowering in apology. “It was never my intention, I just wanted to make sure Jungkook was safe.”

“Safe?” Jin asks, whipping his head back toward Jungkook. “What happened, Jungkook-ah?” he babbles, ushering them inside. The minute Jungkook crosses the threshold, the rope falls slack around his waist, shoulders sagging in relief and he can’t understand why he was ever nervous in the first place. “What are you doing out so late?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Jungkook whines, tired of being blamed.

“The train never arrived,” Yoongi jumps in, patting Jungkook’s shoulder reassuringly. “I found him at the station and brought him here.”

“The train never arrived?” Jin asks, eyes scanning up and down Jungkook’s body as if searching for hurt that he can soothe. “But Jimin says he left the shop well before sunset.”

“I did,” Jungkook nods. “I sat at the station for hours but it never came.”

“Huh,” Jin says, leaning back against the closed front door, finally calming down. “Well, come on in then, the guys will be happy to see you.”

Jungkook blushes, pleased, as he follows behind him, ignoring Yoongi’s prying gaze. He hears the sound of the others’ voices getting louder when they pass through the kitchen into a room Jungkook has yet to see. He peers over Jin’s shoulder into what can only be considered a living room, packed with so many couches, cushions and pillows that Jungkook can barely see the floor. Hoseok and Jimin are packed tightly together on a large chair, limbs so intertwined that Jungkook can’t quite tell where one body ends and the other begins. Taehyung is on the couch opposite them, hanging upside down off of the edge so his hair dangles in Namjoon’s face, where he lays sprawled across the cushions on the floor. Jungkook immediately wants to wrap himself up in a blanket and tuck himself into the coziest corner, staying there for as long as they’ll allow him. 

He barely notices that the room has gone quiet until Jin’s voice breaks through the whirlwind of his own thoughts.

“Jungkook-ah’s train never got in,” he says. “He’ll be staying here until it rolls through again.” Jungkook looks over the others, varying expressions of surprise flitting across their faces. 

“I’ll be gone before you know it,” Jungkook promises when the silence goes on for too long.

“Nonsense,” Yoongi mutters, stepping around them to settle on the couch cushion next to Taehyung, jostling him slightly. “You can stay for as long as you need.”

“What hyung said,” Taehyung agrees, moving himself into an upright position to press the side of his body along Yoongi’s. “You’re always welcome here.”

Jungkook shuffles his feet against the floor, still somewhat hiding behind Jin in the doorway before he gets steered to the nearest chair. He tucks himself into the patchwork pillows there, burrowing in as far as he can.

“Are you okay, Jungkook-ah?” Jimin asks, making no move to depart from Hoseok, but sitting up slightly more than he was before.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook says a little warily, dragging a blanket over from the foot of the chair to cover himself. 

“I promise you’re safe here,” Namjoon says from the floor, fingers curling uncertainly around Taehyung’s ankles. 

“I know,” Jungkook replies, nodding his head, because he’s never felt more safe in his life. “I just don’t want to invade your space, is all.” He tucks his hands between his knees. “I promise I’ll be on the next train out.”

“If that’s what you want,” Namjoon shrugs, propping himself up against the base of the couch, shoulder brushing against Taehyung’s shins.

“Whose room is the cleanest?” Jin asks, moving to sit on the armrest of Jungkook’s chair. “We want Jungkook to have a nice sleep tonight, not be surrounded by dirty laundry.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, holding his hands up in front of him. “You don’t have to give up your room, I’m sure the train should be here soon, right? We should be able to hear it from here.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says, blinking back at him. “The train doesn’t run at night.” They all exchange looks between each other and Jungkook sinks further into the chair, trying to hide himself from view.

“I brought you here so you could spend the night, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says, gruffly. “We’ve got plenty of room.”

“I’ll bunk with Jimin,” Taehyung speaks up, arms stretching over his head as he sleepily blinks back at the others. “Jungkook-ah can take my room.” Taehyung’s eyes slide over to Jungkook, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a secret smile, one just for him. “It’s the best room in the house,” he winks. “They spoil me because I’m the youngest.” The others huff out a laugh but nobody moves to correct him, and Hoseok reaches over to ruffle Taehyung’s hair until he whines and swats him away.

“You don’t have to give me your room,” Jungkook protests. “I’m perfectly fine on the couch.”

“It’s not up for debate,” Jin says. “It’s late and we’ve all had a long day, so I say we pack it in for the night and we can discuss more in the morning.”

“What more is there to discuss?” Jungkook asks, taking Jin’s offered hand and getting to his feet unsteadily. “Do you think the train is coming back?”

He’s met with silence as he looks up at the others.

“I’m sure it’ll be right back on schedule once morning comes,” Namjoon says, breaking the silence of the room and nodding his head resolutely.

“Has it ever missed a stop before?” Jungkook presses, eyes flitting between the others.

“Once that I remember,” Jimin says, and it looks like he has more to add before Hoseok’s hand comes down to massage at the back of his neck. He closes his mouth for a moment before he shakes his head, letting out a light chuckle. “Of course, I don’t keep track of every train stop.”

“Right,” Jungkook nods, rolling his lips between his teeth. “Well, I guess I’ll be off to bed, then?” 

Jungkook climbs the stairs, mind racing over what he’s meant to do if the train doesn’t make it back. He’s been too afraid to ask where exactly he is, afraid to ask if there’s any other way out of this town, afraid to shatter the illusion of this little piece of warmth that he hadn’t realized he was searching for.

When Jungkook finally bats away the thoughts, he realizes he’s stopped in front of a door painted a deep forest green. Jungkook looks over his shoulder toward the top of the staircase to see the others blinking back at him.

“Looks like you found it alright,” Taehyung says, a hint of a joke hidden in his eyes that Jungkook can’t quite decipher. 

“This is your room?” Jungkook asks, pointing toward the door. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods, walking toward the room and Jungkook steps back a little numbly to give him space to open the door. “I guess you could tell green is my color,” he laughs, running a hand jokingly through the top of his hair. Jungkook’s laugh catches in his throat as he looks back toward the others, still hovering near the top of the staircase. They’re staring back as if they’re trying to make sense of him, trying to piece something together but Jungkook can’t figure out what. He wraps his arms around himself as he follows Taehyung into his room.

The more he stays here, the more he feels like he’s missing something important.

“I’ll just put new sheets on the bed and you’ll be good to go,” Taehyung says, pulling the comforter back and stripping the bed. Jungkook stands awkwardly in the doorway watching, hands wringing together anxiously in front of him. “I can lend you some pajamas as well,” he says. “Is there anything else?” he wonders out loud as he hooks a new pair of sheets around the edges of his mattress. “A toothbrush? I could definitely find a spare.”

“Why did I know where your room was?” Jungkook finally asks and Taehyung pauses where he is digging through his dresser drawers for spare clothes.

“Did you know?” Taehyung asks, but he won’t meet Jungkook’s eyes. “Maybe you just got lucky.” 

Jungkook keeps quiet as Taehyung holds out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt. 

“These should fit you,” he says cheerily, “and I’ll leave a toothbrush out on the counter.” He makes a move to leave the room. “The bathroom is just across the hall.” 

Jungkook stares blankly at the door when Taehyung closes it shut behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more. He vaguely wonders if he would have known where the bathroom was on his own if Taehyung hadn’t told him, but he shakes the thought out of his brain immediately, clinging to the thought of coincidences and luck. 

He pulls on the clothes Taehyung handed to him quickly before opening the door and peering out into the hallway. He can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed to find it completely empty. He scurries across the hallway to the bathroom, knocking timidly before going inside. He quickly brushes his teeth and splashes water on his face, attempting to soothe his nerves. When he finally yanks the door back open, he runs directly into Namjoon, yelping and taking a few disorienting steps backward.

“Sorry, sorry,” Namjoon says, placing a steadying hand on Jungkook’s side. “I just wanted to quickly show you where our rooms are in case you need anything tonight.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You’d never bother us,” Namjoon says, scrunching his eyebrows together as if the very thought was absurd. “You’re in an unfamiliar place, I want you to be comfortable.”

“I feel comfortable here,” Jungkook says immediately, realizing how true the words are as they filter out of his mouth. “With you guys, I feel comfortable.”

“Good,” Namjoon says a little dreamily, blinking back at Jungkook until he has to duck his head from embarrassment. “I’m glad you feel that way.” They stay quiet for a few beats before Namjoon clears his throat, breaking up the tension. “Either way, I’m in the room next to yours, the navy door. If you need anything I’m a pretty light sleeper all you have to do is knock.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook nods, shyly. 

“At the end of the hallway is Hoseok, the red door,” Namjoon points toward the far end. “And across from you, in the yellow room is Jimin.” Namjoon’s face scrunches up into a large smile. “Taehyung and Jimin are the youngest but they’re extremely protective. If you get lonely or nervous throughout the night, you could join them and they wouldn’t even blink an eye.”

“I don’t think I’ll need to join their bed,” Jungkook says, a little embarrassed, fighting the blush threatening to take over the planes of his face.

“Of course not,” Namjoon replies, “just making an observation.”

He clears his throat and motions to the opposite end of the hallway on the other side of the staircase.

“Jin and Yoongi’s rooms are over there, the pink door is Jin’s and the black door is Yoongi’s,” Namjoon leans his shoulder against the wall as he surveys the hallway. “Honestly I don’t know who you feel the most comfortable with, but you’re welcome into any one of our rooms if you start to feel lonely during the night.” Jungkook nods.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” he says. “Taehyung’s room is cozy, it’s nice of him to let me stay there.”

“Yeah, nice,” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “He’s been staying in Jimin’s room every other night since we moved here so it wasn’t that big of a sacrifice, I promise.”

Jungkook chuckles, ignoring the way his stomach flips at the insinuation.

“Well, this is where I leave you,” Namjoon finally says, hovering a hand over Jungkook’s shoulder but not actually touching. “Sweet dreams, Jungkook-ah.”

“Sweet dreams,” Jungkook whispers, backing away toward the forest green door across from them.

“Promise you’ll knock on one of our doors if you need to,” Namjoon pleads, taking a step and leaning toward his own bedroom door.

“I promise,” Jungkook says, finally stepping into Taehyung’s room and closing the door behind him.

He heaves a sigh of relief as the door closes, willing the heat of his cheeks to cool down under the breeze of the overhead fan. He immediately dives into the bed, cuddling into the fresh sheets and gathering the comforter up around his face so only his nose and eyes peek out. 

One thing he knows is that no matter how lonely he gets, he’s not leaving the bed tonight. He rubs his legs together as if kindling a fire, until there’s only warmth emanating from under the covers and empties out his mind until he can finally drift off.

Jungkook sleeps the best he’s ever slept that night.

He blinks his eyes open to the sunrise and the birds chirping in the distance let him know it’s time to get up and out of bed, but he’s so warm that it’s almost impossible to move from his cocoon of blankets. He stretches until each notch in his spine pops before swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, forcing himself to get up.

He cracks the door open, peering out into the hallway, but it’s deserted with every door still closed, as it was last night. He vaguely wonders if Namjoon had stayed up later than usual, expecting Jungkook to seek solace in his room. He quickly tucks his own guilt away before he ventures down the stairs, following the sounds of low murmuring and the clinking of plates until he’s back in the kitchen once more.

“Good morning, Jungkook-ah,” Jin calls out, working with Hoseok at the stovetop. “I hope you slept well.”

“So well,” Jungkook admits, peering out of the window to see the early morning rays filter through the branches and leaves, saying a silent good morning to the forest outside. “I hope I didn’t miss the train.”

“Nonsense,” Hoseok says, pushing him toward an empty chair on the other side of the dining room table. “We’d have woken you up if the whistle had come through,” Hoseok says. “Namjoonie is a light sleeper.”

“He said that, yeah,” Jungkook nods, settling into the chair as he observes them futzing around in the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“In any other circumstance, I'd be chomping at the bit to get you involved,” Jin assures. “But you’re tired, and our guest, so you need to stay seated for my own sanity.”

“Of course,” Jungkook giggles, tucking his hands underneath his thighs on the seat below him.

He watches the way Hoseok and Seokjin move around each other, as if in perfect tune with each other's bodies, moving in such a lyrical rhythm that Jungkook finds himself falling into a haze. 

“This place is magic isn’t it?” Jungkook whispers, so quiet that he’s sure they can’t hear him over the sizzling of the pans on the burners, but they both look over their shoulders, mouths open in shock.

“I thought you didn’t believe in magic, Jungkook-ah,” Jin says, fingers dancing lightly over the sleeve of Hoseok’s sweatshirt.

“I didn’t,” he says, shifting in his seat so much that it squeaks loudly, jarring in the space around them. “But maybe I’m considering it.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says, eyes crinkling up as a large smile spreads across his face. “Well that’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“This place is magic, yes,” Jin says, removing the pan from the stove in front of him. “Does that scare you?”

“Scare me?” Jungkook says, leaning back in the chair as he considers the question. “I thought it might, before I met you all,” Jungkook says, ducking his head to hide the color spreading across his face. “But now I just feel warm.”

“Warm,” Hoseok says, dreamily. “I like that.”

“I’m glad you feel warm, Jungkook-ah,” Jin agrees, bumping his hip against Hoseok’s as he turns off the stove. “I feel warm as well.”

As soon as Hoseok and Jin start plating the food, the others start meandering into the kitchen, hair in disarray and scrubbing at their eyes to stay awake.

“How’d you sleep, Jungkook-ah?” Jimin asks, petting over the back of Jungkook’s neck and playing with the strands of hair there.

“I slept well,” he replies, leaning back heavily into the palm of Jimin’s hand.

“Taehyung’s bed is nice, isn’t it?” Jimin asks, digging his fingers more confidently into the muscles of Jungkook’s neck, massaging along the lines there until he gets to the top of his spine.

“Yeah,” Jungkook hums, turning slightly to find Taehyung leaning his hip against the head of the table. “Thanks again for letting me stay there,” Jungkook says. “It was very nice of you.”

“Anytime,” Taehyung says, waving him off and stifling a yawn behind his hand. “Jiminie’s bed is pretty nice as well.” Taehyung raises his eyes to meet Jimin’s just over Jungkook’s head, smirking. Jungkook squirms a little in his seat until Jimin finally drops his hand to walk to the other side of the table.

“You guys are insufferable,” Yoongi says, but there’s a small smile on his face that betrays his fondness as he takes the seat next to Jungkook. “You look good,” Yoongi says, just loud enough for Jungkook to hear. “Well-rested, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, ducking his head to hide the ever-present blush on his face. “I feel good.”

“I’m glad,” Yoongi laughs, a breathy sound that escapes his mouth in bursts.

“Mind if I sit here?” Namjoon asks, pulling out the chair on his other side.

“Go for it,” Jungkook says. “Sorry if I’m in someone else’s seat.”

“No, it’s nobody’s seat,” Namjoon says, settling down next to him, but Jungkook has a hard time believing that considering it’s in the middle of the table, but he lets it slide for now.

He watches as they all settle in around the table, taking helpings and passing it down the line of people. Jungkook gets the biggest helping, biting at his lip to hide how pleased he is. He leans into the touch when Yoongi tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, when Namjoon pats his thigh reassuringly, when Taehyung and Jimin bump their feet against his ankles under the table in a silent show of solidarity. 

Jungkook feels the warmth of these people and this home enveloping him so wholly, that something familiar glimmers in the back of his mind. Images echoing throughout his skull and ricocheting against the backs of his eyelids, flickering in and out of his memory. Familiar to him, but he doesn’t know how.

The memories play back to him as if he’s watching a movie, grainy and uncertain. 

He recalls Jin helping Namjoon in the garden, holding a basket for him and pointing out different herbs that are ready to be harvested. He sees Taehyung and Yoongi stocking shelves at the shop, Yoongi up on the highest rung of a ladder to reach the top of the bookcase, and Taehyung holding out a steadying hand to make sure he doesn’t fall. He sees Jimin and Hoseok sprawled across a bed, and when Hoseok knocks over a glass of water from laughing too hard, Jimin catches it without actually touching it, gathering the water back into the cup as if the fall was playing in reverse. 

Jungkook blinks a few times to clear away the memories that can’t be memories. He looks around the room, watching the way they all interact with each other. He’s hypnotized by the cadence of their voices and the way the tones weave together in the air around him, then it all clicks. He sucks in a breath so hard that the force of it rattles through his rib cage, knocking his bones together almost painfully.

These people aren’t strangers to him.

“I’ve been here before, haven’t I?”

The room goes silent.

Chapter Text

“I’ve been here before,” Jungkook repeats, words a little more certain as his eyes flit around the room, shoulders hunching over as if to protect himself when all he’s met with is more stunned silence. “Can someone say something? Please?”

“Yes,” Seokjin says, clearing his throat and the others automatically straighten up a little in their seats at the admission.

“I mean before,” Jungkook says, pulling his sleeves down and bunching the fabric in his fists. “Before the ring,” he meets Seokjin’s eyes for a brief second before sliding them over to Taehyung. “Before the moon dust.”

“Yes,” Seokjin repeats, nodding slowly. “You were here before all of that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but closes it soon after with a loud click. There’s so many questions zooming around his brain that he doesn’t even know where to begin.

“How many times?” he settles on, clenching his eyes shut, unable to look at any of them as more images of moments he hasn’t seen before flash behind his eyelids. Images that he can now categorize as memories. 

“I’ve lost count,” Namjoon says, voice filtering in through the stream of memories.

“You lost count,” Jungkook repeats, dumbly, blinking his eyes back open to look around the table. The others look sheepish, guilty almost as Jungkook surveys them silently. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Jungkook asks, thinking maybe he should be more worried about how it’s possible he doesn’t remember, but can’t fight back the sting of hurt.

“Yes!” All six of their voices jump in suddenly, echoing around each other desperately as if begging Jungkook to understand.

“Of course we were going to tell you,” Taehyung says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “If we had to.”

“What do you mean if you had to?” Jungkook asks, shoulders deflating. His whole body lags back in his chair, wood creaking in protest under his weight as all of the fight seeps out of him.

“We just hoped that maybe you’d remember first, is all,” Yoongi says quietly, swaying sideways just slightly toward Jungkook, not close enough to touch, but close enough for Jungkook to feel the heat emanating from him, or at least imagine it, shivering a little from his proximity.

“You came every weekend for several months,” Jimin says, the first one to reveal actual information to Jungkook.

"Every weekend?" Jungkook asks.

“Yes,” Jin nods, shifting his weight from side to side on the chair. “You showed up every weekend, or what I can assume was every weekend for you,” he shrugs, blinking his eyes a bit too rapidly for comfort. “And then at some point you just stopped showing up.”

“I stopped showing up?” Jungkook says, quietly trying to digest the information quickly but nothing seems to be clicking together succinctly. “How long ago was it?”

“It’s been a while, Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok says, a sad smile forming on his face, and Jungkook has to physically drag his eyes away, not wanting to see such a bright person look so down because of him, but he can’t help but feel a little angry. 

“And you didn’t think to come find me?” he asks, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You weren’t worried about me at all?”

“Of course we were worried about you,” Jin says, and it’s the first time Jungkook has ever heard him sound even the slightest bit mad. He feels himself shrink back at the words.

“Things work differently around here, as I’m sure you’ve realized,” Namjoon soothes, voice smoothing out the tension in the room. “Time moves differently.”

Jungkook finds himself wanting to ask more about it, but he thinks they wouldn’t give him a proper answer.

“We knew you were safe, the forest made sure to tell us that much,” Taehyung says. “All the leaves would be dying if you weren’t safe.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, eyebrows furrowing together. “Why would the leaves be dying?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it right now,” Taehyung says, slowly. His eyes are turned upwards as if he’s trying to look into the caverns of his own brain for the answers.

“The sunflowers were dead the first time I got off the platform,” Jungkook whispers, finally unclenching his hands and rubbing his thumb absentmindedly over the crescent shaped indents he left behind.

“What do you mean the sunflowers were dead?” Jin asks, he sounds alarmed to Jungkook’s ears, even if he can tell he’s trying to keep his voice as level as possible.

“The first time the train stopped here,” Jungkook says, shaking his head a little. “I mean, I guess it wasn’t the first time but, the day I got the ring,” he swallows, looking around the table and he’s met with identical looks of confusion. “The entire field was brown and sunflowers were bent down, facing the dirt.”

“The sunflower field was dead?” Namjoon asks, and he sounds hurt almost, shifting in his seat as if he has to physically restrain himself from going to check on them. 

“Well, of course, they were,” Jungkook says. “It was winter.” He tries to keep his tone light, eyes trained on Namjoon, hoping to find the right words to calm him. “They can’t stay yellow year-round.”

“The sunflowers are always in full bloom, Jungkook-ah,” Jin says and Jungkook sucks in a breath, clenching his teeth together.

“Well, I don’t know,” he huffs out. “They looked pretty dead that day.”

“Do they still?” Yoongi asks, fingers tapping on the table. The rhythm should be unsettling but Jungkook finds himself relaxing at the sound, as if the uneven tempo was lulling him into a dream.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head, voice a little breathy. “They’re beautiful.”

Yoongi hums but doesn’t comment and Jungkook has to blink a few times to be able to come up with his next question.

“You know me though,” Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side as if to stretch his neck as he searches for the next thought. “I wasn’t just a customer, was I?”

“You were at first,” Jin says, tipping his head back as if trying to recall a memory from deep within him. “You were quiet the first few visits, kind of dreamy,” he says. “You sort of just floated from shelf to shelf,” he laughs a little, but Jungkook can’t really tell what’s funny. “But then again a lot of our customers are like that.”

“So what made me different?” Jungkook asks desperately, leaning forward in his seat. “What made you remember me out of all of your other customers?”

“You kept coming back,” Jin says simply, shrugging. “You’re the first repeat customer I’ve ever had.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Jungkook presses, squinting his eyes at Jin as if he could see the answer written between the lines of his face.

“Maybe,” Jin shrugs, a little noncommittal, but after the silence drags for too long his shoulders sag. “I could feel it.”

“Feel what?” Jungkook asks, voice barely above a whisper, afraid to disrupt. It’s the first time he feels like he’s getting anywhere close to an actual answer.

“I don’t know how to put it into words,” Jin says. “But the first time you came into the shop I could feel that you were different.” He heaves a deep sigh. “Special.”

“And even after this long, the shop still remembers you,” Yoongi chimes in. “I mean for fuck’s sake, she gave you moon dust of all things.”

“What is the deal with the moon dust?” Jungkook asks, swiveling to direct his question at Taehyung this time. “Every time you guys mention it, it’s like some novel thing,” Jungkook shifts in his seat. “The ring too, I suppose. I can’t tell what any of it means.” His voice sounds desperate to his own ears, a little whiny perhaps, but there’s so much that’s being left out. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s not asking the right questions or if they’re deliberately not telling him something. “It’s like every time I mention the things from the shop, you all seem surprised.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” Taehyung says, slowly. “This is a lot to take in right now, and I think I agree with Yoongi,” he nods, tilting his head forward. “It’d be best if you try to remember on your own, so you’re not relying on our words.” He smiles a little sadly. “I mean, after all, to you we’re complete strangers.”

“But not to you,” Jungkook says, almost as a clarification, just to confirm to himself that this is all actually happening.

“Not to us, no,” Namjoon says, gently.

“So they’re memories then?” Jungkook asks. “All of the things I’m seeing right now,” he says, trying to puzzle his words together into something that makes sense. “I’m remembering things that have happened before, right?”

“That depends,” Hoseok says, leaning forward just slightly, squinting as if he could see through to Jungkook’s insides and watch the images playing in his head. “What do you think you remembered?”

Jungkook colors, shaking his head at the question and averting his eyes. The memories, if that truly is what they are, feel very personal to him, precious even. They feel so fragile, just wisps of things that once were, and Jungkook’s afraid that if he speaks them out loud, they’ll be lost to him once more. Dispersed into the ether and never to return. He wants to keep them close to his chest, at least for now. He’s only just gotten them back, after all.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi says quietly, so quietly that Jungkook’s not even sure anyone else at the table can hear him. “They’re yours,” he says, fingers once again tapping on the table. “You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Jungkook whispers back, but he can’t quite keep his voice as quiet as Yoongi’s no matter how hard he tries. He’s sure the rest of the table can hear him. “I’m just afraid.”

“That’s okay, too,” Yoongi nods. “So are we. This is uncharted territory.” He smiles just slightly, but it’s enough for Jungkook to relax once more. “Frankly, I’d be worried if you weren’t afraid.”

Jungkook straightens, breaking himself out of the moment with Yoongi. He eyes Yoongi’s fingers suspiciously as they lay slack on the table, no longer tapping that uneven rhythm. 

“What does that do?” Jungkook asks, louder now to include the others.

“What?” Jimin asks furrowing his eyebrows, gaze darting between Jungkook and Yoongi.

“The tapping,” Jungkook says, reaching a hand out to brush along the knuckles of Yoongi’s hand. “It does something to me, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” Yoongi says, curling his hand into a fist but leaving it on the tabletop so as to not dislodge Jungkook’s touch. “It’s just calming,” he shrugs a little sheepishly. “I don’t even realize I do it most of the time. Sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t mind,” Jungkook says, finally pulling his hands back and clasping them in his own lap as if to restrain himself. “It was nice.”

“Yoongi is a good mediator,” Hoseok says, looking between them fondly.

“He feels when people are uneasy,” Namjoon says, nodding stoically and tilting his head to the side. “It’s just second nature to him to try to comfort people.”

“When I said this place was magic,” Jungkook says, trying to keep his breathing steady and calm, eyes trained on the tips of Yoongi’s fingers. “You all are too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok says, smiling as he always is. “I thought that was obvious, sorry,” he shrugs, crossing one leg over the other. “I would have said something sooner.”

“This place is magic,” Jin says, nodding and looking at the others around the table. “And that’s why we were able to find it.”

“How was I able to find it then?” Jungkook asks, looking longingly at Yoongi’s fingers and wishing that they would start tapping against the wooden surface once more, anything to ease his confusion. 

“We don’t know,” Taehyung admits quietly, shrugging his shoulders a little dejectedly. “We’ve never been able to figure out how our customers make their way here.”

“Much less how you seemed to keep finding your way here,” Jimin chimes in, leaning against Taehyung’s side, a silent show of solidarity. Jungkook looks between them all, trying to find the right question that will get him the answer that he wants, but he comes up empty each time.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Jungkook says finally, giving up and heaving a deep sigh. 

“It’s complicated,” Yoongi begins, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before Hoseok cuts in.

“We don’t want you to feel bad,” he says, mouth drawing into a straight line of measured indifference. “Just because you once knew us and liked us, doesn’t mean you have an obligation to enjoy our company once again.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, straightening up in his seat and looking around the table. “Why would I not want to know you?” He’s a little annoyed at the prospect. “It’s you guys who wouldn’t want to know me, I’m sure.”

“Not a chance,” Jin says, firmly, waving a hand and looking away from him.

“We have every intention of earning your trust back,” Jimin says, taking over for Jin who is now looking out of the window, attempting to calm himself. “Ever since you walked back into the shop we’ve been trying to gain your friendship back.”

“We’d do it over and over again in a million different lives if we had to,” Namjoon says, smiling sadly as he glances over at Jin whose eyes are still trained on the window.

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask, letting out the breath he’s been holding. “I don’t understand,” he laughs, shaking his head a little. “I’m just me.”

“And that’s more than we could ever hope for,” Yoongi says quietly. “You’re everything.”

Jungkook colors at the words, looking between them one by one as they nod their agreements. He ducks his head, unable to come up with a proper response and decides to switch gears.

“Is the train coming back, then?” he asks at last, leaning forward to finally take his first bite of the breakfast that has long since gone cold on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know,” Jimin says, honestly, shrugging his shoulders in sympathy. “We can take you to the station regardless, though. Just in case.”

“You don’t know?” Jungkook asks, continuing to eat without pause because he sort of expected the answer. Their reactions to him showing up the night before gave him all of the information that he needed to know. The train not showing up wasn’t a normal occurrence. “What if it doesn’t come?”

“Then you’ll stay here,” Namjoon says, as if it’s the easiest explanation in the world. “We have plenty of room, it’s not like we’ll throw you out on the curb.”

“Is there really no other way out of here?” Jungkook asks, turning around in his seat to look at the forest through the window as if it could offer an alternative explanation. The others all look at each other, seemingly communicating just through glances alone and Jungkook tries his best not to feel left out.

“This place sort of lives outside of the general realm of things that you have come to know and be familiar with,” Yoongi says gently. “We have no need to leave this place, so the train is usually for people to come in.”

“Not to leave,” Jungkook says, reading between the lines. The others nod grimly and Jungkook heaves a deep sigh.

“We can come to that when we need to,” Jin says, finally tucking into his own breakfast. “The train might be coming just as normal today, so there’s no use worrying about what-if’s right now.” Jungkook feels Yoongi flinch beside him and thinks that maybe Jin kicked him underneath the table and he bites back a smile. “But for now, finish your food, it’s probably already gone cold.”

Jungkook nods dutifully and digs in, throwing a sideways glance at Yoongi and smirking at the pink on his cheeks.

It’s the third hour of waiting for the train and Jungkook can tell by the looks on the others’ faces that it’s not coming. The rope has been tight around his stomach, almost suffocatingly so. He worries that if he were to take a single step forward that he’d be split in half from the force of it.

“Can we go meet Jin-hyung at the shop?” Jungkook asks and watches as the others deflate, a little grateful.

“Yeah, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says, draping an arm over his shoulders. “Let’s go back to the shop.”

“Jin’s probably expecting us by now,” Hoseok agrees.

“Besides there’s probably a lot you haven’t seen there just yet,” Jimin pipes up, skipping to catch up with them and bumping his hip against Jungkook’s.

“Yeah, I believe it,” Jungkook chuckles, bumping his hip back to show that he’s okay, that he’s not too torn up about the train not arriving. That he’d secretly been hoping that it wouldn’t come to take him away from the one place he’s felt like he actually belongs. “That place is endless,” he says, tilting his head a little to the side. “And yet I never seem to get lost in it.”

“That’s her charm,” Taehyung says a little dreamily. “She’ll never lead you astray, but sometimes she does have her own agenda.” Taehyung laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at Yoongi who just rolls his eyes back.

“I got lost one time and you still can’t let it go,” Yoongi huffs out and Jungkook giggles along with them, feeling the way the rope goes slack once again around his midsection. He wonders, not for the first time, if the feeling of home has less to do with the forest and more to do with the people who dwell within her branches.

The door jingles overhead when they all single file through, alerting Jin to their presence.

“I didn’t hear the train horn,” Jin says, nodding slowly as if he expected them to arrive. “I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah, truly I am.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “At least I have more time to figure out what it is I’ve forgotten.” He flicks his eyes up a little pointedly as if asking for the memories to be handed to him on a silver platter, but all he gets is a wry smile and a shrug of the shoulders.

“I suppose so,” Jin replies, heaving a deep sigh. “Well, the shop is excited to have you back, at least.”

“Is she?” Jungkook asks, a little hopefully, leaning his hip against the doorframe in an effort to comfort them both. “Jimin said there’s a lot to this place I haven’t seen, so I thought I’d look around some more while you work.”

“Be my guest,” Jin says, gesturing toward the rest of the shelves. “She loves to be admired, I’ll tell you that much,” he laughs, dragging a hand lightly along the wall behind him.

Jungkook ducks his head, biting back a smile as he moves through the shop. He tries to go in a straight line, vaguely wondering if he’ll ever reach a back wall or if it’ll just redirect him back to Jin like it usually does. 

“Why did you give me the moon dust?” he whispers, trailing his fingertips along the cracks in the dark green wallpaper as his eyes skirt over the various jars displayed haphazardly on the mismatching shelves. “And the ring,” he tacks on, tapping the metal of it against the wall and shivering at the hollow sound that echoes around him. “Why can’t I remember you?”

Sure enough, after only a few minutes of walking he makes it back to the counter.

“Did anything catch your eye?” Jin asks a little cheekily, leaning his hip against the counter. You , Jungkook’s mind supplies and he shakes his head to get rid of the errant thought. 

“I guess the shop doesn’t have any more to give,” he shrugs.

“You were gone for a while,” Jin hums, straightening up. “I’m surprised you didn’t find anything.”

“I was?” Jungkook asks, looking over his shoulder to see the oranges and pinks of the sky through the window. He felt like he was only walking for a few minutes, and yet the sun is already setting over the horizon.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Jimin says, poking his head out from around the nearest shelf. “She stopped giving me gifts after the first visit.” He huffs out a breath, patting his hand on the wood of the floor. “But she has other ways of welcoming people,” he smiles. “You’ll see soon enough, I’m sure.”

“Well, time to close up shop,” Jin says, clapping his hands together. “The others should be on their way back to walk us to the house.”

“Do they usually do that?” Jungkook asks, waiting patiently for Jin to turn off all of the lights.

“Not all the time,” Jimin shrugs, pushing through the front door. Jungkook follows them out of the shop and sure enough, the rest of them are already sitting on the front steps waiting.

“Where’s Yoongi?” Jungkook can’t help but ask, eyes trailing along the group, counting in his head when he comes up short.

“He’s back at the house, don’t worry,” Taehyung says, draping an arm across Jungkook’s shoulders. “Shall we?” he says, gesturing to Jungkook to walk forward as they weave their way through the trees back to the house.

“Well, since you’ll be staying here for a while,” Namjoon says, ducking under a low-hanging branch. “You might as well have your own room.”

“A while?” he asks, a little meekly, while the others exchange their signature glances, a side of themselves that he hasn’t been allowed access to yet.

“Well, we don’t know for sure,” Taehyung shrugs, glancing over his shoulder to catch eyes with Jimin. “But we’ve got plenty of room, so I’m sure you’d feel more comfortable in your own space.”

“Right,” Jungkook says, clasping his hands behind his back as he follows their lead, leaves crunching loudly beneath his boots. “Thanks again for letting me use your room last night.”

“It was no trouble,” Taehyung says, waving him off without a second glance. “I obviously wasn’t using it anyway.” He lets out a joyful laugh as his eyes slide over to Hoseok now. “Might not even use it tonight if I’m honest.”

“Is this your attempt to invite yourself over to my room tonight?” Hoseok asks, a smile already spreading across his face.

“Your bed is the comfiest in the house,” Taehyung insists, lower lip jutting out expertly, impossible to deny.

“I thought you said mine was the comfiest,” Jin says, eyebrow raising defiantly as he steps up into the conversation. Jungkook can feel the warmth of his hand as it hovers over the small of his back and has to physically restrain himself from leaning back into the touch.

“No, yours is the coziest ,” Taehyung clarifies, a hint of a whine making its way into his words. “Hoseok’s is the comfiest.” He slides up to latch onto Hoseok’s arm. “It’s a very subtle but important distinction,” he sniffs. “And tonight I need comfy, not cozy.”

“Right,” Jin says, nodding gravely, but there’s a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth when Hoseok doubles over from the strength of his laughter.

“You’re welcome over anytime, Taehyung,” Hoseok says, slightly out of breath. “You know that by now.”

Jungkook watches on with something akin to longing in the pit of his stomach. The rope tightens around his middle section just barely, even though he’s near them. Jungkook furrows his brow in confusion at the feeling, but shrugs it off as they finally make it to the house, filing one by one through the front door.

“Namjoon-ah!” Yoongi calls from the top of the stairs, bounding lightly down to greet them in the entryway. “Why don’t you give Jungkook-ah a tour of the house?”

“Are we sure he needs a tour?” Taehyung asks, elbowing Namjoon in the side. “He knew where my room was just fine last night without anyone telling him.” He’s joking but Jungkook can’t help but feel a little lost, like he’s disappointing them somehow by not remembering. 

“Take him around anyway,” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes before he turns to Jungkook, lowering his voice. “Will you tell us if something looks familiar to you? Anything at all, no matter how small. I think it’d be helpful to know how much was lost.” It’s the same tone he always uses with Jungkook and he can’t help but blush, it makes him feel special, precious even.

“I’ll tell you,” Jungkook nods dutifully. “I promise.” He turns toward Namjoon, waving in front of him. “Lead the way.”

Namjoon ducks his head, biting out a chuckle as he leads Jungkook down the hallway just to the right of the stairs. 

“You’ve already seen the kitchen and the living room,” he says waving his hand toward the doorways as they pass them. “Have you done much exploring since you got here yesterday?”

“No,” Jungkook said, shaking his head as he tries to time his steps to Namjoon’s, shuffling quietly behind him. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

“You say that a lot,” Namjoon muses, but doesn’t comment on it further.

“This is where I keep all of my indoor plants,” Namjoon says, pointing through to the first room on their tour. There’s no door there, just an archway showing a mass of green with varying leaves poking up at odd angles. He half expects the ground to be just a bed of dirt instead of floorboards, but when he looks down he sees what he thinks used to be black and white checkered tiles, but are now almost one solid shade of gray. The white squares scuffed, and the black squares faded from years of use. 

Jungkook feels claustrophobic just looking at the room, unsure of how Namjoon can even walk in there.

“How do you reach them all to water them?” he asks, fingers grazing delicately over the nearest leaf, sticking out of the doorway.

“Sprinklers,” Namjoon shrugs, pointing to the ceiling, and sure enough there are little water spigots hanging down from the rafters. “It mists in here fairly often,” he says. “But I can never seem to keep it to a schedule.”

“Meaning you’re constantly getting wet,” Jungkook smiles at him.

“Pretty much,” Namjoon chuckles. “Jimin stays in here a lot,” he adds on, pointing to the back corner of the room where Jungkook can just barely make out a small red stool, tucked behind the leaves. “He’s good with them.”

“Them?” Jungkook asks. “The plants you mean?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, continuing on down the hallway. “Sometimes I think they like him better than me.”

They walk past a door that’s glowing so brightly Jungkook has to shield his eyes a little when they pass it, but Namjoon makes no move to open the door, just breezing past.

“What’s in that room?” Jungkook asks, slightly entranced as they walk by it, eyes glued to the cracks around the door frame releasing the golden rays.

“That’s Taehyung’s star room,” Namjoon says, glancing over his shoulder at Jungkook. “It’s best if I keep the door closed, especially at this time of night.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks, slowing his steps as he continues to stare at the door.

“They’re always at their brightest at night,” he says as if it’s obvious. “I’m pretty sure our eyes would shrivel up in their sockets if I opened that door.” He laughs at the appalled look Jungkook sends his way. “Taehyung is the only one who can really bear it.”

The next door Namjoon opens shows an empty room, save for a silver curtain fluttering slightly against an open window. Jungkook looks up at Namjoon who only gazes back at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what is this room?” Jungkook asks, blinking owlishly back at the space. The curtain moves differently to fabric, almost like liquid, splashing against the window with each gentle breeze.

“Take a look at the window,” Namjoon urges, pointing across the room.

Jungkook looks a little more closely through the window and notices that there are no trees to be seen. Instead, in place of the forest, are several stone houses lined up next to each other. Some of the windows on the houses are lit up and Jungkook can just barely make out the shadows of other people moving within them.

“What?” Jungkook asks a little dumbly, glancing over his shoulder at Namjoon.

“It’s funny isn’t it?” Namjoon says.

“Funny?” Jungkook asks, walking over to the window to get a clearer view. Instead of the forest floor, their house seems to be perched on a suburban street, surrounded by other families.

“This room sort of showed up one day out of the blue and we don’t think it actually belongs to this house,” Namjoon shrugs. “I think it’s kind of cool, but Hoseok is deathly afraid of it.” He laughs a little when Jungkook starts backing away from the window. “You’ll never catch him walking near this side of the house.”

“Should I be worried?” Jungkook asks, retreating back to Namjoon’s side.

“I don’t think so,” Namjoon says simply, but he closes the door nonetheless and gestures to the other side of the hallway.

“That door goes to the bathroom,” Namjoon says, opening the door just long enough for Jungkook to get a brief glance before it’s shut again. “It’s not very interesting, but good knowledge to have.” Jungkook nods, trailing quietly behind Namjoon. 

“And this one is just a closet,” he says, but when he opens the door, Jungkook’s eyes almost roll out of his head.

“ That is a closet?” he asks, peeking his head inside. It’s so huge that even if Jungkook squints he can’t find the back wall. “This is practically another house.”

“Well, we need a lot of room for storage,” Namjoon shrugs. “There’s seven of us who live here, after all.” Jungkook can’t help but warm at Namjoon’s words, the feeling of being included in that number hitting him harder than he would have thought. But he feels his gut sink when his eyes land on something leaning against a stack of boxes.

“Is that a skeleton?” he asks, warily, feeling a little unsteady.

“It’s fake, don’t worry,” Namjoon assures, heaving a sigh and shaking his head. “Jin thinks he’s funny.” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, looking between the skeleton and Namjoon.

“What?” Namjoon asks. “You’ve never heard the phrase ‘skeletons in the closet’ before?” Jungkook snorts, rolling his eyes as Namjoon closes the door once more. “He wanted to put dozens in there, but we haggled him down to just the two.” Jungkook doesn’t ask where the second one is, but makes a note to search for it if he’s ever bored.

He feels himself warming from the inside out as they move further back into the house. Each room feels mismatched somehow, but in a familiar way. Like they didn’t originally belong to the house, but have somehow carved a space out for themselves that now feels natural. Jungkook can’t keep the smile off of his face as he follows behind Namjoon, eyes greedily taking in his surroundings until they make it to the final room.

“And this,” Namjoon says, opening the door at the very end of the hallway with flourish, “is our library.” His eyes slide hopefully toward Jungkook, as if begging him to remember, but he doesn’t say anything more, just moves aside to let Jungkook trail through the doorway.

It’s huge. Bigger than any other room they’ve been in so far, even the closet, and the ceilings reach so high Jungkook’s almost positive it can’t belong to the same quaint looking house he saw from the outside. The whole backside of the room is walled with windows so Jungkook can see Namjoon’s garden, blooming beautifully just beyond the shelves. He turns back to look at Namjoon, framed in the doorway. 

“It’s beautiful,” he says, whispering as if he could shatter the atmosphere of the room just by speaking too loud. “This is your favorite room isn’t it?”

“What makes you say that?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head to the side as he leans against the door frame.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, turning back around to scan his eyes along the spines of the books in front of him, fingers twitching at his sides, fighting the urge to feel the worn leather beneath his fingertips. “A room full of books with a perfect view of your plants?” Jungkook laughs. “Seems like you.” Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat when he realizes, whirling around to look at Namjoon once more. 

“Why would I know that?” he whispers, mostly to himself. His eyes scan Namjoon up and down, as if the lines of his body could give him the answer he’s looking for.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon says, noncommittal as he backs out of the doorway and ushers Jungkook to follow behind him. He closes the door with a dull click and leads him back the way they came, toward the front of the house.

Jungkook trails behind him a little helplessly, fingers tapping aimlessly against the tops of his thighs. He anxiously skates his gaze across the photographs adorning the walls, trying with all his might to avert his eyes from the way the hair at the back of Namjoon’s neck curls against the collar of his sweatshirt, soft and inviting. And warm , Jungkook’s mind supplies.

He shakes his head, embarrassed, nodding politely when he realizes that Namjoon has been speaking to him this whole time.

“Well, that’s the first floor,” he announces. “And you’ve seen most of the second floor, it’s just our rooms up there,” he shrugs, fingers curling around the bannister as they make their way up. “But I can show you where you’ll be staying, at least.”

He stops at the top of the stairs a bit abruptly and Jungkook skids a bit in his steps to stop himself from running into his back.

“Is there really enough room for me?” he asks, peering around Namjoon’s shoulder. He looks down the hallway at all of the different colored doors, but he doesn’t see any extra rooms, or another set of stairs. “This place isn’t expandable is it?”

“Not expandable, no,” Namjoon chuckles. “But did you try looking up?”

“Up?” Jungkook mutters, tilting his head back to scan the ceiling. Right above the stairway landing, fitting snugly between the ceiling tiles, sits a wide rectangle of purple with a chain hanging from one end, just low enough for Jungkook to reach if he stretches.

“That’s a room?” he asks, voice airy as he reaches up to brush against the chain. The light jingling off of the links as they rattle against each other tickles something in the back of Jungkook’s mind and he jerks his hand back as if he was scalded.

“It’s the attic,” Namjoon says, eyeing him warily and reaching up to grab the chain himself. He pulls lightly and a narrow ladder unfurls in front of them. “It’s a big space, a little secluded, but I think that’s something you might like.” Namjoon rambles on a little nervously, placing the ladder gently on the floor, where the wood has already been haphazardly scratched up.

“You think I might like it? Or you know I like it?” Jungkook asks, glancing sideways to observe the color spreading across the apples of Namjoon’s cheeks.

“Know, maybe,” Namjoon says, clearing his throat as they both stare up at the room, neither of them making a move to climb up.

“Know that I like to be secluded?” His stomach clenches at the implications that he’s being sectioned off from the others up here. That it’s something he apparently likes. 

“That you like to have your own space,” Namjoon clarifies. “And when you want to be with us, you know where to find us.” He shrugs, finally hooking his foot onto the first rung of the ladder and waving for Jungkook to follow after him.

Jungkook feels his own cheeks coloring, ducking his head and focusing on taking his steps carefully. He keeps his eyes focused down at the wooden rods on the ladder instead of up at Namjoon. The wood grain is a lighter shade where Jungkook instinctively lays his hands, ignoring the thought that it was sanded down from the roughness of his own palms over the years. When he skips a rung of the ladder on instinct, he notices it splintering on the right hand side, chips of wood sticking out at odd angles. Another thing he unconsciously knew to avoid.

“Well,” Namjoon heaves out a breath, finally getting to the top and reaching a hand down to help Jungkook up. “Here we are.”

Jungkook grabs onto Namjoon’s hand as he gets hauled up onto the platform. He holds on for just a touch too long, clinging to the warmth emanating from Namjoon’s skin, fingertips skirting greedily along the callous on the side of his finger.

He stumbles a little to catch his footing, leaning his hip against Namjoon’s for support before stepping away, shyly creating space between them.

“It’s a bit dark,” Namjoon says, dusting his hands off on the back of his jeans as he moves back to Jungkook’s side, not as close as they were, but the move is significant enough that it makes Jungkook’s stomach do a flip. “One second, let me find the window.”

Jungkook can just barely make out the outline of his body as he moves to the opposite side of the room. When he pulls the string to the blinds, dust spreads out in all directions, shimmering almost golden against the setting sun. 

Namjoon wrinkles his nose, waving a hand in front of his face to scatter the dust particles.

“We don’t go up here that often,” he explains. “It used to be infested with ghosts and we thought it was too much of a bother,” he chuckles, shuffling back over to stand beside Jungkook.

“Used to be?” Jungkook asks, a little alarmed as he looks around the room, expecting to see a ghoul crouched in the corner.

“Some of them have dispersed by now,” Namjoon says, calmly. “We’re not all that interesting after all.”

“Only some?” Jungkook responds, eyes widening.

“I think there’s a couple that have stayed behind,” Namjoon shrugs, tilting his head up to the ceiling. “Or maybe it’s just one,” he says, eyebrows wrinkling together in the middle of his forehead as if trying to listen out for any new hauntings. “It’s hard to tell,” he laughs.

Jungkook finally drags his eyes away from Namjoon’s face for long enough to take in his surroundings.

“Oh,” he breathes out, air whistling through his teeth as he scans the room in front of him.

“So,” Namjoon says, smiling widely. “What do you think?”

Jungkook sweeps his gaze over the room in front of him eyes wide as he takes everything in. The headboard of the bed is positioned just below the window in the center of the room with a nightstand on either side, just slightly mismatched. The mattress is bare, but hardly visible underneath the mountain of pillows piled on top.

Across from the bed is a dresser with sleek dark wood and a couple of tarnished hooks on the wall just next to it, they’re empty but Jungkook gets a flash of what might be a memory, or might be nothing at all. A brown leather jacket draped over one hook and his backpack draped over the other.

Jungkook takes a few steps forward, socks catching on a small rug peeking out from under the foot of the bed. It’s a dark purple to match the door of the attic, and so fluffy Jungkook has to stop himself from ducking down and raking his fingers through the tufts.

“I love it,” he breathes out, pressing a hand gently over his belly button where the rope still hangs completely slack around his abdomen.

“You love it?” Namjoon asks, head tilted and mouth open a little in awe as he gazes back at Jungkook.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, shifting on his feet. “I know you’re not really offering.”

“Offering?” Namjoon asks, bewildered. “I’m offering anything you want, Jungkook-ah,” he chuckles. “I’m glad you like it.”

Jungkook drags his toe across the floorboards beneath his socks, focusing on the sound of the fabric catching on the breaks between the wooden panels.

“This was my room wasn’t it?” he blurts out, whirling around to look at Namjoon.

“What?” he asks, mouth hanging open as if he has more to say but doesn’t know where to begin.

“This was my room,” Jungkook says, more as a statement now as he turns to look back at the room. He trails his eyes over the low hanging beams and walks deftly around the furniture as if he’s already mapped out the space in his brain unknowingly.

“Does it look familiar to you?” Namjoon asks, a little uncertain. Jungkook turns around to look at him again.

“Maybe,” he responds, quietly. “Maybe it doesn’t look familiar, but it feels familiar.” He trails his fingers along the edge of the window sill. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but,” Jungkook shakes his head, biting at the inside of his cheek. “It feels safe.”

“Warm?” Namjoon asks, a little jokingly, a little hopeful.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, swallowing thickly. “Warm.”

“We left it the way you had it,” Namjoon says, his fingers curling nervously at his sides. 

“Thank you,” Jungkook whispers, because there’s nothing more he can really say.

“Well,” Namjoon says, heaving a sigh and clapping his hands together as if they’ve both reached a mutual decision. “I guess you’ll let us know how many ghosts have decided to stick around then.” He chuckles to himself, shuffling back to the ladder jutting up from the floor of the attic. He whips his head up as an afterthought.

“Please don’t let that deter you,” he worries, hands reaching out in the air toward Jungkook. “I promise they’re very kind, just maybe a little lonely,” he says, hands falling dejectedly down to his sides.

Jungkook hums, looking toward the rafters as if he’d see a ghost sitting in the air above him.

“Yeah,” he mutters quietly. “I think I know the feeling.”

Namjoon gazes back at him, a little sad at the admission, but makes no further comments.

“Shall we?” he clears his throat, gesturing toward the ladder as he begins to climb back down into the house. Jungkook waits a moment until Namjoon has made it safely all the way down before he follows. 

He whispers softly to the ghosts in his new room.

“Maybe we can keep each other company.”

Chapter Text

He finds them whispering to each other almost erratically once Namjoon gently leads him back to the living room.

“Did you show him his room?” Jimin asks, jumping up from his spot onto the floor and rushing over to stand in front of them.

“I did,” Namjoon nods, laughing lightly as he steps around Jimin. “He called it beautiful,” he smirks.

“It’s got a certain charm to it, I think,” Jin agrees, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Does he know about the ghosts?” Hoseok says, sitting up straighter. “Please tell me you told him about the ghosts.”

“He knows about the ghosts,” Namjoon sighs. 

“I think you might be prone to downplaying things like that,” Hoseok sniffs. “I’m not sure I trust your communication skills and I don’t want the ghosts to scare him away.”

“I’ve already told him I promise,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Besides, I’m pretty sure it’s just the one now.”

“Still,” Hoseok says, leaning back into the couch cushions. “One ghost is too many ghosts for a house. I’ve been saying it from the beginning.”

“They’re not bothering us,” Taehyung shrugs, scooting over to make room for Namjoon to sit down.

“No, but just the thought of it,” Hoseok shivers.

“I think I’ll be okay,” Jungkook assures, padding lightly over to the chair he’d curled up in the night before, blessedly left free from him. He smiles lightly in thanks as he passes by the others.

“Did anything ring a bell?” Yoongi asks hopefully, head peeking out around Jin’s body.

“Maybe a couple of things,” Jungkook shrugs, sliding down into the cushions. “The attic I knew,” he swallows, blinking up at the ceiling. “It felt familiar there.”

“And the library,” Namjoon chimes in, a small smirk twitching at his mouth.

“You remembered the library?” Yoongi asks, mouth pushing out into a cute pout. “That’s odd, you never really spent all that much time there.”

“Well, I didn’t really remember the room itself,” Jungkook colors. “I just knew that Namjoon-hyung liked it there.”

“What?” Jimin squawks, sitting bolt upright. “No fair!” he whines. “You remembered Taehyung’s room and you remembered Namjoon’s favorite place, why can’t you remember things about me. ”

“I’m trying,” Jungkook says quietly. He knows that it was said in jest, but this whole thing has been so frustrating, being surrounded by six people who know more about him than even he does.

“We know you’re trying,” Jin says softly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jimin backtracks, ducking his head.

“I know you didn’t,” Jungkook rushes to say, automatically feeling bad at the flash of hurt across Jimin’s face. “I know, I just wish I could remember.”

“We do too,” Jin whispers.

“Well,” Yoongi says, getting to his feet and letting the blanket that was draped across his lap slide to the floor in a puddle. “Let me clean it first before you turn in for the night,” he sniffs, stretching his arms over his head until the notches in his spine let out a series of satisfying pops. “It was probably pretty dusty.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon laughs, jostling Taehyung on the couch next to him. “I don’t think any of us have been up there since Jungkook left.”

Jungkook flinches at the words, but no one notices, eyes following Yoongi as he makes his way out of the room.

“I can help,” Jungkook rushes to offer, scrambling to stand up, but Yoongi places a gentle hand on Jungkook’s kneecap before he can extract himself from the cushions.

“I’ve got it, Jungkook-ah,” he says, tapping lightly against the bone there. “I’m going to do anything in my power to make sure that staying here is comfortable for you,” he grins, turning back toward the doorway. “And that includes cleaning the room you’ll be staying in that I’m sure has a thick blanket of dust on every surface.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Jungkook says, biting at his bottom lip and resisting the urge to trail after him down the hallway.

“It’s my pleasure, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi replies lowly, and Jungkook thinks he sees the back of his neck turn a pretty shade of pink.

He forces himself to stay down in the living room for as long as he can, but his mind keeps wandering to thoughts of Yoongi upstairs. Occasionally he hears little clangs echoing down the staircase, and after a particularly loud thump, he gives up and gets to his feet. He bids everyone a quick goodnight, ignoring their knowing glances as he makes his way up to the attic.

“How’s it going?” Jungkook asks, as he climbs off of the last rung of the ladder, dusting off the knees of his pants.

“I think this is about as good as it’s going to get for now,” Yoongi says, looking over his shoulder when he notices Jungkook in the doorway.

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook says, moving over to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on Yoongi as he adjusts various things around the room.

“It suits you,” Yoongi mumbles, leaning his hip against the front of the dresser and pressing his weight against it until it leans flush against the wall.

“What does?” Jungkook asks

“The attic,” Yoongi explains, straightening up and cocking his head to the side as he observes the dresser placement. “It suits you.”

“In what way?” Jungkook whispers, biting down a smile as he runs his fingers along the creases in the duvet beneath him, too distracted to do much more than that.

“Secluded,” Yoongi starts. 

“Namjoon said the same thing,” Jungkook huffs, rolling his eyes a little.

“Beautiful, too,” Yoongi cuts in, winking over his shoulder. “Haunted, a bit,” he laughs, a breathy sort of sound. “But it’s important to the house,” he shrugs. “Necessary.”

“I’m not that important,” he scoffs, bringing his legs up to cross them on top of the covers.

“I disagree,” Yoongi whispers, so quiet that Jungkook’s not even sure that he hears it, breath catching in his throat.

“Anyways,” he says, finally turning away from the dresser. “If you ever get lonely up here, or if the ghosts ever give you too much grief, my door is always open.” He nods a little, pulling his mouth into a straight line and looking anywhere but into Jungkook’s eyes.

“Thank you, hyung,” Jungkook nods, dragging his fingers back and forth along the stitching of the covers. “I really appreciate it.”

“Right,” Yoongi says, nodding decisively. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. I’m sure the kids will want to help you decorate later on.”

“I shouldn’t need to decorate,” Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s only been one day, the train could still come back.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi says, clearing his throat. “It was just a thought, I suppose.”

Jungkook squirms on top of the bed, fighting back the urge to reach out to Yoongi. He desperately wonders how he used to bid them goodnight. Did they hug? He wonders. Did they kiss? His mind unhelpfully supplies.

“Have a good night’s sleep, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says, finally climbing down the ladder.

“You too, hyung,” he replies quietly.

Jungkook gets ready for bed slowly, gingerly stepping over the creaky floorboard that he’s not quite sure how he knows is creaky. When he tucks himself into bed, he lets the sounds of the others, meandering a floor below, lull him into a deep sleep, thoughts of lonely ghosts drifting in and out of his conscience.

Jungkook follows Jin to the shop the next morning, mostly because he has nothing better to do when the train whistle has yet to sound over the tops of the trees, but he also can’t deny that he misses it there. 

It’s only been one night and he’s already itching to go back. He loses time there more often than not, turned around and pulled in all directions, and he has no idea what he’s looking at every time he swivels his head, but he can’t brush off that feeling of wonder. His eyes grow wide as they skate over each shelf, every one different from the last and even different from the day before, or maybe the minute before.

It’s magical.

He’s sitting, enthralled by a couple of spinning tops on the bottom shelf of one of the bookcases just to the right of Jin’s counter. They weave expertly around each other, almost like a dance, but with no pattern in sight, brushing just slightly but never crashing. He doesn’t know how long he sits there watching them, but they never run out of momentum, spinning continuously.

He’s just about to reach out a finger to disrupt their rhythm when he hears it, a faint jingling echoing from the entrance of the shop. Jungkook whips his head up at the sound, not even noticing that the spinning tops have faltered in their dance, falling lifelessly against the wooden shelf, the second Jungkook looked away from them.

He watches the dark doorway, expecting one of the others to show up with a basket full of oddities to restock the shop, but it’s a stranger that walks through the entrance. 

Jungkook straightens up on instinct, glancing over nervously at Seokjin behind the counter, but he seems unbothered, smiling warmly at the newcomer. Jungkook can’t help but think it’s the same look he gave Jungkook when he first walked through that door.

“Welcome,” Jin says kindly, but the word falls almost uselessly on the ground between them as the person's eyes flit right over him, like he can’t even see him. “Feel free to look around,” Jin continues, not even flinching at the other’s silence.

“A customer?” Jungkook whispers, shifting onto his knees and crawling behind the counter to retreat from view. He tugs at Jin’s pant leg and warms when he giggles at his antics, ducking down below the counter to be at Jungkook’s level.

“What are you doing down here?” Jin asks, and he sounds so fond that Jungkook feels himself swaying forward by instinct, tugged in by his mere presence.

“Hiding,” he whispers in response, peeking over Jin’s shoulder just in time to see the stranger’s feet shuffling past the counter. “Why is this the first customer I’ve seen come through here?”

“I don’t know,” Jin shrugs, rocking back and forth on his heels as he continues to crouch down in front of Jungkook. “Our patronage is pretty sporadic at best,” he smiles, calmly. “We are in the middle of the woods in a place that shouldn’t exist, after all.”

“Shouldn’t you be watching him?” Jungkook asks, tapping at Jin’s knee as if to force him to stand back up.

“Watch him?” Jin asks, crinkling his brows in confusion. “Why would I do that when you’re far more interesting to look at?” Jungkook huffs, bringing his hands up to cover the red of his face as Jin erupts into bright squeaks of laughter, almost toppling over from the force of it.

“Aren’t you worried about him taking something, though?” Jungkook asks. “This place is so huge he could easily slip something into his pocket.” He peers over Jin’s shoulder again but the stranger is nowhere in sight. “I don’t even know where he’s gone off to.”

“The shop won’t let him take anything that doesn’t already belong to him,” Jin shrugs. Jungkook squints back at him, confused by the peculiar phrasing.

“Do you have something that belongs to him?” he prods, eyes raking across Jin’s face trying to decipher his meaning.

“Not that I know of,” Jin says. “But we must if he’s here.”

“Do people only come here if you have something that belongs to them?” Jungkook asks, speaking the words very slowly as if taking care to construct the correct question. One that might translate into an answer that he actually understands.

“Sort of,” Jin says, cocking his head a little to the side. “Everything here belongs to the shop, until she decides it belongs to someone else.” He chuckles a little when he sees Jungkook’s face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how best to explain it.” He sighs, finally standing up and wincing when his knees creak with the abrupt motion. “I don’t own anything in this shop,” he says, offering a hand to haul Jungkook up to his feet as well. “Not really, anyways.”

“So you had something that belonged to me?” Jungkook asks, flinching when Jin runs the pad of his finger along the band of metal on Jungkook’s hand.

“What?” Jungkook asks, yanking his hand away almost harshly. “This doesn’t belong to me.”

“It doesn’t?” Jin whispers, hand dropping bereft in the space between them.

Jungkook’s mouth opens, lips formed around an apology before a thought enters his head, stumping him.

“Wait,” he says, whirling around, eyes moving erratically across the store as if he could see the customer in its depths.

“What is it?” Jin asks, startled by his sudden outburst.

“How did he get here?” Jungkook asks, turning back to Jin in a rush.

“Same way you did, I suppose,” he shrugs, unbothered, but Jungkook’s ears start ringing the minute those words tumble out of Jin’s mouth.

“Did you hear the train?” Jungkook whispers, his breathing is loud in his own head, air rushing past his eardrums, and he sees when it finally dawns on Jin, his eyes growing round in alarm.

“No,” he says slowly, voice slightly out of breath as he turns toward the window, as if he’d be able to see the smoke from the train engine through the trees.

They’re interrupted when the man comes up to the counter holding one of the many jars that adorn the shop's shelves. Jin wraps up his item quickly, pleasantries tumbling out of his mouth, but the customer doesn’t react much, wordlessly taking the jar back and moving back to the shop’s entrance.

“I think I should follow him,” Jungkook says, rousing from his silence and quickly walking around the counter.

“What?” Jin asks, startled. His hand reaches out between them on instinct but pauses in the air as if unsure if he’s allowed to touch him. Jungkook watches his hand hover there, wishing desperately that he would reach out, but Jin seems to decide better of it, hand falling limply at his side. Jungkook watches it swing there, his own fingers twitching with want.

“You definitely shouldn’t follow him,” Jin says then, almost pleading.

“Why not?” he asks, eyes still trained on the tips of Jin’s fingers, clenching almost rhythmically in the air by his side. “He’s probably going back to the train stop, so if I go now I might be able to catch it.”

“But Jungkook-ah,” Jin pleads, at a loss for words as Jungkook starts backing away toward the door. “What if you don’t come back?” he asks quietly, eyes looking anywhere but at Jungkook.

“I’ve been taking up too much of your hospitality as it is, you shouldn’t have to give up your home to a complete stranger like this,” Jungkook says. 

“You’re not a complete stranger,” Jin says, taking a tiny step forward.

“I wasn’t,” Jungkook clarifies, shoulders deflating. “But I am now, aren’t I?”

The silence hangs.

“Maybe it’s cowardly,” Jungkook sighs, knowing full well that it is. “But I can’t stay with you guys forever.”

“Why not?” Jin asks and Jungkook feels himself freezing in his tracks.

“What?” but the rest of Jungkook’s thoughts get cut off by the ringing of the bell over the door once more.

“Oh, Jimin-ah! Perfect timing,” Jin says, walking forward and finally closing the distance between himself and Jungkook, demeanor completely shifting into something less serious. “We’ve just had a customer.”

“Okay?” Jimin says, slowly placing a bag of jars just inside the shop’s entrance, staring back at Jin as if he’s lost his mind. “It’s not exactly news that our shop, made for selling items to customers, has had a customer today.”

Jimin glances over at Jungkook, smirking slightly, but he falters at Jungkook’s expression. Jungkook can’t quite bring himself to smile back, still reeling from Jin’s words. Why not?

“Jimin,” Jin says sternly, rolling his eyes a little. “Jungkook wants to follow our customer to the train stop to see if he can catch the train this time.” There’s something a little imploring in his gaze, desperate even, and Jungkook can’t quite parse out what the last few bits of conversation mean. His ears are still ringing from the thought of never having to leave this place.

“Will you go with him?” Jungkook tunes back in when Jin pushes him toward Jimin. “Just make sure he gets to the train station okay.”

“Of course,” Jimin says, features carefully placed in some nondescript pattern, hoping to read as indifferent, but Jungkook thinks he can see something deeper between the lines of his face.

“Thank you, hyung,” he says instead, unwilling to address the underlying hurt.

They walk silently through the forest, leaves crunching loudly under their feet and with each snap Jungkook feels himself flinch. He glances sideways at Jimin, but nothing in his expression gives anything away, features still carefully indifferent.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, averting his eyes at the flicker of surprise that flits across Jimin’s face.

“No,” Jimin says, slowly, reaching a hand out to lift a branch for Jungkook to walk under, almost as if to prove a point. “Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs. “Jin seemed to not want me to come back to the station, is all.” Jungkook swallows, stepping over a thick branch jutting out of the earth. “And now you have to go out of your way to walk me there,” he says. “You really don’t have to, I’m sure I can make it just fine on my own.”

“You always seem to think you’re putting us out,” Jimin says, inquisitively, as if he’s trying to understand Jungkook but coming up blank. Jungkook bites back another apology. “I’m not going out of my way and I’m not mad,” he states simply. “Jin just worries,” he shrugs. “We all do.”

“But it’s not like I can’t come back.” Even as the words leave his mouth he’s not sure he believes them himself. They sound hollow to his own ears, falling lifelessly in between them onto the forest floor, because at some point he didn’t come back, and neither of them know why. 

Jimin gracefully doesn’t respond, though, silently guiding Jungkook to the forest edge until he’s finally back at the sunflower field. Jungkook feels a brief moment of calm at the sight of the sunflowers bobbing gently in the breeze, until that same tight feeling returns to his stomach.

He ignores the pull this time, quickening his pace as the train station finally comes into view. The customer is standing motionless next to the bench there, almost as if in a trance, and Jungkook keeps his eyes locked on him.

“Come on, Jimin-hyung,” Jungkook says, slightly out of breath, but he’s too afraid to take his eyes off of the platform, only the shuffling of the grass behind him betrays Jimin’s presence.

Jungkook pauses when he reaches the edge of the platform, not sure how best to proceed, but he doesn’t have to wonder long. 

He blinks once, twice, and the customer is gone.

“What?” Jungkook breathes out, whirling around in a circle but all he can see is Jimin ambling up to him, his eyes are just as wide as Jungkook’s probably, sweeping across the platform. “Where did he go? Did you see where he went?”

“No,” Jimin breathes out, finally catching up to him and bringing a gentle hand to cup around Jungkook’s elbow. “I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah, I don’t know what happened.”

“But the train,” Jungkook says, a hint of a whine in his voice as he finally steps onto the platform. “Did you see it?”

“No,” Jimin says, shaking his head. “But to be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to see it. None of us have, I don’t think.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, turning to face him.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, scuffing his feet against the brick. “We’ve always been able to hear it, and somehow we all know that’s how our customers arrive, but this place has always just been abandoned.” He gestures a little uselessly to the tracks, overgrown with weeds.

“But…” Jungkook opens and closes his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. “I’m never getting out of this place am I?” he finally says, staring at the empty train tracks, listening for the screech of wheels against the metal, but only hearing the swaying of the sunflowers behind him as their petals brush softly against each other.

“Is it really so bad?” Jimin asks, corners of his mouth downturned. Jungkook blinks back at him, now fully registering the emotion hiding beneath the layers of his face. It’s not anger, it’s hurt. Jin’s words ring out once again inside his head.

“I guess not,” Jungkook admits, quietly, peeking up at Jimin through his lashes. When he says nothing more, Jungkook continues on, hoping to break up some of the tension. “I’ve definitely lost my job at this point, though.”

“Maybe not,” Jimin shrugs, trying for indifference but Jungkook can see that the lines of his body are more relaxed than they once were.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks. “I’ve probably missed days of work being stuck here. With no notice? They’ve definitely given up on me.”

“Like we said, time moves differently here,” he says, simply. “They might not have even noticed you’re gone.” They stand there silently for a few beats, staring at the tracks. 

“Would anybody else notice?” Jimin asks after the silence stretches on for too long. His voice is so quiet that Jungkook has to strain to hear over the whistling of the wind through the trees.

“What do you mean?” he asks, finally stepping off of the platform and toeing his boots into the dirt.

“You said your work would notice that you’re gone,” Jimin clears his throat, tilting his head up to look over the top of the tree canopy ahead. “Is there anyone else that would be worried?”

Jungkook thinks for a moment, pushing his tongue against his bottom lip, and closing his jaw just tight enough to feel the scrape of his teeth when he drags his tongue back.

“I suppose not,” Jungkook admits, and the words weigh heavily, hitting the pit of his stomach with a thud. 

“We noticed,” Jimin whispers, as if he too could feel the weight of the words, how heavy they landed.

Jungkook lets Jimin’s words soothe the heaviness in his stomach, trailing lightly behind him as they make their way back to the forest's edge. The leaves flutter gently when Jungkook passes through, the warmest welcome he’s received so far, and he reaches out a finger to trail lightly along one of the branches, a silent thanks.

“Wow,” Jimin hums, watching the interaction with bated breath.

“What?” Jungkook asks, suddenly feeling self conscious and dropping his hand back down to his side.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, chuckling a little to himself. “I’ve just never seen her so happy.”

“Oh,” Jungkook whispers, unable to keep the awe out of his voice as he looks around him. He’s not sure he believes that the forest is a living thing just yet, but the thought is nice enough that he doesn’t bother questioning it. He keeps his steps light as he follows behind Jimin, apologizing silently for every twig that snaps under his weight.

“Are we going back to the house?” Jungkook asks, swiveling his head around in confusion when he sees the familiar gate. “Shouldn’t we go back to the shop so Jin doesn’t worry?”

“Jin is at home,” Jimin says, simply and Jungkook tilts his head up to look at the sky, but the sun is directly overhead, nowhere near closing time.

“How do you know?” he asks, but these kinds of questions feel almost useless within these forest walls, everyone here seems to just understand things intuitively, unlike Jungkook. And sure enough, Jimin simply shrugs his shoulders in response.

“I just know.”

When Jimin pushes him through the door, he can almost hear the tension in the house dissipate, as if the walls itself are sighing along with its inhabitants. 

“You’re here,” Taehyung says, almost like he can’t believe his eyes. He rushes forward, hands trailing along Jungkook’s shoulders and raking down his arms, as if to make sure that he’s not a mirage.

“When Jin said you were going back to the station, we thought,” Hoseok shakes his head, unwilling to finish the line of thought.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, throat clogged up, vaguely registering Yoongi’s sudden presence next to him, wondering how he missed him crossing the room. “I didn’t think it would be this big of a deal.” 

“Not a big deal?” Namjoon asks, voice louder than Jungkook has ever heard it. “We just got you back and you want to leave again already. Why would that not be a big deal to us?”

Jungkook shrinks in on himself, back colliding with Yoongi’s chest and he flinches back automatically before Yoongi reaches out to pull him back in. He places a hand gently on his hip and turns his face into Jungkook’s neck, breathing calmly and speaking words just for him.

“No one is mad at you.”

Jungkook feels himself sag from the impact of the words, leaning so heavily into Yoongi’s side that he doesn’t know how he’s able to hold them both up. Yoongi repeats the words over and over to him, until eventually Jungkook starts to believe him, finally straightening up and coming back to himself.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he says quietly. “Any of you.”

“Say it plainly, Jungkook-ah,” Jin breathes out, not unkindly, but with an air of seriousness that Jungkook is not yet accustomed to hearing from him.

“Can I please stay?” Jungkook asks, only just now realizing it was even an option in the first place.

“All you had to do was ask.”

When they gather in the living room that night, the air is lighter than it has been. There’s a feeling of relief hanging over all of their heads as they tuck themselves into the scattered cushions and blankets. Jungkook finds himself leaning into the routine, as if it's always been, the way they converge in this one room every night before heading off to their own separate bedrooms. 

They’re sprawled across every cushy surface, with at least some sort of contact linking them all together, a hand on a knee, an arm draped over a shoulder, a leg hooked over a leg. Jungkook hasn’t quite fallen into that skinship just yet, but he finds himself reveling in the scene before him, eyes following the lines of their bodies and tracing patterns between them, before tucking himself into his own separate chair. He vaguely wonders if this has always been his chair, and his body remembered even if his mind hasn’t quite caught up yet.

“You’re magic,” Jungkook says, voice muffled from where he’s tucked the blanket up just under his nose. He curls in toward the rest of the room as the conversations slowly die out around him, everyone’s eyes now turned only to him.

“We are magic, yes,” Jimin agrees, a light giggle coloring his words as he looks back at Jungkook fondly. His head is tucked neatly underneath Yoongi’s chin where they lay together on the couch.

“I thought you already knew that,” Jin says, head tilting cutely as if trying to remember if the conversation was before or after the time that Jungkook remembers.

“No, I know,” Jungkook says, shaking his head and scrambling to find the words that he really wants to ask. “You’re different magic.”

“In what way?” Namjoon asks. “Different from what?”

“Different from each other,” Jungkook replies, gesturing vaguely between them. “I mean, to be fair I don’t really know what any of you do,” he shrugs his shoulders a little sheepishly. “I just know that this place is magic and sometimes you do things that I can’t quite explain.” He looks between them all a little pointedly. “But all of your magic is different.”

“Well, we aren’t the same person,” Taehyung chides teasingly, stretching languidly against the armrest of the couch.

“You know what I mean,” Jungkook huffs, rolling his eyes as he burrows further into the blanket, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. He wishes desperately that he was brave enough to join them. Wishes that he didn’t have to think so hard about what it would be like to just reach out, for once and ask for what he wants. 

He swallows back the longing and it tastes bitter against the back of his throat, but familiar. Like he’s been holding that regret for much longer than just a few weeks. Jungkook supposes that he probably has been.

“Yes, our magic is different,” Yoongi finally replies, lifting a leg to kick Taehyung playfully in the hip, nudging him just slightly along the couch so his body is now flush against Hoseok’s. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything?” Jungkook asks, a pleased smile spreading across his face when the others laugh warmly at him.

“You go first,” Jin says, tapping a light finger on Namjoon’s knee, and Namjoon shifts his leg up as if hoping to prolong the contact.

“It’s not that interesting,” Namjoon says, eyes finding Jungkook’s easily across the room.

“I disagree,” Jungkook replies, shaking his head earnestly. “I find everything about you to be interesting.” 

He grins, pleased when Namjoon sputters in response and Hoseok collapses on the other end of the couch, cackles echoing throughout the tiny room. Taehyung shoots him a wink as if to say well done , and Jungkook ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Well,” Namjoon says, clearing his throat a little. “You can probably take a guess as to what my magic pertains to.” He grins at him, dimples so deep that Jungkook has to shake his head to focus on Namjoon’s words.

“Plants?” he asks, a little hesitant after he realizes there’s been a long pause waiting for his answer. 

“Plants,” Namjoon confirms with a nod. “They talk to me sometimes,” he shrugs. “They tell me what they need and how to care for them.”

“Like the forest?” Jungkook asks, eyes growing wide.

“Well, the forest talks to everyone,” Namjoon amends, shaking his head. “She’s extremely chatty when given the opportunity.”

Jungkook squints his eyes, about to bring up the fact that she has yet to speak to him just yet, but Namjoon continues on before he can.

“My plants can be a little testy sometimes,” pausing when Jin lets out a snort next to him. “Bratty, I guess,” Namjoon amends, rolling his eyes. “But some of them are so purely good .”

“The wisteria,” Jungkook whispers, eyes flitting up to where some sprigs are still hanging from the rafters.

“The wisteria doesn’t speak so much as it sings,” Namjoon nods, gazing up at the bundles of flowers and Jungkook swears he sees stars shining in his eyes. “They hum so beautifully all the time.”

“Is that why you like to have them close?” Jungkook whispers, tilting his ear up to the ceiling as if he too could hear their song.

“Yes,” Namjoon nods, eyes settling back on him, and Jungkook can’t help but notice that the stars haven’t left his eyes as they gaze back at one another. “It gives me something to focus on,” he says softly. “Helps me tune out all the bad.”

Jungkook lets the words sit there between them for a moment, before he turns to Taehyung.

“And your magic has to do with stars, right?” he asks.

“Mostly,” Taehyung sighs in response. “Basically anything to do with the cosmos.”

“Will I ever be able to see your star room?” he asks hopefully, sitting up eagerly in his seat.

“I don’t see why not,” Taehyung shrugs. “As long as I’m there with you, you’ll be fine.”

“During the day though, Taehyung-ah,” Jin says, raising an eyebrow pointedly. “Just to be safe.”

“During the day, hyung,” Taehyung confirms, nodding his head dutifully and throwing another wink in Jungkook’s direction. “We’ll find a time for you to look around the room. It’s probably easiest when I’ve harvested what I can from them for the shop.” He pats a hand on the top of Hoseok’s thigh almost absentmindedly. “They’re always at their most docile then.”

Jungkook feels the anticipation growing in his gut at the mere thought of seeing the starry room.

“Do you harvest moon dust in that room as well?” he asks, trying to make his tone casual but failing spectacularly.

“No,” Taehyung says, tilting his head at Jungkook. “The moon is a special case.”

Jungkook can tell by the lilt of his voice that he’s not willing to divulge much further, so he swallows down the rest of his questions for now, filing them away for a later date.

“This game is fun,” Hoseok says, wiggling a little in his seat and clapping his hands together. “See if you can guess my magic next.”

Jungkook shrinks down a little in his seat, trying to think back. The only thing related to magic he’s seen Hoseok do is cook things in the kitchen. The first time he went to the house, or at least the first time he remembers being there, Hoseok had him bring healing draughts to Jin’s store.

“Something with healing?” Jungkook says, each world tilted up in a question. “Potions?” he asks, another shot in the dark as Hoseok’s smile widens.

“You’re very perceptive, Jungkook-ah,” he says, nodding proudly, and Jungkook wonders if they actually believe he’s guessing or if they assume he’s remembering things from a past life. “I do a lot of potion making, but it’s not all healing. Sometimes it’s just fun things that customers might want.”

“Fun things can be healing in their own way,” Jungkook says quietly, watching as Hoseok’s face softens at the words.

“Yes,” he nods. “I think so, too.”

Jungkook tilts his head to Jimin now, who just smiles back at him a little teasingly.

“Sorry, Jimin-hyung,” Jungkook ducks his head apologetically. “I don’t think I can come up with anything, really.” He shrugs. “Namjoon-hyung said that the plants like you, but I don’t really know what that means.”

Jimin casts a fond glance toward Namjoon before posing his question to Jungkook.

“Why do you think they like me so much?” he asks, trying to coax an answer out of him, but Jungkook mostly just comes up blank.

“I think it’d be pretty hard not to like you,” Jungkook whispers and then blushes at the way Jimin stutters in response, soldiering on before he has to address the comment any further. “Is your magic also related to plants?”

“Kind of, although it’s a bit more broad than that,” Jimin nods, clearing his throat a little, seemingly still reeling. “It deals with all of the elements,” he untangles his hand from Yoongi’s to reach up to tap at the side of Namjoon’s leg. “I’m good with plants because I’m good with the earth.”

“And water,” Namjoon chimes in. “It’s how he can sit in my plant room with the sprinklers and never get wet,” Namjoon chuckles, leaning forward toward Jungkook as if he’s telling him a secret. “He just directs all of the water droplets around him and into the potted plants’ soil.” He leans back, settling into the cushions as he continues to gush. “I don’t even need a drainage system in there because Jimin-ah has yet to let a stray drop hit the floor.”

“Fire, too?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide as he stares back at Jimin, a little in awe.

“All of them, yes,” Jimin laughs a little. “Air comes in handy with Taehyung’s work a lot.”

Jungkook then looks to Yoongi, with a bit of a clearer idea in mind about what he does. He’s felt the effects of it first hand, eyes trailing over his fingers where they lay softly against Jimin’s waist.

“Moods?” Jungkook asks, dragging his eyes up to meet Yoongi’s gaze. “Hoseok-hyung said you were a good mediator and,” he shrugs a little, looking away and back down at his fingers, which are now running along the outer seam of his jeans. “I could feel it.”

“Moods are a part of it, yes,” Yoongi nods, rolling his lips between his teeth as he drags himself and Jimin into more of a sitting position. He tilts his head back against the couch as if choosing his next words very carefully.

“And before,” Jungkook says, finally recalling something from before he even met Yoongi. “Jimin said that you were the cause of that warm feeling.”

“Warm feeling?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head back down to squint across the room at Jungkook.

“Yeah,” he nods, swallowing thickly. “Every time I come here, or to the shop, I can feel it. I don’t really know how else to describe it.” He shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “And when you found me at the train stop, I knew it was you because I felt it coming off of you.” He tugs his sleeves over his fingers, bunching the ends of the fabric up in his palms. “Warmth.”

Yoongi stares at him, mouth opening and closing wordlessly for a few moments.

“Protection,” Yoongi croaks out after a beat, still staring at Jungkook as if he’s made of something special. “I deal with protective spells.” He straightens up a little, crossing one leg delicately over the other before he continues on. “The mediating and the relaxation you felt when I was tapping my fingers is somewhat related,” he says, tapping against the bone of his knee as if to demonstrate. “I like to protect the people close to me, and if they’re in distress, they’re not being protected. So I started playing with emotions.” He rolls his lips between his teeth. “Nothing too crazy. Nothing that would actually alter you or anything, just enough to stay calm.”

Jungkook nods his head a little knowingly. It makes sense, whatever Yoongi has done to the shop and the house, and even maybe the forest, that feeling let him know that he was safe. It wasn’t a facade either. Jungkook knows he’s okay here. He finds himself desperately wanting to feel that calming again. He imagines a time when he might have been brave enough to interlock fingers with Yoongi, just to feel the calming waves coming directly off of his own fingertips.

He shakes his head of the errant thoughts before turning finally to Jin, the last one whose magic he hasn’t guessed yet. His mouth hangs open a little uselessly as he stares back at him.

“Huh,” he hums, tilting his head a little to the side as he surveys Jin. He’s never really seen him do magic since he’s been here, but something about him just feels powerful. He thinks it’s to do with the way he stands and how he carries himself. Jungkook thinks it’s the best argument for proving magic exists, just a single glance at Jin would be all it took.

“Oh, come on, hyung,” Jimin says. “Have pity on him.” He nudges Jin in the ribs with his foot before turning to Jungkook. “You’re never going to guess it and I don’t blame you,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s sort of a trick question.”

“Trick question?” Jungkook asks, peering between them.

“I guess you could say I dabble in a lot of things,” Jin says simply, not letting it drag on for too long. “My magic keeps the house and the shop running,” he heaves a sigh, as if trying to figure out the best way to explain it. “I don’t have one particular arena of magic I play in,” he shrugs, gesturing vaguely. “I just sort of do what’s needed.”

“Dabble is a very small word for what it is that you do,” Yoongi says, not turning to look at Jin.

“You flatter me,” Jin replies, batting his eyelashes back at him playfully, grinning broadly at the amused huff that Yoongi lets out.

“Okay, that’s enough questions for tonight,” Namjoon says, clapping his hands against the tops of his thighs and he moves to stand up. “It’s getting late.”

Jungkook quickly falls into a routine at the house, waking up to the sound of Hoseok and Jin in the kitchen, family meals and helping around the house. He’s happy. Happier than he’s ever been, probably, but Jungkook can’t seem to shake the nagging frustration at the way he still can’t seem to remember them.

He watches the way they move around each other, so familiarly and so in tune, and the way they move around him, cautious, as if one misstep could ruin it all. 

Every time he speaks with them, it's like there’s something tugging at the back of his brain, a memory that he just can’t shake loose.

It’s only been a few days since his failed attempt to catch the train, but it’s long enough for Jungkook’s frustration to finally reach its boiling point.

“Why won’t you tell me what I’m missing?” he blurts out. The question is louder than he intended, angrier even, and he would almost regret it if he wasn’t so frustrated with the whole situation. “Why won’t you tell me anything at all?”

They’re gathered around the kitchen table for their family dinner, and even the word family makes Jungkook’s insides ache.

“It’s not like that, Jungkook-ah,” Jin says. He looks smaller than Jungkook has ever seen him, shoulders rounded and head tucked in as if he could shield himself from the hurt radiating off of Jungkook. “I want to tell you,” he huffs out a breath, scrubbing a rough hand through the roots of his hair until it clumps together. “We all do.”

“I just don’t understand,” Jungkook says, pleading as he looks between them, trying to let the anger seep out of him. He’s not actually angry at them, he doesn’t want them to be upset and seeing the hurt on their faces does little to soothe his own hurt, just exacerbates it.

“You all know me,” he says, not really sure how to proceed. “You know things about me that maybe I don’t even know myself, and yet I know next to nothing about you.” He lets his head fall into his hands, sliding down to hunch over the table top. “It’s not fair.”

“No, it isn’t fair,” Namjoon says, placatingly, and Jungkook thinks he can feel the hands hovering over his back, attempting to comfort but too afraid to breach the distance. “We’ve missed you,” he says simply. “I can’t speak for everyone else but,” he huffs out a self-deprecating laugh. “I think I’m afraid that telling you, helping you remember, might make you disappear again.”

Jungkook lifts his head up, blinking over at Namjoon a little confused.

“This is new for all of us, Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok says, and Jungkook hears the harsh grating of the chair legs against the wooden floor and fights back a flinch at the sound. “None of us know how to navigate something like this, we were all just taking cues from you.”

“When you first came into the shop that day,” Jin starts, “I had no clue what was happening.” His voice is so quiet and broken that Jungkook hunches in even further on himself, scolding himself for ever making such a lively man sound like that. “The forest sounded more peaceful that day, more peaceful than I’ve heard her in a while.” Jin shrugs a little sheepishly. “Well, since you, I suppose.” Jungkook categorizes that specific sentiment in his brain as something he needs to come back to later. “So I should have expected there would be something different that day, but I never expected you to walk through that door again,” he huffs, voice getting a little darker. “And I never in a million years expected that you would forget me.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Jungkook says quickly, finally sitting up straighter. “Or at least I hope it wasn’t.”

“We know that, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin says quietly. “We just don’t know what happened.”

“And we can’t risk losing you again,” Taehyung adds on.

“Is it really that bad,” Jungkook bites out, finally putting voice to his fears. “You guys seem to be doing just fine for yourselves without me around, I can’t have added too much to your lives.”

“You have no idea,” Yoongi says gravely, and Jungkook flits his eyes down just in time to see Yoongi’s fingers clench against his thighs, the scraping of his fingernails against the material is harsh in the quietness of the room. “You have no idea how much you add to our lives.”

Jungkook colors, an apology, or maybe a thank you, on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them both down, unable to come up with the words to respond to such a statement.

“The forest,” Jungkook says instead, still trying to fight off the blush on his cheeks. “You keep talking about her, but I don’t know what any of it means.”

“She’s how we knew to trust you all those months ago,” Taehyung says simply, shrugging his shoulders and tilting his head as if trying to find the right way to explain it. “She’s always liked you.”

“She definitely doesn’t like us as much as she likes you, that’s for sure,” Namjoon chuckles, leaning so far back in his chair that it creaks worryingly, and Hoseok has to reach out a steadying hand to make sure it doesn’t topple over.

“But, why?” Jungkook asks. He feels even more lost than before. There’s so many questions pinging around inside of his head, but he’s not sure that he’s asking the right ones, or even how they all relate to each other. “Why would she like me more than you when I don’t even live here?”

“Because you belong here, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi whispers. “Can’t you feel it?”

“But I can’t feel her the way that you do,” Jungkook says, shaking his head a little dejectedly as he looks across the room to the window above the sink, tree branches just barely tapping against the glass pane. “I can’t tell when she’s calm or what she’s feeling.” His shoulders sag with the weight of his words. “It’s just like any other forest.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Jin says, but it’s the most light-hearted thing he’s said in a while, his mouth pulled into the remnants of a smile. “She likes to think she’s special.”

“Besides,” Yoongi says, leaning forward to catch Jungkook’s eye. “I’m pretty sure you do feel her.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook says, hands immediately going to cradle his stomach, arms crossed over one another as if to protect himself from the line of questioning.

“Do you still feel that tugging?” Yoongi asks, fingers reaching out gently to tap against Jungkook’s knuckles where they lay clenched against his stomach. “I’ve seen you rub here sometimes,” he says softly. “You feel it, don’t you?”

Jungkook swallows thickly, reaching out a finger to slightly brush against the outside of Yoongi’s pinky before turning his gaze back up to the window. He skates his eyes along the leaves as they sway gently in the breeze, fluttering and changing shape, playing between the dapples of sunlight.

“That’s her?” Jungkook asks, and it all starts to make sense, in fact, he feels a bit foolish for not realizing it sooner.

“She’s brought you to us before,” Jimin says, shrugging. “It makes sense that she’d bring you back to us.”

“We’ve been on bad terms recently,” Taehyung admits, a sheepish look overcoming his face.

“Why?” Jungkook asks, turning away from the window to focus on him.

“Well,” he shrugs, hands coming up to rub at the outsides of his own arms, face colored in embarrassment. “I guess we blamed her a little.”

“Blamed her?” Jungkook asks, even though he’s almost positive he knows the answer. But he’s greedy. He wants to hear the words come out of their mouths. Wants to revel in that feeling of being wanted, of being longed for. The same way he’s felt towards them, with no explanation.

“For you leaving us,” Jimin says quietly.

The forest rustles loudly outside, but Jungkook can’t bring himself to look over to the window again, eyes darting between all of the men around the table, wondering how he could have ever forgotten them.

“Was it her fault?” Jungkook asks, ignoring the insistent tapping of the branches against the glass.

“We don’t know,” Namjoon says, glancing calmly over to the window. “But I’m starting to think it wasn’t.”

“Will I ever remember?” Jungkook asks before he loses his nerve.

“I sure hope so,” Hoseok says, letting out a long breath.

“And I suppose none of you will help me remember,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes a little playfully.

“We’ll try to answer your questions as best we can,” Hoseok chuckles.

“But I think maybe telling you your own memories isn’t the way to go,” Jin shrugs. “At least that’s what we decided when you walked back into our lives.”

“What if you don’t like this version of me as much,” Jungkook asks, trying to keep his voice light, but insecurities filter in anyways, shoulders rising toward his ears as if to protect him from the blow. “What if I’m not the same person you knew before.”

“Then we’ll get to know this version of you,” Yoongi shrugs like it’s the simplest answer. “Loving you has never been a chore.”

Jungkook feels his brain short circuit at the words, tilting a little on his axis, but the others don't seem to notice, as they clean up their dishes and slowly filter out of the room.

Jungkook mourns for what feels like hours, but is probably just a few minutes. He mourns a version of himself that felt love and was loved. He mourns the version of himself that didn’t know that love. And most of all, he fears that it could happen again. That he could get lost again.

He’s never felt afraid of his own mind before, of the ways in which it could trick him, and a small part of him thinks that all of this is a deception too. A dream world he’s created in his own head to escape from the monotony of his life. To escape from his own loneliness. 

He fights back that feeling and tries to focus on the sounds of the others in the room next door. The warm sounds of their murmured conversations and the rustling of the blankets as they get tucked into each other's sides.

Jungkook stays seated at the table, head light and airy until he gets enough courage to look back up at the forest through the window.

“Thank you,” he mutters out quietly. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

He imagines that the brush of the leaves against the window spell out the words: You’re welcome.

Chapter Text

It’s been several weeks since the train disappeared, maybe a month, it’s hard for Jungkook to tell. Each day sort of blends into the next, moving so fluidly that it feels like no time has passed at all. He’s trying to be kinder to himself. Trying to forgive himself for what he lost, and focusing instead on trying to weave his life back into the fabric of these six other boys, tucked away in a warm forest that shouldn’t exist.

“How can I help?” he asks, rolling his head to glance briefly at the planes of Namjoon’s back as he bends down to pull out some errant weeds at the root. Jungkook’s lying down in the grass, feet propped up on the fence as he trails his fingers lightly across the ground, tracing some unknown pattern.

“You don’t need to help, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon says, snipping off the leaves of a bush that Jungkook can’t quite identify. He’s not sure he’s ever seen it before, almost too vibrant to exist in this realm. “I’ve got enough hands to cover this, I think,” he adds with a chuckle, dimples poking out tauntingly.

“I mean, in general,” Jungkook clarifies, careful not to let his gaze fall into the soft smile lines around Namjoon’s lips.

“In general?” Namjoon asks, finally turning around to look at Jungkook on the ground, holding a hand up to cast a shadow over his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook exhales, squirming against the grass under his scrutiny. “You all have things you do, around the house, or for the shop,” he sniffs, unsure of what exactly he’s asking for. “I know I’ve been sort of shadowing you guys, offering a hand when I can.” He shrugs as much as he can while lying down, shoulder blades dragging slowly across the earth, catching against roots. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Namjoon says and Jungkook sits up, leaning back on the palms of his hands and training his eyes on the toes of his own boots.

“Maybe not,” he replies, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “It might make me feel better though.”

“Do you…” Namjoon clears his throat, placing his shears off to the foot of one of the garden beds. “Do you not feel good?” There’s an edge of worry seeping into the lines of his face that Jungkook waves off immediately.

“I’m fine, Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook huffs. “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that I’d like to feel like I have a place here.”

“You do have a place here,” Namjoon says. His tone is soft but stern, almost like he’s angry at the insinuation that Jungkook doesn’t belong.

“Sorry,” Jungkook says, shaking his head a little to clear his thoughts. “I’m not explaining this correctly. A purpose then?” Jungkook asks as if it’s a question. “I want to feel like I have a purpose here,” he clears his throat a little, eyes flitting up toward the branches hanging overhead. “A purpose that isn’t just being next to you.”

Jungkook sees Namjoon’s shoulders sag out of the corner of his eye.

“I guess I understand that,” he nods, chewing on the inside of his lower lip. “Is there something you have in mind?” he asks, tentatively. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, exhaling and letting the air whistle through his front teeth. “Did I do anything before?” The words are hopeful as he stretches his legs out in front of himself, pointing his toes in anticipation.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon says teasingly, eyebrows lifted just slightly. “Did you?”

“You’re no fun,” Jungkook pouts, flopping back down against the soft earth. He reaches a hand out to pet the grass, whispering a quiet apology to the forest in case he hurt her with the abrupt action.

“We can talk to the others tonight when they get home,” Namjoon assures, turning back to his plants. “But it’s okay to just be for a while, you know?”

“Be?” Jungkook echoes.

“Yeah,” Namjoon shrugs. “You’re used to working constantly, aren’t you?” he asks. “In your world?”

“Oh,” Jungkook says. “I guess I never really thought of it as my world versus your world.” He directs his gaze up at the sky, tracing the way the leaves cross over each other. “But you all have something you do here, so why shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, but…” Namjoon breathes out slowly as if calculating the sentences in his head. “It’s not work, it’s just… a part of us.”

“I don’t have anything that’s a part of me though,” Jungkook retorts a little uselessly. “I’m not magic like all of you.”

“I think you have a very narrow idea of what magic is,” Namjoon mumbles, almost scolding as he rolls his shoulders back to relieve some of the tension. “Look, all I’m saying is that there’s nothing wrong with taking time,” he sighs. “This is all a lot to take in.” He laughs a little, but it seems lacking in humor. “Any rational person would need to take a bit to digest.”

“I guess so,” Jungkook grumbles. He’s not fully convinced, but he’s also not interested in debating it further. He rolls over onto his side, pillowing his head in the crook of his own elbow to look up at Namjoon, his body silhouetted by the late afternoon sun.

“Do you take care of the sunflowers, Namjoon-hyung?” he asks, changing the subject.

“The sunflowers?” Namjoon asks, eyebrows furrowing as he continues to prune the bushes. “Why? Do you think that’s something you’d want to do?”

“No, no,” Jungkook says, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I don’t think I’d be very good with plants, I was just wondering.”

“No, I don’t take care of them,” Namjoon muses, tilting his head to the side a little. “They always seem pretty keen on keeping to themselves,” he says, straightening his back and groaning a little as a series of pops run down his spine. “And if I’m honest I always get a little uneasy leaving the forest,” he grimaces.

“You do?” Jungkook asks, scrunching his knees up further toward his chest and curling into himself more.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, finally putting his shears away and sitting on the ground in front of Jungkook. “I can’t really explain it,” he shrugs, eyes looking toward the clearing in the trees. “It just feels empty.”

“Empty,” Jungkook echoes back. It’s not as much of a question as it is a way to feel the word on his own tongue, bouncing against the insides of his own teeth.

“It just feels like there’s something missing when I’m out there,” he replies. “Like a piece of me is missing.” He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head a little. “It’s not that serious, maybe,” he shrugs. “I just prefer staying here, is all.”

Jungkook hums in response, mulling over the words as Namjoon gathers his things, stepping over Jungkook to pass through the garden gates.

“I think I understand,” he whispers, just before Namjoon reaches the front door. He thinks the words are too quiet for Namjoon to hear, but he pauses for a moment before turning back around to meet Jungkook’s eye.

“Understand what?” he asks.

“The emptiness,” Jungkook repeats, rolling over and pulling himself to his feet. “I usually just call it loneliness though.”

“Do you feel lonely, Jungkook-ah?” Namjoon questions, voice quiet as he pushes the door open for Jungkook to step over the threshold.

“Not so much anymore.”

He pretends he doesn’t see the smile that blooms across Namjoon’s face as he ducks his head, tucking his chin against his chest.

“I’m going to bring these to the shop,” Namjoon says, clearing his throat and gesturing to the basket of flowers he has tucked against his hip. He gently places his hand on the small of Jungkook’s back to guide him into the kitchen area where Hoseok is stirring a large pot on the stove.

“Let Jungkook-ah help you,” Namjoon announces, tilting his head when Hoseok turns around from the stove.

“Of course!” Hoseok grins, gesturing for Jungkook to come up to the counter and take a spot next to him. Namjoon follows, removing his hand from Jungkook’s back to drag his fingers through the ends of Hoseok’s hair and cup the back of his neck. He squeezes Hoseok’s nape just slightly, and Jungkook pretends like he doesn’t still feel the imprint of Namjoon’s fingertips, where they were pressed against him just moments ago.

“I’ll be back later,” Namjoon says finally, stepping away and heading towards the door. “Be good!” he calls over his shoulder, and Jungkook sputters, coughing as the air enters too quickly into his lungs.

Hoseok smiles knowingly at him, eyebrows wiggling, before he gestures to a bowl of what looks like various herbs.

“You can cut those up for me,” he directs, placing a small knife on the cutting board in front of Jungkook as he continues to stir the boiling liquid in front of him.

“What are you making?” Jungkook asks, gingerly plucking one of the sprigs out of the bowl and sniffing it cautiously.

Hoseok laughs at him, patting his forearm soothingly.

“Don’t worry, it’s just rosemary.” He giggles as Jungkook gets to work chopping off the small leaves. “I’m making something to restore brain health.”

Jungkook tilts his head, glancing sideways at Hoseok.

“Memories?” he asks, voice quiet but a little hopeful as he swipes his knife through the leaves in front of him, gathering a pile in the corner of the cutting board.

“Maybe,” Hoseok nods, fingers tapping nervously on the wooden spoon in his hand. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up,” he shrugs. “I can’t restore them,” he clarifies, shifting from foot to foot. “Memories aren’t something that should be tampered with,” he says. “It can be dangerous.”

“So this is just, what, like a supplement?” Jungkook asks, keeping his eyes trained on the sprigs of rosemary.

“A supplement, yeah,” Hoseok agrees. “That’s a good way of putting it.” He reaches to lower the burner to something more like a simmer, waiting until the bubbles quiet down before continuing. “I just thought it might be of some help,” he smiles a little sadly. “But I could be wrong.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says, because that’s all that he can really say, stretching his pinky out to drag along the inside of Hoseok’s wrist where it lies against the countertop. He looks up hoping to catch Hoseok’s smile brighten just a little, but instead his eyes snag on a glint of silver dangling from Hoseok’s neck.

He falters a moment, knife pausing in mid air and rapidly blinking as if trying to clear his own vision.

“What is that?” he asks, slowly placing the knife down and moving forward toward Hoseok as if in a trance.

“What is what?” Hoseok asks, leaning forward slightly as Jungkook gets impossibly close to him, as if tugged in by his presence alone.

“Around your neck,” he whispers, reaching a hand out and tapping lightly at his collarbone. Hoseok breathes out slowly, reaching his hand up to grab at Jungkook’s fingers and pull them away from his skin.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Hoseok says and he fights the urge to roll his eyes, he’s been hearing that a lot lately.

“Can I see it?” he asks, eyes still trained on the silver chain, the pendant now hidden beneath the collar of his shirt.

He watches as Hoseok swallows harshly, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down almost violently, but he obliges after just a few moments. His hand is still clasped around Jungkook’s fingers while the other tugs on the chain until it slips out of his shirt, and there, looped through the simple chain and laying limply against Hoseok's sternum, is a ring. A ring almost identical to the one that’s wrapped around Jungkook’s finger.

He vaguely thinks he can feel his own ring getting warmer beneath the press of Hoseok’s skin, but he brushes the feeling off. It’s probably just in his head. He darts his eyes up to catch Hoseok’s gaze just briefly before settling his eyes back on his chest.

“Are you the only one who has it?” Jungkook asks, voice gravely as if the words had to claw their way out of his vocal cords.

“No,” Hoseok whispers. “We’ve all got them.” His tone of voice is trying for nonchalant, but failing miserably. Jungkook feels him adjust his hand, dragging his fingertips lightly over the ring on Jungkook’s finger.

“Did I get this ring last time?” Jungkook asks, trying to keep his voice steady as his fingers spread against his own volition, trying on instinct to feel as much of Hoseok’s skin as he can.

“Last time?” Hoseok asks, eyebrows tugging together cutely in confusion.

“Before,” Jungkook says, shaking his head to try to order his words correctly. “The time that I can’t remember. Did the shop give me a ring?”

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head. “This was the first time.”

“Did you hide it from me on purpose,” Jungkook asks, voice unconsciously rising an octave with each word.

“No!” Hoseok rushes to assure him. “Not at first anyway,” he says a little guiltily. Jungkook eyes him suspiciously.

“We all wear them around our necks,” he explains. “It just sort of became a habit over the years because we were afraid of losing them.” He exhales slowly, eyes pointed upwards as if thinking for the proper explanation. “And I guess because it feels better that way.”

“It feels better?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Having it closer to our hearts,” he shrugs, almost shy with the way he keeps his shoulders tucked up defensively. “It feels warmer there than on our hands.”

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, resisting the urge to press his own hand over his heart, to feel the ring in its rightful place.

“But you didn’t tell me about it,” Jungkook accuses after a moment, unable to keep the whine out of his voice. “They’re almost identical, you’d think that would be important information.”

“We should have said something, I know,” Hoseok agrees. “It’s not because we didn’t want you to know, but because we didn’t know what it meant.”

“Do you now?” Jungkook asks, almost frantically. “Do you know what it means now?”

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head, sadly. “We can make a guess though.”

Jungkook swallows, not quite brave enough to ask what their guess is. He finally steps away from Hoseok, pulling his fingers out of his grip and tearing his eyes away from the ring around his neck.

“Can I see the other rings?” he asks, as he slowly steps back to the cutting board to resume chopping.

“Their rings all look basically the same,” Hoseok says gently, but he nods his head regardless, linking his pinky with Jungkook’s briefly before turning the burner back up.

The sun is just barely setting when the others start to trickle in, the low hanging sun turning the branches outside into a shimmery kind of gold.

“He wants to see our rings,” Hoseok announces, stopping them all in their tracks as they deposit their belongings next to the doorframe, hardly giving them a moment to step inside the house.

Jungkook’s standing just behind Hoseok, peeking around his shoulder, eyes trailing over the others’ collarbones and searching for that glint of silver.

“Our rings?” Namjoon asks, trailing his eyes over Jungkook’s face. His voice seems to break the spell of silence on them all, postures relaxing somewhat.

“Let’s move to the living room,” Hoseok says, stepping out from in front of Jungkook and leading the way across the hall.

“Are you okay?” Jimin finally asks, once they’ve all settled into the cushions, eyeing Jungkook a little worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook whispers, trying to relax himself as he looks around the room at them. They’re in their usual spots, Jungkook in the large chair by the doorway, and everyone else on the other side of the room, connected like one long meandering thread. “I’d just like to see the rings, please.”

“Of course,” Taehyung replies, getting to his feet, but he doesn’t pull out his own necklace first. He turns to Jin at his side, dragging his fingers along the chain around his neck and pulling up until the ring swings out, bouncing against Jin’s chest. It makes a small tinkling sound where it thumps against the bone there.

The others laugh quietly as Taehyung moves to the next person, one by one dragging the necklace out from beneath their collars and dropping the ring so it hangs against their sternums, before finally pulling out his own necklace.

“They’re not perfectly identical,” Taehyung says, watching Jungkook carefully. “There’s some minor discrepancies, but they’re close enough.” 

He leans over Jungkook where he’s still seated, letting his own necklace dangle in front of his face. Jungkook watches, almost hypnotized as it sways back and forth, gently reaching a finger out to catch it in midair and lay it gently against his own palm.

“How did you all get them?” Jungkook asks softly once Taehyung finally straightens up, pulling out of Jungkook’s space. He goes back to sit on the couch with the others and Jungkook curls his fingers against his own thighs to try to stop himself from joining them. They’re not that far away, if Jungkook leaned over the arm of the chair and reached out, he’d probably be able to brush his fingers against Yoongi’s elbow, but he still feels the space between them like a chasm.

“We got them from the shop,” Jin says, speaking up for the first time since they got home.

“What do you mean you got them from the shop?” Jungkook asks. “Don’t you supply the shop? I thought you owned it.”

“Absolutely not,” he laughs lightly, reaching a hand up to tap thoughtfully against the ring at his chest. “She owns me, maybe.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how long she’s been sitting out here, I just felt her one day and knew where to go.” He shrugs as if it’s a completely normal thing to admit. “I’m no different from the other customers in that regard, I suppose.” He shifts so he’s leaning more firmly against Taehyung’s side. “Except that I didn’t just need one thing from the shop,” he says. “I needed the shop itself.”

“Greedy hyung,” Jungkook can’t help but tease, relaxing against the back cushion when the others laugh along.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but it probably felt like your first time in the shop,” Jin says, not clarifying which ‘first time’ he’s talking about. “One day, I didn’t know what I was doing with my life, and the next I was here, running this dormant shop.” He huffs a little. “The details are still a bit hazy, if I’m honest.”

“And she gave you the ring?” Jungkook asks, clasping his hands together in front of him, shielding his own from view as if protecting it from the conversation.

“On my first visit, yeah,” Jin nods.

“And the rest of you?” Jungkook asks, tucking himself further into the cushions.

“We all showed up to the shop at different times over the years,” Namjoon muses. “Not really on purpose, just sort of wandering.”

“And yes,” Jimin answers, leaning forward just slightly. “She gave us the rings on our first visit.”

“But it wasn’t my first visit,” Jungkook points out.

“No,” Yoongi says, nodding his head and tapping a finger rhythmically against the corner of his mouth. “It wasn’t.”

“You said the customers come to the shop because it has something of theirs,” Jungkook says, turning to Jin. “So we all just came to the shop for the rings?”

“Well, the other customers leave after they get what they need,” Jin says. “But I haven’t been able to shake off any of these fools.” His grin widens as the others jostle him on the couch, complaining loudly.

“So why did you all stay?” Jungkook asks, after all their protests have died down.

“I suppose we were all looking for the same thing,” Yoongi says. “A home.”

It feels like the whole room is holding its breath, even the house feels stiller than usual, waiting for Jungkook to ask. Why did the shop give me a matching ring? Why did I get brought back here? But he holds his tongue, heaving a deep sigh. He’s not sure he’s ready for the answer yet, but he feels the guilt like an ache behind his ribs when he sees the others deflate from his silence.

“Thank you for showing me,” Jungkook says. “It’s okay that I keep this right?” he asks a little helplessly, holding his hand up in front of his face and twisting it slightly so the shine of it catches on the dim lamp next to his chair.

“Of course,” Jin says. “The shop gave it to you, so it’s yours.” Jungkook nods slowly, limply dropping his hand to his lap.

“And we want you to have it,” Yoongi chimes in, fingers no longer tapping against his mouth. “Like I said, it suits you.” Jungkook blushes but nods again, more enthusiastically this time, curling his hand into a fist to feel the strain of the metal as it bites into his flesh.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

They all start to get up, detangling their limbs from each other and making their way to the kitchen for dinner before Jungkook calls after them.

“Oh, one more thing.” They pause, peering back around the door frame at Jungkook. “Do you all have the moon dust as well then?” he asks, barely meeting their eyes as he moves to stand and follow them to the kitchen.

“No,” Taehyung laughs out, shaking his head slightly as they continue as a group this time to the kitchen. “That’s a new one on me.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, taking his seat at the kitchen table. He can’t help but feel the slightest bit of relief at the answer. Finally something that he’s not completely out of the loop on.

As they settle in for dinner, Jungkook can’t help but watch the way Jin drags a comforting hand along the napes of each of their necks as he places down their food, fingers reaching for what little skin is available to him. He tries to tamp down his own disappointment when Jin leaves a plate in front of him, but dutifully keeps his hands to himself. Jungkook looks up, a little bereft, feeling the absence of his fingers against his skin so acutely, but Jin is already seated at the table.

It’s something Jungkook has noticed in passing, the way they all act around each other. They move as if in perfect harmony. It’s a practiced dance at this point, one that obviously took years of intimacy and patience to perfect, and Jungkook can’t help but feel like he’s intruding on something he shouldn’t be. He feels the longing in the pit of his stomach, heavy and insistent, but sometimes, just sometimes, he sees glimpses of that same familiarity directed at himself. 

“Are you all together?” Jungkook blurts out, fingernails scraping along the edge of the table as he watches them all slowly look up from their plates. 

“Is that a problem?” Jimin asks, the first to break the silence. He sounds cautious, if not a little protective, as if he’s ready to shield the others if needed, even if it’s from Jungkook. He expects to feel a pang of hurt, but it only serves to make him feel more comfortable. The way Jimin sits now, shoulders squared and gaze careful, Jungkook knows he would do anything to protect his family and the ones he loves. Jungkook only hopes that one day he could be included in that category. Sometimes, he thinks he already is.

“It’s not a problem,” Jungkook rushes to assure them, straightening up in his seat as he sees them all relax slightly, postures not quite as stiff as they once were. “I just wasn’t sure,” Jungkook shrugs, smiling a little sheepishly.

“We haven’t exactly been trying to hide it,” Jimin says.

“But maybe it’s been a little more…” Hoseok scrunches his nose, “A little more subdued than usual.”

“I thought maybe it was just Jimin and Taehyung,” he starts, darting his eyes over to the pair, “and then I thought maybe Jin and Hoseok,” he taps his fingers along the edge of his plate to ground himself. “But it’s all of you.”

“Yes,” Namjoon nods slowly. “It’s all of us.” He glances around at the others quickly and Jungkook can’t help but wonder if he was ever a part of that. If that’s some of what they’re not telling him. “Is that okay?”

“Why would it matter what I think?” Jungkook asks a little self-deprecatingly. 

“It matters,” Yoongi says quietly, ghosting his fingertips over the tendons still straining against the back of Jungkook’s hand.

“Of course it’s okay,” he huffs, turning his attention to his food. “You’re the happiest people I’ve ever met, and if that’s what it takes to make you happy,” he shrugs. “Then I’d say you’ve figured out something that the rest of the world hasn’t.”

“Are you not happy?” Jimin asks, ignoring his ramblings and leaning forward to catch Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook rolls his lips between his teeth, pondering for a moment.

“I think I wasn’t for a while,” he answers quietly.

“And now?” Namjoon prods, eyes trained on his own plate as he takes another bite.

“I think I’m getting there,” Jungkook says, relishing the way his words seem to brush soft smiles across all of their faces.

Later, after they’ve all gone upstairs to retire for the night, he spots Hoseok in the bathroom as he rounds the top of the staircase, door ajar and rubbing some sort of oil on his face. He hovers for a moment, just watching his movements in the reflection of the bathroom mirror before walking over.

“How’s the potion coming along?” he asks, resisting the urge to tuck his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder. “I forgot to ask.”

“Which one?”

“The memory one,” he replies. “Or I guess brain health,” he amends when Hoseok throws him a sidelong look.

“It needs to steep for a couple of days before it’s ready,” Hoseok hums. “And you don’t have to use it,” he assures, reaching a hand back to pat at Jungkook’s hip. “I can always just add some bottles to the shop like I always do.”

Jungkook nods a little absentmindedly before taking a step back and looking down the hall to the pink door.

“Is Jin still awake?” he asks, fingers bunching in the hem of his sweatshirt.

“He should be,” Hoseok nods, looking over his shoulder at Jungkook. “Go knock on the door, I’m sure he’d love to speak with you.”

Jungkook shifts his weight for a moment but after another encouraging smile from Hoseok, he pads softly down the hallway. He lays his knuckles softly against the woodgrain there, rapping lightly, and it’s only a few moments before the door swings open revealing a very confused and soft looking Jin.

“Oh,” he says, face morphing into one of understanding. Jungkook wonders if maybe nobody knocks in this house. If they just walk through doorways, uncaring of what they might be interrupting. “Jungkook-ah, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” Jungkook nods, rocking back onto the heels of his feet.

“Do you want to come in?” Jin asks after a moment of silence, holding the door open wider.

“Yes, please.”

He steps inside the room, clasping his hands in front of himself as he waits for Jin to gently click the door shut behind them.

“You can sit on the bed,” Jin offers, waving a hand for Jungkook to follow. They settle together there, on the edge of the mattress, and Jungkook stares straight ahead at the chest of drawers. It’s almost exactly what Jungkook would have imagined to be in Jin’s room, littered with various necklaces and trinkets, similar to what he’s seen at the shop.

“Is there anything that we could do to help me remember?” Jungkook finally asks, looking over to Jin hopefully. “Hoseok said he’s making a potion, but there has to be something one of you can do to speed along the process.”

“We’ve been looking,” Jin says slowly. “Namjoon’s been putting in some late nights going through our books trying to see if there’s some sort of spell or incantation,” he smiles sadly. “But you have to understand, Jungkook-ah, the risk is just too high.” Jungkook pushes his lips out, mulling over the words.

“I just wish I remembered,” he says finally, feeling the telltale stinging at the back of his eyes as he rubs the heel of his palm angrily across his lash line. “It’s not fair, it shouldn’t be this hard.”

“No, it’s not fair,” Jin agrees, arm hovering just over Jungkook’s shoulder until Jungkook leans in closer, nudging up into his touch.

“This place is magic,” Jungkook whispers angrily. “You’re all magic! Shouldn’t there be a way for me to get my memories back?” Jin sighs loudly, knocking his forehead against Jungkook’s.

“Dealing in memories is dangerous,” Jin starts slowly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, sniffling. “Hoseok said that.”

“I wish I had a different answer for you, Jungkook-ah, I really do. But I’d rather you be here with us and not remember, than try to help you remember and lose everything.” He rubs a hand soothingly up and down the outside of Jungkook’s arm. “I think all we can really practice right now is patience.”

It’s quiet for a moment, save for the sounds of their breathing echoing between the ticks of the clock on Jin’s bedside table. Jungkook tries to time his breathing to Jin’s, shoulders rising and falling in perfect synchronicity.

“You guys said before,” Jungkook starts, swallowing thickly and tilting his head up to trace the angle of Jin’s jaw above him. “You said the forest speaks to you?”

Jin hums, trailing his fingers along Jungkook’s arm until it caches on the sleeve, tugging the fabric up just slightly.

“In her own way, yes,” he agrees, “she speaks to us.”

“I’ve never heard her,” Jungkook admits.

Jin heaves out an exhale, pushing Jungkook to sit up straighter so they can look each other in the eye.

“Have you tried walking barefoot?” he asks.

“What?” Jungkook asks, blinking quickly and shaking his head as if he could rearrange the words into a sentence that makes sense. “Barefoot?”

“Yeah,” Jin shrugs. “I try it sometimes just to feel closer to her. I’m not sure that it does anything, but it can’t hurt to try.”

“You want me to walk barefoot through the forest?” Jungkook repeats, a little dumbfounded. “Alone?”

“Well, I guess you don’t have to be alone,” Jin says, “but it might be easier for you to hear her if it’s just you there.”

“Just me, the forest, and my bare feet,” Jungkook monotones.

“Hey,” Jin says, nudging his shoulder against Jungkook’s. “You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to, but you asked for my advice and that’s all I have to offer you!”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Jungkook jokes, standing up and heading to the door, finally ready to turn in for the night.

“I just think you might not be listening correctly,” Jin says quietly, staring at Jungkook’s retreating back. “You should give it a shot.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, nodding his head a little. “Goodnight, Jin-hyung.”

“Goodnight, Jungkook-ah,” Jin nods back. “Let me know what she says,” he tacks on. “I always love hearing her stories.”

The next morning, Jungkook bids goodbye to all the others as he leaves the house, alone for the first time in a while. He feels silly taking his shoes off on the front steps, lining them up neatly on the bricks before stepping down onto the grass.

It feels almost exactly how Jungkook expected it to feel. Blades of grass sprouting up between his toes, stray twigs poking into the undersides of his feet and clods of dirt making the earth so soft that his foot sinks in just enough to leave an indent. Every once in a while he comes across leaves that stick to his soles, and he’s forced to drag his foot along the earth to dislodge them. He finds himself less focused on listening to the forest, and more focused on dodging errant gum balls and pinecones so he doesn’t get a thorn in his skin.

He doesn’t quite know where he’s going, but he feels that same rope, tight and insistent around his midsection, and he follows the pull. He doesn’t quite understand the forests’ language yet, but that tugging is unmistakable.

Jungkook doesn’t know how far he walks, but after a while, he stops being able to register the little annoyances under his feet. He keeps walking forward, one foot after the other, and he starts to consider that the grass blades under his feet are actually much softer than he initially realized. It’s just another carpet, really. He stops for a moment to spread his toes against the earth, watching the way the grass folds and unfurls under the pressure of his body weight.

The dirt underneath isn’t as cold as he initially thought, it actually seems to be emanating heat. He walks a few more paces forward and looks behind him. The footprints should look like an ugly scar against the forest floor, but Jungkook can’t help but consider them almost charming, in a way. 

He has never really thought that his presence would improve something, but he looks at the forest floor, the way he’s changed it and left his mark, and he thinks that maybe, he’s not a problem to be solved.

Jungkook crouches down low, trying to tune out all of his thoughts and focus solely on the forest. He listens intently to the way the wind whistles through the branches and the rustling of the leaves overhead. It’s calming, but he can’t discern anything from it, until his hand begins to warm up.

He starts to become very aware of the ring on his finger, almost as warm as the forest floor underneath his feet. He holds his hand out in front of him, gazing at his ring as if he could see the heat waves billowing off of it, but it looks as it always does.

He waits a few beats before he slowly drags his hand up to his chest, pressing the ring directly over his heart.

He almost flinches from the noise. He hears every twig snap, every creaking branch underneath the weight of a perching bird, every dying leaf as it tumbles softly to the ground. The ring is hot against this chest, scalding even. He holds it there for as long as he can bear it before pulling it away, resisting the urge to rub at his chest. 

He drags his fingers up to the collar of his shirt and pulls it out, glancing down at his chest, half expecting to see a red line seared into his skin.

He can hear her clearly now.

“Jungkook-ah!” They all rush out of the kitchen before he can even close the door, Jimin slamming into his side in a frenzied hug. “There you are!” he gasps into the side of his neck.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, looking around at all of their worried faces. He looks over his shoulder at the windows on either side of the door to find that it’s pitch black outside.

“I told you he was safe,” Jin says, but Jungkook can still see the hint of uneasiness on his face.

“I’m sorry for worrying you all,” Jungkook mumbles, still staring at the windows in confusion, as if they betrayed him. “I didn’t realize I was gone for that long.” He shakes his head. “I could have sworn the sun was still up when I walked through the door just now.”

“The sun was still up?” Yoongi asks. “I guess she was making sure you got home alright,” he says slowly, but the way he gnaws on the inside of his cheek shows that it doesn’t quite settle his nerves.

“You mean the forest?” Jungkook asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes,” Hoseok replies. “Nevermind that, you’re here now and you must be starving, let me warm you up a plate.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Jungkook says, trailing behind them into the kitchen as if in a trance, only to find the table full of food, already gone cold. “You didn’t eat yet?” 

“No, not yet,” Hoseok says, nonchalantly, gathering plates to heat up for everyone.

“I’m sorry, again,” Jungkook says, hugging himself as he watches them scamper around the room, a little more erratic than usual. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Of course we did,” Jimin says, ushering him to his seat. “It’s family dinner.”

And really there’s nothing Jungkook can say to that, eyelids fluttering at the words. 

As they all finally tuck into their food, Jungkook has to bite back more apologies as he catches errant glances from the others, each one more worried than the last. Jungkook thinks he recognizes those glances. Like they’re checking to make sure he’s actually there. As if they might have imagined him.

“Did she say anything interesting to you?” Jin asks after too many beats of silence. “The forest?”

“Um,” Jungkook says, chewing thoughtfully and trying to arrange his thoughts. “She didn’t speak really,” he says slowly.

“You tried going barefoot right?” Jin asks, glancing down at Jungkook's feet, hooked on the rung of the chair and Jungkook flushes when he sees how dirty the soles are.

“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty obvious,” he laughs to himself, a little embarrassed.

“So it didn’t work then?” Jin asks, a little disappointed.

“I wouldn’t say it didn’t work,” Jungkook shakes his head.

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Yoongi whispers next to him, just quiet enough for Jungkook to hear. “Jin’s just nosy as hell.” Jungkook smiles wide at that, ducking his head to his chest. 

“I don’t mind,” he whispers back, before clearing his throat and looking back out to  the rest of the room.

“I didn’t really hear her,” Jungkook speaks slowly. “I think I understood her, though,” he says, but he can’t fight the nagging feeling that it wasn’t quite right. “It’s not really even that I understood her,” he amends, feeling the way the words dance on his tongue. “It’s that she helped me understand myself.”

Jungkook lies awake that night, staring at the ceiling. He’s long grown used to the creaking of the wood as the house settles into the earth, but for some reason, tonight, it makes him uneasy. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, it could be minutes, it could be hours, but he decides he can’t take it any longer. He sits up abruptly in bed and yanks the door open on the floor, scrambling down the ladder until he finally makes it to the landing below.

He looks up and down the hallway, tilting his head as if he could catch any sign of life. He looks at each door, considering briefly. 

His first night here, Namjoon said they wouldn’t mind if he needed company at night, and at the time, the idea seemed absurd. But Jungkook can’t be alone any longer. He peers out the window at the top of the stairs as if he could find comfort in the darkness between the trees, but the forest looks almost grotesque at night, limbs jagged and threatening, trunks growing crookedly out of the soil.

He shivers, turning away from the window, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. He doesn’t really think too much about it when he speed-walks to the black door at the end of the hallway, not even bothering to knock before he wrenches it open and steps inside, clicking it shut behind him.

The only sound that reaches Jungkook’s ears is a sluggish sort of rustling as he blinks a few times, attempting to adjust his eyes to the darkness. He glances quickly to the window to the right of the bed before darting his eyes away once again.

“Well, come on in,” Yoongi whispers, voice groggy as he lifts the comforter up. Jungkook stares, almost giving in to the need to push in close, but he can’t help the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that Yoongi doesn’t know it’s him. That he’s expecting one of the others.

“Yoongi-hyung?” he calls softly, but it sounds like a whimper to his own ears, and he sees the moment it registers on Yoongi’s face. He rolls over abruptly, pulling on the chain of the lamp on his bedside table, bathing them both in yellow light.

“Jungkook-ah?” he asks, eyes squinting at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Jungkook assures, twisting his fingers nervously as he leans back against the closed door. “I’m sorry to wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” Yoongi says, even though it’s obviously untrue, rubbing his eyes and sitting up more fully in bed. “Do you want to come sit?”

“Um,” Jungkook says, eyes darting around the room. “Can I close the curtains?”

“The curtains?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at the window, before turning back to Jungkook. “Yeah, of course,” he says, getting out of bed immediately and making his way towards the window.

“Oh,” Jungkook says, taking an aborted step forward. “I could have done it, you didn’t have to get out of bed.”

“It’s fine, Jungkook-ah,” he says, voice still gravely from underuse. “I was already up.”

Jungkook almost rolls his eyes at the words, but allows Yoongi to draw the curtains closed anyway.

“Do you want to talk?” Yoongi asks, reaching forward and touching his fingers to Jungkook’s wrist, dancing along the bones that jut out there. “Or do you want to sleep?”

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, tempted to just crawl into bed with Yoongi and not think any further, but he decides against it.

“Can we talk for a second?” he asks, hopeful. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late.”

“Sit,” Yoongi says, shaking his head as he pushes Jungkook to sit next to him on the bed, bouncing a little on the mattress. They sit there for a moment as Jungkook runs his fingers over the wrinkled sheets underneath them. They’re still warm from Yoongi’s body heat, and Jungkook takes a moment to revel in the feeling of it against his skin.

Yoongi allows the silence for longer than Jungkook would have, content to just sit in each other’s presence until Jungkook is ready to speak.

“Was I ever…” Jungkook whispers, already feeling the warmth bubbling up under the skin of his cheeks.

“Were you ever what?” Yoongi gently encourages, rearranging himself on the bed and jostling Jungkook just slightly.

“Was I ever a part of it?” he asks, unable to meet Yoongi’s eyes as he scrapes his nails up the flannel of his pants, leaving lightened streaks in their wake. It’s not the question that he wanted to ask, or at least not the one he intended to, but maybe it’s the one he needed answered anyway.

“Were you ever a part of what?” Yoongi asks.

“You’re all together,” Jungkook says, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to tamp down the embarrassment so he can get the answers he wants. “Was I ever a part of that relationship?”

“Oh,” he says, eyes widening a bit and Jungkook turns nervously to watch as Yoongi runs a hand nervously through the roots of his hair. “It’s a complicated question,” he sighs.

“Could you try?” Jungkook pleads, tapping the tips of his fingers against his kneecaps.

“We never really discussed it,” Yoongi shrugs. “If you were to ask me, yes, you were very much a part of our relationship,” he chuckles a little sadly. “But, no, we never explicitly discussed it.”

“I don’t think I understand,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.

“We grew to love you,” Yoongi says simply. “We never stopped loving you,” he says and Jungkook can’t help but bring his hands up to cup his ears, feeling the warmth emanating from his skin. “And I’d like to think you grew to love us as well.” Yoongi smiles, looking off into the corner of the room as if sifting through his own memories. “You were a key component of us,” he says. “Hell, you still are.”

“But we were never together?” Jungkook clarifies, eyes searching through the lines of Yoongi’s face as if he could find the answer written there. “We never kissed or anything like that? Nothing like what you do with the others?” 

He can’t help but ask, because there’s been something ugly growing inside of him, something akin to jealousy. It’s a feeling he tries to tamp down, but it’s getting harder the longer he stays in these woods. Sometimes the way they look at him, the way they speak to him, it feels like more.

“Ah,” Yoongi says, lips quirking a little. “Was that what you were asking?” He laughs a little patting Jungkook gently on the back. “No, Jungkook-ah, we never kissed.”

“So, we were never romantic then,” Jungkook swallows harshly. “Just friends,” he says, nodding his head at the words, vaguely trying to shake off the feeling of hurt. “Closer to family I guess.”

Yoongi tilts his head, a curious look on his face and Jungkook feels himself shrink under the gaze.

“It wasn’t romantic?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows scrunched together.

“What?” Jungkook asks, floundering. “You’re asking me? But you just said we never kissed?”

“Oh,” Yoongi whispers, nodding his head slowly. “Is that what romance is to you?”

“What?” Jungkook says a little helplessly, eyes darting around the room. “What do you mean?

“I told you we loved you, and that you were an important part of our relationship,” Yoongi repeats the words. They’re not stern, maybe a little playful even, but they’re pointed. Weighted. “So if that doesn’t signify romance to you, what does?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook whispers, shaking his head, wide eyes staring back at Yoongi.

“Kissing?” Yoongi asks. “Fucking?”

“No,” Jungkook says quickly, voice wavering a little. “I don’t know.”

“I guess that’s something you’ll have to answer on your own,” Yoongi sighs.

They sit quietly for a moment, but Jungkook can see out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi’s mouth opening and closing a few times before huffing out a breath through his nose. 

“We were really lost without you, Jungkook-ah,” he finally settles on, shoulders sagging.

“I think I was lost without you, too,” Jungkook whispers. He reaches out to tap at Yoongi’s kneecap in what he hopes is a soothing rhythm, counting off the beats in his head.

“Are you attempting to mediate, Jungkook-ah?” Yoongi rasps, the hint of a smile coloring his words. 

“Is it working?” Jungkook asks, glancing up hopefully.

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, reaching to tap along on the tops of Jungkook’s knuckles. “I think it is.”

He stays tapping for a while longer before eventually standing up, dislodging Yoongi’s hand from his own.

“I’ll go back to bed, then,” he says quietly, hand on the door knob and leaning his hip against the door as he stares back at Yoongi, still seated on the bed.

“Goodnight, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook waits a minute, feeling like there’s something more to be said, but he’s unable to find the words and he eventually turns to open the door.

“Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi calls, his voice so tender, and quieter than Jungkook has ever heard it. He leans his forehead against the door, bracing for the words to follow. “The way we felt for you, and the way you felt for us, it couldn’t be replicated,” Yoongi says. “You complete us.” Jungkook sucks in a breath as Yoongi huffs out a laugh. “That sounds pretty damn romantic to me.”

Jungkook closes his eyes and lets the words sink into his chest. They’re heavy, and they take up a lot of room, but he finds himself already getting used to their presence. Can’t remember a time when the words didn’t live right there behind his rib cage, nestled in soundly next to his heart.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with it all, so he tries to take Namjoon’s advice and just be.

He spends the next few days testing out the new weight in his chest. At first he thinks it will be harder to walk, that he’ll be a little off kilter, but he finds it to be easier than it ever was before. Despite the heaviness, he feels himself floating from room to room.

At night, when the others have all gone to sleep, he feels himself testing the words on his own tongue, hearing how they sound echoed into the room around him, imagining what it might look like when those words settle into six other chests. Imagining how they’ll carry that weight instead.

It’s only a few days later when Jungkook feels brave enough to bring it up. They’re all seated in the living room once more, Jungkook in his regular chair across the room, and the others spread out opposite him. Hoseok, Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon have somehow all managed to squeeze onto the couch, legs draped over one another and fingers dancing across arms. Taehyung opted to just spread out across all of their laps, grinning widely up at Namjoon, while Jin sits on a cushion on the floor, directly between Hoseok’s legs, with his head pillowed on his knee.

Jungkook can’t help but feel settled looking at them. They do this almost every day after dinner, and yet he always finds himself looking forward to it. 

At his old job, in his old apartment, with his old life, routine felt boring. Like he was wasting his life away. But here, their routine feels anything but that. It feels comforting and safe and warm. It feels like living.

“Do you ever miss me?” Jungkook asks, gracelessly interrupting the conversation around him. “The old me, I mean.”

“There is no old you,” Jimin says slowly. “There’s just you. And you’re right here.”

“You know what I mean,” Jungkook huffs, a little exasperated. “Do you miss when we were closer?” Jungkook shifts in his seat, sinking far enough down that he doesn’t have to look any of them in the eye. “I feel this sort of, I don’t know, tension,” he whispers, simultaneously hoping his voice is too quiet for them to catch, and just loud enough for them to hear. “Like every time you look at me, you’re remembering a time before me, or like you’re just waiting for me to remember.”

“We’re sorry for making you feel that way,” Jimin says, mouth hanging open as if he doesn’t know how to continue.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jungkook says, backtracking. He immediately regrets ruining the mood. “I’m probably just imagining it,” his voice cracks on the last word. “I don’t know.”

It’s quiet for a beat too long, just enough to make Jungkook uncomfortable.

“Jungkook-ah, could you sit up for us?” Hoseok asks, gently. “I don't really want to have this conversation with the arm of a chair.”

“I’d really rather stay down here,” he grumbles.

“Could you try?” he asks again. “For us?”

Jungkook breathes deeply for a few moments before he complies, dragging himself up into a sitting position and draping his body over the arm of the chair so that he’s facing the others, arms dangling lifelessly in front of him.

“Well,” Jin says, obviously biting back a laugh. “I guess it’s an improvement.”

“Look, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin says, voice so soft it almost aches. “We never meant to make you feel like we were waiting for another version of you to come back to us.”

“It wouldn’t matter to us if you never got your memories back,” Taehyung chimes in. “It just seems like it’s important to you that you do,” he shrugs a little, “and we care about what’s important to you.”

“You shouldn’t feel pressured to start back up where you were,” Hoseok says, leaning forward in his chair to link fingers with Jungkook. It’s awkward, a little too much space between them, to make the position comfortable, but Hoseok stays there anyway, and Jungkook can’t pretend like he’s not grateful. “You don’t need to pretend to be who you were before you left,” he assures.

“We’ve loved you before, and we can love you again,” Jin says.

“I know you probably don’t feel it yet,” Yoongi says. “But I hope you give us enough time to show you.”

Jungkook heaves out an exhale that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. It feels as if he’s been holding onto that breath for days, weeks even, his lungs never quite able to expand properly until right now. Like the rope had gone just slack enough to allow for this one breath.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, he squeezes his fingers reassuringly around Hoseok’s hand once, twice, before Hoseok pulls away to settle back into the couch.

“Can I sit over there?” Jungkook whispers.

“What?” Jin asks.

“I know it’s a bit packed,” Jungkook says, a little self conscious. “But I don’t like sitting over here alone.” He swallows, directing his line of sight to the top of Jin’s ear. “Is there a room for me on the couch?”

“We’ll make room,” Jimin says, hauling Taehyung up and over and pushing himself more onto Hoseok’s lap.

Jungkook stands up slowly, tucking himself into the spot they carved out for him, sandwiched between Taehyung and Yoongi, directly in the middle.

He sits there and finds himself wishing there was a mirror he could look in, to see how he looks interwoven with all of them. To see if the pattern they form together looks pretty enough. Natural enough. Good enough.

He lets the conversation continue around him without really listening to what they’re saying. He lets the comforting sound of their voices wash over him in waves. He leans his head against Taehyung’s shoulder and lets the vibrations of his voice echo through his bones and ring through his ears. And his muscles start to relax, slowly but surely, with each passing minute.

“I think I could too,” Jungkook says, turning further into Taehyung’s shoulder to bury his face there.

“What?” Hoseok asks, breaking off the conversation and turning all of their attention to Jungkook.

“I could too,” Jungkook repeats, swallowing thickly as he turns his face out to the rest of the room so his voice isn’t quite as muffled in the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt anymore. “I think I could love you all pretty easily.”

As he watches the pretty blushes spread across the planes of their faces, Jungkook muses to himself –

I think I already do.

Chapter Text

Jungkook is sitting in the kitchen idly, elbow on the table and his chin perched in his hand. It’s been several hours since the others have gone out for the day, but Jungkook can bring himself to move from his spot. He’s gazing out of the window at the branches there, almost hypnotized by their movements.

A loud banging sound interrupts his meandering thoughts. He rips his gaze away from the window, eyes landing on a door just to the right of the sink, now ajar and swinging against the wall.

“How have I never noticed that door before?” Jungkook wonders aloud, finally getting to his feet.

“The back door?” Namjoon asks, appearing in the doorway. “It connects directly to the garden,” Namjoon says, turning to look over his shoulder as if he could discern why Jungkook has never seen it until now. Ultimately he gives up, shrugging and using his heel to kick the door shut behind him. 

Namjoon’s shirt is folded up into a makeshift basket, hands cradling whatever he has bundled there close to his stomach. Jungkook feels himself rising out of his seat on instinct to try to catch a better glimpse, but all he can really make out are several small sachets nestled within the fabric. 

“Let me grab some of those, hyung,” Jungkook says, hopping up from his seat so abruptly that he accidentally tips his chair over, cringing at the loud clatter that echoes in its wake.

“No, that’s okay,” Namjoon says as Jungkook quickly rights his chair and hurries over to grab some of the load.

“I can help,” Jungkook tries again, laying a light hand on Namjoon’s forearm. Namjoon tenses at the contact, turning away just slightly and using his other hand to cover the bags, blocking them from Jungkook’s view. Jungkook deflates immediately, stepping back as Namjoon swiftly sidesteps him.

“Don’t worry about it, Jungkook-ah,” he says, stumbling a little as he makes his way over to the counter.

“I really don’t mind,” Jungkook assures, craning his neck a little to try to see around Namjoon’s shoulder.

Yoongi pokes his head into the kitchen so abruptly that both Jungkook and Namjoon jolt at the movement, with Namjoon dropping all of the little sachets onto the floor. The contents shake together with the movement and from the sound Jungkook realizes that they’re little bags of seeds. Namjoon curses as he bends down to scoop them back up.

“I don’t know what you did or what you said, Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi says, holding a hand up when Namjoon opens his mouth to protest. “And honestly I don’t care to know, but you better apologize to the kid right now.” He slits his eyes at Namjoon threateningly before sliding his gaze back over to Jungkook, scanning him up and down as if searching for the hurt there.

Jungkook shrinks a little under the attention, embarrassed that he was feeling so rejected by Namjoon that wherever Yoongi was in the house, he could feel it.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon sighs, ducking his head as he continues to gather the little bags of seeds, and this time he doesn’t stop him when Jungkook kneels down to help. Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see Yoongi give one nod of approval before once again exiting the kitchen.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jungkook assures, once he’s sure that Yoongi is out of earshot. “I was just trying to help.”

“And that’s exactly why I do need to apologize,” Namjoon sighs. “I sort of wanted to keep this a secret,” he says. “I had to call in a few contacts to get my hands on these.”

Jungkook blinks, finally looking down at the bags in his hands. They’re brown burlap, cinched with fraying twine, and in dainty, cursive lettering on the front –

“Myosotis?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side as he gathers up the rest of the seed bags, placing them on the counter next to Namjoon’s own pile.

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees quietly, and Jungkook watches as his fingers lightly trace over the lettering on the front of one of the bags. “More commonly referred to as forget-me-nots.”

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes out. He doesn’t know what else to say, but he can feel Namjoon’s eyes on him like a weighted vest as his fingers clench around the edge of the countertop.

“I don’t know if it’ll do anything or not,” Namjoon says finally, pushing the bags around on the counter listlessly. “I’ve never tried to grow them before, and I’ve heard they can be a bit… fussy.”

“Will it help?” Jungkook asks, tracking the movement of Namjoon’s fingers.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve been doing a bit of research, and I don’t think it can hurt necessarily.” He sucks in a deep breath before letting it out in a big whoosh of air. “Besides, Hoseok can’t be the only one trying to get your memories back,” he jokes.

“I thought messing with memories was dangerous?” Jungkook asks, finally uncurling his fingers and moving to the other side of the sink to hop up on the counter. He kicks his feet lightly just to hear his socked heels thud dully against the cabinet below.

“It is dangerous,” Namjoon agrees quickly, nodding his head. “But my flowers are just little helpers,” he shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain it necessarily, but they’re the least powerful of magics,” he chuckles a little. “Most witches you ask wouldn’t even really consider it magic at all, maybe just a manifestation of magic.”

“I think it’s pretty magical,” Jungkook says, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“I know you do,” Namjoon smiles so genuinely that it makes Jungkook’s chest clench. “You always did.”

Jungkook blinks back at him owlishly, but before he can formulate a proper response, Namjoon clears his throat.

“So, anyway,” he huffs, scratching at the back of his neck. “These flowers won’t give you your memories back or anything that grand,” he says. “But they might lead you to where you can find the memories yourself.” Jungkook nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he mulls over the new information.

“I don’t think I know what forget-me-nots look like,” he says, nodding his head toward the seed bags. “Can I help you plant them?”

“Absolutely,” Namjoon says, drawing himself tall from excitement. “It would probably even be better if you did help.”

“Are you sure it won’t mess up the…” Jungkook waves a hand toward Namjoon, “... the magic?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Namjoon says, letting out a little chuckle. “All you’ve ever done is enhance my magic, actually.”

“Sure, sure,” Jungkook laughs, hopping down from the counter, secretly pleased that Namjoon is in a good mood once again.

“What are your plans for today, Jungkook-ah?” Jin asks the next day over breakfast. “Do you want to come to the shop with me? It’s been a while since you visited.”

“Wish I could, hyung,” Jungkook says around a mouthful of food. “I’ll have to take a raincheck, though.”

“Yeah?” Jin asks, a smile playing on his face despite Jungkook’s rejection. “What could possibly be more interesting than hanging out with your favorite hyung?” The others around the table squawk at that, but Jungkook just smiles widely back at him, not even bothering to disagree.

“Namjoon-hyung got me forget-me-nots,” he says, excitedly, as the table hushes completely. “I’m going to help him plant some of them.”

“Oh,” Jin says slowly, eyes sliding over to Namjoon.

“Do you think it’ll do anything?” Hoseok asks, leaning forward so abruptly in his seat that the legs of the chair squeak painfully against the wooden floorboards.

“No clue,” Namjoon shrugs. “Worth a shot, though.”

“Well, it would definitely help to put alongside the brain health elixir I’m working on,” Hoseok shrugs.

The others nod in agreement, but the conversations die out after that, everyone seemingly lost in their own trains of thought. When everyone has finished and the dishes are cleaned, Jungkook moves to follow everyone out of the front door.

“I can come to the shop tomorrow, though, Jin-hyung,” Jungkook assures, making his way over to the garden.

“Only if you want to,” Jin shoots back, raising a challenging eyebrow and Jungkook can’t help but grin.

“Of course I want to,” he says. “You’re right, it has been a while.”

“So,” Jungkook says, clapping his hands together, stopping in front of Namjoon. “Where do we begin?”

“I’ve got a lot ready right over here,” Namjoon says, bracing his basket full of the seed sachets against his hip as he beckons him over. Jungkook follows, careful not to step on any leaves or roots, assuming it’s the same as stepping on a toe or something. Namjoon leads him to the far end of the garden, where two rows of dirt are already plotted out right against the back fence.

“Seems like you were preparing for this for a while,” Jungkook muses, squatting down to press a hand against the soil.

“It’s unfortunate that the only room I had was at the back of the garden,” Namjoon says, sheepishly. “Forget-me-nots like to be the center of attention, as I’m sure you can guess.” 

Jungkook hums, nodding his head as if the temperaments of forget-me-nots are common knowledge.

“I’m sure they’ll make up for the poor placement by growing strong and beautiful,” Namjoon says, words louder than before and Jungkook vaguely thinks that he’s talking to the seeds now. “If you truly are unforgettable, being at the back of the garden shouldn’t be an issue.” 

“Stop taunting them, Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook laughs, swatting at his shin from his spot on the ground until he sees the dimples settle into the hollows of Namjoon’s cheeks in response. “So, where do we begin?”

“It’s the same as planting anything, really,” Namjoon shrugs, pausing when Jungkook just stares back at him blankly. “Let me guess, you’ve never planted anything before.”

“I don’t know where I would find the space in my tiny apartment,” Jungkook rolls his eyes as if it were obvious. “I guess you’ll just have to hold my hand through it.”

“I can definitely do that,” Namjoon says, ducking his head a little shyly. “I’ve got all the different colors here I think, although they’re not labeled.” Namjoon kneels down next to Jungkook, placing down his basket and inspecting the seed bags a little closer. “If you want to start making small holes it’s a good place to start.” Namjoon reaches forward to press his finger into the dirt of the first row. “See? It’s soft enough to just use our hands.” He shimmies open one of the bags, and sprinkles in a few seeds before covering the hole once more and patting the dirt down.

“How far apart?” Jungkook asks, reaching a hand over. Namjoon grabs his hand, directing his finger just a few centimeters to the right of the first hole, and presses Jungkook’s finger into the dirt.

“About here,” Namjoon says before pulling his hand away. Jungkook stays there, finger buried underneath the soil for a bit, before he draws back. 

“Got it,” he says, clearing his throat and grabbing his own sachet of seeds, sprinkling in just a few before filling in the hole again. They get to work alternating back and forth until both rows are filled.

“Now all that’s left to do is water,” Namjoon says, clapping his hands against the top of his thighs and Jungkook watches helplessly as clouds of dirt erupt from the fabric in dark waves. “Jimin should be back soon to get some of the water out to them.” 

“Why can’t we water it?” Jungkook asks, wrinkling his forehead in confusion as he glances over to the hose coiled against the side of the house.

“We could,” Namjoon shrugs a little noncommittally. “But for some reason I think the crops turn out better when Jimin does it. It’s probably just a superstition, but I don’t want to take the chance.” He nudges Jungkook’s shoulder with his own. “Besides, I’ll never pass up the opportunity to spend some time with Jimin.”

“My ears were itching,” Jimin’s voice rings out. “I can only assume you need my help with the watering.”

“How’d you know?” Namjoon asks, climbing to his feet and waving a hand out to Jimin. Jungkook follows suit, dusting off his own hands as best he can, but a fine layer of grime stays behind.

“It’s been a while since you planted something new,” Jimin shrugs, bare feet dodging around plants and flowers to get to them. “Of course you need some of my good luck.”

“Of course,” Namjoon nods, smiling broadly.

Jimin stands for a moment toward the back gate of the garden, looking over the yard with his hands on his hips.

“What are you looking for?” Jungkook asks quietly, afraid to interrupt whatever it is that he’s doing.

“I’m trying to decide where to gather the water from,” Jimin says before walking over to the base of a large tree behind the house. “Namjoon-hyung?” he asks, lips pushed out in a pout as Namjoon walks forward. “Can you ask if I can grab some from here? It feels like there’s an excess of water underneath these roots, but I don’t want to anger the tree.”

Namjoon lays a gentle hand along the trunk, tracing the grooves of the bark before he hums to himself.

“It should be fine,” Namjoon says, turning back to Jimin and Jungkook with a satisfied smile. Jimin nods resolutely before kneeling down the ground and placing a flat palm next to one of the roots.

“Jungkook-ah, can you grab the watering can just over there?” Jimin asks, eyes still focused on the ground in front of him. Jungkook nods, quickly jogging over to the side of the house where the watering can is tucked right under the coiled hose. He brings it back over, placing it gently next to Jimin’s hand, nestling it between the blades of grass so it doesn’t topple over.

“Thank you,” he whispers distractedly.

“No problem.”

Jungkook watches him intently, excited to have a front row seat to some of Jimin’s magic. He stays kneeled there for just a minute more, before curling his fingers inwards, nails just slightly digging into the ground. When he pulls back, ropes of water emerge with him, like tendrils of shimmery roots attached to each of his fingertips. Jungkook watches in awe as he directs the rivulets to the open mouth of the watering can before laying his palm flat to the ground once again to stop the flow of water.

“Wow,” he whispers, unable to come up with a more articulate response.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Namjoon says and Jimin giggles bashfully as he picks up the watering can. “Show me the garden plot, Namjoon-hyung,” he says, batting his eyelashes jokingly. 

Namjoon laughs, dutifully leading him back over to the garden and pointing out the two rows of forget-me-nots. Jimin nods, tipping the watering can over one end, but he doesn’t have to walk back and forth, as the droplets seem to just carry themselves along the rows of seeds.

“There,” Jimin says, placing the empty watering can off to the side. “That should do it.”

“Thank you, Jimin-ah,” Namjoon says, putting a large hand around his waist and leaning down to plant a kiss on his temple.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute, because I guarantee I would allow no one else to grab me with those dirty hands,” Jimin laughs, brushing off the side of his shirt as Namjoon ducks his head to hide his smile.

“I can think of at least six other people you’d allow to do that,” Namjoon says pointedly.

Jungkook steadfastly refuses to meet either of their eyes, unable to fathom that he could be included in that, so instead he keeps his eyes focused on how the tufts of grass bend beneath the weight of his own feet.

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Jimin sighs.

“Well,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook raises his head just in time to watch the muscles in his shoulders bulge as he stretches his back. “I guess all there’s left to do is wait.”

That night when he goes to sleep, he dreams of a field of flowers in hues of blues, pinks, yellows and whites. They call to him, whispering among themselves, leaves outstretched as if beckoning him forward. He goes, trusting them at their word, allowing himself to be dragged down under their petals until his field of view is a mess of abstract colors and shapes.

“Jungkook-ah!” Taehyung calls, the front door slamming so hard behind him that the house shakes. Jungkook bolts up in bed, heart pounding at the sudden noise and gulping in deep breaths until he gets his bearings back and shakes off the last dregs of his vivid dream. He glances out of the window to see it’s much brighter outside than usual, meaning he probably already missed breakfast.

“Yeah?” he chokes out, scrambling to get out of bed and meet Taehyung downstairs, but just as he yanks open the door on the floor, Taehyung is already halfway up the ladder. “Is everything okay?” he asks nervously, stepping backwards to perch on his bed again, but making sure to keep his eyes trained on Taehyung as he climbs up onto the landing.

He doesn’t seem upset necessarily, just determined and a little more focused than usual as he looks around Jungkook’s bedroom, eyes darting wildly.

“Where is the moon dust?” he asks, finally turning toward Jungkook.

“I’m not sure,” Jungkook says slowly, eyes widening as he tries to rack his brain for the last time he saw it. “It’s probably at home?” 

“Home?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, not home,” Jungkook amends. “My apartment.” Taehyung smiles at him briefly for the correction before looking around the room again, doing a full turn on his heel before stopping back in front of Jungkook.

“Have you checked your backpack?” he asks, pointing over his shoulder at the hook on the wall where a bag that Jungkook has never seen before hangs. It sways softly as if it was just placed there.

“That’s not mine,” Jungkook starts to say, faltering when he sees Taehyung raise his eyebrows. “I should have known,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “But it’s still not the one I was using when I got the moon dust.”

“You should check it anyway,” Taehyung urges.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, slowly getting to his feet as Taehyung makes his way over to the bag but not actually touching it, watching Jungkook expectantly.

“It feels nearby is all,” Taehyung says, eyeing the bag and waving Jungkook forward.

“Has it always felt close?” Jungkook asks, joining him next to the bag but not yet reaching forward.

“No, I just started to feel it again today,” Taehyung shrugs. “I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but now I’m almost certain.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Jungkook whispers, eyeing it warily. 

“How long have you been here, Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung asks, exasperated. “Do I really have to explain magic to you?” he asks pointedly. “I just know how I feel and there isn’t always going to be an explanation.”

“You’re snippier than usual,” Jungkook huffs, but he finally reaches forward to unzip the bag. He peers inside and sure enough, nestled at the very bottom of the, otherwise empty, bag –

“It’s in there, isn’t it?” Taehyung asks, quirking an eyebrow at Jungkook who nods hesitantly. “Well?” Taehyung asks, nudging Jungkook’s shoulder. “Why aren’t you getting it out?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, tearing his eyes away to look at Taehyung. “Is it safe?”

“In what world would I have you do something that was unsafe?” Taehyung asks, scoffing.

“Well, I don’t know!” Jungkook says, throwing his hands up. “Why can’t you be the one to get it?”

“It’s not mine,” Taehyung says, eyeing Jungkook as if it should have been obvious. “It chose you, so you have to be the one to get it.”

“Fine, fine,” Jungkook grumbles and finally reaches in to grab the jar. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Taehyung asks, leaning forward into Jungkook’s space and peeking over his shoulder at the contents of the bag.

“It’s warm,” he murmurs.

“Well, yeah, it’s moon dust,” Taehyung says as if it was obvious. “Come on, we can bring it to my room.”

“Your bedroom?” Jungkook asks, finally pulling the jar out of the bag.

“No, the star room,” Taehyung says.

“I can finally go to the star room?” Jungkook asks excitedly, bouncing a little on his toes.

“Yeah, the cosmos are settled today, I think that’s why I was finally able to feel things outside of the room,” Taehyung shrugs. “It should be fine for a human to go in there.”

Jungkook balks at the idea that Taehyung is not quite human. Even though he’s aware of the fact that they all have magic in them, it never really crossed his mind that it meant that they weren’t human .

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, clearing his throat a little. “Well, after you, then.”

They descend the ladder, with Jungkook carefully cradling the glass jar against his chest so he doesn’t accidentally drop it. 

“I’m taking him to the star room,” Taehyung announces as they pass the kitchen, and Hoseok pokes his head out to look down the hallway at them.

“Yeah?” he asks, looking between them until his eyes fall on the jar in Jungkook’s hands. “Okay, I’ll let Yoongi know to keep his feelers out.”

“Ew, hyung, don’t call them feelers,” Taehyung says, screwing his nose up in disgust.

“Well, what else should I call them,” Hoseok laughs.

“Genuinely anything else,” Taehyung says. “Feelers make him sound like some sort of bug and hyung is way too cute to be a bug.”

“Bugs can be cute,” Jungkook says, pushing out his lower lip.

“And it’s so sweet that you think that, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung nods, a sympathetic look on his face as he pats his shoulder and Hoseok’s loud cackling bounces behind them down the hallway.

Yoongi is already waiting for them at the door when they reach the room, backlit by the bright white glow coming from the cracks around the doorframe.

“That was fast,” Jungkook says, peering around Taehyung’s shoulder at Yoongi who smirks back at him. Taehyung throws a look over his shoulder at him but before he can speak – 

“I know, I know,” Jungkook says, holding his hands up. “Magic or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Yoongi nods, silently laughing. “I brought you sunglasses,” he says, pulling out a pair from behind his back.

“They look more like ugly goggles,” Jungkook grumbles, but he takes them anyway, sliding the thick band over his head. They have shutters on the side so Jungkook’s vision is completely darkened and he has to squint to see the bright smile on Yoongi’s face.

“Safety first,” Yoongi shrugs, waving a hand toward the door. “I’ll be just down the hall, and I don’t have to tell you to be careful, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi says, but he eyes him so pointedly that the meaning is unmistakable. “If I feel anything wrong, even slightly, I’m coming to get him.”

“If there’s anything wrong, I’ll be shoving him out myself before you can even stand up,” Taehyung counters back and Yoongi nods, seeming pleased with the answer.

“Have fun, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi whispers, reaching out to trail his fingers along the inside of Jungkook’s wrist. Jungkook shivers at the contact, and can’t help but feel like the touch is equal parts comfort for Jungkook and reassurance for Yoongi. Jungkook wonders if he can feel how fast his heart is racing where his fingers are pressed just over his pulse point.

“I will,” Jungkook assures, reaching his own fingers up to press at Yoongi’s wrist in turn, feeling the shifting of his tendons when he finally pulls away.

“Ready?” Taehyung asks after a few beats, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts. When he looks over at Taehyung he sees a knowing smirk painted across his face and is glad that the goggles are big enough to cover the majority of his own blush.

“I’m ready,” Jungkook says, nodding succinctly.

Taehyung wraps a hand around Jungkook's wrist before he opens the door, quickly slipping inside and tugging Jungkook in behind him. He slams the door shut and Jungkook can’t help but tuck himself behind Taehyung’s back on instinct to block out some of the light. He squints as he peeks over Taehyung’s shoulder to take in the room.

There are designs of some kind chalked out on the floor, symbols that Jungkook doesn’t recognize at each wall connected by large, arched lines. The rest of the room is mainly a blur of white light, washing out most of the underlying shapes, but if Jungkook squints hard enough he can find the outlines of three orbs suspended in the middle of the room.

“Stars?” he asks, tucking his chin over Taehyung’s shoulder as they remain motionless by the closed door.

“Stars,” Taehyung confirms with a short nod, reaching a hand up over his shoulder to block out some of the light from Jungkook’s vision. “Are you doing okay?”

Jungkook hums, taking stock of his body. His head maybe feels a bit hazy, but he blames that on the intense light, and, now that he thinks of it, the intense heat. This room is much warmer than the rest of the house, and he supposes it makes sense, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling a bit unsteady.

“I think I’m okay,” Jungkook says after a few moments. “Maybe a bit woozy,” he tacks on, in the interest of honesty. 

“Okay,” Taehyung says slowly, glancing over his shoulder at Jungkook. “Let me know if you start to feel bad and we’ll leave.” 

Jungkook nods in response but continues to hide behind Taehyung’s shoulder, who thankfully doesn’t comment on it. Jungkook adjusts his grip on the jar of moon dust and with a jolt realizes some of what’s making him a bit jittery. 

“The jar is vibrating, I think,” he says, pressing it into Taehyung’s back, between his shoulder blades, so he can feel it shaking.

“I thought it might,” Taehyung hums. “I’m not worried about it for now, but let me know if it gets out of hand.”

“Okay,” Jungkook whispers, adjusting his grip on the jar to make sure it doesn’t jump to the floor.

“I think it’s probably safest if we keep to the outskirts of the room, as far away from the stars as we can,” Taehyung mumbles, sucking on the inside of his cheek as he contemplates their next move. “You see that table over there?” Taehyung asks, pointing to the opposite wall. 

Jungkook’s eyes follow his finger, but the room is so overexposed that he can’t even find the wall he’s pointing to. He looks to the ceiling, trying to follow the crown molding to the opposite end, but the wall fades into bright white almost immediately.

“Not really,” Jungkook says eventually and Taehyung giggles, reaching back to pat his hip reassuringly.

“Sorry, I forgot how hard it is for other people to see in here,” he says. “Just hold onto my shoulder and I’ll bring you over there.”

Jungkook nods, putting one hand on his shoulder and squeezing tightly, while holding the jar of moon dust securely to his chest with his other hand. They trail slowly around the outskirts of the room, Jungkook keeping his eyes forward to try to keep the dizziness at bay, until eventually a small, wooden desk starts to come into view.

“Oh, I see now,” Jungkook says. There’s regrettably no chair in sight though, and his legs are starting to feel a little wobbly from the proximity of the stars.

“You can set the jar down here,” Taehyung says, clearing off a space on the tabletop for Jungkook. He places the jar down gently but it starts rattling immediately and he has to jump to catch it before it crashes to the ground. He keeps a hand placed gently on the cap, holding it against the table while he looks back over at Taehyung, waiting for the next instruction.

“Why don’t you try opening it?” he suggests.

Jungkook blinks at him and then turns back to the jar, still rattling against the table with abandon.

“Do I have to?” he asks and Taehyung laughs, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he smiles. “I just can’t do it for you.”

“What are you expecting to happen if I do open it,” Jungkook pesters, leaning his hip against the desktop as casually as he can to try to keep his legs from buckling underneath him. He really is starting to get more light-headed the longer he stands there, nauseous maybe.

“I’m not really sure,” Taehyung shrugs, but he doesn’t seem too bothered by that fact. “It just feels like the right time to open it, if you want to.”

“You have a theory, you’re just not telling me,” Jungkook concludes, rolling his eyes a little as he adjusts his grip against the jar’s top.

“Maybe a half-baked one,” Taehyung agrees. “It’s just a little interesting that the shop would give this to you after you lost your memory,” he tilts his head to the side, gazing over at the stars as if they would have the answer. “Especially right after giving you the ring.”

Jungkook hums but can’t formulate a good enough response. He supposes it makes sense, and while he doesn’t necessarily want to open this overactive jar, he can’t help but feel overcome with curiosity.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath and twisting open the top. It unscrews easier than he expected, and he stumbles a little when it pops off of the jar, clattering unceremoniously to the floor and rolling over to the symbol chalked against the wall by their feet. Jungkook watches its journey before eventually realizing that the symbol is one of the phases of the moon.

“A waxing gibbous,” Taehyung says, as if following Jungkook’s train of thought. Jungkook hears him start to explain the symbols, but for some reason he can’t seem to focus on the words. It feels like his entire head has been dunked under water, Taehyung’s voice floating to him in a garbled and out-of-order mess, mind focused solely on the contents of the jar.

It’s unassuming at first, just a jar full of what looks like soot, dark grey granules that lay dormant in a heap. However, it doesn’t take long for them to start knocking against the sides of the jar, ricocheting back and forth in a choreographed dance, crossing paths but never once hitting each other. Jungkook gets lost looking at it, wondering how none of the dust is spraying out onto the desk until –

“Do you see anything?” Taehyung asks, hopefully. His voice startles him out of his trance and he stumbles a little bit against the floor, suddenly feeling much dizzier than before.

Taehyung grabs at his elbow, steadying him a bit and Jungkook feels a pressure on the front of his skull, realizing that it’s Taehyung pressing the goggles harder against his face.

“Come sit down,” Taehyung rushes, dragging him backwards a little, presumably toward a chair, but Jungkook can’t quite make it. His feet drag beneath him before his knees buckle completely.

“Okay,” Taehyung grunts, holding Jungkook up and bracing him against his side. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, slowly lowering Jungkook to the ground. “Are you still with me?” Taehyung asks, and Jungkook can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady so as not to worry Jungkook.

“I’m fine, I just got a little dizzy,” Jungkook says, trying to sound reassuring as Taehyung guides his head between his own knees, rubbing his back soothingly. A loud banging on the door jolts him, head whipping up and Taehyung heaves a sigh.

“I’m coming in!” Yoongi calls, barely giving Taehyung a chance to respond before he slips in, immediately closing the door behind him. Jungkook squints up at him, giggling a little when he sees that Yoongi has his own set of goggles on, which makes his eyes look laughably big compared to the rest of his head.

“See,” Jungkook mumbles, leaning more heavily into Taehyung’s side. “He is a cute bug.”

Taehyung barks out a laugh as Yoongi tilts his head to the side and even though his eyebrows are covered by the goggles, Jungkook can tell they’re raised pretty high just by the deep set wrinkles spidering across his forehead.

“Did he just call me a cute bug?” Yoongi whispers.

“I’ll explain later,” Taehyung laughs, grabbing more firmly onto Jungkook’s arm. “Help me grab his other arm so we can get him out into the living room.”

“Right,” Yoongi says, positioning himself on Jungkook’s other side and heaving him up.

Jungkook tries to get his feet to move, but he just ends up tripping himself, and eventually decides to just allow Taehyung and Yoongi to bear the brunt of his weight as they finally drag him into the hallway, slamming the door shut.

“Everything okay?” Hoseok asks, worriedly. He gets one look at Jungkook and immediately rushes down the hallway to help bring him to the living room.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook slurs. “Just got dizzy in there.” Hoseok shushes him as they gently lower him onto the couch, propping up his head against the armrest and gently removing his goggles. “I promise, nothing’s wrong.”

Hoseok eyes him suspiciously, before turning to Yoongi for confirmation. Yoongi laughs, sliding his own goggles off of his head and Jungkook focuses on the red indents the suction cups have left behind, eyes tracing the lines continuously until he stops seeing double.

“He seems fine,” Yoongi assures, fingers coming up to brush over Hoseok’s shoulders soothingly. “I only went to check on them because Jungkook started feeling more confused than before.”

“See?” Jungkook says, snuggling deeper into the throw pillow. “I’m just peachy.”

“What’s up with him?” Namjoon asks, stepping into the room and dusting his hands off on the back of his pants.

“Tae-ah brought him into the star room,” Hoseok sighs, sweeping a hand through the top of Jungkook’s hair and Jungkook hums in response, leaning into the contact.

“He’s just a bit dizzy,” Taehyung says, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch and dragging Jungkook’s feet into his lap.

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Namjoon snorts, leaning over Jungkook to get a better look at him. “Go to sleep, Jungkook-ah,” he says, patting the middle of his chest. “You’ll feel better when you wake up, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Jungkook murmurs in response, focusing on the gentle pressure of Hoseok’s fingers against his scalp until he drifts off.

He dreams of the little jar of moon dust, but this time when the dust starts moving, it’s not random. The particles rearrange themselves into a picture, Jungkook recognizes himself, surrounded by all six of his hyungs. The images shift so fast that it resembles a movie, flipping through different scenes. It’s not until the credits start rolling that Jungkook starts to think that he might have just watched a movie of his own life.

He’s dragged out of the dream by the sensation of fingers in his hair. He snuggles further into the pillow and groans when the fingers press harder against his scalp.

He doesn’t want to give in and open his eyes just yet, still clinging to the last wisps of his dream. It’s impossible to tell if what he saw were memories or just dreams, or worse wants , but the details of the dream fade so quickly that Jungkook doesn’t have time to contemplate any further.

“How are you feeling, kid?” Jin asks, using his grip on Jungkook’s hair to tilt his head back. Jungkook flutters his eyes open in response, gazing up at Jin’s face, upside-down. 

“I’m fine,” he says around a yawn, dragging himself up into a sitting position, and unfortunately, dislodging Jin’s hand from his hair with the movement. 

He blames the sleepiness on what he does next, reaching out to grab at Jin’s hand and guiding it back to the top of his head, threading his fingers through the roots. Jin laughs at him, but obliges, sliding over to sit closer to him on the couch.

“I heard you had a pretty eventful day,” he says, gently prodding for information as he tugs his fingers through the strands at the base of Jungkook’s neck.

“The star room is so cool, hyung,” Jungkook replies, and he hears Taehyung’s bright laughter in the hallway as he pokes his head into the room.

“See?” Taehyung says, throwing his hands up. “I told you he had fun.”

They make him stay home and rest for the next two days.

Jungkook can’t say he’s necessarily surprised, but he is starting to get a little restless, especially when all of the others are out for the day. He finds himself wandering through the rooms a little listlessly. He trails his fingers along the walls, not really seeing, but stuck in his head. 

It all comes back to him in flashes, the dream, or maybe the memories. He sees himself wandering through the shop, only this time there’s no pull. He wants nothing and he gets nothing, returning to a puzzled Jin at the counter. 

He sees various hands intertwined with his own, cradled against the top of his thigh or the fabric of a couch. He sees rings dangling against breast bones and low-hanging tree limbs scraping against windows.

Some of it feels so real, and others feel like just figments of his own imagination, longings from deep within the recesses of his own mind.

He blinks back to awareness in front of Taehyung’s bedroom. He lays a gentle palm against the dark green of the wood, hearing the bright peals of laughter leak out of the cracks of the door before tentatively knocking.

It’s Jimin that opens the door, still catching his breath from whatever had the two of them giggling, but the sound chokes off when he sees Jungkook in the doorway.

“Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung asks from his perch on the bed, head hanging over the edge of the mattress. “Is everything okay?” he asks, sitting up quickly.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Jimin says softly, squeezing Jungkook’s arm reassuringly.

“You don’t have to go,” Jungkook starts to protest but Jimin just shushes him.

“You can fill me in later if you want me to know,” he says, stepping around Jungkook and heading toward his own room. “You came to Taehyung for a reason.”

Jungkook swallows, watching him disappear behind the yellow door of his own room, before turning back to Taehyung.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he urges, waving him inside. “A written invitation? Come on in.”

Jungkook ducks his head, stepping through and clicking the door shut softly behind him. He stays there, leaning heavily on the door knob until Taehyung rolls his eyes, sliding out of bed and grabbing Jungkook’s wrist to drag him to sit down on the mattress with him.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Taehyung says, laying down and intertwining his hands together on top of his stomach. “But I’ll listen if you have something you need to say.”

Jungkook nods, thankful for the out as he chews over the thoughts that have been bouncing around his head all day.

“I think my memories are stored in that jar,” he says softly, afraid of saying the words out loud and getting his hopes up.

“Why? Did you see something?” Taehyung asks quickly, sitting up quickly and putting his full attention on Jungkook.

“Not anything clear,” Jungkook shakes his head apologetically. “It was more like a feeling.”

“A feeling?” Taehyung asks, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, ducking his head a little shyly. “Ever since I looked inside the jar, it’s like now when I look at you all, I feel different.”

“Different how?”

“I feel more?” Jungkook shrugs. “You all feel more familiar, I don’t know how to explain it.” He watches Taehyung as he mulls over the words. “Is that weird?”

“Not any more weird than all of this has been so far,” Taehyung laughs, finally leaning out of Jungkook’s space.

“Well, what do you think I should do about it?” Jungkook asks.

“You said you feel… more?” Taehyung checks, looking back at him as Jungkook nods a little hastily. “I think you should just go with your gut,” Taehyung shrugs.

“But what if it’s all wrong,” Jungkook whines, tipping backward to sprawl out against the sheets and shying away from Taehyung’s gaze as he coos back at him.

“No one is going to make fun of you, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung assures, rubbing a soothing hand over his forearm. “I’m sure the others will have a fit if you start…” Taehyung goes quiet for a second, hand pausing in its ministrations. “What are you going to start doing exactly?” he asks.

Jungkook groans, shoving him away.

“The point is,” Taehyung laughs, returning his hand to Jungkook’s forearm to stroke over the skin there. “There’s not a lot that you could do that would put us off,” Taehyung says. “Trust me.”

“Okay,” Jungkook whispers, finally picking his head up and stretching his back out against the seat until it creaks under his weight. “But if they make fun of me, I’m telling them that you put me up to it.”

“And I will take the blame happily,” Taehyung says, laying a hand over his heart in a mock-promise.

The next day, Jungkook decides he’s had enough of wandering around the house on his own, sidling up to Jin as he washes their breakfast dishes.

“Hyung…” Jungkook says, grabbing a towel to help dry off the plates as Jin sets them off to the side.

Jin slides his gaze over minutely, squinting at him.

“Jungkook-ah…” he says, matching his tone playfully, but still eyeing him suspiciously.

“Can I cash in that rain check?” Jungkook asks hopefully, reaching up to stack the plates on the shelf in front of him.

“I don’t know,” Jin says slowly, handing off the last plate to Jungkook and eyeing him up and down. “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“I’ve felt fine ever since the first nap, hyung,” Jungkook says, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. “Seriously, it’s really nice that you guys care about me, but I promise I feel as good as new.”

Jin sighs, squinting his eyes at him more as if he could see through Jungkook’s skull to his mind, if he just looks hard enough.

“Well,” he says, glancing sideways at the others who nod back at him a little hesitantly. “If you’re sure you’re feeling up to it, I don’t see why not.”

“I’m sure!” Jungkook says, following Jin so closely to the front door that he’s practically stepping on the backs of his heels.

“She’s going to be so pleased to see you, I can already tell,” Jin says, now unable to hide his excitement.

“The shop?” Jungkook asks, slipping on his shoes and following Jin out of the front door.

“Yeah, it’s been a minute since you’ve stopped by,” he nods. “I think she misses you.”

Jungkook colors at the words, vaguely thinking how odd it is to feel shy about a building. And how odd it is that he can’t bring himself to care, before an errant thought enters his brain unbidden.

“Isn’t the shop kind of an extension of yourself, though?” Jungkook asks. “You can just tell me  you miss me, hyung, I won’t mind,” he says cheekily, smiling widely at Jin as he sputters back.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Jin says, hip checking him to cut off his laughter. “Besides I have no reason to hide my feelings for you, I miss you whenever you’re not there.” Jungkook ducks his head at that, avoiding Jin’s eyes.

“She’s not really an extension of me, anyway,” Jin says. “She existed before me, even if my magic does work to bring her more to life.”

“You’ve explained it before and I’m still not quite sure I understand,” Jungkook says, shaking his head a little.

“Have you heard of familiars?” Jin asks, grabbing Jungkook’s elbow to steer him around a large root poking out of the ground.

“Like black cats?” Jungkook asks, a little distracted as he tries not to stumble over errant branches.

“Sure,” Jin snorts. “It’s the same sort of concept I guess, the shop uses my magic to come alive, but the shop is not me per say.” He thinks a little bit, raising up a low-hanging branch for Jungkook to duck under. “We’re compatible in that way though,” he shrugs. “Yoongi thinks we’re soul-bonded but I’m not sure if it’s that serious.”

“Well, see,” Jungkook says, nudging Jin’s side. “If the shop is part of your soul, then it is really you that misses me and not the shop.”

“Sure,” Jin laughs, not bothering to argue any further.

Jungkook continues to follow him closely, taking care to keep his steps aligned to the dapples of sunlight filtering in through the tree leaves and avoiding the darker areas. Jin eyes him warily as he dodges around the shadows, painted jaggedly across the forest floor.

“You know, you don’t have to stick to the light,” Jin says, holding a hand out to Jungkook who immediately grabs it, intertwining their fingers together and reveling in the way Jin ducks his head shyly at the contact.

“Call it superstition then,” Jungkook shrugs, but allows himself to be pulled to the more shaded areas, more emboldened by Jin’s steady presence at his side.

“I’ve got you,” Jin huffs out, dragging Jungkook’s arm over until they’re so close that Jungkook has to match his stride to Jin’s for fear of tripping over him.

Jin only lets go of his hand when they reach the shop, having to fish out the key from his pocket to unlock the door. Jungkook immediately misses his warmth, even as he drags his palm up the front of his pants to wipe off some of the accumulated sweat there.

He trails after Jin, stepping over the threshold and expecting him to flip on a light switch, but the shop seems to just come alive simply by having Jin close by. It’s illuminated in a warm, orange glow, and the shelves start to hum, as if the trinkets that live there have started to chat with one another.

“Hm,” Jin says, walking over and pressing a hand to the first bookshelf on their right. “She’s louder than usual.” He turns around to throw a big smile at Jungkook. “I think she might like you more than me at this point.”

Jungkook ducks his head, unable to keep the big smile from spreading across his face, cheeks hurting from the effort.

“Hyung,” he whines. “It’s impossible to like me more than you,” he tries for flirty, but his voice just sounds nervous to his own ears. Jin rewards him anyway with a jovial laugh.

“You’d be surprised, Jungkook-ah,” he heaves a world-weary sigh as he ducks down behind the counter. “People will always gravitate toward the youth, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, yes,” Jungkook nods, fake-serious. “I forgot how old you were.”

“Yah!” Jin yells, jumping back up from behind the counter to shoot a withering glare at Jungkook. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you about respecting your elders?”

Jungkook giggles, feet carrying him over to one of the shelves further back in the store before he even makes the conscious decision to do so. Jungkook thinks he can vaguely hear Jin’s voice trickle after him, entering his mind like an afterthought –

“Be gentle with him.”

Jungkook recognizes that the words are not directed at him so he swiftly lets them drift away, too preoccupied with rounding the corner and weaving between various stacks of unsorted books and oddities. 

He stops in front of a bookshelf that is identical to the others, save for the way the wood seems to glitter at odd points, catching the light in ways it shouldn’t.

He tilts his head to the side, staring unblinkingly at the sparkling shelves for what feels like ages until he’s finally able to look away. When he does, the shape of the shelves stay burned to his eyelids. He blinks a little bit to regain his focus, but the bright white lines stay carved out of his vision.

It’s only now that he’s able to finally draw his eyes away from the wood that he notices that the shelves themselves are covered by a large curtain. He stares at the fabric for a moment, thinking he’s seen it before. The way it moves is unnatural, falling in waves like thick liquid. His eyes trail down to where the curtain has pooled on the floor, too long for the bookshelf, even though the shelf itself is impossibly tall, and when Jungkook looks up, he can’t see where it ends.

Jungkook nudges the bottom of the curtain with his toe, watching as the fabric seems to splash against his shoes in ripples, and that’s when he recognizes it. The curtain looks familiar because it’s practically identical to the one back at the house, in the room that shouldn’t exist. The room that was tacked onto the houses’ floor plan without preamble –  much like how Jungkook was tacked onto their little family – he thinks to himself softly, before shaking his head of the errant thoughts.

He reaches out a tentative hand, almost expecting to reach through something like a waterfall with the way the fabric hangs there, but before he can make contact –

“Jungkook-ah!” Jimin calls, startling Jungkook into jumping away from the shelf, hand falling bereft at his side.

“Sorry,” Jimin laughs, peeking his head around the shelf. “Didn’t mean to scare you, I just thought I’d come say hi.” Jimin eyes him for a few moments. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says, even though he feels like he’s vibrating out of his skin. “I just…” he waves a hand at the shelf as if Jimin could draw his own conclusions.

“The shelf?” Jimin asks, walking over to take the space next to Jungkook. “What about it?”

“Not the shelf, the curtain,” Jungkook says, blinking back at him. “You don’t recognize it?”

“Well, I mean, sure,” Jimin shrugs. “All the shelves here are pretty similar to each other.”

“No, I mean the curtain,” Jungkook insists. “It’s like the one in that weird room at the house.”

“Oh,” Jimin says, tilting his head to the side to survey it again. “Sure, I guess. It’s just a curtain though, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t move like a curtain,” Jungkook mumbles.

“It doesn’t?” Jimin asks, turning to look at Jungkook as if making sure he’s not being made fun of.

“No,” Jungkook says. “At least I don’t think so?” Jungkook huffs. “It’s like liquid.”

“Huh,” Jimin replies slowly. “I guess you’re right.”

Both of them continue to gaze back at the curtain for a few moments, but neither makes a move to touch it.

“Do you want me to ask about it?” Jimin asks, hiking a thumb toward what Jungkook can only assume is the front of the store.

“Sure,” he shrugs, watching Jimin disappear into the shelves again, footsteps fading into the dull humming of the shelves once more.

He waits to see if either of them will come to find him again, but curiosity quickly overtakes him, reaching a trembling hand out to the curtain.

When he finally wraps his fingers around the edge of the fabric, it doesn’t feel like rushing water the way he thought it might, it feels more like swiping your hand through a low-hanging cloud. He can barely feel the fabric, but he can tell that he’s touching it because of the way it moves under the pressure of his palms. 

He takes a deep breath before pulling back the curtain, and the shop immediately goes dark. He freezes, dropping the curtain on instinct, and he’s once again bathed in warm light. He swallows, looking over his shoulder but the shop looks the same as it did. He taps his foot on the ground just to prove to himself that the floorboards are solid beneath him, real and tangible.

He returns his gaze to the curtain and steels himself, grabbing the edge and lifting it up once again. This time, he forces himself to focus his eyes on what’s on the shelves rather than the way the shop seems to muffle out of his consciousness, as if it never existed in the first place.

At this point, Jungkook shouldn’t be surprised, not really anyway, but there are no shelves beyond the curtain. Instead, Jungkook stares out into the forest, and although it looks like any forest thick with trees and underbrush, Jungkook can tell that it’s their forest, simply by the way the wind sounds as it whistles through the negative spaces of the leaves overhead. 

It feels like it’s out of a dream though, just slightly off, like wisps of the actual thing. Jungkook tilts his head when he notices sunflowers gathered around the base of one of the bigger tree trunks. He’s never seen any sunflowers inside the forest, just the field by the train station. He watches them for a few moments, eyes tracing the edges as if he could see their outlines blurring into the background. Anything to prove that what he’s seeing isn’t actually real.

Jungkook feels the rope tightening around his middle once again, urging him forward, but he keeps his feet firmly planted in the store. The sound of the floorboards creaking underneath his weight slowly starts to morph, replaced with the sound of tree branches creaking uneasily under the weight of their own leaves. This, too, is familiar to him in a way it hadn’t been before.

His eyes catch on a glimmer of something, sparkling at odd intervals as it catches the light. Jungkook tilts his head trying to catch a better glimpse of it. He wrinkles his eyebrows together when he realizes it’s a long silver chain, dainty like a necklace, and wrapped around the branch of one of the tree limbs.

Jungkook heaves a deep breath trying to come back to himself. The tugging around his midsection becomes more insistent, and he imagines yanking the rope back until, eventually, it hangs slack around his waist. With the rope loosened, he finds it easier to move again and he forces himself to drag the curtain back down in front of him, gasping for air when the warmth of the shop finally returns to him. 

“Jin-hyung!” Jungkook yells, or at least tries to, but his voice is barely above a whisper and he can’t seem to unclench his hand from the fabric. 

“Jungkook-ah?” Jin calls back in alarm, and he finds Jungkook quicker than he expected. “Is everything okay?” He eyes him warily but Jungkook can’t bring himself to move a muscle until Jin lays a gentle hand around Jungkook’s where it’s still fisted in the fabric of the curtain.

“You can let go, Jungkook-ah,” Jin says softly, bringing up his other hand to gently pry Jungkook’s fingers apart. Once he’s successfully untangled his fingers from the fabric, Jin continues to hold onto his hand, cradling it within his own and brushing his fingertips over his knuckles, now a bright red from how hard he was holding on.

“I don’t know what she’s trying to tell me,” Jungkook huffs, frustrated. “It feels like she’s yelling at me, trying to get me to understand but,” he shakes his head. “I can’t hear her properly.”

“That’s okay,” Jin says, nodding calmly.

“What was behind the curtain, Jungkook-ah?” Jimin’s voice chimes in and Jungkook finally turns his head, neck a little stiff from the effort, to see Jimin peering at him over Jin’s shoulder.

“The forest,” Jungkook whispers, finally relaxing and allowing his fingers to curl around Jin’s, focusing on the ridges of his palms.

“Are you scared?” Jin asks carefully.

“I’m not scared, no,” Jungkook says, trying to put into words what he was feeling. “But she wanted me to go there.”

“She wanted you to go?” Jimin asks worriedly.

“She was really insistent and it felt like I had done it before?” Jungkook whispers weakly. “I’ve seen the forest everyday since I came here, but this time she just looked so familiar .” He shrugs a little helplessly.

“Hm,” Jin hums to himself, pulling Jungkook further away from the shelf and leading him back to the front of the store. 

“Did she give you anything?” Jimin asks. His eyes trailing down to his hands and Jungkook opens them, palms up, to show that they’re empty.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, thoughts returning to the silver necklace dangling from the tree branch. “But I think she might have been trying to.”

“Weird,” Jimin says, shaking his head, allowing the silence to linger between them for a few more beats. “Well, I have to head back to the house.” He eyes Jungkook carefully for a few moments. “Do you want to come back with me?”

Jungkook thinks for a moment, eyes skating over the shelves on either side of him, but he can’t seem to find the nervousness he felt only a few moments ago.

“I think I’m okay,” Jungkook says slowly, turning to Jin. “Is it still okay if I stay here?”

“It’s alright by me,” Jin shrugs. “But I’d feel better if you stayed up front with me, at least for today.”

“Wow, twist my arm,” Jungkook smirks and Jin nudges him in the side while they wave bye to Jimin.

They have only one customer that day, and Jungkook still feels uneasy watching them drift through the aisles of the shop, thinking about himself in their shoes.

But luckily, for the majority of the day, all he does is help Jin take inventory. Jin works so close to him that Jungkook can always feel their skin brushing against each other. He can’t tell if Jin is staying so close to comfort himself or Jungkook, but either way he’s grateful. He catches himself leaning further into the contact whenever possible, just to see the way Jin’s mouth ticks up at the corners.

“Alright,” Jin says when the sun starts to get lower in the sky, bathing the outside landscape in a dull gold. “Time to head out.”

“How did the rest of the day go?” Jimin asks when they step through the front door of the house. Jungkook can tell by the way the others pretend not to listen to the answer that they’ve already been filled in on the events of the day.

“Normal,” Jungkook assures. “Except for the fact that Jin-hyung held my hand.”

The tension in the room seems to bleed out immediately while Taehyung whines. 

“No fair, I want to hold his hand!”

“Whose?” Yoongi asks pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

“Good point,” Taehyung nods, pretending to think for a few moments. “Luckily I have two hands and don’t have to choose.” He holds his hands out to both of them, wiggling his fingers jokingly until Jimin hip checks him, making him stumble into the kitchen after the others.

The next day is a dreary one and, with the morning sun not shining in through his window, Jungkook wakes up much later than usual. He pulls on a hoodie and shuffles downstairs, finding it still and quiet – the most vacant Jungkook has ever seen the house since he started staying here.

He goes to the kitchen to make a coffee, dropping his spoon amongst the other dirty dishes before leaning over the sink to peer out of the small window there. He catches glimpses of Namjoon in the garden as he weaves between some of his taller plants, broad shoulders unmistakable even with all of the obstacles.

Jungkook grabs his mug, cupping it between his hands and slips on a pair of sandals that are positioned by the back door. He’s not sure whose they are, but they’re a little small on him, so he has a few guesses in mind. He pulls the door closed behind him louder than he normally would to alert Namjoon to his presence, so he doesn’t sneak up on him.

“Hey, Jungkook-ah!” Namjoon calls out, peeking his head up over a tall hedge with various blooms of some kind of flower Jungkook doesn’t recognize.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls back, opening the gate to the fenced in garden and latching it again behind his back. “Thought I’d come keep you company,” he says, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Or maybe keep myself company,” he laughs, shrugging.

“I appreciate it, nonetheless,” Namjoon smiles widely. “Do you want to come see the forget-me-nots?”

“Sure,” Jungkook nods. “They can’t be much more than sprouts at this point, right?” But he quickly snaps his mouth shut when he sees the rows of flowers, already in full bloom. “Wow,” he breathes out.

“They’re pretty, right?” Namjoon says, excitedly. “I guess that’s why they’re called forget-me-nots.” He reaches out to brush his knuckles against their petals with a gentle hand, more gentle than Jungkook has ever seen him. He could swear that the flowers lean into his touch, brushing back against his hand and Jungkook feels a little silly at the surge of jealousy he feels, wanting desperately to feel Namjoon’s gentle touch against his own skin.

“Are they done growing, then?” Jungkook asks, clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from the flowers. He knows better than to wonder how they could have bloomed so fast.

“Just a couple more days, I think,” Namjoon says, nodding his head. “Then I think we should be able to harvest some of them.”

“And do what with them?” Jungkook asks, kneeling down to get a better look.

“I’ve been doing some research,” Namjoon shrugs. “There’s not a lot of studies on the topic, but I have a few ideas we could try.”

Jungkook reaches out his own hand, but the flowers don’t seem to like him as much, swaying just out of his reach as Namjoon chuckles at them. Jungkook glances up at him, feeling a little lost as if he was being left out of a joke.

“You make them nervous,” he whispers in explanation, and the flowers seem to balk at the words, wind whistling through their petals in a loud hum as they whip back and forth dangerously.

“They like you more than me,” Jungkook laughs. “I can’t blame them really,” he tacks on, just to see the color rise to the tips of Namjoon’s cheeks.

“They’re interesting, forget-me-nots,” Namjoon says, abruptly changing the subject as Jungkook holds back a laugh. “I’ve never planted a flower like them before, they chatter quite a bit.” 

“I guess they’re impossible to forget because they never stop talking,” Jungkook jokes, eyeing them a bit more before letting his hand drop to the soil. “Not as nice as your wisteria, then?”

“Oh, nothing could replace them,” Namjoon says, sagely, patting the soil next to Jungkook’s hand, and he isn’t sure if the comforting gesture is meant for him or the flowers.

“Not even me?” Jungkook asks, teasingly, and he knows it’s a dangerous path to travel, but he can’t help himself, eyes trained on their fingers side-by-side in the soil, but very distinctly not touching.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Namjoon says, evasively, standing abruptly. “We can try out some of the things I researched in a couple of days when the blooms have fully matured,” he promises, eyes darting wildly around the garden.

“I’m good to try anything at this point,” Jungkook chuckles, standing up, looking at the flowers one last time as they gently sway with the pushes of the wind.

Please help me remember them .

That evening when they’re all gathered around the table for dinner, Jungkook can’t shake the forget-me-nots from his mind. He watches the way Jin presses a hand to Jimin’s neck when he asks a question, the way Taehyung leans over into Hoseok’s space whenever possible, raucous laughter brushed across both of their tongues, the way Yoongi taps a settling rhythm on the top of Namjoon’s thigh, hypnotic and painful all at once.

Jungkook also notices, starkly, how none of these gentle and casual touches are awarded to him. He helps clean up all of their plates, lost in his thoughts as he shoos them off to the living room while he finishes up.

He’s been scrubbing the same plate in circles for several minutes when he realizes that he’s not alone in the kitchen.

“Are we going to discuss it?” Yoongi asks, and Jungkook startles a little, whipping his head over his shoulder. He assumed that Yoongi had left with the others, but he’s sitting in the same seat as he was at dinner, chin cradled in his hand as he leans against the kitchen table.

“Discuss what?” Jungkook asks a little wearily, taking stock of his emotions. He presses a hand to his midsection on instinct, but he doesn’t feel any tugging there.

Yoongi eyes the movement, bringing a hand up to press at the corner of his own mouth.

“The longing,” he finally says. He gazes back at him with a face that could read as bored, but Jungkook can tell it’s just patience radiating off of him. 

“What longing?” Jungkook asks, playing dumb even though he knows it’s fruitless as he returns his attention to the clean plate in his hands, continuing to scrub it with abandon.

“If I’m prying too much, let me know,” Yoongi says softly, barely moving an inch as he stares at Jungkook’s side profile. “I know it can be a bit much to have someone rifling through your emotions,” Yoongi huffs. “So, if you’d prefer that I act like I don’t feel it, just say the word and the topic is closed.”

Jungkook glances sideways at him, wondering if he should take the out, opening and closing his mouth a few times. He lets out a slow breath, allowing the air to whistle through his teeth on the long exhale.

“But,” Yoongi says, drawing out the last syllable a little bit to get Jungkook’s attention. “If you’d like to discuss it, in a safe place,” he waves a hand between them, “then I’m all ears.”

Jungkook squirms where he stands, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his neck as if preparing to enter some sort of battle.

“I don’t not want to discuss it,” Jungkook says quietly. “I just don’t really know where to begin.”

“Try starting at the beginning,” Yoongi says simply, shrugging his shoulders a little bit. Jungkook huffs, drying his hands on the back of his pants and leaning against the counter to observe Yoongi. When it’s clear he doesn’t have anything to offer, Yoongi continues.

“I can feel it very distinctly when we’re touching each other,” Yoongi says slowly. “You know how I like to keep these feelings under wraps. I don’t like to meddle.” He blinks back at Jungkook purposefully. “But the feeling was so strong that it got through my barriers.” Yoongi dips his head a little bit in a show of silent apology.

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathes out. “Sometimes, when I see you guys interacting,” he swallows, darting his eyes around the room. “Or, you know, touching ,” he laughs a little to himself, feeling silly. “I can’t help but wish that I was a part of it,” he clears his throat. “Somehow.”

“You could be,” Yoongi says, sweeping his gaze up and down Jungkook’s body, and Jungkook feels his eyes like a torch on his skin, charring him until he’s shriveled into nothing but a pile of ash.

“Could I?” he asks, carefully, refusing to meet Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi huffs out a silent laugh, finally getting up from the table and walking over to place a grounding palm on the back of Jungkook’s neck. He squeezes just slightly before he leans down to his ear –

“Think on it,” he whispers. “Think about what you want, and then,” he pauses and Jungkook feels his body tip forward in anticipation. “I know it might sound crazy,” Yoongi huffs out a laugh and Jungkook shivers at the puff of hot air that lands on his neck –

“But all you have to do is ask for it.” 

Chapter Text

Jungkook dreams of the sunflower field, in full bloom despite the harsh bite of the air and the frost painted across their bright yellow petals. He reaches a finger out to break off a piece of ice to hold it up in front of his eye, and he can almost swear that he hears a sigh of relief from the flower. The ice is molded to the curve of the petal it once was attached to, and when Jungkook looks through the shard, the world around him warps with it. The horizon bends downward at an unnatural angle and the field of flowers arch around him, swaying dangerously in the winter breeze. 

Jungkook blinks away from the ice as it starts to melt in his hands, following the water droplets as they travel down his knuckles and pool in the webbings of his fingers. He wiggles around just to watch the droplets tremble, but his hand feels odd. Lighter than usual, maybe. He flexes his fingers for a second or two before he realizes what’s wrong.

His finger is completely bare with no ring in sight.

He gasps, breath escaping him in a dense fog as he drops the shard of ice. It shatters at his feet, louder than it should against the dirt ground and –

Jungkook jolts up in bed, breathing heavily, but he doesn’t have time to contemplate the dream much further. He looks around him wildly, vision completely shrouded in yellows, whites, pinks and blues.

The dream leaves him in wisps as he curiously looks around at the new additions. At some point in the night, it seems that someone (and Jungkook is willing to bet it was Namjoon) decided to harvest all of the forget-me-nots and station them meticulously around his room. 

They’re laid out across his lap, tied to the rafters and littered across the floor. Jungkook slowly slides his legs out from under the covers, careful not to disturb the flowers as he goes to open the door in the floor, gently pushing aside the blooms covering the handle.

“Namjoon-hyung?” he calls out and immediately hears him bounding down the hallway.

“You’re awake!” Namjoon responds brightly, beaming up at him from the bottom of the ladder.

“I’m assuming the flowers were your doing?” Jungkook says, smiling shyly as Namjoon lumbers up the rungs to reach Jungkook’s room.

“Yeah, I thought I’d try out something just in case,” he says, panting a bit as he makes it up the ladder and positioning himself on a bare section of Jungkook’s floor, careful not to crush any of the flowers.

“When did you have the time?” Jungkook asks, noticing even more stems poking out of the drawers of his dresser.

“I forgot it was the harvest moon last night,” Namjoon says, fingers lazily rearranging the flowers on the floor in front of him. “It might be a bit superstitious, but it always feels like my magic is more in tune with the Earth when it's a full moon,” he shrugs a little embarrassed.

“So you went out and got all of these in the middle of the night?” Jungkook asks, a little baffled as Namjoon nods back eagerly.

“I didn’t want to miss the chance and have to wait a whole month for it to feel right again,” Namjoon says. “My magic woke me up at around three this morning and something just clicked that it was time.”

“And this was in your research then?” Jungkook asks, waving a hand around the room.

“It was something about influencing dreams,” Namjoon says and Jungkook’s stomach drops. The events of the night before come back to him slowly, small tendrils of awareness digging through the recesses of his brain. “I think from your face I can tell that something might have worked,” Namjoon says slowly, fingers pausing against the petals that he’s been caressing during this whole conversation. “Did you remember something, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook immediately grabs at his own hand to feel the cool metal of his ring, a stark contrast to his overheated skin. He clears his throat, a little embarrassed when he sees Namjoon’s eyes tracking the movement of his fingers fidgeting with the band. Jungkook clenches his eyes shut to try to drag the dream back to the forefront of his mind, balling his hand into a fist just to feel the bite of the ring as it strains against his own skin.

“How am I supposed to know if it worked?” Jungkook replies a little bitterly, letting out a long sigh. “It just felt like a super-realistic dream at the time,” Jungkook says, a little gentler as Namjoon smiles back at him sadly. “I don’t know if it was a memory or not.”

“Do you mind…” Namjoon clicks his tongue as if searching for the correct ending of his sentence. “Is it too personal to tell me about it? Your dream?”

“It’s not that interesting,” Jungkook shrugs. “None of you were in it so I don’t think you’d be able to tell me if it actually happened or not.” Namjoon’s shoulders noticeably sag at the words.

“Could you tell me anyway?” he asks. “It’s okay if it’s personal,” he says quickly. “I just wonder if there’s a hint somewhere that we’re missing.”

“I don’t think it’s personal,” Jungkook says slowly, but the way his heart races as he continues to stroke over the ring on his finger tells a different story. “I was in the sunflower field and it was winter, or just very cold,” he gathers his knees up and hugs them to his chest as he tries to parse out the dream. “I broke off a piece of ice from one of the petals and was looking through it, and I noticed that I wasn’t wearing my ring.” Jungkook shrugs a little helplessly, absentmindedly playing with the metal on his finger again.

“Is that it?” Namjoon nudges him, gently.

“That's all I can remember,” Jungkook nods. “I woke up because I didn’t know where the ring was and I think it spooked me.”

“Huh,” Namjoon says, eyebrows bunching together. “You mentioned before that the sunflowers were dead when you rode by on the train?”

“Yeah, because it was winter,” Jungkook nods. “I know you said they’re always in bloom, but I swear they were dead,” Jungkook says, sniffing. “All brown and weepy.”

“No, I believe you,” Namjoon says, shaking his head. “I just wonder if it’s significant that in your dream they were alive even though it was cold.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook says slowly. “I seem to be seeing the sunflowers a lot these days.”

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head to the side.

“They were behind the curtain at the shop too,” he shrugs. “I don’t know what any of it means.”

“Huh,” Namjoon says, but he doesn’t say more and Jungkook eyes him warily.

“I’m assuming you have your theories,” he says, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Nothing concrete yet, but it is interesting,” Namjoon concedes.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs, opting not to press any further. “What about the ring, though?”

“If it is an actual memory, then it would make sense that you weren’t wearing it,” Namjoon says. “You didn’t have your ring back then.”

“If it is a memory, it doesn’t really give me a lot of information,” Jungkook huffs. 

Namjoon hums in response, chewing on his lips for a few moments before letting out a slow breath.

“Well, is it okay if I leave some of these flowers here?” he asks hopefully. “Just in case?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jungkook shrugs, glancing around at them. “Are they okay being here and not in the garden?” he asks quietly, eyes sliding slowly over the bundles.

“They can still hear you,” Namjoon says back, just as quietly, chuckling softly. “But yes, they sound just as chipper here as they were outside,” Namjoon smiles brightly. “I think they like to feel useful.”

Jungkook nods and pretends not to hear it when Namjoon ducks low to the ground, putting his lips right up to the petals of one of the flowers, whispering praises and thanks for all of their hard work.

“Can I come with you to the shop today, hyung?” Jungkook asks, hands hovering just over Jin’s shoulders, not quite brave enough to seek out the contact that he so desperately craves. 

“Of course, you’re always welcome,” Jin says, eyes focused on the dishes as Jungkook’s hands continue to hang awkwardly in the air between them. Yoongi eyes him knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it, gently placing his empty mug in the sink and brushing a kiss across Jin’s cheekbone instead. 

Jungkook colors a little at the display, hands dropping limply at his sides until Yoongi comes up close to him as well. Jungkook pauses, holding his breath as he waits for the pressure of Yoongi’s lips against his own skin, hoping for it even, but the feeling never comes. He scrunches his nose a little when he instead feels a puff of hot air followed by the sound of Yoongi’s breathy laughter. 

“Have a good day, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says, so close that Jungkook would only have to sway forward on his toes to reach him. He hesitates for too long, however, and Yoongi is already pulling away and heading out the door.

“Any particular reason you wanted to come along,” Jin asks, aiming for casual as he leads Jungkook through the maze of trees. 

“Kind of,” Jungkook shrugs. “I think she was trying to tell me something last time,” he says, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Or maybe give me something?”

Jin hums, but makes no comment on whether he agrees or not.

“I just thought I’d try to give her another chance,” Jungkook says, letting out a long breath through his nose. “I got a little spooked last time, but I don’t think she was trying to scare me.”

“I think she has trouble relating to humans,” Jin says simply, jogging up the steps when they finally make it to the shop and Jungkook watches with bated breath as the building comes alive under his fingertips. “But I can tell she’s trying.”

“Me too,” Jungkook whispers, trailing behind Jin and immediately veering off between the bookshelves, hardly sparing the front counter a second glance.

He allows the shop to guide him through the aisles once again, feeling much less like an exposed wire this time. He vaguely registers the shelves passing by him as he goes deeper and deeper into the shop, only stopping when he reaches a wall. Jungkook pauses, looking over his shoulder, but the path he had taken is hazy, the lines of the shelves bending and contorting at odd angles.

Jungkook turns back around to look at the wall. It’s lined with various doorknobs of different sizes and shapes, but there are no doors to speak of. He racks his brain, wondering if he’s ever been able to find the end of the shop before. He’s always just been turned around and ended up right back at Jin’s counter. But even as he’s thinking it, he’s almost positive that this isn’t the end of the shop anyways, just the illusion of a back wall.

He rakes his eyes over the door handles, some shaped like animals, and others like hands, some made of metal, and others brightly colored ceramics with abstract patterns, but one in particular catches his eye. It’s made of copper, but intended to mimic a tree branch with woodgrain welded into the side and stubby leaves sprouting out in jagged notches. From it hangs a long, silver chain, and when Jungkook reaches up onto his tiptoes, it’s just within reach. He hooks his fingers through the end of the chain and jumps a little to unhook the other end from the handle. 

The chain is warm to the touch, almost too warm as he weaves it through his fingers, holding the metal up just to see how it catches the light. He keeps his eyes trained on it as he wanders back the way he came, hardly paying attention to what’s in front of him and just trusting that the shop will return him safely back to the counter.

Sure enough, when he looks back up from the necklace, Jin is in front of him, eyeing him a little suspiciously. He’s bathed in golden light and Jungkook blinks a little, glancing over his shoulder at the window to see that it’s almost time to close up shop.

“Another gift?” Jin asks, eyes flitting down to the chain dangling from Jungkook’s fingers.

“It seems so,” Jungkook hums, slipping the ring off of his finger and looping it through the end of the chain. He holds the two ends of the necklace out to Jin and turns around so he can clasp it together behind Jungkook’s neck.

He shivers at the feeling of Jin’s fingertips brushing lightly against his skin, but is immediately distracted when the ring settles against his chest. He sucks in a deep breath, suppressing a flinch from how warm the metal is, even through the layer of his shirt. He glances down, halfway expecting to see a circular scorch mark in the fabric.

“Now you all will be right next to my heart,” Jungkook shrugs, smiling shyly. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Jin whispers. “You do realize you’re going to have to say that again when we get home so everyone else can hear it, too.”

Jungkook laughs, but doesn’t disagree, digging deep for what little courage he has stored up to grab at Jin’s hand and place it over the ring where it lies next to his heart.

“It’s warm isn’t it?” Jungkook asks, looking up at Jin expectantly.

“Yeah,” Jin swallows, curling his fingers toward Jungkook and all but digging his nails into his chest. “Very warm.”

He says it with such conviction that Jungkook wonders if they’re still talking about the ring, or the warmth of his own skin beneath Jin’s palm, or maybe even the warmth of his own heart, beating so fast it’s almost a purr against his ribcage.

“Ready to head home?”

Jungkook jumps whirling around at the sound of Hoseok’s voice, immediately missing the contact of Jin’s hand on his chest as he pulls away from him.

“Yeah, we’re pretty much done here,” Jin agrees, voice sounding just as breathless as Jungkook feels. Hoseok eyes them both suspiciously. “No customers today,” Jin says, voice much steadier than before as he walks around the counter.

Jungkook brings his own hand up to press against the ring laying against his sternum, trying to replicate the same pressure he felt from Jin’s palm.

While Hoseok starts talking to Jin about the new potions he has for the shop, Jungkook feels himself drifting again, pulled back toward the shelves. She doesn’t take him too far though, with Jin and Hoseok still within sight, he finds himself in front of a shelf littered with snow globes, wood bowing underneath their combined weight. 

Jungkook tilts his head, bringing up a tentative hand to tap at the glass of the one towards the back of the shelf. It’s the only one that doesn’t have snow particles swirling inside. Instead it’s filled with a shimmering, silver liquid, swirling constantly despite the stillness of the store. 

Jungkook squints to see inside, just barely making out the forms of a little house, covered by a tall tree overridden with purple blooms. Jungkook leans forward even further, head almost completely inside the shelf as he tries to see better. There’s people playing in the yard, and sitting in the branches of the tree, and even leaning out of the windows of the house. Jungkook counts seven of them in his head, absentmindedly.

“Have you noticed how the shop acts around you?” Hoseok asks and Jungkook jumps, just barely stopping himself from hitting his head as he pulls away from the shelf. He looks back at Jin and Hoseok, but he can’t seem to part from the snowglobes just yet, dreamily trailing his fingers along the woodgrain of the shelf.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, tapping his knuckles against the wood just to hear the hollow sound echo between them.

“It’s like she’s showing off for you or something,” Hoseok says, pointing to the shelf that Jungkook is currently touching. Jungkook sweeps his gaze over the snow globes once again, but they’re not as calm as they were before, fake snow swirling in circles so quickly that the globes are rattling against one another, as if their contents were trying to escape.

Jungkook yanks his hand away from the wood and it immediately quiets down to a dull hum. He looks back at Hoseok who just raises an eyebrow back at him.

“She does the same thing for Jin-hyung,” Jungkook defends, huffing a little as he tucks his hands into his pockets, trying to keep himself from making anymore contact with the shelves.

“Not like she does for you, trust me,” Hoseok says, smiling a little. “I wonder if she has a crush on you,” he whispers, leaning forward a little conspiratorially.

“Shut up,” Jungkook flushes, finally wandering back over to the pair and leaning a hip against the counter.

“I mean look at you,” Jin says. “She never stood a chance.” Jungkook ducks his face to hide the bright red color that’s taking over his features.

“We’ll have to do a better job of letting her know that you’re ours,” Hoseok laughs. “We can’t let her get any funny ideas.”

“Cut it out,” Jungkook mumbles, but he can’t help the way his cheeks bunch up into a shy smile as he slumps over the counter in defeat. “Did you ever consider that maybe I like her more than you guys?” Jungkook asks, cheekily, slitting his eyes open as Hoseok’s jaw drops dramatically.

“You take that back right now?” he says, pinching Jungkook’s side. 

“Whatever you think she can provide for you, we can do a million times better,” Jin huffs out.

“Oh, yeah?” Jungkook laughs, squirming away from Hoseok’s fingers as they dig between his ribs. “Prove it.”

“You’re here later than usual,” Jimin’s voice trickles in as he steps through the front door, pausing as he surveys the scene in front of him. “What’s so funny?”

“We were just telling him how the shop seems to have a crush on him,” Hoseok sighs. “It’s making me a little jealous.”

“Of the shop or of Jungkook?” Jimin needles, smirking and bumping his hip against Hoseok’s.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook flushes, waving a hand at them. “Let’s stop, I feel like she’s listening to us.”

“Oh, she definitely is,” Jin assures, and Jungkook sighs in response, rolling his head to get some of the tension out of his shoulders.

“Have you ever considered that it’s actually Jin-hyung that has a crush on me?” Jungkook teases. “And the shop is just being influenced to show off for me because of your magic?”

“Oh, now that is an interesting theory!” Jimin cackles, leaning further into Hoseok’s side as Jin sputters in shock.

“Well,” Jin says, sniffing haughtily. “Could you really blame me?”

“No,” Jungkook says quietly, looping his finger through the ring around his neck and tugging lightly. “I don’t think I could.”

That night, Namjoon sets a small teacup on the coffee table in front of Jungkook. The cup is warm to the touch and the liquid inside is a pale, golden color. If Jungkook looks close enough, he can see what looks like bits of leaves floating around in it.

“Try some,” Namjoon urges, pushing the teacup forward so abruptly that it rattles a little against the small china plate that it rests on.

“Careful, Joon-ah,” Yoongi chides, not even looking up from the book perched in his lap.

“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon apologizes, laying a large hand on Yoongi’s thigh for a moment before turning back to Jungkook. “Drink.”

“Is it poison?” Jungkook asks, warily, grabbing the small handle between his pointer finger and thumb. Namjoon shoots him a baleful look while Yoongi snorts, turning a page that Jungkook’s almost positive he hasn’t read from how much he’s eavesdropping.

“I made some semblance of a tea out of the forget-me-nots,” Namjoon explains, exasperated. “Try a sip.”

Jungkook sniffs the liquid experimentally, but it’s very mild and mostly just smells of hot water. He sips it gently, wrinkling his nose.

“Bad?” Namjoon asks, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and Jungkook sees that Yoongi has finally lifted his head up from his book, smirking at Jungkook’s reaction.

“It’s not… bad per say,” Jungkook says hesitantly. “It’s just a little bitter, I guess.”

“Just because you’re making him a medicinal tea doesn’t mean he can’t have honey or something in it,” Yoongi snorts, and as if on cue Hoseok enters the room with a tray topped with a pot of honey and a bowl full of sugar cubes.

“I saw him messing around with flowers and hot water in the kitchen,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes and placing the tray gently on the coffee table. “I’m assuming it tastes very much like dirt.” 

Yoongi laughs out loud leaning into Namjoon’s side while Namjoon grumbles to himself, but still gathers Yoongi against his chest, shoving his face into the back of his neck to hide.

“Ah, Joon-ah,” Hoseok says, bringing a hand up to sweep through his bangs. “It’s very nice of you, don’t get me wrong,” he coos. “Jungkook just deserves a little something sweet, don’t you agree?”

Jungkook colors, ducking his head to dump some sugar and honey into his cup, stirring it more aggressively than he means to while Yoongi shoots him a look.

“What’s this?” Jungkook asks, poking at a small gravy boat, about the size of a shot glass, that Hoseok has placed next to the sugar cubes.

“It’s the elixir I was making earlier,” Hoseok shrugs. “You don’t have to use it but if you’d like to.”

“For my memory?” Jungkook asks, picking it up and sniffing the contents. It’s herbal smelling, but sweeter than he would have expected.

“For brain health,” Hoseok corrects gently.

“How much?” Jungkook asks, swishing it around in its container.

“The full cup is a dose, but you can just use a little if you want,” Hoseok says. “Or none at all.”

Jungkook hums before dumping the full container into his tea cup. It’s more viscous than he thought it would be and he has to hold it upside down for a while before it’s completely emptied.

“Better?” Namjoon asks, hopefully when Jungkook takes another sip. He can distinctly taste the rosemary now from Hoseok’s own potion.

“Better,” he nods, hesitating for just a second. “Do I have to finish the whole cup?”

Namjoon sighs, rolling his eyes, while the others dissolve into more fits of laughter.

“I’m just kidding,” Jungkook assures, grinning widely. “I’ll drink the cup for you, hyung.”

“You spoil me, Jungkook-ah.”

That night, he dreams that he’s laying on his back outside of the house. His head is pillowed on someone’s stomach, jostling him up and down as they laugh at something that Jungkook can’t see. He squints up at the sky, but his vision is obscured by purple blooms, hanging from a tree just low enough that when Jungkook kicks his foot up, he can make contact with the branch. It shakes violently when he does and Jungkook watches as some of the petals shake off and float to the ground, almost as if in slow motion.

“Jungkook-ah,” he hears from up in the tree, and he notices Namjoon sitting on one of the branches, legs swinging beneath him with abandon. “No kicking the branches,” he scolds. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

Jungkook tries to apologize but his tongue is heavy in his mouth, too thick to form actual words, so he swallows them down. He rolls his head backwards instead to look at the person he’s laying on.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt her, Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung says, brushing his fingers lightly through the tips of Jungkook’s hair where the strands are splayed out across Taehyung’s stomach.

Jungkook hums in response, the only noise he seems to be able to make. The sound of creaking startles him into sitting up, looking toward the house to see a window opening and Yoongi leaning out over the sill.

“It’s a gloomy day isn’t it?” he asks and Jungkook looks around him, only just now noticing the grey, shimmery clouds that surround them, almost too low in the sky to be natural.

“The sun should come out soon enough,” Hoseok calls back, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see him sprawled out in the garden, arms hooked around Jin and Jimin’s elbows.

Jungkook turns to look out into the forest, but it’s impossible to see through the low-hanging clouds. He squints before finally getting to his feet and walking in the direction of the shop.

“Be careful, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi calls after him, but his words already sound muffled as Jungkook continues to venture through the dark grey fog. He’s only able to make it a few meters before he runs into something, an invisible wall of some kind. He drags his hand across it, listening to the way his skin squeaks along the surface.

Glass? Jungkook thinks to himself, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear his vision. He presses his cheek against the surface and the shop materializes in front of him, but it’s huge, as if Jungkook has been shrunk down to the size of a doll.

He hears rattling and whips his head to look to the side, realizing with a start that he’s surrounded by giant snow globes, jumping haphazardly along the wooden shelf and knocking against the glass that Jungkook is pressed against.

A particularly violent crash splinters the glass in front of him and Jungkook watches as the crack spiders up and over his head. He takes a hurried step back, but before it can fully shatter —

His eyes wrench open. 

He’s sweating against his sheets, gasping as he stares up, wide-eyed at the forget-me-nots dangling innocently above his head.

“What the hell was that?” he asks them, rubbing his throat which is now so dry that it feels like sandpaper whenever he swallows. He wonders vaguely if he had been screaming, but he figures someone would have woken him up a lot earlier if he had been. He forces himself to relax against the sheets, calming his breathing as he attempts to work up enough saliva to coat his throat once more.

Once his heart has finally returned to a normal rate, he pushes himself up onto wobbly legs and ventures downstairs for a cup of water. The sun isn’t quite up yet, but it’s close enough to morning that Jungkook’s sure he won’t be sleeping anymore tonight.

He tiptoes down the stairs, skipping over the step that creaks just a little too loud and fills a cup up in the kitchen sink.

“Are you alright?”

Jungkook jumps, sloshing some of the water down his chin as he turns to look at Yoongi, who is blinking sleepily at him from the doorway.

“I’m fine,” he says, wiping his chin off on the back of his hand.

“You’re not usually up this early,” Yoongi says, plopping into a chair at the kitchen table and laying his cheek against the wood. 

“I had a dream,” Jungkook shrugs, chugging the rest of his glass before turning to fill it up in the sink again.

“A dream?” Yoongi asks gently, eyes sharply following Jungkook’s movements before he traces his finger along the edge of the table, tapping once experimentally. Yoongi sits up fully then, raising his eyebrows at Jungkook until he nods his permission, and Yoongi starts tapping more rhythmically against the wood.

Jungkook immediately feels his shoulders relax, taking one final gulp of water before placing the glass down next to the sink.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yoongi asks, blinking back at him calmly, fingers never faltering in their rhythm.

“I was stuck in a snow globe,” Jungkook says. “We all were.”

“A snow globe?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah,” Jungkook swallows, pushing away from the counter to collapse into the chair opposite Yoongi. “I saw it at the shop the other day.” he shrugs. “We were all at the house under a purple tree, we were just shrunken down to fit inside a snow globe.”

“A purple tree?” Yoongi asks, the tapping stutters for just a moment, and Jungkook glances down to Yoongi’s fingers, but they’ve already started up the steady tempo once again. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, eyeing him wearily. “Not a dream?”

“Well, the snow globe is,” Yoongi huffs. “But last time you were here, it was warm enough for the tree out front to bloom.”

“Purple flowers, I’m assuming,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes.

“Purple flowers,” Yoongi agrees.

“Does that mean that Namjoon’s disgusting tea is working, then?” Jungkook asks, aiming for a joke but can’t seem to keep the sliver of hope from his voice.

“Maybe,” Yoongi whispers, noncommittal. “Or Hoseok’s potion.” He smiles wickedly then. “You should tell them about the dream,” he says. “Don’t you think it’d be fun to watch them argue over whose magic helped you the most.”

Jungkook chuckles a little, leaning his head forward to rest against the tabletop.

“It wasn’t scary was it?” Yoongi asks, softer now, and Jungkook hears the tapping get louder as it echoes through the wood underneath his ear.

“Not scary necessarily,” Jungkook replies, sighing. “A little overwhelming, maybe.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, sympathetically. “You don’t have to keep drinking the tea if you don’t want to,” he says. “It doesn’t matter to us if you get your memory back,” his voice dips down even quieter. “It seems to matter to you though.”

“It does,” Jungkook says, through gritted teeth. “It shouldn’t matter, but it does.”

The tapping stops and Jungkook finally picks his head up off of the table.

“I’ll keep drinking the tea,” he says, resolutely.

“And will you tell us about your dreams?” Yoongi asks, hopeful.

“I will,” Jungkook promises.

So every night, Jungkook dutifully drinks his cup of forget-me-not tea while he sits on the couch surrounded by all of his hyungs. He goes up to his attic room, and watches the forget-me-nots as they swing from the rafters, pushed by an invisible breeze, and the movement lulls Jungkook into a deep sleep.

His dreams are vivid each night, and so realistic that Jungkook feels anything but rested when he wakes up, having lived an entire life behind his closed eyelids.

Each morning, over breakfast, he tells the others about his dreams. Most of them are mundane, just snippets of conversations or glimpses of scenes that feel like they’re out of a movie. If it’s a memory, the others are quick to let him know and with each new thing he remembers, he sees their eyes get brighter, shimmering with some semblance of hope.

He often dreams about the train station, but in his dreams, it’s more alive than he’s used to seeing it. It glows gold, bright despite there being no discernible light source in sight. In his dreams, all of the sunflowers are pointed toward the train station, as if they were facing the sun itself, petals fluttering as if they were waving to Jungkook. 

In some dreams he’s alone at the station, but in others Jimin and Taehyung have their pinkies linked with his own, racing him through the sunflower field. Or Namjoon and Yoongi shyly hovering a hand over the small of his back, guiding him toward the edge of the forest. Or Jin and Hoseok hooking their arms through his elbows, tugging him down the steps of the platform.

“We used to pick you up from the train station,” Taehyung says around a mouthful of food. “After maybe your fifth time returning, it seemed like you were actually going to be a constant in our lives.” Jungkook smiles, but it’s strained when he thinks about how he just stopped showing up one day, unknowingly.

“So the tea is working then,” Jungkook says.

“Maybe,” Namjoon shrugs. “Or you’re just hoping it does and it’s allowing you to remember more.”

“No, I think it’s the tea,” Jungkook says, smiling widely at Namjoon as he huffs and ducks his head down to his own plate.

Some of his dreams, however, are just dreams. He’ll recite them back to the others but they have no recollection of any of it happening. Jungkook starts to think that these are just small kernels of wants, living deep within his chest.

Despite the dreams though, Jungkook thinks the tea is acting much like how the moon dust did. Even if he doesn’t have specific memories floating up to the surface, when he looks at the others they just feel more familiar. He feels like he’s re-learning them in his sleep, their mannerisms, their tones, their expressions.

And to be fair, Jungkook has been slowly re-learning them in all the months he’s been here since that one day the train left him behind, but it feels bigger now. More amplified. Like something so precious that Jungkook has to hold it tight to his chest to make sure it doesn’t escape his grasp again.

For the first night in what feels like ages, Jungkook can’t sleep.

He lies awake, thinking about the forest beyond the shimmery curtain, wondering what he’s missing. There’s a wisp of a thought, as if the answer is right there out of reach, but he can’t seem to grab hold of it, like swiping his hands through a waterfall.

He rolls over, snuggling his head further under the covers and wrapping his fingers securely around the ring hanging from his neck. It’s colder than usual and it makes him feel uneasy. He presses it more firmly against his chest, attempting to warm it up with his own body heat.

He huffs a little, frustrated, and before he fully realizes what he’s doing, he’s swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and descending as quietly as he can down the ladder to his room. He creeps down the hall to the navy door and holds a hand up to knock. He looks up and down the hall, listening out for any sound, but it stays silent, nothing but the groans of an old house settling into the Earth. He opts instead to push the door open just a crack, afraid that the knock will disrupt the stillness of the house.

He sees a tuft of Namjoon’s hair sticking out of the top of the comforter, illuminated by the moon shining in through the window where the blinds are wide open. Jungkook’s heart clenches at the sight, but he creeps forward anyways until he reaches the foot of the bed.

“Hyung,” he whispers, and then a little louder when Namjoon doesn’t stir. “Hyung!”

Namjoon jolts a little in bed, peeking his head out to look back at Jungkook with puffy eyes, lids heavy with sleep.

“Jungkook-ah?” he croaks out, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “Is everything okay?” he asks, clearing his throat as he reaches over to his bedside table and yanks on the chain of the lamp, bathing the room in a warm glow.

“Everything’s fine,” Jungkook assures, joining Namjoon under the covers when he pats the spot next to him. He snuggles down into the bed and directs his gaze to the corner of the room, unable to focus with how cozy Namjoon looks freshly woken up. The bed is warm and Jungkook resists the urge to curl even further into his side and leech off of his body heat.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jungkook says simply, darting his eyes over to Namjoon as he hums sympathetically.

“Want to talk about it?” Namjoon asks. “Or did you just want to try to sleep here?”

“Maybe a little of both,” Jungkook shrugs, shrinking himself further under the covers. “You know the room downstairs that you said doesn’t belong to the house?” he asks, waiting for Namjoon’s hum of recognition and shivering when his fingers find the lobe of Jungkook’s ear, squeezing the flesh there comfortingly. He focuses on the gentle pressure as he continues. “I was wondering if you could… I don’t know, elaborate on it.”

“The room?” Namjoon asks. “Are you scared of something, Jungkook-ah?”

“Not scared,” Jungkook shakes his head, gently so as not to dislodge Namjoon’s fingers. “I just can’t stop thinking about the curtain.”

“The curtain?” Namjoon asks.

“It’s the same one that was in the shop that one day,” Jungkook says, chewing on his lip and the thought that he’d been chasing after all night bubbles to the surface. “And I think it was the same material that was inside of the snow globe.”

“The snow globe that you had a dream about?” Namjoon clarifies and Jungkook nods. “So you think that the room is somehow connected to what the shop is trying to tell you? Connected to your memories?”

“I think so,” Jungkook whispers, and Namjoon’s fingers pause. Jungkook can’t stop the whine before it climbs out of his throat, curling into Namjoon’s side and tilting his chin up to push his ear further into Namjoon’s hold. Namjoon snorts but obliges, slowly starting up the gentle massage again.

“When did it show up?” Jungkook asks.

“I’m not sure,” Namjoon sighs, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Sometime in the last year, I suppose.” He slides himself further into the covers, curling himself more firmly around Jungkook’s form. “It just showed up one day and it didn’t feel ominous to me, just like a new odd addition, I suppose.”

“Was it before or after I came here the first time?” Jungkook asks.

“I guess after,” Namjoon says slowly. “After you stopped coming back.”

They sit there in silence for a few moments and Jungkook huffs, frustrated with himself.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” he says.

“But maybe it’s something,” Namjoon counters, finally releasing Jungkook’s earlobe to rake through the hair at the back of his head instead. “I’m sorry, I wish I had more answers for you, but I was never really bothered by the room’s arrival so I haven’t really given it much thought.”

“That’s okay,” Jungkook sighs. 

He reaches a hand between them to feel the ring against his chest, warm once again and Jungkook’s almost positive it’s because of Namjoon being so close, practically wrapped around him at this point. He absentmindedly reaches his pinky out gently toward Namjoon’s chest, petting along the nearly identical ring that hangs there.

“Are you spending the night?” Namjoon asks after the silence drags on for too long.

“Can I?” Jungkook says and Namjoon huffs in response, flicking off the light and bundling Jungkook more securely in the blankets.

“Goodnight, Jungkook-ah,” he says. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams,” Jungkook echoes back, blinking repeatedly until his eyes adjust to the dark, tracing the outline of Namjoon’s profile.

“I can tell you’re not trying to sleep,” Namjoon deadpans.

“I am trying,” Jungkook pouts, snuggling further into the blankets. Namjoon flips over to stare at him evenly.

“Something else on your mind?” he prods.

“Not really,” Jungkook hedges, shrinking himself further into the mattress.

“But…” Namjoon prompts, poking at Jungkook’s cheek.

“But this is the first time in a while that I’ve slept without the forget-me-nots,” Jungkook shrugs, dragging the covers up and down with the movement.

Namjoon doesn’t respond immediately and Jungkook opts instead to focus on the sound of his breathing, almost letting the rhythm of it carry him off to sleep, before Namjoon suddenly sits up and gets out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asks, alarmed and resisting the urge to reach his hands out to him.

“I’ll be right back,” Namjoon promises. Jungkook blinks a little dumbly as he listens to Namjoon’s soft footsteps leave the room and fade down the hallway. He snuggles into Namjoon’s side of the bed a little further, pulled in by the warmth leftover from his body heat.

Namjoon returns only a few minutes later with a bouquet of forget-me-nots.

“I grabbed some off of the floor,” he grunts, climbing back into bed and arranging the flowers between their two pillows.

“You didn’t have to,” Jungkook says quietly, laying a hand between them so just the tips of his fingers brush against the stems.

“I know I didn’t,” Namjoon huffs, dragging the blankets up under his chin. “Goodnight, Jungkook-ah.”

“Goodnight, Namjoon-hyung.”

He doesn’t dream that night, but he feels more rested than he has in a while. He stretches, pointing his toes underneath the covers and reaching an idle hand out in search of Namjoon’s skin.

“Sleep well?” he grumbles, allowing Jungkook to link their fingers together but refusing to open his eyes, snuggling further into the pillow.

“Thanks to you,” Jungkook teases, tugging his arm to get him to sit up. “Come on, it’s breakfast time, hyung.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” Namjoon mumbles through a yawn, going easily with Jungkook into the hallway.

He closes the door behind them, pausing when he sees Yoongi eyeing them from the bathroom doorway.

“Was it a good night?” Yoongi asks around a mouthful of toothpaste, eyebrows raising. 

“The best,” Jungkook replies, blinking innocently as Hoseok peeks his head out from the shower curtain, just behind Yoongi.

“Why didn’t you tell me I missed a sleepover?” he cackles, swiping the water droplets as they catch on his eyelashes. “I would have loved to join.”

“We’re going to breakfast,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, pulling Jungkook toward the stairs.

“You can join next time, hyungs!” Jungkook calls over his shoulder, giggling as he follows Namjoon toward the kitchen.

He’s been wandering the house all day, already regretting not accompanying Jin to the shop. He keeps passing by the room that doesn’t belong to the house, but he can’t bring himself to go inside, just continues to pace the hallway.

He sighs, shaking his head a little as he changes directions, bounding up the steps instead. He pauses at the top though, eyes traveling to the yellow door down the hall where peals of laughter are leaking through the gaps in the frame. 

“You can join them, you know.”

Jungkook colors turning to look at Hoseok, who is looking up at him from the bottom of the steps and watching Jungkook with a smirk on his face.

“I promise you they won’t mind the company,” he says, leaning against the banister.

“I don’t really need them for anything though,” Jungkook mumbles, but he steps off of the steps all the same, sliding a bit further down the hall and looking to Hoseok for encouragement.

“You don’t have to need them for something to visit,” Hoseok shrugs, giggling a little. “Maybe you just need them for company.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathes. “Thank you, hyung,” he says before finally making his way down the hall. He doesn’t let himself think any longer before immediately knocking on the yellow door, ignoring the tinkling of Hoseok’s laughter as it floats up the stairs.

“Jungkook-ah!” Jimin yells, a wide smile spreading across his face as he circles his fingers around Jungkook’s wrist. “Come on in, you can join Taehyung on the bed,” he says, pushing him gently to the mattress and closing the door behind him. “What can we do for you?”

“Nothing, I just heard you guys laughing and wanted to… visit,” he says, ducking his head to hide his smile.

“Even better,” Taehyung laughs, patting Jungkook’s back lightly as Jimin joins them on the bed, curling onto his side. Taehyung and Jimin continue their conversation and Jungkook is barely following along, content to just watch them interact. He rubs his chest, feeling that familiar burning beneath his ribs while his eyes are transfixed on the casual touches and adoring looks shared between them.

“Everything okay, Jungkook-ah?” Jimin asks softly, and Jungkook blinks back to himself, finding that both of their gazes are now turned on him.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook says on instinct but his shoulders sag at the way Jimin lifts an eyebrow. “I’m just thinking about something Yoongi said.” He pushes his lips out a little as he rolls his shoulders back, attempting to release some of the tension in his body.

“What did he say?” Jimin asks gently, hand sliding casually across the comforter toward Jungkook, an offering of some kind that Jungkook is too afraid to take.

“He said he could feel… yearning from me,” Jungkook says quietly, folding his knees up under his chin, eyes trained on Jimin’s fingers where they’re spread against the comforter between them.

“Yearning?” Jimin asks, eyes sliding sideways to Taehyung. There’s a silent conversation that happens there, that only serves to make the burning in Jungkook’s chest intensify. 

“Did he say what for?” Taehyung asks.

“For you guys, I think,” Jungkook mumbles, hiding his face in his knees.

“For us?” Jimin asks, reaching a hand out to wrap gently around Jungkook’s ankle, thumb rubbing against the bone that juts out there. “But you already have us?”

“Not in the same way, though,” Jungkook mumbles, lifting his head up to look back at them.

“What did Yoongi say about it?” Taehyung asks then, cocking his head to the side. “About how you’re feeling.”

“I’m embarrassed,” Jungkook groans, flopping over onto the covers while Jimin and Taehyung dissolve into laughter.

“You were the one that brought it up!” Jimin says, digging his toes into the front of Jungkook’s thigh.

“He said all I had to do was say the word, and I could have what I wanted,” Jungkook says, shrugging while the others catch their breath.

“Is this you asking for what you want?” Jimin asks, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“No!” Jungkook squawks, rolling over onto his front. “I don’t know,” he says, words muffled into the fabric below him.

Jungkook doesn’t have to look up to know that Jimin and Taehyung are exchanging loaded looks.

“Well, Yoongi is right,” Jimin says simply. “If ever you want something from us, all you have to do is ask.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook sighs, ignoring the way Taehyung and Jimin are now looking at each other with something much more than friendly and adoring. It’s something almost hungry.

That night he dreams of bodies pressed against his own, slick skin sliding against slick skin, heavy breathing against his neck, so warm that it leaves behind damp droplets of perspiration. He dreams of several sets of hands digging into his flesh and he arches into the contact, hoping it leaves behind bruises.

He wakes up panting, skin clinging to the sheets beneath him as he squirms against the mattress. He groans at the stickiness in his boxers, sliding gingerly out of bed and waddling over to his dresser for a change of clothes. He glares at the offending underwear as he chucks them to the floor, already plotting to wash them in the sink once everyone has gone out for the day.

He heaves a breath, running his fingers through the front of his hair and dislodging the strands from his sweaty forehead. He can already hear movement downstairs, so he quickly descends the ladder and hops into the shower before anyone can see how disheveled he looks.

When he finally makes it down to the kitchen table, he tucks into breakfast and freezes when he notices that all eyes are on him, waiting expectantly.

“What?” Jungkook asks, swallowing thickly and running his hands nervously through his hair. He wonders if it’s obvious what he dreamt about, glancing sideways at Yoongi, worried that he can feel it coming off of him in waves.

“Any more memories in your dreams last night?” Namjoon prompts lightly and Jungkook lets out a slow breath, berating himself. He’s been describing his dreams to them every morning since the forget-me-not tea started. Of course that’s what they’re waiting for.

Jungkook clears his throat glancing around the table.

“Nope,” he says, squirming in his seat as he takes a bite of his breakfast, averting his eyes from all of their prying gazes.

“Nothing?” Hoseok asks, shoulders sagging a little in defeat.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, but he can see in his peripheral vision the way that Yoongi narrows his eyes at him.

“You sure there was nothing?” Yoongi asks, leaning forward to try to catch Jungkook’s eye.

“I’m sure,” Jungkook says, voice cracking a little on the last syllable and he clears his throat again.

“Alright,” Jin says slowly, before everyone finally turns to their own food. Jungkook keeps his head down throughout the meal, but he can feel Yoongi’s presence next to him so intensely.

Once everyone’s finished and he’s helped clean the dishes, he bolts to the living room to wait for the house to clear out, settling himself against the cushions and taking a deep breath.

“Why are you nervous?” Yoongi asks without preamble and Jungkook jumps, sitting up on the couch and staring back at Yoongi in the doorway.

“I’m not nervous,” Jungkook argues, uselessly.

“Okay,” Yoongi says, eyebrows raising as he leans his hip against the door frame.

“I might have had a dream,” Jungkook says quickly, digging his fingertips into the tops of his own thighs.

“Oh?” Yoongi asks, looking supremely unsurprised as he crosses the room to sit in the chair opposite Jungkook.

“I know it was just a dream, though,” Jungkook rushes to explain. “It couldn’t be a memory so I didn’t see the point in bringing it up.”

“And why couldn’t it be a memory?” Yoongi asks, mouth pouting a bit as he tilts his head to the side, surveying Jungkook a little. Jungkook darts his eyes down to Yoongi’s fingers, but they stay motionless in his lap, no tapping rhythm to be found.

“It couldn’t be a memory because you said we were never…” Jungkook trails off a little helplessly before heaving a deep sigh and sagging back into the couch cushions. “You said we were never… intimate .” Jungkook cringes at the words as they leave his mouth, refusing to look back up at Yoongi.

“Ah,” Yoongi says, and Jungkook can hear the smile on Yoongi’s face through that one sound alone. He groans, turning his face into the cushions to hide the blush on his face.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Jungkook says, curling up into a ball.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Yoongi says, unable to keep the huff of laughter out of his voice. Jungkook turns his head just slightly and slits one eye open to glare back at Yoongi.

“I’m glad you’re at least having fun with this,” Jungkook grumbles.

“I find it pretty amusing, yeah,” Yoongi agrees, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Honestly, I think you should have detailed it to us like your other dreams,” Yoongi shrugs. “Sounds like a fun topic to discuss over breakfast.”

“You’re not funny,” Jungkook says, but he finally extracts himself from the couch cushions, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Seriously, though,” Yoongi says, ducking his head to catch Jungkook’s eyes. “You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he says. “I’m sure everyone in this house has had similar dreams about you.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook says, cupping his hands over his ears to block out anything else Yoongi has to say as he leaves the room.

“Need me to help you do a load of laundry?” Yoongi asks.

“No, I’ve got it, thanks!” Jungkook squawks, pushing past him and bolting up the stairs, steadfastly ignoring the breathy laughter that trails after him.

The next night, he thankfully doesn’t have another one of those dreams, but he does dream of the silver curtain again. 

He’s in the room that shouldn’t exist, and the curtain billows against the opposite wall. He turns to look over his shoulder to see the door shut tight behind him and he doesn’t have to try the handle to know that it won’t open. He turns back to the curtain, rippling with abandon despite the otherwise stillness of the room. It should be ominous with the way the room is hardly lit, but Jungkook doesn’t feel scared at all. He feels at ease, maybe. Like he’s where he needs to be.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, feeling more rested than he has in a while, but when he turns to look out of the window, it’s still dark outside. He squints at the moon peeking through the canopy of trees and leaking light in narrow streams down to the forest floor. He groans as he sits up in bed, weighing his options for a few moments, but the image of the curtain, and that overwhelming feeling of calm won’t leave him alone. 

He swings his legs over the side of the mattress and makes his way downstairs, tiptoeing as quietly as he can so he doesn’t wake anyone else up in the house. He creeps down the hallway and stops in front of the doorway, all of a sudden feeling a sense of foreboding that he can’t quite place.

Jungkook presses his ear against the wood paneling, but he doesn’t hear anything other than the humming of the blood rushing through his ears. He slowly twists the doorknob, cracking it open just enough to peer inside, wincing internally at the loud whine that the hinges make.

The room looks the same as it did the first time Jungkook saw it. Empty except for the curtain on the opposite end, covering a window that shows a place far away from here. He steps more fully into the room and debates on whether he feels safe enough to close the door behind him. He lets go of the door, but it seems that the room makes the choice for him. It slowly swings closed, latching as if the house itself was tilted on its axis.

Jungkook stares at the closed door for a few beats before turning back to the window. The curtains aren’t moving as erratically as they were in his dream, but they still ripple against the window pane, an ebb and flow facilitated by some unseen force. If Jungkook listens hard enough, he swears that he can hear the sound of waves crashing with each brush of the curtain against the wall.

He slowly walks forward, focusing on the sound of the wooden floorboards creaking underneath his weight, until he finally makes it across the room. The water is louder now, more pronounced, and Jungkook can’t help but reach a hand out to swipe it down the side of the curtain, but just as he makes contact –

“Jungkook-ah?”

He twirls around, hand swinging through the curtain as if it didn’t even exist. Hoseok stands in the doorway, leaning in toward Jungkook, but very pointedly not stepping over the threshold.

“What are you doing up?” he asks, reaching a hand into the room toward Jungkook and beckoning him closer.

“Sorry, I tried to be quiet,” Jungkook says, ignoring the way droplets of water from the curtain are now traveling down his hands and dripping off of his fingertips. He glances down to see grey water puddling at his feet, like a pool of mercury. 

“Don’t apologize,” Hoseok says, waving him forward again and this time Jungkook listens, crossing the room until Hoseok is just within reach. He brushes his fingertips against Hoseok’s palm, who immediately grabs hold and drags him out of the room, shutting the door succinctly behind him.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” Jungkook says quietly, rubbing his fingers across the back of Hoseok’s hand where their fingers are still interlaced. He watches, entranced, as the movement drags water across Hoseok’s skin as well. “I know that the room scares you.”

“Yeah, it does,” Hoseok nods, eyes watching Jungkook’s fingers as they dance across his hand. “But I was worried about you.”

“How did you even hear me get up?” Jungkook asks.

“I didn’t,” Hoseok shrugs, tugging a little on Jungkook’s hand to lead him toward the stairs. “I felt it.”

“You felt it?” Jungkook asks, not really all that surprised.

“There was some sort of tugging that pulled me awake,” Hoseok says. “And I just had a feeling that I wanted to find you.”

“Oh,” Jungkook whispers, allowing himself to be led upstairs. They pause in front of the ladder to his own room, hands swinging between their bodies.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Hoseok asks, aiming for casual but Jungkook can hear the hope laced between the syllables.

“Yes, please,” he says immediately, ducking his head down as he’s immediately dragged down the hallway to the bright red door.

Hoseok dives under the covers, lifting up the other side of the blanket for Jungkook to climb in. He stares at the silhouette of Hoseok’s body until his eyes adjust to the darkness and he’s just able to make out his features.

“You’re not going to ask me what I was doing?” Jungkook asks when it’s clear that Hoseok isn’t going to break the silence anytime soon.

“Do you want me to?” Hoseok replies. “I just figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know.”

“I dreamt about it,” Jungkook whispers, dragging the blankets up over his head. Hoseok giggles, ducking under the covers as well and using his finger to prop up the fabric between them.

“Do you think it means something?” Hoseok asks, snuggling closer and tucking the blanket around their bodies so that no cold air can reach them.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, nuzzling his face into the pillow. “But I keep seeing that curtain.” He blows a slow breath out of his nose. “I just want to remember you.”

Hoseok eyes him sympathetically for a few moments, finger poking rhythmically at the blanket above their heads so the fabric billows with each movement, almost like a dance.

“You like me well enough without remembering don’t you?” Hoseok asks after a few moments of silence.

“Of course I like you,” Jungkook rushes to say. “I like you all so much.”

“Then don’t beat yourself up about it,” Hoseok says, smiling softly. “If you remember us, you remember us, if you don’t, you’ll learn us all over again.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook sighs, not totally convinced, but he snuggles into the bed anyways.

He focuses on the steady breathing of Hoseok next to him, letting the tempo lull him off into a dreamless sleep.

“Headed out?” Jin asks, poking his head out of the kitchen doorway to eye Jungkook in the entryway.

“Yeah,” Jungkook answers, nodding his head a bit. He’s staring at the pile of shoes to the left of the door, his own boots scattered amongst the other pairs.

“Want some company?” Jin asks, but it seems like he already knows the answer, leaning back against the door jamb and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Not today,” Jungkook whispers, finally turning away from the pile of shoes and gently pulling open the front door.

“No shoes,” Jin says, nodding to himself as Jungkook steps out onto the front porch.

“No shoes,” Jungkook confirms, rolling his lips between his teeth.

“Well,” Jin sighs, rolling his shoulders back and heading back into the kitchen. “Good luck, Jungkook-ah.”

“Thank you, hyung!” Jungkook calls after him, before closing the front door and looking out into the forest. He gingerly walks down the stairs, careful not to scrape the soles of his bare feet against the stone there, before finally stepping down onto the forest floor. His shoulders immediately sag, as if a giant weight were lifted off of him. 

He takes a few steps forward, looking around and trying to decide on a direction. Soon enough he feels that familiar tugging around his midsection again, and it carries him off through the trees before he can even make the conscious decision to do so.

His chest grows warmer the further he ventures into the underbrush and he drags his hand up to press at the ring hanging against his chest. Jungkook can almost swear that the ring jolts at the first press of Jungkook’s fingers to the metal, before ultimately relaxing under his touch.

He doesn’t know how long he continues walking for, but he finds himself pausing at the base of a large oak tree. He glances up, but the canopy is so thick that he can barely see the hint of a sky overhead. There are no rays of sunshine sneaking through the cover of leaves, and yet the forest around him is bathed in a warm glow.

He looks down, wiggling his toes in the grass underneath him, watching the way it bends and creases underneath his weight. He crouches down, dragging his hands through the grass as if he were combing through his own hair, knotting his fingers between the blades. He rocks himself backwards until he’s laying flat, staring up at the branches of the large oak tree. He keeps one hand weaved between the blades of grass, and drags his other hand up to loop through the ring that lays searing hot against his sternum.

He breathes in deeply, until his skin stretches too tight around his chest, and then lets out a long exhale, counting the seconds until his lungs are completely empty once more. He repeats this exercise a few times until all of his limbs are completely loose. His body relaxes so completely, he can almost imagine that he starts sinking into the ground a little, entrusting himself completely to the whims of the forest around him.

The ring starts to vibrate lightly in his grip and Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, focusing on the feeling of the warm metal against his skin.

“Welcome!” Seokjin says from behind the counter. He looks different, younger maybe, his face a little fuller and his hair a little shorter than the Seokjin that Jungkook knows now. “Feel free to look around, I’m sure you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for.”

Jungkook finds himself unable to respond, but his feet bring him to the shelves on instinct, almost floating into the depths of the shop. He wanders for what feels like ages, as if in a daze, eyes skating hazily over the lines of jars and dodging expertly around stacks of books placed haphazardly on the floor. His vision is starting to blur the longer he drifts around, hardly taking in any of the shelves anymore, just going further and further back into the store until eventually, he finds himself in front of Seokjin again. He blinks once, twice, until the fog clears from his view and Seokjin comes sharply into focus.

“Did you find everything alright?” he asks. His smile falters slightly and he looks visibly confused as his eyes rake over Jungkook, searching.

Jungkook tilts his head a little before raising his hands up between them, flipping them back and forth, but his palms remain empty. He looks back up at Seokjin helplessly, still unable to speak.

“I guess not,” Seokjin mutters, eyes glued to Jungkook’s empty hands, still hanging uselessly in their air between them.

Jungkook drops his arms to his sides and backs away from the counter, suddenly unnerved and not quite remembering how he got there in the first place.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep looking?” Seokjin asks, voice rising a little in worry. “Don’t you feel a pull of some kind?” he asks, leaning further over the counter. “Anything?”

Jungkook shakes his head quickly, sparing Seokjin one last glance before swiftly spinning around on his heel and racing out of the front door of the shop.

Jungkook flutters his eyes open to focus again on the branches above him, following their winding paths as they cross over one another before succumbing once again to another vision.

“You’re back?” Seokjin asks, he sounds cheery, prime for customer service, but Jungkook can see the puzzled look on his face.

Jungkook nods, clearing his throat and trying to speak —

“I guess so.” His voice is raspy, as if the words had to claw their way out of his throat, and Seokjin looks even more surprised that Jungkook was able to respond.

“Did you need help finding something?” Seokjin asks warily, leaning heavily against the countertop.

“I don’t think so,” Jungkook responds, scuffing his toe against the wooden floorboard nervously.

“Are you sure?” Seokjin asks, tilting his head curiously.

“Do I have to buy something to come here?” Jungkook asks.

“No,” Seokjin replies, chewing his lip. “But it’s unusual for a customer to leave this place empty-handed.”

“How unusual?” Jungkook asks, stepping a little closer to the counter, arms held stiffly at his sides as if trying to stop himself from touching anything.

“I don’t think it’s ever happened,” Seokjin says, tapping mindlessly against the countertop. “At least not in the time I’ve been here.”

“Oh,” Jungkook replies, swallowing thickly. “Maybe I’m not a customer then?”

“Yes,” Seokjin responds slowly, blowing out a slow breath. “Maybe you’re not.”

Jungkook digs his fingers into the dirt beneath him, positive he’s leaving behind craters, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Welcome back!” Hoseok calls, before the door has even had a chance to close behind Jungkook. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to get here, you can help me stock the shelves!”

“Okay, hyung,” Jungkook replies, sidling up to Hoseok. “I’m completely at your disposal.”

“That's what I like to hear,” Hoseok says, shooting a wink in Jungkook’s direction. “The shop has been fussing all day, but the minute you step inside it’s like she’s gone quiet.” He whispers this to Jungkook, eyes sparkling as he drags a hand along the wall behind the counter. “You’re our magic touch.”

“I’m not magic, though,” Jungkook says, shaking his head, but he finds himself laying a flat palm against the same wall that Hoseok is touching, pressing against the wood as if he could feel the pulse of the shop beneath his fingers. As if he could feel some of her life force.

“I think you’re pretty magical,” Hoseok replies quietly, bumping his hip against Jungkook’s.

Jungkook tightens his grip on the ring, even though it burns so hot against his skin, he’s sure it’s leaving behind a mark. He wills himself to go back to the dreams – or ‘ memories’ his mind helpfully supplies.

“The sunflowers…” Jungkook starts, reaching an aborted hand out to pet against their petals.

“What about them?” Jimin asks, head tilted curiously as he watches Jungkook’s hand hang frozen in the air, fingers twitching toward the blooms.

“It’s winter,” Jungkook says simply, letting his hand drop to swing lifelessly at his side, eyes still transfixed on the sunflowers, bright and flourishing in front of him.

“Yes,” Jimin says slowly, stepping closer to Jungkook’s side and dragging his finger along the stem, as if showing Jungkook that it’s okay to touch. “It definitely is winter,” he confirms.

“Why are the sunflowers not dead, then?” Jungkook asks, reaching a hand up to lightly trail his hand along the same path that Jimin’s is, until they meet unceremoniously just below the petals, fingers brushing against one another in a sort of dance.

“Magic, probably,” Jimin shrugs, and Jungkook can hear the smirk in his voice, steadfastly refusing to meet his eyes.

“Guess so,” he says, linking his pinky with Jimin’s and letting their hands swing softly between their bodies.

Jungkook breathes in so quickly that he almost chokes on the air as it races into his lungs. He squints back up at the oak tree branches, but his eyes hurt the longer he tries to keep them open and he quickly lets them fall shut again, desperate for some relief.

“You’re a menace,” Namjoon grumbles, but he does nothing to stop Jungkook’s antics as he dances around him in the garden. He darts back and forth between the plants, making sure not to step on any leaves or errant roots and Namjoon ducks his head with each passing movement, an obvious attempt to hide the growing smile on his face.

“I’d stop but you love me too much,” Jungkook jokes, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly before spinning into Namjoon’s side.

“Yeah,” Namjoon sighs, not even attempting to argue as he knots his fingers into the hem of Jungkook’s shirt, effectively preventing him from spinning away once again. “I thought you were here to help me garden?”

“This is helping,” Jungkook insists, plastering himself along the planes of Namjoon’s back and hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch as he clips back some of the overgrowth. “It’s called moral support,” Jungkook sniffs, biting his lip to curb the shit-eating grin threatening to break out across his face. “Free entertainment, if you will.”

“Ah, of course,” Namjoon snorts, reaching back to pat at Jungkook’s hip.

Jungkook floats back to himself, but doesn’t even bother to open his eyes this time. They feel almost glued shut as he pets his hand along the grass blades beneath him.

“You can lay on my stomach if you want,” Taehyung says, and even in the darkness outside he can see Taehyung’s eyebrows wiggling. Jungkook rolls his eyes but obliges, pillowing his head on the softness of Taehyung’s tummy as he stares up at the night sky.

“Comfy,” Jungkook says around a yawn, smacking his lips loudly. 

“Glad to be of service,” Taehyung responds, and Jungkook can feel the words as they vibrate through his body.

“So what am I meant to be looking for, exactly?” Jungkook asks, blinking up at the sky and squinting at the smattering of stars there.

“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight,” Taehyung whispers, almost as if he’s worried that if he speaks too loud, he’ll scare the universe into depriving them of a show.

“Can you harvest anything from meteors?” Jungkook asks, eyes still glued to the sky above, but all the movement he sees are the stars winking back at him. He shuts one eye to try to focus better, but it only serves to give him a headache.

“I could,” Taehyung shrugs, and Jungkook’s head bobs up and down with the movement. “But they don’t really provide much for us here on Earth.”

“So, why is the meteor shower so important to you if it doesn’t help your magic?” Jungkook asks, swiveling his head to look toward Taehyung’s face, but all he can see is the outline of his jaw and the underside of his chin.

“Because it’s beautiful,” Taehyung whispers back, craning his neck to look down at Jungkook. “Anything that looks like that is magical in my book.” He arches an eyebrow at him before nudging Jungkook’s chin back toward the sky. “Pay attention, you don’t want to miss it, I promise.”

Jungkook squints his eyes open and this time, the forest is completely cloaked in darkness. A small voice in his head tells him that he should be getting home, that the others might start to worry, but his limbs feel so heavy that he can’t help but drift off once again.

“You know you don’t have to keep meeting me at the train station, hyung,” Jungkook says, trailing closely behind Yoongi as they weave through the sunflower field in some nonsensical path.

“I like to, though,” Yoongi shrugs, reaching his hand out behind him and wiggling his fingers until Jungkook huffs and weaves their hands together. He allows himself to be pulled to the forest’s edge.

“I suppose I like it too, then,” Jungkook giggles as Yoongi holds up a branch for Jungkook to duck under.

“What are the chances the shop has something to give you this visit?” Yoongi asks, laughing a little as it comes into view and tugging Jungkook forward to usher him up the steps. Jungkook’s been here several times, but he has yet to receive a gift from her, and the others insist it’s unusual behavior.

“I think she may have already given me what I wanted,” Jungkook replies quietly, steadfastly avoiding Yoongi’s gaze as he turns to eye him, a soft smile on his face.

“I’m glad you think so,” he mutters back, squeezing Jungkook’s hand so tenderly and yet Jungkook feels he’ll crack under the pressure of it.

He can hear his breath getting louder, attempting to regulate him as he struggles to follow the various trains of thought.

“Welcome!” Seokjin says from behind the counter. “Feel free to look around, I’m sure you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for.”

Jungkook feels uneasy as he floats back through the shelves. It’s an exact replica of his first dream – presumably a memory from his first visit here. He scans the shelves, wandering aimlessly further and further into the store, but this time his vision stays sharp. 

He can’t turn his head, but he swivels his eyes back and forth across the shelves before they go out of view. He’s not sure what he’s searching for, but something in his gut tells him that it’s something he missed on his first visit.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking before his eyes catch on it – his ring, sliding helplessly across one of the shelves. He tries to stop in his tracks, to go toward it, but he keeps walking forward no matter how much he tries to tell his feet to stop, until eventually he reaches Seokjin at the counter once more.

“Did you find everything alright?” Seokjin asks, smile faltering.

This time when Jungkook opens his eyes, it’s not the leaves of a large oak tree that he sees, but a ceiling. There’s one large crack, splintering through the paint job, as if the structure were attempting to mimic a tree branch of some kind. He blinks a few times, squirming against the floor which is much harder than the forest’s grass. He sits up slowly, slightly disoriented as he looks around the room.

It’s empty – except for a window covered by a curtain made of liquid.

Jungkook clenches his fingers into the tops of his thighs, not remembering how he made it to this room. He pinches his leg but it doesn’t jolt him out of a dream, so he slowly raises himself to his feet.

He crosses the room and swipes aside the curtain, inhaling sharply in surprise.

Instead of the suburban scene he’s used to seeing take up the frame, it’s the forest.

Their forest.

He steps forward until his toes are flush with the wall, allowing the curtain to swing closed behind him. Jungkook leans heavily on the windowsill and plants his cheek against the cool of the glass. Outside is the familiar path that Jungkook follows Jin along to get to the shop, and the large tree that keeps their house in the shade, and if Jungkook strains his eyes enough, he can see the back perimeter of Namjoon’s garden, peeking out just in the corner of his vision. 

Jungkook breathes out heavily, letting the warmth of his breath fog up the glass in front of him as he directs his gaze upwards. It’s a full moon tonight. And it’s as if the tree canopy had made just enough space between their branches to show Jungkook that portion of the sky. He stares up at the moon, entranced and unable to look away.

He blinks a few times, but the outline of the moon stays seared into his retinas, carved out on the insides of his eyelids with every blink. 

He stares for a few seconds longer, before he realizes how silent it’s gotten. He can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away, but he perks up his ears and hears nothing, not even the sound of his own breathing. It’s as if the house was frozen in time.

The silence becomes suffocating all too quickly, and Jungkook finds himself afraid to look away from the moon and then, like a wisp of wind through the tree branches, something like a whisper reaches him –

The moon deals in soulmates .

Jungkook stumbles away from the window, batting away the curtain until it’s no longer touching him, and is hit full force by the comforting sounds of the house again. He gasps a little and is glad to finally hear the rattling of his own breath as it scrapes out of his lungs and whistles through his teeth.

He gasps, catching his breath as he watches the curtain splash against the window. He thinks back to when he first received the jar of moon dust. Taehyung said that while stardust helps people find their way, or rather helps them to believe that they are in the hands of the universe, moon dust was much stronger than that. 

He’s starting to think that the moon dust led him right to them.

His hand goes to the ring that hangs around his neck, just next to his heart. The ring that is almost identical to the six other men in the house. The word soulmates continues to echo through his head, but it’s not a scary word anymore. It’s comforting in a way, soothing like a lullaby, and the melody of the syllables as they dance around him relaxes him enough to lull him into a deep sleep, curled up in the middle of the room that used to not belong to the house, but inexplicably, now does.

“Jungkook-ah!”

He sits up abruptly and it hits him like a train – waves of affection, longing, adoration – all that he had lost months ago, crashing over him in droves.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook slurs out, still a little groggy. He blinks slowly as the others fuss over him, dragging him to his feet and maneuvering his limbs every which way, looking for hurt that isn’t there.

“Are you okay?” Jin asks, and Jungkook’s eyes finally start to focus, sloughing off the last dregs of sleep as he zeroes in on Jin’s face. He can see the others just behind him, peering around his shoulder with mirroring looks of concern on their faces.

He feels the rope untie from his midsection, falling completely away from his body. He imagines it knotted and jumbled in a pile at his feet.

“How could I ever have forgotten you?” Jungkook asks dreamily.

Chapter Text

The room is stunned into silence, blinking back at Jungkook with awed expressions. He stares back, breathing so heavily he thinks his chest will burst with the force of his own lungs.

His memories come back to him in a rush, settling in his chest as if they never left.

“You’re all together?” How many questions had he asked them again, not realizing he already knew the answer in a past life.

“Yes,” Hoseok nods, placing a protective arm around Jin’s shoulders. 

“Is that a problem?” Namjoon asks, clearing his throat and squirming nervously in his chair.

“It’s not a problem,” Jungkook replies, biting the inside of his bottom lip. “But…”

“But?” Yoongi encourages. 

“But,” Jungkook repeats, sighing. “How could there be room for me?”

“You fit,” Jimin shrugs, as if it was the easiest answer in the world. “You make us better.”

“I just can’t imagine a world in which I could have this,” Jungkook whispers.

“Have what?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head.

“Any of you,” he says, gesturing around at all of them.

“Well, you don’t have to imagine it,” Jin says, leaning forward just slightly. “You’re living it.”

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asks, his eyes sweep over all of their faces before ultimately landing on Jin.

“Are you sure you remember?” Jin asks quietly. “Because you never used to kiss us before,” he says, attempting something of a joke, but it falls flat in the empty room.

“I’m sure I remember you,” Jungkook insists, watching as the others tense a little, watching him so intensely as if looking for a crack in his facade. “And I also remember that I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time.” He swallows thickly, peering around Jin’s shoulder. “All of you,” he amends. “And I almost lost my chance, so there’s no way I’m passing it up again.”

Jin stares back at him, opening and closing his mouth a few times, aborted answers locked behind his teeth.

“Are you sure?” he settles on, eyebrows scrunched together as he scans Jungkook’s face.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook calls out, eyes never leaving Jin’s gaze.

“Yes?” Yoongi asks, sounding more hopeful than Jungkook has ever heard him sound.

“Do I feel unsure?” Jungkook asks pointedly. There’s a pause as Jungkook sees the others turn to look at Yoongi out of the corner of his eye.

“No,” Yoongi chuckles, floorboards creaking beneath him as he shifts his weight around. “You feel like you always do when you’re with us.”

“And what feeling is that?” Jungkook goads on.

“Longing,” Yoongi replies simply, the smile obvious in his voice. “ Yearning ,” he tacks on, teasingly.

Jungkook arches an eyebrow at Jin, as if challenging him to dispute it.

“Well?” Jin replies, drawing himself tall. “What are you waiting for then?”

Jungkook surges forward the minute the words leave Jin’s mouth, swallowing the letters individually. He clings to Jin, afraid that if he doesn’t, Jin will just disappear. He knots his fingers in the fabric of his shirt, knuckles digging into Jin’s ribcage with the force of it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jin huffs out a laugh, warm breath fanning across Jungkook’s mouth.

“How can you be so sure?” Jungkook whines, pushing forward again and huffing when Jin leans back just out of reach.

“I can’t tell if I’m turned on or jealous,” Taehyung whispers, groaning when Jimin smacks him on the arm.

“You’re going to ruin the moment,” Jimin says in an animated stage whisper, eyes wide as he looks between Jin and Jungkook.

“I want to kiss all of you, though,” Jungkook says, still clinging to Jin as he looks at the others.

“As much as I would like that, I think it would probably be best if we talked first,” Namjoon says softly.

“Do you always have to be so reasonable?” Taehyung grumbles.

“I agree with Namjoon,” Hoseok says, nodding as he takes a few steps backwards toward the door. “Now can we please get out of this room?” 

“I don’t know why you don’t like it so much,” Yoongi huffs, but he follows behind Hoseok anyway.

“It’s creepy!” Hoseok cries out, ushering the others out of the room before slamming the door shut behind them. 

“Is it more or less creepy now that it actually looks like it’s a part of the house?” Jungkook asks, fingers still tangled in the fabric of Jin’s shirt as he trails after them to the den.

“That is yet to be decided,” Hoseok sniffs, flopping down onto the couch and gathering Yoongi into his lap. They both bounce a little when Namjoon sits down next to them, jostling the couch cushions and making room for Jin and Jungkook to pile onto the cushions next to them. Jimin and Taehyung are the last to enter the room, dropping down on the floor by their feet instead and leaning against his shins. 

“So,” Namjoon starts, exhaling deeply as he turns to Jungkook. “Care to fill us in on where you’ve been?”

“Right,” Jungkook says meekly. “How long was I gone exactly?”

“It’s three in the morning,” Jimin chimes in, cocking his head pointedly toward the large clock in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispers, blinking owlishly at them.

“Don’t apologize,” Jin says gently, patting Jungkook’s knee. “Just tell us where you’ve been.”

“And why you seem to remember us all of a sudden,” Yoongi tacks on.

Jungkook leans his head back, eyes trained on the ceiling as he attempts to grasp at his thoughts and arrange them in a way that makes sense.

“I was in the forest,” he shrugs, tipping his head to the side slightly to glance helplessly at Jin.

“Barefoot, yes, we know that much,” Jin replies, nodding at Jungkook encouragingly and squeezing just above his knee. Jungkook resists the urge to kick his leg out at the touch, shivering at the feeling of Jin’s fingers digging into his flesh.

“I wasn’t really thinking, just following,” Jungkook says slowly, peeking over at Yoongi now. “The tugging was pretty insistent, and I just let her take me.”

“Do you know where?” Yoongi asks, cocking his head to the side slightly, face so calm that Jungkook can’t help but ease into it. “Near the shop? Or more toward the outskirts of the forest?”

“I didn’t really pay attention,” Jungkook responds, nibbling on the inside of his lower lip. “I ended up at a large tree though.”

“Well, that sure narrows it down,” Jimin snorts, whining when Taehyung elbows him in the ribs. “What? The forest has a lot of big trees,” Jimin insists.

“Anyways,” Hoseok says, flashing a large smile at Jimin before turning back to Jungkook. “A large tree?” He prompts gently.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, biting back his own smile as he watches Jimin rub at his rib cage in a self-soothing motion. “And I just laid on the ground and…” He heaves a deep breath, sagging further back into the couch. 

“It was like I was dreaming again, but it felt so much more real,” he insists. “And familiar .” He sweeps his gaze around the room, focusing on the connection points between all of their limbs. “They were memories. I know it.”

“How can you be sure,” Namjoon asks, gently.

“It didn’t feel like I was watching someone else’s life anymore,” he shrugs. “It finally felt like mine.”

Jungkook can almost feel the words as they leave him, landing heavily in the laps of everyone else in the room, relief flooding through their bodies with the impact of them.

“So, why,” Taehyung whispers, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s knee. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You told me to get used to that, didn’t you?” Jungkook replies, teasingly, wiggling his leg a little to get Taehyung’s attention. “I thought magic didn’t have to make sense.”

Taehyung huffs in response, rolling his eyes but still rewards Jungkook with a good-natured grin. The others are quiet, mulling over the events of the day, and Jungkook lets himself relax into Jin’s side, allowing the motion of his breathing to calm his whirling thoughts.

“I don’t know for sure why it happened,” Jungkook says eventually, quiet words slicing through the room almost too abruptly as he curls into Jin’s side, dislodging Taehyung and folding his legs up on the couch. “But I might have a theory.” 

He presses the soles of his feet against the top of Namjoon’s thigh, sighing contently when Namjoon’s fingers circle around the bare skin of his ankle, pushing up under the hem of his pant leg.

“Your best guess?” Jimin encourages. 

“When I first came here, the shop didn’t give me anything,” Jungkook starts, looking around at all of them. “Right?”

They nod back at him slowly but Jin huffs a little, jostling Jungkook against his chest.

“I always thought that we were the thing she was trying to give you,” he chuckles a little, but he sounds serious.

“I think so, too,” Jungkook says quietly, using the tip of his finger to draw aimless patterns on the top of Jin’s thigh. “But I think she messed up.”

“She messed up?” Yoongi asks, craning his neck around Namjoon. Jungkook glances down briefly to see his finger poised above his knee, obviously waiting for the moment he starts to feel distress from Jungkook.

“You mean the shop?” Taehyung asks.

“The forest was showing me things,” Jungkook says slowly. “Memories,” he clarifies. “But there was something she showed me twice.” He swallows, tucking himself further into Jin’s side. “The first time I came to the shop, I remember walking around and finding nothing but ending up back at Jin’s counter.” He glances up and Jin nods.

“That’s how I remember it, too,” he agrees.

“In the first memory, my vision is sort of blurred,” Jungkook huffs. “I don’t know how to describe it but it felt like I was just floating around, not really seeing anything until I found you again.”

“He’s blushing by the way,” Namjoon chimes in.

“Can you blame me,” Jin says, hiding his face in the top of Jungkook’s head. “It’s a bit romantic, no?”

“It’s sweet,” Taehyung agrees, nodding sincerely from his spot on the floor.

“What happened the second time she showed you the memory?” Hoseok asks, petting a hand through the roots of Yoongi’s hair.

“It started the same,” Jungkook says. “But this time I saw the ring.”

“The ring?” Jimin asks, eyebrows shooting up as the others all straighten in their seats.

“My vision was more clear this time, and I could see it rattling on one of the shelves,” Jungkook says, folding his hands in his lap and resisting the urge to knot his fingers together nervously.

“So, you think…” Jin says quietly.

“I think she meant to give me the ring on my first visit,” Jungkook confirms, nodding slightly and chewing on the inside of his cheek. He waits patiently for the others to chime in on their theories before he continues, glancing to the window and watching as the branches tap almost purposefully against the glass.

“So you think the reason you lost your memory,” Jimin says slowly, “is because the shop messed up and forgot to give you the ring?”

“The ring that we all have,” Jin says pointedly. “She didn’t let Jungkook know that he belongs here.”

“With us,” Taehyung nods.

The train pulls up to the station and Jungkook very deliberately doesn’t look back over his shoulder, ignoring the sunflowers that he knows are all facing toward him. Instead he follows the pull of the rope around his midsection, dragging him toward the train doors as they slide open.

He boards the train, a nervous feeling in his gut. For some reason, he knows he won’t be returning anytime soon, but he’s not scared by that fact, because he knows it has to be done.

He holds onto the knowledge that they’ll meet again, somewhere down the line

He knows he’ll find his way back to them.

“I left willingly,” Jungkook says quietly, shoulders hunching in on himself as he lets the words tumble clumsily into the quiet of the room.

“You… what?” Jimin asks, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“She told me to,” Jungkook says. “Somehow, I don’t know,” he shrugs, helplessly. “I knew I had to leave.” Jungkook looks up, almost pleadingly. “But I knew I’d find you again,” he says, fiercely. “I knew that we were intertwined in some way, I just didn’t know how tightly.”

Namjoon eyes him curiously for a moment.

“That’s not everything, though,” Namjoon says. “Is it?”

“Not everything, no,” Jungkook agrees, turning his attention to Taehyung. “The moon dust?”

“Did you figure it out?” Taehyung asks, looking up at him hopefully.

“It’s not my memories that were stored in the jar, like I thought,” Jungkook says. “Was it?”

“You tell me,” Taehyung says, leaning forward so far Jungkook’s surprised he hasn’t tipped over.

“The moon,” Jungkook says, looking around at all of them. “She deals with soulmates, doesn’t she?” He licks his lips. “Originally, when I first opened the jar, I thought you felt familiar because I was remembering you…” He pauses, looking at Taehyung who just nods in encouragement. “But you felt more familiar, because I was finally feeling that connection between us.”

“The connection of our souls,” Taehyung agrees, laughing a little giddy.

“Soulmates?” Jin says, peering over at Taehyung. “The shop gave Jungkook moon dust because we’re soulmates?”

“All of us?” Yoongi asks, and Jungkook notices his finger moving rhythmically against his knee. He doesn’t feel particularly alarmed at the news, but as he looks around the room he figures that the tapping is not for him this time.

“You didn’t know?” Jungkook asks, eyebrows raising in disbelief. “I’m a bit relieved actually,” he laughs. “Finally something that I wasn’t the only person left out of.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Namjoon asks, poking his toe into the small of Taehyung’s back lightly.

“I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up,” Taehyung shrugs helplessly. “Jungkook didn’t even remember us, I didn’t want him to think he was predestined to stay here or something.” He shrinks himself impossibly small into the circle of Jimin’s embrace and meets Jungkook’s gaze. “I wanted you to choose us of your own free will,” he whispers. “Not just at the suggestion of the cosmos, however strong they may be.”

“I felt it even before I remembered you,” Jungkook shrugs, trying to sound casual but the tremor in his voice betrays the swarm of butterflies trapped just below his ribcage, delicate wings beating against muscle and bone.

“Honestly, I always sort of thought that’s what the rings signified anyways,” Jimin shrugs, leaning his head back onto Namjoon’s knee.

“I guess so,” Yoongi hums, tugging absentmindedly on the chain around his neck.

Jungkook mirrors him, looping his finger through his own ring and feeling the way it warms up to his touch almost immediately. He presses the ring firmly against his clavicle, running the metal along the bone there to spread some of that warmth, vaguely wondering how warm it would be if any of the others touched it.

“You always felt like the missing link,” Hoseok finally speaks up, reaching over to tap at the back of Jungkook’s hand where the knuckles have turned white from how hard he’s gripping the ring. He loosens his hold slightly at the gentle prodding, pushing his hand further into Hoseok’s touch instead.

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees, as the others hum their agreement. “It feels complete when you’re here.”

“What does?” Jungkook asks, even though he already knows the answer, just greedily wants to hear it spoken out loud.

“ We feel complete,” Yoongi says, leaning forward to catch Jungkook’s gaze. “Everything has been lighter since you returned to us.”

Jungkook blushes at the words, but is unable to look away from Yoongi, allowing him to see the color as it rushes to his cheeks, allowing him to see the corners of his mouth tug up into a shy smile, the way his eyelids flutter.

“How did you get into the room, though?” Hoseok asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, “I just woke up on the floor not long before you found me.”

“I think it was the house’s way of attempting to tie Jungkook to us,” Yoongi says thoughtfully, chewing on the corner of his thumb.

“How long have you been holding onto that theory, hyung?” Jimin asks.

“It’s not that far-fetched,” Yoongi shrugs. “The room that looks like it doesn’t belong shows up around the time Jungkook disappears?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “And now that Jungkook knows he belongs, the room looks like it does too?”

“I agree with Yoongi-yah,” Jin says. “I think our forest was scrambling to bring us back together, but despite everything, she’s not human.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks.

“She doesn’t think the way we do,” Yoongi fills in. “As much as she tries, she doesn’t always know how to speak to us, and some of her attempts are misguided at best.”

Jungkook hums a little in thought, eyes drifting to the window once more.

“So now what?” he asks.

“Now we go to bed,” Jin says, using Jungkook’s thigh as leverage to get up from the couch. He reaches his hand out to Jungkook to help him up as well. “You must be exhausted.”

“I guess so,” Jungkook replies, only now realizing how heavy his limbs feel. Despite basically sleeping all day on the forest floor, he feels mentally drained. 

“There’s a lot for us to think about, but nothing that can’t wait until morning,” Jin says, ushering Jungkook to the base of the stairs.

“Can I sleep in hyung’s room?” Jungkook asks, tugging on the sleeve of Jin’s shirt.

“Of course,” Jin says, grabbing hold of Jungkook’s shoulders and steering him up the stairs as the others trail after them.

“How many of us do you think will fit in there?” Taehyung asks, lingering in the hallway outside of his own bedroom door.

“Let’s not overwhelm him,” Yoongi says, rubbing a hand up and down Taehyung’s back. “You can come to mine, if you want?”

“Is that even a question?” Taehyung snorts, latching onto Yoongi’s side and Jungkook giggles as the pair waddle across the floor to Yoongi’s room instead. Jin pushes Jungkook toward the pink door, but not before he catches a glimpse of the other three slipping through the red door at the other end of the hall together.

“What side do you want?” Jin asks, fishing out two sets of pajamas from his dresser and handing one off to Jungkook.

“I want to be by the window,” Jungkook says without thinking, turning his back to Jin and changing his clothes quickly.

“Okay,” Jin says simply. Jungkook can hear the rustling of Jin’s clothes being changed as well, trying not to let his imagination run off without him as he stays firmly turned toward the opposite wall.

“Tell me when you’re dressed, hyung,” Jungkook calls out, shuffling his feet nervously against the floorboards.

“It’s safe,” Jin chuckles and Jungkook finally turns back around, avoiding Jin’s eyes as he crawls into bed. “Any particular reason you want the window side?” Jin asks, sliding under the comforters next to Jungkook and keeping a safe distance.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook whispers, eyeing the space between them disapprovingly and shuffling closer to Jin’s body heat. “I like seeing the moon, I guess.” He snuffles his nose against Jin’s shoulder, resisting the urge to throw his leg over his hips. “Besides, the forest is closer this way,” he says as an afterthought, and he swears he hears the tree branches tap against the window pane in agreement.

“Ah,” Jin says, gathering Jungkook more firmly in his arms as they sink deeper under the covers. “I’m glad you want to feel closer to her,” he mumbles against the crown of Jungkook’s head, hot breath ruffling the tufts of hair there. “She’s a part of us as well.”

“I know,” Jungkook says, fluttering his eyes closed. “Sweet dreams, hyung.”

“Sweet dreams,” Jin whispers back. “See you in the morning.

Jungkook wakes up to a knock on the door.

“Huh?” he grumbles, nuzzling further into the warmth at his side.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Jin’s voice filters in through his subconscious. “But this is the latest I’ve stayed in bed in a while, and I think it’s well past breakfast time.”

“Stay here,” Jungkook whines, smacking his lips and clinging tighter around Jin’s frame.

“Don’t you want to see the others?” Jin prods, chuckling as he jostles Jungkook against the bed.

Jungkook frowns but eventually blinks his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the window.

“It’s late,” Jungkook says, stretching against the sheets but making sure to keep up some point of contact against Jin’s body.

“It is,” Jin agrees. “So I should be helping Hoseok make breakfast.”

“I guess,” Jungkook grumbles before sitting up in bed and climbing over Jin to make his way to the door.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Jimin teases, leaning against the doorframe. “Can Jin-hyung come out to play?” 

Taehyung peeks his head around from Jimin’s shoulder.

“You slept a while,” he says, a tinge of worry coloring his words.

“We’re up now,” Jungkook says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and still attempting to adjust to the daylight when Jin hooks his chin over his shoulder.

“Have you all had breakfast yet or are you waiting for us?” he asks.

“Waiting of course,” Jimin says, looking offended.

“Of course,” Jin repeats, rubbing his cheek against Jungkook’s quickly before making his way around them and toward the staircase. “I’ll help Hoseok with cooking, then.”

Jungkook follows after him, purposefully brushing against Jimin and Taehyung as he walks by, just to feel their body heat close to him.

He bounds down the stairs after Jin, rounding the corner into the kitchen and can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face when he sees everyone puttering around. It’s familiar now, something like how he wants all of his mornings to look.

“Good morning,” he says, plopping down into his chair ( his chair ).

“Morning, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi calls, falling into the chair next to him. “You’re just in time.”

“Just in time to be late?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head as Hoseok turns off the stove.

“You needed the rest, though,” Yoongi insists, shoving his shoulder against Jungkook’s.

“I did, I think,” Jungkook agrees. “I feel good.”

“Good,” Hoseok says, dropping a kiss on Jin’s cheek as he moves around him. Jungkook ignores the swirling in his chest. “Any dreams?” Hoseok asks, placing a plate in front of Jungkook.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t have my forget-me-nots though,” he pouts, casting his gaze over to Namjoon.

“Oh,” Namjoon says, sitting up straighter in his chair and looking over at Jungkook. “Is that something you’d want? More tea?”

“I like being taken care of,” Jungkook says simply, taking a bite of his food. “Even if I don’t necessarily need to remember anything anymore.”

“Who knows,” Yoongi says, smirking over at the pair. “Maybe there’s some hidden memories that we have yet to dig out.”

“I hope not,” Jungkook mumbles, straightening up slightly in his seat when he feels Yoongi’s hand brush against the small of his back. He lets himself sink into the comfortability of it all, how new and yet familiar it all feels to him now. 

The sound of utensils scraping rhythmically against plates, the gentle murmuring between Seokjin and Hoseok across the table, the steadying gazes of Jimin and Taehyung peeking over their mugs at him, the warmth of Yoongi’s magic pulsing at his side, and the constant swaying of Namjoon’s wisteria from the ceiling. 

“Are they speaking to you, hyung?” Jungkook asks, tilting his chin up at the rafters and glancing over at Namjoon.

“They’re giggling,” Namjoon says, a pink tinge spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

“Giggling?” Jungkook asks, leaning back in his chair to watch them sway in sync, petals catching on one another with each passing movement.

“They’re happy you’re back, I think,” Namjoon grins.

“I’ve been here, though,” Jungkook mumbles, ducking his head down to his own plate.

“It’s different now, I think,” Namjoon shrugs, turning back to his food.

Jungkook hums, absentmindedly tracing the woodgrain of the table beneath his fingers before looking to the other side of the table.

“I was wondering something, hyung,” Jungkook calls out, clearing his throat as the others all pause to look at him curiously.

“Me?” Seokjin asks, adjusting himself in his chair and leaning his elbows on the table, cocking his head at Jungkook curiously.

“You’re the most connected to the forest,” Jungkook says simply. “And the shop.” He glances around the table pointedly before turning back to Seokjin. “So what’s your best guess?”

“My best guess?” Seokjin repeats, rolling his lips between his teeth and humming thoughtfully to himself. “I think your spirit is somehow connected to the forest.”

He looks swiftly away from Jungkook, ignoring everyone else’s raised eyebrows as he ducks to take a bite of his food, chewing longer than is strictly necessary.

“Care to elaborate on that, Jin-hyung?” Jimin asks, snorting a little at the expression of innocence on Jin’s face.

“I just think it would be…” Jin pauses tilting his head back and forth a few times as if trying to manually slot his thoughts into their correct spots. “I think it would be inaccurate to say that I am the most connected to the forest.” Jin exhales a long breath through his nose as he peeks at the others, whether he’s looking for agreement or not Jungkook can’t tell. “I think you are inexplicably linked to this forest in a way that none of us could ever imagine.”

“My spirit?” Jungkook asks, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. “What makes you think that?”

“The sunflowers,” Namjoon chimes in, pushing his lips out in thought. “I still don’t understand why they would have been dead when you returned.” He shakes his head a little, chuckling. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I think it’s because Jungkook was gone for so long,” Jin hums. “But anyways,” he clears his throat, shaking his head a little as if trying to whisk away any more errant thoughts. “It’s just a theory, as I said.”

“But I’m not a witch,” Jungkook blurts out, blinking rapidly as he looks around the table at everyone. “Am I?”

“No, you’re very much human,” Jin laughs, amidst a murmur of agreements ricocheting throughout the room. “But that doesn’t mean that you’re not magic.”

“Actually I think it does,”Jungkook says, looking pointedly at him. “That might be the exact definition of human actually.”

“I disagree,” Jin says, leaving no room for further argument.

Jungkook opens and closes his mouth a few times, flickering his eyes helplessly over to the window and watching as the branches outside sway back and forth, as if in a dance. A private recital just for him.

“Okay,” Jungkook replies, tearing his gaze away from the window and returning back to his plate, steadfastly ignoring the stares from the others burning holes into the side of his head.

The ring is warm against his chest.

Yoongi taps twice on his kneecap.

Things continue much the same as they did before he remembered them, except he can tell that no one is walking on eggshells around him anymore. For the first couple of weeks, Jungkook feels like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for his memory to get snatched away from him again. He keeps catching himself folding his arms around his midsection, as if waiting for the rope to loop around him once more, to tighten around his frame – 

But it doesn’t.

The forest stays calm and serene, and he can’t help but melt into the comfort of it all. 

It’s not completely like it was before. Sometimes he still views his past like an out-of-body experience. Can’t help that persisting feeling of disconnect .

But his body remembers them. He falls into their embrace easier, fingers searching out their skin whenever possible. The feeling of familiarity is all encompassing and Jungkook is grateful, he is. But he can’t help but wish there was more . The others act almost exactly the same around him, and he wishes they would just reach out instead.

He finds himself glancing sidelong at Yoongi during dinner sometimes, wondering if he still feels that yearning. He wonders if it feels different now than it did before. More sure of itself. 

Eventually it becomes all too much for him.

It’s a rainy day and he’s sitting in the big chair on the far side of the den for the first time in a while, usually opting to tuck himself into the couch cushions, flanked on either side by one of his hyungs. Jimin has conjured a fire for them to distract from the gloomy weather, and even though Jungkook knows that he’s got it contained, he’s still a little weary about how close it is to all of the cushions and blankets. He can’t help glancing over at it every few seconds, waiting for the flames to burst out just a touch too far, but they never do. Jimin always catches them before they can.

He scoots the chair closer to the fire, to feel more of its comforting warmth as he thinks about how to start the conversation. Jimin surveys him casually as he gets closer to the flames, directing the embers further away from him and snuffing them out before they can reach the ground.

“Hyung?” Jungkook calls out. His eyes are trained on the fire, but in the corner of his vision he can see all six of their heads turn towards him, conversations dying out on their tongues. He smiles, turning away from the fire to direct his attention to Yoongi who looks back at him knowingly, blinking lazily.

“You said all I had to do was ask,” Jungkook pauses, licking his lips and tucking himself further into the chair as he waits for Yoongi’s response. Yoongi nods slightly, trying and failing to keep the smug look off of his face. “Well, this is me asking for it.”

The others look back and forth between them, eyes begging for context but all Yoongi does is smile. Jungkook’s almost positive that he can feel the longing coming off of Jungkook in droves, like thick tendrils reaching out for each and every one of them.

“I was wondering when you would,” Yoongi says, tilting his head to the side.

“I, for one, would just love to be filled in here,” Hoseok says, climbing over various piles of limbs to plant himself on the floor between the couch and Jungkook’s chair.

Jungkook can hardly bring himself to look around the room, nervously flitting from one to the other, but they seem hopeful, at least to his eyes. They’re sitting up straighter against the couch cushions, faces on high alert with their eyes bouncing between each other like pinballs.

“I agree,” Namjoon says, voice pitched higher than usual as his fingers clench into the tops of his own thighs. “What exactly is it you’re asking for, Jungkook-ah?”

“If you’re wondering,” Yoongi says calmly, ignoring the others. He’s the only one of them that is still lazing back into the cushions, unbothered by the chattering around him. “The longing I feel coming off of you, is magnified tenfold coming off of them.” He waves his hand toward the others with a simple flick of his wrist and the room erupts.

“Did he say longing?” Jin asks, nudging Hoseok roughly. “Please tell me he said longing.”

“I heard longing,” Hoseok replies, pushing Jin back and grabbing onto his forearms to prevent him from toppling over. “I distinctly heard longing.”

“That’s definitely what I heard, too,” Namjoon says, squinting his eyes over at Yoongi.

“So you’re longing for us,” Jin says. “Currently? At this very moment?” he asks, turning to Yoongi for confirmation, who just nods simply. “Great,” Jin claps his hands together once. “Then what does that mean that you’re asking for exactly?”

“You guys,” Jungkook whines, sinking further into the chair. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Jin says, a look of pure disbelief on his face as he ignores Jungkook’s pleas. “Is Yoongi-yah trying to tell us that you want us?” He shakes his head slowly as he stares at Jungkook’s form sinking lower and lower into the cushions. 

“Hyung,” Jimin giggles, pushing at his knee to try to stave off his antics.

“No, Jimin-ah, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Jin continues. “Why would you waste time longing for something you could have so easily?”

“Yeah?” Jungkook says, swallowing hard as the rest of the room seems to hold its breath for his response. He reaches deep within himself for some semblance of courage as he peeks over the arm of the chair. “Can I really have you that easily, hyung?”

“Did you not spend all that time telling us that we’re your soulmates?” Jimin asks, sliding over to the foot of Jungkook’s chair and nudging his leg gently. “Why are you surprised?”

Jungkook shrugs helplessly, moving his leg closer to Jimin. He snorts but obliges, laying his hand just above Jungkook’s knee and squeezing comfortingly. He allows the pressure of Jimin’s palm to relax him before turning back to Yoongi.

“I know you said that love isn’t…” Jungkook waves a hand around uselessly.

“Isn’t what?” Yoongi encourages gently, leaning forward in his seat and now suddenly just as intrigued as the others.

“That it doesn’t have to include…” he swallows, draping his chest over the arm of the chair and letting his arms dangle in front of him, looking helplessly at Yoongi. “That it doesn’t have to include all the extra stuff.”

“Extra stuff,” Yoongi deadpans, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, rolling his lips between his teeth and avoiding Jimin’s eyes as he giggles. “But what if I want all of the extra stuff?”

“Do you?” Yoongi asks after a minute. 

“I think so, yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly. “Is it okay?”

“More than okay,” Yoongi snorts. “Great even, but it’s not a necessity.”

“I know,” Jungkook mumbles. “It could be fun though.” He darts his eyes quickly to the others in the room to gauge their reactions. 

“You already kissed me,” Jin shrugs unhelpfully and Jungkook huffs, grabbing a pillow from behind him and chucking it across the room at him. 

“More than kissing, I mean,” Jungkook grumbles.

“What’s more than kissing?” Namjoon teases.

“Nevermind, I don’t want anything to do with you guys anymore,” Jungkook grumbles, making for the doorway but Jimin grabs him by the ankle before he can even pull himself out of the chair.

“Slow down,” Jimin laughs. “Let’s have an adult discussion.”

“Gross,” Taehyung says, smiling cheekily at them and Jungkook nods his head in agreement, avoiding the eyes of everyone else in the room.

The silence prolongs, a bit too long to be comfortable.

“Well?” Jungkook huffs, getting impatient as he squirms in his seat.

“Well?” Jimin prompts. Jungkook throws a glare his way, hoping the warmth on his cheeks isn’t too noticeable. He catches Yoongi rising to his feet out of the corner of his eye.

“Scoot over,” Yoongi grunts. His voice is rough, but his hand is gentle when it drapes across his shoulder. The touch is so light that Jungkook can barely feel it through the layers of his clothes.

He does as he’s told, folding himself small into the corner of the chair and making room for Yoongi to sit on the edge of it. Yoongi scoots close enough that their thighs touch before grabbing Jungkook’s hand and dragging it into his own lap. Jungkook watches, entranced as Yoongi’s knobby fingers feel around at the inside of his wrist until they settle directly over his pulse point, as if feeling for proof of the rush of blood beneath Jungkook’s skin. He presses in once firmly, a wordless question, before his fingers start tapping that familiar, steady rhythm.

Jungkook keeps his eyes directed at Yoongi’s fingers as they dance across his skin, allowing himself to relax under his touch.

“For you to get what you want,” Yoongi whispers, “You’ve got to tell us what you want.” His voice is so low Jungkook thinks it’s only meant for his ears, but he’s sure that everyone else in the room can hear them all the same. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Jungkook whines, scrunching his nose up as the others chuckle around him. Yoongi chokes back his own laugh but still shushes the others in the room.

“Nothing embarrassing about it,” Yoongi assures, fingers never faltering in their rhythm.

“I’ve dreamt about it,” Jungkook whispers.

“Have you?” Yoongi asks, with no hint of judgment in his voice.

“You were touching me,” Jungkook says. “And I was touching you.”

“Is that what you want?” Yoongi asks after a moment, when it’s clear that Jungkook isn’t going to continue the thought out loud. “For us to touch you?”

“I want all of it,” Jungkook says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “Anything and everything you’re willing to give me.” Jungkook swallows, steeling himself and meeting each and every one of their gazes. “I want it.”

They all stare back at him, some with looks of want, others complete surprise and slack jaws.

“And you can have it,” Yoongi assures, leaning forward just slightly. “But how about we start with a kiss first?” Yoongi smiles gently as Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to his lips, tongue darting out to wet his own. “Hm?” Yoongi hums, using the knuckle of his unoccupied hand to nudge Jungkook’s chin up slightly.

“Okay,” he breathes out, jolting forward a little too abruptly into Yoongi’s space.

“Relax,” Yoongi laughs and Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed when he feels the warm puff of breath fan across his face. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Jungkook swallows, nodding a little dumbly and tilting his head to the side in a silent question. Yoongi grins widely at him before grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger, positioning him where he wants him and then finally, finally –

If the tap of Yoongi’s fingers are calming, the press of his lips are simply tranquilizing. Jungkook’s entire body goes slack, slumping into Yoongi’s hold and lazily moving his lips to meet Yoongi’s own. He ignores the way he can feel Yoongi smiling into the kiss, almost teasingly. His head is too floaty to comprehend much other than the feeling of Yoongi’s lips against his own.

“Sorry,” Yoongi whispers, dropping another quick peck on Jungkook’s slack-jawed mouth before finally pulling away. “I probably should have warned you.”

“It felt good,” Jungkook says, gathering himself enough to reciprocate when Yoongi drops another kiss to his lips.

“Doesn’t it?” Taehyung’s voice chimes in, and Jungkook jumps a little, forgetting that they had an audience and colors as he looks sideways at the rest of the room, all staring at them with rapt attention. “Hyung’s kisses turn you into jelly.”

“It was warm,” Jungkook whispers, finally pulling away from Yoongi and glancing down at his wrist where Yoongi’s fingers have halted in their movements. He drags his free hand up to press against the ring hanging around his neck, now practically vibrating against his chest.

“Alright,” Jimin claps his hands together. “Who’s next?” The room erupts into complaints and Jimin falls over himself laughing when Hoseok chucks a pillow at him.

“What is this? A kissing booth?” Taehyung cackles, shoving Jimin over again as the room dissolves into laughter.

“Maybe Jimin-hyung?” Jungkook says, hopefully.

Jimin immediately sobers up, blinking up at Jungkook owlishly before a sly grin spreads across his face.

He immediately climbs into the chair, all but straddling Jungkook’s lap before he slots his mouth neatly against Jungkook’s. He barely registers Yoongi’s hands pulling away from him, too caught up in the slick side of Jimin’s tongue at the seam of his mouth.

He doesn’t even have time to think before Jimin’s lips are swiftly replaced with someone else’s, and a hand placed lightly over his eyes.

“Guess who?” Taehyung whispers into the caverns of Jungkook’s mouth.

Jungkook huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t answer, opting instead to circle his hands more firmly around Taehyung’s hips, drawing him closer for another kiss.

When they pull away, Taehyung’s hand drops away from Jungkook’s eyes and he squints at the room, blinking rapidly to adjust to the dim light.

“Hyung?” Jungkook calls out, eyes flitting between Namjoon and Hoseok. They immediately jolt into action, crossing the room quickly to invade Jungkook’s space.

Hoseok pulls him in first, teeth catching on Jungkook’s bottom lip in his haste and tongue soothing over the snag immediately. Jungkook exhales slowly out of his nose, pushing up into Hoseok’s hold and whining when he pulls away all too soon.

He flutters his eyes open to look at Namjoon instead, pouting a little.

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees, nudging his forehead against Jungkook’s softly before slotting their lips together. Jungkook shivers into the warmth of his mouth, opening up willingly when Namjoon’s thumb massages at the hinge of his jaw.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter open when Namjoon pulls away, lolling his head to the side to look at Jin as he crosses the room toward them.

“I’ve already had my kiss,” Jin says, but he leans down anyway to drop a quick peck to the corner of Jungkook’s mouth. “It’s bedtime.”

“Bedtime as in…” Jungkook blinks up at him, hopefully. “ Bed time?”

“No, Jungkook-ah,” Jin laughs. “ Sleep time.”

“But you said all I had to do was ask,” Jungkook grumbles, but makes no complaints when several hands haul him up from the chair.

“And now that you’ve asked, we can explore that side of our relationship more,” Namjoon says, eyes twinkling at the groan that Jungkook lets slip.

“Fine,” Jungkook says, dragging his feet up the stairs. “But if you think I’m going to my own room tonight, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jimin says, circling his fingers around both Hoseok and Jungkook’s wrists and dragging them to his yellow door.

“Hey,” Namjoon calls after him, paused in the doorway of his own bedroom. “There’s no need to rush.” His smile is calm, reassuring almost. “None of us are going anywhere.”

Jungkook almost rolls his eyes, set to argue that they have no idea if he’ll be leaving again, but the words die out on his tongue. Even though he has no proof of it, he feels that Namjoon is right. That he’s not going anywhere. He glances toward the window and can practically hear the forest outside, creaking in agreement.

Every touch in the days that follow feels like a burn, leaving Jungkook’s skin raw and tender for hours after. 

He jumps when Namjoon first sidles up behind him at the kitchen sink, pressing his body along the planes of Jungkook’s back and gripping lightly around his hips. He quickly leans back into the embrace, ignoring Namjoon’s huff of laughter and graciously accepting the kiss to his temple. He’s gone too soon and Jungkook sways backwards when he pulls away, pouting when he steps out of the back door to his garden.

He’s slightly more prepared when Jimin curls up in his lap after a long day. He only stiffens slightly, before relaxing into the cushions and gathering Jimin’s limbs more firmly across his body. He can’t muffle the small sound that escapes him when Jimin nips at the base of his throat.

Hoseok is consistent with his affections, leaving a bruising kiss on his lips every time he leaves a room, cackling with delight when Jungkook stutters in response. It only takes a few days for Jungkook to start initiating the kisses himself, pulling him in before Hoseok can even turn his way.

Taehyung is loud with his love. He leaves dramatic and sloppy kisses on Jungkook’s cheek, licking across the seam of Jungkook’s lips, just to hear the laughter his antics drag out of Jungkook’s chest. They’re poorly disguised displays, aimed at taking some of the pressure off of this new phase of their relationship. In turn, Jungkook stamps his own soft kisses to the high points of Taehyung’s cheekbones, a silent thank you for his attempts to ease Jungkook’s nerves. 

Yoongi is all gentle touches and quiet support. Helping him into his jacket every morning, holding one side of it out so Jungkook can find the other sleeve. Working at the knot in Jungkook’s boots from when he hastily yanked them off the night before, untangling the laces and placing them on the floor for Jungkook to step into easily. Jungkook doesn’t have to ask for help, because Yoongi anticipates anything he might need. When he brushes his lips across the skin behind Jungkook’s ears, Jungkook forgets all his worries, zeroing in on that one point of contact until Yoongi pulls away again.

Jin is more shy than Jungkook would have thought, preferring to get him alone between the shelves of the shop, turning Jungkook’s face every which way to make sure no part of his skin is neglected. Jungkook allows himself to be maneuvered and doted on, craving the feeling of the shelves vibrating at his back and the lights flickering overhead, in something akin to happiness.

Jin kissed him so thoroughly one day, that the lights burned too bright, bulbs shattering overhead, unable to withstand the heat. Jungkook still smiles when he thinks of how red Jin’s face was, sweeping up the glass shards at their feet. 

“The shop got excited, I guess,” Jin mumbles, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes.

“Sure,” Jungkook agrees, grinning. “It was the shop that got excited.”

(Jungkook’s gotten good at dodging dustpans.)

He’s in Hoseok’s room and it’s warm. Too warm. He’s practically panting into his mouth, trying to keep his hips angled away but it’s hard to resist the friction.

“I think,” Hoseok gasps out, placing a gentle hand on Jungkook’s chest, just over the ring, and keeping his mouth just out of reach. “I think we should get the others,” Hoseok says, taking a deep breath and visibly collecting himself. Jungkook can do nothing but nod dumbly back at him. “Maybe we can go to Jin’s room.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says, agreeing easily and allowing Hoseok to drag him out of bed. He follows closely at Hoseok’s back, practically running into him when he stops suddenly in the middle of the hall.

“I thought I could feel…” Namjoon’s voice filters in through the haze of Jungkook’s mind and he peeks over Hoseok’s shoulder to see him poised in his own doorway. “Ah,” Namjoon says quietly, huffing out a laugh. Jungkook wants to ask what Namjoon thought he could feel, but the question gets lost, pushed behind his teeth by Namjoon’s own insistent tongue.

“Of course,” Yoongi says through a yawn as he steps into the hallway. “You guys are so horny I could practically taste it in my sleep.”

“We’re going to Jin’s,” Hoseok says, dragging his open mouth along the underside of Jungkook’s jaw.

“Looks like you’re making out in the middle of the hallway, actually,” Yoongi snorts.

“Could you get the others?” Hoseok asks, ignoring him as he attempts to move Jungkook and Namjoon down to the other end of the hall.

“On it,” Yoongi says.

Jungkook gets lost in the feeling of their mouths against every bit of skin they can reach. The next time he’s aware of his surroundings, they’ve made it to Jin’s doorway, with Hoseok against his front and Namjoon holding him from behind, chest pressed firmly into his shoulder blades.

Jin is blinking at them hungrily from the doorway, moving aside easily when Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi push past him to gather in the room. 

Jungkook tilts his head up, leaning back into Namjoon’s hold to let Hoseok trail kisses down his neck. He blinks at the ceiling a couple of times, trying to focus on his surroundings when his eyes catch on the bed.

“Um,” he says, fingers tightening around Hoseok’s waist to get his attention.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asks.

“Why is the bed the size of a swimming pool?” Jungkook asks, eyes widening.

Hoseok hums a questioning noise against Jungkook’s throat before finally pulling away to look into the room.

“Oh,” Hoseok says.

“It’s not that big,” Namjoon says, pulling Jungkook more firmly against his chest. “Maybe a small swimming pool.” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“The bed wasn’t always that size was it?” he asks, squinting at the others as they sprawl across the bed, leaving Namjoon and Hoseok in the doorway to keep Jungkook propped up.

“The house does that sometimes,” Namjoon says, sheepishly. Jungkook shivers as his hot breath leaves behind beads of perspiration on the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“Does what?” Jungkook whispers back, eyes unfocusing as Hoseok returns to nibble just above his collarbone.

“Accommodates,” Namjoon says simply, jostling Jungkook against his chest when he shrugs a little in response.

“Accommodates…” Jungkook repeats, slowly piecing together what Namjoon is saying. 

“It’s just big enough for seven people,” Taehyung says, cheerily.

“Oh,” Jungkook says, swallowing thickly. “Please don’t tell me that the house made us a bigger bed so we could…”

“Fuck,” Yoongi finishes for him, leaning back against the bed on his elbows. 

“Right,” Jungkook says, swallowing a little and leaning further into the press of Hoseok’s lips. “So it knows…”

“It’s endlessly endearing how you still get confused about magic to this day,” Jin snorts, flopping back on the bed and stretching as Jungkook mulls over the new information.

“I’m not confused,” Jungkook snaps back, voice trembling when Namjoon starts to work on the other side of his neck. “It’s just a little unnerving, that’s all.”

“Unnerving?” Taehyung asks, throwing a leg over Jin’s lap and cuddling into his side as they continue to watch the trio in the doorway.

“Well, yeah,” Jungkook huffs, mind a little preoccupied on whose body he wants to press into more. “Is it… watching us right now?”

“The house?” Jimin asks, draping his legs over Yoongi’s chest and leaning his head against Jin’s thigh. “I guess it depends on what you mean by watching. ”

“You know what,” Jungkook snorts, pulling Hoseok away from his collarbones and dragging him back up to his mouth. “Pretend I didn’t ask.”

“I don’t know if the house is watching you,” Jin says, the smirk evident in his voice. “But I certainly am.”

“You’re not funny,” Jungkook gasps out, allowing Hoseok to lick into his mouth and shivering at the way he can feel the groan rumble through Namjoon’s chest.

“I’m hilarious,” Jin says.

“Enough,” Taehyung whines. “Stop hogging him and bring him over here.”

“Yeah, the house so graciously gave us this bed and you’re not even putting it to use,” Jimin pouts.

“Stop reminding me about the house,” Jungkook groans, stumbling a little as Namjoon and Hoseok attempt to move him to the bed while staying plastered to either side of his body.

They fall in a heap on the mattress and Jungkook allows himself to be dragged to the center. 

“Clothes?” Jin grunts out, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Yes,” Jungkook nods, swallowing thickly, throat suddenly dry. “Hyungs too.”

“Whatever you want,” Jin grins, making quick work of ridding Jungkook of his extra layers. 

When he’s finally laying bare against the sheets, several sets of hands reach for him at once. He closes his eyes, trusting them to take care of him, making a game out of trying to tell them apart based on their touches alone. Smooth and calloused fingers alike scrape against his skin and Jungkook can do nothing but push into it.

He feels a hand brush over his cock, stroking him once before reaching even lower.

“Can I eat you out?” Yoongi’s voice trickles in through his swirling thoughts.

“Please,” Jungkook groans out, finally blinking his eyes open and attempting to focus.

The first swipe of Yoongi’s tongue is revolutionary. Jungkook can’t help but cry out, back bowing against the sheets while the others caress whatever bit of skin that they can reach. Taehyung slots his body along Jungkook’s right side, licking along one of his nipples while Jimin takes the spot against his left side, trailing a teasing finger up his cock. 

Jungkook can’t help but push down against Yoongi’s face, wanting to feel more of him. He loses himself in the sensation until he feels Jin’s fingers tangle into his hair, dragging his attention away. Jin uses his grip to tug Jungkook’s head back, drawing him into a kiss that is more teeth than anything else.

When Jin finally pulls away, a parting press of his lips to the corner of his mouth, Jungkook rolls his head to the side to search for the others. Hoseok and Namjoon are just within reach, fingers clenching into the sheets below them and muscles tensing as they take in the scene in front of them.

“Touch each other,” Jungkook gasps out, fighting against the urge to flutter his eyes closed.

“Tonight’s about you, though,” Hoseok replies, but his fingers twitch toward Namjoon at the sound of Jungkook’s voice.

“It’s about all of us,” Jungkook says. “And I want to see you.”

It doesn’t take much more encouragement than that. Jungkook pants as he watches the quick slide of their hands along each other’s lengths, stomach squirming at the sight.

He gasps, air rattling through his lungs when Yoongi’s finger slides in next to his tongue, cold with lube. He jolts up, accidentally pushing his chest further against Taehyung’s mouth.

Yoongi preps him gently and slowly, so slow that Jungkook feels like his brain is leaking out of his ears and onto the sheets below him, shaking with each brush of his fingertips inside of him.

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook gasps out, tugging Yoongi up and licking into his mouth instead. Yoongi keeps his fingers hooked inside of Jungkook, but he tilts his head at Jungkook’s bidding, slotting their mouths more firmly together.

“I’m ready,” Jungkook says, pushing Yoongi back just slightly. “Somebody get in me.”

“Bossy,” Jimin snorts.

Jungkook whines as Yoongi rolls off of him, crawling over to Hoseok and Namjoon instead. Jin has joined them now as well, body draped over Hoseok’s and rutting against his thigh.

“Where did our shy Jungkookie go, huh?” Taehyung asks, dragging his attention back.

“Please?” Jungkook asks, pushing his lips out into a pout until Jimin takes pity on him, slotting himself between Jungkook’s spread legs.

“Hoseok-hyung?” Taehyung calls out, and Hoseok blinks a little, eyes unfocused and glossy. “Swap with me?”

Hoseok doesn’t respond, but he pats Jin’s hip in a silent apology, rolling him over to Yoongi instead before crawling down the bed to Jungkook, immediately swinging a leg over Jungkook’s hips.

He makes a noise of complaint, gripping tightly to Hoseok’s hips and resisting the urge to thrust up into him.

“Let me prep you,” he gasps out, trying to ignore the feeling of Jimin’s cock rubbing along his rim.

“No need,” Hoseok says, grinning at him.

“I already did the honors,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook turns his head just in time to catch him wiping off his shiny fingers against the bare skin of his own thigh.

“Oh,” Jungkook says, groaning when Hoseok reaches behind him to curl his fingers around Jungkook’s length.

“Okay?” Hoseok asks and Jungkook nods hastily, cutting himself off with a groan when Hoseok sinks down.

“Is it good?” Jungkook bites out, fighting the urge to roll his eyes back into his head.

“You have no idea,” Hoseok whispers.

“Jimin-hyung?” Jungkook calls out, toes flexing with the effort of keeping his hips still when Hoseok starts lifting himself up and dropping down again just as quickly.

“Are you ready for me?” Jimin asks, petting reassuringly along the top of Jungkook’s thigh, the muscle there jumping at his touch.

“Please,” Jungkook gasps out, eyes bugging out when Jimin finally presses in. He’s immediately overwhelmed, unsure whether he should push back into Jimin’s steady rhythm or up into Hoseok. He squirms under them, trying to hold onto the last thread of his own sanity.

“This is going to go embarrassingly fast,” Jimin huffs out and Jungkook watches as he sinks his teeth into Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Hoseok groans out, hanging his head as he continues to roll his hips more urgently. Jungkook grabs at his thighs encouragingly, fingers biting bruises into the soft skin there.

“Close?” Jungkook gasps out, looking up at Hoseok who nods mindlessly, and Jimin responds with a long groan of his own. He shoves his hips flush against Jungkook before pausing and shuddering through the waves.

“I guess so,” Taehyung giggles, abandoning his spot next to Jungkook where he’s just been observing them hungrily. He crawls over to kiss along Jimin’s cheeks as he pulls out.

Jungkook takes the opportunity to flip Hoseok onto his back, running a soothing hand over Hoseok’s legs, now quivering from the effort of keeping himself up for so long.

“I’ve got you, hyung,” Jungkook whispers, grinding slowly against him and drinking in the flickering expressions of bliss as they flicker across his face.

It only takes a few gentle grinds of Jungkook’s hips before Hoseok comes undone beneath him as well, trembling against the sheets. His mouth is slack when Jungkook tries to kiss him, so he opts to lick behind his teeth instead, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort until the shaking subsides.

Jungkook flops to the side, cock bobbing against his stomach, still achingly hard as he continues to rub soothing circles into Hoseok’s hip bone. He turns to look at the other end of the bed, groaning when he sees Taehyung braced against the headboard, with Namjoon on his knees, swallowing around him.

Jungkook heaves a couple of breaths as he watches, trying to collect himself before patting Hoseok’s hip one last time and crawling over to the pair. He slots himself next to Namjoon, winding his tongue around Taehyung’s length, while simultaneously licking at the corner of Namjoon’s mouth.

“Oh god,” Taehyung grits out, fingers coming up to knot in Jungkook’s hair. Namjoon pulls back, laying his hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck and directing him to take Taehyung in instead. Jungkook moves easily, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking him down. He swallows around him, letting out a pleased hum.

“Jungkook-ah,” Taehyung gasps. “Doing so good, so close.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon teases, molding his body around Jungkook’s frame as he quickens his pace.

Jungkook continues to work him, jaw aching pleasantly from the stretch until Taehyung tenses, spilling into Jungkook’s mouth and slumping against the headboard.

“Wow,” Taehyung murmurs and Jungkook pulls back, wiping at the corners of his mouth just to watch Taehyung’s eyes narrow at him dangerously.

He giggles, leaning further back into Namjoon’s hold, who is now patiently running the tip of his nose along Jungkook’s shoulder blades.

“Still hard?” Namjoon asks, tapping lightly at the tip of Jungkook’s cock.

Jungkook hisses at the contact, but doesn’t pull away, head swimming from the warmth of the room.

“What do you want?” Namjoon asks, a hint of urgency in his voice. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Fuck me?” Jungkook asks, and Namjoon immediately grabs him, maneuvering him onto his back. Namjoon braces himself over Jungkook’s frame, beads of sweat threatening to drip off of his forehead and onto Jungkook. His eyes zero in on the ring that hangs around Namjon’s neck, swinging almost gracefully between them. His hand drifts up subconsciously to loop through the identical ring around his own neck. Namjoon looks at him knowingly, ducking down to press his lips at the juncture between Jungkook’s own fingers and the metal of the ring before finally pressing into Jungkook.

“Oh,” Jungkook gasps, leaning up to knock his head against Namjoon’s collarbones and look down at where they’re connected.

“Good?” Namjoon breathes out.

“So good,” Jungkook nods hastily, flopping back against the bed and going boneless as Namjoon slowly takes him apart. His eyes go in and out of focus, vision swimming as he takes what Namjoon gives him. 

He loses himself in the feeling until he feels another set of hands grabbing around his chest. He makes a soft sound of confusion, blinking up at Jin as he lifts Jungkook up and slots himself underneath his body, cradling Jungkook against his chest.

“Just wanted to hold you,” Jin murmurs, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s hairline.

Jungkook heaves a deep breath and digs his fingers into the soft flesh of Jin’s thighs, bracketed on either side of his hips.

“Want hyung to feel good too,” Jungkook says, groaning loudly when Namjoon adjusts the angle of his thrusts just slightly.

“I do feel good,” Jin says, dragging his fingers lightly along Jungkook’s collarbones and down toward his ribs, slotting his fingers between the imprints of his bones.

Jungkook arches into the touch, for a few moments, allowing himself to revel in Jin’s attention before grumbling and pushing Namjoon back just slightly.

“Everything okay?” Namjoon asks, pulling back.

“Just let me get on my front,” Jungkook says.

“Definitely,” Namjoon agrees easily. He pulls out but keeps his hands firmly locked around Jungkook’s hips, helping him onto his front until Jungkook’s head is pillowed against Jin’s hipbone.

“Can I?” Jungkook asks, blinking up at Jin.

“As if I could say no to you,” Jin says, cradling Jungkook’s head as he takes him into his mouth.

Jungkook wiggles his hips as a clear sign for Namjoon to continue, and he does, chuckling lightly as he presses back in.

They both groan in unison, Jungkook’s own groan vibrating through Jin and causing him to curse in response. Jungkook’s burning from the inside out and can practically feel the weight of all the others gazes on him as he allows himself to be taken apart.

He pulls off of Jin after a particularly harsh thrust, sloppily pressing his mouth to the base and working him with his fingers instead.

“That’s it,” Jin says and Jungkook swallows him down just in time to catch the mess.

Namjoon doesn’t stop though, and Jungkook’s cock drags against the sheets below him with every one of his thrusts.

“Please,” Jungkook whines, pressing his hips up back against Namjoon as Jin’s fingers lazily rake through his hair.

“I’ve got you,” Namjoon says and Taehyung slides up next to him, snaking a hand underneath Jungkook’s body to circle around his cock, not stroking, just holding.

And it does Jungkook in.

He tenses, trembling as Namjoon fucks him through it and his fingers clench so hard into the sheets that the corners unhook from the mattress, curling up at the edges. His vision blacks out as he collapses, limbs heavy against the bed beneath him and knuckles going white from how hard they’re gripping the fabric.

He barely registers when Namjoon pulls out, but he’s almost positive somebody else is taking care of him if the slick sounds echoing throughout the room are anything to go by.

Jungkook finally pulls himself up just enough to flop onto his side.

“Hyung?” Jungkook asks, blinking lazily at Yoongi. He’s propped up against the headboard on the other side of the bed, still hard and watching them. Despite that, he’s relaxed, hands laying gently at his sides, gaze just a touch too soft for the atmosphere of the room.

“Can I?” he asks, eyes flickering down to Yoongi’s cock, smirking when it twitches slightly under his stare.

“You can do whatever you want, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says, eyelashes fluttering when Jungkook drags himself across the bed, swiping a gentle finger along Yoongi’s length.

“It won’t take much,” Yoongi huffs out and Jungkook smiles sweetly at him, tightening his hold. “I was enjoying the show.”

“That’s okay,” he says, encouragingly. “The faster you finish, the faster we can go to bed.”

Yoongi smiles at him, cupping a hand around the nape of Jungkook’s neck and dragging him in close so he can nip at his bottom lip. True to his word, it only takes a few firm strokes before he falls apart beneath Jungkook’s fingers, slumping forward and nuzzling his face into the empty space of Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook gathers him up, settling down into the bed and shoots his hand out to the side, flexing his fingers to grab for anybody within reach and drag them to curl around the other side of his body. The sheets are still unhooked from the mattress, and with all of them piling into the middle of the bed, the elastic corners curl around them, bunching up between their limbs.

“This is simply indecent,” Jin grumbles, stretching a leg out to push the sheets away from them.

“I think it’s kind of nice,” Hoseok says through a yawn.

“Mhm,” Jimin agrees. “Like a cocoon.”

“Well, this is my bed and I’m not allowing us to sleep like this,” Jin says, sitting up. “Get up so I can change the sheets.”

“But it’s so cozy, hyung,” Jungkook whines, but Yoongi is already pulling himself out of Jungkook’s grip.

“I’ll help, hyung,” Yoongi laughs, smacking lightly at Jungkook’s hip to encourage him to roll off of the bed.

“While the rest of you are not helping,” Jin says, raising an eyebrow pointedly. “You can go take a shower.”

“That will take ages,” Jungkook grumbles.

“Not if we shower together,” Namjoon says, pulling him through the doorway as the others trail behind them.

“Don’t tell me the shower is going to be ten sizes bigger as well,” Jungkook scoffs.

“Probably not,” Taehyung chirps, racing past him to reach the bathroom first.

“Most likely only seven sizes bigger,” Jimin smirks.

When he finally falls into bed that night, he’s surrounded by his hyungs and warmer than he’s felt in years.

His gaze drifts over to the window, cracked open slightly to allow for the warm breeze to wash over them. It’s practically glowing outside, despite it being well past midnight, and Jungkook squints at what little of the sky he can see.

“Are the stars brighter than usual tonight?” Jungkook asks sleepily, pressing the words into the skin of Taehyung’s shoulder.

“I don’t think so,” Taehyung mumbles back, rolling his head to the side to look out of the window as well. “Looks the same to me.”

“No,” Jungkook mumbles, snuggling further into their embraces. “They’re definitely brighter.”

Jungkook returns to the shop later that week, at the urging of the forest. She doesn’t say it in so many words, but he can tell he’s supposed to go there.

Jin doesn’t question him as he jogs up next to him on his walk through the underbrush, sliding his hand swiftly into Jin’s and weaving their fingers together. He swings their arms happily as they walk, refusing to let go even when Jin needs to unlock the door, huddling in close at his back. He reluctantly pulls away once Jin gets behind the counter, though, making the familiar trek back through the shelves.

When he returns to Jin’s counter, he’s holding a set of paints in his hand.

“Do you like art, Jungkook-ah?” Jin asks, reaching a finger out to trace over the box, fingers trailing over the edges of Jungkook’s fingers in their pursuit.

“I used to,” Jungkook says, pursing his lips. “As a child.”

“Used to?” Jin asks, sitting down on the floor behind the counter and pulling Jungkook down with him. “What made you stop?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, leaning heavily into Jin’s side and stretching his legs out in front of him until they touch the wall. “Life, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Jin asks.

“Life doesn’t have room for that,” Jungkook shrugs, blowing a short breath through his nose.

“That?”

“Things that don’t matter,” Jungkook clarifies, rattling the box around between them until Jin’s hand comes up to stop him, fingers encircling his wrist lightly.

“And art doesn’t matter?” Jin prods, stroking his thumb along Jungkook’s inner wrist, right over his pulse point.

“Mine didn’t,” Jungkook says, pushing further into Jin’s grip.

“I doubt that,” Jin whispers.

“It would never have made me money, that’s for sure,” Jungkook laughs.

“And that makes it… not valuable?” Jin asks.

“Where I come from, yes,” Jungkook says, bowing his head a little to avoid Jin’s prying gaze.

“Well,” Jin huffs, bringing his other hand up to ruffle the top of Jungkook’s hair. “You’re here now, so why don’t you try again?”

“What would be the point?” Jungkook asks, but he has yet to let go of the box of paints in his hands.

“Does there have to be one?” Jin asks, laughing a little and jostling Jungkook in the process. He just huffs in response, a little frustrated as he rattles the paints back and forth.

“Would it make you happy?” Jin follows up, nudging him a little and Jungkook swallows, thinking.

“Maybe,” he settles on, finally pulling away from Jin and gathering the box of paints against his chest.

“Then, I think that’s a pretty good reason to try it out,” Jin says. He groans as he gets back to his feet, reaching his hand out to help Jungkook up as well. “The shop wanted you to have it either way.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but he keeps the paints close to his chest as he watches Jin close up shop. He trails behind Jin on the walk back through the forest, expertly dodging roots, now knowing where they are by muscle memory alone. Their home is just in sight when Jungkook speaks up again.

“It’s not like I could show it to anyone,” he says. “My art.”

“We would love to see it,” Jin argues, looking over his shoulder at Jungkook.

“Well, yeah,” Jungkook blushes. “But it’s just going to sit around and gather dust.”

“Art doesn’t have to be consumed to be worth making,” Jin says pointedly, pulling Jungkook up the front steps. “And for what it’s worth,” he continues, pausing in the open doorway, “I would never let your art gather dust.” He ushers Jungkook into their house. “Not while I’m around.”

(Jungkook spends the next week out in the garden, trying to capture the forest's beauty into a single frame.)

(It’s hung in the foyer the next day, front and center for anyone who walks into their home.)

(He gets paid for his work with soft kisses and praises, peppered across his skin. The soft morning glow of the sun comes trickling into Jungkook’s room through the slats in the blinds, lines of diffused light trailing across his stomach. He gasps when the others take the liberty of licking across those lines, following the rays of light with their mouths.)

(He decides that he likes art quite a lot.)

Before he knows it, Jungkook falls into a routine.

He wakes up, sometimes in his attic room, but most of the time snuggled up between one or two other bodies. He has family breakfast with his six hyungs all around the table, sometimes he helps cook, sometimes he helps set the table and sometimes he helps wash up.

On Mondays, he goes with Jin to the shop. The shop feels like home to him, warm and inviting, and she always has something new to show him. Passing time wandering through the shelves quickly becomes one of his favorite activities.

On Tuesdays, he accompanies Namjoon to the garden. He doesn’t have much of a green thumb, but he selfishly enjoys watching Namjoon work as he lays against the soft Earth. He often finds himself reaching out to wipe dirt off of Namjoon’s clothes, just as an excuse to feel his body heat beneath his palms, amplified by the sun’s rays (he only got away with it the first few times before Namjoon started shooting him a knowing smile). And at the end of the day, he gets to drag Namjoon to the sink in the kitchen, and thoroughly scrub the dirt from beneath his fingernails (happily receiving a kiss on the cheek for his efforts).

On Wednesdays, he joins Hoseok in the kitchen. Jungkook’s a pretty good cook, if he does say so himself, but the precision of potions are somewhat out of his wheelhouse. Hoseok is patient with him though, giving him small tasks around the kitchen and praising him for even the smallest of achievements (but most of the time he opts to just stand behind Hoseok at the stove, chin hooked over his shoulder and watching him work).

On Thursdays, he goes with Jimin through the forest to find ingredients for Hoseok or trinkets for Jin in the shop. He’s amazed by how vast of a space it is, although he’s pretty convinced it’s just an ever changing landscape (and if you ask Jimin, she’s shape-shifting simply for Jungkook’s enjoyment to “impress him” or so he says). Some days they happen upon a clearing with overgrown grass, almost a perfect circle cut out of the tree line. Some days they find a bit of the forest so thick, Jungkook can barely fit between the tree trunks. And still other days, they’ll find a dilapidated building of some kind, as if it was cut out of a different realm altogether. That’s where Jimin tends to find the best trinkets for the shop.

On Fridays, Yoongi takes him to the sunflower field, which now stays in bloom year-round. They patrol the outskirts of the forest together, reinforcing safety spells and making sure their home stays hidden. There’s something a bit eerie about traversing the outer edges of the forest like this. On his walks with Jimin, it seems never ending, but the illusion is shattered now. He gets to see exactly where she begins and ends (and it helps that Yoongi guides him around the perimeter with a steady hand on the small of his back). Yoongi doesn’t do this everyday though, often tending to their home by fixing chairs (that Namjoon tripped over) or leaky ceilings (from Jimin getting careless with the sprinkler system) or burn marks in the wall (from Taehyung’s star room).

On Saturdays, he spends most of his time in the house. If it’s a good day, and the universe is balanced, Taehyung will let him in his star room. But sometimes, when the stars are more active than usual, he contents himself with sitting in the hallway, ear pressed against the star room’s door. He knocks against the wood in a jumble of noises, just to hear Taehyung’s laughter filter under the door frame before he responds with his own series of knocks.

On Sundays, the shop stays closed. Jungkook vaguely wonders if customers show up regardless, unable to get in and get the thing they came here for, but he presumes that the shop wouldn’t lead anyone here if Jin wasn’t around to facilitate. 

Sundays are his favorite day by far, when they’re able to all lounge around and bask in each other’s company, laying in various piles with hardly any space between their bodies, exchanging lazy kisses and hushed words. 

Sometimes he spends the day painting, his favorite subject being the forest and her ever-changing landscape. It doesn’t matter what the final result is, Yoongi takes it from him and hangs it up on whatever available wallspace they have left and Jin makes a big show of dusting off the frame.

Every evening they have their family dinner before herding to the den, where they bring him his cup of forget-me-not tea. Jungkook still doesn’t like the taste of it, and he’s not sure it even does anything for him or his memories anymore, but he definitely likes the sweet smile that spreads across Namjoon’s face every time he takes a sip.

Before he found this place, his routine was anything but comforting. It was exhausting and lonely, and the only thing he looked forward to were his weekly train rides. 

But now, as Jungkook sips on his cup of tea, brewed lovingly by one of his hyungs – routine doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

It’s mundane, sure, but Jungkook’s starting to think there’s something a little magical about that.

He settles against Hoseok’s side, draping his legs across Yoongi’s lap so he has easy access to tap a rhythm against Jungkook’s kneecap. Jungkook takes another sip and almost chokes on it when he hears a train whistle filter in through the open window.

They all tense around the room, Yoongi’s fingers halting in their tempo and digging into his leg instead. Jungkook tilts his head up toward the window blinking at the leaves hanging below the frame as they dance and sway with the whims of the wind outside.

Jungkook can feel the others' eyes on him as he slowly turns away from the window and drains the last of the liquid from his teacup. He ignores the train whistle as it gets louder, before eventually fading into the distance, gone once again.

“Can I have another cup of tea, hyung?”