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English
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2017-04-09
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1/1
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call it magic, call it love

Summary:

"No matter how little control Youngjae may have over it right now, his magic is always in tune with him, reacting to his wants and wishes, just with more autonomy to do it like it wants to. "

(Or, Youngjae is a white witch who's rapidly losing control of his magic, all because of one Im Jaebum)

Notes:

This was inspired by 2jae's newest vlive and this. It just kinda grew from there. This is my first time writing for 2jae and got7 in general so any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated!

Huge thanks to my wonderful, wonderful beta who made this fic possible ♡♡

Now with amazing art!

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

Work Text:

“C’mon, hyung,” Yugyeom prods, his voice coming almost whiny through the phone Youngjae is holding up to his ear. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“I’m sure,” Youngjae sighs, swatting away the green vine that’s trying to wrap itself around his wrist and hissing at it to stay still before turning towards the phone again. “I really can’t today though.”

“But you can’t miss it,” Yugyeom tries again. “Jackson’s been planning this for a month now. It’s going to be the party of the year and-” there’s a sudden scuffle from the other side of the line, a crackle of static, and then Yugyeom voice cuts off. Something that sounds suspiciously like muffled screaming and angry cursing rattles through the phone, making Youngjae wince and hold the phone further away from his ear.

Youngjae,” comes a new voice, one Youngjae recognizes as Bambam’s. “You can’t ditch,” scolds the younger boy and the accusing tone of his voice makes Youngjae flinch guilty.

“I’m not, really,” Youngjae says as he makes his way to his cramped kitchen, skirting away from the wayward carnation bush that’s now practically crawling out of its windowsill pot and into his apartment. He’s careful not to step on any of its leaves, this plant is a particularly fuzzy one and Youngjae really doesn’t wants to have an infestation on his hands, not when he already has everything else to deal with. “I just, uh-”

“You said you were coming, Youngjae,” Bambam cuts in and Youngjae sighs. He’s been friends with Bambam long enough to know that the other boy won’t let this go so easily, he’s far too hard-headed for that. He rubs a tired hand over his face and pries his cold mug of tea from the vice grip his philodendron has it on, dodging the meaty leave that comes flying his way when he does. He shoots the potted plant a glare, hoping to intimidate it into submission, but all the philodendron does is shake its leaves at him, challenging.

Youngjae takes a long drink from his mug to stall, grimacing at the taste. Bambam is still chewing him off for trying to back out and Youngjae lets him talk, humming here and there to show that he’s listening.

Really, he had it coming. Youngjae had said that he was going to go to Jackson’s party after all. He had actually been looking forward to it, even if parties aren't really his kind of scene. A night of unwinding with all of his friends after a hellish exam week had sounded just about perfect when Yugyeom had brought the idea up a few weeks ago.

It doesn't sound half as nice now though, not when Youngjae can feel the usually tight grip he has over his magic slipping away as the moon slowly climbs towards its peak.

Still, that’s not an excuse he can tell his friends.

“I know I said I was going to be there,” Youngjae mumbles, ignoring the little boston fern that stretches it’s leaves out to him for Youngjae to pet in favor of trying to persuade Bambam of his innocence. “But I, uh -,” Youngjae fakes a cough, making a pitiful sound at the back of his throat in an effort to be as convincing as he can be, “- I’m sick.”

“It doesn’t sound that bad,” Bambam answers, unrelenting, and Youngjae holds back an annoyed groan. “Just drop by and stay for a few hours. We really want to see you.”

“I would, but I think is contagious,” Youngjae says, the words tangling on his tongue. Youngjae hates lying, he’s no good at it. His friends can usually tell when he’s being dishonest, Jaebum always seems notice at least. He says his forehead scrunches or something, Youngjae isn’t sure. He had asked the older boy one time but all Jaebum had done was smirk at him and wink. Youngjae had been too flustered after that to think about it any further. Right now he’s just grateful that he’s alone on his dorm dorm so no one can tell. “I just took a couple of sleeping pills and I’m gonna crash. I have a horrible headache.”

That part is true at least, Youngjae does have a headache. His magic is pounding against his skull, reacting to the power of the equinox and struggling against the bonds Youngjae has it in. It feels wrong to hold it back, makes him feels as if he were caged, trapped in his own body. Youngjae is used to having his magic always thrumming underneath his skin, just a call away from his fingers. He can’t let it loose now though, no matter how much he may want to. The equinox makes his magic too unstable for Youngjae to control it, too erratic and willful, almost like it gives it a conscious mind of his own.

The only thing he can do is lock himself in his apartment and wait for the moon to pass, let his magic return to normal. Youngjae can’t afford to go out to a party when he’s like this, not when he’s sure that copious amounts of alcohol and Jaebum are going to be involved. That combination is already dangerous enough on a normal day, never mind now, when he can feel his control over his magic rapidly fraying at the edges.

It’s better to disappoint his friends by not going to the party altogether than to accidentally turn them into a cactus if he does.

“I’m sorry,” he says again when all Bambam does is hum. “I’ll make it up to you guys, I promise. I just can’t right now.”

“Fine,” Bambam finally relents and Youngjae sighs in relief. “If you change your mind then you know where we’ll be. Get well soon.”

“Thanks,” Youngjae mumbles before the calls ends. He groans, shuffling into his living room and throwing his phone on the couch before thinking better of it and letting himself fall against it. He grabs a cushion and buries his face in it, letting out a muffled scream.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, face buried on his couch, listening in apprehension as his different plants slowly start to take over his dorm. He’s too tired and strung-out to do anything about it though, so he just lets them have free reign. He’ll deal with the mess in the morning, when his magic is back to normal and he feels more like himself.

Youngjae is just about to doze off when a sharp knock on his door snaps him awake. Groaning, he heaves himself up and stumbles his way towards the front of his dorm, almost tripping over the english ivy that’s now woven like a maze across his hallway.

He has half-a-mind to chew out whoever is standing outside his door, preventing him from going into blissful sleep, but then he opens the door and all words die on his throat.

It’s Jaebum, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, black shirt pulled tight over muscle, a black leather jacket slung over one shoulder and washed-out jeans hanging low (too low) on his hips.

“Hi,” Jaebum says, white teeth flashing and lips curling up into a perfect smile. Youngjae falters, heart stuttering in his chest. “Hi,” he mumbles back, trying to fight of a blush.

“Trying a new outfit for the party, are you?” Jaebum asks, quirking an eyebrow as he looks him up and down. Youngjae flushes, pulling the hem of his old yellow hoodie lower in an effort to hide the pokemon-patterned sweats he’s wearing.

“I, uh,” he stutters trying to regroup and failing. He hates how Jaebum can get him so flustered with just one look. It’s honestly a bit embarrassing, not to mention completely unfair. “I’m not going to the party, hyung. I’m sick.”

“Yes, I know, Yugyeom told me. I was just messing with you, Jae-ah,” Jaebum teases, ruffling Youngjae’s hair in a way that has him flushing pleasantly. “That’s why I’m here, actually,” he says. Jaebum holds up a plastic bag that Youngjae hadn’t noticed he was carrying until now, swinging it back and forth across his face. “I brought you that soup you like so much.”

“You didn’t have to,” Youngjae mumbles, but he can’t deny the pleased smile that break across his face. Knowing that Jaebum had gone out of his way like this makes something warm curl soft in his chest.

Jaebum shrugs. “I know, but I wanted to,” he says before he nods his head towards his apartment. “Now c’mon, let me in and I’ll cook it for you.”

“No!” Youngjae says before he can think better of it. Jaebum raises an eyebrow at him and Youngjae flinches, scrambling for any excuse. “I mean, uh - I’m fine on my own, really. I wouldn't want you to miss the party.”

“It’s just a party.” Jaebum rolls his eyes. “Jackson makes one every week or so. I’m sure I won’t miss much. C’mon, Youngjae, just let me take care of you.”

Youngjae kind of melts a little at that. Really, he wouldn't like anything better than to agree and let Jaebum in, but his dorm is a complete mess. There are plants everywhere, something not exactly unusual for him, but they’re moving now. He’s pretty sure he left his grimoire open on the living room too, not to mention that he has a new potion his mother wanted him to try out for her brewing in his kitchen.

Jaebum though, he’s nothing if not stubborn, especially when he puts his mind to something. And so before Youngjae can react the older boy is already pushing past him and into his apartment, kicking off his shoes and stepping over a chinese evergreen that really shouldn't be as big as it like it’s nothing.

Youngjae scrambles after him, tugging on Jaebum’s shirt and trying to keep him from reaching the kitchen. “Hyung, seriously,” he pleads, voice bordering on desperate as he gives a light kick to his bamboo palm to keep it from moving. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”

Jaebum hums. “You can’t even boil water, Youngjae,” he says with a dismissive wave his way as he takes a pot out of a drawer, making his way around Youngjae’s kitchen with no hesitation. Youngjae would have bristled at that were he not in the middle of wrangling his godforsaken philodendron into submission to keep the plant from wrapping itself around Jaebum’s ankles. “Just sit there and let me do this, will you?”

“Fine,” Youngjae relents. He takes a sit on the corner of his kitchen island, a great vantage point to keep an eye on his misbehaving plants, and watches as Jaebum cooks.

It’s strange, seeing Jaebum this way. He looks completely at peace in Youngjae’s kitchen, surrounded by Youngjae's many plants and homegrown ingredients. The black of his clothes is a sharp contrast to the overabundance of green Youngjae lives in, but it still seems to fit in somehow. Youngjae likes it, he thinks he won’t ever get tired of watching Jaebum moving around his home like it were his own. He lets himself relax, just soaking in on Jaebum’s quiet presence and listening to the way the older hums under his breath as he stirs the soup.

The thing with his magic though, Youngjae thinks as he watches the way his sunflowers turn away from the window where the sun is shining bright to face Jaebum instead, is that it’s still inherently his. No matter how little control Youngjae may have over it now, his magic is always in tune with him, reacting to his wants and wishes, just with more autonomy to do it like it wants to.

That’s why, Youngjae thinks morosely, this shouldn't have come as a surprise.

It happens in a blink of an eye. One second Youngjae is watching the slope of Jaebum’s shoulders as the older boy cooks and the next he’s scrambling towards him in panic to keep the goddamn philodendron from giving him away.

The plants has its leaves stretched out towards Jaebum, who’s chopping vegetables none the wiser. There’s a vine slowly wrapping itself around Jaebum’s waist and Youngjae, in his frazzled state, has no other idea but to sneak an arm around Jaebum’s waist himself to hide the vine and plaster himself against Jaebum chest to keep the philodendron out of sight.

“Uh, Jae-ah?” Jaebum asks, quirking an eyebrow down at him. There’s a light smirk curling up his lips and his face in an expression of amusement. Youngjae shuts his eyes in embarrassment. “What are you doing?”

“I uh,” Youngjae gulps, tightening his grip on Jaebum when he spots the cursed philodendron rearing up behind Jaebum and inching closer. “The soup just smelled really nice, that’s uh, yeah…” he trails off, half-wishing for the earth to swallow him whole already.

“I’m glad,” Jaebum answers. “But I still need to finish it, so.”

“Yeah, god, sorry. Of course,” Youngjae stutters. He unwraps himself from Jaebum, instantly missing the older’s warmth. He goes to step away, but something keeps him firmly locked in place. When he looks down, he realizes that the english ivy had snuck around them both, a vice-like grip on their waists.

“Not that I mind having you this close, Jae-ah,” Jaebum says, voice warm and teasing when Youngjae doesn't move away from him, “but the soup is gonna burn if you don’t let go.”

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae says, struggling against the ivy, but the plant doesn’t give an inch. Youngjae sends a pulse of magic towards it to make the ivy stop but it goes haywire, and it only ends up thickening the ivy, making its hold stronger than it already was. Youngjae wriggles around harder, trying to get free, but his feet catch on something and he stumbles.

Jaebum lets a short gasp of surprise when he sees Youngjae begin to fall and he wraps an arm around Youngjae to keep him from hitting the ground. The force is too strong though, and they both go crashing down to the ground.

Youngjae hits the floor with a dull thud, back arching from the pain. Jaebum falls over him, just barely managing to catch himself on his elbows at the last moment. He ends up hovering just above Youngjae, arms caging him in.

There’s a moment of quiet when all Youngjae can do is stare at Jaebum’s lips, hovering only a few inches away from his own because of how close they are, but then, before Youngjae can shout out a warning, the philodendron’s meaty leaf lands a hit on Jaebum’s back and Jaebum lurchers forward.

Jaebum’s lips meet his in a clash of teeth. The move is more clumsy than pleasant, but the touch still has Youngjae’s eyes fluttering shut. Youngjae can’t help the small moan that breaks past his lips and he flushes in embarrassment, covering his face with his hands the moment Jaebum’s lips leaves his.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, peeking at Jaebum from between his fingers to try and gauge his reaction.

“What?” Jaebum asks, forehead scrunched as he looks down at Youngjae, who’s still struggling to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae repeats, burrowing his face in his hands again so that he won’t have to look at Jaebum anymore. “For the kiss.”

“Hey,” Jaebum says, hands coming up to intertwine with Youngjae’s own and Youngjae flinches. “Hey, no Jae-ah, it’s fine.”

“It was an accident,” Youngjae babbles, still reeling. “I don't know what happened. I’m really, really sorry- wait, what?” Youngjae falters, what Jaebum said finally clicking in place. “What do you mean it’s fine?

“I uh, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” Jaebum admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and holding up a hand for Youngjae to take, heaving him up from the ground. “I don’t regret it, though I would have liked to make the first move myself and not your plant over there.” Jaebum jabs a thumb towards the philodendron. The plant waves a leave happily back at him.

“I uh, I can explain that,” Youngjae says but Jaebum just chuckles at him.

“You don’t have to,” he says, stretching out a hand to brush a strand of hair out of Youngjae's face and making Youngjae’s heart start to race all over again. “I know that you’re a wizard, warlock, whatever.”

“White witch actually,” Youngjae says before he can think better of it, then, “wait, you knew?

“Kind of hard not to notice when you sneeze flower petals,” Jaebum answers, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at Youngjae fondly. Youngjae flushes bright red.

“And you don’t mind?” he asks, even if he doesn’t think Jaebum will, he stills need to hear it from the boy himself.

“Of course not,” he says and Youngjae breathes just that little bit easier. “Just don’t turn me into a plant and we should be good.”

“Excuse you, I have never-” Youngjae starts to say but then Jaebum’s lips are on his again and the words die with the first touch of their mouths. The kiss is softer this time, gentler, but with an edge to it that speaks of months of waiting and yearning. Youngjae lets himself melt into it, sinking into Jaebum’s warmth without hesitation just like he has wanted to from the very beginning.

A vine of ivy wraps itself around them both, pulling them closer and Jaebum chuckles. He rests his forehead against Youngjae’s and fiddles with the plant. “I’m not going anywhere, you know,” he says, lips brushing against his with every whispered word. “You don't need your plants to keep me here.”

“Shut up,” Youngjae grumbles, fighting off a blush and hitting Jaebum’s chest lightly. “It’s the equinox, it makes my magic go all fussy.”

Jaebum just smiles at him and leans down for another kiss, kind enough not to mention the fact that the moon is long past it’s peak.

Notes:

tag yourself I'm the philodendron

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