Where Moon Meets Sea

by Charmander

Summary:

With humankind’s suspicion of witches on the rise, Park Jimin decides it’s time to leave behind the cramped tenements of his home city and carve out a new life for himself. A far-off swamp with a long-abandoned hut seems like the perfect place to start over and practice his magic, safe and uninterrupted.

But the waters here run deep, their secrets even deeper. And one such secret seems very, very interested in luring Jimin into its grasp.

Chapter 1

Notes:

Uh??? Surprise! This fic was absolutely unplanned and unintentional. It was an idea that came to me suddenly and then just burst out of me in, like, a week. Literally don't know what possessed me but here we are KAJDKJFDK it was supposed to be porn without plot and then............ yeah.

I know it's a few days after his birthday, but in my head I always viewed this as Jungkook's birthday fic since I knew I'd be posting it close to the day and this is one of my favorite Jungkooks I've ever written 🥹 so happy belated JK day!!!!!

Uhh, I don't have many notes for once, other than:
1) I know that classic sirens in mythology are, like, feathery bird people LMAO but this uses the more modern interpretation of them being more like merpeople, so... yeah, that's all.
2) If Jimin sleeping with a fishman and sometimes playing with his tail (if you know what I mean) freaks you out, then maybe don't read this AJSKDJFKD I swear it's a lot more wholesome than it sounds, though.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

A hiss slips through Jimin’s teeth as he pulls his hand away from the weathered wooden walls of an overgrown hut. He grips his pointer finger with his other hand, squeezing around the splinter there and pouting his lower lip out.

He steps deeper into the hut as he presses his finger to his mouth and sucks at the splinter, eyes darting around the small, ramshackle space. With a little time and a lot of magic, he can fix this place up into a home for himself. It’s already better than the tenements back in the city. Here, he’s right in the heart of nature, everything he needs for his spells at the tips of his fingers.

Fewer eyes on him too. No one to judge what he does or wants to do.

Leaving behind the sagging steps and the door that hangs on a single, rusted hinge, Jimin ducks inside where the roof droops low. Some of the windows are shattered, leaving sharp edges like jagged, broken teeth. From a distance, this place looked like little more than the hunched back of a massive, green beast, the roof covered in vines and haunted by the shadows of massive mangrove trees that surround it.

Jimin slips the strap of his bag off over his head and sets it on a rickety table in the middle of the room. It sways under the weight of his grimoire while Jimin rubs at a knot in his shoulder. The vines above continue around the rest of the hut like a giant’s arms hugging the building, guarding it from the elements. It hasn’t done the best job of that, though, given the pockmarked, dull grey of the wood, and telltale signs of insects infesting in the absence of a keeper.

“Well, what do we think?” he asks out loud before he returns to working on the splinter, managing to get his teeth on it and pull it out. He spits it out to the side and then licks away the droplet of blood it leaves behind.

The floor creaks behind him, bare feet padding across rotten wood to stand beside Jimin. Taehyung places his hands on his hips as he looks around, nose wrinkled. He wears nothing but a ragged pair of shorts and a shredded sleeveless shirt, looking every bit like he just climbed out of the swamp himself, his hair a wild mess.

“Could be worse,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I’ll spend most of my time outside anyway, so you have fun living in this… lovely little home you’ve found for us.”

“Better than being crushed into a tiny room like a sardine in the city,” Jimin says as he makes his way over to the fireplace and squats down in front of it. An old cauldron sits on its side, the handle broken on one side and bent at a strange angle. He picks it up and turns to Taehyung. “First spell in the new house?”

Taehyung arches a brow at him, then steps back and reaches into the pouch hanging at his hip. Every time he moves, his skin glints in the sunlight that manages to trickle through filthy windows. He can mostly pass for a human in this form, but the iridescent scales all across his body give him away, as well as the slitted black pupils.

Luckily, there’s no one around them out here, so Jimin’s loyal familiar doesn’t have to hide away in his snake form quite as much.

Taehyung squats down and blows at the floor, dust flying. He brings his hand up to cover his face, then frowns at Jimin, who quickly sets the cauldron next to his grimoire, tempting fate as the table sways even more. Without pause or consideration for where the dust will go, Jimin points at the floor in front of Taehyung.

A gust of wind rips through the broken parts of the window behind Jimin and rushes across the floor. Whispers fill the room as the wind swirls, Jimin’s cloak whipping up around him, his hood plastered to the side of his face. Anyone else would think it’s simply the sigh of decaying wood under pressure, but Jimin can recognize distinct voices within the wind, though he never knows what they say, before it quiets back down.

All that is left is the croaking of frogs outside and the dull drone of insects that call the swamp home. And a freshly cleaned floor, wood left bare for them to draw their spell circle on.

Jimin smiles before he looks at Taehyung—hair blown back, dust covering his clothes and a frown on his face as he stares up at Jimin, blinking his dark eyes at him slowly.

“Oops,” Jimin says, and then he points at Taehyung, wind swirling around him again, his hair flying around him, clothes fluttering until he’s mostly dusted off. Taehyung’s hair stands on end as he glares at Jimin, then he slowly pats it back down. “Well, the floor is clean now.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung grumbles before he pulls a piece of chalk from his pouch and starts drawing.

Jimin continues wandering through the hut. There isn’t much to explore, but he’s curious about whoever the former tenant was. They clearly haven’t been here in a long time, leaving the place to rot away, cobwebs filling every corner and dust motes dancing through the air. It smells musty too, especially when he gets closer to the bed shoved into the corner.

“You’re not actually thinking about sleeping on that, are you?” Taehyung asks, on all fours as he stretches to draw the other side of the spell circle, carefully shaping each and every symbol. “You’ll be eaten alive by bed bugs, I can almost guarantee.”

“I have a spell for that too,” Jimin says, and then he plops right onto the edge of the bed and kicks his feet out. The bed creaks and bows beneath his weight, and he grimaces, teeth bared as he glances down. Jimin quickly pops back up and places his hands on his hips as Taehyung rises as well, amused by Jimin’s optimism about their current predicament.

It’s still better than the tenements. They just won’t be able to settle in quite as comfortably as he hoped without putting in a good bit of work first.

“Well, at least we have something to drink if we get thirsty while cleaning.” Taehyung gestures at a crooked nightstand, which leans heavily on the bed to keep itself upright. Atop it sits a half-empty bottle of strange, murky liquid.

Jimin scrunches his face at it, then nods at Taehyung. “We should get started,” he says as he snatches up the broken cauldron and sets it in the middle of the circle. He hears another creak and then a snap, and he looks back just in time to see the table with his grimoire bend and break, one leg giving out and sending the whole thing crashing to the floor.

He stares at it for a moment, lip between his teeth as he sucks in air. There’s a click of Taehyung’s tongue before they both look at each other. Taehyung shakes his head back and forth, lips pursed and eyes fluttering in irritation.

“If I wasn’t already bound to you, Park Jimin,” he says, pointing a finger as he towers over Jimin’s squatting form, “I swear to the gods, I would have bound myself to a handsome, rich noble instead.”

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Despite the hut’s rotten log foundation quite literally sinking into the muck below, Jimin finds this place promising. He hops past the three steps that lead into the hut and lands directly on the soft ground below, afraid that any weight on the steps might break them. His bare feet sink ever so slightly as he takes quick steps toward the canopy of trees nearby.

The hut sits near the edge of a clearing, a winding pathway in one direction that leads back to the road that brought them here, and what looks like a long unused footpath toward the water. The air is thick with the scent of saltwater, decaying leaves, and blooming flowers. So much better than the fetid streets of the city.

There’s a small pond within view of the hut’s kitchen window, and Jimin stops by it to study the broken remnants of what he thinks used to be a dock. He squats down and pulls something from within the murky water. A thick, waterlogged rope rests in his hands, the end of it frayed as though it had been cut or ripped apart. Once upon a time, it was likely used to hold a boat in place, so Jimin abandons it without any further thought and continues toward the trees.

A snake winds around Jimin’s neck like a scarf, making himself at home there as the newly repaired cauldron swings from Jimin’s arm. The snake’s tongue flicks out, his head rising to peek around the mangroves, searching for threats or scouting for good areas to harvest in.

“Calm down, Tae,” Jimin says, gently pressing two fingers atop the snake’s head until he relaxes, tongue darting out again. “I already set up wards that will tell us if anything gets too close. We’re safe here.”

His spells can’t reach too far yet—he’s not that powerful—but it covers a wide enough area for him to find water and catch shellfish. Further north, the swamp meets with a river from the nearby mountains, crashing with the saltwater area the hut is in to create brackish waters. Most of his harvesting will have to be done there if he wants any kinds of berries or other fruits besides the mangrove apples he’s already spotted, so he’ll have to take a short walk.

But that’s fine. He likes exploring, and he has all day long to do whatever he wants here. He has no responsibilities except those he chooses to have now.

“You know, this would have been easier if you hadn’t turned back into a snake,” Jimin says as he stops at one of the mangrove trees. It looks promising, the twisted branches strong and thick enough to hold him up as he climbs. With an enchantment on his cauldron, he barely feels the weight of it at all.

The cauldron dangles from his arm as he makes his way up, shaking hair from his eyes as he looks to the canopy. He wiggles his way through the tangled mess, up to the top where he can find a number of bromeliads, their cup-like structures holding water from recent rains. Situating himself on the branches so he can comfortably straddle a particularly thick one, he snaps his fingers and makes the cauldron hover in front of him, then begins to tip one of the bromeliads until water spills from it into the cauldron.

Nothing about this is efficient, but Jimin had foolishly come here without much of a plan, so he simply has to make do with what he has. After years in the city, never fitting in, always being the outsider, he was too eager to get out.

He doesn’t want to take too much water from these plants for the sake of their own health, but it will do for now. At least until he has a better way to filter and boil large amounts of water in the future.

Jimin continues scooting along the branches until the cauldron is nearly full, and then he snaps his fingers again and lets it descend on its own as he climbs down. Taehyung tucks his little snake head beneath Jimin’s shirt to protect himself from any rogue leaves or branches that might hit him, and then Jimin lands on solid ground again with a thud. The cauldron floats right into his hands.

He pauses a moment and turns back to the mangroves he had climbed, bowing to them and whispering a thank you for the water before he leaves. Never take from nature without letting it know that its sacrifice is appreciated. That’s Jimin’s cardinal rule.

The sun is well on its way to setting by the time Jimin finds his way back to the clearing, Taehyung’s tongue flicking out to smell the air again. Jimin breathes in the salty, humid air, cauldron hugged to his stomach, a smile on his face. Even full of water, it won’t be too hard to carry this back, the enchantment still partially in place so the cauldron carries most of its own weight.

Taehyung’s head rises up suddenly, his tongue rapidly darting in and out, and Jimin freezes in place. He curls his toes into the mud, his pulse racing when he hears a low humming from somewhere deeper in the swamp. It almost sounds like someone singing, a beautiful, lilting sound that drifts through the mangroves and across murky waters. Beautiful, yet haunting.

Something stings Jimin’s collarbone. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose as he looks down, glaring at where Taehyung sinks his fangs into Jimin—a warning from him to hurry up and get back to the hut.

That’s all Jimin needs in order to know there’s some kind of danger nearby. He sprints for their home, an oppressive silence settling over the swamp. Every living thing has gone quiet, nothing but distant singing and Jimin’s frantic footsteps filling the air now.

He’s out of breath by the time he gets back, some of the water from the cauldron covering the front of his shirt now. At least the singing seems to have stopped as he squats and sets the cauldron down, head bowed to catch his breath. Taehyung unwinds from around Jimin’s neck and slides down his back, then flops to the ground.

Strange, unidentified sounds and creepy creatures are nothing new to Jimin, but those are usually things he’s summoned or prepared for. Back home, he had complete control over everything—most of the time, at least. This place is foreign to him, though. He has no idea what’s out here.

“Hello?”

Jimin yelps and leaps back from the cauldron, tripping over himself and hitting the ground hard. All air rushes from his lungs, and he can hear someone let out an “oof” of commiseration. His face reddens as realization sinks in, and he slowly props himself up on his elbows to search for the witness.

In front of him stands a young human man, wide eyes studying Jimin and hands outstretched like he wants to help but isn’t sure he should touch Jimin. He shuffles forward, black hair curling along the most perfect nose Jimin has ever seen and a toothy smile appearing.

“So sorry,” the man says when he finally decides to reach out. Jimin takes his hand and grunts when he’s pulled to his feet. “I live just down the road. You might have seen the farmlands on your way here from the village? I work there and was in the fields when I saw you come down this way. I was hoping I wasn’t too late…”

“Too late?” Jimin asks as he brushes himself off. He glances around in search of Taehyung, then back toward the mangroves as though expecting that voice to start singing again. It was probably just this guy humming on his way here and Jimin confused himself in his panic, making himself think it came from the other direction.

“Yeah, it’s— Oh, I’m Hoseok, by the way,” the man says, snatching Jimin’s hand back up to shake it, and then he lets go just as quickly. He shoves his hands in his pockets, bouncing on his toes. He seems almost giddy to be here, or maybe he’s anxious, judging by the way his eyes keep darting around the clearing. “I wanted to check on you because it’s really dangerous out here. There are… a lot of things out here that people aren’t prepared for. What are you even doing here?”

Jimin smiles and gestures at the hut. “I live here.”

Hoseok stares at the house, mouth hanging open. He takes a long moment to really absorb what he’s seeing—every decrepit inch of the hut, the busted door, the broken windows. Blinking a few times, Hoseok finally looks at Jimin again.

“Do you need help?” he asks, and Jimin titters, hand clapped over his mouth. “This place is— I mean, no one has lived here for years. Are you… safe?”

Jimin nods, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps smiling. Now that the panic has faded, he just finds this hilarious. This must be the strangest thing Hoseok has encountered in months, maybe even years. Without knowing Jimin, it doesn’t make sense to see a seemingly sweet and innocent young man, all bright-eyed and plump-cheeked, living in a swamp alone.

Hell, even knowing Jimin, it probably wouldn’t make sense.

“Oh, you have a bite,” Hoseok says, pointing at Jimin’s collarbone. At first, he just seems surprised, but then concern washes over his face and he gasps. “Oh! You have a bite! That could be poisonous! There are so many deadly things out here—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Jimin assures him, waving one hand casually to dismiss Hoseok. “It was just my… pet snake. Thank you, though. I appreciate your concern. About everything.”

Hoseok stares at him, eyes wide and curious as he glances over Jimin from head to toe. He nods slowly, and then he shrugs and smiles, still perplexed. “Well, um, I’m glad you’re okay. If you’re… really living here,” he says with another uncertain glance at the hut, “I’m happy to be your friendly neighbor. I can bring eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables. We have just about anything you could need.”

“Oh.” Jimin straightens up, chest puffed up and smile widening. “Well, thank you. That’s really kind of you. I don’t… have anything to offer in return yet. But I’m very good at making herbal remedies. Maybe once I’ve settled in, I can trade you.”

“Sounds perfect,” Hoseok says before he glances back at the setting sun, then deeper into the swamp. His smile falls, and Jimin’s heart sinks with it. A chill runs up his spine, the hairs on his neck standing up. Hoseok’s stare makes him want to turn around and look behind himself, but he forces himself not to. “Please be careful here. This place is really dangerous. And there are… animals here that sometimes hurt people.”

“Like what?” Jimin asks, the words spilling from him, his heart pounding.

“Things. In the water.” Hoseok’s throat bobs as he gulps, his arms wrapping around himself. None of the bubbly personality shows through anymore. He seems terrified, ready to turn and bolt back up the pathway. “There are rumors of monsters. Sea monsters.”

Jimin arches his brow at Hoseok, cocking his head at him playfully. “In a swamp?”

“Well, we are on the coast here. The tidal channels run right to the sea,” Hoseok says with a shrug as he takes a hesitant step back. He looks toward the path again. “You never know. People have gone missing here, though. People have seen things. If you ever make your way back into the village past my farm, the people there have plenty of stories. So just be very, very careful. And if you need to stay at the farm until this hut is…”

He looks at it, searching for some way to describe what it isn’t, currently.

“Livable?” Jimin offers, and Hoseok nods curtly.

“Yes. That.”

Jimin waves him off again. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Thank you for the warnings, but I promise I know how to take care of myself. I will take you up on that offer for milk, though. I love milk.”

A creak sounds from inside the hut, and Hoseok’s eyes immediately snap to it. Jimin hops right over the cauldron and heads for the steps, nearly stepping on the first one before he remembers it will likely snap beneath him.

“You should head back before it’s completely dark,” Jimin says as he laces his hands behind himself, swaying slightly, face scrunched up in the biggest smile he can manage. Anything to disarm Hoseok and get him to go before he realizes too much. “If it’s so dangerous here, you probably don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Well, yes, but at least I’m not near the water.”

Jimin slowly nods along with Hoseok’s words. He doesn’t entertain Hoseok’s concern any longer, eager to send him off before this man tries harder to convince him to leave. Jimin passed through the village and the farmlands on his way here. He could have chosen to stay in the tavern for a few nights while trying to fix this place up, but he doesn’t want that.

He wants to be here. Alone and free.

“Okay, well,” Hoseok says as he begins walking backward down the path. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. You would have passed right by my house on your way here, so… don’t hesitate. And good luck. With everything.”

Jimin nods again, bouncing on his toes, his patience wearing thin. He waves at Hoseok as he begins to disappear into the dusky distance. Jimin turns to the hut, but is quickly pulled back by a voice again.

“Wait, I never asked your name!” Hoseok calls back to him, hands cupped around his mouth.

“It’s Jimin!”

Hoseok pauses for a moment, then nods and gives Jimin a thumbs up. “Nice to meet you, Jimin! Don’t die tonight!”

Jimin gives him a thumbs up back, watching until Hoseok turns around and heads for the road at a hurried pace. Once he’s out of sight, Jimin looks into the inky blackness inside the hut. A flicker of flame appears and casts an orange glow over Taehyung’s face.

“Humans are so annoying,” he says, staring in Hoseok’s direction as his eyes narrow, and then he smiles at Jimin. “Not you. Most of the time.”

“Well, you damn near made me shit my pants over some random farmer coming to check on us,” Jimin says, head shaking at Taehyung, who now leans in the doorway of the hut with his arms crossed. He sticks his forked tongue out at Jimin. “You can carry the cauldron in now that the enchantment has worn off. Make up for biting me.”

He darts into the hut, snatching the candle from Taehyung’s hand and setting it on their newly fixed table. Jimin squats down in front of the fireplace again, rubbing his hands together over the wood they had gathered until a spark ignites between his fingers. Flame bursts to life in front of him, and Taehyung joins him with the cauldron to begin boiling the water.

It will be a slow start to get settled here, but Jimin has a good feeling. This place called to him from the moment he saw it. When he came here months ago to gather ingredients he couldn’t find in the city, he knew he had to come back.

He doesn’t know why or what about this place kept haunting him, but he would dream about it every night until he decided to return. He couldn’t get it off his mind. This place compels him, and now that he’s here, he just wants to sit and coexist with the nature here, until it spills all of its secrets to him.

Every dream he had made him feel as though this place needs someone like him to listen to it. It called out, over and over and over, and Jimin was the only one to answer.

For some reason, he is meant to be here.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Work on the hut goes quickly with the use of a few spells and the summoning of some helpers. There’s a spell circle in the middle of the floor indefinitely for now, Jimin and Taehyung constantly using it to fix up yet another broken object in their home. In the week since they started working, they’ve managed to fix up the cupboards in the tiny kitchen area, the nightstand, and the windows.

“Should we draw a spell circle around the bed?” Taehyung asks as he and Jimin stand around its crooked frame and ruined mattress. “I don’t want to drag that thing across the floor just to fix it. I’m not even using the bed, so I’m not that committed.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jimin pops his lips together, hands on his hips as he inspects the bed. It’s heavier than it looks, and the space here is so small and cramped already, shifting it into the spell circle to piece it back together will be a nightmare. “Do you think Yoongi would help us?”

Taehyung snorts. “If you keep summoning him for stuff like this, he’s going to blacklist you from ever summoning another demon again.”

“Boo.” Jimin groans and throws his head back. He turns on his heel and snatches his bag off the table. “Well, we’ll worry about that later. It’s usable. At least I got rid of the bugs. And rodents. And… everything.”

He squats down in front of the open cupboards, digging through his bag to find all of his ingredients—his jars of herbs and crystals, his tools, his mortar and pestle. As he reaches in, it engulfs his entire arm, items finding their own way to his hand as he visualizes them. Moving out to this place would have been a nightmare without enchantments, but a bottomless bag is just about the only thing a witch with a hoarding habit needs.

A banging sounds from across the room, and Jimin looks over his shoulder to see Taehyung making an attempt to beat the door into submission. He pauses to meet Jimin’s eyes, then shrugs.

“We have to fix it eventually,” he says.

“I don’t think slamming a hammer against a rusty hinge is helping—”

But the banging continues, rattling the hut until it feels like the whole place might collapse. It roars through Jimin’s head, but he just continues tucking away his supplies. He stands up to stretch his legs, setting his bag on the counter and looking out the window, out to the mangroves and the water, and the singing.

They’ve heard it almost every night since meeting Hoseok, so Jimin’s theory that it was just the human humming on his way to see them has been swiftly shot down. He feels mesmerized when he looks out there, wondering what else lives within this place. He just has to know.

Last night, he had another dream, but this time he was in the water, submerged in murky depths, eyes stinging with floating debris as he turned in circles to find something. The frustrating part of it all is that he doesn’t know what he was looking for, just that he knew he needed to find it. All he could see were the spindly fingers of underwater weeds as they danced around him, almost like they were alive and reaching out to him, tickling along his bare skin as he sank deeper and deeper.

With every second that passed, the few rays of sunlight that penetrated the water grew further and further away from him until he was in complete darkness. He never felt like he was drowning, just sinking and lost and frantic to find whatever was calling out to him.

And then the singing began again, and that’s when he woke up.

Even when awake, though, the singing didn’t stop, so Jimin tells himself he only dreamed of that because he could actually hear it even while unconscious. At this point, he might have to investigate the noise just so it will let him get a full night of sleep.

A sudden screech rips across the small space of the hut, like metal bending and folding beneath itself, wood splintering and cracking. He turns just in time to see the door falling from its one, sad hinge, and crashing down the steps outside.

Taehyung stands in the doorway with his hammer raised, staring at the door as it hits the ground with a thud and a splat. His head slowly turns to look at Jimin, and then he shrugs.

“Well,” Taehyung says, his smile a little sheepish. He brushes his hair back from his face, but the unruly, dirty blonde locks just fall right back into his eyes. “We needed a new one anyway.”

Jimin heaves a sigh, fingers tapping along the counter, and then he shrugs right back. “Okay, well, let’s break it apart and put it in the spell circle, I guess.”

 

 

Once the door is fixed and set back in place—now with two hinges, which Jimin shaped in the spell circle by scavenging broken bits of metal tools in the hut—they get to work on crafting traps for shellfish and situating them in the water within view of the kitchen window. They can only survive for so long on the dried foods Jimin had packed with him when they left the city.

In the northern, freshwater areas of the swamp, they can find a stream to gather water more efficiently, though for now they have Taehyung working on tightly weaving a basket and lining it with leaves to collect rainwater.

While he works on that, Jimin takes a much less sturdy basket and heads out into the tangles of the swamp to find mangrove apples and maybe an edible fern or two. He has studied his plants well enough to recognize anything and everything he knows they can consume safely, and by the time the sun has set, he has a decent collection of apples and leaves and fleshy greens.

His arms are covered in bits of dirt and plant debris from reaching into the water to harvest, muck stuck under his nails and coated on his skin all the way up his ankles. It’s messy work, but he loves it so much more than simply walking to the market and having to make up excuses as to why he needs so many herbs.

Back in the city, there is no freedom for people like Jimin. It’s difficult enough to be registered and approved as a witch even when one never steps out of line and follows every rule. But magic, to him, is boring when it’s so limited. He grew tired of casting benevolent little spells to heal or repair things, or basic enchantments like he used on his bag or cauldron.

He was never allowed to explore or test his limits. Witches are carefully monitored in cities, their magic limited according to the regulations of each particular region. Jimin was never even officially registered since his magic wasn’t considered strong enough to be a danger yet. He never passed any of the tests required to start up his own shop or practice.

But that’s exactly how he wanted it. No one has any right to know what he can or can’t do with his own magic. And they especially don’t get to tell him what to do. The only people he has ever hurt with his magic deserved it.

Why should government officials get to decide whether or not he gets revenge against people who have wronged him or others? Why should they get to know what he used to do in his cramped room in the tenements? It’s no one’s business but his and Taehyung’s. No one needs to know if they’re huddled around a circle of candles and a pretty demon who grants all their wishes.

The squish of mud around Jimin’s feet brings him back to the present, the earthy and slightly sulfuric smell of the swamp wafting up around him. Some people might find it unpleasant, but Jimin only feels closer to nature when each of his senses are dominated by it.

He sees twisted and gnarled branches, tangled roots and decomposed plant matter piled along a nigh invisible path. Green and brown and turbid greys. Hears the splash of fish and the hum of the insects that they leap and hunt for. Feels the humid, heavy air as it presses in on him. Tastes salt on the air.

The clearing is a little less overpowering than when he explores the labyrinth of mangroves, but the swamp’s personality never leaves him, even when he’s safely locked away in his hut.

Wiping his feet against the thick, knotted grass at the edge of the mangrove forest, Jimin decides in that moment that they’ll need to rig up some kind of water system outside of the hut for a quick way to wash off before stepping inside.

Jimin pauses to breathe in the fresh air, eyes closed against a slight breeze. The moon is so bright tonight, he should gather himself a jar of moon water before the full moon passes, maybe cast a few spells that require a little more power. He can draw on the moon’s energy tonight. It lights up the clearing so beautifully, he could work by moonlight alone, accompanied by the fireflies that float by so serenely.

He hitches his basket up to the crook of his elbow and takes one step toward the hut before he hears something from deep within the swamp. Jimin glances back toward the mangroves, then at the hut again. His heart skips when he realizes that he hears that singing again.

Just like the first night and every night since, singing flows over the swamps from somewhere in its depths, and it draws Jimin in like a spell. His foot shifts in the mud, sinking in slightly as water rushes up around his ankle. His mouth runs dry, a nervous pulse beating through him. With one more glance back at the hut, Jimin ignores his better judgment and takes another step toward the depths.

Then another.

And another.

Before he knows it, the canopy has hidden him from the moon again, the mangrove roots curling around him as he squeezes between them. That voice grows louder and louder with every step, the only other sound being that of the quick, sharp breaths Jimin takes and the squish of muck beneath his feet.

It’s like there’s a tether tied to the center of his chest, dragging him deeper and deeper. Every tug of that tether is another thud of his heart, pounding so hard he feels it in his throat, in his skull, all the way to the tips of his fingers. Blood rushes in his ears as he breaks free from the mangroves, his foot slipping in the mud and nearly sending him into a pool of water.

His arm lashes out to grab at the trees, catching himself just in time to scramble back to safety, his basket swinging dangerously around his wrist now. He has no idea how deep the water is here or what’s in it. The mangroves split away from each other enough here for him to see the stagnant surface of the water, but he sees nothing that should be the cause of that singing. He doesn’t even hear it anymore.

Jimin squints into the darkness, scanning the area in hopes of finding some flicker of candlelight or lantern light. Anything to indicate that there’s someone else camping out in this swamp for some reason. Maybe it’s just a trick of the wind as it rushes up the tidal channels from the sea.

Nothing makes sense here, but that’s why Jimin came here in the first place. He wants to understand it, so he pushes on.

A loud splash echoes through the stark silence, tearing a gasp from Jimin as he grips the mangrove root tighter, his eyes bugging out of his head. He can see something in the water, just a slight bump in the surface and ripples emanating outward from it. It rises more, the sound of singing beginning to fill the air again.

Jimin leans out over the water, furrowing his brows at whatever it is that swims ever closer to him. He’s outside of his wards right now. There’s nothing to warn him about what this is or what it will do to him.

And then it ducks back beneath the water.

Fear spikes through Jimin as he turns to pull himself back to solid land, the water sloshing behind him as that thing moves at a rapid pace. He feels something cool and wet wrap around his ankle and tug, and Jimin screams. He throws his basket toward the water, toward whatever is holding onto him, wrenching himself free and lunging into the embrace of the mangrove roots again.

His breath hits his lungs in painful waves as he runs, struggling through the claustrophobic squeeze of overgrowth until he manages to break through the worst of it. Plants whip across his face and sting everywhere on his skin, his toes cracking against a root as he trips.

Jimin spills out of the mangroves and into the clearing, landing chest first into wet grass. Filthy water splashes into his mouth, but he pushes himself back to his feet and sprints, no longer held back by the swamp’s grappling limbs.

Behind him, he can hear the singing again, this time louder. This time, almost more like a wail.

Tears rush down Jimin’s cheeks and he doesn’t even know why, but they don’t stop until he bursts through the front door of the hut and crashes to the floor at Taehyung’s feet. Jimin whips around to slam the door shut, his familiar’s wide eyes watching, slightly offended at the intrusion.

Just before the door closes and Taehyung steps forward to slide the lock into place, a shriek rings out across the swamp—loud, chilling, agonized.

The moment that it stops, Jimin throws himself to the floor again and lets a sob rip from his chest.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Jimin stirs from his slumber to the feeling of paper slapping against his face and the sound of someone singsonging, “Wakey, wakey, human.”

He groans and rolls over to bury his face into the pillow, waving off the finger that pokes the back of his head. He feels the covers tug down past his shoulders, leaving him bare before he yanks them back up.

“Taehyung, stop!” Jimin swings blindly, smacking Taehyung’s hand away, but the second he touches it, Jimin feels white-hot pain rush up his arm. He gasps as he flips onto his back, eyes squeezed shut, hand clutched to his chest as his limb burns as though it’s been dipped in boiling hot oil. He feels the heat lick all the way up until it almost reaches his heart, and then it stops as suddenly as it began.

Jimin sucks in rapid breaths through rounded lips, his body going slightly numb to cope with the pain. Once his head stops spinning, he forces his eyes open and finds…

Not Taehyung.

Standing over him is a tall man with dark hair slicked back from his face, piercing eyes staring down at Jimin, lids slightly hooded as though he’s unamused by Jimin’s attempt to banish him. No one could banish him if they tried, truth be told, so Jimin can’t blame him for the judgment written across his face.

Because Kim Namjoon is no ordinary man. After all, an ordinary man wouldn’t be able to appear in the middle of a locked hut, unannounced, or make Jimin feel as though his arm was being used as tinder.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin asks as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, pushing himself halfway upright in his bed. The first signs of morning peek through his window, splotches of sunlight dappling the floor as it slowly crawls over distant mountains. Facing an archfiend at the crack of dawn is not what Jimin expected today.

Then again, he was almost drowned by a swamp monster last night, so is this really so implausible?

“Letter from Seokjin,” Namjoon says as he lifts a rather thick envelope, then tosses it onto Jimin’s nightstand, the wide sleeves of his deep red robes swishing about as he does.

“You’re delivering letters now?” Jimin smacks his lips together and glances around, then up to where he and Taehyung have begun replacing the basic structures of the hut, installing new rafters to keep the roof in place. Around one of the logs winds a snake, slowly unfurling itself until it drops onto the bed beside Jimin.

“Doing him a favor,” Namjoon says as he steps back and lets Jimin swing his legs off the bed. The archfiend looks around the floor and carefully picks his way across it, stepping over the piles of books scattered about. “He didn’t want to wait for it to be delivered after he heard about you abandoning everything to go live in a swamp. Why are you here?”

Jimin grumbles to himself as he stands up and shuffles across the room to the kitchen area. It’s littered with dishes from their hasty dinner last night, ingredients for both food and spells mixed together in a disorganized mess. He and Taehyung had spent most of the night studying, hence his desperate need to find a potion that can give him the energy he doesn’t have.

“Oh, hi, Taehyung,” Namjoon says as the floor creaks under the shifting weight of Taehyung turning from a snake into his human form. “How did he convince you to come here?”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, and Jimin can imagine him shrugging even though he doesn’t turn around to see, still on a quest to find his potions. “I kind of swore myself to him, so I’m stuck here.”

“I thought you agreed to a deal with him so you didn’t have to live in swamps anymore.”

“At least I have a witch to cast spells for me now. You win some, you lose some.”

Jimin blinks against the morning sun, picking up two small bottles and lifting them to the window to look through the liquids inside. He turns to Taehyung and finds him already back on the floor like he was last night, flipping through books.

“Is this the right one?” Jimin asks, lifting one of the jars of clear liquid and sloshing it around, and then he lifts the other. “Or this one? One of them is poison.”

Taehyung sits with his legs splayed in a wide V shape, his book laying open on the floor in front of him. He pauses, finger hovering over his spot on the page as he glances between the bottles, tongue flicking out before he points to the one in Jimin’s left hand.

Jimin glances at the bottle, eyes narrowed, and then he shrugs a shoulder and sets the other bottle back down. “Well, you know how to make the antidote if I need it. Bottoms up.”

As the other two men stare at him, Jimin tips his head back and lets the potion rush down his throat. There’s a slight burn, then a tingle, and then a pleasant buzz through his body. He waits a moment before Taehyung gives him a thumbs up and a questioning look, and Jimin nods. Not poison.

“Terrible decision-making, but I respect your nerve,” Namjoon says. “Anyway, I don’t have a lot of time to spend here, and I’ve done what I promised to do, so…” He places his hands on his hips and stares down at the books again, curiosity getting the best of him. “What are you two studying so diligently?”

“Swamp creatures,” Jimin and Taehyung say in unison. Taehyung gives the archfiend a comical smile before Jimin continues talking on his own. “We asked Yoongi to bring us some books so we could figure out what attacked me last night.”

Namjoon actually starts at that a bit, blinking in shock as he turns his full attention on Jimin. “Attacked you?”

“Something grabbed me,” Jimin explains as he picks up a mangrove apple—one of the few he has left since he threw the others at that creature last night—and bites into it. Seeds crunch beneath his teeth, a slight sour taste bursting through his mouth and rushing down his tongue. “No idea what it was, but it was big and I could see it watching me.”

Jimin swears it felt like a human hand around his ankle, but slimy and wet and webbed. It was webbed. He can’t find anything like that in books about swamp creatures. Nothing quite matches. Water nymphs are the closest, but Jimin has dealt with them more than a few times in his life. This doesn’t feel like nymph behavior.

Namjoon almost seems intrigued by their investigation, but then he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, well, good luck with that. Hope you don’t get eaten alive by whatever it is.”

He heads for the door, stepping over Taehyung before he pauses and turns back around. Namjoon’s nose wrinkles at the sight of the bed and the straw that sticks out of ragged sheets, as well as the stain at the foot of the bed that looks suspiciously like blood. He sighs, eyes fluttering in disbelief, and then snaps his fingers.

The bed shudders violently as its crooked legs snap into place, straightening out and making the bed stand nearly a whole foot taller. The sheet and blankets and straw all burst into flame, though the fire never seems to touch anything around them, contained within an invisible box as it burns orange-red. As the flames die down and fade into smoke before suddenly blinking out, it leaves behind a brand-new mattress and blankets, a fluffy pillow leaning at the wall at its head.

With a satisfied smile, Namjoon looks at Jimin and arches a brow. “You’re welcome,” he says, but he doesn’t give Jimin a chance to respond before he adds, “even though I did that for myself more than I did it for you. I can’t visit a place like this again while it’s in this condition.”

Jimin nods in acceptance. It has been pretty disgusting here, he can’t deny. They’ve done their best despite their circumstances, though.

“Well, thank you anyway,” Jimin says.

“I’m in a good mood.” Namjoon makes his way down the front steps, the rotted wood of each seeming to regress in age as he touches them. They creak and bow, then flatten out into new steps, sturdy and secure.

He must be in a really good mood to do all of this. Most of the time when Jimin sees Namjoon, it’s solely because he’s allowed himself to be summoned by Seokjin, the only witch he ever makes time for. Jimin has spent years trying to get into Namjoon’s good graces, but he’s never quite reached that level with him.

Someday, though. Because a deal with an archfiend is exactly what Jimin needs for his goals.

“How is Seokjin, by the way?” Jimin asks as he follows Namjoon outside, hopping confidently onto the top step and smiling when it doesn’t give way beneath him.

“Resting. We had a long night last night. I wore him out.” Namjoon twists this way and that, popping his back. “That’s why I’m in a good mood.”

“Oh.”

“I would have brought him with me, but I’m not sure he can walk right now.” Namjoon chuckles at himself, then turns around to give Taehyung a little wave through the door before turning his gaze back on Jimin again. “You should really clean up that kitchen and… everything else.”

Jimin nods, bare toes wiggling against the wooden steps as he breathes in the morning air. He closes his eyes against the rising sun, face scrunched up toward the east. When he opens his eyes again, Namjoon is gone, leaving Jimin alone in the clearing with nothing but the sound of frogs and insects as they all wake for the day.

Raindrops cling to the mats of grass covering the open space, the sky finally clear after it spent most of the night weeping on them. He’s glad Taehyung got their makeshift rain collector ready in time. Maybe today he should travel north for a little harvesting. He needs to make up for losing everything he got yesterday.

His eyes drift across the clearing and over to the mangroves, right back to the space between them where he can work his way into the canopy and down to the water. Something compels him to look, his eyes fixating on a little brown speck in the distance.

Jimin hops off the steps and pads his way over to the trees. His body tries to resist moving even as he forces himself forward. Whatever grabbed him last night, it seems to stick to deeper waters. If he keeps his distance, he should be fine.

Hopefully.

With a glance back at the hut, Jimin hurries forward and slips between the trees, gripping a root tightly as he leans in to see what’s there. His heart stops.

Right in the pathway near a channel of water sits his basket, most of what he harvested yesterday placed neatly inside of it, as if he had never thrown it in the first place. His mouth hangs open in sheer, dumbfounded shock as he squats down beside it. A little piece of him wonders if this is a trap, but when he scans the swamp, he doesn’t feel watched or hunted.

He doesn’t know what to think as he picks up the basket and stands back up, staring down at the pile of mangrove apples. Was it that thing that grabbed him that brought this back? Someone else?

Jimin’s eyes dart up to look deeper into the swamp, right toward the same spot where he had been attacked last night.

He should go back and get Taehyung. He shouldn’t go alone.

But then he hears the slightest hum from within the swamp, deep within where the mangrove canopy blocks the sun, casting him into darkness. He hears the hum, the song, and that tether seizes his heart again.

And it pulls.

 

Gnarled roots snake across the ground as Jimin walks, their surfaces slick with moisture and causing him to slip as he goes. Water drips from the canopy above, soaked from the overnight rain, the sky peeking through just enough to cast a mosaic of sunlight and shadow across Jimin’s path. The ground seems to suck him in with every step, forcing him to lift his feet high each time to free them.

Logically, he knows he should turn back, but he can’t seem to care about logic right now. That tether, that compulsion, forces him onwards, deeper and deeper once again.

The swamp has gone silent, holding its breath, like the trees themselves are trying to hide from whatever this song is. Jimin is the only thing here that’s foolish enough to walk right toward it, right back to the edge of the pond where he was grabbed. He can see where he scrambled to safety last night, the mud gouged out where he had fallen.

This time, he sets his basket down before he squats at the edge of the water. The song stops as soon as he does. There’s a splash from somewhere to Jimin’s right and all of his instincts rush back into his body, his mind waking up from whatever trance that song had put him in. Jimin blinks, gasps, and is just about to turn and run when something breaks the surface of the water.

Several feet out in stagnant depths, two big eyes stare back at him, a head of wet, dark hair poking out of the water. Even in the low light of the swamp, Jimin can see that whatever stares at him looks almost human but with a hint of green in its skin, and large, pointy, webbed ears.

The water splits in tiny waves as it moves closer, and Jimin scoots back, out of reach of the water’s edge. Whatever this thing is, it didn’t leave the water to pursue him last time, so maybe he’ll be fine if he stays out of reach.

“Hi,” Jimin coos as softly as he can. He doesn’t know why he’s talking to it or if it can even understand him, but that tether ties him in place, rooting him as deeply as the mangroves around him. He can’t move until he has his answers. He needs them. It’s not even the song that keeps him here anymore.

The creature rises further out of the water, dark hair plastered to the side of its face. A very human-looking face aside from the scales speckled across its cheeks and the gills along its neck, which slowly begin to disappear as it rises higher and higher, closer and closer to Jimin.

Oh. Oh, no.

Jimin shoots upright and turns to run, his heel catching on a root and dragging him right back down to the ground. He hits it hard, catching himself on his hands and sending waves of pain up his arms, rattling through his bones. He hears the water sloshing as he twists around to look and, just as he suspected, that thing begins to shift as it lifts itself from the water.

Jimin catches a glimpse of a large fish tail before it splits and reforms into two human legs, scales vanishing and the webs between his fingers pulling away like dough being stretched too thin. Same with his ears. They just turn to regular, round human ears.

And its now very human body seems right at home on dry land.

Jimin screams as he tries to pull himself away, hands slipping over slimy roots. The creature crawls right out of the water, naked from head to toe, a row of pointy teeth glinting as it grins at Jimin. It moves so fast that Jimin doesn’t have time to run. It’s on him in seconds, moving just as quickly as Jimin can drag himself away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jimin pleads in a last-ditch effort, fingers digging into mud as he scrambles backward, his heart racing as the reality sets in that he’s probably about to be eaten. This creature’s teeth are sharper than knives as he grins at Jimin, his body rippling with muscle, droplets of water curling along his chest and stomach as he crawls over Jimin. Whatever Jimin does at this point, all this thing has to do is sink his teeth in or lunge forward and Jimin is doomed.

“Pretty,” the creature hisses, long, pointed tongue darting across his lips, dark eyes studying Jimin as they both continue moving along the ground together, “human.” He’s almost completely on top of Jimin now, arms on either side of Jimin as he cocoons him, trapping him under his powerful body until Jimin’s back hits a tangle of mangrove roots and he can’t move any further away. “Came back.”

Jimin’s chest heaves with panicked breaths, heels digging into soft ground as he tries to push himself back. He almost wishes the roots would open up and swallow him whole. It would be better than whatever this creature has in store for him. The fear grips him so tightly that he struggles to speak, his mind only just now catching up with the fact that this thing just talked to him.

“Back?” Jimin gasps out, hands inching slowly across the ground to search for anything he can use to defend himself. There’s a knife on his belt, but it’s in plain view. If he reaches for it, this thing will notice. “From the other night? Yes, yes, I was here. I saw you, I think. You grabbed me?”

If he can just keep talking, maybe he won’t die. This creature—this man?—seems intrigued by him for now. Maybe he just likes to play with his food before he eats it. At least he’s not pouncing yet. So maybe Jimin can talk his way out if this thing understands him.

“I— I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not here to hurt you,” Jimin says, raising one hand in surrender as the other grips the roots behind himself, squirming against them as his body instinctively tries to escape, even when he knows he can’t. “I don’t want to hurt you, so please don’t hurt me.”

The creature doesn’t even seem to hear Jimin at first, his eyes trailing over Jimin’s body, hands curling into the spongy ground around them, kneading it like a cat. And then his gaze snaps up to meet Jimin’s, his eyes surprisingly round as he takes in every inch of Jimin’s face. His brows pull together, head tilted to one side.

“Hurt?” he asks, glancing down again, eyes frantically flitting across Jimin’s body now. He snatches Jimin’s wrist and pulls it close, turning his hand over as if looking for something. It takes every bit of Jimin’s willpower not to scream, his heart in his throat, pounding so hard it makes him feel like he might throw up. “Where?”

Where?

Jimin looks down at his hand, then back up at the creature, then down again before he realizes what he’s being asked.

“Oh, no, I’m not hurt,” he says. His eyes begin to sting from how long he’s kept them open, too afraid to blink in case he gets pounced. But then the man begins to stroke Jimin’s forearm with his fingers, up and down, staring right back in Jimin’s eyes. Jimin raises his other hand to his chest, feeling the panicked thump of his heart slowly return to normal. “Not hurt. I’m okay.”

The creature stares a moment longer, then nods like he understands. “Okay.”

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay,” Jimin says. He suppresses a shiver as the creature keeps stroking his arm. Up and down, up and down. “What are— Who are you? I don’t even know if you know what I’m saying, but I’m…” He presses a finger to his chest as he begins to relax into the embrace of the mangrove behind him, no longer fearful of the man bearing over him. “Jimin.”

The man’s eyes drift down to Jimin’s finger, still perched over him, pinning him in place. Water drips from the creature and onto Jimin’s clothes, his bare body glistening and wet, the tones of his skin seeming to shift with every movement the way a polished pearl would under sunlight. He looks human, and yet so not human at the same time, his mere appearance playing tricks on Jimin’s eyes.

Oh, but his face. His face rivals that of every handsome human man Jimin has ever seen. He rivals the beauty of demons Jimin has made deals with, who pride themselves on being irresistible. Jimin would never tell them that, but this man looks like he was pulled straight from the pages of a folktale, warning humans against being lured by the promise of perfection.

“Jungkook.”

Jimin’s eyes stop their trail down the man’s body, back up to meet his gaze. His breath catches in his throat, their faces only inches away. He swears he can taste a strange, sweet saltiness on the air between their lips.

“Jungkook,” Jimin repeats, and Jungkook nods excitedly, mouth stretching into another wide grin. Those sharp teeth suddenly seem less intimidating when accompanied by such wide doe eyes. “Friendly?”

Jungkook cocks his head at him, the ground squelching beneath his hands as he squeezes it again. He rocks forward slightly, then away like he’s trying to hold himself back from something. The fear isn’t entirely gone, Jimin letting out a nervous “oh!” when Jungkook moves too close.

“Um, okay, you don’t know what that means, then,” Jimin says, a tremor in his voice. His eyes drift down again, and he forces them up once more before he sees something he shouldn’t. He tries to keep his focus on Jungkook’s eyes, staring right back into their jet-black depths. “Good?”

That makes Jungkook perk up. He nods again, then points at himself with one muddy hand. “Good,” he confirms.

“Good,” Jimin repeats, a weak smile slowly crawling onto his face. So he’s not about to be eaten. Thank the gods. “Me too. Friendly.”

“Friendly. Friendly. Friendly.” Jungkook chants the word like he’s trying it out on his tongue, face scrunched in concentration before he nods, approving of his own ability to catch on so quickly. “Good. Friendly. Me.”

Jimin’s smile grows. “You.”

And Jungkook smiles too, even bigger than before. His hands come up like he’s about to cup Jimin’s face, but then his head whips around toward the path Jimin had run down. Jungkook scrambles back, frantic, feet splashing back into the water as a shout of Jimin’s name rings out.

“No, no, no, no, wait!” Jimin calls out, scrambling forward as he reaches out to Jungkook, fingers grazing Jungkook’s shoulder before he twists around and dives back under the surface.

Taehyung crashes through the trees, hands covering his face from stinging leaves and low-hanging vines. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Jimin, bent at the hip to catch his breath.

“Oh, finally. I was looking everywhere for you. I thought you’d finally been eaten,” he says as he braces his hands on his knees. He flings his blonde hair out of his eyes as he whips his head up to look at Jimin. “Why were you screaming?”

Jimin stares out at the water, slowly raising a finger to point at where Jungkook’s eyes peek just above the surface. His ears have returned to their sharp, webbed form, big eyes trained on Taehyung warily. Why he’s so cautious with Taehyung when he was so ready to climb right on top of Jimin, Jimin doesn’t know.

“Oh!” Taehyung chirps as he straightens up and points at Jungkook, who sinks a bit deeper, eyes narrowing in a glare at Taehyung. “A siren! That explains the singing.”

Jimin feels his smile returning as Jungkook slowly rises again, curious gaze flitting between Jimin and Taehyung. Jimin gestures at his basket, waving for Taehyung to hand him one of the mangrove apples. Taehyung tosses one, and Jimin catches it, holding it out to Jungkook.

“He’s friendly,” Jimin says as Jungkook slowly drifts closer to him. His head pops fully out of the water, peering at Taehyung from the corner of his eye. He keeps his distance from the familiar, floating closer to Jimin. “Aren’t you?”

Big eyes lock onto Jimin again, sharp teeth gleaming in a wide grin. Jungkook rises up just enough to bite into the apple, tugging it from Jimin’s grip, and then he whips around and dives into the water. Jimin catches a glimpse of a large tail as it splashes, a wave of dirty water crashing over the bank and spraying Jimin and Taehyung.

Jimin laughs as Jungkook’s little pool ripples and then calms again, going still as the man—the siren—disappears. He waits a moment with Taehyung at his shoulder, but it seems Jungkook has had his fun for the day. The water’s surface doesn’t break again, and Jimin finds himself even more curious than he was before.

A siren. In a swamp.

There’s something new every day.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Hoseok delivers on his promise and brings a small delivery of milk and other goods once Jimin and Taehyung have managed to dig themselves a root cellar. Jimin makes up several excuses for how they did it so quickly and where they got the supplies. Hoseok doesn’t need to know that he and Taehyung sneaked their way into the village to snag a bit of what they need.

It was barely anything. It’s not going to hurt anyone.

Jimin had drawn a spell circle on the inside of the trapdoor to keep the space cool enough to store dairy and meat safely, so he had enough shellfish caught and stored in time to trade with Hoseok the last time he came by. He stops by about once a week to see the progress on the hut.

Their home is shaping up to be something actually livable now, almost cozy. Jimin feels proud of their teamwork.

Between entertaining their clueless human guest, fixing up the hut, harvesting goods they need, and practicing spells, Jimin makes regular trips out to Jungkook’s pond. He leaves gifts beside the water each time. Sometimes he sees Jungkook, sometimes he doesn’t, but he still hears him sing every night as soon as Jimin snuffs out his candles.

Like Jungkook is singing him to sleep.

When Jimin has a moment to sit and read, he’s usually reading about sirens now. He hasn’t found a single mention of sirens ever living in swamps. It’s strange, but he can’t really ask Jungkook why he’s here if they can’t communicate properly. Jimin’s best theory is that Jungkook worked his way into the swamp from where it connects to the sea and just decided to hang around.

Gods know why he would do that. Jimin can’t judge him, though, considering he left behind his whole life to live in a swamp too, as people keep reminding him.

By the time the late afternoon rolls around and Taehyung is still out exploring the area between the fresh and saltwater areas of their swamp, Jimin’s curiosity has grown too much for him to ignore. He snaps his book shut and grabs some of the leftover lunch he had cooked for himself and Taehyung, wrapping it in a clean cloth before he heads out.

The gifts are partially an offering to show Jungkook that they can be trusted, and partially as an apology from Jimin for throwing his basket at Jungkook’s head. He still feels bad for that, and Jimin is quick to feel guilty when he actually likes someone.

He didn’t know at the time that Jungkook was just a curious sweetheart.

Now that he does, he feels significantly more comfortable traipsing around the swamp. Sirens are powerful creatures, not to be trifled with, so if Jungkook is in this swamp then he is the apex predator here. And he’s friendly.

If Jungkook likes Jimin and there’s nothing more dangerous than him, then Jimin feels pretty safe now. If something did try to hurt him, Jungkook would likely protect him.

For some reason, he’s very fond of Jimin, has been since before Jimin even knew he existed. He does wonder why Jungkook wanted so badly to lure him out to his little pond and why Jungkook hasn’t just come to the hut himself since he can walk on land. But Jimin doesn’t think he’ll understand until he first learns how to communicate with Jungkook a little better. They won’t get far if they can only trade a few words here and there.

“Jungkook?” Jimin calls out as he walks, ducking beneath vines and shoving aside wide leaves. He’s learned to give Jungkook a little warning so he doesn’t get spooked, and Jungkook will usually answer him with a little bit of his siren song.

This time, Jimin hears a hum that he thinks is Jungkook’s song, but it cuts off abruptly. He steps through the arch of mangrove roots with the leftover lunch in hand, just about to call out for Jungkook again before he sees him.

Jimin stares across the pond where a fallen log stretches over the water, seemingly placed there with purpose to create an easy crossing. But now it simply provides a stage for Jungkook to display himself on.

And Jimin doesn’t think he was invited to the show.

He frantically sets the wrapped food down and looks around for an escape route, so flustered that he forgets he can just turn around and go back the way he came. He feels like a mouse that can’t decide which way to run, simply skittering in panicked circles until he gives up. His gaze drifts to Jungkook, his throat tight and unable to say anything to excuse himself. He knows now what the sounds were.

Certainly not singing.

Jungkook stretches across the log like he’s sunbathing, placed perfectly in a spot where blue sky peeks through the canopy. In the direct sunlight, his skin looks more golden than before, though Jimin swears he can still see that green undertone. He seems to adapt to whatever is around him, shifting and changing so that he’s always one with the nature around him. Jungkook is beautiful, truly.

And not just because he’s naked and dripping wet, sprawled across the log with one leg dangling off. The other bends at the knee, foot resting atop the log, every muscle in his body painted in washes of shadow and sunbeams to accentuate how defined they are. He looks like living marble. One arm folds beneath his head, and the other…

Well, the other rests across the length of his torso, reaching down to wrap a large hand around his cock, which curves high over his stomach, glistening wet as he strokes it and dripping precum onto himself. His hand slides up and down in slow, deliberate movements, thumb trailing along the arch and up to the very tip, then swirling around it.

His head tilts back as he gasps in sharply, hips bucking to fuck into the tight squeeze of his own hand. It feels wrong to watch this, so Jimin takes a hasty step back. His foot slips on a root and he grunts as he catches himself, gripping the mangroves beside him. When he looks up again, Jungkook’s head snaps to the side, eyes locked onto Jimin like he’s just spotted prey.

An apology forms on the tip of Jimin’s tongue and then dies the instant he sees Jungkook’s lips curl into a smile. His teeth glimmer in the sunlight, sharp and as wicked as the smirk on his face. Wet hair clings to the side of his face, strands of black curling like inky tendrils across his skin, one running alongside the gentle slope of his nose.

Jungkook turns his head to the sun again, eyes closed, mouth open in heavy pants and moans, corners still turned up as though pleased that Jimin can’t stop staring at him. He strokes faster, the hand beneath his head weaving into his own hair, his toes curling. The foot he has propped on the log braces to help him push up into his own hand, cords of muscle rippling through him, his body made of raw power.

So powerful, and yet he falls apart so easily under such simple pleasures. It’s mesmerizing.

Jimin’s hands twist around the mangrove roots, wringing them as he stares across the water at Jungkook, unable to move, his breaths coming quicker than they should. His skin grows hot to the touch, dewy from more than just the humidity, and his lip aches between his teeth as he bites it in hopes of silencing the sounds in his throat.

Sweat clings to his hair, building on the back of his neck as he grips tighter and tighter, clinging to the roots to stop himself from slipping his hand between his own legs. His mind dances around the edges of thoughts he feels like he shouldn’t have.

Then again, Jungkook wants him to watch, so he must want Jimin to imagine what it would be like if it was Jimin touching him instead.

He can imagine it. Almost too well, in fact. He can imagine his hands spread across the solid swell of Jungkook’s chest and feeling the rise and fall of each breath he takes. He wants to feel them as they quicken and grow shallow, choked by his moans as he comes closer and closer to the edge. Jimin can imagine straddling Jungkook’s hips and feeling the vigor behind them as they snap up to sink inside him.

Jimin can imagine how thoroughly Jungkook would fill him, stretching him beyond what his human body should take and fucking so deeply that Jimin would feel the ache of it in his back for days. Can imagine the burn in his own thighs as he tries to keep up with the pace of a beast that was built to withstand the crushing pressures of the sea and rival the strength of tidal waves.

The way Jungkook fucks recklessly into his own hand is more than enough for Jimin to know exactly what Jungkook could do to him. Jimin’s mouth waters at the thought, lips parted as he gasps in thick, heady air and digs his nails into the mangroves.

Jungkook’s voice still sounds like music when he moans, back arching off the log as he comes, his cock pushing through the ring his hand forms and shooting ropes of sticky white across his own body. Jimin follows every minute movement, every muscle that pulls taut to help him chase his climax, every bob of Jungkook’s throat as he swallows down his moans, and the droplet of sweat or water that trails down the column of it.

The stroke of Jungkook’s hand slows down, cock twitching as he spills the last bit of cum over the back of his own hand. He takes a moment to catch his breath, slowly sliding his hand up one more time and letting his cock slip from his own grasp. His arm falls to the side, draped over the side of the log, and his head lolls around to look at Jimin again.

His smile hasn’t left his face once since he first noticed Jimin, and it only grows now, though more dazed and blissful than before. Jungkook takes in a few more deep breaths, his cock resting on his bare stomach, his body spent and satisfied as hooded eyes stare at Jimin.

And then he rolls right off the log and twists into a perfect dive, arcing beautifully through the air before he crashes into the water with a splash.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

Jimin stares at the rafters, sprawled across his bed and hands folded politely over his stomach, because everything he did to himself last night after watching Jungkook was anything but polite.

He was so thankful that Taehyung hadn’t returned to the hut yet by the time he burst back through the door. Jimin threw himself right onto the bed, face buried in his pillow, one hand around his cock and the other pressed deep between his legs to sink his fingers inside himself.

Taehyung had immediately smelled Jimin’s arousal on the air when he stepped inside, even though Jimin had finished long before. He promptly turned and left, saying he would spend the night in a tree nearby so Jimin could get whatever he needed out of his system.

Jimin had taken full advantage. He actually wore himself out last night, writhing on his bed until the covers were completely kicked to the floor and his clothes were soaked through with sweat. And the worst part is—or maybe it’s the best part—he could hear Jungkook singing for him through it all.

Doubts had danced through Jimin’s mind all night, wondering if he shouldn’t have stayed and watched. If he had seen too much. The second Jungkook had disappeared back into the water, Jimin ran back home and tried to convince himself that they can pretend this never happened.

It wasn’t until Jungkook started singing for Jimin while he touched himself that he decided to give in to everything he wanted and accept it. There’s no denying what he saw or that Jungkook saw him too.

No denying that Jimin wants to see it again. To feel it next time.

“No, no, stop,” he grumbles to himself as he lifts his feet and then kicks them outward, forcing his body upright on the bed. He can’t let his mind wander again or he’ll spend all day in bed, and poor Taehyung will have to remain banished to the trees.

Jimin forces himself to get dressed and open the front door of the hut, leaning out to call Taehyung back. Technically, Taehyung should be able to sense that he can come back, his bond with Jimin telling him that they’re hopefully past the danger zone of Jimin spiraling into more depraved thoughts. For now.

Taehyung slithers his way back in as Jimin cooks their breakfast, shifting back into his human form before he plops onto the floor.

“What are the plans for today?” Taehyung asks, sprawling out like a starfish on the floor. He wiggles his feet back and forth as he watches Jimin.

“Actually,” Jimin says as he ladles up a bit of his crab stew to taste it. He nods in approval at his own cooking, then gestures for Taehyung to hand him the bowls. “I want to summon Yoongi today.”

“Ooh, yay!” Taehyung cheers as he springs up to grab their bowls and hand them over. He scoots along the floor and makes grabby hands at the air until Jimin hands him a full bowl of stew. “Can’t wait for him to get mad at us again for summoning him so much. What is it for this time?”

Jimin presses his lips into a tight line as he plops onto his butt. He glances over his bowl at Taehyung, lifting it to take a sip of broth. The familiar watches him closely with narrowed eyes, slitted pupils seeming to see right through Jimin as he pretends not to know where this is going.

He’s going to make Jimin say it out loud.

“I’m hoping he’ll know a way I can communicate with Jungkook,” Jimin says before he spoons a large mouthful of stew and then stares down at the rising steam. It burns his mouth, but he keeps chewing, quickly swallowing it down before he looks at Taehyung again.

That stupid forked tongue flicks out as Taehyung grins, and then he lets out a little “Ooh. Someone has a crush—”

“Shut up.” Jimin says, lazily kicking at Taehyung, who kicks right back. “Shut up, I just… want to learn more about him. I’ve never heard of sirens in a swamp before, have you?”

Taehyung shakes his head, slurping at his stew as he stares out the door, netting strung up in it now so they can have better air flow without bugs harassing them. “We already kind of figured he just swam in from the sea, right? Maybe he just likes exploring, found the swamp, decided he kind of liked it here and stayed.”

“Why doesn’t he ever leave, though?” Jimin asks. He clicks his tongue, head shaking, then sets his bowl atop a stack of books. He can’t wait any longer, snatching up his chalk and setting to work on his spell circle. “It seems like he’s always here. If he came from the sea, why doesn’t he go back? And what open water creature like a siren chooses to spend most of his time in a swamp? It doesn’t make sense.”

As Jimin draws, Taehyung scoots back to give him a little room. He wiggles in excitement at the prospect of seeing Yoongi again. It’s not like it’s been a long time since they’ve seen him. They summon him constantly. But Taehyung is obsessed, so he really has no room to laugh at Jimin for his interest in Jungkook.

Taehyung hums around a mouthful of food, mimicking Jimin’s pose as they both kneel on either side of the circle. Jimin extends his hand, and Taehyung places a tiny, glowing vial in his palm—their offering to Yoongi this time.

It’s a fine line that Jimin can’t cross when it comes to working with demons. Most of the offerings he can give are nature-based, but he has to be careful to never take too much from it or hurt it in some way for his own gain. Two nights ago, he and Taehyung had aggressively studied a spell that would allow them to bottle the light of a will o’ the wisp without completely draining it of its energy. He can’t believe it actually worked, and now he just hopes it’s enough to make Yoongi not rip their throats out for constantly annoying him.

Jimin sets the vial in the circle and begins chanting under his breath, hands planted on two of the sigils, Taehyung’s hands on the others as he leans over them like he’s ready to pounce, eyes wild with excitement, tongue running along his lips.

The air in the hut constricts, pressing in on every side of them until Jimin’s head feels like it might explode. His fingers twitch against the wooden floor, a chill rushing down his spine. Even in the damp, humid swamp, Jimin feels cold. A good sign that Yoongi is accepting their call.

A human’s natural instinct when a demon is nearby is to feel terrified and want to run. It took some practice before Jimin could ignore that feeling and stay still whenever Yoongi appeared to them.

The pressure in the air eases suddenly, leaving Jimin disoriented. He blinks once, and the second his eyes open, a pair of feet stand in front of him, dark robes hanging low around them. He can hear Taehyung clapping and letting out a little cheer. There’s a sigh, and Jimin looks up to see Yoongi blinking rapidly at him.

“This had better be good.”

“I’m always good for you,” Taehyung says, sprawled across the floor again, legs spread wide as he grins up Yoongi. His tongue slips out, flicking through the air briefly before it traces his lips and then curls in Yoongi’s direction. “Welcome back, gorgeous.”

Yoongi forces a tired smile onto his face as he glances at Taehyung, and then leans down to scoop up the glowing vial. He holds it above himself, turning it to observe the light, and then with a twirl of his hand, it vanishes into thin air.

“Okay, what do you want this time?” he asks as he stares down at Jimin. His black hair sits atop his head in a bun, some of it loose and spilling down his neck. He glances around at the piles of books he had brought them before, lingering on each page. By now, he knows them well enough to know that whatever he’s here for, it’s some kind of fixation for them and there will be clues. “I’m not fighting sea monsters after you made me act as your interior designer for a month straight. Goodbye—”

“No, no, wait!” Jimin rises up on his knees, hands up, palms toward Yoongi. “No fighting. I was just hoping you might know a spell for something. A way to communicate with a siren.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Jimin is trying to get pounded into the mud by a pretty siren that’s here in the swamp,” Taehyung says as he shifts around to kneel again, hands gripping his thighs as he peers up at Yoongi through his lashes. “If you help him with that, then maybe you and I can find some time to—”

“Tae, can you control yourself for even two seconds when we summon him?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung scoffs at him.

“You literally summoned him so you can learn to communicate with a siren and consent to getting his dick in you,” Taehyung says, then points at himself, “and I am the one who needs to control myself?”

Yoongi rubs at his brow with his thumb and forefinger, shaking his head. He looks at Jimin from the corner of his eye. “Is that really why I’m here?”

“I’m trying,” Jimin says with a pointed look at his familiar, who shimmies his shoulders playfully at Jimin, “to talk to him so that I can understand why he’s here. Have you ever heard of sirens living in swamps?”

That seems to give Yoongi pause, and then he shrugs. “No,” he says, taking a moment to consider it. He glances out the front door, popping his lips together a few times as Jimin waits with his breath hanging in his throat. “If you can communicate enough to get him to give you one of his scales, then I have a potion for you.”

Jimin leaps to his feet, hands clasped together as he shuffles forward to stand in front of Yoongi. “Really? That’s all it will take? A scale? I could get him to give me that.”

“Or,” Taehyung says as he pops up too, leaning forward to fold both hands over Yoongi’s shoulder, chin resting atop them, “you can give us the spell and you come with us to communicate with the pretty siren. In return, I’ll do anything you want me to. Anything you ask of me.”

Yoongi regards him for a moment, and Jimin rolls his eyes before he turns to throw himself on his bed. He lets out a dramatic groan, then slams his head against the mattress over and over as he listens to them converse.

“I don’t think that’s really much of a sacrifice for you,” Yoongi says.

“No, but even Namjoon gives Seokjin things just for sleeping with him.”

“Well, I’m not Namjoon.”

“No, but you love me even if you won’t admit it—”

“Can we please go talk to Jungkook?” Jimin asks as he twists around and risks a peek at them. Despite how Yoongi acts, he is just as infatuated with Taehyung as Taehyung is with him, and he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair as he looks over his shoulder at Jimin.

“Lead the way.”

 

Slipping into the darkness of the mangroves now is almost exciting to Jimin. Without the fear of what he’s about to find or the strange allure of a siren song he doesn’t recognize, it’s just another peaceful walk through the swamp. Now, he just knows he’s going to find Jungkook, and he doesn’t mind that so much.

He just hopes he doesn’t walk into another scene like he did yesterday. It was one thing when it was just him and Jungkook facing each other while Jungkook pleased himself in front of Jimin. But with the others here?

Well.

“Jungkook,” Jimin calls out softly, ducking beneath the overgrowth. He tiptoes over the slippery roots and dodges the softest patches of mud so he doesn’t sink in, and then he steps out to the edge of Jungkook’s pond. “Jungkook, I brought friends to see you! I didn’t bring food this time, sorry. I didn’t think about it.”

He squats down and dips his hand into the water, splashing it around a bit, and then he waits. If Jungkook doesn’t come to his call, a quick splash usually gets him here quickly. Jimin glances up at Yoongi, hand still submerged as he smiles at the demon.

“Just give him a second. I think he explores the swamp a lot, so it might take a second for him to get here—”

But then something solid wraps around Jimin’s wrist and tugs. His heart leaps as he whips around to look, the water in front of him breaking as Jungkook bursts from the pond. It courses down his face in rivulets, curling around the corners of his smile, mouth open in a wide smile.

“Hello,” he says as he tugs on Jimin’s arm with both hands like he might yank him right into the water. He swims closer, rising up high enough that their noses almost touch, and he looks delighted. His round eyes study Jimin’s face, throat bobbing as he gulps down his excitement, before he finally seems to notice Yoongi’s presence.

And that’s when the fear sets in.

Jimin feels Jungkook begin to pull away, but he quickly snatches Jungkook’s hand and holds tight. “No, no, wait! Jungkook, he’s a friend!” he says, waving his other hand in Yoongi’s direction. “Friendly. Good. I promise. He’s here to help us.”

“Help?” Jungkook repeats, gaze slowly sliding back over to Jimin. He clasps Jimin’s hand tighter as he sinks back into the water. Not all the way, but enough that just his head pokes out, Jimin’s knuckles pressed to his lips so Jimin can feel his breath warming his wet skin.

“Yes,” Jimin says with a smile as Jungkook tugs him closer once again. Jimin slips and catches himself on a stray root, bent into a deep, awkward bow as he tries to stay on the bank of the pond but still be close enough to the water for Jungkook’s sake. “He can speak to you.” Jimin points at his own mouth. “Speak.”

Jungkook ducks his head, a bit shifty as he darts back and forth in the water, and then he nods once. “Speak.” He looks up at Yoongi, still holding Jimin’s hand like a safety line. When his mouth opens next, the sounds that leave him make Jimin let out a small “oh!” of surprise.

He doesn’t know what he expected—maybe something more like Jungkook’s song, maybe something akin to the sound of a seashell when a person holds it up to their ear. Instead, he speaks in dissonant chords. Multiple, short tones emanate from him at once. It all seems to come from his throat, like a guttural hum and a strange keening at the same time, and each feels like it cuts off too soon. It’s as though someone has slammed their hands onto the keys of a piano and then silenced it immediately after, over and over.

It disorients Jimin almost like his siren song does, but not in the same beautiful, harmonic way. It’s almost grating to listen to, and Jimin feels like he can’t even quite comprehend it, like he’s not really hearing and making sense of it. It’s all just noise to him.

His mind instinctively tries to shut it out and ignore it, as though it knows this is the sound of a creature that could kill him if Jungkook wanted to. This is the true sound of a siren. This is why they sing instead. This sends chills up Jimin’s spine even when he knows he has nothing to fear.

Sometimes Jungkook’s sounds trail off into a slight hissing, but that seems to be when he’s displeased with something. Jimin can see his tongue curl as he speaks, sees it flick forward in one last guttural, atonal groan before Yoongi begins speaking in the same language.

Jimin glances back and forth between them as they talk, Jungkook’s face growing more and more concerned as it goes. And then suddenly he lets out a rapid series of discordant notes that are almost like the sound of knuckles rapping on wood, but muffled as though hearing it through water. He yanks away from Jimin’s grip, water splashing around him as he tries to pull away, though Jimin holds on as tightly as he can.

“Jungkook, hey, what— Why are you—” Jimin looks up at Yoongi. “What did you say?”

“I just told him we would need one of his scales,” Yoongi says. He takes a quick step back when Jungkook suddenly lunges forward with a shriek, teeth bared at Yoongi and spiny, fin-like structures shooting up along the length of his spine.

“Jungkook!” Jimin struggles to keep his grip on the siren as he thrashes, nearly pulling Jimin into the water before Jimin finally lets go. He catches himself on the bank, slipping on the mud, hands sinking back into the pond as Jungkook darts away from him.

The siren’s eyes flit between Jimin and Yoongi and Taehyung, then back to Jimin before he shakes his head. “No. No,” is all he says before he twists around and throws himself back into the murky water, disappearing in the blink of an eye. His tail flicks up above the surface for a split second, then crashes down and splashes water up over the bank.

Jimin closes his eyes and covers his face, plant matter sticking to his skin, the steady drip of water trickling off his hand and back into the pond. His heart sinks like a stone, weighed down by a dreaded feeling that he may have just broken Jungkook’s trust in him, though he doesn’t understand why.

What scared him so suddenly? Why wouldn’t he let them try to explain? Why wouldn’t he even give Jimin time to? The fear in his eyes struck a chord in Jimin, made him ache to pull Jungkook closer and comfort him, to promise him that he doesn’t want to hurt him.

He didn’t even get a chance.

“So,” Taehyung says as they all stare out at the water, the ripples fading as they wait. He looks over at Jimin once it becomes clear that Jungkook isn’t going to return. “Is it safe for me to sleep inside tonight? I feel like you’re not really going to be in the same mood you were last night.”

“Yes. You can sleep inside tonight,” Jimin says as he slowly pulls his hands out of the water, his tone flat, face blank. He wishes he knew how to describe what he feels, but he doesn’t think there’s a word for it. Not quite hopeless, not quite guilty, not quite sad.

He just feels. For Jungkook.

“Thank the gods.” Taehyung tilts his head to the branches overhead and sighs in relief. “There’s only room for one snake in that hut, and you were whipping yours all over the place last night.” He raises his hands when Jimin and Yoongi simultaneously turn to stare at him. “Okay, sorry. Trying to lighten the mood. I’m sure he’ll be back eventually.”

Jimin looks out at the pond again, pressing one hand into the mud as he leans forward and dips the other under the water. He hopes Taehyung is right. He hopes Jungkook comes back, that his trust in Jimin isn’t completely gone.

He rinses the mud from his hands before he stands up and wipes them dry on his clothes, then nods to the others. Jimin gestures for them to lead the way back, Taehyung gnawing at his lip as he goes, glancing at Jimin with concern. The familiar wrings his scaly hands together before he scurries to catch up with Yoongi, toying with his robes and trying to sneak his fingers beneath them.

Jimin reluctantly follows them, his steps slow, every part of him wishing to stay and wait for Jungkook to come back. He doesn’t want to leave Jungkook scared like this.

He waits under the arch of mangroves, scanning the water one last time. Maybe he imagines it, but he swears he can feel eyes on him. And then a tug on his heart. That tether. He can’t walk away like this.

Jimin hurries back to the water’s edge, his heart pounding as he rolls up his knee-length shorts and takes careful steps down the slippery slope to the pond’s edge. He holds tightly onto any root he can find so he doesn’t slide straight into the depths. This could be stupid, but he just needs Jungkook to know that they aren’t here to hurt him.

If Jimin steps into Jungkook’s territory, where he has all the power and Jimin can do nothing to stop him from attacking, then maybe he won’t feel so threatened. It’s just Jimin, Jungkook, and the water.

And they both know who rules the water.

He sinks in up to his knees, his bare feet slipping on the silt below, almost silky soft beneath him. Weeds tangle around his ankles, the water pleasantly warm so he’s at least comfortable as he waits.

Jimin’s jaw trembles in fear even though he doesn’t feel scared. His survival instinct tells him he shouldn’t do this, fight or flight kicking in even as he ignores it. Jimin knows Jungkook won’t hurt him, but that doesn’t stop his body from knowing he’s only human and he can be ripped apart so easily.

Jimin waits with his eyes closed, sinking a little deeper. He takes a step forward, still gripping a root with one hand, just in case. There is no sound around him—not a splash, not the whir of a bug buzzing by, and not a song.

“Jungkook?” he calls out, hand over his heart and his voice as soft as he can make it. Anything to bring the siren back to him, to make him feel safe again.

But still nothing.

Jimin takes another step and lets go of the root, the water all the way up to his waist now. He doesn’t care that it soaks his clothes, and he ignores the tickle of things against his bare legs. Just plants, he tells himself. Plants disturbed by his presence and swaying as he moves them.

Until something strong grabs both of his ankles and Jimin has to bite down a scream. His eyes snap open, staring down into the water, too muddy for him to see anything. He just trusts that it’s Jungkook touching him, and nothing else. He has to.

Too fucking late to save himself now if it isn’t.

He feels webbed hands slide up his legs, the slick pads of Jungkook’s fingers trailing along his calves. Jimin’s breath hitches, hands hovering above the water. Something presses against his thigh, just above his knee.

Lips. A pair of lips kiss the front of his thigh, then again along the inside, Jungkook’s head pressed between his legs. He can feel Jungkook turn, and then the touch of those lips again, this time on the inside of his other thigh. Both of Jungkook’s hands come to rest on Jimin’s left leg now, one gripping his calf and the other sliding along the back of his thigh. Jungkook pushes Jimin’s legs apart, the tips of his fingers teasing beneath his shorts, pushing them further up. His lips follow in their path.

Jimin’s hands dip beneath the water, mouth dropping open in quick breaths. His nerves are all alight, vibrating like a thousand harp strings all being strummed at once until he’s trembling under Jungkook’s touch. He can feel Jungkook’s hair beneath his fingers, just about to tangle into wet locks before hands suddenly tighten around both of his legs again.

Jimin gasps as he’s lifted from the water, a large splash sending waves across the pond as he’s suddenly thrown right onto solid ground. He falls back with a huff, legs dangling over the slight slope, toes grazing the surface of the water. As he catches his breath, Jimin pushes himself up to search for Jungkook, half expecting him to pop back up with that big smile again.

Instead, the water breaks around a single hand, webbed fingers curled partially into a fist, but his thumb and forefinger pinching something between them.

Jimin leans forward and reaches out, carefully plucking the object from Jungkook’s hand. He holds it up and stares, slack-jawed and still a little bewildered, his mind struggling to move past the head and hand that had just been between his legs. He blinks a few times before it all makes sense.

Between his fingers, glinting each time Jimin turns it in the sunlight, is a silvery-green scale. Just one, but it shifts in that same strange, pearlescent way that Jungkook’s skin does, and it brings a smile back to Jimin’s face in an instant. He looks down just as Jungkook’s hand retreats beneath the water again, and this time Jimin knows he’s gone for real.

But at least it’s on better terms than before. Much, much better.

 

˗ˏˋ☾´ˎ˗

 

The ink has barely dried on the new page of Jimin’s grimoire by the time he starts on the potion. He’s too excited to finally talk with Jungkook, to be able to communicate in a way that allows them to really understand each other. He has no idea what to expect or what it will sound like.

Will he still hear Jungkook’s language the way he heard it yesterday? Or will he hear it as though Jungkook is speaking Korean? Or will Jimin’s mind struggle to comprehend what’s happening and he’ll simply feel what Jungkook means?

Jimin sucks air through his teeth as Taehyung pricks his finger, turning Jimin’s hand over the cauldron and squeezing a few droplets of blood out. Just like Jungkook, Jimin has to give a part of himself to this spell. Hair isn’t powerful enough and he’s not about to lop off his pinky finger, so blood it is. That was Yoongi’s suggestion too, so Jimin has faith that it will work.

Yoongi has never led them astray before.

As Taehyung bandages Jimin’s fingers, Jimin leans over to grab Jungkook’s scale from where it waits in the sunlight, gleaming just as beautifully as Jungkook. His tongue darts nervously across his lips as he holds the scale over the cauldron, a quiet beat passing as he prays that this works.

After the strength it took for Jungkook to trust him with this, Jimin needs it to work.

He drops the scale in and watches as the potion sputters and spits, boiling and bubbling and hissing at them. Jimin quickly begins to stir it, wiping sweat from his brow, the heat of the fire and the swamp’s humidity making him crave a dip in the water with Jungkook again.

“Do you have to drink that?” Taehyung asks, once again starfishing across the floor, his shirt damp with sweat. He wiggles his feet around as he watches Jimin work. “With your blood and his scale in it? That’s kind of gross.”

“We’ve had grosser,” Jimin says with a shrug.

“True.”

“Besides, it’s boiled. Think about what we eat every day. We both fish. That’s just dead flesh too.”

Taehyung wrinkles his nose at the rafters. “Also true.”

Jimin leans over the potion and closes his eyes, breathing in the scent. Yoongi said it would begin to change when it’s ready, and that Jimin would know. He doesn’t know what that means until the scent hits him so hard he can taste it on his tongue—salty sweet. He remembers tasting that on the air when Jungkook was close to him.

“Help me,” Jimin says, and Taehyung springs to action to help him remove the cauldron from the heat, setting it on the hearth before gathering up a few vials. The recipe doesn’t make much, but they’ll get a few uses out of it. Jimin also doesn’t know how long the effects last. If this works, and he and Jungkook keep spending time together, he’ll have to make more.

Which means more scales.

Which means more trust.

Jimin is going to have to work hard to make Jungkook trust him. He doesn’t know why taking a single scale scared Jungkook so much, but maybe it’s just in a siren’s nature. He supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

He and Taehyung filter and ladle the potion into several different vials, sealing them with corks. Jimin crosses his legs and cups two of the vials in his hands, staring down at the liquid inside. At least he has a good feeling that it will work. Just like Jungkook, the potion has that pearly appearance to it, his very essence a part of it.

Jimin hops to his feet, clutching the vials in his hand as Taehyung raises a brow at him. “You’re going now?”

“Yes, I don’t want to waste any more time,” Jimin says. “You saw the way he reacted when Yoongi asked him for his scales. He was scared. I want him to understand that none of us want to hurt him. So I’m going to talk to him today because I don’t know if he’ll—”

What if he decides he can’t risk coming back again? That he can’t trust Jimin? What if he goes back to wherever he came from in the sea? Jimin would likely never see him again.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Taehyung asks as he gathers up the spare vials, clutching them to his chest like they’re treasure.

“No. I think I should talk to him alone this time.” Jimin rattles the two vials together in his hand, staring down at the swirling liquid inside before he looks through the window that gives him a view of the path to Jungkook’s pond. He hasn’t heard singing all day, and he just hopes he’s not already too late.

“Okay,” Taehyung says as he scoots along the floor to tuck their new potions beneath a loose floorboard under Jimin’s bed. It’s the best place to store it where no human visitor might accidentally stumble across them. “Be careful. If I hear you screaming, should I come running or should I assume you two need privacy?”

Jimin blinks at Taehyung, lips twisted into a deep frown. But Taehyung just giggles when Jimin doesn’t have much of a retort. He did stand and watch Jungkook get himself off, let Jungkook slip between his legs and kiss his bare thighs, and he has dedicated days and days to studying sirens and trying to find a way to communicate with Jungkook.

There’s no denying Jimin’s intrigue.

“I’ll be fine,” Jimin says, and Taehyung cackles again.

“I bet you will be.”

That’s the last thing Jimin hears before he hops down the front steps, bare feet hitting the wet ground, once again soaked from overnight rains. Jimin wiggles his toes in the grass before he hurries for the mangroves. He had the forethought to wear shorter shorts today—the shortest pair he could find—just in case he needs to get into the water again. Might be a bit more convenient.

No other reason.

Jimin ducks into the darkness of the swamp, enjoying the few sunbeams that trickle through on his way. He wonders if Jungkook chose this particular pond because it provides such a large gap in the trees. He gets a bit of sunlight without leaving the swamp. And he has that log to lounge on.

Jimin has tried his best not to think about that day since it happened. Every time he does, he gets this itch he can’t quite scratch, his whole body feeling restless and fidgety. He knows why, he just doesn’t like it.

As he breaks through the trees, Jimin lets out a low whistle, a quick tune to catch Jungkook’s attention on his way to the edge of the water. Jimin eases himself down into the mud, sitting his butt right in it and not worrying about getting filthy anymore. All he wants right now is for Jungkook to feel his presence and come to him again. Jimin would dive into a pool of piranhas right now if that’s what it took to get his answers.

His feet dip into the water, splashing around like bait as he calls out, “Jungkook. I’m here. I came back again. And I,” he lifts one of the vials and shakes it around, “brought something for you. If you trust me. This is so we can speak.”

Jimin wiggles his feet again, then leans forward to dip his other hand underneath the surface. With every second that passes, his heart hurts a little more, fear gripping him as it becomes more and more possible that Jungkook won’t come back after all.

No, no, no. He wouldn’t have given Jimin his scale if he didn’t plan to stick around and find out what it’s for. He trusted Jimin enough for that. Why would he leave now?

Jimin closes his eyes as he waits, holds his breath, focuses everything on hearing the swamp and the subtle ripples of water in the distance. Sometimes, when he listens close enough, Jimin swears he can hear the sea far off in the distance. He wonders if that’s where Jungkook is now, if he left the home he made for himself here and went back to where he belongs.

“Jungkook,” Jimin says again, as softly as he can as he practically bends himself in half to get closer to the water. “I’m sorry I scared you yesterday. I didn’t mean to. I just want a chance to—”

A hand shoots out of the water in front of his face, finger pressed to Jimin’s lips when he yelps. It pushes him back, another webbed hand snatching the vial from him. Jungkook quickly darts out of Jimin’s reach as soon as he has what he wants, the vial clutched to his chest. He casts Jimin a wary look, then looks down at the potion.

“For you,” Jimin says, then he holds up the other vial. “And for me. To speak.” He points back and forth between himself and Jungkook. “So we can understand each other. Like Yoongi said.”

Jungkook’s head whips around to look at Jimin again. “Yoongi?”

“The… demon that was here with me yesterday.” Jimin knows he could lie about what Yoongi is, but he has a feeling Jungkook already knows. Lying will only make Jungkook more hesitant. He uncorks his own vial and lifts it to his lips, watching every move Jungkook makes. “Drink. I’ll go first.”

Jimin tips his head back and lets the potion burn across his tongue and down his throat. It’s not the most pleasant taste, but he’s had far worse, and he gulps it down easily enough, then opens his mouth to show Jungkook that it’s gone.

The siren’s eyes dart along Jimin’s body, then over to where Jimin sticks the vial in the mud, and finally down to the potion in his hands. He turns it around and around, then twists the cork a few times before he pops it out. With one last glance at Jimin, he throws his head back and lets the potion pour down his throat.

Jungkook lets out a noise of discontent, shuddering and wrinkling his nose at the taste of it. He gags, and Jimin can’t help but giggle at the sight, covering his mouth with his hand when Jungkook looks at him.

“Sorry,” Jimin says as he holds his hand out for the vial, which Jungkook corks and places gently in his palm. “I know it tastes gross. Potions usually do. Hard to make them good when you have to work with such weird ingredients all the time. At least this one mostly tastes like salt, right? You should be used to that, though. You’re from the sea, aren’t you?”

He knows he’s rambling, but it feels like that’s all Jimin can do. He just wants Jungkook to know he’s not a threat. All Jimin really is, at the very core of his heart, is a silly little witch with too much curiosity.

“I am,” Jungkook says, but there’s a certain cadence to his voice now. It makes Jimin feel dizzy for a moment, his eyes losing focus as he stares at Jungkook until he realizes what this must mean. “I came here through the tidal channels years ago to find a witch who could help me.”

Jimin can’t contain his excitement. The spell is working. He’s giddy, practically bouncing in the mud and kicking his feet like a child. It’s always a thrill when a spell works, but especially this one. They can finally talk.

“You can— You can understand me now?” Jimin asks, leaning so far forward he’s surprised he doesn’t tip right into the water. Jungkook sinks down until the water covers his mouth, and then he nods. “By the gods, I— Okay, wow, oh, I— I have so many questions for you. Why—”

“No,” Jungkook says as he swims closer, head rising above the water again. He stops just out of Jimin’s reach. “I want to ask you first.”

Jimin nods, hands curling into the mud on either side of himself. As eager as he is, Jungkook is the one who had to sacrifice something he clearly didn’t want to for this. He was the one who was scared. He deserves his answer first. Jimin is simply curious. He can wait.

“What do you want from me?”

That simple question freezes Jimin in place. He stares at Jungkook, eyes wide, blinking a few times before he clears his throat.

“Nothing. Nothing particular, really. I just want to understand who you are and why you’re here,” Jimin answers. That’s all there is to it. He doesn’t know what answers Jungkook is looking for, but that’s all he has to offer. “I’ve been studying and I can’t find anything about sirens living in a place like this. That’s what you are, right?”

Jungkook nods.

“I am,” he says again. “But I chose to come here. Why did you come to this place?”

“Freedom,” Jimin says, earning a curious tilt of the siren’s head. It brings a smile to Jimin’s face. “Humans have a lot of rules about magic. There were things I wanted to study that I couldn’t. If I ever stepped out of line, they could have locked me up. I lived in a city and everything was carefully regulated. If I wanted to buy ingredients for potions, they would keep records of it and then investigate me if they thought I was doing something suspicious.”

Something about that makes Jungkook back away, creating more distance between himself and Jimin. It’s hard not to panic and reach out, to beckon Jungkook to him again and promise that Jimin is trustworthy. But right now, he’s afraid that any slight movement might scare Jungkook off.

“If what you do is good, then they should have no reason to lock you away for it,” Jungkook says, and Jimin’s heart sinks.

“No— No, no, wait, please,” Jimin says, reaching out with both hands, palms up. “I promise, I’m not here to hurt you or… anything in this place. The rules back home were so strict. I couldn’t do anything. They were suspicious of everything witches do, so I—”

“Maybe they should be.”

Jimin’s eyes widen further, stinging with tears as Jungkook moves away again. He slowly lowers his hands into the water to let the mud wash away, his fingers numb and aching to touch Jungkook again.

Jungkook dips back into the water, just his eyes peeking out and the tips of his ears sticking up.

“What did the witch here do to you?” Jimin asks as he pulls his hands into his lap. He wrings them together, gripping tight to show Jungkook that he’s not going to touch him unless Jungkook wants him to. “You said you came here to find a witch. What did they do to scare you so much?”

They stare at each other for a long moment before Jungkook closes his eyes. He squeezes them shut tight, grimacing beneath the water at whatever memories float through his mind. Jimin wishes he could hear them all.

“I came here to make a deal. She tricked me,” Jungkook says. He drifts toward Jimin again, his eyes locked onto Jimin’s right knee as he slowly reaches out to touch it. “That is all you need to know. I have waited ever since for someone to come help me.”

“And you were hoping I would be that person.” Jimin swallows hard, watching Jungkook’s hand inch its way up his thigh. “But then I brought a demon to you and asked you for your scale, and that scared you. You thought I was like her. I’m not.”

Jungkook slowly raises his eyes to meet Jimin’s. Both hands come to rest on Jimin’s legs, cool and wet against his thighs as Jungkook lifts himself up.

“I care for and protect nature and all its creatures,” Jimin whispers, tasting salty sweetness on the air again as Jungkook’s eyes level with his. “That includes you. I only asked for your scale so we could talk. Not to take something from you. Is that—”

Jimin bites his lip, breath catching in his throat as he finally risks reaching out. His fingers splay across the side of Jungkook’s neck, carefully ghosting over his gills and up to cup his cheek. The bits and pieces of what Jungkook has said begin to click into place.

“Is that what the other witch did to you?”

The grip on Jimin’s thighs tightens, Jungkook’s eyes burning into him as he sways in the water. And then he lifts himself up even higher, turning to pull himself part way into Jimin’s lap. Jimin huffs at the sudden weight atop him, water rushing off of Jungkook’s tail and down Jimin’s leg. Jungkook leans in close, one hand stretched past Jimin to brace on the ground while the other takes hold of Jimin’s wrist.

Jimin lets Jungkook guide his hand to the side of his tail, sliding his fingers along it, right to a spot just above the water. There’s a little patch with no scales left, just exposed skin, scarred over from years of pulling scales from it, Jimin assumes. Jungkook lets go of his hand and allows Jimin to touch the scar freely, tracing the edges of the area.

He tastes bile in his throat, sick at the thought of someone doing this to another living creature. Some of Jimin’s practices in magic can be questionable, but not like this. He could never do something like this and still live with himself.

“She trapped you here to— to take your scales?” Jimin asks, following the edges of each scale down, then back up to Jungkook’s hip. They’re slick with water, his fingers slipping over their smooth surface easily until he reaches the area where it fades into human skin along his torso. Jimin stops there when he hears a slight tremor in Jungkook’s breath.

“And my tears,” Jungkook says, wrenching Jimin’s gaze back up. Jimin feels cold despite the warmth around them. He turns his head to look into Jungkook’s eyes, the siren’s face so close to his that Jimin leans back instinctively. “If I cried from the pain, she would harvest my tears too. Said they were powerful.”

Harvest them. She harvested a living, breathing being. She trapped Jungkook here for an endless supply of magical ingredients. As though he’s just some kind of mindless plant to pluck scales from like leaves, growing them back over and over as if it costs him nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers, nearly nose to nose with Jungkook now, the siren’s eyes tracing his face.

“Not your fault.” Jungkook seems to lean in, Jimin’s heart stopping when he feels warm breath on his lips.

“No, but a witch should never— We should never do things like this to a living creature,” Jimin says. His hand slides along Jungkook’s ribs, thumb brushing a scale at his hip. He doesn’t know why he touches Jungkook like this, his mind lost in the black orbs staring back at him. He can’t think. He just feels. “I’m sorry that someone who claims the same title as me would do this to you.”

The weight of Jungkook’s gaze makes Jimin feel so small, watched under the eyes of a predator. He knows what Jungkook could do to him if he wanted. He also knows Jungkook never would. And he feels oddly safe under the touch of someone so dangerous.

“Not your fault,” Jungkook repeats before he slides off Jimin’s lap and back into the water, both hands on his thighs again. He leaves a muddy handprint on Jimin before he begins scooping water up to wash it off.

Jimin breathes in deeply, the wheels of his brain finally able to turn again now that Jungkook isn’t so close. It’s still hard to think with this man between his legs, his hand clamped over Jimin’s thigh, head resting on his hand while the other traces Jimin’s leg that he had just washed the mud from.

“How did she keep you here?” Jimin asks, eager to move on to something else that makes him feel a little less tingly.

“Magic.” Jungkook seems right at home with his head in Jimin’s lap, unwilling to move away. “She placed a curse on me. I came here, asked for a deal. She promised me. Went back to her hut. Next day, I was stuck. All I could do was swim in circles in the same parts of the swamp,” his hand leaves Jimin’s thigh to draw circles in the surface of the water instead, “over and over and over.”

“So that’s why you never come to the hut to see me. You can’t go that far,” Jimin says. Every answer he gets brings him another ten questions he wants to ask. “How far can you go?”

“To the beginning of tidal channels, but not far enough to get a view of the sea.” Jungkook slips away from Jimin’s lap to point deeper into the swamp, toward the winding labyrinth cut by rising and falling tides. “She kept me far enough away from my people that they would never hear my song. And then I can go north,” Jungkook points the other way, “to the area where saltwater meets river water, but no farther. I can’t go up the streams or the mountain rivers. Just a half-circle around your home.”

“And you— Sorry. I keep asking so many questions. If you weren’t trapped here, you’d probably be swimming away from me as fast as you can,” Jimin says with a weak laugh, head shaking at himself. Bad time to joke, he knows, but it makes Jungkook smile. “What happened to her? The witch? She wouldn’t have just left if she still had you here. You’re… valuable.”

It makes him sick to say that, no matter how true he knows it is. Thankfully, Jungkook seems to understand that’s not how Jimin feels, it’s just what he’s observed.

Jungkook seems to hesitate on his answer, hands flexing over Jimin’s thighs, doing that thing where he kneads at stuff. This time, with his webbed hands against bare skin, he makes Jimin shiver with a thrill he’s only ever felt under the touch of another human.

“One day, she caught me… with her net, like she always did.”

Jungkook kneads and kneads, Jimin’s legs beginning to squeeze closed of their own accord, knees coming together to hide the excitement he absolutely shouldn’t feel in a moment like this. He knows Jungkook doesn’t mean to, but the way he touches Jimin makes this inevitable.

“But the ropes were weak. She turned her back,” Jungkook continues, his head down, eyes up to watch Jimin. His shoulders hunch slightly, trying to hide himself away from Jimin as he confesses. That’s what this is, Jimin thinks—a confession. “I pulled her into the water and…”

Jimin nods. He doesn’t need Jungkook to say any more. Jimin lets go of mud on either side of him. He hadn’t realized how tightly he had been gripping it, his fingers leaving divots so deep they look like tiny tunnels.

“Can I ask you more now?” Jungkook asks as Jimin washes his hands off.

With a sheepish laugh, Jimin nods. “Yeah, I can shut up long enough.”

“You do not fear me?” Jungkook asks the question so quickly, barely letting Jimin finish first. “Even after hearing that? What if I hurt you?”

Jimin stares at him in awe, more questions cropping up as he tries to tie his tongue around an answer. “She tortured you, Jungkook,” he says. He reaches up to cup Jungkook’s face, lifting it so he no longer cowers from his own admissions. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You fought back because she hurt you. What else were you supposed to do?”

A long beat passes, nothing but the sound of frogs croaking and fish splashing. Jungkook suddenly presses forward, forcing Jimin to lean back slightly, his hands locked behind Jungkook’s neck. The siren seems to study him for a moment, eyes darting all over his face, all over his body, then back up.

“I have never wanted to hurt someone before. And I tried not to. I didn’t want to. And I knew that if I hurt her, she would never let me go. Or if she was dead, then she could never break the curse. But I let my anger overpower me and I—”

Jungkook tries to pull away, but Jimin holds him tighter, pulling him right back into his space. Anything to tell Jungkook that he’s not afraid, that he did nothing wrong. He fought back against someone who hurt him.

Anyone in his position would do the same.

“Why did you keep coming back to me?” Jungkook asks. “You did not know you could trust me before.”

“I didn’t. But I was curious about you. I wanted to know what you were. That’s what I do.” Jimin’s fingers press lightly into the back of Jungkook’s neck, working at the muscles there, trying to ease Jungkook’s tension. “I try to understand and love nature. And all its creatures.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up. “Like me?”

“Like you. Listen, Jungkook, I—” Jimin takes a deep breath, eyes closed. Now is as good a time as any to explain his magic and what it costs him. What it costs them. Eventually, Jungkook will have to understand what it takes for them to communicate like this. Considering what happened to Jungkook, it’s better to inform sooner so he doesn’t feel misled. “I have more of this potion, but it won’t last forever. If we want to keep talking…”

“You need more scales.”

Jimin nods, lips pressed together, hands coming to rest on Jungkook’s shoulders. “You don’t have to—”

“I will.” The smallest of smiles curls Jungkook’s lips, pointy tips of his teeth poking out. “For you.”

“You don’t have to do it for free,” Jimin says, once again struggling to catch his breath from how close Jungkook is. He breathes in salt and sea air, even when he knows they’re so far from it. Jungkook is the sea. “I believe that if I take from nature, I have to give something back. If there’s anything you want from me, just name it. Anything at all. I understand that your scales are a sacrifice that no siren should have to make. And it’s especially painful for you because of your history.”

“You give me enough by being here,” Jungkook says, leaning closer still. His tongue slides along his lips, slow and deliberate, the long, sharp tip of it curling before it retreats to hide behind sharp teeth again. “Could you break the curse?”

Jimin’s mouth drops open, forming a little circle as he lets that sink in. He should have expected this, but it still sends his heart into a frantic tailspin. He can’t promise things he’s not sure about, but it’s so hard to say no while staring into those eyes.

“Oh. I— I can certainly try but, Jungkook, I’m not that powerful,” he says. He has to at least give Jungkook that. He deserves it. “If I’m honest, I’m a young witch. I haven’t been practicing long. I won’t be able to do it right away, but I can work on it. For you.”

Jungkook nods, eyes wandering as he considers those words. He works his hands back up Jimin’s thighs, fingers teasing beneath his shorts but stopping before they reach too high. His sharp teeth work over his lip before he grins and asks, “I can visit every day while you try?”

“Of course,” Jimin says through a laugh. He lets his fingers trail down to Jungkook’s chest, and then he licks his lips and forces his hands back onto Jungkook’s shoulders. Safer there. “There’s another pool of water closer to the hut. I can see it from the back window.”

Jungkook freezes as soon as those words leave him, sinking back into the water and out of Jimin’s reach. Sorrow washes over Jimin when he sees the way Jungkook’s eyes drift up to him, then snap away, head ducked again before he shakes it back and forth rapidly.

“Oh. Is that where…?” Jimin trails off as the memory of those frayed ropes behind the hut rush to the front of his mind.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, nodding as he pushes his hair back from his face, shaking water from his long locks before he lets them spill down his neck again. “That was where she first trapped me. Where we made the deal. Where I would go when I would try to make her free me. I do not go there anymore.”

“I’m sorry—”

“You had no way of knowing.” Jungkook drifts back over to Jimin, wet hands sliding back onto Jimin’s thighs as he lifts himself. He rests between Jimin’s legs, arms wrapping around Jimin’s waist as he peers up at him. “There is another pond. Across from your home, right in front of it. I used to watch you come in and out of the front door before we first spoke.”

Coming from anyone else, those words would be terrifying, but Jungkook saying it just makes Jimin smile. He doesn’t know what about this beautiful creature is so disarming, but Jimin can’t help feeling charmed. It’s not even the siren song that does it. It’s just Jungkook himself.

“Why don’t you go there more often?” Jimin asks as he twists a strand of Jungkook’s hair around his fingers. His heart swells when he sees Jungkook smile at the touch. “You can come see me there if you want. Might be a little easier for me to bring you food and things.”

“I can do that,” Jungkook says, hands pawing across Jimin’s back, kneading at his shirt. “I prefer to spend time here. Water is deeper. Easier to swim. But I can visit there.”

“You can walk on land too, can’t you?” Jimin asks as he cocks his head, pushing his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. He’s playing with fire, touching Jungkook like this, letting his heart grow so fond of a man that likely won’t stay here if they break this curse. He belongs to the sea. A creature like him doesn’t belong in a place like this.

“I can,” Jungkook replies, his eyes drifting shut as he leans his head into Jimin’s hand. “Not before, though.”

Jimin trembles when he breathes, but he keeps his smile on his face when Jungkook opens his eyes again. “What do you mean?”

“When she first cursed me,” Jungkook explains, leaning heavily on Jimin’s right leg so he can draw patterns on the left once again, “it took away my ability to shift to a human form too. I was only able to be in the water. But when I killed her, for some reason I was able to step onto land again. I thought that meant the curse broke, but when I ran to her hut, it was as though I hit an invisible wall. I still could not get any closer to it.”

Magic can be such a curious thing sometimes. Jimin has never heard of a curse changing after its caster dies. Usually, the curse just goes on like nothing happened at all. That’s just one more thing for him to study and try to understand about this whole, strange situation.

“How long have—” Jimin swallows down his own voice, wondering if he really wants to hear the answer to this question. Especially not with Jungkook staring up at him with those doe eyes. His heart has already broken a hundred times since they started talking. “How long ago did she curse you?”

Jungkook’s eyes go even wider than before, impossibly so. He gnaws at his lip once more as he thinks, lost in the past, trying to tally up the time. But then he shrugs and shakes his head, and that’s when Jimin’s heart truly shatters.

“That long, huh?”

With his eyes falling shut again, Jungkook nods, his body sinking deeper into the water as his head comes to rest on Jimin’s lap again. Jimin hears himself make a little sound of shock at the way Jungkook settles in so quickly, treating Jimin like his personal pillow. His hands hover over Jungkook’s head, unsure what to do or how to touch him or if he should anymore.

He supposes it can’t hurt to let Jungkook enjoy this. He’s been starved of intimacy for so long, and the last touch he knew was cruel and torturous. The least Jimin can give him is the kindness and affection that every person deserves.

So Jimin lets himself trace along the sharp points of Jungkook’s ears, then rests his hands in Jungkook’s hair again, stroking through the wet mat of black and brushing it out with his fingers. He feels a slight rumble from Jungkook’s chest, a strange sound that isn’t quite like gurgling but has the same rhythm to it. Almost like he’s purring.

Everything about Jungkook is so hard for Jimin to wrap his mind around, but he’s going to try his best.

“I’ll break the curse for you,” Jimin promises even when he knows he shouldn’t, and that purring noise only grows louder, Jungkook’s arms squeezing tightly around Jimin.

Jimin promises, and he’ll try his hardest to fulfill that too.

Notes:

WHEEEEEEEEEE I'm posting both chapters at once so make sure you drop your thoughts in a lil comment on this one before moving on! 😉

Also, please check out this lovely art that Deni made for this fic and cry with me 😭