Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Try scrying, she said.

It'll be easy, she said.

But as Jimin was looking at his own reflection in the mirror, he knew it would be anything but.

His eyes flickered around his face, and then to the corners of the mirror where he could see his alarm clock that read 1 a.m., a few arms of his shirts hanging out of his dresser drawers, and even a few rings scattered across the top. Maybe he should put those back...

He shook his head. Focus, Jimin, focus.

Rolling his shoulders back and tilting his head to either side, he tried to put all his attention on his reflection once again.

This had started out as a joke, to be honest.

It was a pretty well known fact amongst his friends that Jimin could get pretty harsh on himself. He was just never satisfied. If he got an A, he felt like he should've tried for an A+; if he was a little off in the position of his foot for a turn, he would repeat it until it was right.

“It's only off by half an inch,” his teammates would try to reassure him.

But if it were only a half an inch, then why should he settle?

“I don't understand, Jimin,” Hoseok had said after they finished up practice for the day. “I mean, I do understand why you would want to fix something small, I get that. What I don't get is working yourself to the bone.”

Jimin had shrugged, wiping the back of his neck with a small towel. “Because it's not enough to just be good, hyung. I want to be great.”

Hoseok sighed and popped the lid off his water bottle. “I guess,” he muttered before taking a long drink. When he was finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

“Maybe he can.”

The two men turned around towards the unfamiliar voice. It was a girl on the team, Jiyoo, Jimin recalled. She was a freshman, a naturally quiet girl who didn't stick out too much. So when she approached them, speaking so calmly and casually, it took Jimin a minute to recover. In that time, she began again.

“My mom grew up in a small village and they were pretty traditional. They used a lot of old rituals and, yeah, a lot of them don't work, but she still swears by scrying.”

Hoseok looked hesitant, but Jimin spoke before he could interject. “Scrying?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it's like fortune telling? But not? It lets you see into the past, present, and possible futures. Some say that it allows you to speak to your ancestors. But either way, it lets you see visions.”

“I don't know,” Hoseok said, his shoulders tense, “that doesn't even sound rea-”

“Teach me.” Jimin cut him off, his eyes wide with wonder.

Now, Jimin unlocked his phone to read the instructions she had sent him. It was simple enough; get comfortable in front of a mirror (and since he only had a floor length mirror, the floor it was), have a candle placed where it could reflect in said mirror (he didn't have a white, tall candle like the movies, but he assumed his fresh cotton candle would work just as well), and have some purified crystals nearby. This part wasn't necessary, she said, but she gave them to him anyways.

“What you need to know,” she had said, “is that the things you feel, taste, think; they are not your own. You are just experiencing who or what you're channeling. Be careful, and don't lose yourself.”

With that thought in mind, Jimin took a deep breath and focused once again in the mirror. He watched as the flame created shadows across his face and started the incantation that allowed himself to fall into a trance.

“Please show me my real self,” he muttered, his voice low and steady.

“Please show me my real self,” he repeated, but nothing happened.

“Please show me my real self, please show me my real self, please show me my real self, please show me my-”

He could see himself.

But it wasn't where he was sitting.

He watched himself as he entered a door, an apartment door, and give a wide smile, but before mirror Jimin could say or do anything else, Jimin jumped back away from the mirror.

“Holy shit!” He squeaked out, his hands flying backwards to catch himself falling back. His legs kicked out in front of him, successfully knocking the candle over, and nearly smashing the mirror completely. “Shit,” he hissed quieter, pulling the pillow out from under his butt to put out any flame that threatened to burn down his entire apartment.

After lifting up the pillow to make sure there was no burn mark on the carpet nor the pillow itself, Jimin listened carefully to see if the noise had woken up his roommate, Taehyung.

When a full minute passed with no feet running to his door, Jimin assumed he was safe. He let out a sigh, grateful that he wouldn't have to explain what he was doing at nearly one-thirty in the morning.

Carefully, silently, he picked up the candle and set it on the nightstand on the other side of the room. That's enough for tonight, he decided, already feeling the wear and tear of the day weigh on his bones. He walked into the bathroom and did his usual skin care routine as quietly as possible, before going back into his room, changing into his night clothes, and crawling into bed.

It had been weird seeing his form in the reflection, especially since he knew that it did not match his own posture. He curled onto his other side. Maybe I shouldn't do this, he thought, getting a tight grip on the covers and tucking them under his chin.

–--------------

Jimin was having a bad fucking day.

To start, his stupid alarms didn't go off. None of them. He had 6 set and somehow they were all flipped to AM instead of PM. Then, when he did finally get to class, sweating profusely from the eight minute sprint he did across campus, he saw a sign that said “No class. Sorry. :(“

Fucking, sorry :(

He was trying his best to not let the “it's going to be a bad day” vibes get to him, but the day kept getting worse. He tripped on his shoelace, his water bottle lid was loose and got his dance clothes wet, his phone battery was diving faster and farther than Jungkook's gpa.

And now his god damn drink was wrong.

So here he was, with his very, very bitter drink, trying his best not to cry like a child not getting what they want.

Maybe if I stare at it long enough, it'll transform into my drink, he thought, focusing all his attention on the vile drink in front of him.

“Hey.”

Jimin looked up, surprised that anyone would bother coming over when he was practically emitting a “don't look at me” aura.

“Oh, hey Yoongi-ssi,” Jimin whispered, barely trusting his voice not to crack.

Yoongi gave a small smile. “I told you, you can call me hyung.” He said and brought his hand up to Jimin's line of sight. He was holding a steaming cup, of what, Jimin did not know. “I, um, I bought you this,” he finally said, placing the disposable cup in front of him. “I noticed you death glaring your drink, so I assumed they got the order wrong?” He curled his hands around his own cup, softly drumming his fingers against the side.

When Jimin didn't respond, too shocked to find the words, Yoongi continued. “If they didn't, you get a free drink, right?”

Yoongi continued to babble on, but Jimin was focusing on the pink blush that was spreading over his cheeks.

Yoongi was Hoseok's roommate, so he and Jimin obviously knew each other, but they never hung out separately from their little group. Jimin always thought he was cute, though, especially so when he looks like this. His black, baggy hoodie hung loosely over him, but his hands were still visible without him having to push his sleeves all the way up. A pleasure that Jimin could not relate to at all.

Even though he was a little awkward, Jimin found his blush endearing. He blushed pretty easily for someone who had resting “fuck off” face. It required very little effort, really. Sometimes, all Jimin had to do was ask him a question, and the boy could turn as bright as a glowstick.

Like he said, Jimin thought it was cute.

But as cute as he thought it was, he wasn't the type of guy to let another guy suffer. “Hyung?” he said, effectively cutting Yoongi off from his babbling. “Thank you,” he smiled before taking a sip from his freshly made drink.

Yoongi straightened up and gave him a silent nod. “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, reaching up with his now free hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Next time see you?”

Jimin tilted his head, but kept the smile on his face, trying his best understand. Yoongi's eyes widened and tried once more. “I mean, see you next time.”

Jimin didn't get a chance to respond before the other man was making a bee line for the door, not looking back once.

Cute, Jimin thought, lounging back in his seat, taking another drink from his cup.

So maybe this day wasn't completely awful, after all.

------------------

After almost a full week of bad luck, Jimin decided that it was the mirror's fault.

He didn't know what it wanted, but he was ready to smash it into smithereens.

That's why he was pacing back and forth in his room at midnight, trying to send threatening glares to the mirror to make sure it knew what it had done.

God, Jimin was finally losing it.

“You're a real piece of shit, you know that?” He told it, and, of course, he got nothing back. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “Great, now I'm talking to mirrors. This is just awesome.”

The mirror did nothing but show his disheveled reflection, which might have been much more hurtful than any other comeback that Jimin could offer it. He huffed and snatched the candle and matches off the dresser top.

“Listen,” he told it, striking the match and lighting the candle, “I'm doing this once, okay? For all I know, there's a demon in here trying to take my soul, and I like my soul where it is. So please, just let me get through this.”

He placed the now lit candle on the floor and grabbed a sweatshirt that had found a new home on Jimin's floor to fold up and use as a seat cushion.

“Let's go.”

With the candle in place, the crystals around him, he took a deep breath, like he had the first night and repeated the phrase again.

“Please show me my real self, please show me my real self, please show me my real self,” he chanted.

It took a bit longer than before, as each tiny movement would cause a spike of panic in his system, but he eventually saw the same image, no, vision, as the first night.

Jimin watched himself, once again, enter an apartment. Upon better inspection, he could recognize it as Namjoon and Jin's apartment. It looked to be one of the nights that they all met up at their place before going out into the city since Jimin was wearing one of his more iconic outfits.

Seeing it from someone else's point of view, though, gave him a much needed self esteem boost. Instead of focusing in on every little pudge or bulge that he felt were eyesores, whoever this was was looking at him.

'ah,' came a voice from inside his head, 'he looks so good. I wonder if I could pull something like that off.'

The voice of the thought was not his own, but Namjoon's instead.

'Namjoon hyung,' mirror Jimin sang sweetly, 'are you and Jin-ah ready?'

Jimin heard Namjoon laugh and felt warmth spread through his stomach. 'He's going to kill you if he hears you say that, you know.'

A mischievous smile formed over Jimin's lips. “I guess we'll have to make sure he doesn't hear me, then.”

Namjoon quirked an eyebrow. “We, huh?”

“Of course, Namjoonie hyungie.”

'Oh, he knows how to get what he wants,' Namjoon thought fondly, and Jimin could feel a pang in his heart. For a second he was worried that he had upset Namjoon in some way, but then another thought came quickly after. 'I wonder if I could just...squish him.'

Jimin hoped he meant in like how you want to squish a puppy, and not a spider.

There was a sound of the another door from behind him opening, and Jimin knew it must be Jin. Namjoon turned to look at Jin, but then the vision got all fuzzy and Jimin's hearing became muffled. What? What's happening? He worried, trying his best to focus on the swirling images. When it finally cleared up again, it was well into the night and Jimin could tell that they had been in the club for a while at this point, if the gross feeling of sweat that stuck to Namjoon's arms were any indication.

“I don't know,” Namjoon sighed, running his hand over his forearm, “maybe I just shouldn't say anything.”

Ah, Jimin remembers this.

Jimin was sitting next to Namjoon on the long, semi circle booth, his hand gently placed on his knee. Jimin could feel the warmth of his own hand through Namjoon's jeans. “I think you should,” Jimin said, giving his knee a gentle squeeze, “Having a crush should be fun and lighthearted, not painful.”

Namjoon nodded, his eyes flitting around, looking anywhere but Jimin. 'He's right, but I can't imagine feeling anything else,' he thought, rubbing his hand over his forearm. “Be honest with me, Jimin. Do you think Jungkook would say yes if I asked him out?”

Jimin could feel his own hand tighten on Namjoon's knee. “I do, cross my heart.” He lifted his hand away, causing Namjoon's eyes to return back to Jimin as he watched him draw an X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

Namjoon let out a broken laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “Jungkook may be my friend, hyung, but so are you. I wouldn't tell you to do something that would let you get hurt,” Jimin gave a kind smile, the kind where you could just begin to see his slightly crooked front tooth, and Jimin could feel the same warmth from earlier start to spread over his entire body.

Jimin watched himself bring his hand down and gently slap Namjoon's thigh. “Now come on, you should dance with me, hyung.”

“No, no. Go have fun! That's why we all came out.”

Jimin pinched his eyebrows together, confused. “That's why I'm asking you, hyung.”

'He thinks I'm fun,' Namjoon grinned and made a noise in the back of his throat, pretending to be annoyed. “Jimin-ah, I can't dance.”

But Jimin clearly had no time to argue as he shushed him and gently pushed him out of the booth. Once free from the seating area, Jimin grabbed onto Namjoon's hand and began squeezing their way through the sea of writhing bodies.

From there, the night was similar to how Jimin had remembered it. They were close together, swaying to the beat of whatever EDM mix of an idol song the DJ had decided to play. Jimin had started pinching Namjoon's cheeks whenever he would least expect it, which then started a game between the two of them as they tried to grab each other's faces.

Jimin watched as Namjoon flailed his arms and kicked his legs out in an over-dramatic style, which caused Jimin to wrap his arms around his middle and topple over laughing. He could feel himself (or Namjoon?) get lighter and lighter with each laugh. Namjoon took everything in; how Jimin's eyes would close, how his nose would crinkle up, and how truly carefree he sounded as he threw himself forward, as if his body couldn't contain how happy he was.

Jimin could feel his chest constrict as Namjoon couldn't hold back his own laughter, overflowing with pure joy. 'Ah, I truly am lucky, aren't I?' Namjoon thought as Jimin stumbled forward to draw him in for a tight hug.

A loud sob ripped Jimin away from the scene in front of him, bringing him back inside his room. He listened closely for any other noise that could alert him to someone else in his apartment, but he only heard the sound of his own ragged breathing.

The sob had come from him.

Jimin quickly placed his hand over his mouth, as if he could suppress the noises that were trying to escape him. Once he started, though, he couldn't stop. Hot tears poured down his cheeks, and then over his finger tips as he let himself be submerged by the intensity of his emotions.

When it came down to it, he knew that Namjoon loved him; of course he did, they were friends. He loved Namjoon just as much. But to see it, to feel it, that was something that he could never have imagined.

He needed to call Namjoon right now.

Jimin sniffled loudly, and quite frankly, grossly, before reaching out to find his phone. He knew he left it somewhere around here, but blindly looking in the dark wasn't providing any clues. He blew out the candle in front of him and scrambled up to turn on the lights.

With the room now lit up, he easily spotted his phone in he middle of his bed. Without wasting a second, he pounced on it and pulled up Namjoon's contact and pressed “call” without a second thought.

It rang a few times, before a very groggy “hello?” answered.

“Hyung,” he breathed out, his voice cracking.

“Jimin-ah,” Namjoon's voice sounded just as thick with sleep, but much more alert than before. “It's almost one-thirty in the morning, is everything okay?”

Oh, right, Jimin startled and looked over at the clock on the nightstand, it's really late.

“Jimin?” Namjoon asked, worried over the silence.

“Yeah, I'm okay, hyung,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes, “I'm okay. I just, I don't know, I need you to know that I love you, okay?”

The response was immediate. “I love you too, Jimin, but you're kind of scaring me. Are you sure everything's okay? No one's there right? Say hummingbird if there's someone listening.”

Jimin laughed wetly. “No one's here, hyung. I just got overwhelmed for a second.” He took in a shaky breath before collapsing back on his bed. “Does that ever happen to you?”

He could hear the sheets shifting on the other side of the line, the groan of the old bed following after. “Sometimes, yeah. Do you want to talk about it?”

His eyes darted over to the bright red numbers on the clock. “No, not tonight,” he said, bringing his focus back onto his ceiling. “I'm sorry I woke you up, by the way.”

Namjoon hummed. “It's no problem, Jimin. Although I suggest that you shouldn't do this to Hobi. He might actually kill you.”

“You're probably right,” Jimin yawned, the fatigue from his crying session and the late hour finally catching up to him.

“You should go to sleep now, huh?”

Jimin bit his lip. He was tired, yeah, but he wanted to make sure that Namjoon knew that he truly meant what he said. “Maybe...”

On the other side of the line, Namjoon yawned as well. “We both should go to sleep,” he emphasized.

“Oh, shit, yeah, sorry. I'll let you get to sleep.” Jimin shook his head, trying to restart his thoughts. “Just know that I love you, okay? A lot.”

He heard the other man chuckle. “I love you too, Jimin. Now go to sleep, we can talk more tomorrow about what a great hyung I am.”

“Ha.” Jimin let out a single laugh. “We'll see.”

“Good night, Jimin-ah.” He could hear the grin in Namjoon's voice, which in turn made Jimin grin as well.

“Good night, Namjoon hyung.”

With that, Jimin pulled his phone away from his ear, and pressed the red hang up button. He let his arm fall across the bed, letting go of his phone so that it bounced next to him.

Despite the emotional tole it took on him, Jimin was glad that he saw the vision. It was eye opening, to say the least. He wanted to be a good person, he always has, but to know that all his efforts weren't for naught, it made him want to do more.

“Oh,” he said into the darkness before slipping over onto his stomach as he reached for his phone. Again, he pulled up Namjoon's contact, but this time he typed out the message.

'hyung, lets go shopping, yeah?'

As Jimin shimmied out of his pants, much too tired to think about putting on real pajamas, he heard his phone ding.

'Sure, Jiminie :)'

Chapter Text

They did end up going shopping later that week. It had been very successful, in Jimin's opinion. He got Namjoon into a skirt, which Jimin had proceeded to hype up for over ten minutes until Namjoon agreed to put in the piles of clothes.

The overall experience made Jimin feel light and fluttery, and he wasn't ready for it to end. He had whined and held onto Namjoon for as long as possible, but the man did have to leave at some point.

“I need to work on my research paper,” he had said, untangling himself from Jimin's grasp around his waist. “I think Hobi is at his place? Go visit him for a while, I'm sure he'd love to give you all the aftercare you need.”

“Fuck you,” Jimin had grumbled, but still cuddled into his shoulder nevertheless.

That's how he found himself digging through his pockets outside of his hyung's apartment. When he finally found the set of keys Hobi had given him, he shoved it in the lock and made his way inside with a loud, dramatic sigh.

“Hyuuuung,” he groaned, throwing his arms out to drop his bags on the floor, before plopping himself down on the couch in front of him. “Hyung, you have to take of me.”

He could feel the dip at the other end of the couch, so he pushed himself up further to wrap his arms around Hoseok's ankles and nuzzle into his calves. “Namjoonie denied me aftercare. You have to take his place.”

“Um,” said a man that was definitely not Hoseok. Jimin's head shot up and found himself face to face with Yoongi's wide eyes peering over the book he was reading.

They let the silence wash over them for a few more painstakingly slow moments. Fuck. “You're not Hobi hyung.”

Eloquent as always, Jimin.

Yoongi stared back, staying as still as stone. “No I am not.”

Silence fell over them once again. Jimin could hear his heartbeat in his ears. God, could Yoongi feel it through his pants? Hopefully not, he didn't want him to think that he had a weird thing for feet or anything. Fuck he needs to say something. “So, uh, when I say aftercare, I mean–“

“I know what aftercare is,” Yoongi said quickly. This time, it was Jimin's turn to widen his eyes, taking in a sharp, short breath. Shit, now Yoongi could definitely feel his heartbeat. “Fuck, I mean, I know what it is, yeah, you know. I know the definition.”

Jimin barely had time to note the fact that Yoongi's adorable blush had returned to his cheeks in his desperate attempt to fizzle out the awkward tension. “Um, yeah, I just mean that Hobi lets me lay on him for a bit. Not aftercare aftercare...” he trailed off, not sure on what to say next.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily so, Yoongi seemed just as lost. “Ah,” he said, his eyes darting between him and the book.

“What are you reading?” Jimin asked before another long beat of awkward silence could suffocate them both.

“To be honest...” Yoongi said, setting the book down onto the arm rest, “I've been staring at the same page for, like, forty minutes. I have no clue.”

Jimin couldn't stop the giggles that came bubbling past his lips. He tried to bring up his hand to stop them as to not offend Yoongi, but he found himself completely wrapped up in the other's leg, which just made the giggles even harder to stop.

“What's so funny, Park Jimin?” Yoongi teased, carefully, easily, “is my pain funny to you?”

Yoongi shook his leg, causing Jimin to shake along with it, and the giggles morphed into fully laughter as he buried his forehead against Yoongi's shin. “No! Not at all, Yoongi-ssi. Wait, I mean Yoongi hyung,” he corrected, giving Yoongi a big, toothy smile.

He watched as Yoongi turned his head to the side in an attempt to hide his blush, but the tips of his ears gave him away. “Hyung! Don't hide your blush from me! I think it's really cute,” Jimin said matter-o-factually.

“Shut up, Park Jimin,” Yoongi choked out, giving his leg another shake. “You shouldn't lie to your hyungs, you know.”

Jimin's bright smile slowly faded into a frown. No, that wasn't true. He untangled from Yoongi's legs and pushed himself up further, bringing himself up so he sat on his knees between Yoongi's thighs and the back of the cushion. “Hyung, I'm not lying,” he pouted, “it really is cute.”

Just when Jimin thought that Yoongi couldn't turn any deeper shade of red, he watched the man turn a brilliant crimson. Jimin could swear that he felt the heat rolling off of Yoongi's body.

Yoongi looked at him from the corner of his eye, not even bothering to turn all the way towards him. “What are you doing?”

“I'm complimenting you?”

“Disgusting,” he whispered before pushing his thighs back, squishing Jimin between them and the seat cushion.

“Oof,” Jimin wheezed, throwing his arms over the back of the couch to allow his torso more room. “Hyung, please,” he pressed out, his diaphragm being pinned against the cushion. When he didn't get any lenience, he decided it was time to take matters into his own hands.

He twisted his body, probably cracking a few vertebrae in the process, and pinched Yoongi's hip.

The man let out a yelp and moved his thighs away, allowing Jimin enough time to escape. He ended up on the other side of the couch, curled up into himself with his hands out in front, ready for a fight. Yoongi just rolled his eyes. “Aren't you looking for Hobi?”

“I don't know, maybe. Why? Did you squish him to death as well?”

“No, of course not. He pays half of the rent here,” he lips twitched up at his own joke. “He's at the dance studio. Something about extra practice.”

Extra practice? Jimin hadn't heard anything about that. He dropped his hands down from his defensive position and pulled out his phone. There weren't any texts between him and Hobi personally about extra practice. He didn't even see any about it in the dance group chat. “He didn't tell me about it,” he whispered, aimlessly scrolling in his messages.

“He probably didn't think you needed it,” Yoongi said easily, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Probably knows I'm too far gone to help,” Jimin said, more to himself than trying to continue the conversation.

Which is why he didn't really expect to feel the dull kick of Yoongi's foot against his knee.

“Hey!” Jimin whined, rubbing his assaulted knee, “what was that for?”

Yoongi retracted his foot, curling back into himself. “Don't say shit like that, you know that's not why. Hoseok would tell you directly if there was something wrong with your routine, or whatever it is you guys are working on. If you didn't get a message from him, then that's a good thing.” Yoongi returned to pick up his book, attempting to actually read this time. “Plus, I've seen you dance before. If anything, he probably thinks you're too good to help, or something like that.”

With that, he flipped the book open and tried to find the page that he was on. He found it and dragged his finger down the page until he picked up where he left off.

Jimin could feel warmth spreading over his cheeks, but he couldn't do anything but stare at the elder. Yoongi wasn't the type of guy to give out compliments so freely. Or maybe he was, but not in front of others. Even so, it sparked something in Jimin's gut.

He liked it when Yoongi complimented him.

He really, really liked it.

He licked his lips, trying to wet them as he suddenly felt them go dry, but before he could say anything, Yoongi spoke again.

“Oh, and, uh...You also look cute. You know, when you blush.”

Oh shit, Jimin thought, his chest swelling as he played his words over and over again.

“And, I don't know, if you want to...I could give you that 'aftercare.' But only if you want to.”

Oh fuck.

Hoseok did eventually arrive back at his apartment later that evening, and he found Jimin and Yoongi on the couch together, Jimin's legs across Yoongi's lap.

“Ah, so Jimin told you about his foot fetish?” Hoseok had said with a completely blank face.

So much for not letting Yoongi think he's weird.

But after a long evening of pushing down whatever budding feelings Jimin was feeling towards Yoongi, he decided it was time to go back to his own apartment.

Which he did.

And now he's in front of the mirror again.

It's not his fault, okay? The thoughts of the secret practice from earlier were still wiggling in the back of his mind.

So now he's hear once again, in front of his mirror with his candle, chanting the phrase over and over again.

“Please show me my real self, please show me my real self, please show me my real self, please show me–“

“Higher, Jimin! Your back leg needs to be higher!” Hoseok shouted, watching Jimin dance in front of the mirror. It was well after practice, but Jimin had convinced him to stay and watch him. 'I can't ever say no to my Jiminie' Hoseok thought as he watched Jimin twirl with a look of determination on his face.

“Do you have to yell at him?” He heard Yoongi ask. Jimin was shocked as Hoseok turned and looked at the man next to him. He doesn't remember Yoongi watching him, but if the way he was dancing told him anything, Jimin wouldn't have noticed if an earthquake brought the building down.

Hoseok quirked an eyebrow. “What? Do you hate when I yell at precious Jimin?” He teased lightly, earning himself a knock from Yoongi's hip. “But to answer your question, yes, I do.”

Okay, that hurt a little, Jimin grimaced.

Hoseok continued. “The music is pretty loud, plus, he gets lost in his head sometimes. Yelling helps snap him out of it a little.”

Yoongi didn't seem to pleased with the answer, but let it go.

Why does Yoongi hyung look upset? Jimin wondered, but didn't have time to think about it any longer before Hoseok turned back to Jimin to look at him through the mirror once the music stopped. “A lot better, Jiminie boy! From the top.”

Jimin watched himself give Hoseok a nod before running to the start position. Hoseok pushed the play button on his phone and music filled the room again.

It really was strange watching his dance through Hoseok's eyes. Each little movement, each facial expression, each turn of the wrist, Hoseok watched it all.

'Good,' he thought.

'He fixed his foot position, he'll need to remember that'

'Good! Better!'

'The back leg is still a little low, I should ask him if he's in pain.'

“Don't you think he needs a break?” Yoongi asked, dragging both Jimin and Hoseok from his thoughts.

No, go back, Jimin wanted to whine, he wanted to see more. Unfortunately, he was but a passenger on this ride.

“Jimin would tell me if he needed a break,” Hoseok tried to reassure him, but the swirl Jimin could feel in his gut told him otherwise.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “This is the same Jimin who works himself until midnight, right? I'm just making sure you're not confusing him with someone else.”

Smart ass, Jimin huffed.

'Smart ass,' Hoseok thought soon after. “I just want him to be good. No, great. I want him to be great.” Hoseok sighed, curling his hands over his biceps. “I'm going to make him captain when I leave. I already talked to the whole team about it, and they agreed. He's obviously the best, but...”

But? Jimin wanted to urge.

Yoongi waited for his friend to finish. “But?”

“He needs to see all these small things. All of them. He can't just focus on one aspect of the dance, or one position, or else he'll lose sight of what he's trying to do.”

That...makes sense, Jimin supposed. As he watched himself through Hoseok's eyes, he did notice how he never stayed in one place for too long. Jimin would think about his first mistake throughout the entire routine, and maybe even into the next one.

“That may be so,” Yoongi pushed, “but I still think he needs a break. Maybe tell him that he's the best? Or, hell, that he has a good face or something.”

Jimin could feel the smirk spread over Hoseok's lips. “Why don't you tell him that he has a good face or something, Yoongles?”

“Fuck you,” Yoongi grumbled, fully shoving him this time. Hoseok laughed loudly, catching himself as he stumbled to the side.

“I'll see you at home, yeah?” Hoseok grinned, watching his roommate shuffled towards the door.

“Whatever.”

“Can you get some take out? I'm starving.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already used that one!”

Yoongi flipped him off as he walked through the door. 'Ah, my precious hyungie' Hoseok smiled to himself and then turned his attention back onto his precious dongsaeng.

The music finally faded out once again, and without another word, Jimin got back into the starting position. “Ready!” he shouted, his chest still heaving from the previous run.

Hoseok pressed his lips out in a pout. 'We could probably finish up in another two runs,' he considered, but as he continued to look at Jimin's form, he decided against it.

“Jimin-ah! Come here! Sit with hyung for a while,” he called over, backing up against the wall and sitting with a soft thump.

Jimin whipped around, looking confused. God, did he always bring his eyebrows together like that? He was going to start to get wrinkles.

Hoseok waved him over and patted the ground next to him. “Come, come. Drink some water with your hyung.”

Jimin watched himself smile and skip is way over next to Hoseok and dropping down next to him.”Can't stand to be away from me, huh?”

“God, so annoying,” Hoseok laughed. “You're lucky you're so cute.”

Jimin flung himself into Hoseok's lap, laughing brightly and loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. Hoseok could feel it in his chest, the waves sending warmth throughout his body.

Unlike the other vision, this one ended naturally, letting Jimin fall away, satisfied but drained.

He kept replaying what he just saw in his head. Hoseok was critical, but kind. He didn't understand why he would have expected anything less.

Jimin let out a breath as he pushed on his knee to help him stand completely. Suddenly, the weight of his body became too much for him to hold. His knee buckled, forcing him forward and back down onto both of his knees. “Ouch, god,” he groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his thighs, trying to rub out any tension left in his legs.

That was weird, he thought, his mind trying to piece together his thoughts.

But then.

“Minnie? Are you okay?” Taehyung called from the kitchen.

“Yeah!” He answered far too quickly. “Just stubbed my toe on the bed.”

He leaned over and blew out the candle, and then forced himself up and fling himself onto the bed as best as he could.

He could hear Taehyung's footsteps getting closer and closer to the door. “Do you want me to kiss it better?”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Gross. No.”

“Your loss.”

There was a pause, but eventually, the footsteps made their way from the door.

Jimin felt as if his mom had almost just walked in on himself watching porn, and he couldn't figure out why. It wasn't as if he was doing something wrong or illegal, but he couldn't help but feel as though he would be judged.

Maybe he should be, his mind provided, he is looking into people's thoughts and feelings without their permission.

Okay, so his exhausted brain was not helping him right now, but what did it know anyways.

Jimin huffed and pulled the covers over his body, not even bothering to take off his pants this time.

Besides, he tried to reason, it's not like he was going to do it again any time soon.

Chapter Text

Okay, so maybe that was a lie, but he couldn't help himself. He had overheard some classmates talking about how Daejung had a crush on him, and he just could not stop thinking about if it was true.

It was, he figured out, but now he didn't know what to do with that information.

Or any of the information.

He had done the technique a few more times outside of that, but it was never for anything outside of himself. He wasn't looking for anything cruel or insidious, he wasn't even looking for answer keys. That has to mean something, he tried to rationalize.

But there was a downside to always playing with his mirror; it completely drained him, both physically and mentally. The fatigue fed off each other and it had gotten to the point where he couldn't stop thinking about what others saw.

Like now, for instance.

The seven of them agreed to meet up at the small cafe just outside of campus since it was too early in the day to go anywhere that served alcohol. But god did Jimin wish he could have a shot right now.

I wonder what they're thinking about right now, Jimin wondered, twirling his spoon between his fingers. He vaguely acknowledged the fact that Hoseok was in the middle of one of his famous retelling of events of the week, but his mind was constantly drifting.

Am I sitting differently, Jimin thought to himself, am I giving myself away?

Why did I have to choose this outfit for today, he looked down at the fraying hem of his shirt. Do they think that I don't care about them? Should I put more effort into the way I'm dressed?

That barista keeps looking over, should I say something? Does he think we're annoying?

Should I

Should I

Should I

The spoon flew out of Jimin's hands, the sharp sound of metal clattering against the table. “Fuck,” Jimin seethed, the last nerve he had was finally snapping.

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the various noises coming from behind the counter of the shop. “Hyung?” Jungkook asked tentatively. God, Jungkook using hyung was never good. “Is everything okay?”

Jimin scanned over the table and couldn't ignore the worried looks on all of their faces. “I,” he started, but his mouth immediately went dry, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “I'm just...”

What could be the right word in this situation?

Restless? Panicked? Stressed? All of the above?

A soft spoken voice was able to break through his thoughts, summarizing them completely. “Tired?” Yoongi offered from the seat next to him. The way he said it, however, was different. It was like he knew, he understood, exactly how drained and suffocated he felt from his ever running mind.

Jimin took a deep breath, feeling just a bit lighter. “Tired...”

Namjoon gave a sympathetic smile from across the table. “You know we're here for you, right Jimin? You can tell us if there's something bothering you.”

“I know,” Jimin replied, without missing a beat.

“Do you want to go home? Maybe you should rest,” Jin offered, already making a move to grab his keys to take him back.

“No!” Jimin rushed out. “No. I want to be here with you guys, I know that. Can you guys just...keep talking? I won't say much, but I can stay. If you want me to, that is.”

“We always want you around, Jiminie!” Hoseok jumped in, a wide, genuine smile on his face. “Relax and let hyung do all the talking.”

“I think that was the plan anyways, now you just have an excuse,” Yoongi replied, earning a laugh from Jungkook and Jin (and Namjoon if you counted his failed attempt at covering his laughter with a cough).

Hoseok fake gasped. “The heterophobia..”

Taehyung made of noise of disbelief. “If you're as straight as I am ugly.”

“How can you even say such a thing you walking angel of other worldly beauty,” Hoseok gaped, and then took a pause. “Okay, you got me there.”

Jungkook hummed. “Another piece of evidence that proves heterosexuals are a government conspiracy.”

Jimin watched as the entire table burst out into boisterous laughter, the heavy air alleviating almost instantly. They were all such dumbasses, but he guesses that makes him one too, and they love him just the same.

A sigh passed his lips as he leaned back in his chair. Although he wasn't back and functioning at his one hundred percent, Jimin already felt a little better. However, he still did feel exhausted from staying up late and using the mirror.

“Hey,” Yoongi spoke to him directly, his voice soft and low.

Jimin blinked back at him. “Hm?”

“You can lean on me, if you want.” His eyes started from Jimin to his shoulder, to the group, and then back to Jimin once more. “You just seem far away over there. Plus, you know, aftercare.”

Jimin couldn't stop the wide, but tired grin from forming on his face. He didn't need to be told twice. He shifted his chair closer to the other man and wrapped his arms around his bicep, nuzzling his face into his shoulder. Yoongi was thin, yes, but that didn't stop him from being a good pillow.

Since Jimin was naturally affectionate, this action didn't catch many of the others' attention.

All except Kim Taehyung, who was looking at the two of them with his eyebrow raised.

Ah yes, the Yoongi situation.

In his attempts at scrying, there was one thing that Jimin noticed; for people who didn't hang out together much, they sure did talk about each other a lot.

There were a few times that the other has either been in the vision, or Jimin has mentioned him in the vision.

“Ah, Yoongi-ssi isn't coming?” Jimin had asked, his bottom lip puckered out in a pout.

The vision had started out with Jimin and the others getting ready at his and Taehyung's place. They were invited to a party a few apartment buildings over, and no one could say no to free booze.

No one but Yoongi, that is.

“Why?” Jin had asked, his tone playful and teasing. “Did you want him all to yourself tonight?”

Jimin watched himself try to actively ignore the blush forming over his cheeks. “No. I've just never seen him drunk before. He's so quiet; I bet he gets loud and talkative. It'll be funny.”

Another time, when Jimin was once again looking through Namjoon's perception, he heard them talk about him.

“Pretty,” Yoongi had said from the other chair in the recording studio. “His voice, it's pretty.”

'He's ridiculous' Namjoon wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained. “You know, hyung, you can say he's pretty,” he said casually, his eyes trained on Jimin behind the recording booth glass. “You like guys, you have eyes, it would be weird if you didn't think he was pretty.”

Yoongi huffed and leaned forward on the recording table. “Yeah, okay, he's pretty. What about it?”

It had caused Jimin's heart to flutter, a warm spot in the center of his stomach which he was almost positive wasn't Namjoon's.

Jimin hadn't told Taehyung about his scrying adventures, but he did bring up Yoongi every now and then. But who could blame him? He and Yoongi were just two dudes, who were both into dudes, and Yoongi was cute; hot, even. Jimin could talk about hot guys, even if they were hot guys he was friends with.

But now, with Jimin's head on Yoongi's shoulder, he could feel the warm spot in his stomach grow larger and warmer. And frankly, he didn't enjoy the almost-judgmental look he was getting from his roommate. In response, Jimin, being the grown man that he is, turned his head so that he was completely buried in Yoongi's shoulder.

Take that, Kim Taehyung.

'I wonder why Jimin has been off lately' Yoongi pondered, looking at the resting form on his shoulder.

After the incident at the cafe, they all decided to head back to Hoseok and Yoongi's apartment for some more quality time together. It was obvious that everyone was a concerned about Jimin's small out burst, but they had left the decision up to Jimin on whether or not he wanted to come with them.

Of course, he said yes.

'Probably an anxiety attack,' Yoongi concluded, 'it's getting closer to midterms, so it's not that unusual.'

Jimin hadn't even noticed.

When Jimin chose to scry this time, he was very particular in what he wanted. He wanted to know what he looked like in Yoongi's eyes.

Yes he knew they were both into guys.

Yes he knew they were both attractive.

But Jimin still didn't know.

He had to know.

Jimin tried to stay as impartial as possible, to just observe the interactions and not let his emotions take him out of the vision, but it was hard.

He could feel Yoongi's heart beat and how it would skyrocket every time Jimin moved. Behind each moment, there was the feeling of anticipation, of what, he wasn't quite sure. The thought never fully formed enough for either Yoongi or Jimin to grab onto.

“I can't believe they're this dumb,” Yoongi heard Jimin mutter, his focus drawn to Namjoon and Jungkook across the room.

He and Jungkook were curled up on the floor, looking over each others' shoulders to look at instagram posts on their phones. Although Namjoon looked completely neutral, Yoongi knew his friend enough to be sure that he was freaking out inside. He could see the slight shake in his hand whenever he pointed at some inaccuracy on a person's post, or how his leg bounced from underneath himself.

Jungkook was a little more obvious. He was much more giggly and frigidity than he usually was. It was cute, but still...

“I can believe it.”

Jimin heard himself give an ugly snort, but instead of feeling embarrassed, he felt giddy.

'Oh god that was so cute,' Yoongi though, even his internal dialogue sounded pained.

“Isn't Namjoon smart? Shouldn't he have, like, at least ten times more braincells that Kook?”

“Ten times zero is still zero,” Yoongi pointed out, hoping to earn another adorable snort.

He got a giggle instead, but the fluttering in his heart told Jimin that it must have been good enough for Yoongi. “I mean, you're right, but should you say it?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I think so.”

This earned him another bout of giggles, which then led Jimin to sit up and face him.

'Oh fuck,' Yoongi sucked in a short, harsh breath as he looked at the tired, but happy Jimin in front of him.

Jimin had wanted to start picking his image apart; talk about how his hair was out of place, how his eyes and cheeks were puffy from lack of sleep, but he couldn't. He could feel how Yoongi saw him in that moment, as if he were the most precious thing to walk on this earth, and he couldn't bring himself to be that ruthless.

After Yoongi's internal dialogue of 'how is he so cute' and 'I want to squish his cheeks,' he was quick to follow Jimin's line of sight. 'Wait,' he paused, 'did he just look at my lips?'

Jimin watched in what can only be described as horror as Yoongi noticed how his eyes had wandered down to look (read: stare) at the other man's lips.

“Jimin...” Yoongi tried, much too soft and constricted for Jimin to hear.

'Maybe if I learn in a little...'

“Jimin,” he tried again, a little bit louder.

Jimin could hear his heartbeat in his ears, could feel the adrenaline pump through his veins as he leaned in closer.

“Jimin.”

“Jimin!”

Jimin was forcibly yanked from the vision by Taehyung's call for his attention. However, by forcing him out of his trance-like state, Jimin startled forward, as he was already starting to lean, and smashed his forehead against the mirror.

Jimin could hear the shattering of glass, but his attention was mostly drawn to the splitting pain in the middle of his skull.

“Ouch, fuck,” he hissed, immediately putting his hands over the spot he hit, and falling back against the floor.

Whatever Taehyung had wanted was ultimately forgotten as he came running over, worry etched onto his features. He got onto his knees next to Jimin, his hands hovering over his face, trying to decide what to do next. “Oh my god, Jimin are you okay! Are you bleeding?” His eyes darted everywhere, looking for something to cover up a wound.

“I don't think so,” Jimin whined, pulling his hand away to reveal no blood at all. “See, no blood.” He held out his hands to his friends could see.

“Good,” Taehyung sighed, relieved. “Good...”

The moment was short lived. Once Taehyung knew he was okay, his onslaught of smacking began. Jimin shrieked, bringing his arms over his face to protect it.

He almost got it damaged once, he won't let it get that close again.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jimin shouted, trying to shimmy away from the abuse.

“What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you!” Taehyung paused his barrage of hands long enough for Jimin to get out from under him, inching away. “I come in here and you're chanting and zoning out and almost making out with your mirror in candle light! I know you're lonely, Jimin, but this isn't the answer!”

The mirror. He had forgotten about the mirror.

He drew in a sharp breath and turned around to find the entire floor length mirror in it had a crack in it. The imperfections made every thing reflected in it appear warped and distorted. “No,” Jimin breathed out, crawling over to the glass to touch the crack. He didn't even react to Taehyung's 'don't touch that, it's dangerous.'

“How am I supposed to use this now?”

Jimin looked up into the mirror but could only see Taehyung's strange, contorted face. “We have other mirrors in the place, Jimin.”

The boy shook his head, placing both hands on the object. “You don't understand, I need this one.”

Taehyung looked up to the mirror, his expression changing into something unreadable.

Jimin hated it. He could always read Taehyung, no matter what.

“Jimin,” his friend started slowly, “what were you doing.”

It didn't sound like he was being given the option to hold anything back, and he could never lie to Taehyung. “I just,” he started, going to push himself up onto his feet.

But, like before, his legs gave out from under him.

Jimin's breath stilled, his entire body tensing for impact.

But it never came.

The only thing he felt was Taehyung's arm wrap firmly around his middle.

He didn't have to look at his friend to know that his steely gaze was now fixed and unwavering, and it was all directed at him. “Tell me what's going on.”

And so he did.

Once they lied down in Jimin's bed, curled up in each other, Jimin told him everything. He started with the day that the girl had come up to him and Hoseok in their dance class, how he had almost burned the apartment down, how much he had cried over Namjoon, and even about Yoongi.

“The thing is, with Yoongi, I don't know how I feel. Like, do I actually have feelings for him? Or do I just like how I feel when he gives me attention? Because you can't do that to a person, you know?”

Taehyung was silent, undoubtedly trying to absorb all of what Jimin had told him. “So let me get this straight. You were able to look at how people see you, look into the past, were able to feel how others felt, and you're worried about a boy?”

Jimin flinched, tightening his arms around each other. “Well, when you put it that way..”

Taehyung gave a big, deep sighed. “I think you should apologize. These were people's thoughts and feelings, and they didn't tell you that you could know them. Well, the majority of them.” Jimin nodded along, his head low. “After you figure all of that out, I think then you can work on your boy issues.”

Jimin shifted and curled himself into Taehyung's side, hoping that he would still accept him with open arms. He did. “You're right,” he mumbled, burying himself in the warmth.

“I usually am.”

He made a noncommittal noise.

“That being said...” he tapered off, his eyes wandering to the mirror. “Do you see anything about if Hobi thinks I'm cute?”

“I'm going to smother you with the pillow.”

Jimin did, eventually, get around to talking to everyone individually. Most people, like Namjoon and Hoseok, were understanding. They thought it was weird in generally, but they couldn't really blame him. Others, however, like Daejung, avoided him like the plague.

Jimin couldn't find it in him to be upset by their reaction, he understood where they were coming from. All too well, in Daejung's case.

He went as long as he could without telling Yoongi everything that happened, but he couldn't avoid it any longer. He had sent the other a text, telling him to meet him at Jimin's place, and that it was very important.

Like he had with Taehyung, Jimin told Yoongi everything, and that meant telling him about his vision through Yoongi's eyes.

“So, you heard my thoughts?” Yoongi asked, the apples of his cheeks turning a rosy red.

Jimin hung his head and nodded. “I did. I'm really sorry, Yoongi hyung. I just got...so wrapped up in everything that I didn't even think about what it could mean for everyone else.”

Yoongi sucked in his bottom lip, biting thoughtfully. “And you weren't freaked out or anything?”

“What? No! I could never be freaked out by you, hyung. Plus, I've been thinking and–“ Jimin choked, cutting himself off from saying anything more.

But Yoongi, being the man that he is, couldn't let it go. “And what, Jimin?”

“I think,” he fiddled with the rings on his finger, spinning them back and forth, staring intensely at them. “I was having trouble deciding if my...feelings were coming from a genuine place. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how I always, um, thought you were cute and funny and, uh, yeah, so it really didn't have anything to do with the visions.”

He could feel Yoongi's eyes bore into him without even having to look up to see him. “So if I asked you out, you would say yes?”

Jimin's head snapped up, his eyes wide. “You'd still want to out with me? After this?

Yoongi nodded, certain. “Maybe our fourth date could be that crying session.”

“It's scrying, hyung.”

“I know what I said.”

A wide grin split over Yoongi's lips, and Jimin couldn't help but do the same. “It's a date, then.”

“It's a date.”