Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hyung,” Jungkook said. He was probably aiming for pleading but came much closer to whining.

“No,” Namjoon said.

“But hyung--”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hyuuung!”

Namjoon stuck a nearby receipt in his book, closed it, and gave Jungkook his full attention. “I don’t know why you want me to come onto your show just to tell you you’re wrong.”

He winced at how it sounded, but Jungkook just laughed.

They were in Namjoon’s living room, Namjoon in his favorite chair next to a stack of books almost tall enough to make their own end table, and Jungkook on the long brown couch across from him, lying draped across it with his head dangling down over the edge. If Namjoon tried that, he would have fallen off the couch, but Jeon Jungkook would never do anything so silly. If Jungkook fell, he did it on purpose, and he did it with a grace Namjoon could never have.

Not that Namjoon watched Jungkook a lot. Not more than he should. Not more than a friend would.

So Namjoon took only a normal amount of notice when Jungkook pushed himself up onto his elbows, the move shifting his hoodie and T-shirt so that a strip of tanned skin flashed briefly, and instead concentrated on what Jungkook was saying.

(No, he didn’t.)

“Sorry, what?”

“I need a good straight man.” Namjoon shot him an incredulous look and Jungkook laughed. “Not that kind of straight man.”

“Thank goodness.”

“But really. I feel like lately I've just been putting my theories out there and following up by arguing in my comment section. It's not good content. The people aren't getting what they came for.”

“They come for a breakdown of your supernatural theories.” And your pecs, Namjoon didn't add. Jungkook had to know; Namjoon worked out with him. Jungkook knew what he looked like.

He shook off the thought of Jungkook shirtless and focused on the fully clothed version in front of him, saying, “They come for an honest discussion of the issues. And they're only getting one side of that.”

“And the other side is--”

Jungkook pointed at Namjoon.

“I don’t get it,” Namjoon said, even though he kind of did. “I don’t want to come on your show and be mean to you.”

“You could never!”

“Not on purpose, just--”

Jungkook pushed himself all the way up and leaned forward, eyes intent. “I think you could be great, hyung. I think we could be great together.”

Namjoon was weak. He didn’t know what his face was doing, but it made Jungkook light up.

“Just one episode! Just one. An experiment. If you hate it, if the audience hates it, I’ll take it down and you’ll never hear about it again.”

Namjoon was so weak.

***

Namjoon had seen Jungkook’s filming setup before; it was Jungkook’s walk-in closet, actually (Jungkook’s clothes were in shelves lining his bedroom walls, making his bedroom look just a little like a department store fitting room, but Namjoon would never tell him that.) The room fit a video camera, some lighting, Jungkook’s chair, and a corkboard he used to display his evidence (“evidence”).

Namjoon sat gingerly in the kitchen chair Jungkook had somehow jammed into this setup, trying not to block the corkboard too much. He felt very tall and very wide and very in the way.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, settling into his own chair. He’d tried to convince Namjoon to sit there - it was a much nicer gamer’s chair, which made sense since he was recording and editing from it all day - but Namjoon had flatly refused. He couldn’t say no to Jungkook much, but he could at least save him some - he shifted in the chair - some discomfort. The shift made him more conscious of Jungkook’s thigh, warm and firm, crowding into his own.

“Okay,” Namjoon parroted back, trying not to move.

“I’m going to turn the camera on, and keep in mind that I can edit out whatever I want, so say--say whatever.” Jungkook spread his hands wide. “Just be yourself, hyung. That’s why you’re here.”

Namjoon thought of a couple of responses, but stuffed them down as Jungkook turned the camera on and fussed with whatever settings he needed to. He sat back and gave it a bright smile. “Welcome back! Or welcome, if you’re new here. I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m your source for all things mythological. Real? Not real? That’s what we explore on this channel. And today I have help in my exploration!” He waved a hand to Namjoon, who jumped slightly in his chair. “My friend Kim Namjoon is here. He doesn’t believe in all this, and is here to rein me in if I go too far, and to bring up the other side of the story.”

“Hi,” Namjoon said awkwardly, waving at the camera. “I do believe in some things.”

“Do you believe in the Seocheon Flower Garden?” Jungkook asked.

Namjoon turned to stare at Jungkook. “Do I believe in a garden that grows flowers capable of bringing people back from the dead?”

“They do other things!” Jungkook said cheerfully.

“Absolutely not,” said Namjoon.

“But what if--” and they were off, Jungkook cheerfully espousing theories and Namjoon shooting them down with prejudice, as always.

What seemed like five minutes later, Namjoon sat back from a particularly good riposte (if he did say so himself) and watched Jungkook check his watch and laugh. “What?”

“It’s been two hours!”

Namjoon checked his own watch. “Huh.” Admittedly, it wasn’t atypical of them to go on and on, but Namjoon hadn’t been self-conscious once.

Jungkook turned back and smiled at the camera. “If you enjoyed this new format with my sidekick Namjoon hyung--”

“Hey,” Namjoon interjected.

“--then leave a comment, and don’t forget to like,” Jungkook made an exaggerated thumbs up, “and subscribe,” pointing a finger down. “See you next time!”

He leaned forward and clicked the camera off, then turned to Namjoon, bouncing in his seat.

Namjoon watched the bouncing with bemusement. Now that the animated discussion was over, he was starting to feel a bit worn-down, but not Jungkook.

“That went well!” Jungkook said.

“Did it?”

“Trust me.” Jungkook gave Namjoon another exaggerated thumbs-up; Namjoon laughed. “I have a good feeling for these things.”

“Sounds good. Do you need me to do anything else?”

“Nope! I’ll get the edits done in the next few days and slot it into the release queue, and we’ll see how it goes.”

“Great,” Namjoon said.

***

Namjoon got his regular notification for Jungkook’s channel a week or so later, and flinched to see himself onscreen, arguing happily with Jungkook. He turned it off and vowed not to look at the hit count or the comments; the vow lasted all of a day before he slunk back.

The episode did well. It did really well. It wasn't doing the numbers of any show where Jungkook went shirtless/got wet (why did Namjoon know that?), but it was up there with some of the other popular ones. And the comments were mostly favorable.

(Namjoon learned very quickly not to click on any comment thread with the word “namkook” in it. He didn't need that in his head. No thank you.)

So when Jungkook showed back up at his door/on his couch with a pleading pout and a “Hyuuung,” Namjoon wasn't surprised.

The Seocheon Flower Garden actually got them through another three videos. “Kook-ah,” Namjoon said, exasperated, partway through the last one, “if you have to die to get there, how is the story of it getting back to--to--”

“To our world?”

Namjoon made a sound in his throat that prompted Jungkook to make one of Namjoon’s favorite faces, almost holding his breath as he tried to hold back laughter and clearly failing.

“There's always a way, hyung.”

“Mythology rules don't make sense.”

“If people here on this plane of existence don’t make sense, and you know they don't, why would spirits or forces from another plane or visitors from the afterlife always follow rules that make sense to us?” Jungkook asked.

Namjoon stopped short. “That’s…I..huh.”

Jungkook looked delighted to have made his point. There was probably a good comeback in there somewhere about the laws of physics staying the same, but…

Also, Jungkook looked. He looked good like that. Namjoon said nothing.

They continued on, and Namjoon was slightly relieved when they wrapped up. He rubbed the back of his sweaty neck.

Jungkook wrapped up and turned the camera off. “I like how you look when you're mad at me,” he said, and turned away to fuss with a camera setting.

“What?”

“You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes and it's intimidating in the good way.”

“What?” Namjoon asked again.

“Never mind.” Jungkook’s ears were red but his smile was easy. “Dinner?”

***

One topic blended into the next into the next. Namjoon found himself adding more mythology and supernatural books into his reading list, in order to try and catch up to Jungkook's amazing breadth of knowledge.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he had been afraid that arguing on a semi-weekly basis with one of his closest friends might damage their relationship; he’d been prepared to bail at the slightest hint of it. But more time, more friendly debate, more shared laughter had all proven to be nothing but good for Namjoon, and, he thought, for Jungkook.

And it didn’t hurt that they had developed a tradition of ordering in after “show days,” sitting on the floor on opposite sides of Jungkook’s coffee table and devouring takeout. Namjoon always insisted on paying as the hyung and Jungkook insisted on paying since he was “taking advantage” of Namjoon. Sometimes Namjoon let Jungkook win just because his victory dance was adorable.

“I have an idea,” Jungkook said through a mouthful of chicken one night. “Don’t say no--”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“But I want to start taking field trips.”

“Supernatural field trips? To museums or something?”

“Like the Korean Folk Village.”

Namjoon squinted, trying to remember the layout from his school trips there. “Have they added a section on the supernatural?”

“It’s supposed to be haunted!”

“It’s a tourist attraction,” Namjoon said.

“Yeah, but they moved real houses there.” Jungkook had ditched his chicken and plastic gloves and was poking at his phone. “They say that gwishin came with the homes, and you can see them sometimes--”

“Jungkook.”

“Look!” Jungkook shoved his phone in Namjoon’s face.

“That’s a Reddit page,” Namjoon said.

“It's a first-hand acc--never mind.” Jungkook waved a hand. “We can save all that for an episode. The point is, I want to go check it out.”

Namjoon squinted. “At night?”

“Obviously.”

“Like, after it closes?”

“Don't worry,” Jungkook said with all the aplomb of someone who should definitely be worrying. “I know a guy.”

“No you don't.”

“I might know a guy!”

“No you might not.”

“I’ll prove it to you. Will that make you happy?”

“Delirious,” Namjoon said flatly.

Jungkook started to talk again, but Namjoon stared him down.

There was a long pause.

“Come on,” Jungkook said, eyes wide and bright. “If you’re right, what’s even going to happen? We go, we sneak around after dark a bit, you make fun of me on camera, and I buy you samgyeopsal. Lots of samgyeopsal.”

“That’s just because it’s your favorite,” Namjoon said, which was a losing argument and he knew it. From the brilliant smile Jungkook sent him, he knew it too.

***

Jungkook met him at one end of the Bazaar. It was late in the day, but the vendors were still out and active. Jungkook had a tornado potato in one hand; Namjoon wasn’t sure exactly how historical that dish was, but Jungkook was eating it with relish so he didn’t say anything.

“Okay, where’s your guy?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook gestured dramatically to one side.

“...Yoongi hyung?” Namjoon asked.

“Yoongi hyung!” Jungkook said. His nose scrunched up in his most delighted smile.

Namjoon averted his eyes and tried to keep to the point. “Jungkook,” he said with what he felt was a great deal of patience. “‘Having a guy’ doesn’t count if it’s a guy we already all knew.”

“But you didn’t know he…” Jungkook leaned in and lowered his voice, “did a bunch of carpentry for them, and has a key to the gate because they have him installing things after hours.”

“So we're going to get Yoongi fired?” Namjoon asked incredulously.

Yoongi shrugged. “I got paid already. And I like JK’s channel.” He grinned. “You arguing with him is pretty damn funny.”

“I need better friends,” Namjoon said to nobody in particular.

“Aww, hyung!” Jungkook wound his long arms around Namjoon from behind, pulling him into an off-balance hug. He waved Yoongi over. Yoongi, of course, rolled his eyes and stayed put.

Namjoon let out a gusty sigh. “Fine, what's the plan?”

“You'll hate this,” Jungkook told him cheerfully.

***

Namjoon hated this. He said so at length, trying to keep his volume down, to both of them.

And yet there he was, locked in a bathroom stall with Jungkook while an “out of order” sign hung on the door and people shuffled in and out just on the other side. Jungkook was singing to himself, barely audible, as he twirled the key to the side gate around in his fingers.

The bathroom mostly smelled like disinfectant, but if Namjoon leaned close enough he could catch a whiff of Jungkook’s cologne - something spicy and warm. He chased after the scent, and then jerked back when his nose met Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook looked as startled as Namjoon felt. He hummed an inquiry; Namjoon shook his head and waved his hand. He focused on carefully shrugging off his jacket, trying not to bump anything in the small space. In front of him, Jungkook stuffed the key into one of the many pockets of his cargo pants - hopefully he would remember which one at the end of all this - and pulled his small camera from a different pocket to fiddle with something on it, not meeting Namjoon’s eyes.

Namjoon really hated this.

He dug his phone out from the pocket of his jeans and pretended to read something on it, instead of sighing over Jungkook (externally). Slowly, slowly, the traffic in the room outside slowed. He registered the announcement of the Village closing, dimly heard from a loudspeaker somewhere outside. There was a last rush to the bathroom, and then another announcement, and then silence.

Namjoon shifted on his feet, but Jungkook shook his head. “The staff is still here closing up,” he said, slightly louder than before.

Namjoon let his head thunk back onto the wall behind him.

A small eternity later, Jungkook turned the lock on the stall and led them out. They pulled on their jackets and shuffled to the door, Namjoon almost on top of Jungkook, and then Jungkook stuck his head outside. Namjoon chewed the side of his mouth, straining to catch any noise.

Jungkook turned back, eyes bright. “Dead silent out there.”

“Don’t say dead,” Namjoon muttered.

Jungkook grinned and stepped out into the dark.

They were in the part of the Folk Village set up to look like a small, well…village, as historically as possible. No games or rides or food stands, just an outdoor area, then a collection of “official” buildings (Namjoon shivered as they passed the jail, bars just visible in the light from Jungkook’s camera), then residences. There was one larger hanok, and farther along, smaller choga with thatched roofs.

Jungkook kept up a running narration, occasionally swiveling the camera to take in Namjoon's reaction.

Namjoon didn't look at it, mostly concentrating on looking chill when the whole place had started giving him the creeps. The shadows seemed deeper than they should, even in the inconsistent light that only really illuminated the main walkways. And he kept hearing things, although Jungkook never paused in his conversation with the camera.

Without realizing it, he started following Jungkook closer and closer, until Jungkook stopped in front of one of the choga and Namjoon bumped into him, sending the camera flying.

“Shit, shit, I'm sorry,” Namjoon blurted, catching himself by grabbing the back of Jungkook's jacket.

“It's okay,” Jungkook said. He turned his head; their noses almost bumped. “This place is really getting to you, isn't it?”

“Isn't that what you wanted?” Namjoon shot back, and Jungkook dropped his eyes.

“Not like this. I'll just get my camera, and we’ll--”

He stopped mid crouch, his hand still outstretched towards the camera.

“What?” Namjoon asked.

“Did you hear that?”

“No.” The hair on the back of Namjoon's neck stood up. “Yes.”

The sound got louder, turning from a buzz to a rumble to a long, continuous growl.

Jungkook stood, abandoning the camera, and Namjoon fisted one hand in the back of his jacket. They both turned to face the sound.

The first thing Namjoon saw was the tall figure in hanbok. But not, like, modern hanbok; Joseon era, and not the recent edge of it either. The black gat stood tall on his head, the brim leaving his face in shadow except for his bright eyes.

Too bright.

And from behind it…Namjoon shoved Jungkook behind him, or tried, but Jungkook was trying to push Namjoon behind him, so they mostly just jostled each other back and forth.

A giant tiger stalked forward to stand next to the…the…whatever the person-shaped thing was. It came to the figure’s waist. It stopped growling long enough to yawn, giving Namjoon and Jungkook a terrifying look at its teeth.

“It’s a changgwi,” Jungkook breathed. “The tiger killed it and trapped its ghost here as its servant. Now it needs the tiger to kill someone else so they can take its place.”

“What the fuck,” Namjoon whispered back.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think--”

Namjoon realized that Jungkook’s hands were shaking. He grabbed for one and held on tightly; Jungkook grabbed back just as tightly. “It’s okay,” Namjoon whispered. “Just run, okay? I’ll--”

“No, not without you--”

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Jungkook spun around, and Namjoon carefully took his gaze from the glowing-eyed figure and the tiger and turned to see a man. Well, probably a man. Who knew who or what anyone was tonight?

The man (or whatever) stood a few centimeters shorter than Namjoon. He had a round face with a startlingly friendly expression, given the sharp question he’d just asked. He wore a modern outfit - tight jeans, a black leather jacket, and boots with a wicked heel - contrasting sharply to the motherfucking sword he carried at his side.

The glowing motherfucking sword.

Namjoon wondered briefly if he’d hit his head somewhere along the line, and this was all a concussed hallucination.

“Oh, my God,” Jungkook said “You look like…”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“Holy shit. Are you Park Jimin?”

“Wait, the idol?” Namjoon asked. He tried to focus.

The man gave them a bright, photoshoot-ready smile and a finger heart. “Idol by day, demon hunter by night,” he said as if it were a simple fact and not one of the weirdest things that had happened yet during this weird night. “And you?”

“Uh, Jeon Jungkook. I have…a YouTube channel?”

“I’m his friend,” Namjoon said.

Jimin’s eyes dropped to their tightly held hands and back up. “I see.”

Namjoon wondered what exactly he saw.

“If you--” Jungkook’s jaw dropped. “Does that mean J-Hope is a demon hunter too?”

Jimin smirked but didn’t answer.

“Isn't anyone going to ask who I am?”

Namjoon turned back around. Jungkook's head wavered back and forth, eyeing both entities in turn.

“Nobody's going to ask, because you're being a dick,” Jimin said, sounding bored.

Namjoon briefly caught Jungkook's eye and they exchanged matching baffled expressions.

“Kim Seokjin,” it--he--Kim Seokjin said. He took a step forward and bowed; Namjoon scuttled back half a step, dragging Jungkook with him. “Please call me Jin.”

The tiger made a low vocalization that wasn't quite a growl. It trotted around Namjoon and Jungkook and walked up to Jimin. To Namjoon's absolute shock, it bumped Park Jimin in the hip with its nose, exactly like a housecat.

Jimin laughed and dropped a head to scratch behind the tiger’s ear. “You forgot to introduce your tiger, Jin-ssi.”

“Taehyung needs no introduction,” Jin said smoothly, “and I've told you to call me hyung, Jimin-ah. I am your elder.”

“By four hundred years, ahjussi.”

“Rude!” Jin protested.

“Wait,” Jungkook asked. “If you’re a demon hunter, does that make, uh, him--” His finger wavered in Jin’s direction--”a demon? Not a ghost?”

Jin’s eyes blazed bright with outrage. “What do you take me for?”

“A ghost, obviously,” Jimin said. “I think--hey, Taehyung, stop.”

Taehyung had Jimin’s jacket sleeve in his teeth - gently - and was tugging him forward.

“Do you know what that jacket cost me?”

Taehyung warbled around his mouthful of leather.

“Tae-tae, we’ve talked about this,” Jin said. Namjoon snuck a look back at Jin, who was standing, one hand on his hip, looking less like a demon and more like a disgruntled cat owner. “Leave the nice demon hunter alone.”

“I’m not a nice demon hunter, Kim Seokjin,” Jimin snapped, letting Taehyung tow him over until he was standing right next to Jin. Namjoon and Jungkook both turned to face them. Namjoon relaxed his death grip on Jungkook’s hand, but didn’t let go.

“Looks like we have some baby demon hunters here, Jimin-ah. Some hunter hatchlings.” Jin stopped to laugh at his own remark, then continued, “Are you going to train them up so they can be big strong demon hunters like you?”

“Is that a height joke?”

“Well, it wasn’t...” Jin said.

Namjoon wasn’t sure what he expected the man with the giant sword to do, but Jimin just rolled his eyes. “They’re not demon hunters.”

“I mean--” Jungkook started. Namjoon elbowed him hard.

“I think they are,” Jin said. “And now you've found me, baby demon hunters. What are you going to do with me?”

“Jin hy--” Jimin tried to interrupt.

“Are you going to catch me?”

“Hyung--”

“Are you going to exorcise me?” Jin’s eyes were glowing an even brighter yellow, and his voice was resonating in an inhuman way. Taehyung turned away from Jimin to look at Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon’s breath caught painfully in his chest. “Are you going to do what Park Jimin can’t, and destroy me?”

“Kim Seokjin!” Jimin shouted.

Jin startled, the glow in his eyes dimming a little, and turned to face Jimin.

“Nobody is destroying anyone,” Jimin said through gritted teeth. Taehyung was circling him, tail lashing, a low rumble in his throat as he cut through the space between Jimin and Jin. “They have a YouTube channel. Come on.”

“You're too soft, Park Jimin.”

Namjoon let out a quiet scoff. The man had a sword. And he looked close to using it, too.

Taehyung came up behind Jimin and bumped him hard with his nose. Jimin let out an un-demon-huntery squawk and fell into Jin.

Jin caught Jimin as he stumbled. “Taehyung!” he snapped.

Taehyung sat on his haunches and started licking one massive paw, ignoring everyone.

Namjoon exchanged a confused look with Jungkook.

Jin sighed and looked down at Jimin. “You're too soft, Jimin-ah,” he repeated, but there was no edge to his voice this time.

Jimin settled himself upright but remained pressed up against Jin’s side. “I have a sword, hyung.”

“And yet,” Jin said, and didn't bother to finish the sentence.

Namjoon held his breath as the demon and the demon hunter had some sort of silent conversation he couldn’t follow.

Then Jin looked over. “Go home, baby demon hunters.”

Namjoon thought about protesting yet again that he wasn’t - that they weren’t - but then Jungkook was tugging him away, hand tight around Namjoon’s, and he stumbled after him. He looked back one more time to see Jimin and Jin arguing about something, inaudible, while Taehyung curled up in a semicircle around their feet and rested his chin on his paws.

“Hyung!” Jungkook whispered, and Namjoon turned away.

Jungkook dragged Namjoon what felt like the length of the Korean Folk Village and stopped at a door clearly designed to look as “historical” as possible. There was a heart-stopping few seconds while Jungkook dug into his cargo pants, but he found Yoongi’s key and Namjoon heaved a sigh of relief. The key turned in the lock easily, and the two of them tumbled out into a little clearing with garbage bins and what looked like spare haystacks.

Jungkook headed for one of them. He still hadn’t let go of Namjoon, and Namjoon had no intention of letting go of him, so they ended up squished together, sweaty palms pressed together, breathing a little quickly as the night settled around them. Namjoon could hear cars going by near them, faintly, but nothing else.

“So that happened,” Jungkook said finally.

“Did it?” Namjoon shook his head. “It already seems surreal.” He thought about sitting opposite Jungkook in his closet, arguing against the possibility of--of all this. He couldn’t quite imagine it.

Jungkook let out a bark of laughter and rubbed his hand over his face. “I can't even prove it. My camera is still on the ground.”

Namjoon grabbed Jungkook's shoulder with his free hand. “You're not going back after it.”

Jungkook turned to face him. “I won't. I promise.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Jungkook's eyes were wide and bright, Namjoon thought. And then he didn't think anything because Jungkook was leaning forward, and Namjoon met him halfway.

Their lips met tentatively, then with more confidence, and Namjoon dared to let go of Jungkook's hand to grab Jungkook's shoulders and pull him closer. Jungkook came willingly.

Namjoon wasn't sure how long they sat there kissing, but Jungkook finally pulled away, smiling brilliantly, and said, “There are probably better places to do this than somewhere with a demon on the other side of the wall.”

“That is a very good point,” Namjoon said, still slightly dazed. “Any suggestions?”

Jungkook stood, took Namjoon's hand again, and tugged him up. “I can think of a few.”

***

“My camera,” Jungkook said excitedly as Namjoon walked through the door.

“What happened to ‘hi, hyung, how are you?’” Namjoon asked, holding back a laugh. “Or a kiss hello?”

Jungkook pulled Namjoon close for a brief but thorough kiss. Namjoon made a little sound of protest as Jungkook pulled away; he was still getting used to the idea that he could kiss Jungkook any time he wanted. But Jungkook, oblivious to Namjoon’s pout, excitedly waved a familiar device in Namjoon’s face.

“Look! They gave me my camera back!”

“The Korean Folk Village?” Namjoon asked, confused, even as he reached for Jungkook again.

“No,” Jungkook said, stopping to let Namjoon pull him in for another quick kiss before holding out a piece of paper. “It came with a note, see?”

Namjoon took it from him, noting the elegant stationary with a stylized tiger in the corner. “For all your baby demon hunter excursions,” he read.

“How cool is that? There wasn’t anything on the camera after the point where I dropped it, but still. But still!”

“Jungkook-ah?” Namjoon asked.

“Hm?” Jungkook took the note back from Namjoon and turned it in the light. The ink glimmered as the paper shifted.

“How did they know what address to send it to?”