#hello it's more plot

Cool air falls over Jungkook and makes him shiver. If Namjoon looked at Jimin’s neck he certainly didn’t say anything about the obvious hickeys, so Jungkook just straightens his back and pretends that is definitely the case.

Taehyung, who is leaning on Jin for support, giggles. “Have you gone off kissing other men?” He grins but Jungkook doesn’t return it. Instead, he stupidly stays silent, and Taehyung pouts. “That’s so rude,” he continues, “I thought what we shared was special.”

Jin looks down at his friend with furrowed brows. “What?” He starts to ask, but Jungkook just clears his throat.

“He’s drunk, he’s just talking about—” But Jungkook doesn’t finish.

Beside him, Jimin collapses to the ground, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Thankfully Jungkook catches him just before his skull gets too familiar with the pavement, but he’s dead weight in Jungkook’s grip. His chest is rising and falling irregularly, as if it’s a struggle to breathe. Jungkook recognises the clammy sweat that’s building on Jimin’s skin, and panic is settling in the back of his throat.

“Sheesh, and I thought Taehyung drank too much,” Jin laughs, blissfully unaware of what was really happening to Jimin.

“He needs water,” Taehyung slurs, ignoring Jin’s comment, and Jungkook has to physically hold back telling him he has no idea.

In the end, Yoongi is the one who discreetly helps Jungkook. He sobered up quickly (unlike Hoseok) and could see in Jungkook’s eyes that something siren-y was happening to Jimin. They took a separate cab home, and Yoongi presses a napkin with cool water soaked up on Jimin’s forehead. He sputters out a breath, but doesn’t regain full consciousness yet. Jungkook swallows hard.

“What’s happening?” Yoongi whispers so the cabbie can’t hear them.

Jungkook shakes his head. “I mean, it’s possible because he hasn’t had alcohol in years, but something tells me there’s more.”

Lips pressed into a thing line Yoongi asks, “What do you mean?”

“This happens sometimes, where Jimin gets his tail back without warning,” Jungkook explains, “It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does he looks like… This. Like he’s a fish out of water.”

Yoongi chuckles, wiping at Jimin’s brow. “I mean, isn’t that the case?” Jungkook doesn’t answer.

Despite Jungkook insisting that he could take care of Jimin fine on his own, Yoongi had stubbornly stayed at his side. He had kept a watch on Jimin as Jungkook started the water for the tub, and while it was filling he saunters back into the living room where Jimin is laid on the couch. His breathing has become slightly more even since Yoongi had given him a sip of water, but Jimin still didn’t stir beyond shuddering breaths and tiny gasps. When the tub is sufficiently full, Jungkook cradles Jimin princess style to the bathroom. 

He stops just before putting Jimin in when he realises he’s still fully dressed. The jeans he’s wearing are too nice to let a tail rip through them, so Jungkook sets Jimin softly on the toilet, confidently meaning to take Jimin’s jeans off. Only he wasn’t confident, and kneels down, staring at Jimin’s abdomen with bated breath. Sure, he had almost fucked the man in a club of all places, but he was overrun with whatever “spell” he was under, and now he was just sitting in front of an unconscious Jimin, completely vulnerable. What would he think if he woke up to Jungkook pulling down his pants? He shudders at the thought.

“You know, leaving him slumped on the shitter isn’t going to do him any favours.” Jungkook whips his head so hard it cracks slightly, and sees Yoongi standing in the doorway, arms crossed. He gives a curt nod towards Jimin. “Go ahead and toss him in, yeah?” Yoongi actually sounds concerned, and it’s a bit endearing.

What wasn’t endearing, though, was the prospect of peeling off clothes from an unconscious man. “It’s uh, it’s his jeans,” Jungkook mumbles.

Yoongi squints his eyes. “So?”

“So,” Jungkook swallows, “He really likes these ones, I don’t want them to get ruined by his uh… Tail.”

When Yoongi laughs, Jungkook tries not to be offended. “Alright? So take them off, then.” A flush no doubt creeps up Jungkook’s neck, one obvious enough that Yoongi sees it because he’s sighing and walking towards Jimin saying, “Move aside lover boy, I’ll do it.” 

For some reason the thought of someone else touching Jimin gives way to anger building in his throat. He bites down lightly on his lower lip and tries his best to quell the shakes he’s getting from it. He knows he’s being ridiculous, especially when Yoongi nudges him with his foot, probably saying something vaguely threatening and offensive, but Jungkook can’t hear it behind the thundering in his head. “Right, okay,” he forces himself to say, forces himself to stand, letting Yoongi lean over Jimin as he goes to fiddle with Jimin’s pant line. Jungkook tries his best to keep his breathing even, but it probably isn’t working as well as he hopes.

Yoongi talks while he works, “I really hope this is just because the idiot drank too much.” He makes a clicking noise with his tongue when he finally gets the jeans unbuttoned and fly undone. “I’ve been trying to look up information on this whole shit, but everything seems like conspiracy nonsense.” He grunts as he lifts Jimin’s hips so he can pull the jeans down the rest of the way. Jungkook’s breath hitches and he curls his hands into tight fists. Yoongi continues, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil Jungkook is drowning in. “I did find some shop though, just a little bit outside the city.”

This piques Jungkook’s interest, and serves as a distraction. “O-Oh?” He asks, cursing his quivering voice.

Yoongi just nods, sliding Jimin’s jeans down so they’re at his ankles. He delicately starts to slip Jimin’s feet out, one by one. “Yeah, some shop that’s been around for a Jesus. Like, it was passed between generations or some shit I dunno, could be a fib.” When he finally gets Jimin’s jeans all the way off Jungkook is about to pass out from the strange anger (jealousy?) he’s been harbouring. “It was the only thing that looked even slightly credible, as pathetic as that sounds. They didn’t spout shit like sirens had three tongues and eleven fingers, though, so I thought that was probably our best bet right now.” He nods again towards Jimin, “He hasn’t told you much, right?”

“No,” Jungkooks replies, voice slightly more stable. “He doesn’t tell me anything really.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums, “Strange.” He folds Jimin’s jeans and starts to walk out of the bathroom, squeezing Jungkook’s shoulder saying, “All yours, lover boy.” Jungkook ignores the slight sexual innuendo laced in Yoongi’s words.

After he places Jimin delicately in the water, he just stares again. He takes in Jimin’s astounding beauty, his soft features and pink hair falling peacefully over his eyes. That jeweled and shining earring still hangs from his right ear, and Jungkook absently wonders why he never takes the thing off. Jungkook takes a seat on the toilet, rests his elbows on either knee and breathes in sharply. Yoongi’s silent proposition rang in his head, the feeling that he could get some answers finally. It was almost like going behind Jimin’s back, but Jungkook feels like he has the right to know. Perhaps there are things Jimin doesn’t know either, he thinks. Maybe this could satisfy them both.

A groan brings Jungkook back, hid whipping up from where he was staring at his lap. Jimin’s nose is crinkling and there’s movement behind his closed eyes, but he still doesn’t open them. He shifts uncomfortably in the tub, and when Jungkook looks down his tail has in fact returned. When he trails his gaze back to Jimin’s face, he looks almost peaceful. Content. Jungkook is about to leave him there when he sees his eyes open slowly.

“Jungkook?” He whispers, voice low from what was no doubt exhaustion. He scoots himself up so he’s sitting more properly, and as he runs his hand through his hair he looks around blankly. “Where…?”

“You collapsed in front of the club,” Jungkook says, voice not as even as he would have preferred. “Yoongi and I brought you here,” he adds quickly, which warrants a sharp intake of breath from Jimin.

“I see,” he says quietly, looking down at himself. His tail swishes in the water, overflowing the tub just a little, and when Jimin frowns Jungkook doesn’t think it was because he was drowning his bathroom again. 

“Was it because you drank too much?” Jungkook offers when he realises Jimin is glaring almost resentfully at his tail.

Jimin shrugs. “I don’t know,” he replies, but it sounds fake. When he glances over at Jungkook and their eyes meet, the latter notices how exhausted he really looks. It causes Jungook to worry on his bottom lip.

“Do you, er, want your legs back?” Jungkook asks, unsure why he’s so hesitant.

Jimin says nothing, but rather hums. “When was the last time you went swimming?” He asks instead, and the question takes Jungkook a bit off guard.

“Wh-What?” He replies, having started to stand in anticipation of Jimin wholeheartedly begging for his elusive limbs back.

“Swimming?” Jimin repeats, cocking his head to the side as he says so. 

For some reason, Jungkook is struck dead at the question. He opens his mouth a few times just to close it before finally deciding to say, “Does when I dove after you count?”

The small smile that graces Jimin’s lips makes Jungkook’s heart ache. “I suppose it could,” he muses, then eyebrows shoot up in awe of something he’s just remembered. “What happened when you did?”

Ignoring the fact that this was something Jimin should have probably asked the night it all happened Jungkook says, “I nearly drowned.”

Jimin grips the side of the tub with both of his small hands, turning his body to better face Jungkook. He leans over with what seems like curious anticipation. It must be what the gesture was conveying because he hardly says, “Yes, yes, but before that.”

So Jungkook thinks. He takes an awkward seat back on the toilet and rubs what he now realises are sweaty palms atop his jeans. He shrugs. “I held my breath for a long while, longer than I thought I could,” he elaborates, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He watches Jimin’s eyes dart all across the room, resting on one thing and then moving to the next, but never resting back on him. “Why, exactly?” He slowly asks, not sure if he even wants to know the answer.

“I just…” Jimin begins, but stares down at his hands. When Jungkook looks down at them he sees Jimin’s knuckles going white with the severity of his grip. And Jungkook wants to know, is really tired of being in the dark, but he doesn’t like to see Jimin like this, so he surges forward, taking Jimin’s hands into his own.

“Hey,” he says softly, free one hand so he can tilt Jimin’s chin up. His expression is unreadable like it’s been many times before, but he just ignores it and just brings their faces closer together so his forehead rests on Jimin’s. “We’ll worry about it later,” he continues, “For now I’ll do what I know I can do.”

Jungkook presses his lips softly against Jimin’s, and finds himself sighing contently into the kiss. Despite the fact that he’s done this many times before, despite that he was grinding on Jimin not even four hours ago, this kiss feels different. Perhaps it’s because Jungkook is sobering up rather nicely (he had chugged about three bottles of water worth so he could watch Jimin more closely), or maybe he’s letting himself feel the things he keeps trying to push away. 

Jimin grips Jungkook’s hands tighter, tilts his head so he’s at a better angle, and kisses back. He presses himself farther up into Jungkook, parting his lips as an invention for Jungkook to deepen the kiss, but he doesn’t. He swipes his tongue along Jimin’s bottom lip and gingerly takes it in his teeth, but it’s only a soft bite before he releases it, more wanting to feel Jimin’s warmth against him rather than anything else. Jimin whimpers underneath him, squirming slightly in his grip, like he too is feeling something other than the friction they’ve been sharing. The moment Jungkook thinks of this, his eyes flash open in midst of the kiss, sees how Jimin’s eyebrows are laced in a purely blissful expression, and pulls back. 

It’s rather sudden, he realises, but the thought that something was blossoming between them terrifies Jungkook, and he’s not even sure why. “You… You got your legs back,” he says quickly, not even sure if he’s right. A quick glance into the tub tells him he is, and he sighs inwardly of relief. He doesn’t know how else he could have explained himself snapping away from Jimin’s face like it was on fire.

Jimin blinks at him, but before he can say anything Jungkook hears a soft chuckle behind him. He already knows who it is, but the look on Jimin’s face is just the cementing the fact. His eyes have blown wide and a new flush attacks his cheeks, and Jungkook would laugh right back if he didn’t feel the betraying colour reach his cheeks as well.

“I always wondered how that whole dynamic worked,” Yoongi says from behind Jungkook. Jimin has looked down at his hands still gripping the side of the tub. For all his prowess and claims of badassery, it was amusing to see him so flustered. “Can anyone do it, or does it have to be Jungkook?” Yoongi asks and the question boils Jungkook’s blood like before.

He stays watching Jimin instead, who shakes his head from where he’s staring down at his small hands. “It can only be Jungkook,” he says softly. Jungkook’s heart flutters at the knowledge, however, and he hates himself for it.

Yoongi makes a humming noise that was no doubt trying to be condescending. “Well damn,” he says and Jungkook finally turns. Yoongi looks absolutely exhausted beyond words, and Jungkook feels only a little bad that he keeps getting mad at him. For stupid reasons too, ones he doesn’t even fully understand. “Listen, I’m going to go, I’ll text you tomorrow,” he says and adds, “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Jungkook nods but doesn’t say much, telling Jimin under his breath that he’s going to see Yoongi out. When the two of them get to the door of Jungkook’s apartment, he worries on his lower lip before saying, “Are we bringing Jimin with us tomorrow?”

Yoongi breathes out, the sound of air whistling past his teeth. He bops his head back and forth as if he’s lost in thought, and maybe he is, before he just shrugs. “I mean don’t you collapse without him around?”

For some reason that comment makes Jungkook flush ever so slightly. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I suppose...”

“It’ll be fine,” Yoongi assures him, slapping an affectionate hand on his shoulder. He tries his best to genuinely smile but Jungkook doesn’t think it really reaches that. “Jimin probably has some questions himself.”

At that Jungkook nods in agreement, forgoing telling Yoongi that the night he found out about Jimin he was doing just that, only asking some entity Jungkook has no idea what it could be. “Yeah,” he says quietly instead, and gives Yoongi a quick hug goodbye.

When the door shuts he finally feels like he can breathe a little easier, and rubs a tired hand down his face. He doesn’t even know what time it is, but it feels late. Like, really late. Like maybe it’s even already five in the morning. He chances a quick glance at his clock as he walks back towards the bathroom and it reads three a.m. Not as bad as Jungkook thought, but still probably not that great. He approaches the bathroom and upon seeing it empty, figures Jimin probably went to go get dressed. When he walks in his room, he sees just that—a Jimin sitting cross legged on his bed and staring intently at the drawstring on his sweatpants.

“Those are huge on you,” Jungkook finds himself saying, laughing under his breath at how tight Jimin has the drawstring pulled.

Jimin looks up and smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not my fault you’re a giant,” he counters and smirks. It fades quickly thought as Jimin struggles to say, “Can I… Sleep with you tonight?”

Because Jungkook has the mind of a fifteen year old his first thought is Jimin wants to have sex with him. And in all honesty, of course Jungkook would. He would fuck Jimin until he couldn’t speak, voice too hoarse from moaning in both pain and pleasure. He would bite at his neck, mark him as his, and my goodness how pretty Jimin would look under him. Not realising he started to breathe a little heavily and stare at the floor, he jolts his head back up to meet Jimin’s gaze, of which is one of confusion and what looks like regret. The regret is probably from asking Jungkook if he could sleep with him, which he now belatedly realises probably means actual sleep. Jungkook swallows.

“Sure,” he manages to say. He doesn’t bother to ask Jimin why, just quietly goes to remove his clothes. He makes a point to face away from Jimin as he does so, despite the fact that the guy has literally sucked his dick. He shivers at the thought and tries to tell himself it’s because he’s removed his shirt, but he knows he’s lying to himself. He wonders when he’ll stop with that.

After Jungkook crawls into bed, Jimin literally dashes at him, immediately pressing himself against Jungkook’s side and nuzzling his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He’s not sure why he’s surprised at the action, but carefully pulls the blanket to cover them nonetheless, pressing a wordless kiss to the crown of Jimin’s head. Jimin trembles on top of him, so Jungkook holds him close, humming under his breath until the steady rhythm of Jimin’s breathing tells him he’s asleep. Jungkook is quick to follow.

It’s been a while since Jungkook has dreamed. Of course people tell you that you dream every night regardless of whether or not you remember it, so maybe it’s just been a while since Jungkook has remembered. He finds himself floating in what just seems like the air or maybe the clouds, staring at a scenery of white threatening to consume him. He feels cold, and when he looks down he’s not wearing a shred of clothing. He yelps, but it doesn’t come out quite right, like he’s underwater. 

He turns his head wildly, trying to figure out where he is but there’s nothing to tell him. He starts to feel panic boil up his throat but he tries to suppress it as best he can. He wiggles his legs to get a feel of what sort of suspension he’s trapped in, and finds they move easily. So there’s no resistance, Jungkook thinks, and tries to wiggle his fingers just to be sure. They are the same, and it just further deepens his confusion.

“How long do you think you can hold out?” A voice asks, but Jungkook can’t see where it’s coming from, nor can he ascertain who it is. “It’s pointless, you know, to resist it,” it booms, and it sounds angry this time. Jungkook is finding it harder to dampen his panic. 

He swirls himself around, now feeling like he’s treading water, and sees a shadowy figure far ahead of him. He’s not sure how far, but he’s content to keep the distance as best he can. He breathes in sharply, trying to make a shape out of the dark abyss. 

“Do you still not get it?” The voice coos, and it gives Jungkook goosebumps. “Oh,” the voice says, drawing out the sound, “He hasn’t told you.” The figure slowly approaches Jungkook, of which he can’t seem to move away from. It’s like he’s trapped in a cage, and when he tries to speak nothing comes out but choked bubbles. He doesn’t understand; he’s scared.

“Perhaps I should show you,” the voice says, becoming louder. The shroud covering it fades, and Jungkook sees what he thinks is a siren, but it’s not right. There’s what looks like a distinctive shark tail instead of the beautifully scaled one that Jimin has, and it’s covered in scars. When Jungkook looks up he sees the person—thing—has hollow eyes, devoid of any colour and any discernible pupils. Scars cover their face as well, and as Jungkook’s gaze trails down their torso, he breathes in sharply. The figure is wearing a shawl that covers most of them, but Jungkook can clearly see deep gashes and what might be burns on the exposed part of their arms. When he looks back at their face, they’re grinning widely and it shows off razor sharp teeth.

“How sad,” the thing taunts, “The poor lamb doesn’t even know.” It nods to Jungkook, the grin not fading even slightly. “Well go on then, look down and see for yourself.”

Jungkook doesn’t want to. He really, really doesn’t, but there’s a betraying part of him that looks down. He looks down and feels like his pulse might shoot right out of him: he has a tail. It’s a tail just like Jimin’s, and it’s on him. He has a tail. Belatedly he thinks, he’s a siren. The realisation chokes him and he frantically claws at his tail as if it will make it go away; it only serves to cut his hand slightly.

The shark-siren hybrid thing (that’s starting to get on Jungkook’s nerves) laughs at him, and it rings off his eardrums. Makes his blood turn cold. “At least you finally see now,” it says, and when Jungkook slowly lifts his head it isn’t smiling so much anymore, but something coy still tugs at the edge of their lips. “Congratulations, you’re a siren now.” It reaches out a hand and rubs a thumb across Jungkook’s lower lip as it says low and ferocious, “Forever.”

Jungkook wakes up with a shriek and a cold sweat.

Beside him Jimin stirs slightly, crinkling his nose, but doesn’t wake. Jungkook looks down at him sharply as he tries to remember how to breathe, tries to remember anything and everything Jimin has told him about this siren business up until now. He remembers him saying this spell was more a virus, and Jungkook’s immune system was failing. In his head he’s trying to desperately recall anything Jimin has hinted at, but nothing makes a connection to his dream.