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Jin saved him, literally, when he was at his lowest. Yoongi had been an awkward teenager then, small and angry and powerless, with no way to vent. He wrote raps that no one listened to, talked to people who didn't care, and all he wanted was to be heard.
Sometimes, when he was frustrated, he'd cut himself, the thin lines running across his pale wrists. He liked the contrast, liked how his blood flowed smoothly in a way his rap couldn't.
He'd seen the man before, lurking in the back, drinking tequila like it was liquid courage but never venturing onto the stage. He'd wondered, briefly, what drove the man here; the love of music, no, the atmosphere? The hype? Just a place to drown the loneliness?
He was handsome and always left with a companion of either gender. Teen Yoongi was horrendously jealous of the man, of that gravitational charm. Teen Yoongi was a jealous green booger.
"Hi! I'm Kim Seokjin. I'm a fan."
Yoongi looked up; it was the man from the back.
"So?" he scoffed. The man's lips twitched upwards. His eyes sparkled.
"I just wanted to introduce myself before you become famous."
Wasn't that a pretty thought? Yoongi fought to keep the smile off his face. Famous? As a rapper? He could only hope.
"You don't look like the type to enjoy rap." One, teen Yoongi was a rude little shit. Two, Kim Seokjin was dressed in a nice wool trench coat with red Converse and branded pants. He stood out amidst the poor, struggling rappers of the underground.
The man smiled and gestured towards the stage where Yoongi was next.
Kim Seokjin didn't speak to him afterwards, but he was at every showcase. It was his lyrics that the man liked, people said. They said that Kim-sshi would sing them when he waited for his beer, that he'd ask his newest conquest whether they heard the boy's stage earlier.
It humbled him to have a fan. There were better rappers there, Yoongi admitted to himself. They made a better impact, rapped faster, rapped more poisonously. He didn't have that level of rage yet, but he would; give it time.
A clean cut a little too long and a little too deep. He savored the dream-state his mind floated in. He felt cold, but hell, it was winter; it was cold everywhere.
It was... it was nice.
Maybe he dreamt, maybe he died, but when his eyes opened, the man was cradling him.
''Just wait,'' the man murmured. ''If only you'd wait and live a full life, I'll take your soul then.''
Shadows painted his walls in broad strokes. Ice formed on his bangs. The man's shadow had horns springing from his head. He reached out to touch them.
"What a strange dream," he rasped.
The man raised his wrist and kissed the dripping blood.
"Sometimes I'm afraid of myself too," the man said. Yoongi understood.
"You're a demon."
The man smiled solemnly.
"I would like to hear you rap again, Min Yoongi."
"Min Yoongi is dead," he whispered back. "I killed him."
It must have been a dream. His parents found him and took him to a therapist. Three years later and he was a trainee for BigHit. He never imagined himself as an idol, but the company planned on creating a hiphop group, and no one heard it from him, but working with Rap Monster and Hoseok was amazing.
It felt like... friendship. It was a relief to meet people who were as serious about music as he was, who loved rap as much as they loved anything else.
More trainees filtered in. A fetus named Jungkook wandered in and Yoongi expected the kid to debut much later, in a different group (he was proven so wrong). Bang PD-nim summarized another trainee who had just entered uni and was being prepped for acting.
Yoongi met Taehyung, danced with Jungkook, and heard rumors that this acting student was going to be in his group. WTF.
Yoongi was the eldest, and he never let the trainees forget it. He didn't wave the power around, but he made it clear that his naps were not to be disturbed.
"I'd like to introduce Kim Seokjin; he'll be training with you guys from now on."
There were a lot of Kims and a lot of Seokjins in Seoul. It wasn't improbable that he'd meet someone else with that name in his lifetime.
But it wasn't another Kim Seokjin; it was that one.
"Annyeonghaseyo." He bowed. He looked younger than in Yoongi's memories, like a man who turned time backwards. He hadn't realized that it was a power demons had.
Yoongi had a spine of steel, his instructors said, had a hiphop soul, as he himself said, but when confronted with Kim Seokjin, he willingly folded. No one messed with the supernatural and came out unscathed.
Kim Seokjin ("-call me hyung!") had no skills fit for an idol, as stated by his own mouth. All he had were his looks.
The instructors debated.
"He has great shoulders."
"He's got... some 'je n'ai sais quoi?' There's always one member that's got it."
Yoongi wished that he could tell him that they didn't need to worry about Kim-sshi ("It's Jin-hyung.") being the visual, that the man from three years ago was a bombshell that had people eating out of his hands.
(God knew how many people handed over their credit cards just to have the man smile at them. It was one skill that he'd been especially jealous of.)
"Hyung," Yoongi greeted. Namjoon questioned why he was so polite to the newbie, but he ignored him. Let the other boy come to his own conclusion.
"Why are you here?" Yoongi asked him one night. Seokjin-hyung looked up from his rice.
"Do you remember?"
"Was I not supposed to?" Could demons erase memories too? Was he missing chunks of time? What did he do yesterday?
"I'm waiting," hyung replied. Yoongi quirked an eyebrow.
Seokjin gave him a mysterious smile.
"Did you come back to life, Min Yoongi?"
He had.
He'd breathed in once more in the hospital and hadn't stopped. There were no longer scars on his wrists, but he felt the welts under his fingertips, like phantom memories.
Namjoon was logically the next person to find out. He was equal parts observant and way too smart to not put two and two together.
When he first had his suspicions, his first thought wasn't 'demon,' but he acknowledged that there was something off about the eldest hyung.
Jin never showed off his body even though it was obviously the best out of all of theirs. He wore long sleeves throughout dance practice while the rest of them tried to toe the line between fanservice and scandalous.
Hyung had a body that could draw crowds if he decided to flaunt it. Instead it was Jimin who flashed his admittedly impressive abs and drew in the fans. Hyung had a body that could launch fan wars if only he'd stop covering it up like a nun.
But he didn't push. He wasn't sure if it was a confidence issue or a scar or something else, so he kept his observation to himself.
Secondly, Jin never gained weight, no matter what he ate and no matter how much. Namjoon noticed because he was jealous, but still, it was a valid point.
Then the observations took a turn for the strange.
The elder had a flexible... aura? When he was exhausted or irritated, the other boy faded into the background, hard to distinguish from the wall even as Namjoon focused on him. His brown hair melded into white walls, and Namjoon kept squinting, but Jin was faint, like an outline of a person. Other days, the boy's aura filled the room.
It was their debut day.
Taehyung and Jungkook played with a balloon they found in the trash to calm their nerves. Jimin joined in, and between the yelps and hollers of the maknae line, the tension in the room eased.
They split into teams: hyungs vs maknaes. The stakes? The Chocopies Jin's mother sent.
The maknaes were obviously in the lead, but Hoseok was giving it his all.
There was chocolate on the line-
-until they broke a vase.
Namjoon leaned a tad too far and bumped into it.
(God of Destruction, his mind whispered.)
Crash! Went the vase against the ground.
Crash! Went Hoseok's chair as the boy jolted up.
Bam! Went the door.
That manager walked in, the one that left bruises on their skin and scars on the psyche. That one.
"Sorry, hyung-nim. I was a klutz."
Jin-hyung stepped from behind the manager and smiled apolgetically. It obviously wasn't him; he'd just arrived.
It wasn't him.
It wasn't him.
-but the manager didn't care. Jin's aura engulfed the room and everyone could only stare at the scene in front of them. The manager didn't pay attention to the six of them, to the suspects, only to Jin.
It wasn't him.
"It-" he tried to speak up. He was the one who knocked the vase over.
"It-"
Jin led the manager away after giving Namjoon a stern glance.
He couldn't let Jin take the blame, not when hyung had been stressed out from classes and learning to dance and he couldn't let hyung take the blame.
Namjoon felt pinned, like a butterfly on a dissection tray. He willed his feet to move but panic held him still.
Click. Went the door as it latched.
Namjoon rushed to catch them, to explain that it wasn't Jin-hyung's fault, couldn't manager-hyung see that? Jin-hyung wasn't even in the room!
He needed to-
Yoongi grabbed his arm.
"Let go." He needed to stop them.
"Hyung knows what he's doing."
Namjoon was stunned. Yoongi and Jin were close; how could hyung tell him to let Jin take the fall for his blunder?
He wanted to scream that hyung's broad shoulders weren't broad so that they could carry more burdens, weren't wide so that they could fit more lashes. He wanted to yell that hyung's kindness wasn't something that he could take advantage of-
-but he couldn't because he was still in public and they had their debut in less than an hour.
"It wasn't his fault," he muttered to the other rapper. Yoongi rubbed his shoulder.
"Trust me on this."
Namjoon didn't see how he could, but he tried. He lifted his head and glanced around the room.
The other members were quiet. They didn't blame him; they participated together.
(God of Destruction. He destroyed them before they even debuted. The maknae line were one harsh word away from bursting into tears; Hobi was actually crying while a stylist-noona fixed his makeup, and Namjoon felt like a monster.)
They returned with ten minutes to spare. Jin told them not to worry, but Namjoon knew that the bruises wouldn't ache until later.
The manager had a small smirk on his lips, but his eyes were empty. Those eyes didn't dart around the room, relishing in the fear the man evoked. He robotically focused straight ahead.
The others were too distracted to notice, but the manager came back as half a man and their hyung came back as something more. There was a sway to his hips, a power in his eyes, as if Jin could devour them whole.
It didn't spark fear in him, only intrigue.
Their debut performance went perfectly. No one showed an ounce of skin that wasn't planned.
No one slept well that night.
Namjoon hadn't slept a wink. He heard Taehyung throwing up in the middle of the night before shuffling back to his bunk, sniffling all the while. He heard Jungkook crying.
He couldn't take it anymore. He stumbled out of the room. The dawn light was barely streaming through the living room.
Seokjin-hyung contently sipped his tea. He was beautiful in the dim light, all shadows and serenity. Namjoon breathed in the scent of freshly brewed oolong, and through the steam his hyung's eyes were bright, like two golden disks in the sun.
"Morning, hyung," he mumbled.
Jin smiled.
"Morning, Joonie."
Namjoon sat across from him and stared.
Waited.
"Is my face that attractive, Joon-ah?"
The younger reddened.
"You're always pretty, hyung."
Another sip of tea. Jin pushed a plate of biscuits towards him.
"Flattery will get you everywhere. Was there something that you wanted?"
"Have you slept?"
"No. What else?"
Sweat trickled down his back. Spiders climbed up his spine.
"What happened with manager-hyung, yesterday?"
Honestly, there was nothing that the boys could do; not until they started earning money and popularity, but Namjoon was the leader and he needed to document this.
Jin's eyes were still gold, but they were cold now.
"I talked to him."
He snorted, disbelieving.
"You can't expect me to believe that that's all you guys did, hyung."
Jin smiled, cruel and scary and nothing he usually associated with this hyung.
"We reached a... an ultimatum."
When Namjoon saw that manager next, the man was gaunt and drenched in a cold sweat. Jin's expression brightened when he greeted him.
Namjoon watched as Jin leaned close to the man, lips brushing over the other's ear as long, crooked fingers brushed up the man's torso. The man flinched. Jin pressed closer.
Hoseok called out for dance practice to begin. Jin wandered towards the group, eyes never leaving Namjoon's even as the boy pet Jungkook's hair. Yoongi headed towards them, but the older boy shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips.
Quiet.
Wait.
A different manager drove them to the dorms after practice. Everyone was in an uncharacteristically cheerful mood.
The morning brought news that one of the managers was rushed to the hospital for a stroke, that manager.
Jin hummed as he cooked them breakfast.
That man was alive, but would never live life as more than a vegetable.
Bang PD-nim apologized for their loss; it must have been a shock. Namjoon still had the presence of mind not to tell him that the event was anything but a loss.
He was so, so, so relieved. He held his head in his hands and sobbed alone in the recording studio. Should he send a group message? Tell them face-to-face?
He should message them to gather at the dorm. Yes, do that. His fingers slipped, and his phone crashed to the floor.
God of Destruction. God of Destruction. God of Destructi-
"Namjoon-ah!" Hoseok burst through the door. Namjoon's eyes were still wet.
He couldn't destroy this: not now, not ever.
"Hyung. Tell everyone to be at the dorm; I have news."
What happened that night will never be spoken of, but Namjoon can affirm that they all became closer afterwards.
Jin was still a giant question mark in his mind. Had... had hyung done something to cause the stroke? Had he poisoned the man or paid someone to do it? Should he ask Yoongi-hyung before confronting Jin?
-but what if it was a coincidence? What if he was mis-attributing mal intentions to his hyung? Surely the boy who wrapped the maknaes in his arms as they cried wasn't a person who could murder that man with an entire company watching.
So what if Yoongi had stared into Jin's eyes when Namjoon made the announcement? Who cared if Jin's smirk made Yoongi flinch? Who cared that the latter nodded in acquiescence moments later?
Who cared that Jin couldn't hide his true nature when BTS was being hurt?
This was Jin-hyung, who tried so hard to be normal even as he simmered with rage; the same Jin-hyung who tried to imitate being okay even when Namjoon watched his aura flair like an angry cat hissing, when the shadows flickered and Jin looked like he was trying so hard to keep it together.
Who cared that sometimes Jin stared at people from behind his chopsticks as he tried to understand what made them tick. Who cared that he stuffed his face just so that he'd have an excuse to observe longer? (Management, that's whom, but who were they to complain when Jin-hyung never gained a pound?) Who cared that WebMD told him that his hyung had psychopathic tendencies?
He had his theories, but he kept them to himself. Who was he to judge Jin for crimes he was still innocent of?
(Innocent until proven guilty.)
(Decades later, after Namjoon discovered what Jin was, he dug through hospital records; Jin hadn't missed a single anniversary of the man's stroke.)
Taehyung found out next.
It was anticlimatic. He woke the eldest up by flopping on him like a child. Jin opened one golden eye before petting his head.
"Was there something that you wanted, Taetae?" he mumbled.
Taehyung rested his head on Jin's chest.
"You'd never hurt us, would you?"
Jin continued petting.
"Do you think that I'm capable of that?"
Taehyung shook his head.
"Can you do anything cool?"
Jin laughed and rolled him into his arms. He tucked the red head under his chin. Taehyung snuggled happily.
"Nothing that's helpful with being an idol."
"Well, only angels have nice voices, right?"
Jin squeezed his body warningly.
"Yah. I sing just fine, passable for an idol, really. And I'm the visual, remember? Every group has one."
"I thought that I was the visual."
"You can be sub-visual," came the placating reply.
"Let's vote."
"Hyung's vetoing that. Shhhh, sub-visual. Sleepy time, now."
Taehyung glanced at the sleeping face. Jin seemed younger when he was asleep, like he could blend in with the maknae line. The day's stresses melted away immediately, giving way to bone-deep exhaustion. Taehyung smoothed out a frown between his hyung's eyebrows.
Tae wasn't 100% sure of what his hyung was, but he was sure that whatever it is, it was 100% capable of loving them.
"You know that you don't have to go so overboard with the pink, right? It feels like you're overcompensating," he murmured. Jin scrunched his nose in irritation.
"I like pink!"
"For reals?"
Taehyung felt him roll his eyes.
"For reals."
He noticed that Namjoon and Yoongi-hyung were in on the secret too. They didn't defer to him; they were too much of alpha males to do that, but sometimes, when their schedule was too packed and no one slept for more than an hour or two at a time, they'd run interference.
They isolated him, let him calm down, eat, whatever, until his eyes stopped sparkling behind the the circle lens and his shadow stopped wavering under the camera lights. Other times, they ran interference on everyone else. They crowded the rest of BTS into a game or in front of a camera as Jin stalked towards a manager or a stylist or anyone, and suddenly they'd have half a day to relax before a schedule or maybe food that wasn't strictly on their diet was delivered. Once, after reading a script for a show, Jin-hyung was so angry that he stormed out. The others were too engrossed in the script, constructing answers that weren't answers so they could skirt probing questions.
Tae found him, fingers twisting the shirt of a PD-nim, and an angry hiss falling from his lips. The shadows were darker there, in the hallway, and the PD-nim was about to choke to death.
"Change it," Jin whispered. His blond hair didn't hide the writhing shadow of horns atop it.
The PD-nim whimpered.
Jin released him and the man fell like a rag doll. He was a prince then, cold and dismissive and self-assured. Taehyung watched this side of his hyung quietly; he wouldn't turn away. This was still his hyung, and he wasn't afraid.
The script, to the crew's surprise, was hastily revised. Taehyung scanned the room, saw how BTS relaxed minutely, how the writers' eyebrows furrowed, and nodded to himself.
Jin was off to the side, not pleased as Taehyung expected him to be. Instead, he was still angry, sad, disappointed, drained? His clenched and unclenched his fist, staring at how the light bounced off the rings on his fingers.
Under the bright lights near the mirrors, there were no shadows playing on the floor or across the walls. Under those lights, hyung could pretend that he wasn't something other than human, that he didn't just frighten a man to bow to his will.
Management... Kind of knew. It was hard to hide a secret that large while being monitored 24/7. Bang PD knew that the boy wasn't there for fame or money or music; he had an ulterior motive. At the same time, he could see that Kim Seokjin was necessary for group he was building.
The boy was direct; he didn't sugarcoat his thoughts, even if every important piece of the sentence was sandwiched between swearing. Suga was the same way, but Jin knew how to hold his tongue. He held it and bowed his head submissively, but one wrong word too far and his pointed rebukes made Yoongi sound tame.
A serpent's tongue, he heard someone mutter off-handedly. So true.
Instructors complained when Seokjin lashed out, mainly because they weren't accustomed to it. Nip a bad habit in the bud, they thought. He ignored their complaints because if swearing was Seokjin's greatest personality flaw, he'd take it.
Otherwise, the boy was angel. He was kind; only those truly kind could feed his dongsaengs from his own pocket and cook for them while they were trainees and not making any money. He was loving; he treated the other trainees like family, hugged them when they were homesick, spent time with them when they were lonely.
Sure, he was clumsy and awkward. Sure, he couldn't dance or sing. Sure, he wasn't full of raw talent like the others, but Bang PD was willing to put effort in that.
You could teach skill, but you couldn't teach sincerity.
A SM agent tried to recruit the boy for modeling or acting or just for his shoulders, but the boy bowed politely and refused the business card. It was obvious, then, that Seokjin had thrown his lot in with Bangtan Sonyeondan.
Jin could have made it bigger in SM as a visual. He wouldn't need to sing as a model, wouldn't need to learn dances as an actor, wouldn't need to feed and clothe and wake dongsaengs everyday.
The instructors questioned why he was so adamant that Jin be a part of the new group, but he waved their queries away. He had a gut feeling, he told those closest to him, but in honesty, it was rational. BTS was built around Rap Monster, but he wasn't their keystone. The boy was a good leader, but all of the members had strong personalities; it wouldn't be long before they spiraled into fury and disbanded. Jin, however, was a balm. He wasn't in it for the money or the fame or the music.
He was in it for the people.
So yes, Rap Monster was the leader, but Bang PD could already see how Jin would be the queen to his king.
He wondered how everyone else missed the other things too, how the staff couldn't see the weird shadows that traveled through the floorboards and cushioned the fall of an exhausted younger member. Didn't understand why they couldn't see how Jin was older than he appeared to be, that in his eyes he was ancient.
"Bang PD-nim." He snapped his head up. Speak of the devil.
Those lips curled up, as if the boy read his mind.
He knew that the moment those eyes turned gold, it would be over for him. He watched it happen to one of the managers who was rumored to have been hurting the boys. He had been too busy, too tired, too stressed, too full of excuses to pay attention to the rumors, but after the man came to him blubbering about demons and eyes and shadows and fear, after the man was hospitalized... he knew that he was next. The group was his to protect, and he failed it.
"Seokjin."
The boys observed him passively, eyes booring into his own.
Electricity sparked behind the brown, and he held his breath.
"Please take care of yourself, PD-nim. You've been stressed recently." Was that... was that a threat?
Another quirk of the lips.
"I know what manager hyung-nim told you."
The air chilled, as if someone left a window open down the hall. Not cold enough for his breath to frost over, but goosebumps still prickled over his skin.
"You're a good man, PD-nim; he wasn't. Don't let this happen to my boys again."
He left. Jin, that is. The boy disappeared like a ghost, leaving behind the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon and flower petals.
He laughed. Demons weren't anything like his priest described.
Jin had only gotten seriously I'm-fucking-done-with-this once. It was a blessing that it had only been once.
He'd gotten angry before, sure. Namjoon and Yoongi frequently refused to eat while they worked and slept under the desk in the recording room instead of returning to their beds. Jin clucked disappointedly as he placed their uneaten food in the fridge.
Hoseok and Jimin danced until their legs fell off, then refused to eat to keep their dancer physique. It was a miracle that the drank enough water, considering they were afraid of the bloat. Jin wondered if he should even bother cooking at this point; take-out would be faster and cheaper.
Jungkook refused to go to school, complaining that he was too tired and that he hated it.
"I'm an idol, hyung; I don't need to go to school," the boy snapped. Jin wasn't deterred, dragging the youngest kicking and screaming to the car at ass o'clock in the morning. No coffee yet, no breakfast yet, and still he drove the boy to his class before going home for a nap before his own classes began.
Taehyung was just... loud. Usually it wasn't a problem, but not today, not with how the month was going, and Jin just needed to escape.
Usually he could wrangle at least one of them to listen, but not recently. Jungkook kept screaming that Jin wasn't his mother and that he could just back off; the others were much the same. Jin wasn't the boss of them; it didn't matter if he was older; he wasn't the leader. No one told you to cook for us hyung. No one said to do the laundry, hyung, No one told you to butt into our private lives, hyung; just mind your business and leave us alone.
It was late, nearly midnight. Jin shoved a hand roughly through his hair. Namjoon and Yoongi weren't coming back for food or sleep; Jungkook hadn't replied to a single one of his texts; ditto for the dancing twins.
"Fine."
Darkness flooded the dorm. It snuffed the lights out, rushed past Taehyung's head as the boy turned. It was cold, slimy, disconcerting. Taehyung was scared, but hyung promised, promised to never hurt them.
He doesn't.
Jin stomped into his room.
Jin stomped out of his room.
The darkness receded, swirling around his hair like stag horns.
He was dressed for an underground club: tight pants and a ripped shirt that was more air than cloth. His ears were full of piercings. The shadows writhed on his skin until they settle in as a tattoo across his neck and left arm.
Hyung's eyes were golden, the rim of liner enhancing them.
He glanced at him and gave a jaunty wave.
"I'm going out."
Tae scanned the news for anything unusual. Murder or mayhem... maybe both.
Jungkook snuck out of the dorm to go clubbing with BamBam-hyung. They hadn't gone all out for fear of being recognized, and were hanging by the bar when it happened.
There was a commontion by the door. Jungkook figured that a celebrity had waltzed in, but then the club's atmosphere shifted. It became... dangerous. Men and women flocked towards the doors with predatory grins on their lips; wow, it must be G-dragon or any Big Bang member.
He craned he neck to sneak a peek. Gelled blond hair peered through the cracks in heads, a bright smile... a familiar laugh.
He choked on his beer. Only one person laughed like squeaking windows. In a flash he chugged his drink, intent on skedaddling before Jin-hyung had physical proof that he was there. He scanned social media; had someone recognized him and spilled the beans? His mind formulated a multitude of excuses, but then there was a break in the crowd and he saw what his hyung was wearing.
Hyung was devastating. There were oceans of skin on display every inch of it was muscled and soft, and it wasn't fair that someone could have a body like that while munching on cakes and cookies.
Bambam couldn't catch his breath.
"OMG, what is hyung doing here?" Jungkook wailed.
Bambam turned to him.
"Your hyung?"
Jungkook blinked. Didn't Bambam recognize him?
"Jin-hyung?"
"From BTS?" he looked incredulous.
"Where else?" Sure, hyung had an apple pie image and this wasn't how he usually dressed, but it wasn't like he had plastic surgery or anything; he just changed his clothes.
Jungkook scrolled through his social media. Surely someone would have posted that Kim Seokjin from BTS was at an underground club.
"Jinnie-hyung?" Jungkook rolled his eyes. That boy sounded like he was about to have an aneurysm.
The internet was silent. It seemed that no one other than him could recognize hyung's face, and people were too busy trying to get into hyung's pants than posting.
The worst, worst part was that hyung seemed to be letting them. Hands roamed his body and hyung smiled indulgently, leaned in.
Bambam gravitated towards the orgy-in-waiting, but the younger snagged his collar. Nope. That was not going to happen on his watch.
"Dude, let me go!"
"Jin-hyung has standards!"
"Why is Jackson ok, but not me?" Bambam whined petulantly.
"What?"
A finger pointed towards a blur that did look like Jackson-hyung trying to grind up against Jin.
"Hold my drink, hyung! I need to save my hyung and beat up yours!" Jungkook shoved his beer into Bambam's hands and stomped towards the orgy-in-progress.
goldenmaknae: GUYS. JIN-HYUNG IS AT THE CLUB I'M AT AND IS ORCHESTRATING AN ORGY
PokeMonster: Why are you at a club??? YOU'RE UNDERAGE!
j-sunshine: rebellious~
sugafree: lol
goldenmaknae: NOT THE POINT! I NEED TO SAVE HYUNG!
sugafree: he's fine. just let him be.
goldenmaknae: hyung! jackson's trying to get with him! hyung's too out of his league!!!! we need to protect hyung's standards!
PokeMonster: *hyung
goldenmaknae has uploaded a photo
taetaetartersauce: yup. that's the hyung that walked out of the dorm over an hour ago.
minimochi: OMGDkDHGFDG That's hyung?????!!! He's hawt~!
j-sunshine: Where's this club?!!!! I- I'll come help. >_>
goldenmaknae: HYUNG!!!!
sugafree: fuck. send us a video of that.
goldenmaknae: HYUNG. PLZ.
sugafree: he's an adult. he can de-stress however he wants
goldenmaknae: OMG. OMO OMO. SOMEONE COVER MY EYES.
minimochi: YOU CAN COVER YOUR EYES AND FILM AT THE SAME TIME.
taetaetartersauce: STOP CRYING JEON JUNGKOOK! NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR YOU CRY.
goldenmaknae: IF YOU'RE SO THIRSTY FOR HYUNG'"S MOANING, JUST ASK RM-HYUNG!
PokeMonster: ???????
minimochi: O_O ??????
j-sunshine: ////->-<-//////
sugafree: trouble.
PokeMonster: I thought we agreed to never talk about that!
taetaetartersauce: good thikning kookie! perfkt bgm track!
sugafree: yah. we can sell this if album sales don't go well. make sure to find a good angle
goldenmaknae: I DON"T WANT SOFTCORE PORN ON MY PHONE.
PokeMonster: Here. Looks hardcore to me.
Jungkook refused to exist in this world anymore. The bartender was too distracted to ask for his non-existent ID as he absently slid another beer his way.
It was hard to ignore the orgy happening behind him, but he tried. The lights flickered, and he recognized the irregular shadows on the wall.
He sighed into his empty can. Wow. That disappeared quickly.
A sly shadow rolled a water bottle to him.
Jungkook dropped his head to the counter, blushing. Jin-hyung knew that he was here.
eommajin: Yah. Someone pick up JK. Things are about to get 20+.
goldenmaknae: IT'S BEEN 20+ since you've been here!
eommajin: still. someone get him out of here.
j-sunshine: Isn't Namjoon there?
eommajin: ... he's busy. someone else.
sugafree: unbusy him
eommajin: he's busy
eommajin is changed to slutjin.
slutjin: i will not be slut-shamed this way
The rest of BTS arrived at the club and no one noticed because well, reasons.
Jungkook was in a corner drunk sobbing and stress-eating wings.
"Yo! JK~" Jimin launched his body at him, conveniently ignorning the sweat pit next to them.
Jackson and Bambam were passed out in the booth, napkins in strategic locations keeping them decent.
"Minnie-hyung!" Jungkook sobbed. "I had to protect Jin-hyung's virtue all by myself!"
Yoongi snorted.
"What virtue?"
The maknae glared.
"Hyung would never forgive me if I let him drunk fuck Jackson."
"Fuck you," came a sleepy mumble.
The 95 line piled into the booth and ordered pitchers and more chicken. They had their phones at the ready.
Hoseok and Yoongi stood in front of the table, blocking their view.
"Hyungs~" Jimin whined cutely. Yoongi crossed his arms.
slutjin: yah, min yoongi. let Hobi take care of the kids
j-sunshine: hyung! that's not fair! T_T
Yoongi smirked.
"Hyung's orders."
j-sunshine is changed to j-sad.
No one talked about that night, mainly because BTS were the only ones who survived the ordeal relatively sane. No one (probably) regretted that night; it was wild.
Around 5 am, Jin extracted himself from a pile of mostly naked bodies, dragging Yoongi and Namjoon up with him. The others were around, somewhere. The eldest kicked limbs and bodies until he has collected his wayward children.
They groaned like a zombie hoard. They were tired and sticky and fucked in every sense of the word, but hey, now they had enough material to write their next two albums and a mixtape for each rapper. Jungkook could probably drop his own tape with what he witnessed last night.
Jin hummed with energy. His eyes were bright, and he practically skipped to Jungkook's booth.
Jin grabbed the remains of someone's shirt and hastily cleaned himself up before hugging the maknae.
"Thanks, JK!" he crooned while subtly signalling to both the Got7 members. Cheekily, because those two were fine as fuck.
The maknae gagged.
"Hyung!" he cried petulantly. Jin kissed the top of his head.
"We ready to go home?"
"Will we get charged for public indecency if we leave with you?"
Jin hugged him again.
"Aw, my baby. Are you jealous that I left you out?"
Jungkook blushed. No. Absolutely not.
"Yes." he pouted.
Jin laughed.
"Look forward to your birthday next year," he winked.
The members groaned in horror.
Jungkook hugged him back.
The shadows were warm when they wrapped around them. Jin hailed a taxi for the two Got7 members and texted JB to fetch them when they arrived.
The Uber driver didn't look at them as they piled into the van. Jungkook wasn't sure if it was because he was used to this or if it was a part of Jin-hyung's magic.
The two of them were the only decent members.
Hyung was zipped up in his leather jacket which covered his nonexistent shirt underneath. His ripped jeans were on and whole. He was convinced that they were an illusion because the maknae definitely saw someone hook their hands through the holes and rip it off of hyung. He subtly tried to touch the jeans to ascertain their real-ness, but Jin slapped his fingers with a smile.
He hoped hyung was wearing real underwear, but he sincerely doubted it. He probably didn't even illusion up fake underwear.
Jungkook was untouched by the orgy, so he was fine. Traumatized, but decent.
Yoongi-hyung was spread on top of Hobi-hyung, Both of them were wrecked, like they were posing for a cover of a skin mag. Jimin and Tae were cuddled so close that they might have been sharing one set of clothes between them. Namjoon-hyung was in the front seat, muttering, clothed only where it was necessary and in clothes that weren't his own.
They arrived and the two awake members hauled the others out of the van.
Hyung was eerie in the morning light. He looked like Lucifer, Jungkook thought, an angel that God surely loved. His blond hair was still perfectly styled, and his eyes were as kind as they ever were, but his smile was sharp, like a predator's.
"I'm sorry that we've been brats, hyung."
Jin's eyes softened and he wrapped his arms around Jungkook and rocked him side to side.
"Nothing to be sorry for, baby. I just forgot that I need more than music and dancing to live." Hyung's laughter reminded him of the wind chimes on his grandparents' porch.
"I just forgot that I'm not one of you guys."
Human, his brain logically supplied. It was wrong though, because hyung was one of them. Family.
He'd known that there was something different, special, about his hyung for a while now.
Jin was an excellent driver. There was a reason that management let him drive Jungkook and not the other hyungs. Nothing against them, but Hobi-hyung swerved like he was in a racing game and Namjoon-hyung once broke the car door just by trying to open it. Yoongi-hyung would rather murder the maknae than wake up every morning to drive him.
But people had their limits. It was a month into the new term before he saw the shadows. They were running late. Jungkook snoozed all three of his alarms, Jin had snoozed all five of his. Instead of breakfast, Jin grabbed a Chocopie for both of them. Either Namjoon or Yoongi used the last of the coffee beans and hadn't told anyone that they were out.
Jin was damning them so hard that Jungkook feared that he was secretly uttering a curse.
Oh no. Hyung was spitting fire at him now.
"IF I GET ONE MORE CALL-!"
He quietly gathered his bag and books and made his way to the car.
"-4/100 THEY TOLD ME!"
Not that damn math test again! It was one time!
"NOT MY CHILD, I SAID! H-"
The engine roared to life.
"-MUST HAVE INHERITED MY BRAINS, THEY SAID!"
Jungkook buried his head in his hands.
"WEH?! JUST BECAUSE NAMJOONIE HAS AN IQ OF 148 DOESN'T EXCUSE THE FACT THAT HE CUT AN ONION WITH THE FLAT SIDE UP!"
Only twenty more minutes until they arrived. He was counting the seconds.
He knew that the headmaster said that he didn't care about idol status, but was it too hard to turn on the tv once in a while? How could he mistake Jin-hyung for Jungkook's actual parent!?
Sure, most groups had managers or actual parents drive teenage idols to school, and sure, most managers didn't kiss their charges on the cheek, but still! He didn't look that young, and hyung didn't look that old!
Screech!!!
Jin slammed on the brakes as a car cut in front of him. Jungkook's head flew forward, but he didn't hear the tell-tale crunch of an accident. He breathed easier.
It was quiet in the car.
Jungkook looked up nervously. He expected Jin to renew his cussing or for him to honk the holy hell out of car in front, but it was quiet. And dark.
Shadows spread from the front seat, swept through the car like exaggerations of the tinted windows. It was dark and cold; he could see his breath. He wondered what the cars around them saw. Did the shadows blend with the black paint? Were they suddenly demoted to one of those d-bags with a matte paint job?
Should he... should he say something?
Hyung looked like he was half a second from tailing the car in front, running them down, and burying the bodies.
"We don't have time for murder, hyung," he blurted out. Better to nip any thoughts of murder until Jungkook was in school; if he missed another day, Jin would get another call and this would happen all over again.
"Are you ok, Kookie?"
He nodded, but Jin avoided his eyes in the rear mirror so he said his affirmative out loud.
There was a glint of gold in the mirror.
"Are... are you okay, hyung?" he asked cautiously.
"Peachy."
Jungkook shivered from cold, but was too nervous to ask Jin to turn up the heat.
They arrived, and Jungkook stood awkwardly outside the car, waiting for his customary hug/kiss. He was about to head inside when the door opened. Hyung avoided his eyes, but he could see that they were still gold. The shadows from the car still clung to the man, but they blended well with the navy blue sweatshirt hyung threw on that morning.
Jin-hyung hugged him tightly. His hand pressed Jungkook's head closer towards his chest, and the maknae was basically being cradled in his school parking lot. His classmates were going to tease him. Again.
Hyung's head was buried in his hair, and he was embarrassed that he may have forgotten to wash his hair last night.
"Are you really okay?" Jin asked again. Jungkook felt the tremor in the older boy's arms, and he hugged back twice as fiercely.
"Yeah. I had you to protect me, hyung. Thanks."
It happened again. Not that mess of no breakfast/coffee/sleep, but people being awful drivers at ass o'clock in the morning. The shadows never wrapped around the car in a makeshift shield again, but sometimes there were small horns atop hyung's hair. They were cute.
Sometimes, when people cut them off or traffic was just especially congested, the temperature dropped.
Jungkook didn't know if anyone noticed the blanket he hid in the car. He thought about telling hyung that he knew that there was something supernatural about him, but he was afraid that hyung would start trying to hide his horns instead of letting them out; Jungkook didn't mind.
It felt good to be able to keep this secret for his hyung, to do anything to repay him.
It was his birthday.
Jungkook stared at the array of food that his hyung spent hours cooking and wanted to cry. He'd never done anything to deserve this.
Hyung was passed out on the couch, exhaustion written on his face, and shadows covered his exposed shoulders. Jungkook took a cautious step forward, but the dark mass remained still. He pulled up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and kissed the blond head.
He remained on the floor, playing his DS. He caught another dratini before he realized that Jin-hyung was watching him.
"Happy birthday, JK."
"Thanks, hyung."
The supernatural freaked Hoseok out. Like. A lot. His first thought when he saw dark antlers sprouting from Jin's head like a demon was that it was a prank. Demons were ugly creatures with sharp teeth and claws and warts and scars and-
-and everything Jinnie-hyung wasn't. Even if a priest told him otherwise, even if he threw holy water on the older boy and it burned, Hoseok would have sworn that Jin wasn't a demon. Not the same Jin-hyung who spent a whole day learning how to make dumpling skins so that they could have homemade dumplings that fit into their diets, not the Jin-hyung who cried over a Mario plushie Tae bought for him on his birthday. Not. That. Hyung,
Conversely, if they said that it was Yoongi-hyung who was a demon, Hobi would have accepted that in a second; he'd always suspected.
But no. Jin had antlers on his head and shadows curled around his fingers like claws. The dorm was frigid, frost detailing the windows. A sasaeng fan dangled by the door, choking and pleading, but Jin squeezed tighter. His head was tilted so that he could whisper into the man's ears, his empty, clawed hand stroking the man's torso. It looked more like the group interrupted a make-out session more than an interrogration.
No one knew how the two got in; a pair, boyfriend and girlfriend. The girl sobbed off to the side; Yoongi kept a hand on her shoulder to keep her there. Manager-hyung furiously argued on the phone. Namjoon deleted pictures on her camera. Jungkook exited his room, dressed in extra layers after the pair rushed in while he was showering.
Jin shook with rage. Taehyung calmed a hysterical Jimin who seemed more afraid of his hyung than of having their little sliver of privacy destroyed. Hoseok felt Namjoon's eyes on him. The leader had his lips pursed, but switched his gaze to Jin after the dancer gave no intention of bolting.
Jin dropped the man, whose legs seems to have lost their strength.
"I have all the information I need, Joonie." Jin said sweetly. The way he tilted his head backwards was anything but angelic.
"Is there... is there anything you can do?"
Jin laughed, melodic like bells ringing and it was the first time that Hobi akinned them to death bells.
"I don't have that kind of power, Joonie."
"You have the most useless powers, hyung!" he heard Tae tease from across the room.
"What can you do?" he asked.
"Why don't we let management deal with them, hm?" On cue, a knock echoed through the dorm.
"Sejin-hyung, it's for you."
The two were taken away, possibly to the police station.
"Hyung, your horns are out."
"You blind? They're antlers."
"I think you'd look cuter with hamster ears," Tae added.
Hobi looked around. Only Jimin and he were fearful.
"How long have you guys known?"
Tae looked at Yoongi and Namjoon; the leader looked towards Yoongi, and everyone was confused as to when Jungkook found out.
The maknae shrugged.
"Hyung isn't always all that awake in the morning." That was fair.
"I met hyung in the underground."
The group startled.
"Before BigHit?"
Yoongi nodded.
"Before."
Oh. Hobi hadn't expected that. No one must have expected that either because they were all gaping.
"That's why you're so adamant on calling him hyung when he first joined!" Tae laughed.
Yoongi shrugged. Hobi couldn't argue with that logic; even a rebellious teen Min Yoongi must have had some self-preservation.
Namjoon nodded like the two eldest's relationship suddenly made sense.
"I found out... right before our first performance," the leader volunteered.
He held something back; Hoseok could tell.
And... and maybe because it was the first real black mark on his time as an idol that he vividly remembered that one manager. The one who made sure to leave bruises in places where no one else could see. The one who hurt them all, but still Jin-hyung kept taking the blame and punishment.
And then, after taking one such punishment right before their debut stage, that manager was hospitalized.
Namjoon must have known then, that their hyung was involved. He had to have suspected, had asked, had confirmed.
But the boy let it slide; hadn't reported foul play to the police or shied away from their hyung. Namjoon pretended that nothing had changed, and maybe it hadn't. Maybe being a demon wasn't much different from being from Busan or Ilsan or Seoul.
"It was obvious, wasn't it?" Taehyung interrupted his thoughts. No, it wasn't obvious, but the boy tended to notice details that no one else ever saw.
"So what can you do?" Jimin asked.
The others looked curious too.
Jin shrugged.
"Nothing much. I haven't been a demon for long. Shadows, sex, fear."
Hoseok snorted.
"Yoongi-hyung has all three of those too."
Jin cracked a smile.
"Yeah. I thought that he was a demon too when I first met him."
Yoongi gave a gummy smile.
"I was fifteen, hyung."
"Cute as a button. Shadows under his eyes like a zombie."
"How did hyung look~" Tae flopped over the back of the couch and gave a puppy dog smile.
Yoongi fought a blush and looked away.
"I looked like sex on legs, thank you very much," Jin sighed happily. "Oh, all that leather and chains. I think I still own those red leather pants. I had to put them in storage to keep my idol image." Jin tapped his finger on his chin thoughtfully.
"Hyung, no," Yoongi groaned.
"Hyung, yes." The maknae line chorused back.
And that was that. The horns retreated slowly, the branches on the horns reverting to small stubs atop blond hair. Management called, told them to stay inside for the time being. Relax, if they could.
Bang PD-nim called Namjoon, who handed the phone to Jin. He stood up, grabbed his coat, and left.
He returned hours later, face grim. The shadows were uncontrollable around him. The maknaes didn't understand, but the rest of them did. Jin would do anything to keep BTS safe, even if he had to sacrifice the last of his humanity.
Knowing that hyung was a demon didn't change anything; he was still bad at dancing. Hyung still stumbled over his feet, still spent hours practicing singing and dancing, still paid when they went out because it was his responsibility as a hyung. They were a little more free with each other now. Jimin pet Jin's horns when they were out, and Taehyung begged Jin to stop making the food so spicy because it was literal hell, and all in all, no one minded.
Jin may be a demon, but he was family.
Jimin went to visit a priest that was recommended to him by the one in his hometown. He wasn't overtly religious, but going made his mother happy.
The man practiced in a small church hidden inside of a commerical building. It was quite modern of him.
"I guess I got it wrong this time too," he heard a familar voice say.
"I was so sure too!"
Jimin walked past the door. Jin-hyung was sprawled in front of the pulpit, laying on the priest's lap.
"It's only been a few years. You have time."
"Hyosang-ah~"
The priest was nearing 80 and it was weird to hear the familiarity between the two.
"You'll find your family one day, and then you'll be able to grow old and tired like me."
A beat of silence.
"You were supposed to be my family."
Oh. Oh. That hurt. Jimin couldn't imagine hyung with a life before them, especially since Bangtan was all he had since he became a trainee.
"We are, just not the kind that your little demon curse wants," the priest soothed.
"I can't do this again, not after you," Jin sobbed.
Jimin couldn't imagine it; living forever young. He couldn't imagine watching his friends age and not be able to relate, to pretend that his friends were his older siblings or cousins and speak formally to them. He couldn't imagine one day pretending that his friends were his parents' friends, his grandparents'. He couldn't imagine one day looking at BTS, at Tae or Hobi or anyone and having to pretend that the only relation they had was as priest and worshiper.
It explained the old man way of talking, though.
But Jimin also never wanted time to catch up with Jin-hyung, wanted him to stay beautiful and vain and young forever. He wanted to cradle Jin in his arms and tell him that no matter what this stupid curse said, they were family. Wanted to joke that BTS was just looking out for their hyung, that they didn't want to hear hyung scream after finding his first gray hair, didn't want to hear about the wrinkles the man will surely have with how much he smiled. He didn't know how to tell him that they wanted Jin to remain happy and beautiful and theirs, and a stupid demon curse meant nothing to their friendship.
He didn't know how to tell him that they've been family since the first time they met, that hyung just needed to be patient.
Jin screamed bloody murder one morning.
He found a white hair. White. Not blond.
This wasn't a case of strand-that-noona-forgot-to-dye; it was honest to god white at the roots.
Snuggled under his blankets, Jimin smiled.