Archive of Our Own

🌻

Sunday

Sunflowers, a peculiar little hybrid of magic and mundane, part café, part flower and herb shop—complete with its own greenhouse room—nestled on the edge of the massive nature park known as Seoul Forest. The shop seemed to grow from the earth and trees surrounding it (because it did), tucked in among the trunks and boughs of the park. Guests marveled at the sparkling café that led into a lichen-covered grotto surrounding a turquoise pool filled with lily and lotus plants. Jung Hoseok, the witch in charge, with a smile as welcoming as the sunshine after the rain, greeted one and all as the friends they might one day become.

The health and magic inspectors complimented the cleanliness of such a rugged establishment, what with its packed dirt floors and plants growing everywhere and the presence of Hoseok’s rather large familiar. Two years ago, Hoseok had been hired to handle floral and greenery arrangements at a fancy horse show. Mang had come to him in the unexpected form of a Falabella show horse named Sunshine’s Hope. The tiny mare had been far more interested in the young witch than the event, and her embarrassed American owner had been willing to part with the horse for a modest fee of a six-month supply of Hoseok’s special ProsperiTea blend.

The American was making quite a name for herself in the business these days, though she got a little fuzzy on the details when asked about the turning point in her fortunes. Magic was funny that way. The people who benefited the most from it remembered the least of it. But the costly tea (both in ingredients and magic) was a small price to pay for his little love, who didn’t seem to miss her former owner too much.

Mang brought a joy to his life he hadn’t known was missing until she danced into it. Most people saw her as a Great Dane, but that was just a bit of magical glamour, as Hoseok really wasn’t sure about city ordinances and horses. Even tiny ones like Mang. Though the glamour was for Mang’s safety, her occasional melancholy resonated through their bond and Hoseok couldn’t help his own accompanying sadness.

All in all, Hoseok loved his life and, at twenty-six years old, he’d done pretty well for himself. He was a certified Practitioner of green witchcraft and might even reach Adept status by the time he turned thirty, no small accomplishment for a boy whose parents never rose beyond the Neophyte level. Hoseok couldn’t wait for the day when he took on a student of his own, could just imagine their presence helping to fill the empty spaces of both the shop and their hearts.

Hoseok was an extrovert to the core and people made him happy, but for all the friendly and familiar faces who visited them, no one seemed inclined to stay. They had their regulars, of course, witches and supernaturals and everyday people alike. People who came for the magical coffees and teas as often as the regular brews, to pick up some herbs for dinner, some flowers for a sweetheart (his blooms stayed fresh the longest, or so he’d heard), or maybe a new plant for the garden. And those people made wonderful, bright pockets of time filled with smiles and familiar faces and orders, but eventually they almost all asked for something more. Something beyond the regular offerings. Something they wanted. Money. Power. Fame. Love. Recognition. Revenge.

And Hoseok helped where he could because that was a witch’s work. He sometimes chose not to give a patron exactly what they asked for. Sometimes he saw too much pain and heartbreak attached to the request, sometimes too little in the way of ethics. In those cases, a simple draught of ObscuriTea (a blissful blend of chai and cream) or a Blind Eye (two shots of espresso served hot with warmed coconut milk), each blended with a forgetfulness charm, did the trick. The customer would leave with a regular batch of unmarked coffee or tea and by the next day, they’d forget all about Sunflowers and Hoseok.

Almost everyone who asked Hoseok for big magic never found him again.

Big magic was funny that way.

Still, there were the familiar faces—the favorite faces who never asked for anything more than an All Day Caffe—to get them through the day. He just wanted someone, maybe more than one, to stay.

There was Kim Seokjin, the chef who looked more like a leading man, and his bubbly front-of-house manager, Park Jimin. The museum curator, Kim Namjoon, with his artsy friends, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk. The composer, Min Yoongi, who came to get away from people, always claiming a table in the café’s shady grotto. The businessman, Bang Sihyuk, and his tree-tall bodyguard, Kim Sejin, who stopped in once or twice a week to escape the hustle and bustle. They were all dear to Hoseok, though if he had to pick favorites…he could.

He bagged up a fresh batch of Lovers’ Tea, smiling to himself.

Namjoon, with his blazing intelligence shining behind shy eyes, and his careful hands that were endearingly confused by the breakability of the world around them. Hoseok had taken to slipping a bit of coordination and grace into his morning coffee, if only to protect his own shop from random acts of chaos and destruction. The tiny expenditure of magic was absolutely worth it for visits with Namjoon’s curious mind and dimpled smiles.

Seokjin, with his effortless warmth and ridiculous laughter. Hoseok had seen a definite uptick in business when he’d started carrying Hoseok’s coffee and tea blends in his restaurant. The chef loved to discuss the ingredients in each, sniffing and tasting everything, seeing what he could discern from those senses first. And he had the most wonderful habit of testing new dessert recipes in Hoseok Feeding Range. Hoseok was certain he’d gained a few kilograms, but the occasional stress on his waistband was worth it.

Yoongi usually came towards the end of the day, with his rare grins and a passion for iced Americanos. They’d sat down the other day over coffee and cakes, Yoongi offering Hoseok a listen to the symphony—symphony!—he’d recently completed. They talked music and what Hoseok played for his plants, Yoongi fascinated by what they seemed to like, dissecting frequencies and rhythms in search of creating the perfect Plant Life Playlist. He’d tested some sort of lo-fi hip hop on Hoseok’s yarrow plants and the next morning they’d been in full bloom.

Yes, any combination of those three definitely made Hoseok’s day. Mang perked up for them, too, and he considered her an excellent judge of character. He tried hard not to get too attached, though. Either they would move on with their lives and forget about the little café in the forest, or they would ask for something more…and forget about the little café in the forest.

Until then, he’d zealously enjoy the moments he shared with them, hoping the end came later, rather than sooner.

The Sunday afternoon wound down, the café closing a bit earlier than during the rest of the week. The autumn sun still lingered in the sky as Hoseok locked up and headed to the back of the shop, Mang at his heels, eager to be home. Run! Play! Mang’s excitement bounced along their connection as Hoseok whispered the words to unlock the portal, sliding wide the green barn door that opened into their own wild corner of the world.

A kinetic witch had created this gateway for him, a thank you after Hoseok’s brews helped her wife through a troublesome and risky pregnancy. It turned the miles and miles between the downtown shop in Seoul and the cottage in the hills into a single step. Mang bounded out, running and bucking her way through the grassy field climbing up to their home. The sun-warmed air edged toward chilly with the approaching evening, and Hoseok tipped his face to the fading glow of the afternoon sun.

Don’t stay out too long, he sent to Mang. I’ll have dinner ready soon, and we have another batch of CuriousiTea to spell.

Back to school, back to school. Mang’s head dipped down and up in an exaggerated nod. Study, learn, grow.

That’s right, baby. He chuckled. Most students never learned about their parents’ desperation to turn around a sagging academic career. The tea didn’t perform miracles, but it did engage the brain’s natural curiosity and desire to learn.

Play a little, she promised. Love my Seokie.

I love you, too, sweet girl.

🌻

Monday

“Welcome to Sunflowers Café!” Hoseok called the greeting by rote as the chimes above the door sang out the arrival of a Monday morning customer.

“Yah, Hoseok-ssi. It’s too early for so much sunshine.” The voice, low and growly and unexpected this early in the day, only turned up the wattage on Hoseok’s smile. “Min Yoongi-ssi!”

Petite, almost delicate, in slim black jeans and an oversized white pullover. Big feet and hands—Nature, his hands were pretty—just a bit outsized for his slight frame. He yawned and ran long fingers through his auburn hair.

“You’re early today, Yoongi-ssi. One iced Americano coming right up to chase away the morning fog.”

He grabbed a portafilter and headed to the espresso beans. Flipping the grinder on, he hummed and swayed as freshly ground coffee scented the air around him. He packed the grounds with a mortar and sidestepped to the espresso machine, slotting the portafilter into place. With the push of a button, liquid gold began to fill the small ceramic cup beneath it.

The bells chimed again and a bright whinny filled the air. Hoseok turned to see his familiar bouncing excitedly by the doorway. Mang’s dappled Appaloosa markings quivered as a flat palm was presented below her nose. Hoseok couldn’t see fully, but Mang’s joy shimmered through their bond. Impressions of sweet, juicy, and crunchy followed.

Hoseok’s curiosity got the better of him and he shifted to better see the café entrance.

“Namjoon-ssi?” His mouth dropped open in surprise as he watched the man feed Mang apple slices. A salmon colored button up hung open over a black—dear Nature, was that a tank top? Chains of beads and knotted twine dangled around his neck, and a floppy straw hat covered most of his honey blonde hair. “Not working today, Namjoon-ssi?”

Two of his favorites. In the shop at the same time.

Mother Nature.

“Everyone needs a holiday now and then,” Namjoon said. He slanted a glance toward Hoseok. “When’s yours?”

“Huh?” He blinked. “My—what?”

“I have yet to understand why some of your customers bring her dog treats?” Namjoon went right on by Hoseok’s shock, ruffling Mang’s forelock and up to gently rub her ears. Mang huffed, one hoof clomping softly against the earthen floor. “A Falabella doesn’t look like a dog. What do they see that I don’t, hm?”

Namjoon not only saw through the glamour on Mang, but he even knew her breed?

Hoseok should not find that so endearing and sexy. Honestly. He needed no more reasons to find Kim Namjoon endearing and sexy.

Just having two of his favorites in the store at the same time required his full concentration if he didn’t want to do something dumb. Namjoon and Yoongi standing only meters away from each other brought him uncomfortably face-to-face with warm feelings buzzing inside him. Feelings he’d successfully denied until he had to decide which one to look at and pay attention to first. He—he liked them.

Both of them.

Oh, green gooseberries.

“Hope the apples are okay. I was going to ask first, but your girl here sniffed them out.” Namjoon fed the last of the apple slices to Mang, brushing his empty hands against silvery slacks that absolutely should not have apple bits and horse slobber rubbed over them. “Thought Mang deserved better.”

The tiny horse butted her head happily against Namjoon’s hip, drawing a husky laugh from the man that turned Hoseok’s knees to putty.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, that’s—thank you.”

He smiled. Maybe too big and too bright, but he just didn’t meet enough wonderful people like Namjoon.

A clearing throat at the counter drew Hoseok’s attention back to equally wonderful Yoongi, waiting for his Americano with a curiously secretive smile curving the outer edges of his lips. Silently calling Hoseok out for lusting after Namjoon? Yoongi’s feline eyes narrowed, all dark and knowing. He leaned on the counter and fiddled with his silver adorned earlobe, pitched his voice low. For Hoseok’s ears only.

“What’s a guy gotta do to coax that Americano out of you, Sunshine?”

“S-s-sun—” Hoseok didn’t swallow his tongue. But he maybe choked on his own breath. “Yoongi-ssi, I-I-I—”

“Just one Americano,” Yoongi said. He glanced over his shoulder as Hoseok hurriedly pulled a fresh shot of espresso and completed Yoongi’s drink. His brain tripped over itself as Yoongi said, “Joon-ah, what do you want?”

Joon…ah? That was very. Comfortable.

Hoseok sat the iced Americano in front of Yoongi with shaking hands. The small man didn’t even look, yet his cool hand covered Hoseok’s for a split second. He jolted from the unexpected touch. Long fingers cupped his wrist, as though to soothe, then disappeared to pick up the Americano.

“Iced caramel for me and iced vanilla for Jin-hyung.”

Jin…hyung? Hoseok’s stomach turned upside down.

As in—

“Good morning, good morning!” Seokjin sailed through the door like a model or actor arriving for a shoot. Hoseok wondered that some stray breeze didn’t sneak inside to artfully muss the gorgeous man’s currently pale blonde hair. “Good morning, Mang, you gorgeous beast. Did you enjoy your treat, baby?”

Oh. Seokjin knew about Mang, too.

Mang pranced.

His poor baby girl was so excited to just be noticed. Most guests gave her a wide berth, even the ones who thought she was just a big dog. But here were their three favorite people, all at once, apparently together, and doting on Mang. Except for Yoongi, who patted Hoseok’s hand again.

“Right,” Hoseok squeaked. He focused on the work, letting the rhythm of familiarity lull his overloaded brain. By the time he turned back to the counter, all three men stood there, chatting quietly among themselves. “Here we go, gents. One iced caramel and one iced vanilla with a splash of coconut milk.”

“Ah, Hoseok-ssi.” Seokjin smiled so bright it almost hurt, his added presence doing nothing to settle the butterflies waging guerilla warfare in Hoseok’s stomach. Seokjin gave an exaggerated wink. “Finally a man who knows what I like.”

Yoongi snorted at that. Namjoon rolled his eyes and faced Hoseok.

“I didn’t realize you all know each other.” There. That sounded like a semi-normal thing to say. Or maybe it sounded like he paid attention to who they arrived with. Which maybe sounded weird and stalkerish?

“School,” Yoongi offered. “We were all art majors in one form or another.”

“Ah, that’s…nice. You’re lucky to make friends like that.” Lucky to make friends. Why wasn’t Witch College a thing, anyway? He was smart enough. He could be odd couple friends with some broody necromancer and besties with a hearth witch who spent half their time cooking up magical desserts in Hoseok’s commercial kitchen.

He thought maybe he imagined the slight squeeze of Yoongi’s fingers around his own, because when he looked, Yoongi’s hand rested several polite centimeters away.

“Hoseok-ssi, do you have a moment?”

Well. That didn’t sound foreboding at all. No sir.

“Yeah, of course, Yoongi-ssi.” He made a show of wiping down the counter. Mang’s worry shivered between them, his familiar easily sensing his agitation. He heard the snap of her tail, the restless stomp of a hoof. “What’s up?”

“Let’s grab a table. In case anyone else comes in,” Yoongi said. “It’s nothing urgent, I promise. Just—we’d like to ask this privately.”

Ah. Here it was.

Not later. Much, much sooner than he could have imagined.

His favorites finally wanted a favor. Hoseok followed them blindly, taking the seat left open next to Seokjin. Gathering his courage, he pasted a smile on his face and lifted his head.

“So—ah—” Namjoon’s immediate stammer made Hoseok’s heart thud heavily in his chest. “We understand you have a different sort of menu?”

The disappointment weighed so heavy in him.

“Do you?” Yoongi asked.

“A—magical menu?” Namjoon finished.

Of course they’d found out. It wasn’t advertised, but it wasn’t a secret. Witches were a thing. Everyone knew that. Maybe you’d stumble across one or two in your life, maybe not. He’d hoped these three might never ask for something special. He leaned back. Smiled. At least he had one very nice collected moment to remember them by.

“Yeah, yeah.” Did he sound upbeat? Cheerful? “You understand right.”

Maybe not quite his usual, as Seokjin’s hand patted his shoulder.

“It’s nothing bad,” Seokjin said. “Really. We just—um—”

“We need some help with something. Maybe you can help, maybe you can’t.” Yoongi shook his head at the other two. “Some friends are in love and they need a bit of courage to confess.”

“A bit of magical liquid courage?” Seokjin added.

“And maybe there’s something to encourage an open mind?” Namjoon’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“You want to help your friends with a confession?”

“That’s right,” Seokjin said.

“I can’t make people fall in love, Seokjin-ssi.”

“No, no, no, they’re just—”

“Idiots,” Yoongi said, eyes on the table. “Scared.”

“Of rejection,” Namjoon said.

“I see.” That was—not a terrible request. Honestly, one of the sweetest he’d had recently. He might not even lose them over it. “I think I can help you.”

He mentally catalogued his ingredients. The Lovers’ Tea was a stock item, but he would need to add a little something extra for courage and to aid communication. It wasn’t precisely open-mindedness, but good communication was essential to establishing any relationship. He could just imagine falling in love—for example, with a chef, or a composer, or a curator, or…all three—and trying to sort out his own feelings, never mind figure out how to confess and interpret the feelings of the person or persons he confessed to.

“I’ll need a few hours to put it together. Can you come pick it up this evening?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Seokjin clapped his hands together. The trio made quick eye contact with one another. As one, they finally nodded. “We’ll see you tonight, Sunshine.”

🌻

They returned just before closing. He’d never seen them nervous before, but there was something off kilter in their energy tonight. Something jittery. Staticky. Seokjin led the way, Namjoon in the middle, and Yoongi slinking in at the rear. Namjoon looked around the empty café.

“No Mang tonight?”

“It’s almost closing. She’s gone home.”

“Oh.” He dug his hands into his pockets. He’d changed into jeans at some point, his overall look even more casual than Hoseok had seen this morning. His brows crinkled. “She went by herself?”

“We live just out the back door.” Curious glances darted between the trio and Hoseok dredged up a slight smile. “Magic things.”

“That’s—” Namjoon’s head angled, like the change in perspective might offer enlightenment. “That’s cool. I think.”

“With the way you drive, Joon-ah, acquiring a magic commuting pass should be your top goal in life,” Yoongi said.

Seokjin’s squeaky laugh filled the room as a ruddy shade of red filled Namjoon’s cheeks.

“Aish, why you gotta call me out like that? The wreck wasn’t actually my fault.”

“You’re just a destruction magnet,” Seokjin said.

“I’ve been better lately,” Namjoon said. “You know I have. I even managed to make ramen without burning anything.”

Hoseok’s smile slipped into something more genuine. Good to know those bits of magic he’d spent on Namjoon weren’t going to waste.

“I’m not sure if I should be proud,” Seokjin said, “or ashamed that the bar is set so low.”

“Hyu-ung.” Namjoon whined, and it was cuter than it had any right to be.

It was plain to see the ties of friendship and trust, the warm affection between them. They had a comfort and ease about them that spoke of months, maybe years of acquaintance. Hoseok acknowledged the kernel of envy banging about inside him. It wasn’t that he wanted what they had—he wouldn’t take this from anyone. No, he wanted to be part of what they had.

Nature, he was greedy.

But with no other distractions, there was something else in the air Hoseok had never picked up on around them. An otherness that thrummed low, barely discernible from their natural energies. Nothing strong enough for him to identify, but it twined around them, connecting them to one another.

Interesting. It didn’t feel like magic in the strictest sense. Perhaps they weren’t entirely human. He did a fair amount of business with the elven enclave that lived in the forest and a lovely naiad family who lived in the Han. Hoseok’s brow furrowed as he watched for a glimpse of pointed ears or gills.

“Kindly remember why we’re here.” Yoongi let out an aggrieved sigh. “We’re keeping Hoseok-ssi from going home, and the poor man looks exhausted.”

The cozy, teasing bubble burst with Yoongi’s well-intended chiding.

Right. They wanted the tea. Putting this together hadn’t been the easiest bit of magic he’d worked. Even Mang had tapped out afterward, going home early to sleep. He’d just…really wanted to get this right. Even though it probably meant he wouldn’t see them again.

So, the Lovers’ Tea base, a dash of Gotu kola to soothe anxiety and promote wisdom, orris root for charisma and persuasion. Plus, the magic. One part flavor, two parts purpose. All together it made for a sweetly spicy brew designed to open minds and hearts.

Hoseok lifted the basket he’d put together for them onto the counter. The biodegradable netting (in place of plastic) could be repurposed or disposed of easily. The tea was packed in an airtight tin to preserve freshness, flavor, and potency. He’d added a sleeve of spiced tea cookies that would complement the drink and selected the trio of teacups hidden in the straw from his sales stock. The pattern was his personal favorite—sun, moon, stars, and planets, all dancing along the watercolor blues of the cup—though he wasn’t sure why he’d picked it any more than he understood why he’d put three cups in rather than two or even all four. This magic brew didn’t seem to actually be for them, yet he kept imagining them keeping the cups for themselves. They would drink from them, and he would drink from the left behind fourth cup that completed the set, and he could pretend that they were having tea together, and he…was pathetic.

“Waaahhhh?” Seokjin’s mouth opened wide in surprise. “Hoseok-ssi? Why—it’s—aish, why is it so pretty?”

“Oh—um—” Hoseok scratched his head. Had he offended them? “I—I’m sorry?”

“He just doesn’t want to ruin the presentation,” Namjoon said with a laugh. “This is unexpected, Hoseok-ssi. I’m not sure the recipients deserve it.”

“They absolutely do not.” Yoongi chuckled. Rolled his eyes. “They’re fucking idiots.”

“Yah.” Seokjin nudged Yoongi, sending the smaller man stumbling. “They do so deserve it. Consider it a sign that Hoseok-ssi wants this to be successful, yeah? This beautiful basket is showing his support for our endeavor to bring hearts—and bodies—together.”

Yoongi’s eyes popped wide, the tips of his ears turning red. Seokjin just let loose another mad giggle. Hoseok almost laughed along with him. So sweet of Yoongi to help his friends, even though he was clearly not comfortable with the lustier implications of getting these people together.

“Let me explain how this works, okay?” All three went silent, focused on him with rather unnerving intensity. Perhaps they didn’t want to miscommunicate the instructions to their friends. “I wrote everything down, too. The instructions are in the basket. I just feel better going over everything up front.”

They nodded in watchful silence.

“This is basically the ‘deluxe plan.’ A seven-day course. I wasn’t sure how many friends—I’m sorry I forgot to ask that part and didn’t have any way to contact you. So I made enough for three.”

“Well.” Seokjin rolled his lips inward, a cutely nervous gesture that made Hoseok wonder if he was one of the ones who needed help with his confession. And damn if that thought didn’t hurt. “Three is exactly the right number.”

Oh. They were in love. With people who were not him. Obviously.

And that was totally okay. Cool. Expected, even. Why would his favorite people be in love with him? Why would anyone be in love with him? He was just the guy with the coffee and flowers, and that was already a weird combination. Added to that, he never stayed in the city much, so it wasn’t like he was making friends or going on dates.

Hoseok left the shop for a patch of empty land in the middle of nowhere. He went home to a tiny horse and a very pretty, but lonely cottagecore life that probably wasn’t of any interest to these big city boys. Maybe he should get a little apartment out here. Try mingling with people for more than his livelihood.

“Hoseok-ssi?” Seokjin pulled him out of his internal brainwreck.

“Right. Sorry.” Three people in love. Three people needing to confess. “Okay, we’ll start with the negatives.”

“The negatives?” Namjoon asked with a chuckle. “That’s not the most hopeful outlook.”

“Positives are for what the tea will do. Negatives are for what it won’t do.” Hoseok hated that he kind of hated the lucky people who’d claimed their affections. “Don’t try to use this to get laid. If your…friends are just looking for a good time, this will backfire. And it won’t be pretty.”

“But—” Namjoon’s eyes widened. “I mean—”

“The heart of this magic is rooted in love, which is very distinct from lust. They both build on attraction, but toward different goals. Sorry to say, if you’re just looking to get your rocks off—”

“Just?” Namjoon perked up, stumbling over his words. “Oh. No, definitely not. W—t-they like—um—them.”

Yoongi slapped him in the back of the head.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Namjoon muttered. “Sorry, hyung.”

Hoseok’s gaze darted between the pair, trying to read between the lines of what they were saying. Namjoon was clearly hiding something, which made Hoseok nervous about the spell.

“Magic can’t make people fall in love from nothing,” he went on, “but it can absolutely build on a budding connection. So your…friends will feel more confident in expressing their attraction as well as in believing in reciprocal attraction.”

“So—” Seokjin spoke up, his throat working around whatever he wanted to say. “If the recipient of the confession doesn’t feel the same—”

“It isn’t quite so black and white, Seokjin-ssi.” He smiled. “If there’s any attraction at all, the spell will do its job to bring it out into the open. If not, it may still open doors that someone never thought to open. That’s all I can promise. But that’s also why I’m giving you the seven-day supply. If anything at all exists for the magic to connect to, it will.”

“And if the seven days go by with nothing?” Yoongi’s fingers drummed the counter.

“Then the parties involved aren’t connected by attraction. And definitely not by love. Not even a little bit.”

“Do they all need to drink it?” Seokjin asked.

“Well, if both sides would drink it, they wouldn’t need the tea, right? The confession would already be out there.”

The trio glanced between one another.

“Aish,” Seokjin said. “Okay. Dumb question.”

“Once they begin to convey how they feel, that’s when the spell will really go to work to grow the possible bond.”

“Grow.” Namjoon hummed, his dimples winking. “Apropos of green witchcraft.”

“Well.” Hoseok’s cheeks warmed. “My magic is built around the things I actually grow, so…”

“I like it. It’s very natural and organic.” Namjoon’s open appreciation for Hoseok’s plants and flowers always made him feel so good. “So this tea itself. You grew the plants that went into it?”

“Of course.”

“Wah, that’s impressive.”

Seokjin leaned into Namjoon and whispered something Hoseok couldn’t make out.

“Fine, fine,” Namjoon grumbled. “But there will be a later.”

“Yes, later. But, now.” Seokjin pulled out his wallet. “Hoseok-ssi, how much do we owe you for this work of art?”

“One hundred thousand won.” The price earned him a trio of stink-eyed stares. “Ah, um—I—it’s rather reasonable—I even gave you the customer loyalty discount—”

“Hoseok-ssi.” Seokjin’s cool tone froze the words in Hoseok’s throat. “I am not complaining that this is too expensive. Quite the opposite.”

“You want to pay…more?” He frowned at that.

“I tell you what.” Seokjin handed his credit card over. “I’ll leave it in the tip.”

Hoseok accepted the card with a slight bow of thanks and quickly ran it. Seokjin filled in the charge slip and turned it face down.

“Let it be a surprise,” he said with a wink. “We’ll see you soon, okay?”

You probably won’t, though.

“I’ll be here.” Well, maybe he’d get another day or two. Before they knew the spell worked. Before they wanted more. Or the spell didn’t work, and they decided they’d been duped and wanted to take that out on Hoseok. Either way, they’d be gone from his life forever soon.

Nothing could have surprised Hoseok more than Yoongi leaning across the counter to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you, Seok-ah,” he murmured, the sudden shift to casual language making Hoseok’s whole body burn. Yoongi’s pale cheeks glowed with a pink blush, his dark eyes catching amber in the overhead lighting as he stepped back. “See you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t until long after they disappeared into the night that Hoseok remembered the credit card slip. He turned the paper over, legs going rubbery as he read the total Seokjin signed off on with a smiley face.

₩ 1,000,000.

Hoseok sank down to the floor behind the counter, wondering what the hell his life had become in less than twelve hours. Wondered how long he would wish they had wanted that tea to confess to him.

🌻

Tuesday

Hoseok’s alarm woke him before dawn on Tuesday. The café had turned him into a twice-a-day shower person—in the morning to wake him up and soothe the overnight stiffened muscles, in the evening to wash away the sweat and dirt and clingy aromas of Mang and coffee. After a brief but intense war with his desire to say to hell with adulting, he climbed out of bed. He fed a sleepy Mang first, her greeting whicker welcoming him into the barn. She bumped her head against his belly, sighing and shifting in lazy pleasure as he gave her a quick brushing.

By the time he showered and dressed and headed back to the stable to collect Mang for the short walk to work, the sky hinted at the coming day. They walked the trail side by side, a growing line of morning blush pushing up against the navy memories of the night on the horizon. The stars were brighter out here, away from the city, a waxing crescent moon rising in the sky just ahead of the sun.

“Do you think they’ll find their way back to us, Mang-ah?”

Mang’s head bobbed. She whinnied, her thoughts making him laugh. Her words ran together, with only brief pauses acting as any sort of punctuation.

Yes. Good boys. Nice boys. Apples for Mang-ah.

“Aish, you’re so easy, baby girl.” He reached out to tug lightly on her mane. “A pretty boy brings you apples and shows his dimples, and now he’s a good boy, huh?”

Mang-ah good girl. Apple boy cook boy song boy. Mang listed them off. Namjoon had been clumsy boy. He’d been upgraded. Good boys.

“I hope they’re good boys,” he said with a sigh. “I really hope.”

Mang nudged his hip, almost knocking him over.

Seokie good boy. Love Seokie. All good boys happy. Happy with Mang-ah.

“Anyone would be happy with you, baby.”

Happy with Seokie too. All Mang-ah’s good boys.

Hoseok slid the door to the portal open, sincerely hoping he didn’t wind up having to mend two broken hearts if their favorites never came back. He stifled his worries with the morning routine, readying the café to open at seven AM sharp. The first few hours flew by, with both park visitors and nearby workers stopping in for morning caffeine boosts. A handful of people picked up some of the low-magic brews that he stocked. Several parents and students stopped in to pick up the CuriosiTea they’d finished batching last night. Two customers had more involved special requests, which Hoseok scheduled for appointments later in the week.

When he had a moment to breathe and glance at the clock, it was almost noon already.

The bells chimed. Looked like they were going to skip right over any lull in traffic and head straight into the afternoon pick-me-up rush.

“Good morning, Seok-ah.” The softened gravel greeting set butterflies soaring in Hoseok’s belly. Maybe those butterflies also danced for the informal name that had somehow carried over from yesterday.

“Ah, Yoongi-ssi.” The name came out somewhere between a whisper and a shout, squeaking a bit at the end. “Y-you’re back.”

“Didn’t I promise to see you soon?” Yoongi smiled, teeth poking out to bite into his lower lip.

“Yeah. You did.” Hoseok swallowed hard. Did he sound soft for Yoongi? Did he sound like a boy desperately in like? And wow, Yoongi looked so good today. He always looked good, but usually Hoseok could keep his response to that in check better. “Um…the usual?”

“Sounds perfect.” Yoongi’s smile grew into gummy delight. “The tea went over very well, I think.”

“Already?” Hoseok’s eyebrows shot up. “How did they take it?”

“With cream.”

He choked on a laugh. “No, no, I mean—you bought a magic tea to meddle in their love lives. They weren’t offended or anything?”

“Did you worry about that?” Yoongi tipped his head, regarding Hoseok with a soft fondness that had those butterflies taking a rollercoaster dive before soaring high again.

“I mean…a little. Yeah.”

“Too sweet,” Yoongi murmured.

“The…tea?”

“You, silly.” Then he moved on like he wasn’t turning Hoseok into mush with his casual words and affections. “Do you mind if I camp out a bit? The orchestra is in their final rehearsal today, and I really—I can’t be around them. I keep wanting to meddle and tweak and—and I just need to let it be done. They might actually kill me if I suggest any changes at this point.”

“Final rehearsal?” Hoseok almost knocked the espresso shot for Yoongi’s Americano over as he spun around. “Your symphony is being performed?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi’s earlobes, peeking out beneath the black beanie covering his hair, turned a delightful shade of pink to match the flush staining his porcelain cheeks. “Tomorrow night.”

“Yoongi-ssi, that’s amazing.” He hurriedly finished the drink and pressed it into Yoongi’s waiting hands. He cupped the other’s wrists. “Congratulations, I’m so, so happy for you.”

“Ah, Seok-ah.” Yoongi’s hands trembled, so Hoseok held on until he took a steadying breath. “You’re seriously too sweet, you know that?”

“If only,” he teased. He shocked himself as he opened his mouth again. And flat out flirted. “Then maybe someone would get addicted to the taste and decide they just couldn’t live without me.”

Oh, that was—that was—Jung Hoseok, what are you thinking?

He didn’t flirt. He never flirted. Flirting was a terrible long-term business strategy. He pined. He was a pining pro.

But Yoongi’s tiny smile only prodded the feeling inside him. He wanted to go back to holding those surprisingly long and broad hands. Hands to relentlessly take him apart and oh-so-sweetly piece him back together again. Hoseok gulped, a shiver snaking up his spine as Yoongi nodded, a little hum of something—agreement? humor? pity?—escaping his pretty lips.

“I’m certain at least one person feels that way about you,” Yoongi said.

Hoseok sighed, briefly entertaining that Yoongi, with his moonlight skin and rumbling purr of a voice, might be that one person.

“Speaking of the show tomorrow,” Yoongi said. He freed one hand from his drink, and it hovered above Hoseok’s, now resting on the counter. “I need a plus-one.”

Blunt fingertips skimmed down from his wrist to his knuckles, lifting only to return to the starting point, gliding over and over along Hoseok’s hand. Goosebumps climbed his bare forearms. Hoseok watched, mesmerized, as Yoongi’s fingers chased after them.

“Yoongi-ssi,” he whispered.

“I think it’s time you dropped the formalities, Seok-ah,” Yoongi said softly. “I’m a bit older, yeah? Hyung, then.”

“Hyung.” The word came out as barely a push of air.

“Yoongi-yah,” he went on. “When it’s just us.”

“Yoongi…yah.” Oh, Nature, that felt so good. Warm and intimate and—what the hell was happening to him?

“Mm,” the older hummed. “Yeah, I like that.”

Yoongi’s hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers meeting over Hoseok’s galloping pulse point.

“Be my plus one, Seok-ah?”

“I—um—I don’t really—I mean, yes. Yes.” He gave the answer in his heart before he tripped all over his words and made Yoongi think he didn’t want to be his plus one. “Just—”

“What is it, baby?” Yoongi’s smile lit up the whole world, Hoseok was certain.

Baby Seokie. Mang huffed in the distance, no doubt shamelessly listening in. Mang-ah said. Good boys happy. Good boys love Seokie.

Good boys love…him? Something must have shown in his expression, because Yoongi made a sound, soft and distressed, his other hand coming up to cup Hoseok’s cheek.

“Hoseok?”

“What do I wear?” he asked uncertainly.

“Is that what has you worried, Sunshine?” Yoongi smiled so hard his eyes turned into thin crescents. “Do you have a suit?”

“Um—no.” Shit. “It’s not really green witch couture. They don’t go so great with fertilizer and Mang hair.”

Mang snorted, taking insult he could feel pounding through their bond.

Yoongi snorted. “Fair enough.”

“Sorry, Yoongi-ss—ah, hyung.”

“Think you can squeeze in some time to go shopping after you close up?”

“Shopping?” Oh. Yeah, that was an option. He could afford a suit after that crazy tip they’d left last night. “Yeah, I could do that.”

“Good.” Yoongi picked up his Americano and Hoseok immediately missed the warmth of the elder’s touch. “Hyung’s treat. Don’t even think about paying.”

“H-hyung—”

“It’s already decided, Sunshine.”

As if backing him up, a crowd of six young office types piled into the store, the bells chiming wildly to announce them—and prevent him from further protesting.

“And…” Yoongi dug into his messenger bag and drew out a thumb drive. “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

 “The Plant Life Playlist.” He grinned, all bright and gummy. Hoseok’s heart thumped as Yoongi’s gaze moved over the greenery growing all through the café. “I hope they like it.”

Yoongi winked and made for the grotto.

“Talk to you later, baby.”

Baby. Ugh, it wasn’t fair for one word to upend his world.

🌻

Wednesday

Hoseok stood in front of the mirror on his bedroom door on Wednesday evening, wondering if indulging Yoongi’s softly murmured request—Let me choose?—might not have been a foolish decision. He styled his dark hair off his forehead with trembling hands, straightening the sleeves of the coat, smoothing creases he might be imagining in the slacks.

Red.

Yoongi had put him in a warm, undeniably eye-catching shade of red.

The suit had fit surprisingly well off the rack, and Hoseok could clearly remember the way Yoongi’s jaw had gone slack, eyes wide as he emerged from the dressing room in the bright suit, with a crisp cream dress shirt beneath the coat. The elder had come right up to him and flicked open the top two buttons of the shirt.

“No tie. Just like this.” Cool fingers brushed the revealed skin. “You—fuck. You look—”

“Like a stop sign?” Hoseok laughed.

“Like the cherry on top.” Yoongi slanted a heated look through his lashes, knuckles skimming along Hoseok’s collarbone. “Like strawberries and honey and cream. Edible.”

Hoseok’s face attempted to match the suit as he remembered the blatant appreciation in Yoongi’s gaze. That look had made Hoseok want to do…things. Whimper. Whine. Say yes to anything and everything the darkness in Yoongi’s eyes threatened. Promised.

And now he was going to spend an evening in the same suit, next to the same man.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Jung Hoseok?”

He drove the secondhand golf cart he’d picked up a few years ago—he didn’t particularly want the scent of sweat and exertion from the walk to the portal making him persona non grata at Yoongi’s premiere—and parked it inside the outbuilding holding the portal. He walked into the shop, fresh and clean and nervous as hell. The quiet of the shop soothed him with its familiar shadows and scents as he passed through and headed out the front door where Yoongi waited, a few minutes early.

“Now here’s a sight for sore eyes.” Yoongi’s rumble destroyed any sense of composure Hoseok thought he’d cobbled together. Yoongi in a black, sequined suit—Hoseok’s head emptied. “Man has no right looking so good in an untailored suit, but here you are.”

Hoseok fussed once more with the lay of the suit, tugging and shifting. Yoongi grabbed his hands.

“Stop. You look amazing,” he said. “Anyone with eyes is going to be insanely jealous of me tonight.”

“Jealous?”

“Mhm.” He tucked Hoseok’s hand around his elbow and led him toward the sleek black coupe waiting at the curb. “I have the prettiest boy in the room at my side.”

“Have you seen you?”

Yoongi chuckled and opened the passenger door and Hoseok settled into the buttery leather seat, mind a flustered mess. Just keep up, Jung Hoseok. Don’t embarrass Yoongi. Simple enough, right?

The concert hall greeted them in a whirlwind of color and sound, a pre-show meet and greet opening Hoseok’s eyes to some important facts about Min Yoongi.

Yoongi wasn’t an aspiring composer. He was successful. Like award winning and in-demand successful.

Yoongi got nervous before every debut. Whether it was a symphony like tonight, or a film premiere, or a pop comeback he’d composed.

Yoongi was kind and considerate of his overwhelmed plus one. Whenever Hoseok thought it might all be too much, there was Yoongi taking his hand or rubbing the small of his back—over his coat, like a gentleman—or brushing shoulders with him. Yoongi was a constant presence at his side.

Yoongi acted like introducing Jung Hoseok, owner of the tiny, unassuming Sunflowers Café, was a privilege. Hoseok felt his own shoulders square, his spine straightening, pride in his bearing as Yoongi talked about his favorite café in all of Korea.

“You keep talking up my café and you might have to fight someone for your favorite seat next time.”

“Shit. Just tell me how much you want for a monthly rental.”

“What?”

“I’m serious.” Yoongi’s hand squeezed Hoseok’s hip. “Tell me how much you want in monthly rent to keep that table on permanent reserve. Hell, charge me for the whole grotto.”

Hoseok’s loud laugh drew stares, but Yoongi only grinned as Hoseok wrapped him up in an impulsive hug.

“You keep coming around, hyung, and maybe I’ll magic a special spot just for you.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide with soft awe.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Not like tomorrow. That’s a lot of magic. Mang and I have to work up to it. But I suppose you’ll find out if you hang around long enough.”

“You say that like I’m leaving you, baby.” The words formed an icy lump in Hoseok’s heart, but Yoongi’s arms came around his waist, keeping the internal chill at bay. “I’m happy where I am, if it’s all the same to you.”

Yoongi led him to a private box with an incredible view of the stage. He didn’t hesitate to cuddle close in the darkness, flooding Hoseok’s senses. The slight weight pressed into his side, the chilled fingers slotted between his. Yoongi’s cologne, skin-warmed and clean. The sounds of the orchestra swelled to bursting, the emotional journey of Yoongi’s symphony surrounding them in a fantastic bubble removed from the real world.

So when Yoongi’s hand found his jaw, turned his face with the questing pressure of his fingers, Hoseok didn’t question it. He wanted to see the journey through to the end, and Yoongi leaning up to lay his lips against Hoseok’s didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility in this magic moment. Yoongi kept the kiss easy and sweet, a question rather than a demand. One Hoseok answered with a helpless sigh.

That moment didn’t vanish when the show ended, or when Yoongi drove him back to the shop. It didn’t end when Hoseok invited him in for a coffee before heading home. It didn’t end when Hoseok found himself on a bench seat, tugged astride Yoongi’s thighs, long hands tunneled into his hair and holding fast. The surprising strength in the smaller man made Hoseok weak, and he whined as Yoongi held him firm and simply stared.

“Hyung,” he whimpered. “What are you doing?”

“Basking in my Sunshine, baby.” Yoongi reeled him in, brushed a teasing sweep of lips along Hoseok’s jaw. He almost made a crack about the sunshine making things grow, gasping as Yoongi slowly rutted his hips up. “You’re so damn pretty, Seok-ah. I need to kiss you. All deep and filthy this time, okay?”

Hoseok leaned in, something defenseless and small caught in the mighty gravity of Yoongi. That must have been enough of an answer, because Yoongi’s teeth caught his lower lip and tugged until Hoseok’s mouth opened on a soft groan. Yoongi’s tongue swept inside, exploring lazily. Hoseok went limp, Yoongi’s responding growl burning through him like fire. He tipped his head back to suck in a breath, crying out as Yoongi’s mouth fastened over his exposed collarbone. He squirmed as Yoongi sucked hard, working the skin with teeth and tongue and lips until Hoseok was dizzy from the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Yoongi-yah,” he groaned.

Yoongi finally eased back, one hand slipping from Hoseok’s hair to rub at the mark he’d made. Hoseok opened his eyes, struggling to focus, lost in the way the lights seemed to make Yoongi’s eyes glow like amber.

“I want to paint you in red and purple, Seok-ah,” Yoongi said, voice low and rough. “Mark you all up so you never forget, never doubt.”

“Forget or doubt…what?”

“How much I want you.” Yoongi’s thumb pressed into the fresh bruise, drawing a panting moan from Hoseok. “Didn’t I tell you there was at least one person in this world addicted to you?”

“You can’t—I mean—I’m just—”

Yoongi’s hand clamped hard over his mouth, stifling his words with a squeak.

“That sounds like a sentence you do not want to finish, Seok-ah,” Yoongi warned. “Unless you want to end up over my knee getting that mean and self-hating thought beat out of you.”

How did the man make such a ridiculous statement sound so—

Hoseok’s eyes widened as the hand on his mouth slid around and down to smooth over his backside. He groaned as Yoongi’s fingers dug into the meat of his ass, the very tips dangerously close to the crease between the cheeks.

“Maybe I’ll fuck it out of you instead, hm?” Yoongi held him tight as he rutted up, a very obvious and large hardness pushing against him. “Split you open so slow, so easy. I don’t want to hurt my baby. I want to open him like a flower. Fill him up with cock and cum until there’s no room left for thoughts of I’m just anything.”

“Yoongi-yah,” he panted.

“You’re everything, Seok-ah,” Yoongi said. “You’ll see.”

Thoughts swirled in his mind, wrecked and displaced as Typhoon Yoongi swept through.

“But not tonight.” Yoongi’s lips traced the path of Hoseok’s jaw to his ear. “I’m going to say good night now, baby. I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

Hoseok gave in to the weakness sweeping through him and rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“O-okay, hyung.”

It took a few moments to gather themselves. A few more for Yoongi to be satisfied they’d both get home in one piece. He took his coffee to go with another kiss stolen before he headed for his car and disappeared into the night.

🌻

Thursday

Hoseok didn’t sleep like shit. Not after he jacked off twice in the shower, pushing himself over the edge with Yoongi’s remembered words, touches, and a sleepy-eyed bed selca—the promised text captioned with thinking of you. Sated, and maybe more than a little infatuated, he slept like a log, only waking when his alarm went off.

A soft rain held the sunrise at bay, blanketing the world in grays and blues, the homey petrichor rising from the earth surrounding him as he walked to the portal. It was one of his favorite scents, so rich and earthy. Mang stayed behind, cozy in the barn, with a promise to come once the storm pushed through. The path beneath his feet gave slightly as the soaking slowly softened the packed ground. Hoseok’s bright green umbrella kept him dry enough, and his thoughts of the past two days kept a smile on his face as he entered the shop.

Around midmorning, after dealing with a surprising Thursday rush, his energy started to flag. He brewed himself some Café Cubano, the bright red moka pot one of his favorite investments. Not many Koreans ordered the lightly sweet and syrupy coffee, but it was Hoseok’s preferred pick-me-up. The bells chimed and he looked toward the door, his tired smile getting an instant boost from the welcome sight of Namjoon.

“Morning, Seok-ah.” Namjoon dragged a hand through his hair, shaking loose a fine mist of rain silvering the honeyed strands.

“Namjoon-ssi.” Hoseok bit down on his bottom lip, his breath backing up in his lungs as Namjoon’s eyes focused on the motion. “I don’t usually see you on the Thursday.”

“Figured since the sunshine wasn’t coming to me, I’d seek out my own.” Namjoon went from gorgeous and vaguely intimidating to adorable with a dimpled grin and Hoseok thought he might be floating. “Besides, I’ve already gone two days without. I need a fix.”

“The coffee’s that good, hm?”

“The coffee is that good,” Namjoon agreed, “but the company is better.”

Was this—was Namjoon—flirting? The very morning after—after Yoongi? What was even happening here?

“Want to try something new today?” he offered as Namjoon approached the counter.

“Oh?” Namjoon’s dragon eyes narrowed, gaze darting between the moka pot and the demitasse cup in Hoseok’s hands.

“On the house.”

“As though you suggesting it isn’t temptation enough?”

Hoseok felt his ears burn.

“You didn’t look convinced.”

“Convince me then.” Namjoon’s low drawl made Hoseok’s stomach clench. There was something heavy and warm in Namjoon’s dark eyes, and he wondered that two men could make him feel so…fluttery. No, that wasn’t right. He knew damn well all three of them could make him feel this way, so—he wondered that Yoongi and Namjoon seemed to be doing so on purpose.

His hands weren’t quite steady as he set a cup in front of Namjoon, pouring the sweetened coffee. Namjoon gave an appreciative sniff before taking the first sip. His smile popped wide, those pretty dimples testing Hoseok’s self-control.

“Wow.” Namjoon hummed, cutely smacking his lips. “Why have I never had this before?”

“Tastes good, right?”

“Mhm. Probably not as good as you.”

“What?” He didn’t shriek. He did not shriek. Much.

Namjoon looked up from a forlorn study of his empty cup, eyes all innocent.

“What?”

“Not as good as…?”

“Brew.”

Hoseok frowned. “Brew?”

“Yep.” He eyed the red moka pot.

“What does that even mean?”

“Dunno.” Namjoon shrugged, convincing Hoseok he was completely bullshitting right now. “Is there more?”

Hoseok moved on autopilot to make another pot. He turned to give Namjoon hell and figure out whatever game he was playing, but he swallowed back his words as he watched Namjoon move through the otherwise empty café, collecting cups and trash Hoseok hadn’t yet cleared. He brought everything to the wash station, like he’d seen Hoseok do exactly this a hundred times. And maybe he had, because he picked up the bottle of cleaning spray and a clean wash towel, humming along with Yoongi’s Plant Life mixtape.

Hoseok finished making the coffee and set it on the counter as Namjoon returned from his cleaning expedition.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping.”

“But why?” He refilled Namjoon’s cup. “You have a job. Why are you doing mine?”

“You’re making me free coffee. It’s an exchange of goods and services.”

“Oh, you think this one is a freebie, too?”

Namjoon tugged his wallet from his back pocket, set a ₩10,000 note on the counter.

“Namjoon-ssi.” The other’s name came out as more plea than anything else.

“Don’t call me formally, Hoseokie.”

He jolted at the softly voiced request.

“We’re same year friends,” Namjoon went on, his fingers drumming lightly on the counter.

“W-we are? How do you—”

“I shamelessly stalked your social media.”

“Ah. Right.”

“Same year friends.” Namjoon grinned.

“Same year.” Hoseok nodded, like being same year friends in any way explained the weighty disappointment of being friend-zoned immediately after being called so affectionately. Intimately. “Right. Namjoon-ah, then.”

Okay, what in the hell was going on here? He’d gone from politely crushing to shamelessly lusting after both Yoongi and Namjoon. He worried about spontaneously combusting if Seokjin suddenly walked through the door to put the final nail in his crush coffin. Worried that something must definitely be wrong with him for—

Namjoon reached out and brushed the hair back from Hoseok’s forehead, and his brain stuttered to a confused halt.

“Namjoon-ah.” His eyelids drooped as Namjoon kept combing long fingers through his hair.

“Or Joon. Joon-ah. Joonie.” Namjoon’s hand on him felt—like Yoongi’s. “That tea is working really well.”

“Huh?” He breathed deep, Namjoon’s scent of rain and sandalwood filling him like a drug. “The tea?”

“Yeah. Beyond our wildest hopes.”

“Oh, that’s good. Nice.” The gentle strokes made him dumb, but in some distant corner of his skull his brain cranked back to life. “Oh. The tea.”

Namjoon drew back with a low chuckle, moving to the wash station to rinse cups and silverware for the dishwasher.

“I’m so glad.” Hoseok fake-smiled as the Namjoon-induced haze burned off.

“Are you?”

“Of course. You should be, too. You did something very kind for your friends.”

Obviously, the magic thought so, too, seeing as Yoongi and Namjoon had come back. But he must have been wrong about them wanting the tea for themselves. Aish, he was so turned around by the sudden flirting, the warm touches. Nature, he’d missed being touched. He couldn’t think straight.

“I don’t know that we were motivated by kindness,” Namjoon said, “but we do mean well.”

“I know,” Hoseok said. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Magic prevents people with ill or selfish intentions from finding it.”

The sound of breaking ceramic brought Hoseok rushing to Namjoon’s side. He tutted softly at the beads of blood dotting Namjoon’s shaking hand.

“You’re okay,” he said, gently rinsing his hand. “You’re okay, Joon-ah.”

Namjoon made a noise, a sort of low growl.

“C’mon, let me take care of this.”

He pulled Namjoon back into his kitchen work area, pushing him to hop up on the steel tabletop. Hoseok gathered his first aid kit, turning when Namjoon made a strange noise. He followed Joon’s gaze, found the solo celestial tea cup.

“That’s—”

“Flawed,” Hoseok jumped in. “T-that’s why I only gave you three.”

“Flawed.” Namjoon’s eyes slowly tracked toward him. “Is that why?”

Hoseok set the first aid kit beside Namjoon.

“Let me see your hand.”

“It’s a small cut, Seok-ah.”

“More like half a dozen.” Hoseok cooed as Namjoon leaned back against the wall, hissing slightly as he cleaned the wounds. “You crushed that cup like a beer can.”

“You really don’t have to go to any trouble.”

“Don’t be silly.” He drew out a jar of salve, applying it with a cotton swab.

“Whoa, that’s warm.”

“Good magic is.” He hovered his hand over Namjoon’s palm and murmured a quick spell, one of the first he’d learned as a child, when scrapes and bruises were common. His own hand heated and Namjoon gasped when he pressed their palms together for a few seconds, drawing back with a bright, “Ta-da!”

Namjoon stared at his unblemished hand. He looked at Hoseok.

“All better?”

“I’m—wow.”

“Yes, you are.”

Between a bundle of magic orders and the special brew for Namjoon and the others, his energy stores were on the depleted side. Hoseok sank onto his work stool, the unprepared magic leaving him woozy.

“Seok-ah, are you okay?”

“Jus’ need sleep.”

“Come out with me tomorrow night.”

“Huh?”

“The museum has a new exhibit opening. My new exhibit. Would you go with me?”

“Why does everyone want to go out with me all of a sudden?” Hoseok folded his arms on the table and rested his head. His filter must not be fully functional. Maybe he’d poured too much energy into the spell, too concerned to hold back.

“Everyone, hm?” Namjoon’s hand found his hair again. “And are you telling everyone yes?”

“Only my favorites.” Hoseok yawned, the admission muffled by his arms.

He swore he felt lips brush his temple, the heat of a whispered that works for me pressed against his hair, but he was out cold before he could investigate the sensation.

🌻

Friday

His phone alarm woke him with a gentle chime and Hoseok blinked his eyes open. An unfamiliar weight and warmth behind him took his brain from sleepy to what the fucking fuck in roughly 2.3 seconds. His whole body went stiff, before abruptly melting as a low and sweet voice grumbled, “Got you, Seok-ah…‘s okay…got you.”

Namjoon.

He didn’t remember…this? And by this it seemed he meant he didn’t remember quite a lot. Like… Closing the store. Cleaning the store. Going to sleep on the futon in the workroom. Going to sleep with Kim Namjoon spooned along his back, heavy arm draped over his waist.

 “Namjoon-ah?”

“The magic knocked you out, I think,” he said, and Hoseok remembered the spell to heal Namjoon’s injured hand. “I didn’t have any way to lock the door from the outside, so I finished up the day and closed up.”

“Finished up the day?”

“Your POS system is very straight-forward.”

“And your barista skills?”

“Admittedly rusty.” Namjoon buried a yawn against his back, and Hoseok tried not to let his toes curl at the disgusting domesticity of waking up all cozy and warm.

Because wanting to stay right here, in this moment, in these arms? That probably wasn’t a normal reaction to waking up with a man only slightly more than an acquaintance.

“But I did pay off all the college fees my scholarships didn’t cover working at the busiest café near campus, so I don’t think I did too bad.”

“You worked at a café and didn’t know Cuban coffee?”

“We catered to sleep-deprived students and salary workers.” Namjoon nuzzled his neck, big hands exploring Hoseok’s from shoulder to waistband. “I almost slapped Yoongi for blasphemy when he said your Americano was better than mine the first time he came here.”

“That’s—that’s literally espresso, water, and ice.”

“Exactly. How do you rank that?”

“Must be the beans, then.”

Namjoon squeezed him hard enough that Hoseok squeaked.

“I didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone, Seok-ah,” Namjoon murmured. “And I promise we didn’t go to sleep like this. Must have wandered in our sleep.”

Another, lighter squeeze.

“I’m sorry if it’s too much.” He cleared his throat. “Is it? Too much, I mean.”

Hoseok melted—just a bit—at Namjoon’s concern.

“Yes,” he sighed. “But also no?”

The words spilled out.

“Maybe I like it too much? More than I should? I don’t know. I think I’m in over my head.” He had a moment to worry about self-preservation, but then he was admitting everything. “First Yoongi taking me on a date—and wow, that kiss—and now you, taking care of me and—”

“And also taking you on a date,” Namjoon said, a dark promise in his low tone. “And also kissing you good night.”

“Y-you don’t mind that I went out with Yoongi?”

“I already knew, Sunshine.” The arms around him retreated though, and Hoseok buried his face against the futon to hide his disappointment. His head and heart were so all over the place.

“What is this, then? A-a game?”

Namjoon’s hand rubbed soothing circles over his back.

“I’m all for romance and bedroom games, but no. For starters, we’re showing our appreciation.”

“This is how you say thank you?” He nearly shrieked as Namjoon’s hand drifted south, traveled lovingly over the curve of his ass. The moan—as Joon’s hand gripped—slipped from him helplessly. “Oh, Mother Nature.”

Namjoon laughed, slapped his butt.

“Get up, gorgeous. You’ve got a Friday morning rush to open for, and I’ve got an exhibit opening tonight.” Namjoon climbed over him with a comical lack of grace. He hauled Hoseok to his feet. And right back into his embrace. “Not gonna lie, Hoseokie. I really like having you in my arms.”

“I…really like it, too.”

“You’ll still come with me tonight, right?”

“As long as everyone understands what’s happening here. I don’t want to be accused of playing you guys or some shit.”

“Never gonna happen, Sunshine.”

“This is a really elaborate and weird thank you, just so you know. One of you has to take responsibility if I fall in love.”

“Don’t say that like it’ll be a hardship, baby.”

Butterflies.

Butterflies and more butterflies.

They chased him throughout the day and into the evening. Danced in his belly as he dressed in a new suit sent by Yoongi. The accompanying note—this one looked almost as good as the red—only made the butterflies multiply. He paired the rich blue of the suit with a black button up shirt. He worried he might be too colorful for a museum event until he saw the look on Namjoon’s face, dimples flashing as he smiled.

“Yoongi has good taste.”

The worry vanished as though it never existed.

But the butterflies…

“You look pretty amazing yourself.” And he did, in top-to-bottom black, his shirt open at the collar. His fingers itched to explore the exposed skin as Yoongi had done to him. He offered Namjoon a special tea he’d made for the night, instead. “To help you relax, give you clarity of thought and speech.”

“Seriously?” Namjoon’s brows shot up.

“And a dash of grace so you don’t trip over or break anything.”

“Seok-ah.” Namjoon tugged him into a brief hug. “How did we go so long without you?”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon just raised the cup of tea, and Hoseok supposed that was answer enough. He wondered if spending this magic on Namjoon would only hasten the time when his three favorite customers no longer remembered his store even existed.

No longer remembered he existed.

He whispered the last part of the spell anyway—one he’d prepared ahead this time with Mang’s help—and wrapped the magic around them. It was more for Joon, but if he included himself at least he wouldn’t bumble about and embarrass Namjoon.

Then they were on their way to the event, and Hoseok hoped not to look desperately out of place at his second fancy event in a handful of days.

This many internal butterflies couldn’t be healthy, Hoseok thought, as he tried not to cling to Namjoon’s arm as he was introduced to CEO-this and Chairwoman-that. The crowd seemed to mix genuine lovers of art and history—he even spotted Taehyung and Jeongguk mingling—with the bored elites looking to fluff up their charitable donations. Namjoon led the way through the incredible exhibit of Goryeo Dynasty artifacts and artwork, telling Hoseok about the different pieces. Sculptures, pottery, coins, gilt silver and celadon bowls, carved bottles, Buddhist scriptures carved onto wooden printing blocks. His head spun to see such things outside of a drama. Scattered throughout were painstakingly recreated examples of dress from commoners to the king and queen.

“Namjoon-ah,” he said softly. He didn’t want to be overheard sounding so overwhelmed and out of place. “This is incredible. Thank you so much for bringing me.”

“You’re so welcome, Seokie.” The soft name made Hoseok blush. “Your reaction is worth a million jaded deep pockets. Too many of them are so sure they’ve seen it all, they don’t even bother to look.”

“But my appreciation doesn’t fund the museum.”

“Alas.” Namjoon chuckled. “So we play the game and charm our social betters. We get them to part with some cash and they get a nice tax write off at the end of the year.”

Hoseok’s lips curled up. Surprise flickered through him as something in Namjoon’s expression went unspeakably soft. He stroked a thumb along Hoseok’s bottom lip.

“What is it?”

“I fell for a boy with a heart-shaped smile, once.”

“What?”

“How am I meant to focus, hm?” Namjoon’s words made no sense. Or maybe it was his thumb moving back and forth, almost hypnotizing.

“Namjoon-ah.”

“Right.” Namjoon shook himself, taking a deep breath. “Let’s be charming.”

As the donations piled up, Namjoon whispered in Hoseok’s ear.

“This is your doing, isn’t it?”

“I’ve no idea what you mean.” Hoseok kept his expression neutral, but the tips of his traitorous ears burned.

“Mhm.” Namjoon chuckled, his hand smoothing down Hoseok’s back. “Careful, Seok-ah. You’re going to give me something else to thank you for.”

Hoseok shivered at the implications in Namjoon’s words.

“Maybe you want that, hm?”

“Joon-ah…”

“Let’s get out of here. I need you to myself.”

Namjoon made their goodbyes and before long, he found himself back at the shop. Joon walked him inside, spun him against the nearest wall. And fuck, the way Namjoon pressed tight against him, catching his wrists, and pinning them by his shoulders? Color him all swoony and weak in the knees. Joon’s mouth claimed his, demanding and rough and needy.

“Open up for me, Sunshine. Need your taste on my tongue, baby.”

Hoseok moaned, lips parting and mind dissolving as Namjoon’s tongue swept deep into his mouth. He wanted more, so much more, wanted Joon’s hands on him, wanted…

Namjoon let his wrists go in favor of dipping down and wrapping around his thighs. Hoseok yelped as he was lifted, his legs coming tight around Namjoon’s waist. He threw his arms around Joon, buried his face against the warm skin of his throat, soft ahs punched out of him as Namjoon ground against him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you’re needy.”

Hoseok whimpered.

“I want you. Desperate and needy and willing. Can’t wait to feel you fall apart on my cock, Seok-ah.” Namjoon’s voice dropped low to rival distant thunder, Hoseok’s head spinning as he sank into some hazy space. “Won’t be long, I promise.”

Just like with Yoongi.

Thinking of the composer brought Hoseok almost fully back to himself as Namjoon set him back on his feet. He gathered his composure as Namjoon kissed him goodnight.

“Good night, Seok-ah.”

“Text me and let me know you got home safe, Joonie.” He almost sounded normal. Like he wasn’t trying to figure out the rules of a game no one was admitting to playing.

“I’ll see you soon, Sunshine.”

🌻

Saturday

“Mangie, my huimang, what the hell is going on?” The next morning, Hoseok sat on the fresh hay he’d spread in Mang’s stall, the tiny horse curling up beside him. He’d woken up early to spend time with his familiar before they had to open the shop. Her steady affection soothed the stewing guilt and worry in him. He’d told both Yoongi and Namjoon about the dates with the other, and they’d both seemed completely fine with it. Still… “Am I even allowed to fall in love with two or three people? At the same time?”

Because it might actually be three. It didn’t matter that Seokjin had yet to come around. He couldn’t separate the trio since they’d come to him together. Now that he’d seen them as a group, he had no trouble imagining that more of their time was spent together than apart. They had that sort of comfort and easygoing familiarity. If he had to love only one of them—

My Hoseokie. Mang nudged his arm with her head, almost knocking him over. Seokie unhappy.

“Not unhappy, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around her neck, buried his face in her long mane, the coarse hairs tickling his nose. The scent of horse drifted beneath the stronger aroma of green magic, a mélange of florals and grasses, earth and sunshine. “Confused. I want to be happy. Feel like I’m supposed to be happy about whatever this is, even.”

Weren’t there rules to this sort of thing? Dating? Courting? Whatever they were doing? Friends weren’t supposed to pursue the same person at the same time, right? Bros before hos? And Hoseok was unfortunately the ho? So he was going to be the one left behind—but they kept coming back to see him. To take him out. To hold his hand and kiss him.

Did that make it better or worse? That maybe they genuinely liked him? How was he meant to pick?

“I like them both so much, Mang-ah. And I think they both like me. And they know they’ve both taken me out and—well, and.”

Kiss kiss kiss.

“Hush,” he chided.

Mang only chuffed and mouthed at his cheek.

Kisses for Seokie. Kiss Mangie too. Kiss kiss.

“You have a one-track mind, young lady.” But he laid a kiss on her muzzle. “Not that I can blame you. I like kisses, too.”

He ran his fingers through Mang’s mane.

“Do you think they might like each other, too?”

Yes.

Hoseok appreciated his familiar’s certainty. For Mang there were no rules about how many she could love. As far as she was concerned, hearts were big enough to hold the world.

“I’d feel better if I knew for sure.”

Ask. Ask boys. Love boys. Love Seokie.

“I know you do, Mang-ah.” He hugged her tight, barely avoiding an exuberant hoof to the crotch. “How are you feeling, my sweet? Up for a recharge session?”

Battree charge yes yes.

“Who taught you about batteries, hm?”

Friends need Seokie’s coffee magic to charge battrees. We charge battrees with green.

“Smart girl.”

Yes Mangie smart.

They cuddled peacefully in the predawn, allowing the connection between witch and familiar to reach into the earth. All around them, growing things whispered. Most woke as the sun pushed the night away, some—like the night-blooming jasmine growing on the trellis outside the cottage—sighed as the shift to daytime coaxed them to sleep. Hoseok and Mang basked in the energy, letting it fill and flow through them.

Green happy. Mangie happy. Seokie happy. Mang sighed and rested her head on his lap. Good day.

“It’s about time to head to the café. You coming with me today?”

Yes yes. Get kisses. Boys bring kisses. Mang want kisses too.

Hoseok laughed as they climbed to their feet and raced toward the portal. Mang won, of course, running literal circles around him. Her lips pulled up in a distinctly horsy laugh.

“Yes, I know you’re faster than me.” He put his hands on his hips. “But can you open the door?”

She rolled her eyes and stomped the dirt.

Thumb boys dumb boys. Think they’re so smart.

“What, we can’t both be smart?” He pushed his bottom lip out in a pout that she matched. He doubled over laughing. “C’mon, we’ve got a café to open and friends to greet.”

The Saturday morning passed in a blur, racing right into the afternoon. Yoongi’s playlist was a definite hit with both his plants and his customers, and Hoseok understood why. The café was sparkling, and his own energies felt like they’d undergone a spring cleaning. Even Mang liked it, her energy feeding into his steadily throughout the day, long after she’d headed back to the barn for her lunch and afternoon nap in the warm sun, only mildly disappointed in the day’s lack of kisses.

His phone went off now and then, with messages from Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin keeping him from truly relaxing. These men were determined to kill him. With kindness. With playlists and dates. With terrible jokes and questions about his cooking herbs stock. Music samples. Photos of an afternoon storm gathering behind the Namsan Tower. Unfairly sexy selcas. And no apparent understanding that this just was not how normal people expressed their thanks. At the rate this was going, Kim Seokjin was going to waltz right into the empty café and—

The bells jangled and, yeah…Kim Seokjin waltzed right in, dressed in slim fitting blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt that only emphasized the ridiculous breadth of his shoulders. And accentuated the biceps flexed to hold the canvas shopping bags in his arms.

“Jin-hyung?” And honestly. It shouldn’t even be a surprise, but Hoseok still felt his jaw drop. Still heard himself call Seokjin far too casually. But Seokjin only like Hoseok had just made his day.

“Seokie! Yah, you look refreshed today.” Seokjin flipped the deadbolt on the door and the open sign to closed.

“Oh, but—”

“It’s close enough,” he said. “But just in case, I came prepared.”

He set the bags down and taped a piece of paper to the glass.

“What does it say?”

“You’re on a date.”

“A-a date?” Another date? “Seokjin-ssi—”

“Baby,” Seokjin gasped. “What happened to Jin-hyung?”

“Jin-hyung—”

“That’s so nice. And it’s just a simple date tonight. It’s my turn, and I’ve waited too long to see you again.” Seokjin came right around the counter like he belonged here, and Hoseok rubbed at the pang in his heart that seemed to agree. It’s my turn. Another elaborate thank you. “You have a fridge here, right?”

“Yeah, there’s a full kitchen—” He jerked his thumb toward the doorway behind him.

“Perfect.” Seokjin headed for the back and disappeared into Hoseok’s workroom. “I’m cooking dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?” Hoseok called.

“Mhm.” The distinctive sound of the refrigerator opening came from the back room. Then Seokjin’s head craned around the edge of the doorway. Bright eyes narrowed suspiciously on him. “Have you even eaten today?”

“Um, no?” Where had the day gone? “I kind of forgot.”

“Figures.” Seokjin gave him a smile situated somewhere between knowing and fond, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Hoseok followed, his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

“What are we having?”

“Steak and eggs with kimchi fried rice.”

“Oh wow, hyung. Seriously?” He might be drooling. For a man who could grow anything, including plenty of fruits and veggies (that more often got sold than used in his own kitchen), he didn’t eat so well when left to his own devices. Most of his cooking efforts went toward the café. “That sounds amazing.”

“Of course it does.” Seokjin emptied bags on his clean counters. He tugged two tall canning jars of what looked like homemade kimchi from a bright red bag. “I’m cooking. You’ll be ruined for all other foods by the time I finish with you tonight.”

“Hyung.” Hoseok laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing?”

“You say that now, Seokie.” Seokjin opened another bag and removed a stacked nest of prep bowls. “But see, it’s all part of the plan.”

“The plan where I eat in miserable longing for your food for the rest of my life?”

“I appreciate a man willing to commit to long term worship of my cooking.” Seokjin waved a bamboo spoon at him. “But no. Not that plan.”

“What, then?”

“Patience, Seok-ah.”

Seokjin reached out and grabbed him by the shirt front, dragged him in and kissed him right on the mouth. A quick peck, that’s all, but it jolted through Hoseok like a static shock.

“Go take care of your closing work. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“But I’m hungry now.”

“Exactly how I want you, baby.” Seokjin’s devilish grin almost brought Hoseok to his knees.

🌻

Sunday

When Seokjin walked into the café—dressed to devastate this time, in a silky white button up and pressed black slacks—at twenty minutes until closing on Sunday evening, Hoseok’s heart did an almost certainly unhealthy acrobatic act in his chest.

Mother Nature, the man was. Just. So. Beautiful.

The handful of patrons in the café openly stared. Seokjin was really that guy.

“What brings you by tonight, Jin-hyung? Couldn’t stay away, hm?” Hoseok clapped a hand over his mouth. Had that shameless flirtation come from him?

“You know me so well,” Seokjin teased. “Namjoon tells me I must try the Café Cubano?”

“I can make that happen.” He grinned at Seokjin, no doubt just like a lovestruck fool.

Seokjin returned the smile with a wink and an air kiss. Hoseok was pretty sure a woman to his left swooned. But for whatever reason, Seokjin had his eyes on him. And only him. Hoseok did not swoon, if only because his desire to avoid complete humiliation outweighed his need to melt.

Stay strong, knees. We can do this.

Could a man fall in love with three people? In only twice as many days? His heart—fluttering, soft, hopeful thing—sighed yes. His brain, on the other hand, was screaming inside his skull. On one hand, he was almost certain he was being wooed or courted or seduced or whatever the three beautiful devils tormenting him wanted to call it. On the other hand, he wanted to curl up, small and tight, shielding his heart from the pain that would follow if he was wrong.

He was being…greedy. Right? Thinking that all this mess of feelings churning inside him might be reciprocated by just one of them, never mind all three. That had to be too much.

Seokjin claimed a table near the counter. He was on his phone, typing away, as Hoseok delivered the coffee. Long, crooked fingers brushed over his own and he forgot to breathe for a moment. He willed his hand to stop shaking from the simple contact, finally tucking white-knuckled fists behind his back.

“Thank you.” Seokjin tipped his head up from his phone.

“Of course, hyung.”

“Have I told you how much I love this place, Seok-ah?”

“Ah, maybe not in so many words.” Hoseok’s face heated at the praise and he cleared his throat. “But you do keep coming back.”

“Like you said,” he murmured, “I can’t stay away.”

Hoseok’s mouth went dry at Seokjin’s blatant stare, at the soft smile that came with it.

“Hyung.” That was it. His brain reduced to one word.

“Go finish up, Sunshine,” Seokjin said. “We have plans.”

“Plans?”

“It’s a surprise, so hurry up.” Jin’s smile caught a wicked edge. “Good boys get rewarded, hm?”

Hoseok gulped. Fled. As far as one could flee and still stay in the same shop space.

Good boys get rewarded, hm? There was nothing explicitly…explicit about that arrangement of words, but he practically panted in response. His brain barely managed to keep him going through the motions. He cleaned tables. Put the chairs up. Swept. Mopped. He half thought Seokjin might help as Namjoon had done, but he was busy with something, completely engrossed in his phone. Just as he locked up for the night, his email chimed with a new order.

From [email protected].

“Hyung.” Hoseok huffed out a breath. “You’re right here. I could’ve taken the order from you.”

“You were busy,” Jin said. “Besides, it’s a bigger order than usual. But you’re not dealing with it tonight. Plans. Remember?”

He waved at Hoseok to get on with closing.

“Okay, okay.”

He broke down and cleaned the espresso and coffee machines, scrubbing and polishing until everything gleamed. Next came the counters, and finally the floors behind the counter and in the kitchen.

“So, tonight…I’m taking you to dinner,” Seokjin said, drawing him out of his jumbled thoughts as he counted down the cash register, his last task of the evening. “Sound good?”

“Hyung, you don’t have to take me out. You just cooked for me last night. Seriously, I can—”

Hoseok hadn’t heard Seokjin move, but suddenly found himself crowded against the counter, gulping as he realized how broad Seokjin—Jin—was. Not that Hoseok was small, but he kind of felt small in this moment, with Jin easily bracing his hands on the counter either side of him.

“You can what, Sunshine?” Jin’s voice softened, smoothed over him like honey. “Go hungry?”

“I-I’m sure I’ve got something I can eat.”

The gentle flirtations vanished between one breath and the next.

“But I want to feed you, baby.” Jin’s right hand came up, thumb dragging over Hoseok’s lower lip. “Want to fill you up.”

If he thought Yoongi and Namjoon were being flirty and seductive, Jin was making certain there was no room for doubt. There was no denying the double meaning to Seokjin’s words, or the responding ache in Hoseok’s body. Jin edged shamelessly closer, and Hoseok felt a bit faint.

“This isn’t fair,” he managed, somewhere between a whisper and a whine. “You guys are taking this thanking me thing too far, hyung.”

“Thanking you? Is that what you really think this is? I’m not here to play fair, Hoseok-ah,” Jin murmured. “And I’m not here to thank you. I’m making one hundred percent sure you know I want you.”

“You want…me?”

“Aish. How does that surprise you?” Jin swore softly. “Yes, you.”

Hoseok licked his lips, watched Jin’s eyes darken, tracking the movement.

“Desperately.” Jin’s left hand dropped from the counter to curl around Hoseok’s waist. “Want you desperate, too.”

Gods help him, he was.

He squirmed as the fingers on his lip drifted south, until Jin’s hand splayed over his flat belly. Hoseok’s stomach rumbled, earning a laughing smile from Jin.

“Hungry, Sunshine?”

“Yes.” It was obvious, right? It had to be. Between his growling stomach and the soft panting he couldn’t seem to control with Jin’s hands roaming over him. “‘m starving.”

“For the food?” Jin asked. “Or for me?”

“Yes.” The honest answer spilled past his lips. “Hyung.”

“Oh, baby.” Strong hands tunneled into his hair, holding him tight even as the world seemed to spin on without him. “They told me how perfect you are, more than we dared hope, but I had no idea.”

They told me. Yoongi. And Namjoon. They. We. Me. Hoseok wanted to ask. Needed to ask. Where do I fit in?

But Jin’s lips were on his, coaxing him to forget everything beyond the warm man holding him close. Holding him like he was something worth holding on to.

This didn’t end well. Couldn’t. His rational brain knew that. He couldn’t choose between the three sets of demanding hands and lips wringing so much sensation out of his attention-starved body. Didn’t even know where to begin sorting out his own jumbled emotions over three wonderful, kind, intriguing men. How in Nature’s name did he get out of this without a broken heart?

Worse, did he even care? Or did he just want this connection with all of them too much to even glance sideways at self-preservation? Hitting the bottom was going to hurt, but how did he let go of these highs before they asked him to?

When Jin finally brought them up for air, Hoseok thought he might drown in the possessive gleam in the man’s eyes.

“Come out with me, Seok-ah.” Jin placed the words along Hoseok’s jaw. “I want a night out with hearts in my eyes and Sunshine on my arm.”

“I—I—” Sunshine on my arm. “I’m gross, hyung. Sweaty and…stuff.”

And you’re so pretty.

“Freshen up,” Seokjin said. “I’ll wait.”

They were late to dinner and Hoseok was sure he didn’t look quite put together in his Hawaiian print shirt and khaki shorts when they arrived at Epiphany. Jimin teased them relentlessly until Seokjin promised to put him on dish duty for a month. That didn’t stop Jimin’s heart eyes though, as Jin slid into the booth next to Hoseok, instead of across from him.

He learned firsthand why there was a two-month waiting list for a table at Epiphany, as dish after exquisite dish was brought to their table. Seokjin detailed the ingredients and Hoseok learned that the bigger than usual order involved herbs. Lots of herbs.

“It’s got to be the green witch thing,” he said softly. “What I cooked with at your shop last night was just—” He gave a cheesy chef’s kiss before sliding Hoseok a sidelong glance. “Almost as perfect as you.”

“Hyung.” Hoseok finally found the courage to slow this crazy train down. Maybe derail it completely. He just needed to understand, even if it broke his heart. “This thing with you. Yoongi. Namjoon. What the hell is going on here?”

Seokjin smiled. He didn’t look the slightest bit put off by the question. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. Took a sip of his wine.

“There’s a story there, Hoseok-ah.” He set the glass down. “Can you be patient for just one more day?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, baby.” Jin cupped his cheek, leaning in to brush a soft kiss over his mouth, their noses lightly bumping. Hoseok tasted the red wine lingering on Seokjin’s lips. “I promise everything will be explained and I think—I think this story might even get a happy ending.”

Hoseok’s heartbeat jumped.

“Just one more day?”

“Just let me have tonight.” Jin’s soft plea melted any resolve Hoseok had. “Give me tonight, and tomorrow we’ll give you everything.”

We’ll give you everything. We. As in all three of them. There was so much hope inside him, he thought he might burst.

But Seokjin’s sweet kiss turned demanding, dragging Hoseok willingly under his spell.

One more day. He would wait one more day to keep Jin’s hands and lips on him, trying not to dwell on how much he wanted them all.

Greedy. He was so, so greedy.

🌻

Monday

“I can’t choose.” He couldn’t choose. He wouldn’t choose. They were clearly friends, and they all knew about each other taking Hoseok out. They weren’t hiding anything from him, per se, but they weren’t being entirely transparent, either. They had some end goal in mind. “What could they possibly want out of this, Mangie?”

He’d opted to close the café for the day, spending Monday morning hiding in the barn with Mang. The horse curled up, practically in his lap, her head laying against his chest.

Want Seokie, she said. She yawned, bobbed her head up into his chin.

“I—I want them, too.” His head hit the barn wall with a thunk. “Think we could come up with some sort of polyamorous love spell? Something to politely get them to consider tossing out their friendship and jumping into bed with me? Preferably at the same time?”

Mang’s laughter sounded in his mind, echoed in the horse’s chuffing breaths.

“I know, I know. Dumb idea.”

It was past noon and he should really…get up. Maybe eat something instead of brooding in the barn. He wanted to be mad at them for putting him in this position, but his phone chiming out with incoming text messages changed his anxiety to excitement. Both Namjoon’s and Jin’s names flashed across his lock screen. He opened up his messages to see he’d been added to a group chat.

[Namjoon 12:40]         We’re on our way to the café, Sunshine.

[Seokjin 12:41]           I want more Café Cubano!

Ha.

[Hoseok 12:43]           I’ve created a monster. Café’s closed today, but I’ll head over.

[Seokjin 12:43]           Closed?? You’re never closed.

[Seokjin 12:43]           Are you sick? Did Jimin give you food poisoning?

[Hoseok 12:44]           I’m fine, hyung. Just needed a break.

[Namjoon 12:44]         We need to find you some help. An apprentice or something.

[Seokjin 12:45]           Joon’s right. You work seven days a week.

[Hoseok 12:46]           Hm. Well, people show up even when I take days off.

[Seokjin 12:46]           Yah

[Hoseok 12:46]           I’ll be there in a few minutes, in case you get there first.

Hoseok told Mang he was heading to the café for a few. Mang just rolled her eyes.

Kiss kiss.

“Hush,” he said with a frown. “You’re obsessed with kissing.”

Seokie likes kisses too.

“I never said I didn’t.” He hopped in the golf cart as she laughed at him.

It took less than five minutes to get to the café, long enough for him to regret that he was showing up in horsehair-covered jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. He smelled like barn and Mang, but clean clothes weren’t likely to change the outcome of…whatever this was. Still, he could do something about the smell. He muttered the spell under his breath, only certain he got the words right as his scent shifted to sunshine and fresh air. He headed through the café, lit by the sunlight pouring through the skylights. Seokjin and Namjoon stood at the front door.

Kissing.

His steps stuttered. He stared at the beautiful pair wrapped around each other, not caring one bit that they were in public. It might not be a busy street in Gangnam, but this was… intimate. Comfortable. Familiar. Jin pressed against a spot on Namjoon’s throat that had Joon’s eyes closing, head dropping back to offer better access.

Hoseok rubbed his chest, at an ache buried deep inside him where he could never reach.

They were together.

Then Yoongi arrived, arms laden with takeout bags, and Jin and Joon took advantage of the smaller man’s full hands to rain kisses over every part of him they could reach.

“Oh.” The helpless word sounded too loud in the silent café.

Nature, he was dumb. Blind. It was so obvious, really.

They were all together.

For a moment he considered turning his phone off and heading home. They were a throuple and hadn’t thought to tell him that part—that tiny, little, Jupiter-sized detail—while he stressed the fuck out over their intentions for the past week. They really let him think he was going to have to choose between the three most amazing men in the world and—

Thump, thump, thump.

“Yah, Sunshine!” The shout carried through the glass easily. Seokjin had his hands to the window, peering inside the café. “What are you doing? Open the door and let us in.”

“Oh, what am I doing?” Hoseok huffed, stomping toward the door. He threw the lock and shoved the door open. “What am I doing?”

His indignation died on a squeak as Namjoon hooked an arm around his waist and lifted him right up off the floor, marching them inside. Jin and Yoongi followed behind, Yoongi locking the door.

“Kitchen’s through that doorway, Joonie.”

“Oh, I know,” Namjoon said. He paused, Hoseok dangling in his hold. “That’s where the futon is, too.”

“Yah,” Jin squawked. “Stop rubbing it in that you got to spend the night with him, you brat.”

“Never.” Namjoon carried him the rest of the way into the kitchen, hefting him up on the counter. He moved right between Hoseok’s legs and pulled his head down for a kiss. Hoseok moaned softly as Joon’s tongue licked along his lips, dipped between, asking for entry. “Let me in, baby.”

Hoseok went limp, lips parting easily. Namjoon’s tongue pushed deep, fucking into his mouth.

“Aigoo, they’re pretty together,” he heard, the approval clear in Jin’s warm tone.

“They look like a lot of food is going to go to waste if they don’t stop right now,” Yoongi said. He grabbed Namjoon by the ear.

“Ow ow ow.”

“Unpack food now,” Yoongi growled. “Seduce the pretty witch later.”

“S-seduce?” Hoseok barely forced enough air into the word to be heard. Pretty?

“I’ve waited four days to be back here, and I’m horny as hell.” Yoongi sneaked into the space he’d dragged Namjoon from. “Still. We’re going to be civilized.”

But Yoongi’s tongue was taking a decidedly feral tour up the length of Hoseok’s throat. Like Joon had out front, Hoseok let his head drop back as teeth nipped and lips sucked up fresh blooms of color. He didn’t want to argue or resist. He just wanted to keep feeling their hands and mouths on him. Wanted the tiny ache that swelled with the pleasure each time Yoongi’s touch flirted with too. Too hard. Too much. Too soon.

“Is this what you call civilized, Yoonie?” An additional weight pressed against his side, and Hoseok turned his lust-drugged eyes on Seokjin. “Aigoo, look at you, Seokie. How are we supposed to make it through lunch with you looking like this, baby?”

“Need to take the edge off,” Yoongi said, mouth closing over Hoseok’s Adam’s apple.

A large hand slipped between his legs and Hoseok groaned as it pressed down, firm against his growing erection. He gulped in breaths, involuntary sounds punching out of him as two hands on him turned into four, one pair of lips into two as Yoongi and Seokjin worked opposing sides of his throat over.

A loud slurping dragged the three of them back to the real world, where Namjoon stood with a cup of soup between his hands. His dragon eyes watched them with lazy interest, blinking slowly as he took another obnoxiously loud sip of the broth.

Seokjin giggled, little squeaky puffs of warm, humid breath against Hoseok’s neck. Yoongi snorted. Hoseok sighed as he was abandoned in favor of food.

Well, at least he wouldn’t go hungry for food today.

“I hate all of you,” he grumbled.

“You say that now, Seokie—”

“Do not tell me this is all part of your grand plan, Jin-hyung,” he barked. “Your grand plan of stressing me out for six days was fucking terrible. You were together all along.”

Seokjin dragged Hoseok to the edge of the counter to practically ride his thigh. The pressure against his cock drove all rational thought from his mind.

“I was actually going to say,” Jin said, and there was a dangerous edge to his voice now, a promise of wicked and wonderful things. “You say that now, Seokie…” Jin’s voice dropped to a lethal purr. “Because we haven’t made you come on our cocks yet.”

“Oh.” Hoseok blinked. “W-was that—was that the p-plan?”

“Pretty much from the moment we laid eyes on you.” Jin nipped his earlobe. “Yoongi blew up our phones the first time he came here. Going on and on about the pretty boy who was maybe a witch and so very sweet and fuckable.”

“I mean…for like, today? You wanted to do that…today?”

“As many times as you can handle.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t do all this just to have sex, did you? The tea and—who was that even for?”

“You’re joking, right?” Yoongi snorted.

Jin drew back, a decidedly peeved look pinching his mouth.

“Jung Hoseok,” he said. “We’ve spent the past week actively courting you.”

“Working our way out of the intense gravitational pull of your friend zone,” Namjoon said, sneaking back in and sucking a spot just beneath Hoseok’s ear. “You were so sweet during our dates. Wanted to claim you so bad. Still do.”

Yoongi came up next to them.

“Open up, baby.”

He accepted the kimbap roll Yoongi pressed against his lips. Moaned softly as the flavors burst over his tongue. Seasoned beef, mango, sweet peppers, rice. Fuck, it tasted so good. He tried not to choke when Yoongi’s thumb pushed lightly into his mouth.

“How many times can you come in an hour?”

Hoseok swallowed. Coughed.

“I—um—I mean. An hour?” His cheeks absolutely burned as he admitted, “I’ve come twice on my own. A-a few times.”

Namely after they had each taken a go at him, riling him up before leaving him.

“Just twice?” Yoongi smiled, one eyebrow rising slowly. “And only on your own?”

“That’s almost criminal.” Namjoon curled around Yoongi’s back.

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully.

“Ah, Jin. Joonie.” Yoongi leaned back into Namjoon’s hold. “I think our baby’s in urgent need.”

Our baby. Hoseok tried not to squirm as the trio focused on him. They were just so lovely and intense, and he wanted to cry just imagining surrendering himself to them.

“Gonna fill you up again, baby,” Jin said teasingly. “I hope you’re ready.”

🌻

They ate. Somehow. The exact sequence of events blurred. Food was consumed. Dishes were cleaned. Garbage disposed. He led them to the portal. His heart thumped so hard, with each step toward the door. One last test of the magic protecting him. If it let them through—hell, if they even could see the world beyond the door—this fever dream of attraction and lust driving him out of his mind was as real as any spell he could craft could ever hope to prove. He stopped at the door.

“Are we going to just stand here all night?” Yoongi asked. “Because I’m not opposed to fucking you against a door.”

“Yoongi-yah.”

“Four days, Jinnie. I’m a little desperate to get to the ‘loving all over Hoseok’ part of my week.”

Loving all over Hoseok.

Damn if that didn’t set those butterflies to flying in his belly again.

“Four days, seriously? You act like you’ve been celibate. Like you haven’t railed the both of us to vent your Seokie-related pining.”

Hoseok slid the barn door aside.

“You railed back, Jin,” Yoongi spat. “My ass is—”

Conversation stopped, replaced by a curiosity so strong Hoseok could practically touch it.

“It’s a…shed?” Yoongi hmphed. “I was expecting a bit more, honestly. You got a subterranean lair under here or something?”

Yoongi passed through the portal, visibly shuddering at the magic heavy in the air surrounding it. He glanced back. “Wah, that’s honestly a little unsettling.”

“You get used to it.”

“Okay, yeah.” Yoongi nodded but looked a tiny bit shellshocked. “That’s good.”

“This is our ride back to the house.” He pointed to the golf cart.

“Excellent.” Jin clapped his hands. “Everything is more fun in a golf cart.”

“Sex is probably not more—”

“Then you’re doing it wrong, you contrary little monster.” Jin wrapped Yoongi in a headlock. “I’m going to bend you over that hood and—”

Hoseok opened the shed door.

“—oh, holy shit.” Yoongi’s jaw dropped. “That…is not Seoul.”

Seokjin sucked in a breath. Namjoon let out a joyous sort of squeak.

“Is this even Korea?” Joon poked his head over Hoseok’s shoulder. “Seriously. It’s so alive.”

“Yes.” Hoseok laughed. “Yes, it’s Korea. My green witch legacy. This land has been my family’s for a couple hundred years now. The magic runs deep enough for even a non-witch to feel it.”

Namjoon’s arms wrapped around his waist, chin coming to rest in the crook of Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Is it too much, Joon-ah?”

“No, it’s amazing.” Joon hummed and rocked them back and forth. “Kinda bubbly and warm. Makes me want to get naked and freaky in the flowers.”

“I second that,” Jin said.

“Don’t scar the poor flowers.” Yoongi came up over Hoseok’s other shoulder. “Our Sunshine works too hard for this place. Yah, it’s easy to forget you’re a witch sometimes. Even with your magic tea buzzing around inside me.”

“My…magic tea.” Hoseok pulled free of Namjoon and turned to face the three. “The tea I made for your…friends.” It felt a bit like curtains were being opened to let light into a long dark room. “Friends in love. Friends who maybe wanted to confess.”

All three looked at him. Namjoon finally spoke up.

“It never once occurred to you that this week—with us, with you—come on, Sunshine.”

“Yeah, of course it occurred to me. We all imagine impossible things.” Hoseok crossed his arms over his chest. He felt his bottom lip pop out, mouth turning down in a pout. “It’s not like any of you properly confessed.”

“We’re trying, Seokie. A week of courting our way out of being seen as friendly customers, remember?” Namjoon’s voice dropped low. “What about those tea cups?”

“Do you really have the fourth cup, baby?” Jin asked softly.

“I—” Hoseok swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“Maybe some piece of you knew, hm?” Yoongi came up along Hoseok’s back, arms looping around his waist. “I told these bozos you were the real deal. They didn’t believe me until that tea damn near got us high.”

“Yoongi-yah,” he said, feeling too small to push the question past his throat, “You—you wanted me all along?”

“You weren’t lying when you said it would go to work so long as there were mutual feelings to build on.” Yoongi kissed his cheek. “Between all three of us pining after your sweet self, things got a bit…needy.”

“Yah, why didn’t you just say something?” Hoseok asked.

“Friend zone gravity well.” Namjoon shrugged. “Not to mention we weren’t sure how to tell you all of us want to be with you.”

“You stressed me out so much,” he said. “Thinking I had to choose between my three favorite people.”

“Your favorites, huh?” Seokjin seemed to like that. A lot. “I think you should take us home, baby. Our first time together really shouldn’t be in a golf cart, but my self-control is stretched to the limit.”

“Aish.” Hoseok pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get in the cart.”

He kicked off the parking brake and drove. The world blurred, like that one time Hoseok went to an actual New Year’s celebration and drank champagne. Like he was floating outside his own body. Mang heard the cart and came to the barn door. She trotted out and greeted them with a whinny before running off into the fields with a sly kiss kiss tossed at him.

“Did Mang—” He glanced between the three. “Did you maybe ever say something about me to Mang?”

“All the time,” Namjoon said easily. “She’s your familiar, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t court a witch without also courting their familiar,” Jin said. “We asked around.”

“If she didn’t like us, we didn’t stand a chance.” Yoongi hopped out of the golf cart. “We hoped she wouldn’t tell you not to give us the time of day.”

“She likes you,” Hoseok said. “So much. I think she tried to hint that you might like me, without outright saying it.”

“We asked her to keep hush hush.” Namjoon took his hand and tugged. “Can we go inside? Please? I want to kiss you again. But like, everywhere.”

“Preferably with you naked.” Yoongi leaned back into the cart to kiss Hoseok’s nose. “Naked and needy.”

He shivered and stood on shaky legs. They surrounded him immediately, hands pulling at his clothes, climbing beneath his shirt. Fingernails raked over his nipples and he almost blacked out. Jin came up hard against his back, supporting him.

“We’ve got you, baby.”

“It’s just—oh, man—I haven’t been with more than one person. I haven’t even been with one person in a while.”

“How long?” Yoongi’s long fingers worked his belt open, flicked the button on his jeans. “Every time we touch you, it’s like rain in the desert. You just soak it up.”

“Th-three...” The zipper on the jeans must have vanished because there were hands—so many hands—dipping into them. Grabbing his ass, stroking his cock, rubbing his thighs.

“Three what?” Seokjin’s mouth worked up and down his neck. “Months?”

Months? No—no, what came after months? Decades? Lifetimes?

“Y-years.”

“Years?” There was an eruption of swearing. Zealous hands and mouths on his body. Soothing words of apology and racier promises pressed into his skin as his clothes disappeared.

“In the house,” Joon said. “Need a bed.”

He felt like he was floating. Maybe he was. He certainly wasn’t walking, yet they all seemed to move in the directions he gave.

“Yah, this place is like…interior decorator porn,” Seokjin said, the appreciation in his voice making Hoseok preen. “Almost as pretty as you, Sunshine.”

Hoseok had no clothes left by the time he was tossed onto his bed. A bed plenty big enough for four, and he fell back in a heady rush of sensation. Namjoon on his left, Seokjin on his right, and Yoongi between his thighs. They turned him, folded him, molded him to their pleasure. And their pleasure was his pleasure. He’d never experienced anything as incredible as these three men exploring his body, discovering what made him writhe and moan.

He was flipped over, tugged onto his hands and knees. Namjoon’s erect cock, long and girthy enough to make Hoseok whine, pressed against his lips.

“Open up, baby?”

That floaty place only they had ever shown him hovered at the edges of his consciousness. Nature, it just felt so good to give them control. He lived to make people happy, and this was simply an extension of that, one that made him happy in return.

“Careful, Joonie,” he heard Jin say. “He’s slipping.”

“I see it.” Gentle fingers stroked his cheeks. “Seokie, can you hear me?”

He managed a weak nod.

“Words, baby. Are you green?”

Green? Ah, safe words. Checking on his condition.

“Green,” he said. “I’m green.”

“Yoongi’s going to start working you open, okay?”

Someone spread the cheeks of his ass. Cold, cold lube flooded the crack, so much it spilled down his thighs.

“So messy,” Jin sighed.

“I like it messy. Don’t tell me you won’t. When he’s all soft and crying. So overstimulated and fucked out that there’s no resistance. Just heat clenching your dick, helpless to keep you out, and so wet and slick.”

Hoseok whined as a blunt fingertip circled his rim. He could hear Jin’s breathing change as Yoongi talked. So filthy and wonderful and—

“And just imagine when two of us can fuck him together, hm?”

“Oh, fuck.” Hoseok pitched forward as Yoongi’s finger sank in to the first knuckle. It was the barest intrusion, but the man’s hands were big and Hoseok hadn’t been touched intimately by anyone other than himself in— “Oh, oh, ohhh.”

That long finger sank in all the way with one slow, delicious push.

He panted at the invasion, but they gave him little time to rest. Something was pressed into his palm. Hold on to it, good. Drop it, bad. Drop it, and full stop. He held on for dear life. Cried out as two fingers worked into him, scissoring slowly. Gently. And Namjoon came back to him, and Hoseok welcomed him, taking him deep into his mouth. Seokjin slipped beneath him, mouth latching on to Hoseok’s nipple, suckling and biting. Namjoon’s cock, rutting into his throat, cutting off the air he needed to cry as Yoongi added a third finger and those long, curious digits found his prostate. His bucking body gave him away and Yoongi hummed in response.

“There you are.”

Yoongi’s fingers curled and relaxed, again and again, picking up speed in direct response to Hoseok’s noises. Namjoon’s hands dug into his hair, steadying him as he slowly fucked Hoseok’s mouth. And Jin kept at his nipples, alternately worshiping and torturing the stiffened buds. His entire body quaked, sensations ripping through him too fast to process, and just as he was right on the edge, everyone pulled back. He groaned in protest as Namjoon’s dick slid from his mouth, Yoongi’s fingers only lightly pressing his rim now.

“Why?” he whined. “Fuck. Please. Please fuck me.”

“Oh, I’m going to, baby.” Yoongi’s hand stroked up his spine, gripping the back of his neck.

He dropped his head to the bed, sucking in air, registering sounds around him and more lube dripping between his cheeks. His back bowed, a drawn-out moan ripping from his throat as Yoongi’s cock pushed past the tight rim of his anus and slid deep. Balls deep. Until Yoongi’s sharp hips rutted up against his ass.

No resistance. Helpless to keep you out.

🌻

He keened as Yoongi drew back, only to ease home with a steady thrust of his hips.

“Yes, oh yes. Fuck, you feel so good,” Yoongi groaned. “So slippery and warm and tight. Clenching around me like you don’t want to let go.”

Hoseok burned with embarrassment even as something feral stirred inside him. When had he become so wanton?

“You fit me like a glove, Sunshine. So warm and wet. My perfect baby.” Yoongi’s words spilled over him, praising him with filthy, wonderful words, twisting him around until he just wanted to be whatever Yoongi needed. “Trying to hold me close, squeezing so tight around me. You’re going to be a good boy and come on my cock, aren’t you baby?”

“I-I dunno. N-ne-ver. Nev—er.” He bit the word off on a moan as Yoongi changed the angle and started a patient, tireless pace against his prostate once more. “Ah-ah-ah.”

“That’s my baby,” Yoongi crooned. “Fill him back up, Joonie. Don’t you dare touch that pretty cock, Jin.”

Joon stuffed his mouth, gagging him with one long slide straight into his throat. Jin’s fingers curled over the column of his neck.

“I can feel Joonie inside you, baby,” he said softly. “You’re so good for us. So perfect. Taking Yoongi and Namjoon both. We’ve wanted you for so long, Seokie. Gonna make you come over and over again. I’m so happy you’re finally ours. We’ll keep you so full of cum, baby, so you’ll never doubt our devotion.”

“Want to come all over you,” Joon growled. “Mark you as ours. So you never doubt who you belong with.”

Tears flooded his eyes, crested over and flowed down his cheeks. He wanted that. Wanted to belong with these men so very much. He couldn’t stop the pleasure that exploded through him. His body jerked, out of his control, the trio keeping him in place as he orgasmed. Namjoon’s cum filled his throat, Yoongi’s hips bucking hard once, twice, before he stiffened with a shout.

Jin slipped out from under him before he collapsed on the bed, landing in the mess of his own cum, the slightly bitter taste of Namjoon’s heavy on his tongue, Yoongi an unmistakable presence in his ass. He hissed as Yoongi slipped out of him, heard the snap of latex as he disposed of a condom. Nature, he’d never even heard him put one on.

Jin stayed with him through it all, leaning down to whisper, “My turn, baby.”

He was rolled to his back, blinking at the sight of Jin. No one was naked except him, and there was a thrilling sort of vulnerability to that. He was the only one fully exposed, like they were so impatient to have him they couldn’t be bothered with details like clothes. Jin’s fly was open, his cock standing straight up against his belly. Fuck, they were all seriously hung, but Jin might be the biggest.

Jin tore open a fresh condom and sheathed himself. He hooked Hoseok’s legs over his elbows with a wicked grin as Yoongi came back. Hoseok whimpered as Yoongi reached around Jin and drenched his erection in yet more lube.

“Look at him, Jin. So pretty and puffy and used. Clenching on nothing. He wants to be filled.”

“Then let’s fill him.”

Jin tossed his head back like a damn work of art as Yoongi stroked him, guided him to Hoseok’s hole. Jin let Yoongi position him, leaning his weight into Hoseok’s legs, pinning him in place. It was maybe the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life. The sound that came out of Hoseok—raw and animalistic—scored his throat. He thrashed as Jin sank into his tender ass.

They gave him no pause, no chance to catch his breath.

“Uh-unh-nh.” Words failed him, his eyes rolling up in his head as Yoongi gripped Jin’s hips and eased him back so slow and easy and he could feel each millimeter of drag inside him. Then Yoongi pushed Jin forward, Hoseok shouting out. “Too much. Too much.”

“You know what to do, baby.” Namjoon lifted him by the shoulders to slip in behind him, folding him up even more. “Are you red?”

“R-red?”

“Like a stop light, Seok-ah,” Yoongi rasped. “Red means full stop.”

Jin and Hoseok both huffed as Yoongi drew Jin’s hips back again.

“Safewords, Hoseokie. Remember?”

“Right. Y-yes.”

“D-do we stop, Seokie?” Sweat beaded on Jin’s brow. Yoongi smirked, clearly enjoying taking them both apart. “Fuck fuck fuck, you feel so good. So tight.”

Hoseok opened his mouth to say something. Yes. No. Get out of my ass. Something. But Yoongi and Namjoon chose that moment to shift Hoseok’s legs to one side, held tight together as Jin pushed deep, moving under his own power now.

Hoseok howled, loud and raw, Jin’s tip pressing hard against his prostate.

“No, no, no, unnnhhh fuck.” Not red, though. Not red.

“Jin,” he heard Yoongi say, a low warning in his tone.

“Green,” Hoseok gasped. “’m green. Please. N-need it. Take it. T-take me.”

The growls this time were unmistakably animal. Hoseok struggled to open his eyes, finding Jin’s gaze turning to molten gold over him.

“Mine,” Jin growled with a snap of his hips.

“Ours,” Yoongi seconded.

Tears spilled freely once more from Hoseok’s eyes.

“Take him apart, Jinnie,” Yoongi urged.

Jin pounded into him with renewed fervor, driving into Hoseok, the wet squelch of lube making the slide impossibly easy. Impossible to stop. And fuck, that sense of helplessness pushed Hoseok high. They took him, hard, relentless, but they gave everything in the taking. He’d never flown like this. Hands stroked his cock, too many fingers and palms to process. Lips and tongues and teeth moved over his neck and shoulders. Teasing him with love bites, marking him everywhere they could reach. His whole body spasmed as their hands moved over his cock from balls to weeping head.

He’d never felt so overwhelmed, so wanted. His magic stirred at the edges of his awareness, joyous and wild and bubbling up and out of him.

“Oh gods, oh gods, ah-ah-ah.” The orgasm erupted through him, the world going dark and hazy at the edges as his body stiffened. Life surged all around him, answering the call of his magic as his cum splashed over his stomach, hot and sticky.

“So beautiful,” Namjoon whispered.

Hoseok jerked as more cum splattered over his chest, opening his eyes to find all three of them finishing on him. Namjoon dragged lazy fingers through the mess, like it was a lotion to rub into his skin.

“Truly so perfect for us, love,” Jin cooed even as Hoseok startled at the term. “Wanna fuck you forever, Sunshine.”

He felt at once objectified and revered.

“Jin-hyung,” he whined, and fuck words were hard. He just wanted to drift in this orgasmic bliss, but… “Is this—are you—are you just using me?”

“Never, baby,” Jin said softly. “Didn’t we ask for a love spell to get you here?”

“B-but—why? You have each other already.”

“We’re greedy.” Jin shrugged his billboard shoulders. “And you fit.”

“Fit? What does that mean?”

“You haven’t figured out what we are, Sunshine?” Yoongi asked.

Seokjin and Namjoon dropped down on the mattress on either side of Hoseok.

“I know you aren’t exactly human. I heard the growl. Saw Jin-hyung’s eyes—” And Yoongi’s, he remembered.

“All our possessive manhandling, growling, talk of marking you?” Jin pressed the words along Hoseok’s jaw. “I’ll make it clearer, hm? We want to mate you, Seokie.”

Mate.

Ohhhh.

“You’re shifters.” Their dynamics, their possessiveness, and yes, the growling suddenly took on new context. “You’re a pack.”

“That’s right,” Jin sighed.

Most packs were built on familial and friendship bonds. He’d known those packs to grow to impressive size, fifty members or more. But a pack built on romantic bonds rarely increased in size. They even more rarely included non-shifters. The entire pack had to agree, or the bond wouldn’t take.

“That’s why you wanted the tea?”

“We tried the whole, ‘hi, we’re a pack and we’d like to love you’ open approach once,” Jin said. His gazed darted toward Namjoon. “But they only loved one of us.”

“So you wanted to know for sure if I reciprocated.”

“Are you upset, Sunshine?” Yoongi’s dominant behavior vanished in a blink, the smaller man climbing right on top of Jin to also lay at Hoseok’s side. Seokjin just huffed and anchored him in place with a hand around his waist. He softly kissed Hoseok’s cheek, nuzzled his ear. “We fell so hard for you, baby. We just needed to know if we had a chance with you.”

“We felt it, felt you at the edges of our pack bond as soon as we drank the tea,” Jin said. “So bright and warm and present. I can’t tell you how fucking hopeful one little cup of tea made us, Seok-ah.”

“You didn’t tell us about that part,” Yoongi said. “Caught us by surprise.”

“Most don’t perceive it so literally,” Hoseok said. No wonder they’d been so confident. They knew right away Hoseok was receptive to them. “I don’t.”

“You will,” Jin said.

“But I’m not a shifter.”

“But you will be pack. You don’t have to be a shifter to be part of a pack bond,” Yoongi said with a yawn. “Why does it smell like a flower shop in here?”

The four of them finally looked beyond the bed. Hoseok sucked in a sharp breath.

“Whoa,” Jin said. “Seokie?”

The room looked like one of those beautiful post-apocalyptic scenes, long after nature took over the ruins of civilization. Vines covered the walls, windows, and ceiling. Quite probably the door, too. Every potted plant grew and bloomed to overflowing.

“Is that a tree growing through the floor?”

Hoseok looked to where Namjoon pointed.

“My ficus benjamina,” he said weakly. It was a meter taller now, branches brushing the ceiling and roots clearly digging through the bedroom floor. “There was a pot.”

Seokjin laughed, bright and loud. He practically climbed on top of Hoseok, pushing him flat against the mattress, uncaring about the mess slowly drying on his chest.

“Seok-ah.” Jin grinned, with teeth and everything, and it stole Hoseok’s breath. He stroked through Hoseok’s hair. “We made you feel that good, baby? Hm?”

“I, um—I mean, yeah?” His ears burned at the sudden scrutiny from all three of them. “You were there, hello? But this is—this is more. This is my magic transitioning to the next level.”

“Seokie?” Jin perked up.

Hoseok giggled. It might’ve been a slightly mad cackle.

“I think I just became an Adept.”

“What does that mean?” Namjoon asked.

Hoseok eyed the Asiatic jasmine vine crawling across the bedroom ceiling. Seokjin sucked in a breath as the ivy stretched out and grew toward Hoseok. The vine twisted around his index finger before retreating to the ceiling.

“You just leveled up.”

They piled on him, little growls rumbling in their throats, showering him in kisses and little bites until he cracked, shouting with laughter as they loved all over him. Eventually they took turns in Hoseok’s two showers, Jin claiming rights to Hoseok as the eldest and pack leader. After they cleaned up, Jin and Yoongi changed the sheets on the bed while Hoseok and Joon set about repotting plants.

Most everything had to be moved out to the greenhouse or barn, having grown far too large for the house. Jin and Yoongi joined in, and Mang greeted everyone with a happy whinny and a head butt that knocked Namjoon on his ass. She did a happy dance in front of Hoseok, dipping down in a bow at the end.

Mangie proud of her Seokie.

It was near dawn when they finally settled down to sleep, everyone calling out of whatever work or plans they had for the day. Yoongi fussed with his phone for a moment, and a minute later three phones chimed or buzzed. Hoseok got to his phone first.

Yoongi has changed the group chat name to: Hoseokie’s Harem

“Hoseokie’s Harem?” Jin hummed an approval. “I like that.”

“Does that mean you’re at my beck and call?” Hoseok giggled. “Ready to please me at a moment’s notice?”

“Are you calling, Sunshine?” Yoongi asked, low voice a purr against Hoseok’s shoulder.

Hands slid beneath his t-shirt, nails scraping lightly up his chest. More hands caught the waistband of his pajama pants and tugged them away.

“Are you serious?” he squeaked.

“I mean, you’ve still only come twice in one hour,” Yoongi said.

“We really should fix that, hyungs,” Namjoon said, his breath warm against Hoseok’s thighs as he worked his way between them. “Hold him for me, hm?”

Hoseok gasped as his cheeks were spread by long, gentle fingers. Squirmed as Joon’s tongue flicked across his rim. Licked harder. Prodded teasingly at the ring of muscle.

“Oh oh oh unnhhh.” Hoseok tossed his head back, the sensation of Namjoon’s tongue sinking into him unlike anything he’d ever felt before. “Joon, Joonie, oh fuck.”

“Did we mention, Seokie?” Jin asked, all innocence and mischief. “The pack bond forms and strengthens through mating. Your libido and refractory rate will naturally shift to accommodate your very needy harem.”

Jin’s mouth closed over his semi-hard cock, patiently sucking him erect. Yoongi kissed him slow and deep before shifting to straddle Hoseok’s shoulders.

“The more we fill you up, and the more you come for us, the more you’re ours.” He stroked Hoseok’s cheek. “And we’re yours. Do you feel us yet? You’re like the sun shining in my heart.”

“Yoongi-yah.” Hoseok opened his mouth as Yoongi shoved his pants down enough to bare his cock. “Fill me up, please.”

“Open wide, baby.”

He sank into bliss as Yoongi pushed into his throat, as Jin swallowed him to the base, as Namjoon added a finger alongside his tongue. His body overloaded with embarrassing speed and he bucked up, a whimpering, teary-eyed mess, shooting his load into Jin’s sweet mouth. Jin swallowed it down and pulled off with a pop.

“That’s one,” he said, voice wrecked from the blow job.

Somewhere in the house, a pot cracked.

“That’s it, Sunshine,” Yoongi huffed.

Hoseok whined, jaw aching, body craving more as Jin and Namjoon began working their fingers—absolutely sloppy with lube—inside him.

“We love you,” Jin said softly. “So much.”

“Love you, Seokie,” he heard Namjoon echo, then Yoongi.

Love you. Love you, love you, love you.

“Yah.” Jin slapped Yoongi across the back. “The first time he tells us he loves us is with your dick in his throat?”

Yoongi pulled out as Hoseok choked.

“Y-you heard that?” Hoseok asked, voice shot. “What I thought?”

“You thought that one pretty loud, baby,” Namjoon said.

Something sparked at the edge of his awareness. Something warm and eager. He closed his eyes, focusing. Found three distinct spots of brilliance nudging at him.

“Oh, you’re almost there,” Jin said. “C’mon, baby. Come for us again.”

His concentration splintered as Jin and Namjoon began a targeted assault inside him, Yoongi shifting to suck and bite at his nipples. He cried out as the fingers withdrew and Namjoon sank into him, to the hilt, in one smooth push, catapulting him to the brink of orgasm and over. He fell, but those three bright lights swam out of the darkness and caught him.

“There you go,” Jin said fondly. In his head—or maybe it was his heart—he heard, Love you, Sunshine.

Joy. Love. Desire. It all swirled through him. His. Theirs. Together.

“I feel it,” he said. “I feel you.”

“Welcome to the pack, baby,” Namjoon said. “We love you.”

“Everyone loves everyone,” Yoongi said. But he grinned, wide and gummy, leaning in to kiss Hoseok on the mouth. “But we’re on the clock here, and still only at two orgasms in an hour.”

“Two’s enough.” Hoseok waved them off. “I swear it’s enough.”

“You say that now, Seokie,” Jin said.

“Right, yeah, I know—because I haven’t come three times.”

All three of them smiled.

“Who said anything about stopping at three?” Yoongi asked.

With any luck, the house would still be standing when they finished with him.

Or when he finished with them.