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In the Jung’s London townhouse was a tapestry. Centuries older than the house itself, spanning from floor to ceiling, there was no discernable pattern to the palm-sized squares it consisted of; there were assorted patches with six, maybe seven of the same colour in a row; lower to the floor, fresher patches seemed more evenly distributed if favouring greens and blues; an occasional pale grey broke up the colours, sewn into the family history without a second thought.
11 years ago, when the hat had sat upon Jung Hoseok’s head, his parents had watched as his square trembled and shivered for a minute straight before turning a brilliant yellow. Next to Dawon’s deep green square, the colours seemed to resemble the marigolds that bloomed in their mother’s garden every spring.
~*~
Raised with love, his childlike wonder bolstered by constant encouragement and reassurance, disappointment was a feeling utterly unfamiliar to Hoseok upon first stepping into the Great Hall. Even when the hall had erupted into whispers as yellow and copper unfolded along the edges of his robes, he’d only smiled, waving back enthusiastically to Dawon at the Slytherin table as she cheered and grinned, mouthing an ‘I love you’ he could recognize anywhere. It didn’t matter if he was the first Hufflepuff the Jungs had seen in decades: Hoseok resolved to exist as he was, the colour of his uniform nothing more than an accessory.
Over the next seven years, he fell in with a patchwork crowd: Namjoon, potions-buddy turned hospital-wing-buddy-and-best-friend after they’d crashed into each other during Flying and earned a combined two broken arms, three broken fingers, and no small amount of lost dignity; Seokjin, who was ten times more charming than the two of them combined, and who had a knack of making anyone laugh (or swoon) with his awful jokes; Taehyung, distantly related to Hoseok somehow, who never complained whenever Hoseok leaned on his back to whine and complain about classes, and who always seemed to have a pastry on hand in his too-long robes (courtesy of the elves, whom Taehyung treated as friends); and Jungkook, the latest square in Hoseok’s tapestry of his own making – a shy sliver of a boy when they’d met in the Room of Requirement with eyes as big as a rabbit’s and a heart that seemed to match.
If his circle of friends seemed to extend indefinitely, these four remained at the center of it all; they were more family than friends, that by 3rd year even the Fat Lady would coo hello whenever he appeared in front of her, and his housemates jokingly complained they never saw him without a slighter blue shadow trailing behind him. He’d laughed them off, dismissing their teasing and extricating promises not to bully the junior – Jungkook had appeared in his life accidentally, but Hoseok had nothing but unbridled affection for him, teasing him about how shy he was because he could sense there was something promising underneath.
But by the time he was seventeen, something seemed to shift. Hoseok, for the first time in his life, had gotten tongue-tied. In all honesty, he hadn’t recognized Jungkook at first. It wasn’t until Seokjin (busy at St. Mungo’s but not too busy to miss seeing off his friends) bent down to pick up a trunk and yelled in outrage that Hoseok had spun around, ready to placate their latest argument.
“What the hell did you put in your trunk? It’s so heavy – did you pack your broom polish? That’s not gonna help with winning, you know. Edwards has it out for you after you beat him last year.” And while Hoseok had finally recognized the trunk plastered with a Kenmare Kestrel’s logo and a plethora of muggle band stickers, he’d fallen silent at the sight of Jungkook himself. Still thin, but so much taller and broader around the shoulders – it was like looking at him anew, and something in Hoseok’s gut twisted painfully. His eyes immediately met Taehyung’s as the Hufflepuff smiled conspiratorially at him, and something in him had cursed and sworn, dragged out from the depths of whatever kappa-infested lake it’d secluded itself in to face the truth – that he maybe, possibly, had the slightest crush on Jeon Jungkook.
Damn it.
Taehyung’s grin didn’t shift from his face the entire train ride, and Hoseok had just shaken his head as a signal they’d talk later. To his credit, apart from an aborted attempt to ask Jungkook whether he thought Hoseok had gotten fitter over the summer (yes, from weeks of muggle sports and Quidditch but that wasn’t the point), the little snitch had kept silent. But when they’d finally bid the other two goodbye and headed down, Taehyung had almost pinned him to a wall with how excited he was.
“So? Hyung, you noticed right? Jungkook got taller? Those shoulders? Where’s the baby we raised? I bet he could throw me right through a Quidditch goal now.” Hoseok stared at Taehyung, his body growing hotter with embarrassment and shame as Taehyung prattled on without even seeming to care that Hoseok was having some sort of aneurysm.
“Stop it! It’s not a laughing matter.” Taehyung had fallen silent, watching him with careful, wide eyes. And that’s when it really hit him – that something had irrevocably changed. That the memory he had of Jungkook at eleven – barging in on him and Mickey for the first time – no longer seemed to gel with the young man who’d sat opposite him on the train this afternoon and smiled and offered him a chocolate frog.
“Are you scared?” Maybe. He managed a shrug, and Taehyung’s expression softened. The thought of liking a guy wasn’t scary but it being Jungkook in particular was what felt so wrong. He’d felt similar stirrings before – enough that he’d asked Dawon about them a year or so back, and she’d calmly walked him through his thoughts before giving him a tight hug. There’d been faces in the corridors who’d made his heart beat faster; sometimes after Quidditch he’d find himself eyeing the players’ exuberant grins and his stomach would somersault. But this … this whatever it was with Jungkook was different. It felt like he’d been cast ashore into the North Sea, but oddly calm even while treading water.
“Hyung-”
“You can’t say anything to anyone. Taehyung. You can’t say anything to Jungkook especially.” For a second, they stared silently at each other; Taehyung’s eyes always seemed to be able to look right through you, and Hoseok felt stripped bare underneath his gaze.
“Why?” And Hoseok knew Taehyung meant why not.
“It’s weird. It’s just a – I wasn’t used to seeing him after the summer. It’s passing, and it’ll go away. I don’t want it to get all weird. Tae please just … let’s not talk about it okay. He’s not even in fifth year, and I’m going to be graduating and after this year I’ll barely see him again.” His voice got a little higher at the end, and that seemed to settle the matter. Taehyung stepped forward to pull him into a hug, and Hoseok let out a shuddering breath. It felt like he’d just narrowly avoided some sort of certain death. And while the feeling of unexplainable doom seemed to linger, Taehyung’s arm slung through his own as they walked the rest of the way back quelled the unrest in him for now.
~*~
As it turned out, the looming time pressure of the upcoming examinations did most of the work of getting his crush on Jungkook out of his mind. He barely saw anyone apart from Namjoon, and even Taehyung was busy with his 6th year schedules; apart from breakfasts spent together and trying to catch up across the tables at dinner, their little group seemed scattered and disparate up until the first Hogsmeade weekend.
Hoseok tried to write away the first blush that crept up his neck when he saw Jungkook waiting by the doors for them, beaming and waving his arms as he called them over; he tried to ignore the second blush when Jungkook grabbed his arm as he almost slipped on a patch of ice, and refused to let go until they’d reached the cobblestones; he valiantly wanted to pretend the third blush didn’t happen at all when Jungkook finally undid his blue and bronze scarf to reveal pink cheeks, oversized glasses that made his eyes seem even bigger and brighter, and puffy red lips slightly chapped from the cold. All just – mere coincidences.
He did make it a point to ignore Taehyung’s questioning looks though, kicking at him under the table and apologizing as Namjoon keeled over instead, howling in pain. If Jungkook’s frantic, choking laughter and shrill giggles over the mess of the situation lingered with him for hours after, he ignored that too.
By the time they stumbled out of Rosmerta’s, all bubbly and warm and punch-drunk, Namjoon and Taehyung had wandered off arguing about the best way to administer essence of dittany on non-humans, leaving them to trail behind. Hoseok had almost, almost forgotten about the whole crush situation, until he felt an arm snake through his, holding on so tightly it felt like a vice grip around his heart too.
“Jungkook?”
“It’s slippery. I have a Quidditch game next week, I can’t afford to fall and break an arm.” Jungkook’s voice sounded a little reedy and thin, and Hoseok – every thought of the crush evaporating into the cold November air – pulled Jungkook’s scarf a little tighter around his neck, sighing in mock exasperation. He held him a little closer as they set off towards the castle, their steps careful and measured as they moved with the crowd.
“You can’t fall sick either. Sorry I haven’t really been around, all of the professors are dumping lots of work on us for N.E.W.T.S. Have you been eating well? You know Tae still has that stash somewhere in … okay you know what never mind some of that’s been around since Spring. It’s probably a cesspool of mold by now. Gross. Go down to the kitchens sometime, Cissy and Corky can probably whip you up something.” Jungkook’s laugh was muffled through the scarf, but it cheered him up anyway; it was warm and comforting, even better than butterbeer.
“I’ve been doing okay, hyung. Cissy and I are becoming good friends now, she knows all my favourite recipes and it’s been okay without you guys … I just kinda practice flying. Don’t tell Namjoon-hyung he’s gonna ask me about arithmancy again I told him I was getting tutored, but I may drop it before O.W.L.S next year I’m worse at it than muggle math – oh! The other day I managed to conjure orchids from my wand after just three tries, I was one of the fastest in class too and my orchids were really pretty.” Hoseok smiled at the excitement in Jungkook’s voice; in the midst of everything, he’d forgotten what it was like to just hang out like this. Usually it was the whole group, or just him and Joon – but there was something peaceful about being around Jungkook. Everything seemed a little brighter, a little more beautiful with him around.
“Three? Wow. What happened to the one-flick wonder? Losing your touch?” His teasing earned him a light shove, the two of them grabbing onto each other in order to not lose their balance. Face buried in Jungkook’s coat as they stumbled up the path together, Hoseok felt like perhaps this really would pass in time, lingering only as a fond memory he’d look back upon.
~*~
After that it became a lot easier to simply be around Jungkook again. Hoseok still got butterflies in his stomach, but the initial rush of nervousness had subsided. As the middle of the term passed, they found small ways to meet up – Wednesday evenings, they’d huddle in the warmth of the Hufflepuff common room and do homework; Friday afternoons, the older three would watch Jungkook wrangle some creature for class and then they’d all split a snack Taehyung acquired from the elves; Saturday mornings, they’d gather in a corner of the library, with Namjoon and Jungkook inevitably arguing over Quidditch plays, and Taehyung helping Hoseok with some astronomy work until they all got too loud and were kicked out by the eagle-eyed, tight-lipped librarian.
Taehyung stopped trying to bring up the issue, which Hoseok was eternally grateful for. If Namjoon had noticed any signs of his crush he hadn’t brought it up. And Hoseok wasn’t going to give him any reason to. Still, the 7th years made time for their own study sessions without Taehyung or Jungkook around (so they could actually be productive) and Hoseok doesn’t know who’s the first one to broach the topic because all of a sudden, the question’s hanging in the air:
“I think I might like guys?”
Namjoon blinks like an owl when he’s surprised – slow, his eyes going wide. Hoseok thinks he probably looks more like a panicked deer, caught in the headlights.
“Oh thank god I thought it was just me.” Namjoon’s whimper is weak and shaky, and Hoseok sees the tenseness in his shoulders evaporate. The rest of the session doesn’t involve straightening out their wonky arithmancy charts or finishing troll rights timelines as planned – instead Namjoon tells him of the muggle boy back home who’s tall with a strong jaw, and Hoseok bemoans the shoulder pads of Quidditch uniforms and laughs as Namjoon nods in understanding. It’s another barrier he didn’t even know they’d had – three years is a long time to keep something under wraps, but Namjoon’s done it with grace. Or maybe Hoseok was just too caught up in himself. There are so many questions left unanswered and unspoken by the end of the night, but as they’re walking out of the library, Namjoon wishes out loud there could be a space in the castle where they could be guaranteed privacy to talk about things like this. Away from prying eyes.
It’s only years later, out of the blue, that Hoseok will remember that he never ever told Namjoon about the Room of Requirement. Only Jungkook.
~*~
Nights turn into days turn into evenings cloistered in corners of the campus, talking about boys and wanting to kiss them. Jungkook and Taehyung aren’t quite welcome to these sessions – knowing the way they stare at others’ backs sometimes, Hoseok knows they’d probably benefit from these too. But he's afraid he’ll let spill something, so instead he tries not to worry too much about implications, tries to convince himself that it’s best they keep the young ones out of their almost-adult worries.
Evening heart-to-hearts turn into the careful press of lips to lips; it turns into something more casual than a relationship, grounded in years of friendship and trust. Namjoon is Hoseok’s first kiss, and he’s maybe Namjoon’s third or fourth. They kiss in secret – below the bleachers, sticky from grass and mud; in the alcoves dotting the higher floors, before curfew hits. It’s one of those ‘things’ you never name, and it pushes the crush out of his mind easily enough. Dulls it down to a slow hum when he sees Jungkook smile at him, and okay okay, that’s a level of distraction he can manage, can quash even further.
Their unspoken agreement is that it’s a sort of lazy comfort – they’re 17, almost 18 soon, their N.E.W.T.S are coming up, and they’re pulled a thousand different ways. It’s nice to know that Namjoon has his back, has his secrets locked away. Sometimes he thinks Namjoon sees the way he looks at Jungkook (and Hoseok knows he does, because he can feel the stirring of something sad and whiny in him when he does), but he never says a thing about it. So Hoseok doesn’t mention it.
Eventually exams happen – Namjoon almost gets a panic attack halfway through ancient runes, and Hoseok nearly slips and breaks his leg during potions because someone spilled ox blood on the floor – and exams end. And the springtime of their youth is distilled down to a stuffy ceremony on the lawns, their graduating class decked out in ceremonial robes trimmed in house colours and heavy with the weight of the world.
He can feel Taehyung and Jungkook’s gazes on the back of his neck, and indeed once the formalities are all over he turns to find Taehyung jumping onto him for a hug, bemoaning how he’ll miss them so much.
“Hyung.”
And there it is. The vortex that seems to exist whenever Jungkook says his name – sucking out the world, replacing it with a kind of fullness that sits heavy in his gut. Taehyung pats him once on the back before going to pester Namjoon. And Hoseok is faced with the tall, filled-out frame of a tearful, sniffling Jungkook. It’s funny to see how much time changes you and yet (his stomach back to doing clumsy somersaults in his gut as he rushes to dab away at the tears with his sleeve) it’s funny how much has stayed the same.
“I’m not even gone yet, Kook-ah. Why’re you crying?”
“Will you write?”
“Of course,” It’s absurd – Jungkook is noticeably taller, his shoulders broader and thicker from Quidditch, but all Hoseok can think of is the frightened first-year who burst through those doors four years back and wormed his way into his heart. “I’ll write you no matter where I end up. Tell me if Tae does anything stupid, I’ll send him a howler.”
Jungkook’s smile is beautiful to see, and Hoseok silently chides himself. He almost ruined this. Almost brought it crashing down.
“I already miss you, hyung. You guys are leaving me with Tae? That’s not fair, how’ll I survive classes without Namjoon-hyung.”
“You know Tae’s top of his class in astronomy right? Also wow, what am I then, just a useless side piece?” It’s supposed to be a throwaway joke but the look on Jungkook’s face is so stricken that Hoseok combusts internally and ends up choking out a laugh, not stopping even when Jungkook relaxes.
“Dumbass. Now the train ride’s gonna be weird. Just for that, give me all of the chocolate frogs you have left. I’m not gonna be able to steal them from you anymore y’know.” Jungkook pouts as they walk over to where Namjoon and Taehyung are arguing over, but he doesn’t let go of Hoseok’s arm until they’re back on the train together for the last time ever, bickering over snacks and bemoaning an escaped frog as it melts on the hot leather seat.
~*~
Hoseok always keeps his promises, especially to Jungkook. So he writes a letter or two every evening, even if he never posts all of them. Most of them are short, barely half a page-long, his lettering shaky from fatigue, the contents themselves sparse and bare because he just isn’t doing much as a trainee with the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes office.
< 7 June. Magical Reversal training sucks. You don’t learn this in class AT ALL. How can they teach us how to transfigure things one way but not the other?! I think I forgot everything after my exams ): Help me Obi Jeon Keboni (did I spell that right?) You’re my only hope. >
< 17 July. How’s Quidditch? Did Joon write? Tae sent me a pictograph (? HELP I FAILED MUG STUDIES OKAY) of him holding some llama toy. I guess mine must still be in transit. Kim Namjoon better deliver or else I’m ending this friendship!! Seokjin-hyung says hello, I met him for lunch today! We’ve been eating lunch every day actually. I can’t believe he’s really a Healer. He also said Joon threw floo powder when he told him the same thing. Rude. Friendship with Kim Namjoon ENDS NOW. >
< 22 July I miss getting my owl. I miss King’s Cross. Dawon-noona said she saw you in Malkin’s the other day and you said hi. She said you got taller. Mickey misses you. I miss you. Is it too late to invite you over for the summer? >
< 25 July DON’T SURPRISE ME LIKE THAT I’m so sorry I threw an orange at your face but I totally made up for it with dinner right! Thanks for stopping by, I know you’ve been busy packing. 5th year’s gonna be great! Hang in there and ask Tae for help, okay? Please keep him alive. (Current bet with Seokjin-hyung & Joon is he’ll get bitten by a flobberworm in the 3rd week the seer on the corner says so. 5 Galleons so far – wanna join?) >
By the time November rolls around, he’s settled in. Being a field agent is pretty cool, so long as he doesn’t deal with splinching cases (after he passed out on his first one he’s pretty sure his supervisor is deliberately assigning them to him though). It’s not the first department he applied for, but it was the first to accept him and he’d jumped on it without hesitation; so far it was … it was good. It really was. Except for the blood. That wasn’t so good.
Over the months, the days blur together – letters from Namjoon postmarked from tiny South American cities Hoseok couldn’t even find on a map; lunches with Seokjin where they complained about the inefficacy of dealing with magical bureaucracy; an ongoing argument with Taehyung about the use of magical music enhancements; and a regular correspondence with Jungkook – seven per week, Jungkook’s complaints about classes in his trademark neat slant a contrast to his messy scrawl about bureaucratic mishaps. For a while it felt like his little family was still held tight – their sails taut against the winds of change, and Hoseok was buckled safely below deck.
But no ship can stay so steady forever – his work picked up, and his letters to the others dwindled down to two, even one a week. Seokjin’s job was starting to get hectic, and sometimes they could barely knock a butterbeer down before he was either running off for an emergency or passing out from sheer fatigue. Jungkook was the only one he made an effort to keep up the letters with, but even one letter seemed too much sometimes, compared to the sweet welcome of his bed, or (worse, but necessary) overtime on a case.
Eventually those trickled down to once a week, once a fortnight, maybe twice a month. He made friends with new people too – Yoongi, from International Magical Cooperation, whom he’d known through Dawon but had never really hung out with till they got partnered for some interdepartmental project; Jimin, then a fresh hitwizard-in-training that Taehyung had introduced to him as a “good friend” when the three of them had met for dinner a week after Taehyung’s graduation. Hoseok closed one eye to the guilt roiling within him as he thought of Jungkook alone in Hogwarts – but he hadn’t complained about the dwindling letters, and Taehyung assured him that Jungkook wasn’t lonely.
So that’s how it went.
~*~
When he accepted the transfer to Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, it’d been with the promise of a better position, better pay, more fieldwork that involved helping others rather than just patching up mistakes. All of which did happen, to his sweet relief – creatures were so much nicer (and less bloody) than humans, and it just seemed a lot smoother.
Which didn’t make sense because his clerk sucked. No one had mentioned that he’d get a clerk at all, and some days it felt he hadn’t. Work untouched, papers unfiled, overdue forms. It was disgusting. Hoseok could tell he was letting off steam in the field: his voice strung thin, his commands and spells harsh and rude. So when they finally – finally – told him he would be reassigned one, it was a huge wave of relief. Someone new, someone to look forward to.
He just didn’t expect to see Jungkook in his office, looking as jittery as every other new hire on the floor. Belatedly he realized he’d missed his graduation, and something in him cracked as Jungkook turned and –
Wow. He’d really missed out on a lot. Had he gotten even taller? Broader? Handsomer? He was running out of adjectives as fast as he was losing his cool. Focus, Hoseok.
“Yeah, I guess I am. Didn’t know you applied here, I thought maybe Games and Sports would fit you better.” Hoseok closed the office door behind them, painfully aware that everyone was out and it would just be the two of them here today. Jungkook just shrugged back, and Hoseok caught the nervous tics he’d missed so much – a gnaw of the lips, a tapping of fingers.
“Yeah they accepted me first, so I took it. I didn’t know you were here either.” He grinned at the similarities, heart lifting as Jungkook mirrored it without seeming to notice.
“I was. Too gory. Creatures are a lot kinder, nicer. It’s just the people who’re difficult but I’m no longer dealing with splinching so who wins? I do.” The face Jungkook pulled was so cute that for a second, Hoseok forgot the absurdity of the whole situation. That he was now his boss, his direct superior – and when was the last time he’d written him a letter? Were they still friends? How long had they not been?
“Hey, everyone’s out and I don’t have anything on. Do you wanna catch up? There’s a good muggle café nearby. Seokjin-hyung and I used to go a lot.”
“Your treat, right boss?” Ah yes, there it was – that cheeky grin, that innocent hum. Maybe nothing had changed after all.
“Brat. You still owe me a chocolate frog, don’t think I forgot. Did they ever get that stain out of the seat?”
“Hyung, we’re wizards. Of course they did.”
~*~
The café had led to hours of talking, had led to dinner, had led to a table in the corner of a bar in Diagon Alley (drinking around muggles was not a good idea … lesson learnt from a night out with Yoongi a while back), nursing three drinks each and waiting on a fourth. Hoseok hadn’t drunk seriously in a while (months, if not years, for sure) but he was reuniting with Jungkook so this was surely worth something.
“… Honestly? I’m glad it’s you. God I wanted to fire my old one he was useless but I can’t do that yet I’m still a junior officer y’know? I put in transfer requests but they all got turned down because he got the bare minimum done who does that.” Something in him was screaming to stop before he got ahead – to pay and leave before someone said something stupid but instead he kept his mouth opened and tongue loose, drunk on the flush in Jungkook’s cheeks.
“I was kinda scared. I didn’t know anyone in the offices … Taehyung-hyung’s working in Hogsmeade right? And then Seokjin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung … I haven’t seen them in a while. I think Namjoon-hyung’s in Mongolia now? He sent me some weird cheese I haven’t opened.” Jungkook pursed his lips before smacking them, and something in Hoseok – something he hadn’t thought about in years broke through at the thought that if he’d done something different maybe they’d still be at this bar except the last time he talked to Jungkook could have been yesterday instead of at his own Graduation and –
“I had a crush on you.” Jungkook stilled, grip on his pint growing tighter. Hoseok should have quit right there and then, but Jungkook was right in front of him after so long and it seemed as though his years of hard work and denial had just evaporated right there and then.
“Had?”
“We were still in school.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Seventh year.” Bad idea bad idea. Jungkook looked dazed, and Hoseok prattled on like a bad Wronski Feint about to crash but he couldn’t pull away because it was inevitable so he might as well get his doom over with –
“I was in my final year and it was weird I mean I didn’t want our relationship to change, everything was changing and I was graduating and you weren’t – I mean you’re three years younger-”
“You didn’t?”
“Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t want it to change?” There was something in Jungkook’s tone. Something dangerous and fragile. Hoseok wanted to shove it under a rug and pretend it didn’t exist. But Jungkook was staring at him with the most closed-off expression he’d ever seen and Hoseok knew he’d crossed a line.
“Jungkook. You were fourteen.”
“I’m nineteen now.”
“That’s now. This was then.”
“So you don’t?”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t have feelings for me anymore?” The line. Fuck. They’d just decimated the line now. Left it so far behind he couldn’t see it, not from here in the deep, deep abyss he’d gone and sunk himself into. Hoseok got to his feet, wincing as his knee banged the tabletop but it didn’t matter because he had to get out of here now.
“Why’re you asking me this.” His tone came out too sharp, too raw. Fuck. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Jungkook looked like he’d been punched and Hoseok bit back a sudden urge to vomit.
“Hyung-”
“No. Jungkook don’t … let’s not talk about this okay. I’m your superior at work. I’m- I’m not your friend in that capacity. This was inappropriate. I’m sorry.” He fished out a bunch of notes that was surely too much, hastily grabbing his coat and bag as he ignored the panic rising in his throat. Sour, disgusting panic; fear; misery; distress. He had to go now, and the pleading look on Jungkook’s face was not helping.
“Hyung – Hoseok-hyung, wait-”
But he’d turned on his heel and disappeared already, eyes closed so he wouldn’t see the confusion and hurt in Jungkook’s face.