Chapter Text
If there was one thing that was clear, it was that the Intro to Music TA, Min Yoongi, definitely had a fascination with the macabre. It wasn’t just Yoongi’s inclination towards dangly crucifix earrings or even his all-black-and-maybe-dark-gray wardrobe. No, Hoseok was almost one-hundred percent sure—Yoongi had a fixation on all things dark and mopey.
While not entirely his cup of tea, Hoseok’s own interest in the paranormal certainly had him in contact with all realms of morbid curiosities and, thus, when he saw the part lion, hippopotamus, and crocodile figure Yoongi was absent-mindedly sketching away at in his notebook at the beginning of the semester, Hoseok recognized it for what it was right away. “Oh, hey, Ammut. Devourer of the Dead. Cool.”
Yoongi turned to look at Hoseok with such a look of contempt that Hoseok actually second-guessed his knowledge, to the point that he rushed to his seat just to pull out his phone to double-check. Much to Hoseok’s relief, his limited knowledge of ancient Egyptian religion had not failed him.
That was only the beginning. After that initial meeting, Hoseok found himself constantly catching Yoongi surrounded with all kinds of tokens of the macabre.
Serial killers, for one. Yoongi seemed to always be reading a book about one or another, some with names that Hoseok recognized, others that he had never heard of. And Hoseok always asked, always—which was weird for him, considering he usually avoided such topics in the interest of avoiding a repeat of the past. Not with Yoongi, though. He couldn’t help it, he was interested. Yoongi was interesting.
It was always the same. “New book?” Hoseok would ask.
“Yep,” Yoongi would respond with a flip of the page—and that would be it, just, “Yep.”
At times Yoongi wouldn’t even say anything, simply nodding, other times there would be the barest acknowledging grunt. That was just Yoongi, Hoseok realized.
If it wasn’t serial killers, it was graveyards. The amount of catalogues on European cemeteries that Yoongi could be found leafing through in a week would shock anyone. For Hoseok, it was just relatable. He had an entire box under his bed dedicated to books on haunted locations in Seoul, after all.
(Not that he would ever actually admit to their existence, however. Or, you know, read one outside of the confines of his bedroom or anything.)
Hoseok would ask about those, too, the graveyard books. It was the same as with the serial killers—one word or a grunt, conversation over. Even if Hoseok was able to make a more concise remark on Yoongi's reading material of the day, all the more responses he'd get would be maybe a set of narrowed eyes or a huff.
Even with the limited response on the other's part, Hoseok couldn't help but continue his commentary every time he spied Yoongi because how did he just fearlessly read that stuff out in the open like that? Hoseok could never. Not ever again, at least.
No, Hoseok’s less-than-ordinary interests were best left tucked away at home.
Still, Yoongi was really something.
That early Monday morning was like any other. Hoseok had been up late watching a documentary on the Loch Ness Monster the night before, waking up groggy and stiff after falling asleep next to his laptop. It had become a weekend ritual of sorts: staying out too late to upkeep his social status, only to rush home on Sunday evening to finally, finally pull out whatever content he had on a certain creature or myth that he’d been dying to comb through all weekend.
Consequently, when Hoseok entered the classroom that morning, he was the customary underslept version of himself that waltzed into Intro to Music every Monday morning, bare faced and drowning in an oversized hoodie. Ruffling his hair, Hoseok glanced over to see Yoongi in his usual spot at the back of the classroom, his nose already buried in a book. A new one, Hoseok noted.
“Vampires today, huh? That’s different.” Hoseok leaned over the front of Yoongi’s desk, peering at the cover.
“Yeah, vampires.” Yoongi paused, taking a moment to flip the book shut, leaving his finger as a page marker. “Have you read it?”
Hoseok, who was already preparing to turn and settle into his seat, froze to stare at Yoongi. Yoongi had never uttered more than two words before. That was four words in one go. Six total. Had Hoseok heard right? “What, uh—what was that?”
Yoongi cleared his throat, “Just wondering if you had read this one before?” Hoseok glanced behind himself only to see a set of empty desks; Yoongi sighed, “Yes, I’m talking to you.”
“Oh, uh,” Hoseok rubbed at his neck sheepishly, “yeah, I have. Read that book, I mean. I actually read that one last month.”
“Cool. Did you like it?”
“It’s pretty good.” Hoseok perked up, any restraint fading upon Yoongi’s question. “I’d really recommend The Encyclopedia of Vampires, though. If you’re going for vampire nonfiction, that is.”
Yoongi snorted, “Yeah, definitely not looking for Twilight, that’s for sure.” Hoseok giggled, and Yoongi grinned in response.
“Alright,” the professor walked in, clapping loudly. “Weekend’s over. Everyone to their seats, we’ve got a lot to cover today,” he bellowed, motioning absently to the rows of now filling desks as he dug through his bag.
Hoseok offered Yoongi a small half-wave, which was returned, before he turned to find his desk.
It wasn’t until Hoseok lowered himself into his seat that he began to feel funny about the whole exchange with Yoongi. Hoseok had been annoying Yoongi for the past two months and yet, even with all his interest in the TA’s brazen reading habits, Hoseok had yet to elicit an actual conversation out of him. So where did that come from? How exactly had Hoseok ended up having his first paranormal-based conversation since middle school with Yoongi, the man that had made it plenty clear that he loathed Hoseok’s existence?
Just the previous Friday, Yoongi had full-on glowered at Hoseok’s advances. Glowered. That Monday’s exchange must have been a fluke. An anomaly.
That was the only explanation that made sense.
And yet, the very next class it wasn’t Hoseok who initiated the dialogue, it was Yoongi. “Hey, I checked out that book,” Yoongi said the moment Hoseok was in the classroom, Yoongi motioning to him with a wave of the paperback in his hand.
Hoseok squinted at the display, slowly making his way to Yoongi’s corner of the room. There, clasped in Yoongi’s large fingers, was The Encyclopedia of Vampires. Hoseok’s jaw went slack. “You—you checked out the book,” he repeated lamely.
“Yeah,” Yoongi looked down at it with a grin. “I was up all night reading it. The part about the vampiric crimes was pretty legit.” He looked up at Hoseok expectantly, who stared in silence for a beat too long before awkwardly coughing into his hand.
“Uh, yeah,” Hoseok glanced around—there had to be a crack in the seam of their reality or something, but he couldn’t see one. “Yeah, that part was interesting.”
Yoongi made a happy noise, beaming as he slid the book into Hoseok’s grasp. “Thanks for the recommendation.”
“Oh. Sure. Anytime.”
Back in his seat, Hoseok tried to play it cool, but the instinct to turn and stare was making it difficult. That was weird. Really weird. The sudden one-eighty, was that something that actually happened? Did Hoseok miss something, because it felt like he was experiencing an alternate reality. He thought back, wondering if he had accidentally made his way through a wormhole. A rift, maybe?
Hoseok was still reeling when he sat in the campus cafeteria for lunch, unthinkingly mumbling to himself as he repetitively swirled his soup.
“Hobi-hyung.”
Hoseok pursed his lips, thinking, still stirring.
“Hyung!”
Hoseok’s head snapped up, eyes meeting the concerned gaze of Jimin. “Huh?” Hoseok managed, halting his spoon’s path.
Jimin leaned forward in his chair, brows furrowed as he rested his elbows on the table. “Hobi-hyung, you’ve been so out of it today. Anything wrong? Anything I can help with?”
Hoseok felt a jolt of panic. Vampiric book recommendations and the macabre-loving TA—not something he wanted Jimin knowing about. Or anyone, for that matter. Too risky. Too… honest. The kind of honesty that no one actually wanted to know about.
“Oh, no!” Hoseok insisted, waving a dismissive hand. “No, just… studying on the go. You know, running the music terms vocab through my head.” He nervously gestured at his head with too quick movements, nearly smacking himself in the face. “Ah, yeah—that’s all. Nothing to worry about, Jiminie.” Hoseok smiled, reaching his hand across the table to give Jimin’s a squeeze. “Thank you, though. Really.”
Jimin gave Hoseok a look but eventually relaxed in his chair with a sigh, picking up his chopsticks. “Good, that’s good. But if you’re stressed about something, you know that you can talk to me, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Hoseok nudged Jimin under the table with his foot playfully.
The next time Hoseok stepped into Intro to Music, Yoongi was already waiting for him, a new book in hand. “I thought you might be interested in this one,” he said, offering the hardback to Hoseok.
Hoseok took it, gazing down at the cover. “The Mad Science of Body Swapping?”
“Yeah, it’s total pseudoscience,” Yoongi admitted with a chuckle. “But it was really fun to read.”
Turning the book in his hands, Hoseok read the book’s bolded tagline out loud, “‘From storytelling device to reality, the advanced science of body swapping.’”
Hoseok flipped the book open, glancing through the prologue. Hoseok could hear the rustle of clothing as Yoongi shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat, “If it’s not your cup of tea I can—” he reached for the book.
“Oh, no!” Hoseok pulled the book from Yoongi’s reach, leaving Yoongi looking bewildered with his arm still hanging in the air. “I mean, yes. Yes, this is absolutely my cup of tea. Thank you.”
Yoongi smiled really wide at that. Hoseok liked that smile.
There was a floaty, light feeling that followed Hoseok for the rest of the day. Like drifting on a cloud, warmed by the sunlight sort of dizzy happiness. He had to combat the urge to skip jovially multiple times, and, in his excitement, may have spent too much money at the bookstore grabbing further research for his weekend binge. Hoseok had shared friendly book suggestions before, sure, but never on weird topics like body-swapping—weird topics that were exactly up his alley.
The wait until his Sunday night ritual was excruciating. Never in Hoseok’s entire life had he been this excited for a book. (Books now, including those accumulated on his spending spree.) When he was finally released from his societal duties at the karaoke joint, Hoseok rushed home half-drunk and without a voice, wasting no time settling himself into his bed, surrounded by exactly five books, Yoongi’s nestled in the middle. At nearly eleven o’clock, Hoseok began reading.
Hoseok was unsure when he drifted off, but he woke with his face in the fifth book, drool tainting the page. He groaned as he sat up, kneading at his neck. It took him longer than normal to wake up, and when he entered the classroom he was still in the sweatpants and sweatshirt that he had slept in, hair left in the shape of a brown nest.
“Rough night?” Yoongi asked with a smirk, sipping casually from a vented coffee cup.
The sight sent a fresh surge of energy through Hoseok, who couldn’t help but to dash over to Yoongi’s desk, bubbling with excitement, “I read the book!” he exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Actually, I read four and a half books. I stayed up way too late, obviously.” He gestured at his appearance with a laugh.
Yoongi’s eyes went wide, mouth frozen over the half-tilted coffee cup. “Four books?”
“Four and a half,” Hoseok amended, “I may have gotten overexcited.” He giggled, turning his backpack to pull out The Mad Science of Body Swapping. “This one was the best, though, I’ve got to admit.” He passed it to Yoongi, who stood to receive it with a chuckle.
“What was your favorite part?” Yoongi asked, tucking the book into his bag.
“Definitely the part on mind uploading. The part about swapping bodies with, like, a spell was funny though, because how could people not notice if that happened to someone they knew?”
Yoongi settled himself back into his chair, taking a long sip of his coffee. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, one day your friend is acting one way, and then the next—” Hoseok stopped mid sentence with a sharp inhale, eyes trained on Yoongi, who had set down his cup and was now twirling a pen in his fingers.
“You never know,” Yoongi mused, looking up to meet Hoseok’s eyes, “maybe people you would never consider have been body swapped and are still swapped right this very minute.” Hoseok unwittingly squeaked, clutching his bag to his chest.
“I feel ill,” Hoseok lied.
Before Yoongi could utter another word, Hoseok was already halfway down the hallway, breathing heavy, backpack held tightly to his body as he ran.
It all made sense now. Yoongi’s sudden turn around, being buddy-buddy with Hoseok, offering books, chit-chatting like longtime friends—oh gosh, it was so obvious. There’s no way any of that was real. No one actually wanted to swap strange books and have friendly discussions about them with Hoseok. No way. Especially not someone like Yoongi. That person, the one feigning interest, that wasn’t Yoongi. Yoongi had practically told him that very thing just now, hadn’t he?
Maybe people you would never consider have been body swapped and are still swapped right this very minute.
There was only one conclusion to be drawn from that—Min Yoongi, the grumpy, mint-haired TA with a love for the macabre: he had been body swapped.
Hoseok spent the following evening combing through all five of the body swapping books, looking for something, anything to tell him what steps he was supposed to take next. There was nothing. A lot of theories, a lot of conjecture, but no actual usable piece of information that would tell Hoseok what to do in the case of someone being body swapped.
One thing that did occur to Hoseok was the idea that perhaps Yoongi had willingly body swapped. Not all swapping incidents had to be due to contact with some ancient Chinese artifact trying to teach some worldly lessons, did they? Besides, if the new owner of Yoongi’s body wasn’t complaining, that probably meant the original Yoongi was totally cool with the transition… right?
But what if he wasn’t, Hoseok’s mind screamed. What if the new guy now chatting up Hoseok was some old man who had forcefully taken over Yoongi’s body to be young again! Sure, Yoongi certainly acted like a brittle, unhappy elder—he even walked like one, waddle and all—but that certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to actually become one, right?
Yoongi was a pretty good target, too. At least, Hoseok thought so, admitting to himself that he would have totally considered Yoongi for a body swap. You know, if he was an old man without a conscience. Yoongi was cute. Really cute, with his doll like face, a rosy, pouting mouth that was often caught between his teeth in thought, not to mention his dark eyelashes that—
Hoseok furiously shook his head. He was getting off track. Right, he needed a plan. Something to expose the body snatcher—if that was the case.
But how?
Getting up the following morning was a struggle, but Hoseok pushed through the weight that lack of sleep left on him to ready himself for the short walk to campus. There was no Intro to Music that day, but there was something even better: Yoongi’s office hours.
Perfect.
Hoseok stopped in front of an opaque glass door, milky white text scrawled across it in all caps: MUSIC DEPARTMENT. Hoseok gulped, fumbling in his pocket for the sheet of paper he had collected on his way out of his apartment. “Quick review,” he mumbled, eyes darting over the checklist. “Right,” he breathed, steadying himself. “Okay, you’ve got this.” He pushed into the office.
Yoongi glanced up from where he was seated—a cushy red armchair by the broad expanse of a window—early morning sun a glowing backlight. “Hoseok-ssi?” Yoongi stood, removing his glasses.
“Yoongi-ssi,” Hoseok breathed in deeply, puffing his chest in the process. “I have a… a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Yoongi gestured to the empty armchair across from his own. “Please, have a seat.”
Hoseok seated himself, taking a moment to wiggle around for a comfortable spot before turning to face Yoongi. “Yoongi-ssi,” he started, pulling his face into a serious look.
Yoongi settled himself, giving Hoseok his full attention. “Yes?”
“Have you had any fortune cookies lately?”
There was silence. Yoongi stared at Hoseok, eyes like saucers. “Huh?”
“You know, have you been a Chinese restaurant lately? Had any fortune cookies? Like, the folded ones with the little paper inside?”
Yoongi’s ears were tinting pink and he began to smile in the most adorable way. “No, can’t say I have. What about—”
“What about antique stores? Been to any of those lately?” Hoseok continued, gaze still deadpan.
To this Yoongi pursed his mouth, looking confused. “Again, no. What is this—”
“Been in contact with any meteors?”
“What, no—”
“Wished on any fallen stars?”
“Not recently?”
“Kissed anyone?”
Now Yoongi’s ears were bright red. “Not recently—”
Hoseok jumped up, nodding in satisfaction. Yoongi looked utterly stumped as he looked up, watching as Hoseok folded the paper and tucked it into his back pocket. “Thanks, then, Yoongi-ssi.” Hoseok bowed and turned to leave.
“Wait, I don’t—”
“See you in class tomorrow!” With that, Hoseok was gone.
“So, not a body swap, huh,” Hoseok mumbled to himself as he descended the staircase back to the street. “Time for plan B, I guess.”
Plan B was a doppelganger. Hoseok cornered Yoongi after class the next morning, walking up as Yoongi was mid-stretch, arms reached high above his head. Hoseok had to willfully avoid the sliver of milky white that peeked out at the base of Yoongi’s hoodie. “So, Yoongi-ssi, up to any mischief lately?”
Yoongi scratched at his bangs, yawning. “Mischief?”
Hoseok shrugged. “Yeah, you know. Any shenanigans.”
“Uh,” Yoongi scrunched his nose, thinking. “No, not really. You?”
“No, definitely not,” Hoseok laughed. “What about school? School going okay for you? Not suddenly sabotaging your entire life’s work or anything, right?”
“No… none of that. School’s fine.” Yoongi eyed Hoseok, suspicious. “What about you?”
“Good, good. I’m good. School’s good.” Hoseok glanced down at his notebook. “Gosh, this one’s hard to gauge.”
“What’s hard to gauge?”
“Oh,” Hoseok shut his notebook in a hurry, stashing it behind his back. “Nothing.”
Yoongi raised a brow. “Nothing, huh?”
“Yep. Nothing at all.” Yoongi didn’t look convinced, so Hoseok continued, “Hey, did you see that Bigfoot documentary last night?”
“Bigfoot?”
“Yeah, you know. That giant hairy guy that runs around North America?”
With a laugh, Yoongi nodded, sinking back into his chair. “Yeah, I know the guy. I didn’t watch. Was it any good?”
“Pretty good,” Hoseok settled into the desk closest to Yoongi, tucking his notebook back into his backpack. “No new evidence, unfortunately.”
“Personally, I think Nessie is much cooler.”
Hoseok looked up at Yoongi with bright eyes. “The Loch Ness Monster?”
“Yeah, she’s much more interesting than an overgrown hairy dude, don’t you think?”
“I definitely agree.”
Seated in front of his jajangmyeon at dinner later that evening, Hoseok couldn’t help but hum a happy tune as he began to stir his noodles. Taehyung noticed, pausing his own mixing to tickle at Hoseok’s side. “Someone’s in a good mood,” Taehyung teased as Hoseok yelped, swatting his hands away. “When you missed lunch I got worried, but I guess I didn’t need to be. Spill.”
“I guess had a… a really good conversation with a guy,” Hoseok cautiously admitted before taking a large bite of his noodles, as if to stop any further details from coming out.
“A guy!” Jimin dropped his utensils, standing up to lean forward and grasp Hoseok’s face in his hands, nearly causing Hoseok to choke. “You didn’t tell me there was a guy.”
“I didn’t say that there was a guy,” Hoseok sputtered, pulling Jimin’s hands from his face. “I just said it was a guy, not a guy.”
“Yeah, but could he be, you know, a guy?” Taehyung questioned, dabbing at the black bean paste on Hoseok’s face.
Hoseok grabbed the napkin from Taehyung, finishing the job with a fervor. “No,” he insisted. “Definitely not.”
The sixth suspicion Hoseok settled upon was a ghost. As in, spiritual possession. Which was apparently still in full effect as Yoongi spotted Hoseok approaching and offered an uncharacteristically enthusiastic wave.
“Hey, Yoongi-ssi,” Hoseok greeted, pulling a vacant chair up to Yoongi’s desk, determinedly sifting through his backpack.
“Hoseok-ah, I told you to call me hyung already.”
“Right. So, hyung,” Hoseok slipped out his notebook, which was beginning to show wear from use, the pages starting to pill at the wire spine. “I have some—”
“Questions, right,” Yoongi snickered into his coffee. “Fire away.”
Hoseok smacked his lips thoughtfully, leafing through the notebook before he found the page he was looking for with an “Ah-ha! Here it is!” He smoothed the page, clasping his hands together. “Okay. Yoongi-hyung—”
“Much better.”
“—do you, or have you ever, been in possession of an ancient weapon of any sort?”
Yoongi tucked his fist up to his mouth, unsuccessfully attempting to stifle a laugh. "Nope—nope, no ancient weapons."
"No katanas? Decrepit daggers?"
"None whatsoever."
"Inherited anything recently?"
"Well, my parents did let me take the family dog—"
Hoseok audibly gasped. "You have a dog?"
"Yes, I have a dog—"
"No way," Hoseok gushed, eagerly leaning forward, the notebook entirely forgotten. "What kind of dog? What's its name?"
Yoongi visibly softened, a dopey grin sneaking onto his face. "His name is Holly, he's a toy poodle. I can—" he tentatively reached for his phone, sending Hoseok a questioning gaze.
"Wait, you have pictures? Oh my gosh. Show me, show me." Hoseok scooted closer, bumping knees with Yoongi in his movement.
Yoongi didn't move away.
That evening, Hoseok lay on his bed, a book on Korean mythology open in his hands, held high over his eyes. He was reading a section on Gasin myths—specifically Cheuksin, the toilet goddess, who Hoseok thought was wholly underappreciated—or, well, he was trying to, at least. When he restarted the same sentence for the fifth time, however, he gave up, tossing the book to the end of the bed.
Hoseok stared at the ceiling fan whipping frenzied circles above him. "A dog, huh." He lay there for a beat, listening to the fan, the makeshift breeze rolling over him.
Holly. Min Holly. Hoseok couldn’t help but smile as he mulled over the pup’s existence, recalling Yoongi’s face as he excitedly flipped through an entire folder of photos of the toy poodle on his phone. Cute. It was painfully cute.
Wait.
If Yoongi was indeed possessed by a spirit—or a demon or whatever, just something—Holly would sense that, right? Hoseok sat up, thoughts running wild. No. That would be crazy. Inviting himself over to Yoongi’s house under the guise of meeting Holly just to blatantly use him as a ghost detector—no, that’s impolite. Right, totally impolite.
Yoongi’s house. A bubble of something warm and unsettling popped in Hoseok’s stomach, unsettling because it was something akin to excitement. Something distracting, exhilarating.
Exhilaration due to the possibility of solving the mystery, that is. Obviously. Nothing more.
Definitely nothing more.