Chapter Text
“Jisungie?” Seungmin asked, coming into his room. Seungmin was such an oddball that Jisung paused his video. He had no idea what words would come out of Seungmin’s mouth next and he had to be ready.
“Yeah?” Jisung asked. He stayed lying down. You couldn’t fall any further if you were already lying down.
“Do you want to break Minho-hyung’s curse today?”
“Today?” Jisung asked, very glad he had chosen to say lying down. He was pretty sure his heart just tried to evacuate his body through his ass. He’d felt Minho’s curse plenty of times and the quality of that magic was well above his skill set.
“Yeah,” Seungmin said mildly. “I’m not busy and Hyung finishes work in an hour.” Easy enough for him to say.
“I don’t know what to do,” Jisung pointed out.
“Draw this on Hyung’s chest,” Seungmin said, throwing his phone over. Jisung expected some complicated fae script, maybe flowing letters or intricate patterns. Not a circle. “It means ‘open’."
“A circle? Really?” Jisung asked. “The world’s oldest curse can be defeated by a circle?”
“An open circle,” Seungmin specified. “The original curse used a closed circle to lock so we need an open circle to unlock. Also you’ll have to draw it in my blood.”
“This family is fucked up,” Jisung sighed, rolling out of his bed reluctantly and handing Seungmin his phone back. “This isn’t even the first blood ritual I’ve done this week.”
***
Minho was immediately up for it because he had even less self-preservation than Jisung. They didn’t even have a full outline for what they were planning. As Jisung would be performing a counterspell and not an additional spell, he couldn’t rely too heavily on words as they would limit his magic’s function. Normally this was a good thing, reducing the number of explosions he created but in this case it could be like building a door over a doorway filled with concrete. No matter how nice the door it would be useless unless he also got rid of the concrete.
Jisung’s magic knew Minho’s body well. Since this idea had first been proposed he had practiced following the curse in Minho’s bloodstream. He followed it into his head and watched it at work and followed it back to his heart where it apparently came into existence from his soul. That part Jisung was less clear on but Seungmin assured him that was how it worked.
“I would like to state again for the record, that your blood is fucking weird,” Jisung said as Seungmin cut the tip of his finger. A milky, faintly blue liquid beaded at the cut. Felix and Minho bled the same but no matter how many times Felix ran into walls Jisung couldn’t get over the difference.
“Your blood is fucking weird,” Seungmin retorted, smearing it in the start of a circle on Minho’s chest. It was the closest they could get physically to his soul. He squeezed his finger and continued painting.
Minho stared up at the ceiling and yawned. “Yeah, Sung. Red’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?”
“Red is a great colour,” Jisung argued. “You look like you’ve got melted bubblegum ice cream running through your veins. Nobody likes bubblegum, it’s a gross flavour.”
“Yeji thinks I taste great,” Minho countered and Jisung leant over him in surprise to look Minho in the eyes. “No, she’s not actually bitten me,” Minho rolled his eyes as he preempted Jisung’s question. “She can just smell it when I sweat in class since sweat is the liquid part of blood.”
Jisung blinked at him as that horrifying knowledge settled in his brain. “I’m going to delete that from my memory later.” He wished he could but messing with his own memories was surprisingly difficult.
“Right, idiots,” Seungmin said, stepping away. “My part is done. Sungie, if you push that circle into his soul it should unlock the curse.”
Sure, as easy as that. Jisung placed his hand over the drying mark. He could feel Minho’s heart beating and when he pushed further with his magic he could feel the curse and further still until there was a faint humming of Minho’s life force.
“I’m going to start now, Hyungie,” Jisung said, not really hearing himself speak.
Minho replied but Jisung couldn’t hear that either. He could feel the vibrations of the words under his fingertips and strangely the hum of his soul changed slightly too. Jisung didn’t know how but he knew it was Minho trusting him. He closed his eyes and focused on that hum, pushing his magic towards it.
It was working, far faster than he expected. He could feel the curse dissolving as he pushed his magic into it. He was nearly there.
“Jisung!” Seungmin said. “Stop! Terra, STOP!”
Jisung held back his magic, and the spell burned at his fingertips, wanting to be completed. With dread already building, Jisung opened his eyes and found a much smaller body in front of him than had been there before.The boy looked about five years old with long dark hair and a button nose. Jisung’s hand now covered most of the boy’s chest, Minho’s half-open shirt covering the rest of his body and Minho’s shoes and jeans now empty.
“Minho-hyung?” he whispered to the tiny boy with his face screwed up in pain. Despite his discomfort, the boy wasn’t making a sound. That was such a typical Minho action Jisung wanted to cry.
“Did it work?” Minho asked hopefully, opening his eyes. He then immediately frowned. “Why is my voice like that?”
Jisung reached forward to help Minho sit up and button up the shirt that was slipping off his shoulders. He was so small and fragile. Jisung was afraid he would squeeze him too hard and break something.
“Jisungie?” Minho asked, looking up at him in confusion. “Why am I small?”
“I’m sorry, Hyung,” Jisung said. Should he even be calling him Hyung anymore? “I think I took away your.. age? Instead of the curse. What can you remember?” God please don’t let him have fucked that up too.
“I am Minho. I am an elf. I like cats, and dancing, and Jisungie. I live with Jisungie and Seungminnie and Hyunjinnie and Innie and Lixie and Changbinnie and Woojinnie-hyung and Channie-hyung.” Minho said proudly. It seemed his memory was fine but perhaps his processing ability had regressed with his body.
“Do you remember what we were doing today, Minho-hyung?” Seungmin asked gently. He was hovering by the end of the bed and seemed to be freaking a lot less than Jisung was. Jisung hoped Seungmin could take the lead now since the mix of magic and losing his hyung was really messing with his emotional stability.
“Making me hear better so I can go on an adventure with Seungminnie,” Minho said with a grin. He was just too cute. Adult Minho was too busy being a tsundere to show joy quite so openly and Jisung liked the assurance that they weren’t really dragging Minho along on the all chaos like he sometimes complained.
“Can I test your hearing then?” Seungmin asked. Minho nodded. “Dogs are better than cats.” Seungmin said in slow, careful fae.
Minho frowned. “You said bugalubglubbubah.”
“I don’t think Jisungie made your hearing better, I’m sorry,” Seungmin said.
“Can you try again, Jisungie?” Minho asked, wrapping his fist around one of Jisung’s fingers and pulling. “If you’re not too tired.”
“I don’t want to do that right now,” Jisung said, picking Minho up and hugging him tightly. He was so small, so light in his arms but he was still here. What would have happened if Seungmin hadn’t stopped him? Would he have completely erased Minho from existence? Sometimes his magic terrified him and right now was one of those times.
“We have to make you big again first, ok?” Jisung whispered into Minho’s hair. He still smelled like Minho and Jisung clung tighter to him, letting the smell of Minho’s coconut shampoo calm him.
Minho wriggled out of his arms and crossly tried to push his sleeves up. His shirt slid off one shoulder again and he waved the sleeve in frustration. Jisung knelt down to help him with the slippery material and with a lot of rolling Minho’s hands finally poked out the ends of the sleeves. “Are you making me big again now?”
“Um, not right now,” Jisung said, startled by how similar Minho’s expressions were on this chubby little face. “Soon. I need to make sure I’ll get it right.” I need to make sure I don’t kill you.
“Ok,” Minho said cheerfully. “I’m going to make toast.” And with that he waddled towards the kitchen.
Jisung exchanged a horrified look with Seungmin and they ran after him.
“Minho you can’t make toast,” Jisung told him, scooping the young boy up by his waist with ease.
“Yes I can,” Minho replied haughtily, wriggling. “I’m very good at making toast.”
Jisung knelt down so Minho wasn’t in danger of falling from his inexperience grip and caged him in with his arms. Minho grunted as he tried to break free but he didn’t have the strength.
“But you can’t reach the stove anymore,” Seungmin pointed out. “And the pan will be too heavy.”
“Well, you can’t make me toast,” Minho said. He had a point there. Both Seungmin and Jisung were terrible at cooking.
“I’ll go get Channie-hyung,” Seungmin offered. “He can make you toast.”
“Channie-hyung is not very good,” Minho said. “His eggs are blurgh.” Jisung had to agree.
“Ok, I’ll make the egg part and Channie-hyung can make the rest, ok?” Seungmin offered.
“Fine,” Minho allowed. “My toast is better though.”
Seungmin left with a wide-eyed panic look to Jisung and then Jisung was alone with tiny Minho. Tiny Minho had escaped and was trying and failing to get up onto one of the bar chairs.
“Do you want help?” Jisung asked, already hovering behind him.
“No,” Minho replied. “I can get on a chair.”
“It’s quite a tall chair though,” Jisung pointed out. He had to hold the chair upright as Minho hauled himself up it. “And you’re quite small.”
“Who’s fault is that?” Minho said with a grunt as he finally got his chest onto the seat. His feet still dangled as he panted for breath. Jisung gave him a boost.
“Mine,” Jisung admitted. “But don’t talk back to me when I’m helping you.”
Minho finally plopped down on the seat. “I’m older than you,” he said. “You have to call me Hyung.”
“You’re like five, Minho,” Jisung pointed out. “That makes me fourteen years older so I’m definitely your hyung now.”
“No,” Minho drawled. “I have been alive for a hundred and…and... For a lot of years more than you so I’m Hyung.”
“But now you’re five.” Jisung was going to win this argument.
“I look five,” Minho said crossly. “But I am older. You’re not an adult.”
“I’m nearly an adult,” Jisung scoffed. “I’m more of an adult than you.”
“I see it’s going well, Sungie,” Chan mocked him, appearing in the doorway.
“It’s going amazingly, Hyung,” Jisung said with a sarcastic smile. “I love causing major body alterations to my loved ones. Really spices up my week.”
“At least he’s not a chicken,” Chan offered. He then came into the room and scooped Minho up to rest him on his hip. “Someone told me you wanted toast.”
“I do want toast,” Minho said. “Put me down.”
“No.” Chan booped him on the nose. “You’re cute,” Chan grinned and started getting out the pan and ingredients with one hand.
“I’m a hundred years old!” Minho roared, arching his back to get free.
“One hundred and eighty seven,” Chan corrected him, not bothered in the slightest by the writhing child in his arms. He lined up the ingredients by the chopping board. “But I’m not letting you wander about while I’ve got knives and fire and that stool is too high for you. Either you go sit at the dinner table or you go with Sungie. What will it be?”
Minho made one last attempt to get free but Chan was a vampire and knew how to hold a child down. Minho gave up, panting. “I want Jisungie,” he admitted grumpily.
“Good choice,” Chan said, handing him over. Jisung didn’t really know how to hold a child properly but he was sure this wasn’t it. Minho was heavy and was sliding from his grasp. “Put him on your hip, Sung,” Chan instructed.
Where? Jisung had hips but they certainly didn’t stick out enough for somebody to sit on. He hoisted Minho up a bit further and leant back so at least some of Minho’s weight wasn’t on his arms. Minho locked his arms around Jisung’s neck to stop himself falling.
“You’re rubbish at this,” he told Jisung.
“I’m trying,” Jisung wailed. “I didn’t have little cousins, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Clearly.” Minho let go and slid to the ground. “Crouch down. I want to go on your shoulders.”
“Not in the kitchen!” Chan called, kicking Minho lightly out of the kitchen with a foot under his butt. “Why did you guys have to do this when Woojin was gone?”
“It was Seungminnie’s idea,” Jisung said, lifting Minho up onto the table so the boy could climb onto his shoulders like he wanted to. Minho clung to his hair and giggled to himself as he directed Jisung with little tugs. Chan glanced up at them as Jisung game back to stand at his side and smiled softly.
“Are you going to make sure Jisungie and Seungminnie behave for me then, Minnie?”
“Yes!” Minho crowed, tugging on Jisung’s hair.
Jisung groaned. Tiny Minho was proving in a short period of time to be significantly more taxing than adult Minho and he was going to need back up to get through this.
“Min, ow,” he said. Risking taking one hand off of Minho’s ankles to untangle his hands from his hair. Minho only put his hands over (in) Jisung’s mouth to muffle his complaints.
“Fixed him, Channie-hyung!” Minho said proudly. “Look, Channie-hyung. Fixed him!”
“An excellent job, Minho-sshi,” Chan nodded seriously. “What do you want on your toast?”
“Cheeeese!,” Minho said. “And ham and egg. But not your egg. Seungminnie’s egg.”
“Is my egg not good enough?” Chan grumbled, heating up the pan.
“No!” Minho giggled and then tugged on Jisung’s hair again. “Turn around Sungie, we gotta find Seungminnie!”
“Watch your head on the doorframes, Min!” Chan called after them.