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Summary
"Okay," Donghyuck agrees, surprising Mark and himself. He doesn't need Mark's money. But he can sense that Mark doesn't think that he does. He can sense that Mark's want to take care of him lies within something else. Something that he might not figure out tonight, but if he sticks around long enough Mark might tell him eventually.
Mark glances over at him briefly. "Okay?"
"Okay," Donghyuck repeats, confirming his answer. "Spoil me. I'll let you."
Donghyuck met this older guy a week ago—Mark Lee—who had made his interest in spoiling Donghyuck adamant. Tonight, Donghyuck finally gives into Mark's pleads.
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Minjeong inhales and lets it burn her lungs, eyes fluttering shut through the drag. When her eyes open, through the waft of smoke released from her lips, she sees Jimin staring at her with unrevealing eyes.
"Congratulations," Jimin eventually tells her. "You were beautiful on that stage," she sighs, pushing herself away from the wall. In her full stature, she towers over Minjeong just slightly, enough that Minjeong has to tilt her head up to look at her.
"You always are."
Outwardly, Minjeong and Jimin hate each other. Two different sides of the same coin in ballet. But how is it actually like behind the scenes?
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And as he stares at the vampire beneath him, Donghyuck can’t help but think that: Mark may be a natural predator, but like this, he is prey. Thighs parted, soft underbelly, panting as if he'd just been chased. His pale skin bruising with the strength of Donghyuck's grip on his hips. His body taking Donghyuck’s cock so well. There is always something with bigger teeth.
They shouldn’t work—a slave to the sunlight and a slave to the moon. Their kinds having opposed each other for centuries. But nothing feels more natural to Donghyuck than the feeling of Mark with him. Beneath him. Around him.
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"You're small, Minjeong-ah," Jimin says, her voice dropping lower. "You need unnie's help for things like this, right?" Jimin's hand comes up to pat Minjeong's head like she's something precious, then drags the same hand down slowly to rest on Minjeong's cheek, her thumb tracing a gentle arc across her skin. "You could've hurt yourself being bratty like that."
Heat floods Minjeong's face. Her pride stings, but what overwhelms her more is how foolish she feels about her defiance. "I'm sorry, unnie," she whispers, and she means it. Her apology tastes like surrender.
"Good girl." Jimin's approval is immediate. "You didn't even need me to ask. Unnie's trained you so well."
Jimin’s always looked after Minjeong more than she did anyone else. Minjeong just assumed it was Jimin being a good unnie. She never thought it could be anything else.

