Chapter Text
The auction hall was dark, the occupants shrouded in shadows. A harsh, white light illuminated the stage where humans were brought forth, displayed, and sold to the highest bidder. Those in the audience closest to the stage could be made out in the dim light reflecting from the stage, but the private booths that lined the back wall were in almost complete darkness. Only the most wealthy, most prestigious, or most feared vampires had a spot in the booths.
Vampires came and went as they came to see what was up for auction, made their choices, and went on their way. Despite the comings and goings, the hall was nearly silent, save for the auctioneer’s voice and the calls for bids. And the occasional whimper of the human for sale, but by this time of the night, the freshly caught had already been sold, and only those groomed for the block were left.
That was one of the reasons Yoongi arrived late. He could not stand the wails and cries of the fresh-caught humans who had just realized their fate. Without a so-called sponsor to groom them for a specialized servant role, those sold earlier in the night would likely be dead by dawn, drained of blood and floating in the river, discarded.
Of course, Yoongi was late for other reasons, as well. One being, he had not been altogether sure he was going to come. Hoseok tipped him off, said there would be something he would find interesting on the block tonight, but even so, Yoongi disliked the auctions in general. He preferred his blood brought to him in the comfort of his own home.
Another reason being, it was snowing outside, and he had not fed since last month. He felt the cold terribly, and silently cursed Hoseok for tempting him out of his warm house, with fireplaces roaring in every room, and soft rugs and thick tapestries covering the floors and walls to insulate against the cold. Even now, six hours into the night, he could feel the stiffness in his joints.
He really ought to feed soon.
Yoongi strode towards the auction hall, keeping his thick black velvet cloak tight around him to insulate what little heat remained in his veins, and ignored the servant holding the door to the back of his reserved booth open. His two slaves copied his dismissive attitude, far too used to the way others shivered and averted their eyes from their master. He took a seat on the comfortably padded chaise lounge in the far back of the booth, and watched his slaves take their positions beyond the privacy curtain at the front of the booth. A ripple went through the crowd in the hall, as those in the back realized the booth had been taken, and by whom.
There was a table just in front of the privacy curtain, and Namjoon sat with his back facing the auction stage to see Yoongi, but forward enough that he could make eye contact with Jin, who sat facing the stage and away from Yoongi. The trio worked like a well-oiled machine, and Yoongi spared a moment’s gratitude that he did not have to think how to arrange them. He turned his attention to the stage, and waited.
He did not have to wait long.
He instantly knew that this was the human Hoseok had wanted him to see. The boy was brought forward, a flimsy, too-short robe doing nothing to hide his strong, muscular physique. Despite his muscles, the boy was obviously young, skin smooth and unblemished, except for a tiny scar on one cheekbone that Yoongi’s vampiric eyesight registered. He had large, dark eyes spread wide in fear, but he did not fight the handlers or make a scene. He had been groomed properly, and obediently dropped the sad excuse for a garment when commanded to. Yoongi picked up bits and pieces from the auctioneer’s descriptions - “groomed since thirteen,” “sweet-natured,” “spirited when handled roughly,” “virginal” - but he was too focused on the boy’s features. His nose was just slightly too big, but it seemed to suit his face. His open lips were a pale pink, and the tips of his upper two front teeth peeked from under his top lip. He reminded Yoongi of a rabbit.
Yes, that was definitely the expression of prey.
Yoongi dipped his chin infinitesimally; Namjoon had been watching and waiting for his signal. After glancing at his account book (unnecessary and they all knew it; Namjoon’s memory was near-perfect, even after all these years), the slave turned his eyes to Jin and mouthed a sum. Jin then turned to face the stage and called out a bid in a clear, yet languid tone. As all eyes turned towards them, everyone intrigued when a booth player made a bid, Jin settled into his chair with ease, crossing one leg over another. The man knew he was gorgeous, and took the attention as his due.
It was one of the reasons Yoongi had bound Jin in the first place. With such a beautiful man as his public face, no one paid attention to Yoongi, and everyone left him alone. Well, except for his friends, but he could not get rid of them.
The boy’s eyes flitted this way and that as the bids went higher and higher, trying to make out who was speaking, even though the lights on the stage would be blinding. His nervousness was evident in every line of his youthful body. The bidders started dropping out, and Yoongi bided his time. Let the chaff separate themselves from the wheat. Only when the bids slowed down and there was a significant pause after the latest did his chin dip again.
Namjoon referenced his book, and Jin called another bid. A few more bids were called, and Yoongi grew tired of waiting. He jerked his chin slightly to the side, and Namjoon’s eyebrows lifted briefly, his silent exclamation of surprise. Yoongi was normally a patient, enduring businessman, but his joints were stiff, he was cold, and he wanted to go home. And he wanted that boy.
Namjoon turned to Jin and mouthed a new sum. Jin’s surprise was expressed in a tiny jerk of his head, but he obediently faced forward and called out a sum that could have paid for five humans. The hall grew so quiet, Yoongi could actually pick up the sound of the boy’s frightened pants. No one made a sound, and after a few long seconds, the auctioneer cried, “Sold!”
A servant came to their booth and Namjoon went with him to settle Yoongi’s account. Jin enjoyed the attention from the crowd for a few more minutes before drawing the privacy curtain closed and coming inside the booth with Yoongi.
“That was surprising,” Jin commented in a soft voice, wary of listening ears beyond the curtain.
“I am cold,” Yoongi said by way of explanation.
Jin’s eyebrow lifted, and he quipped, “Well how fortunate for you, then, that you just purchased a bed slave.”
“Spare me, hyung,” Yoongi drawled.
Just then, a discreet knock came at the door, and Jin said, “Enter.”
The door to the booth opened to reveal another servant bowing low, beckoning them to follow. Yoongi left the comfort of the plush chaise reluctantly and exited the booth, followed by Jin. The servant led them to a private parlor, and it was there that Yoongi found the boy, sitting on his knees with his head bowed forward meekly, the little robe wrapped tightly around him in a mockery of modesty. The boy trembled visibly, and Yoongi could hear his heart pounding. Yoongi took a seat in a blue damask wingback chair, but not before deftly plucking his cloak from his shoulders and twirling it so it landed on the boy. The boy jumped, and his wide eyes darted up in surprise and confusion. He met Yoongi’s eyes for a brief, intense second, before lowering his head again. He did nothing to settle the cloak more evenly on his form, remaining frozen in his submissive posture.
“Cover up,” Yoongi ordered. He settled back in his armchair and tried to sit like he was not chilled and leaking what little body heat he had left into the room. He regarded the boy with a critical eye while the human fumbled to draw the cloak about him. The boy’s skin really was quite smooth; Yoongi couldn’t detect any evidence of bites or scars from his training. His skin was pale, and there were not any drastic shadows under his eyes, which told Yoongi the boy had been kept on a nocturnal schedule. His hair was a glossy black, neatly trimmed, and someone had taken the trouble to pierce his earlobes. Yoongi agreed that the boy was pretty enough to dress up with jewelry.
“What is your name?” Yoongi asked.
The boy did not look up. “Whatever Master wishes it to be.”
Yoongi clicked his tongue. He should have expected that. “What was your name before I bought you?”
The boy trembled slightly at Yoongi’s displeased tone, but kept his head bowed as he answered softly, “Jungkook.”
“And do you prefer this name, ‘Jungkook’?”
The boy’s head nodded slightly, eyes fixed on the floor. “Yes, Master.”
“Jungkook,” Yoongi began, “you will look at me when I speak to you.” The boy - Jungkook - had been thoroughly trained, but Yoongi had his own preferences. Jungkook obediently lifted his gaze - to Yoongi’s chest.
“Meet my eyes.”
Slowly, Jungkook’s eyes traveled up Yoongi’s body to peek at the vampire from under his lashes. The human’s lids fluttered nervously, but he held Yoongi’s gaze, and the vampire was satisfied.
“Good boy.”
At that, the faintest color rose in Jungkook’s cheeks. A blush; how charming. Had the boy been praise-trained, or was it natural? Something to investigate later.
“Do you know who I am?” Yoongi asked.
Jungkook answered nervously, “No, Master.”
Sheltered, then. His sponsors had chosen to keep him innocent, rather than teach him about vampire society or history. Yoongi could have guessed as much, based on the “virginal” description from the block. Looking at the boy’s face, Yoongi agreed that the innocence was appealing.
“My name,” Yoongi said, “is Min Yoongi.”
Yoongi watched Jungkook digest this information, commit it to memory, but he otherwise did not react. Good. He was not aware of Yoongi’s reputation, then. Yoongi did not need the boy any more frightened than he already was.
Yoongi finally looked away from the boy towards Jin and Namjoon, who were leaning against the wall, expressions schooled to neutrality. He nodded to them, and the two of them lifted away from the wall and approached. Jin went to Yoongi, drawing a thin knife from his sleeve, while Namjoon stood behind Jungkook. Jungkook’s eyes darted around nervously, unsure of what was happening, so as a servant brought a crystal goblet to Jin, Yoongi asked, “Jungkook, do you know what a blood binding is?”
A blood binding formed a link between a vampire and a human. The human would be stronger, impervious to illness, and aging halted. In return, the vampire gained a loyal, trustworthy servant dedicated to the well-being of their vampire master. The pact between vampire and slave was more intimate than any hired servant could imagine, and was usually a great honor for the human.
Jungkook’s eyes widened even more, and he stuttered, “Y-yes, Master.”
Jin deftly folded back Yoongi’s jacket sleeve, then undid the buttons on his shirt and did the same. “Have you ever seen it done?”
“No, Master.”
Jin sharply drew the knife along Yoongi’s wrist, and captured the vampire’s sluggish blood in the goblet. Jungkook gasped quietly, but reined in his surprise quickly. Jin watched how slowly the thickened blood dripped from Yoongi’s wrist, and gave the vampire a frustrated glance.
Yoongi returned with a quelling look. He would feed when he felt like it. Jin need not mother him.
Finally, the goblet had enough blood in it, and Jin placed the crystal goblet on a little side table and quickly wrapped Yoongi’s wrist in bandages supplied by another servant. Yoongi eyed the glass, a bare finger’s width of viscous, black blood, and grimaced internally.
“Wine,” he said, and a servant lingering by the door jumped to fetch some. By the time Jin was done wrapping his wrist and resettling his clothes, the servant had returned, bowing as they presented the bottle. It was a very good year, an excellent label - the servant had clearly gotten the best available. He would have to try some before they left.
Jin took the bottle and whistled lowly, impressed. The servant was ready with a corkscrew, but Jin simply bit the cork and yanked it out with his teeth, sending the cork sailing into the servant’s hand with a sharp puff of air.
The epitome of sophistication, his hyung.
Jin took a swig directly from the bottle and made appreciative noises, though noticeably more subdued than his usual food-induced vocalizations. Yoongi supposed he should be grateful for that. The man could make a doxy blush with his moans over edibles. Next, Jin poured a liberal amount of wine into the goblet containing Yoongi’s blood, and used the knife to stir the solution together. Once done, he licked the blade clean and slid it back up his sleeve.
Yoongi glanced over at Jungkook, who was watching Jin’s performance with wide eyes. He looked even more frightened than before.
“Jungkook,” Yoongi said sharply, and the boy’s eyes snapped to look at him. Yoongi kept his voice even and calm, though he could not muster any comforting warmth in his tone. “You will not like this. It will taste foul, and it will hurt. Jin and Namjoon will help you drink it all. Be good for me, yes?”
The boy trembled as Namjoon knelt behind him, one strong arm wrapping around his torso to pin his arms, the other gently grasping his jaw, but Jungkook still obediently responded, “Y-yes, Master.”
“Open your mouth,” Jin said to the boy, the goblet of mixed blood and wine in one hand, and Jungkook’s mouth popped open. Yoongi watched as Namjoon tightened his grip on Jungkook’s jaw to hold it open, and Jin stuck a thumb in the boy’s mouth to keep his lips spread.
“Take a deep breath,” Jin commanded softly, and as soon as the boy had, Jin quickly poured the mixture into Jungkook’s mouth. Immediately, the boy gagged, but Jin kept pouring until the goblet was empty. Jin carelessly tossed the glass to one side and yanked his thumb free, using one hand to push Jungkook’s lips together and the other to pinch the boy’s nose shut. Jungkook’s eyes watered, and despite his best efforts, he tried to twist out of their grip, but he was too weak compared to the slaves, who were strengthened by Yoongi’s blood. Namjoon pushed the boy’s jaw up and stroked his throat, quietly murmuring into his ear: “swallow, there’s a good boy, go on, good, good...”
Once the two slaves were certain Jungkook had swallowed everything, Jin released Jungkook so he could breathe, and the boy began to shake violently in Namjoon’s arms. He gasped, droplets of blood and wine dripping from his lips and the corners of his mouth, and his eyes squeezed shut in a pained expression. Yoongi watched from his seat as the vampiric blood took hold, flushing the boy’s skin red, then white, smoothing away the tiny scar on Jungkook’s cheekbone, giving him a healthy glow to his cheeks, even while his body quaked and seized harshly. Finally, after seconds or minutes, the boy’s body sagged, and Namjoon cradled him supportively. Jungkook’s head dropped tiredly, and Jin stroked the boy’s hair from his sweat-damp forehead. Both men murmured praises to Jungkook, who had not so much as whimpered throughout the experience in his effort to be good.
Yoongi spoke up, his voice level and controlled, “You did very well, Jungkook.”
The boy shuddered, but was still too weak to lift his head or respond.
“Jin,” Yoongi said, “the spare?”
“Yes,” Jin said, and reached around Jungkook to dig in one of the large, deep pockets sewn into Namjoon’s coat, fishing out a black silk brocade collar with a clasp closure. The fabric had a subtle black-on-black design, and was about two inches wide. Jin gently wrapped the collar around Jungkook’s neck and fastened the clasp. No one would lay a hand on him now without Yoongi’s permission.
The vampire rose from his seat, ready to go home and get warm now that the formalities had been taken care of. Jin collected the wine bottle (“We’ll be taking this,” he said as he plucked it out of a servant’s hand) and Namjoon carefully scooped up the boy in a bridal carry, Jungkook still too dazed to resist. The cloak gaped on the boy’s limp form, exposing the pale skin of his outward leg from foot to hip, and Yoongi frowned. Jin was still preoccupied with the wine, so Yoongi gathered the draping velvet himself and tucked it around Jungkook’s form, even drawing up the cloak hood, not satisfied until all of the boy’s skin was covered.
He more than anyone else in the room knew how cold it was, and how much colder it would be when they went outside.
They left the auction hall, Jin walking first to draw people’s attention away from Yoongi, who was a bit more noticeable now that he couldn’t preserve his anonymity with his cloak. Namjoon followed behind carrying Jungkook. That was how they functioned in vampire society. Jin, the butterfly decoy so that Yoongi could move freely in the shadows. Namjoon, who carried the knowledge of all of Yoongi’s assets, with his sharp mind and calculating eye, portrayed as the dumb muscle, all of his knowledge hidden in an unlikely form. They made an efficient team.
Yoongi wondered if and how Jungkook would fit into their team. It had been the three of them for so long; it was hard to comprehend another player. He would have to talk it over with Namjoon. Jungkook’s innocent attractiveness could be used as another decoy, like Jin, but then he was also muscular, so he could potentially play the dumb slave as well. Yoongi would have to observe the boy to ascertain his intelligence and wit.
Well, whatever the boy’s role in public would be, his private function was far more important to Yoongi. The vampire yearned for the end of the night, when he could retire to his bed, and Jungkook.
Namjoon easily climbed into the carriage and settled Jungkook in his lap. Yoongi boarded next, sitting across from the pair. When Jin made as if to sit next to Namjoon, Yoongi gave a disgruntled sound, too soft to be heard outside the carriage. Jin rolled his eyes but smirked good-naturedly, and sat next to Yoongi instead. As soon as the carriage door closed, Jin wrapped his arms around Yoongi and the vampire sank into the man’s body heat gratefully.
“I cannot believe you bought and bound someone,” Jin said quietly, aware of Jungkook’s semi-conscious state. “I thought you were too set in your ways to let someone new in.”
“Do not overthink it,” Yoongi grumbled just as quietly. “He is young, and his athletic build speaks of a high metabolism, so he is bound to be warm.”
“He is,” Namjoon murmured, and Yoongi felt a pang of jealousy. He reminded himself that Jungkook would be all his soon, so he need not yank the boy from Namjoon’s hold and pull Jungkook into his own lap.
“Does he smell nice?” Jin asked curiously.
“Of course,” Yoongi said, far more casually than he felt. “I would not have gone through with the binding if he did not.” It was an understatement. The boy smelled delicious , and the scent aggravated Yoongi’s thirst immensely. He swallowed dryly, and Jin caught the motion.
“I thought I told you not to wait so long in between feedings,” Jin scolded. “Your blood was thick as mud!”
“Calm yourself,” Yoongi grumbled. “I will feed before I go to bed. Namjoon?”
Namjoon nodded, and Yoongi turned his head in Jin’s direction, even if they were too close to meet eye-to-eye.
“You can settle the boy in, then,” Yoongi said, and Jin nodded.
“Do you think he has eaten tonight?” Jin asked.
“Most likely,” Namjoon chimed in. “They would not have wanted his stomach to growl on the block, or to faint before he could be bought.” Namjoon was already looking at the boy with affection, likely excited to have someone new to care for, and Yoongi held back from warning him not to get attached. They still did not know if Jungkook would be a good fit. Bindings could be undone.
“I will fix him something small, then,” Jin said. The idea that Jungkook might not want to eat had clearly not occurred to Jin, but Yoongi let it pass. It was Jin’s way of showing he cared; the man prized food so much (understandable, given his impoverished past), providing others with sustenance was the ultimate form of care. Namjoon was not the only one getting attached too quickly.
Jungkook began to rouse as they approached Yoongi’s residence, a manor house on the outskirts of the city. It supported a full staff of servants, even kitchen staff, despite Yoongi not needing food service. When he had purchased it, he had made the decision to keep all the servants on - good jobs were hard to find, and the decision inspired loyalty in the staff. As such, when they entered the gate and the carriage pulled up in front of the house, footmen were ready and waiting to help them out of the carriage and into the house, despite the late hour and the freezing cold.
Jungkook fidgeted on Namjoon’s lap, looking both embarrassed to be held so preciously, and anxious to be on his own feet, either reluctant to burden Namjoon any longer or wary of appearing weak or lazy to Yoongi.
“Let Namjoon carry you,” Yoongi said. The boy did not have any shoes; of course Yoongi wasn’t going to allow Jungkook to walk in the snow barefoot. It would defeat the whole purpose if his bed mate was cold.
Jungkook settled down obediently, though his expression still revealed his reluctance. The shift in the group dynamic was at once subtle and dramatic as they exited the carriage. Yoongi was in front now, no longer hiding behind Jin now that he was in his own territory. Jin followed him, already unraveling the knot in his cravat and drinking from the wine bottle, relaxing into his home persona. Namjoon followed, still carrying Jungkook, but his eyes sharpened, taking in the servants’ appearances, the snow buildup on the roof, the lighting in the entranceway - nothing escaped his scrutinizing eye. To the public, Namjoon might appear to be a simpleton, but in private, Namjoon managed Yoongi’s estate, the staff, Yoongi’s finances and assets - everything was entrusted to Namjoon except for their wardrobe, which was Jin’s domain.
Once they were all inside the entryway, Namjoon gently set Jungkook on his feet and went ahead into the parlor. Jungkook’s eyes darted around, taking in the grandness of the manor house, the servants bustling about, Namjoon’s departure, all with nervous attention. Jin handed the bottle of wine off to a servant as well as his hat and gloves, and went over to the boy, his cravat loose around his neck and unfastening his wrist cuffs as he walked.
“Go with Jin,” Yoongi commanded Jungkook, then said to Jin, “Make sure he is ready by the time I’m done.”
Jungkook looked confused and a little afraid, but obediently trailed after Jin, who was making his way to the kitchens. Yoongi turned on his heel and entered the parlor to find Namjoon, coat off and draped over a chair, leaving nothing but a waistcoat on his upper body, the muscles of his chest and arms bare.
“He really made you go shirtless,” Yoongi tutted, and Namjoon chuckled good-naturedly.
“At least this way you have easy access,” Namjoon said, sitting himself down on a sofa near the fire. Yoongi made a noise of agreement, too busy climbing onto his slave’s lap to answer. Now that he was finally attending to his body’s needs, his movements lost their practiced ease, moving quickly with sharp movements as he settled himself on Namjoon, one hand on the man’s bare bicep, and the other tilting Namjoon’s head to the side. He finally allowed himself to feel how ravenous he was, and wasted no time in sinking his teeth into the man’s neck.
As dawn approached, Yoongi made his way up to his bedroom. He entered the dressing room first, where Jin carefully removed his clothing and packed it away neatly, his attention to detail far better than Yoongi’s. Jin quickly dressed him in silk pajamas and a padded smoking jacket, tutting softly at the still-frigid cold of Yoongi’s skin. Yoongi ignored him, and Jin left to tend to Namjoon.
He hadn’t drunk very much from Namjoon, just enough to quell the hunger pangs, which was why he was still cold; he was grateful when he opened his bedroom door and heat embraced him. Absently, he locked the door and turned to face the room.
There were many grand, spacious rooms in the manor, but Yoongi had chosen this room as his bedroom because of its smaller size - it was easier to keep small spaces warm than larger ones. A fire roared in the fireplace, suffusing the room in golden, flickering light. Thick rugs layered three deep on the floor cushioned his slippered feet, and plush velvet curtains guarded the windows from any drafts. There were no paintings on display, only tapestries, decorative pieces that could provide extra insulation.
Yoongi’s favorite thing in his bedroom, possibly his favorite thing in the manor, was his bed, a massive, four-poster with heavy silk brocade curtains, stacked high with embroidered blankets over a padded duvet and positioned close to the fireplace. Gazing at it, he discerned a lump under the bedding and a dark head nestled in the abundant pillows. He nodded in satisfaction, but then frowned when he saw a neat stack of folded silk by the side of the bed farthest from the fire.
Smoothing out his expression, Yoongi silently approached the bed. When he stopped alongside, the head of dark hair twitched, and wide, wakeful eyes flickered up at him. Wordlessly, Yoongi grasped the duvet and slowly pulled it back, baring the boy in his bed - quite literally.
Jungkook lay naked in Yoongi’s bed, hands by his sides and completely still, just watching the vampire with restrained fear. As Yoongi had seen before at a greater distance, Jungkook had a young, muscular body, smooth and hairless, though whether natural or by design he could not tell. The light of the fire danced across the dips of the boy’s chest and abdomen, and the folds of his retracted phallus. Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the only movement as he laid himself out for his Master’s perusal.
“Is this what they trained you?” Yoongi asked softly, voice betraying nothing.
Jungkook’s eyes fluttered, and he swallowed hard. “Y-yes, Master,” he whispered, chest dipping with shallow breaths. Clearly, the boy had been taught to submit and not struggle as he served his intended purpose; though visibly afraid, he did not try to cover himself or move away.
Yoongi looked the boy up and down again, admiring the attractive form before him. The light revealed something shiny on the boy’s inner thighs. Very well trained. Yoongi didn’t take his eyes off of Jungkook’s hips as he said, “All ready for me.”
Jungkook didn’t respond, but his expectations were clear in his silence. It was certainly tempting, having a willing, submissive body offered up for his pleasure. Yoongi slowly drew his eyes back up to the boy’s face, his voice a low rumble. “You are beautiful, Jungkook.”
“Thank you, Master,” Jungkook said, sounding like the air was squeezed through his tense throat. His pulse jumped in his neck, visible to the vampire’s sharp eyes.
“I purchased you to warm my bed,” Yoongi stated, and the boy blushed and nodded, clearly expecting instructions on how best to please Yoongi. “And that is all you will do.”
The boy’s expression briefly clouded in confusion before he could regain control of his features. “Whatever Master wishes, I will do,” he said, still not understanding.
Yoongi nodded, and pulled the covers back over the boy before walking around to the side closest to the fireplace. He shuffled off his slippers and dropped his smoking jacket, Jungkook watching his every move. The vampire folded back the covers on his side, slid underneath them, and replaced them over himself. Turning on his side, facing away from Jungkook, he ordered, “Embrace me.”
The boy’s confusion was palpable.
Yoongi clucked his tongue. Turning back over enough to grab Jungkook’s hand, he pulled until the boy’s arm wrapped around Yoongi’s waist and Jungkook’s front was at the vampire’s back. The boy’s body heat was delicious; he heard Jungkook give a soft yelp as Yoongi’s cold skin brushed him, tangible even through their night clothes.
Nuzzling his head into his pillow, Yoongi sighed, “Now go to sleep.”
The boy was tense behind him, little shallow breaths just tickling the vampire’s nape. Yoongi purposefully relaxed his muscles, nestling himself into the curve of the human’s body and humming quietly as his body was warmed. After a few moments, Jungkook’s body went pliant, accepting the press of the vampire against him, though whether from a desire to please or actual weariness, Yoongi could not tell. Still, now that he was more comfortable, the vampire drifted off to sleep, cradled and warm.
Jungkook didn’t know what he had done wrong.
He laid awake for hours, frantically analyzing his every action, his every word. He knew what to do, what to say - his trainers had always praised his quick learning and consistency, calling him their golden boy, the best of the crop, the one they were going to get rich on. He hadn’t been beaten in two years, longer than anyone else in training. He’d been so sure that he’d done everything right: respectful address, submissive posture, silent obedience; he’d made himself ready, carefully washing his neck and opening himself; removed the obstacle of his clothing, waited patiently in his Master’s bed.
But his Master hadn’t drunk from him, or used his body.
He’d seen the admiring looks his Master gave him, had seen how the vampire watched his throat, his pulse. He knew his body was pleasing, had been told endless times. His blood samples had been praised, not a sign of sickness or poor diet. He was as perfect as he could get, so why hadn’t his Master touched him?
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The vampire had grasped his wrist with one icy cold hand, pulled Jungkook’s body close, and demanded an embrace. Thinking about his Master’s frigid skin, and his desire for warmth, Jungkook had a thought: maybe his Master was too weak to feed or actively take pleasure for himself? Jungkook had never felt a vampire so cold; even now, in a toasty room and under heaps of blankets, the vampire’s body was like a block of ice wrapped in silk. He had been taught that a vampire’s skin cooled when they needed to feed, that the longer between feedings, the weaker the vampire would be.
Maybe he, Jungkook, should more actively offer himself? His sole purpose was to provide for his Master, and if his Master was incapable of taking what he needed, then Jungkook had to give it. Resolved, the boy fell into an uneasy sleep.